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Bond, James and I flew back from Israel to our small one-bedroom apartment on the 22nd floor of a renovated building on Wall Street that he had moved us in to while I was away.  It comes with a private terrace with an amazing view — and not a stitch of furniture.  We shopped for most of the furnishings together, on line or in shops and in the process of interior & exterior decorating, we found a synchronicity, he and me.  Amazing, really, for a slightly younger geek from Tampa and a slightly older New York City babe . . . One of our first nights home, it was unusually warm so we slept outside on that terrace of ours, totally enjoying the fact that we were lying under all those stars, together — and knowing we will be (together) for a good long while (whatever that means).

Karen and Tool Man (they’re a forever thing), Emma and Mr. Vegas (she’s beginning to believe it) and Pailey and Tantra Guy (hey, no harm in hanging’ with a guy who knows his shakras) are coming for dinner next week, to toast the sunset and christen our first ever outdoor electric grill.

Two years ago, I sat down in front of a blank screen, never imagining any of what’s happened would have happened since: Broadway (critical acclaim from the choices I’ve made), my pals (single, married, gay and straight who talked me over the mud puddles after some pretty crazy rainy days) the apparently never-ending sublet of my co-op (which is a large part of my financial freedom) and the joy that comes from living unscripted.

Travel has always been a part of my story but the the best trip of all was the journey to me. Since the break up of my marriage to a man I thought I would always adore, I discovered that conventional is only a word and that “normal” and “correct” is however I choose to live my life. In the process of letting go of the past, I left the country, took off on my own – and began living in the present. I learned how positive-speak can effect change.  I trusted in the Universe more times than not, celebrated my joy and realized that all the so-called mistakes I’ve made, led me to here. And that’s a good thing.

I’m still on that learning curve of love, loss and how to handle the day-to-day . . . becoming parent-less, even in the age-of-maturity, can still feel like sailing without a rudder; I miss them.  But it seems that after years of trying to figure out who I am, having found myself in mid-life suddenly single with grown children who live in other states and deciding to stick with a challenging career I can’t imagine giving up on, I’m home.

NOTE TO SELF: Spotlight out. Curtain.