My housemates are far too cute. They are laughing (in the room next to mine) far too loudly. They call each other cutie, even in writing. I can't stand it. They have fun. I don't understand.

Tonight i made rococo nachos for dinner at my parents' house, because my mother was busy packing her stuff in small, meticulously labelled containers. She actually wanted to buy, fill out, stamp and address cards for every birthday and anniversary that she will miss while she's gone (a month, for now). I have been remembering that i enjoy cooking. I have been remembering color. Maybe it's spring?

My mother is leaving early in the morning, to walk and walk. It's the first big thing she's done for herself since as almost a child herself, she became a mother.