This weekend I went to Boston, where it’s ten degrees colder than New York, but always warm in my heart. I sat on the radiator in my old bedroom and looked out at the courtyard. Dr. Joleen told me all about full day rotations and crazy pediatric heart problems, and Ivan jogged through the freezing dark to join us. I pestered Esther to say what she thought of my second novel and, luckily, didn’t have to pester too hard. Rohini and I made plans to visit Hampi, India. I gossiped and tossed around a red handball with Andy, Lia and George in Andy’s office, and got hugs from Hist & Litters. Ping and I drank new agey-named tea. Case, Michelle, Mike, Namwali and I defied the fascist rules of a restaurant. Then Namwali (also known as the Leper Swan Mall), the unanagrammable Mike (the Conquistador), and I traded BSG theories. Starbuck is a half-human/half-Cylon hybrid, I’m certain. And Namwali said that I am some kind of Risk Maker or Risk Taker, and why do I have so many k’s in my name, anyway? It snowed fluffy snow on the morning I took the train back to New York with Thomas, and the train is always my favorite way to travel, even when it takes me away from such good friends.