That’s a lyric from this song, one of my favorites by Sara Bareilles.
That was kind of what was going through my head as I visited with a friend yesterday. She is also going to Chile next semester, albeit at a different school, but we both leave around the same time. Which means that we’re both facing down this big trip that looms in the very near future.
It was really nice to talk with her about getting ready to leave and saying goodbye. It seemed like we both had this feeling that the time we got at home this summer was too short, or that we’re only just now appreciating the time we have (had?), when of course there’s so little of it left.
We also talked about how little time we might have left in the homes we grew up in. She plans on staying around school next summer, and I am not limiting my employment or internship options next summer to my hometown. That’s a scary thought, isn’t it? That we’re actually getting old enough where we are facing the fact that eventually, we must leave home. It’s made even scarier by the fact that we’re both reflective people, and we recognize that we’re entering this time in our lives, a time that is almost entirely transitional and not settled at all.
Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself. After all, I’ve still got a year and a half left on campus once I return from Chile. But still. Next summer might involve (gulp) scoping out employment options for after graduation. I might have to prep to take the LSAT and the GRE. I feel like I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I need to start thinking long-term. Not like ten or even five years long-term, but maybe like two or three years. And that’s longer than I’ve ever really thought in my life.
Has anyone else ever dealt with that? Or am I just that cerebral?
Let’s eat something. A conversation like that merits dessert.
Except this friend and I couldn’t decide what to bake. As the evening wore on, we became less and less enthused by the prospect of making a mess and waiting for something to bake and then cool. We also just wanted something fresh, not heavy or rich.
When that happens, go buy some heavy whipping cream and get out the fruit you have on hand- specifically, summer fruits like berries and peaches.
Whip up the cream with some sugar. Wash and slice the fruit. Dip. Enjoy.
The only way it could have been fresher would be if I had picked the fruit and milked the cow myself.
I am not a cat person. My immediate family does not have any pets, but we do have cats in our extended family. I do not like them. I have found them to be hostile, and I reciprocate the hostility. Unfortunately, this has extended to all cats in any home. Except for last night. My friend’s family has a cat, and yesterday, I let the hostility go. And then the cat curled up on a chair and fell asleep and I got the warm fuzzies and took this picture:
The printer and the scanner are two remarkable inventions.
Tea is magical.
That moment when you realize you’re coming out on the other side of a cold is awesome.
Okay. Maybe I’ll have a real, I-followed-a-recipe-and-used-an-oven dessert for you next time.