"So you're basically leaving for Spain now, aren't you?"
"Yeah, actually. Only 10 days and then I'm off. It hasn't really hit met yet, to be honest."
"That's understandable. But you'd better keep me updated. With pictures. Of what you eat."
"...I mean, obviously."
I spent about two hours at Para Coffee with Rudhdi yesterday. We chatted about anything and everything, catching up after a grueling week of finals [which would explain the abnormally long stretch of time since I last baked something], reveling in the relief of another semester ending [though we both refuse to believe that undergrad is halfway over], discussing life, classes, people, and summer plans, small coffee in her hand and an iced Americano in mine.
It's odd to think that just last week I was huddled in my favorite armchair at Starbucks [yes, I have a favorite] with my laptop on one knee and Das Capital sprawled open on the other, highlighter behind my ear, and eyes frantically scanning the pages, hoping that Marx's theory on communism would miraculously seep into my overworked brain.
But, somehow, I made through five final exams and a 10-page paper, and had a two hour coffee date to show for it. A wonderful one, at that [I always love my dates with Rudhdi, when neither of us are stressed]. But at the same time, somewhat surreal. Surreal in the sense that four month seem to have gone by so fast; that before I know it I'll be in another country [yes, my DSLR will be going to every restaurant with me, so no worries there, Roods]; that after only a few weeks I'll be back here, interning and working part-time; that the three months between now and the beginning of next semester seem so far, and yet so close.
Time really does seem to fly by as you get older.
I used to be torn about whether that was a good thing or not.
But for now, I'm going to table the discussion, and focus on the present.
Today's my last day at the apartment [at least for the next 6 weeks or so], and so I've been packing and cleaning since I've been up. Once I had my suitcase prepared and PS3 unplugged and stowed in my car, I realized that I really needed to clean out the fridge.
[The last thing I want is to come back in July and find that some bizarre species of mold has raged war on my kitchen.]
There were a few things left, produce that I've put in a brown bag and plan on taking home with me [I smell goat cheese and Swiss chard flatbread for dinner...], but I knew there was something that needed to be done.
I missed Mother's Day this past weekend, as I was here on campus studying for finals, but had promised my mom that I'd bake her something to make up for it. I actually had no idea what I was going to bake, but knew that I wanted to try something different. And then I saw it: 4 gala apples, sitting in my fridge, awaiting their fate. So what was I going to do?
Bake an apple cake, obviously.
I suppose it's a bit of a fall cake, what with the cinnamon and nutmeg, but I'm not really too concerned. Besides, no one says "no" to an apple cake.
I'll be heading out in the next 10-15 minutes, so I've put the cake on a plate and covered it, loosely, with some plastic wrap. It should be totally fine in the car, and the ride's only about an hour and a half, so it won't be too stressful for the cake. Once I'm home, I may prepare a rum sugar sauce to pour on top, but that's still to be determined. I suppose I have an hour and a half to decide.
In any case, hopefully mom will enjoy her Mother's Day cake, even if it is a few days late!