School's out, the weather's still freaky, and I'm huddled in Serkan's comforter and he'll be back in 2 hours to bid me goodbye before he goes home for the first time in a year and a half. I leave later tonight, thankfully on business class (thank you, singapore airlines, for my free voucher!). I'm coming home with all the goodies I was asked to bring, and some goodies I wasn't asked to bring, dresses that are possibly inappropriate for monsoon weather, pretty blouses and warm fuzzy happiness that I'm ready to cloak all my friends in.

I'm sniffly because I conveniently fell sick the day of my last final. To counteract my head stuffiness and snifflineness, I just burnt a couple of dvds of Gilmore Girls and Grey's Anatomy and Pedro Almodovar's Volver. I am currently burning a music cd full of Jenny Lewis & The Decemberists because I need my fix of indie pop. I also have this burning desire to babble things in Spanish, possibly because I am thinking about Almodovar and his beautiful Spanish women again.

***

For me, sometimes, Serkan's house is the intermediary between my two separate lives. I still want to go back to school, to run into the arms of my friends, but I want to go back home too, and bake cookies and cupcakes and languish spectacularly with my table gang and all those special things. But yesterday I realized that sometimes, more than anything, I want to just rest in this small space between everything, where nothing can touch me because its where I go to eat steaming bowls of Korean food, get cuddled to eternity, and get woken up in the morning to kisses on my forehead.

It's pretty blissful now, and things are going to get bad in a matter of months, so I'm just going to hold on tight and enjoy myself for the time being.