We finally closed on the house. Which means a whole lot of change is going to be upon me soon.
Last night, I got a little nostalgic knowing that it would be my last time voting at the poll I've been going to for years. My parents' address is still on my driver's license, so I get to go vote at my elementary school. As I walked out of the auditorium last night, I paused to look at the lunch tables. I remember sitting there, awkward and skinny, not wanting to eat my sandwiches. It made me a little sad that I won't have a reason to go back for visits anymore.
As part of this whole packing-up-and-moving-on process, I'm feeling compelled to write posts honoring the apartment that has housed me for the last 8 years. I never thought I would be there so long. I remember talking myself out of painting and making changes many times because I thought, "I'll probably move soon anyway." Oh, how time flies.
The little yellow 1950's masterpiece below is my kitchen. It's a place that I have loved and hated through the years. Loved its extensive storage space, its warmth, its ability to provide me with what I need to prepare great meals. Hated it for being the place that forces me to do dishes. I cannot wait to have a dishwasher.
It's also the place where Mr. Wonderful cooked for me the very first time.
Before he and I met in person, we teased each other back and forth online about who would cook for whom first. Naturally, the gourmet won.
He showed up to my house with chocolate soufflé batter in a Tupperware container, a bottle of wine and all the fixings for chicken Marsala. He was wearing a brown and turquoise striped shirt and I remember being excited because I was wearing the same colors. A sign, perhaps.
He seemed a little nervous as he found his way around my kitchen utensils and pans. I sat on the counter and watched him, thinking his awkwardness was adorable. Maybe he was just thrown by my olive green 70's stove...
After we ate his delicious soufflé and polished off the bottle of wine, we sat side-by-side on the couch looking at vacation pictures on his iphone. I was enthralled in the images of Italy when he grabbed the phone from my hand, took me by the shoulders and kissed me. The rest is a post for another time...and maybe another website...
Thank you, Kitchen, for helping facilitate that first kiss.