My best friend from childhood, whose name also happens to be Meg, had a baby the other day, a little girl named Sofia. It's hard to imagine that she's all grown up, since I don't feel all grown up at all, certainly not old enough to be married with a house and a baby. And it really doesn't seem like it was that long ago that we ran around in Underoos and got kicked out of our gymnastics class because we were talking too much, and traded KISS albums and played with the kittens. Our lives have gone in such different directions, I haven't really even seen or talked to her in several years. And it's sad, because even though we haven't been close friends for probably fifteen years, in some ways I still miss her. When I was little I always thought we'd have babies at the same time. I always thought we'd live next door to each other. I always thought we'd be friends forever.