There were three of us at Cafe Lalo last night. Beet salad, mixed berries with zabaglione cream, and steamed mushroom-filled eggs were the dishes on the table. We were two original tea timers. One of us brought a friend. The topics ranged from Bikram yoga to crazy old apartments in NYC to the dramatic, life-altering changes we have made recently in our lives.
As young women in this highly mobile city, we all have a lot to juggle in the physical world, but our mental upkeep is intensely - almost necessarily - sharable. It is a relief to talk and a different sort of the same thing to listen. We love to be amazed and amused by each other. These are the moments that not only give us that opportunity, but also happen to be the “right” time to let each other know how we feel and what we think.
Talking and eating, we relished in the concept that we all lived in the same neighborhood. It crossed my mind – as I am constantly examing my adultness against that of my somewhat more mature girlfriends – that though we are mostly (as in most of us are) independent, the terms in which we were thinking could conceivably turn into us having playdates together in the near future. What a thought: to not have to give up play time, snack time, or even nap time as a twenty-one year old college graduate.
