K. texted S. for lunch advice and S. said, Come on over! The school was having a curriculum meeting which meant ordering in lunch and there was enough for us, especially after a colleague gave us the chicken she didn’t eat with her own meal. We ate at S.’s desk as she brought people by to say hello. There can’t be many friends of S.’s who I haven’t met yet. 

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We got booted from the library for the lunch hour so walked over to the cafe and ate and talked and took selfies and S. saw someone she knew. She always sees someone she knows. Does she know everyone in Luzon?

I have no idea how to count lunch when time disappears down a trans-pacific airplane hole. I guess the Delta SkyClub Tokyo bits and pieces were a close approximation although by that point I was pretty sure I never wanted to have a body again, much less one full of airport food. I took a shower (this was my best idea of the trip by far) and then tried the regionally-specific SkyClub snacks. The two people next to us were doing a mileage run through Singapore. He was fashion director for Kleinfeld Bridal for years, first job was assistant to a much younger Donald Trump, running interference to enable the whole Marla Maples thing. I love being an elite traveler. 

O. asked if he could try on his new sneakers while we sat and ate at the restaurant. I said sure, why not, he came around to my side of the table and slid out of his blue asics and into his orange asics. They are the fastest shoe, maybe you didn’t know that. Strong brand awareness for this guy, and he is only six years old.

I came in from the cold of the first 10K of marathon-watching to meet K. and O. for lunch at the noodle place in Union Square. O. had the chicken satay which is an appetizer so the waiter brought that first while we waited for our noodles even though really we all wanted to eat at the same time so we could get uptown and watch E. run past mile 22. I felt hurried. But of course we had plenty of time. When E. finally ran by he gave me a high five and it was the best. I can’t believe I know people who run marathons. I can’t believe some day I’m going to run a marathon.

D. took me to this place, I always get the spicy vegetarian ramen, D. gets the kind with two slices of pork, hold the scallions. Today J. got the spicy vegetarian ramen and I got the cold noodles in a spicy sauce, came with two kinds of pickle and shredded cabbage. Only about fifteen percent gossip, the rest was shop talk about the workshop, almost like we had that in common too.

It’s like Meg Ryan’s New York, said L. Rain against the window, bike with a basket locked up outside, the umbrellas moving past, bright against gray, a perfect day for soup.