This morning my mom told me that she would get me a puppy for Christmas. When I shared the news with Mikey, he replied – with a pout – “I thought I was getting you a puppy for Christmas.” the votes are in – I’ve clearly won this one. New campaign: Iafrate baby ’09!!

They might have to collaborate on the beag-let. Mikey doesn’t know how to get a dog or accessories. Either way, I will have a furry little bundle of joy SOON! And our apartment is going to be REALLY full.

Last night I was talking to Maggie, who, immediately after getting married this past summer, moved to Vegas “for the experience”. A quote from our conversation… Living here is an adventure, but so is a two-week vacation. I’ve had enough.

I also talked to my friend JK last night. Another mountain-mama who recently moved to Frederick, Maryland. A whole two inches from WV, but nonetheless she said I felt like I lost my spine and my identity and everything when I had to change the plates on my car.

I think there should be some compilation of leaving-WV-stories. I have several in my inbox from strangers who’ve seen photos of my tattoo and feel the need to share their story with me. Project! I can at least compile all of them and get actual books bound and printed from that Lulu company that will make you a book of any pdf that you send. Any suggestions for a title?

Tonight Michael and I ate a jar of my grandma’s green beans with our dinner, and it didn’t upset me. A month ago it would have. Maybe it’s only because I already cried about grandma food once today when I got an email from her which mentioned that she was getting ready to start making things for tomorrow’s dinner. I remember the first thanksgiving that Jess was away from home, we called her in the middle of the afternoon and I gloated to her about how I’d gotten the middle roll. I had no idea how traumatic it would be to be the one far away, who’d kill for even a scrap of an edge roll.

I will survive, as long as I keep getting cute emails like this:

Anytime ya’ll are ready to start our hippe commune and live off the land somewhere in middle america, I’m ready.  I’m sure Clint is too.  We can have puppies and babies and drive corn fueled cars.  Let’s go.

This is why – post Canada – I need to live near Jenn & Mario forever.