Oh my friends, my friends, my people. How blessed am I in this world of cold screens and empty rooms, to have this widely woven net of flesh-and-blood friends. You are there for me in my morning terrors, ready to answer the phone before you’ve even had coffee. You are there when I need a couch to crash on, an ear to vent into, a lift in a car with all of my stuff, help with my computer, a cup of milk, an onion. You are there to celebrate my little victories and to cheer me on in my endeavors, pompoms waving like mad. You are there. You are here. You are real, and really — what more can one want in this wandering life, but this.