Last night my friend and I drove down to the new Briarcliff Village to get a cuppa at "Latte Land"(who thought of that name?) The place is very new and very trendy with geometrical shapes and strait lines on surfaces what were either green or beige with a few blue accents. There was a fire, a fake fire yes(meaning that it was gas instead of wood), but a fire going in a little "back from the 60's" fireplace thing that jutted out into the room. I got my cup of way too sweet coffee mocha latte mint whatever-it-was and my friend got her tea. We sat down in front of the fire and just talked and enjoyed our time together. We talked about change, how much it stunk, but how necessary it was. And how in some instances it is exciting and fun. Somewhere in the middle of my conversation with her, I slowly began to realize something in my subconscious. We were sitting there because we had changed. We were enjoying our time together so much because we had something to talk about, namely change. We were there by means of us getting old enough to go out by ourselves in a car, we got old enough by changing. How could something so uncomfortable make so many things come about? What is change? Holy crap. Day by day in everything that I do the bitter sweet change of growing up is making me appreciate what I did have, what I do have, and what I will have. Because no matter what happens, it will change eventually.

So we finished our drinks and sat there for a long time, talking and changing together.