Last night, in a hazy, tired blur, I decided NOW was the time to buy tickets to New York. I'm a state of the art procrastinator (really though, the how-to manual may be my first published endeavor) but I get things done, solely because it'll occur to me at 12.32am that 12.32am would be a great time to accomplish x,y, and maybe z if time allows. Last night's x (due to it's magnitude, we'll allow it to cover y as well) was the last of my tickets for my trip.
For those of you who haven't heard the attempt to talk about March in a nonchalant manner, the choking back of wild cries of excitement, and the pounding of my heart when the words "warm weather" come to mind, I'm taking off for a few weeks to see a few of the very dear and not so near, and cross a few places off the Bucket List.
Turkey first to go see the jelly to my peanut butter, the Jeeves to my Bertie, the Sriracha to my culinary experience: Hannah McMillan. The Hagia Sophia, Ephesus and the bazaar with the addition of a certain Brent Miles (and Ryan Closner if he has not yet been arrested) are also in the works. We do have day allocated to an old fashioned spa date at a Turkish hammam and I have high hopes for several evenings at salsa-inclined bars.
Then it's off to Sri Lanka to see the much missed rents, eat my fill of rice and curry (everyday, mind you), and spend several weeks of tea filled good times with my beloved Melissa. Several things I can't wait for include (but are by no means limited to): seeing my littles from two summers ago, getting a good solid sunburn in the process of lying on the beach for way too long, prawn springs rolls at Flower Song. Bring it.
|We will miss this one.|
And then I'll come back to start my next post-internship Seattle chapter.