I'm sitting on my bed, still in the same clothes I wore to work (including my boots... wtf?), after over 4 hours of making Swedish meatballs to bring to work (for fun) tomorrow. I put together the gifts for my girls, listened to Head and the Heart pandora, and rolled, rolled, rolled those meatballs. Something about how simple this was caused me to just crack up alone in my kitchen. This is becoming more frequent in my life- this absurd happy laughter in the middle of nothingness. It's a really good feeling.

My roommate and her friend joined me in the kitchen and baked cookies (from scratch cooking is super common in our happy home) -- something about this is all I ever wanted from California, all I ever needed.

When 2011 happened, my only "resolution" was more of a goal... and this was to not look back, to not turn around - in the sense of not returning to Georgia and also not returning to whoever I was before. I needed to go away for real and become this girl, the one I am now, the one I am so happy to be. I live in a beautiful old Victorian with a real backyard. A cat lives here. My sofa bed was delivered today... we have curtains now and two mini Christmas trees. Something about this is more ideal than I could have created for myself in my mind. I feel like even if I don't have a million people to spend time with and I'm not writing for a living and I'm not doing all these things I might have planned for myself, I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing, and I'm doing it because I want to.

That's pretty cool.