Yesterday, I was looking through my blog stats to see who have come to visit. Sometimes the links are from blogs whose authors I  know. When I saw the link for Liz’s blog, it occurred to me how cool she is. She’s a nurse working in DC. She’s a world traveler. She’s a humanitarian. She’s funny and spunky and thoughtful. She’s not too tall. I get the impression she’s somewhat of a romantic. When she introduces herself, it’s “Elizabeth” as she extends her hand. For some reason I really like that. She sort of rocks a pair of aviator sunglasses. We share similar opinions on the friends we keep, and we hold in very high esteem our mutual friends. I’ve only been able to hang out with her a couple of times, which is why it sometimes surprises me that she reads this blog. This also allows me to forgive her for the time we happened to attend the same temple session but then she seemed to jet at the very end. I looked for her everywhere. She said later it looked like I was praying. I guess I can’t blame her for leaving. If it looked like I was praying, and if prayers can go on for hours or days at a time, if I were her, I would have left and gotten myself a falafel sandwich. I don’t know if she got a falafel sandwich, but she was all the wiser for leaving. My side of the story is that I was in between meditation and sleep. Honestly, I was too tired to string words together in the form of a prayer inside my head, so yeah, I defaulted to meditative semi-consciousness. I opened my eyes a few minutes later and headed to the Lower East Side to meet up with her and a few others for some famous blueberry pancakes at the Clinton Street Bakery. I was relieved we didn’t lose each other. I wouldn’t feel that way if I didn’t like her so much. Seems I’m pretty dang lucky I feel that way.