Here's to...
too-small apartments, lack of parking, and a prison-sized sink; to bunkbeds (To bunkbeds!) and food made of soy; to IMs, invoices, someone sleeping on your floor; to snowpants and 11 people digging out your car; to breadboard philosophies and half-baked theories; to zombies and the coming apocalypse; to late-night grocery store runs and staying up with friends; to garage sales, curbside junking and dumpster diving; to nerds downstairs who download the world; to simplicity and electricity; to job applications, posts and rejection letters; to getting "hammered and sickled" with Leninade; to praising God when you didn't get a job you really didn't want; to sleep overs and dinners (in the same evening), Goodwill and Dollar Tree presents; to kneading, baking and bagging bread; to roadtrips that empty your pockets but enrich your life; to hostels, gum walls and weddings you never reach; to salmon and ratatouille and splurging for a Rolling Wok feast; to gardens and muddy shoes; to bicycles and the punks who steal them; to searching Craigslist and sipping mate from gourds; to animation and good films; to gnomes, used books shops and maps; to ninjas and pirates; to classic rock, real musicians and mashups; to futons that creak; to minimum wages jobs and the co-workers who become an odd family; to paper lifesavers and Dinner Roast holiday meals; to experimental cooking and butternut squash; to a clean apartment, incense and a warbly parakeet; to knowing "it too shall pass"; to the comedy of errors that is being independent; to steady (and floozy!) clients and PDFs with corrections; to odd design jobs and random inspiration; to hats, musicals and outcasts; to photo shoots, skinny dipping and lost pets; to questions that often don't get answered; to wondering if I'll make rent; to opera and coffee and the animal crackers you dip in it; to a family who makes you laugh and somehow cry; to shuffling a deck of cards called "Beliefs" and sitting quietly to hear silence; to yoga, to yoga, and 24-hour diners; to $5 worth of fries and curse-word therapy; to blogs, bloggers and vinyl; to profiles, pictures, information overload and the power button to turn it off; to too many books, farmers markets and bartering; to three-green salad (or was it four?); to free music, lunches and sweating through the summer to save on electricity; to an AC that leaks cold winter air and broken coffee pots; to closets being for clothes, shoes, odds and ends but not people; to Tardis and Sherlock; to being wrapped in blankets because there is minimal heat; to a teddy bear that shares a bed with you; to being drowsy after watching a winter solstice lunar eclipse; to Spanglish and breakfasts that consists of huevos rancheros, coffee, tortillas, beans, and avocados; to being (technically) poor but feeling like the world is yours; to dreaming in ink and laughing at life; to a group of friends that will "never be old enough."
Viva my vie boheme!
