i would like to extend to you an invitation to the pie party. you know. the party. with the pies.

people who have known me long enough could probably tell you that one of the things i've always wanted most is to be a mom. no idea why, but the urge is in there and i've never been able to ignore it. unfortunately, i have a penchant for travel, i'm always late, and i can't cook.

however, this weekend, i learned that despite my abysmal skills in the kitchen, the insane side of me will still decide to casually ignore my incompetence and will invite people over for home-made pie. did i know anything about making home-made pie? no. did i panic a tiny bit when i went to the market and all they had left was one tiny can of pumpkin? absolutely. but, these european fools don't have pumpkin pie here, and we all know that november isn't november without it. so i was on a quest. nay, a mission. to serve them one of the best parts of american cuisine.

so you know what i did? i baked a pumpkin pie from a real wedge of pumpkin. NO LIE. then apple pie from real apples. i may be lost when it comes to planning meals, but i am damn resourceful when wielding flour, sugar, and fruit. so if and when i eventually find myself in motherhood, well, at least i'll have this.

btw, my pie party was a success, partially due to my baking, though wine made a sizable contribution, as did my friend lisa. same time, next year.

red cups, red cups all around.

oh dear lord, the toffee nut latte is back. now i think i miss america a tiny bit less.

turns out...

my immense hatred of british airways is eclipsed by my even more immense hatred of easyjet's baggage policies. after they charged me nearly $100us in excess luggage, and THEN made me condense everything into ONE bag last spring, i avoid them.

i'm coming home, which is no small task considering how complicated it is to design a route coming in and out of london. i'll do almost anything to pick up those frequent flyer miles with v-a, and even more than that to avoid flying through the level of hell known as chicago in december/january. i am not a fan of this whole "no direct flights from lax to prague" business... someone should rectify that.

i am, however, so excited to see my family again. i'm still not sure if/when i'll be moving back to the usa, but it's been too long since i've been home. i get questions like:
"when are you coming back?"
"are you coming to visit soon?"
"what are your plans?"
"so next time you come home... are you staying?"
the thing is, i started, ever-so-vaguely, to make plans for coming back. it's true -- i thought maybe it was time for me to buckle down, select a career, and perhaps consider living in only one place for a while.

plans change. actually, i hate to use the word "change" because they aren't entirely different. just diverted, or rearranged to fit possible new plans. i once wrote that i don't take a major leap of faith unless i have a small semblance of a guarantee. not that everything will go as i hope or expect, but just that i know i wouldn't be all alone.

i suppose there's plenty of time, but i can feel the breaths coming and going, and me considering just how deep it's going to be in the end. the time might be coming to jump off the highest dive yet.
"do you think you could ever sit still? and not just for a year, but for five, ten, maybe fifteen?" the answer is always the same: if i found a reason, i could. i just need to be given a reason.

ah, but i hate to get ahead of myself.
so for now, i'll just start learning french.