Eggs and Sweet Potatoes

Yesterday marked my second Easter in New York. The first was with Mom and Dad and a giant bowl eggs and sweet potatoes ala Deborah. Yum. The most recent was with Roxanne, plus alot of actors and lawyers and actors-turned-lawyers. Maybe even a lawyer that wanted to be an actor. It was a very complicated group. Sweet potatoes and eggs made a reappearance. And, this french toast casserole thing. Double yum. There were stories of home and new nephews and music I'm not cool enough to recognize and and a theater project involving STD improv. I don't think I've ever talked about STDs on Easter, nor felt compelled to wish everyone a "happy Easter, Passover, or... whatever you celebrate." But, I'm learning more and more to go with the flow.

Roxanne and I have been friends for 18 years. That’s a lot of sleepovers, school dances, trips to the mall, and bad haircuts. It also includes a bad Counting Crows phase and one too many pairs of Doc Martens. I was thinking yesterday if back then we could have ever imagined hanging out at each other’s apartments in New York City.

My conclusion?

Absolutely.

Now, our plans may have changed some. Roxanne wanted to be an actress and I, a writer. We traded those ambitions for a life of corporate slavery, but you do what you gotta do to pay the bills. We settled with hanging out with actors and writers instead. Not quite as glamorous, but it will do.

Now, if only that trade didn't mean that I had to spend holidays away from this Cabury Egg-let...