November 23, 2005

Sometimes you need people you can drink with. And last night, after angry calls from my mother, I definitely needed a drink or ten. I felt incredibly tender towards all other immigrant children.

As it happened, the wonderful Alysia came home at just the right moment after an evening of dancing and singing and headed straight for the booze cabinet. I was more than happy to join her — she drank a white Russian, I sipped cheap, white wine, and we laughed.

Soon we were sleepy and happy in front of the TV. This booze thing tastes better than angst.