i met a guy when i was eighteen.

i had just graduated from high school.

was being treated like an adult for the first time.

and this guy liked me.

and i remember lying in bed thinking, well, i should just go for it. i should have the experience.

and i made the decision to like him. because i thought such decisions were possible.

and for a wee bit of time the delusion held.

but just for a bit.

because before long i learned such things as like and love are never decisions. but inevitables.

he lived uptown. i visited his apartment twice? maybe.

and he handed me a key.

ceviche. and houston.

i arrived home in houston yesterday.

i'll be spending one glorious week here before heading to utah for the next few months.

last night we thought long and hard where to go for my first meal back in town. and in the end it was the lure of goode company's ceviche that made the decision for us.

ah, it's good to be home!

ice cream. not all good?

i tend to go through food phases.

and of late i've wanted nothing so much as ice cream.

but on friday night when my friend megan suggested too much ice cream was one of the causes of kidney stones, i took that little nugget of information for the gift that it was:

reason enough to lay off the mint chocolate chip. (for tonight at least).

two bags.

there's one large suitcase sitting next to my bedroom door right now.

and an overstuffed blue tote.

my room is littered with all those things i'm just not sure what to do with.

to take this sock or not?

this piece of paper--can i throw it away?

i know it's only three months. i know that.

and yet.

it just feels so... so long.

and so i pack my life into a large black suitcase and one blue tote.

my life. {deep, long exhale}

i know this is the right thing.

in my gut i know it. i know good things will come from this.

and yet.

i can't imagine the other end.

the three months feel as they might just swallow me whole.

and they might just.

and that's okay.

i know that.

and yet.

i can't bring myself to move that large black suitcase and one blue tote to the hallway from which i'll leave tomorrow morning.

from which i'll open our heavy black door, cross some sort of threshold, and close it quietly so as to not wake the others.

perhaps it's that i'm afraid of who i will be--or won't be, what i will know--or won't know when i return. black suitcase, blue tote in hand.

and right now this little expedition, this... trudging through slush of my own self-doubt and deep-brurried belief, feels awfully lonely.

cookie

it should be noted that i spent all night (yes, all night) attempting to make cookie monster cupcakes.

why, you ask?

as an i'll-see-you-in-three-months gift for little zoobie (my nineteen-month-old friend that i look after a few afternoons each week). she loves cuppycakes which shall here-to-for be called "happy-ahs" (derived from happy birthday, of course) and on top of that she is nuts for all the sesame street characters. most especially: elmo, abby, big bird (bia), and cookie (which she pronounces by simply grunting).

so yes, this one little happy-ah took me all night. hopefully, i'll get a few more turned out. but the others are downright terrifying. can you blame me? remember, i'm not particularly adept with frosting.

note: if you're confused as to why i won't see zoobie for three months it's because i'm off for some fresh-air in utah!