These days, with all our communication devices, blackberries, blue-tooth phones, and other gadgets, we get to hear what everybody else is doing, even if we don't want to. Instant communication is ubiquitous in our society - it's getting hard to remember a time when we were unreachable. There are few people in our circle of friends, for example, that don't carry a cell phone and/or a blackberry - and fewer still who mute their phones, or don't answer them, or resist the urge to take them out to check messages, while they're in your company.

In the very recent past, when a lunch or dinner guest would get on his or her cell phone or answer emails while we were in the middle of a meal - I'd think, (but not verbalize) "Hey - if that other person is so darned important, why don't you just go have lunch with her?!" But alas, I've long ago gotten over the idea that it's rude - which I think it is, and have come to accept it as progress. The convenience of being on call, and able to communicate, and continue making important business decisions 24/7 probably far outweighs the annoyance of having your casual conversations interrupted, your thoughts interrupted, your dinners and lunches interrupted, your life interrupted...by being subjected to half of someone else's phone call.

I've become so used to hearing snippets of stranger's conversations everywhere I go that they've almost blurred into white noise that I can choose not to overhear. That's why the following experience is so unique. I took a recess from my writing to go shopping. I went alone - it was to be a quick trip to the store with the express goal of acquiring a pair of jeans. That alone is a subject onto itself - jeans are a tricky matter - especially jeans that fit. They can be slim, or boot style, they can be stretch, or not - they can be low-rise or otherwise - but you still have to try them on to make sure they fit and look good, because it's tough to count on your size being standard across styles and designers. So, there I was in a dressing room, by myself, with several pairs of jeans - cussing silently to myself about the weight I must have recently gained, and the fact that the manufacturer's sizing chart was off, and other little petty complaints.

As I was struggling to pull on a pair of skin-tight jeans, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation in the dressing room next to me. And it wasn't just a one-sided conversation! The banter between the two occupants in the adjacent space actually made me smile - and in fact at times I had to stifle a laugh. Two women were trying on clothes, and talking loud. Though I attempted to stay in my own experience, theirs overwhelmingly slipped into mine, like water under my dressing room door. First they were complaining about the sizes of the clothes -- how the designers must have been smoking something when they sized the outfits. Then they started admitting they probably needed to lose some weight, and went on to rant about how they had attempted to lose that weight in the past, and what foods they'd had to give up. It was personal stuff-- full disclosure! And there I was - hanging on every word. The conversation then segued into the foods they loved, and how to prepare them. I was all ears. Their enthusiasm became almost orgasmic with descriptions of ingredients, aromas, and delicious, mouth-watering, methods for getting the recipe just right. I was intrigued, and beginning to salivate. While they tried on clothes, laughing, and complaining, they shared their secrets about how to cook savory dishes and where to buy special ingredients for them. Though I continued to try on jeans, I was totally absorbed by the women in the cubical next to me; listening intently - like a schoolgirl being dished juicy gossip.

I suddenly felt like a voyeur. I slunk out of my dressing room with a pair of jeans in a size that may not have met my expectations - but the adventure of shopping certainly had. I was grinning -- amazed at how this interchange had affected me. I'd actually overheard a nearly complete conversation that included two people. My God, it was almost weird, and kind of retro. I've become accustomed to being privy to lots of details about lots of people I don't know, and have learned to tune it out. It's the norm to listen to half of a conversation - to observe individuals with wires dangling from their ears talking to absent interlocutors. It has become common place to witness people in restaurants, subways, alone in their cars, and on crowded sidewalks, having full-blown, animated conversations with invisible counterparts. But something about overhearing two friends enjoy each other's company, laughing and joking about the regular stuff of life -- their weight, diets, and culinary prowess, made me feel really good.

I know - this is silliness personified. But what the hell. With all the other insane madness we're coping with today - this little moment in time was like music to my ears. It was a reminder that with all the changes we go through in life, all the adaptations we make - despite all the conveniences of short-cuts and time-saving devices -- there are some things that remain the same. Friendships are important, and enjoying the company of friends - face to face -- is still a worthwhile way to spend some time. And if you're lucky enough to overhear a full, two-sided conversation between friends like I did, you might even walk away with the best recipe for Pasta Bolognese you've ever tried.

We're on a roll to making history, and it's about time! Hillary Clinton has finally made her announcement to run for President of the United States, and is, as she stated, "in to win." I want to be among those who speak out loud and clear that I'm "in for her to win" too. This should come as no surprise to anyone who can Google our name -- Haim and I have made no secret of our affection, respect and continued support of the Clintons. And for me to ante up my $4300 toward her Presidential bid is the natural progression of that support. But as we all know, people change, past alliances can change - and it's not generally wise for us to take things for granted. But that said, Senator Clinton can count on me. I don't need a new fact-finding mission -- I don't need to re-check her background, or dissect her voting record. I have come to know this formidable woman, and have an immense respect for her intelligence, insight and political acumen. I also have enormous respect for her as a woman, and a mother. Though I like and admire many of the other candidates who have made the decision to run for the highest office in the land - and in particular, Senator Barack Obama, I've made my choice - and being coy or shy about my views would seem to me to be disingenuous. So, hear-ye, hear-ye, I'll be campaigning, and voting for Senator Hillary Clinton! With Nancy Pelosi in the driver's seat as Speaker, and the balance of power distributed more evenly as a result of the recent elections, Democrats are now poised to do some long-overdue damage control of our seriously wounded foreign policy, our devastating missteps in Iraq and Afghanistan, our homeland security, our environmental awareness, our healthcare system, our fiscal policy, and on and on. Senator Ted Kennedy reportedly said that the two greatest words uttered by President Bush in his State of the Union speech were, "Madam Speaker." I'm looking forward to the day when we will be hearing two even more incredible words for the US -- "Madam President."

