Just had a tasty and cheap lunch with an old friend from college. So much to catch up on.
She works in publishing. The best way to describe it is that she's an "inspirational ghostwriter." And the best part is, she loves it. Oh and she's an ordained minister and works with the homeless, but who isn't/doesn't?
We ate beans, kababs and things that have the prefix "baba" as we gossiped about mutual friends like the English guy who lives in Park Slope and is still unemployed/able to pay his rent after more than a decade.
The guy whose photo spread is currently featured in New York magazine.
The woman who famously dated the cashew vendor at Rockefeller Center.
The guy who is a New Age composer who also gives "satsang energy transfers" for money from his base in New Zealand.
The guy who changed his name to something very silly, the guy who teaches body performance art movement at a college in England, the guy who is having his gay marriage in Montreal and the guy who legally separated from his parents after his recovered memories of sexual abuse. Oh, and all the guys in this paragraph? They are the same guy.
Oh and we talked about so many other friends, including all the people we know from college who had identical recovered memories of sexual abuse, who, incidentally, all went to the same therapist in Bennington.
But mainly we talked about us. For we are oh-so fascinating.
