A familiar taste.

Whoa. It's been way too long since we've last chatted. Actually, I take that back. It's my fault. It's been way too long since I last posted. My apologies. It's been one of those weeks that goes by faster than you had time to check the date. Suddenly it's Thursday, and lots of us have already expired. Black history month is in full swing, candy hearts are stocking the shelves, yet we've barely had time to adjust putting the 9 after the 2-0-0-. Inevitability, a bitch ain't it?

I can hardly identify why it went so fast other than the monotony of classes, commuting, and a taste of socialization. In fact, if it wasn't for last night, I probably couldn't distinguish this week from the last.

Dinner Party, round 2. Oh jeez. It was me who really wanted to make it happen. It had been way too long since I'd seen my winter-break life in action. On Monday I even discussed the menu with Ricky. I got approval from the host (Nate), and proceeded to finalize plans with Ricky. All was set...or so it seemed. I went to work Wednesday morning content as ever. I knew I had great night ahead of me, and I was under the impression all arrangements were set.

Text #1. 10:41 am. Ricky: "Are we having dinner at nates or did you make that up"
Text #2. 11:33 am. Nate: "Whats the dealio with tnight?"

Clearly things were not so set in everyone else's minds. I texted back the appropriate responses and extinguished all these small flames. Ricky was instructed to retrieve the groceries, while I take care of wine and dessert. In other words, an identical game plan to dinner party round 1.

6:53. I'm early. Nate's not even home from work yet. It's cold. I call Nathen. He says to give him 10 minutes. I place my bags on his stoop and clench my fists inside my coat pockets. His upstairs neighbors emerge, startled by the hoodlum gracing their doorstep. The second girl struggles to lock the door. Something isn't working for her. As she grows frustrated, I feel the need to smooth over my "voyeristic" identity, so I tell her I'm simply waiting for Nate, her neighbor, to get home. She says that it's fine, that she hates this door, or her keys rather, I'm not sure which was to blame. Eventually she prevails though, and flees off to her preheated car.

7:10. Nate's three minutes later than he'd promised, but nonetheless, he's here, and I'm frigid. Inside, he flusters by the door and I'm left to navigate the hallway in the dark. The hall seemed narrower than I remembered, and I could barely walk a few feet before I questioned the right direction.

I can't recall any specific minutes after that. I suppose those I could remember were frozen in mind from the cold. Ricky eventually arrived, with Jay, Andre, Nicky, T.J., and Dylan (Colin arrived later on). She acted as if the evening was speratic. That she hadn't known about it until this morning. Like the long discussion we had just 48 hours prior about breaded chicken in a mustard and orange sauce was just my imagination. Bull Shit.

She's lucky I love waffles. She didn't bring the chicken or any of the ingredients even remotely associated with breaded chicken in a mustard and orange sauce. None of it. Instead she brought Aunt Jemima's pantry and a carton of eggs. Thankfully, I was more than okay with breakfast for dinner. Since befriending these kids, I've grown a taste for waffles past noon. And while I was thrilled for the evening sunrise, I felt bad for my little box of pastries. Let's face it, breakfast is one of those meals where you legitimatley don't have room for dessert. I tried passing the canoli's off as an appetizer, but that was no more successful than a popsicle in the sun.

Thanks to Ricky and Andre, the food turned out fantastic. I stacked the waffles, thank you very much. We watched Alladin as we ate, and matched certain friends with their cartoon counterparts. My favorite was DOB as Lago the parrot.

In other events of the night, we all became video-stars. Keep an eye out for a 9 person collaboration of Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You." Truly epic. By midnight we were slowly draining out of Nate's basement. Given the hour, I actually wouldn't have minded just heading home, and dealing with the train in the morning. Yet the thought of not only waking up my family members, but gracing them with my surprise visit, was a bit much to fathom. I opted to stick to the plan and catch a train back to Poughkeepsie.

By 3:15 I was back in my own bed. I'd spent the last 2 hours being shaken awake by sudden jolts and a conductor letting me know it was in fact the last stop. I felt like such a nomad, yet contrary to past scenarios like this in my life, I was coming and going from places I knew, and people I loved.

Today was a bit exhausting. A late night, followed by a day filled with classes and meetings. By the time I hit the gym, my ambitions were clearly ahead of my body. I'm about ready to collapse into my bed as of now, so I think I will. I have to get up in just 4 hours to intern again, yet I couldn't fall asleep without saying all this. So there. I've posted, you'll read it, and I can shut my eyes.