Well, Zikki, I hope you're ok

The most amazing things happen sometimes...



This past Sunday I go to Rakka Café on St. Marks after a thorough Pilates class for some babaganouj. Something told me to look to my right as I walked out. I did, and there sat my friend Z, who I haven't seen since 2001. She's back in NY, and that's wonderful!



It was good I was there, too, since she was feeling faint. Long story short: we end up going to the hospital for what I hope wasn't more than dehydration. I didn't mind one bit, though. I've got no problem being there for someone kind, generous and sweet. This was an incredible contrast to the Baby Shower crapfest last Friday night: two people (soon to be three) who are full of themselves as opposed to one person that I can talk to and laugh with. We pick up where we leave off, and

that's such a freedom. I have it with Andrew too.



Their generosity is not forgotten by me: Andy for looking over my hellish knee surgery in '97 and Z for sending me in a taxi, and bringing my fave moisturiser from London long ago when I worked in that viper's nest school.



I can't say I question the messenger anymore, it's the message I listen to. And that's a very specific thing if you give it your full attention. All these little events lead up to the framework of your days. This year, so far, has been filled with contrasts for me: who to listen to/ignore; what to do/what to scrap; inspiration vs. negativity. RD, Johnny, KDM, Jeremy, Z, V., even Nancy have

shown me the way. Don't block the blessings, like Patti says.



But also share the love. If you've got it, send it out. Just remember to pick the right people.