Monday night in the 215

I didn't bring lunch to work today, so I walked over to Reading Terminal Market.  That place has so much character.  I feel like a tourist when I'm in there.  There's just this feeling of history and culture -- and a certain kinetic energy and vibration there -- that makes it feel alive.  Maybe precisely because I was coming from the mundane, neutral (if not sometimes negative, energy-sucking) vibe at work, there's a certain escapism to being in Reading Terminal Market, from the buzz of all the people working there to all the people passing through.  I also think the variety of foods is some sort of subliminal reminder that there's a whole world out there.  That's a feeling I love to have.  It reminds me of Pike Place Market in Seattle or Jean Talon Market in Montreal or maybe even Camden Town Market in London, all places I've been in my travels.  Again, there's something transcendentally cultural about a good market, and Reading Terminal Market is up there with the best.

After work, Jeannie and Seva came with me (after a typically jam-packed ride on the 17 bus) to Neighborhood Books, so I could re-load on reading material, having just finished Blindness by José Saramago around the middle of last week.  Since the shopowner was closing -- we walked in just a few minutes before 7pm -- I quickly browsed the fiction section to come up with a couple good finds: Mexico City Blues (242 Choruses) by Jack Kerouac and Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez.  As I told the shopowner, I'm only looking for fiction these days that I can digest in short bits, since Seva is only five weeks old and thus my capability to concentrate on reading is not at its sharpest.  I need material that I can easily digest.

Finally, I just want to memorialize my feeling at this moment that life is pretty good.  I've been blessed with an amazing wife.  And in turn we've been blessed with a beautiful, healthy daughter.  Not to forget Rocky and the Baby, who've been my family for nine years now and whom I love dearly for their faithful love and companionship.  It's not as if we're without our challenges, don't get me wrong.  But I'm thankful for my home life.  As I write this, the Baby is below me to my left, making soft meow noises and gently requesting attention.  For all of this, I thank God.