I spent the night at my buddy Diane's house last night. She drove me to Oheka Castle on Long Island, where I had a lovely lunch and met equally lovely people. I was invited there by a marvelous man; one of those generous souls who is outwardly tough and scary. He's one of the most philanthropic gentlemen I've ever met. A real inspiration. He invited me to lunch so as to help promote Freak. He knows what I'm trying to do with it; ie help other insecure train wrecks like I used to be (now I'm just a car wreck - improvement a little at a time) and wanted to do what he could to help. It was wonderful. I sat next to a fascinating historian and a hilarious politician. All in all, the meal was an eclectic mix of fun and facts, art and politics, music and generosity. Then Diane came and got me. We went to her house and watched movies, each clutching a glass of wine and a brownie apiece. Her cat kept trying to get on the divan with us, which was strictly forbidden, so when she went to bed and I lay curled up on the comfy couch, I made cooing noises until the cat crept up and fell asleep on my belly, a purring comfort of fur and warmth. It was a beautiful day. I met some people who were truly interested in the memoir, fascinated by my World War II tattoo, and curious about future projects. Got up early this morning for Diane to drive me to work. After my shift, I walked home under a cerulean sky, just smiling to myself at how good my life is now, how far I've come from that suicidal basket case of a decade ago. If anyone had told me, in the past, that I would be where I am now, as happy as I am now, I wouldn't have believed them. Even if it was me. So hang in there if you're where I was then, and doggedly keep going forward. Because I'm where it was impossible to be only a few short years ago. I'm happy. Take care.