People Used to Dream About the Future

Whatta day! I found out I was supposed to get a crown seven months ago (after I got a root canal the same day I went to Glasvegas), and it was news to me! At least my tooth shouldn't hurt anymore once I get it fixed. Then I was looking for a friend on Facebook this afternoon, someone I had last seen since about 1998 when I lived in New Orleans. No luck, though, and I figured it was because she has a different name, in a different city, and sometimes when you lose touch people are lost to you forever. I put it out of my mind and got dressed for the evening in an outfit the teenage me would have loved: black slip from Portland, leopard coat from Scotland, black Ann Demeulemeester boots, ironed newly near-black hair. Walking to meet a friend for a quick hot chocolate, I wished that somehow the past and the present could have converged so that I might have long ago had a glimpse of the future, that I would be thirty and that perfect moment. I met my friend, got into line to order, when someone touched my arm-- the very girl I had been looking for! She's been living in New York for ten years, had seen me walking by just then. Then I went to the dress rehearsal and it turns out I won't be in Performa, which means I have two free weekends this month I hadn't counted on. And I made it to a party I thought I'd have to miss. Just in time.