I'm pretty sure that writing morning pages makes me a better person. Why is that, I wonder? How can something so simple--so mundane-sounding, so personal, and so basic, make me better? Actually, writing in the morning pages is part of my artistic process, for at the end of a few scribbled pages, I generally arrive at a state of creative bliss. I am energized, ready to get on with it, and I feel like I've shed a few pounds--the kind of mental pounds that weigh and slow you down. It's a generally accepted fact that journaling is a great way to reveal your own inner thoughts--the ones you may not like to admit--even to yourself. Somehow, when you put pen to paper and allow your hand to crawl across the page, your mind just can't resist laying out some of the things it's been pondering, no matter how trivial, petty and nasty they may be. And as you begin to write and read along, you discover things about yourself, and about others that you perhaps knew in theory, but hadn't verbalized, because there wasn't an appropriate time or method to do so without serious reprisals. Indeed, you realize that you may have needed to regurgitate some of those pent up feelings to someone--but there wasn't a religious confessor available--and oh well, I guess pouring them out onto a blank page to nobody at all but yourself was the next best method, and at any rate, it seems to be good enough. May I simply state that it is better than good enough. I have found that I can spill out all my aggravations, my dreams, my angst, my petty feelings of jealousy, self pity, and anger without pissing someone else off. I can strut out all my whining, and complain about all the social injustices perpetrated against me, against the world, until I eventually come to a place where I actually write something interesting. That's not to say the first few pages are not interesting... they are immensely so. But they may not be of the caliber I'd like to traipse out for public viewing.

Every once in a while you get an opportunity to walk in the presence of angels. I recently experienced one of those moments at a luncheon my husband and I hosted for Nobel Peace Laureate, Professor Muhammad Yunus - the venerable economist and microfinance guru from Bangladesh.

Though I don't live under a rock, and have been aware of Dr. Yunus' amazing work for some time, listening to him speakagain simply reinforced my belief in miracles. This is a man who is changing the world -- boldly, stridently, peacefully, simply, in tiny bits, one micro-loan at a time.

Dr. Yunus eloquently recounted the story of the inception of the Grameen bank - the bank he and a few like-minded friends formed in Bangladesh to rectify what he saw first-hand as an undeniable discrepancy in the economic pecking order. Yunus realized that banks did not lend money to the people who really need it - the desperately poor. He decided to do something about it. "It's not people who aren't credit-worthy," he said, "It's banks that aren't people-worthy." So, he dug into his own pocket and began to make small loans - extremely tiny loans -- without collateral, lawyers, or paperwork, to Bangladesh's poorest citizens. His first foray into micro-finance amounted to his giving $27 to each of 47 people, which essentially allowed these individuals to pay off their debts and be free. Free of debt - free to get on with the business of becoming economically independent. What a concept.

Dr. Yunus has reached a kind of Brothers Grimm fairytale status. While in childhood fairytales, it was Rumpelstiltskin who wove straw into gold; in real life Dr. Muhammad Yunus spun twenty-seven dollars into billions. His ideas and programs have helped transform the lives of some of the poorest communities on the planet. The Grameen bank he founded now has about 7 million poor borrowers. The idea of micro credit has been replicated in over 100 countries. The people who receive these loans, and by the way, 94% of them are women, use the money to raise themselves and their families out of devastating poverty. 98% of these desperately poor people pay their loans back. Yunus has seen life-altering progress. He told us about a woman who, upon receiving her tiny loan - called him an angel. He said, "If I can be an angel to someone by giving them $27, then think what I could do with $50!"

Dr. Yunus is a man who dreams big, and asks only that we dream big with him. He encourages entrepreneurs to wrap their heads around some of the most fundamental problems facing society -- poverty, obviously being one of them -- and to come up with creative, out-of-the-box social solutions. An example of such expanded thinking is his new Social Business Enterprise platform that he's rolling out with several companies, including DANONE foods. This particularly innovative collaboration plans to build very small community-centered yogurt factories in impoverished neighborhoods. It must be small so that local animals can be used, and so that transportation and refrigeration are minimized. The goal is for the children of the community to receive healthy yogurt to eat. As I mentioned before, Dr. Yunus isn't averse to dreaming big - he has even asked the research and development team of DANONE Foods to come up with an edible cup to hold the yogurt. "These poor people shouldn't spend their limited resources on something they must throw away, so the cup the yogurt comes in must be edible, and nutritious too."

Throughout his talk, Dr. Yunus glowed with enthusiasm and optimism, and was an inspiration to us all. He is clearly energized by the changes he has helped bring about, and by the possibilities that still exist. As the assembled lunch guests listened to Dr. Yunus describe his vision to eradicate poverty in our lifetime, I think we all knew we were in the presence of an angel. And since it feels very good to be around someone like that, it seems we're ready to follow him wherever he goes.