We've enjoyed serving you for the last 22 years.

I'm typing on my brother's weirdo keyboard, so there will probably be typos.

I've been packing up my room; I came home (I should put that in quotes; where is home now, anyway?) and my room was ransacked. Most of my furniture was gone; my parents brought it up to Idaho for me, that was so nice. My room has been a wreck for ages, but this time was so much worse. I know I'm spoiled, but I've never, ever come home without having my bed ready for me and my room almost just how I left it.

I was standing there just now, looking around, after I finished all the cleaning, organizing, and throwing away, and thinking how empty it looked. Some of my stuff is still in there, and it still has my flavor, but it's different. And a terrible thought came to me.

My room doesn't welcome me anymore.

Then I modified the thought: my room tries feebly to welcome me, but it's not entirely succeeding.

I think of it saying, You're back! Oh, please forgive the mess. How are you?? Well, just put your suitcase down right there, and go to sleep in the nice soft be--oh, well, that's not here anymore. I'd entertain you with TV or music, but those have been removed also. But I'm fighting! I still have a phone--and books! Lots of books!

My room is going out of business. So is my childhood.

Why don't translators EVER work?

Seriously. I think I'll be all cute, talking Spanish to Jason out of nowhere, and I try to say something romantic only to have him start convulsing in laughter and tell me I actually said I resent the jelly for being a great dane's shoe or something.

I should be on my way to Ashley Tovar's right now, but I haven't written in forever. Jason came down here to Nor Cal for a week, and everyone seems to really like him. Then we went down to So Cal to see his folks for a few days. That was really fun; they seem to like me, and they're really good people. I sent them a thank-you note yesterday. I'm a brown-noser.

We went to Disneyland while we were there. It wasn't as fun as I thought it would be, but it was fun being there with Jason. We've both always wanted the chance to go there with a significant other.

Now I'm recovering from having my wisdom teeth out and learning that had I known then what I know now, I would have gorged on all the chewy, crunchy foods I could find beforehand. I mean, when a grilled cheese sandwich just kills your mouth, that's really pathetic. It could be worse; I could have cancer. I could be paralyzed. But I'm awfully tired of the liquid diet. I'd better be losing weight from this.

I'm planning on going back to ID on Tuesday, and really hoping I don't get any more delayed, because I miss my baby. I miss being there, and all my friends, and my apartment, but I miss Jason most of all. I think it's not so bad when I'm not talking to him, maybe because I'm so used to being alone and not dating anyone, but when we're on the phone, it's just torture. (Especially when he starts speaking Spanish. Oi.)

I'm really twitterpated.

I'm smitten. I'm in deep smit.