WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY IN ENEMY TERRITORY . . .

(Pssst. Pitchers and catchers report in fifteen days!)

***

Sometimes the greatest "hardship" (yeah, I know, my life is so tough that I would actually term this a "hardship") about going away for a bit, either on business or pleasure, is the shower situation at the place to which I am going. My shower at home has incredible water pressure, and the water quality is such that soap suds are quickly rinsed away and I'm left with that nice, squeaky feeling. (What is that? Hard or soft water? I always get confused.) Wherever I go, usually, the shower just is not the same, so I am either in the shower for hours trying to get all the suds out of my hair and off my body, or I'm walking around the whole day feeling like I have a layer of soap scum coating my entire self.

Not at C.o.S.'s place. Her house is like my house. Her shower is like my shower. So enjoyable.

***

I dropped C.o.S. off near her workplace, then headed back to my old 'hood to loiter at Starbucks until it was time to meet up with Ems.

The 'hood is the same. My wine shop, my takeout Thai place, my bookstore, my CVS, my stationery store, my gourmet deli, my bagel shoppe (yes, with the extra 'pe' at the end), and lo, my old Starbucks. Starbucks outlets look and are the same wherever you go -- it's really an amazing feat, if you think about it.

I grabbed the cushy seat in the corner, the perfect vantage point from which to look out and see the entire interior of the store in one glance. And next to me .... ahhhh, it took me back. A young woman dressed in a suit, pored distractedly over her Constitutional Law textbook. Girl, I feel that.

***

I almost ran over a pedestrian on Longwood Ave this morning.

***

After seven long years ... Ems!

Don't you feel like there are people in your life whom you don't have to see all the time ... but then when you do finally see them, you find out they are living the exact life you always imagined they would? Thus were Ems and her husband and their two kids.

She looked the same, except for two very stylish streaks of white framing her face. Her mannerisms, her sayings, the lilt in her voice, the direct way she looks at you -- all the same. Her house was exactly as I thought it would be: small, cozy, homey, comfortable, green (the kitchen, anyway) and filled with healthy foods and a supply of red wine. Her kids were exactly as I thought they'd be: precocious, smart, witty, wriggly, laugh-inducing, round-facedly adorable. And good ol' Dr.Phil ... I have such vague memories of him, but I'm so glad to have made these new ones.

It was strange, though. I often experience deja vu and I often daydream about days, events, people in the past. But I don't often feel the past so viscerally, in my gut, and I don't question my own vision and wonder if I'm seeing something from the past before my very eyes. Chatting and laughing over a bottle of cabernet with Ems and Dr.Phil, I felt completely and bodily transported back to our college days, when wine and laughter and looking directly and honestly into each other's eyes were a consistent part of our collective diet. Putting our memories of commonly-shared experiences together, I remembered so much of what has made me the woman I am today. It was, in a word, a breathtaking evening.

Ems and Dr.Phil might take their clan south to New Orleans for the next few years. That's good, because that's just one more place for me to plan to visit. But that's bad, too. I have just rediscovered Ems. It will be hard to let her go.

***

I didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended.

Dr.Phil proclaimed himself to be a Lostie. I was, naturally, immediately excited, and wanted to go over every single episode, every single passing comment, every single incidence of Black Smoke, and every single theory with him. But then I found out the truth, because these were the next words, more or less, out of Dr.Phil's mouth:

"So, there's that rodeo guy [hand movement imitating a gunslinger] with the long hair and drawl and he's in the water with that Korean dude who's all up in handcuffs or something, and the black guy with his son WALT who was taken by the pirates ["THE PIRATES?!" I interrupted with a shriek.] And so the pirates take Walt and the black dude is all mad and stuff. And then there's the Latina girl with the big lips, you know ["Yeah. ANA LUCIA." I stated sullenly] and she's got her own squad, and she's all thinking this one guy in the pit is the bad guy and she all kills him, but then goes up the mountain with this other guy and she knows he's the real bad guy so she [insert hand movements imitating stabbing someone], you know, with a big stick or something and then he's all dead and stuff. And then there's that big tall black guy who doesn't talk and isn't he something? And before that, I saw this one episode where that Korean chick lost her ring or something and she's all [insert loud weeping and moaning sound] but then Locke says something really wise to her ... dang, I wish I had written it down; it was really deep. Something about not being lost because he wasn't trying to be found or something like that. And then oh yeah, I saw the hatch, basement, whatever, and that muscleman who's all working out and stuff. And the numbers on the wall with the really old DOS computer and those bizarro numbers, and he's all got a gun to Locke and the sexy girl's head and then Dr. Matthew Fox jumps on down in there and he's all, "What do I do? Where have I seen this muscleman before?" But then the muscleman freaks out [insert frantic movement of arms above head] and runs away and Dr. Matthew Fox has to handle everything. So see? Now I'm all caught up and know everything."

Seriously.

***

The greater Boston area is ... cozy and charming. In my less-than-24-hours with Ems, we walked to a garden, an arboretum, and the grocery store (selling, of course, all manner of health foods and organic/natural products). This morning, Ems walked Junior to his elementary school bus stop and back. I just love all that walking. It's like living in Manhattan all over again ... but cleaner and nicer and crunchier.

I really envy that. I'm lucky enough now to live in an area where I can walk everywhere, too -- the grocery, the cafe, the library, the post office, the deli, and if I was really ambitious, the video store (I'm never that ambitious). But it's just not the same. There isn't the same feeling of houses sitting up against each other, neighbors knowing each other, that friendly granola/nearly-Oregonian healthiness. I can't explain it; you have to witness and live it for yourself.

I would never relocate up there ... and New York will never turn out like that, unless you live in the chic-chic parts of the Village or Brooklyn (and please, like I'll EVER live in BROOKLYN) ... but the idea is charming enough for me to dwell upon it and admire it the whole drive back.

***

There is something wrong with society when you're already driving 85 mph in the middle lane of a major highway, and (1) you are being passed on both sides; and (2) the cars coming up behind you are honking and flashing their highbeams at you to get out of the way.

REALLY WRONG.

***

I crammed so much into the past three and a half days. Three home visits, and none of them were nearly long enough for my taste (can't speak for my hosts). I long to spend more time with all of them. All of our lives, simultaneously, are in such flux right now. What I would give to be able to talk more, laugh more, cry more, pray more, hug more and generally more often be in the presence of these beloveds ...