And so it begins.

Goodbye, lovely apartment.

I came home to this tonight:

No couch; instead, a baby.

Katie's moving to D.C. for PA school, and I'm leaving two weeks later for grad school in Indiana. Slowly but surely our apartment is getting emptier....emptier...emptier. Each Penske truck that pulls away takes a load of conveniences with it. The coming weeks consist of air mattresses, paper plates and gymnastics in our new open space.

Amy.

Happy Birthday to the one and only Amy Taylor-Norwood. We've only been friends for a little over a year, but she's already proven herself to be one of the most loyal people I know. Combine that with impeccable music taste, a love of avocado and the ability to satisfy any foot fetish - I think I've got a keeper.

Here's to you, bestie.

Happy Birthday, Marcy.

Marcy is the lovely woman who shared an office with me for my first nine months in the real world. She's a phenomenal nurse; consequently, she now knows more personal details about me than she'd like. She has walked me through my taxes, given me boy advice, and although she denies it, she will one day help deliver all five of my sons.

I wouldn't make sugar-free cupcakes for just anyone, Marcy.

Heath.

Watching The Patriot with Calli, and we remembered that we love Heath.

And hate the British.

Oh yum.