Spicy Noodles and jellyfish

This afternoon, during my regular Wednesday afternoon tea break at Podunk, Elspeth and I discussed the idea of convergence. Luckily for me, we had this conversation after I finished drinking a highly-refreshing apricot coconut iced tea with blueberries and nibbled on dates stuffed with Gorgonzola cheese, almond tea cakes, cheese biscuits and one delicious chocolate truffle. If I understood Elspeth correctly, convergence is a special moment when things come together -not necessarily due to any specific planning -but as a result of different things aligning. It was helpful for me to hear this as there was another frightening bout of anxiety last week. These moments are also difficult for those around me and the idea of convergence clarified my desire for protection and safety in day-to-day life. This has made for some humorous moments recently. When they briefly forgot my iced chai latte at Cafe Grumpy Saturday morning, I knew I was in trouble when I almost started crying. The main counterman at Cafe Grumpy is - sorry Carl - really cute. He looks really Indian, (apologies if he isn't), is very, very nice -and completely unavailable. Anyway, for some reason, those factors helped me compose myself as he apologetically prepared my chai. Cafe Grumpy is, after all, a temple of coffee. It became clear as I observed another counterman continually doing something, to the top of their very fancy coffee machine. More importantly, I avoided the embarrassment of crying and graciously waited for my tea. Later on, throughout the holiday weekend, several more humorous moments of disappointments occurred. Again, the theme of convergence raising it's little head. Sunday morning, Little one, Carl and I drove out to Sunken Meadow, the United Nations of beaches, on Long Island. It was an absolutely beautiful day. Several of our fellow beach goers commented to each other on the bright, sunny windless day. After we set up shop on our little patch of sand, Carl took little one to the swings, as is his custom. I read for awhile, then wandered down to the beach and observed a Horseshoe Crab scuttling by under the water. After asking my neighbor about it, her son actually picked up the crab and created a small incident. Several people ran over to take pictures and oohed and ahhed. I was wishing that little one could see this and realized that over an hour had passed. At that point, I entertained visions of walking back to NYC and finally, I got dressed and marched over to the swings. I discovered Carl talking to another family and began crying about my abandonment on the beach. The other couple slipped away and Carl looked completely mystified. Suffice it to say, he and little one returned with me to the beach. The next day, Memorial Day, little one, Big Daughter, the Big D, Carl and I were all squashed together on one blanket and one towel. In the spirit of close quarters, Big Daughter and her pal had forgotten their towels. We were at the beach at Wading River State Park, near Riverhead, Long Island. Again, I found myself in an uncertain place. Without mentioning my discomfort, I decided to walk to the water's edge to soothe myself. As I stood there, meditating on the beautiful gradation of green to blue hues of the ocean, I looked down and observed about twenty baby jellyfish floating around my ankles. At that point, I accepted my Kafkaesque state of existence. Discomfort was inevitably in the cards. In an odd way, I found this strangely comforting: a convergence of truth perhaps. Anyway, the day ended on a high note. After driving back to the city, we decided on dinner at our old favorite, Grand Sichuan Restaurant, located at 125 Canal Street, just before the Manhattan Bridge. Carl and I ate there frequently, when we first met. As we waited for our order, we recollected a particularly memorable visit, several summers ago, on a 100 degree day. Big Daughter was on her annual visit to Belgrade and little one was a beautiful idea. After swimming at the Pitt Street pool in the early evening, we had walked over to Grand Sichuan. After dinner, as we prepared to pay, we realized we had no cash. We were requested to leave various articles for collateral; watches, metrocards,jewelry. It had been a few years since we returned. I was eagerly anticipating the Cold Noodles with Sesame Sauce and requested them mildly spicy. After my first bite, I was seized with a fear that I would never get rid of the hot taste in my mouth. Luckily, there was tea smoked duck and Chicken Lo Mein. Carl was happy to finish the noodles and I ordered a Tsing-Tao, which momentarily cooled me off and settled my nerves.