And Did I Mention That My Neighbor Found A Bag Of My Pants On The Street?

It was moving day today in my household, which means a few things.

One, it means that I can't wait for a shower. It'll be a lingering shower tonight as I try to soak the heat up into my tired muscles and get my fingernails clean again (TMI?), as well as getting my feet back to their original, much pinker, color. It will be glorious.

Two, it means that we are now drinking out of plastic cups and that I'll be sleeping on a mattress on my floor for the next week. It also means that napkins will once again become a commodity, that I'll constantly be searching for something, and that when I go to cook that frozen pizza I bought (my attempt at "thinking ahead,") I'll realize the cookie sheets are packed. I'll improvise. There will be lots of improvisation in this here household until we finish moving everything and shut the door for good next weekend.

Three, it means that very soon, the three amigos (i.e. my roomies and I) will be splitting up, which is a sad thing. I know that musician Jackson Brown sings about all good things coming to an end. And I know that every beginning means another beginning's end. I know that, as Tom Petty puts it, "It's time to move on, it's time to get goin', what lies ahead I have no way of knowin', but under my feet the grass is growin'; it's time to move on; it's time to get goin'." I know all that song-lyric-ey philosophizing crap about change. But, still, it's sad. And I don't really mean that it's crap. I know that all of that stuff is actually very true. And I honestly have a deep peace that it's time for each of us to go our new ways ... two of us, to new jobs, and one, to school. It's just that I really love my roomies. We laugh together every day, see each other at our worst, get in the occasional "debate" (i.e. argument) about this or that, and then we always work it out. And did I mention that we laugh together everyday? And that we genuinely like each other? Last night, when we should have been packing, we took a break and sat together and belly-laughed until we were all laughed out ... about the most ridiculous things no less. Literally, we exHAUSTed ourselves laughing. And then we had no energy to pack anymore, because we were too tired from all the laughing. But it was worth it.

I think that's got to be at least one reliable mark of a good friend ... the ability to amuse one another and create fun no matter where you are or what you're doing. So, in their honor, a compilation of pictures taken recently at IHOP, at 2:30 am. You know you're good friends when you can be genuinely entertained at taking posed pictures at IHOP.

The Cast of Characters:

The Sleeper:



She and I have been friends for 10 years and share the same affinity for sleeping. So, it's only fitting that that's the position she chose for her pic.

The Jon Elway:



Not really sure that this picture describes much of anything actually true about him (as he's not even all that in to sports), other than the fact that he is a totally hilarious person who thinks nothing of striking a pose in IHOP when we request it. He and The Sleeper have been best friends since 7th grade, and I'm so thankful I got to know him through her.

The Butter Pecan:



Yep, that's me. And I DID just name myself after my favorite flavor of pancake syrup. You guys, if you have not tried the butter pecan syrup at IHOP, GO THERE. RIGHT NOW. Drop what you're doing. Quit reading this. And go eat pancakes with butter pecan syrup. It's not on the table; you have to ask for it, which really makes you feel all in the know, btw. But, seriously, it is deLICious. And, last time we were there, when I told the server how much I love it, he gave me a little container full to take home. That's my giddy butter pecan face.

Anyway, so we're moving, which means lots of things.

But for now, what it means is that I'm off to shower, and then, to bed.