It's been a day of old friends. Had a high school friend send a long lost picture of us from, oh, about 1983, for starters. Like 10 of us sitting on Santa's lap, all awkward and braces-covered and chatty and decked in our Forenza best. Then tonight, I had dinner with my college roommates, which was just stellar. It's always so great to go home, to surround yourself with those who know you best.
The five of us at dinner are, in so many ways, at the same point in our lives, yet we're so different in others. There's L, who lives in Annapolis, who has three children and is a nurse. She sees more death and pain on any given day then most of us do in a lifetime, and yet she's still maintains her perspective somehow. There's D, who just finished the NYC marathon this year, home with her two kids (both as hilariously funny as she is) and looking for some balance. M, the schoolteacher, always the optimist, and N, who tutors and runs a camp for autistic children, pregnant with her second, due three weeks before me. And me, with the, ahem, more vapid job in the bunch.
Between the picture this morning, and the stories this evening, I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard, or felt so, hmm, I guess "comforted" would be the best word I can think of.
I dropped D off in front of a Starbucks at end of dinner; she just wanted a gingerbread latte, a little time on her own to walk around, some peace and quiet. I couldn't wait to get home to see my boy, since as of late, our time together has been in precious short supply. Grass is always greener.
No real point to this post, I guess, except to say that it's good to have friends you love, friends you've known forever. And a boy who can't wait to see his momma is an absolute bonus.