"This cake is too important to me."

In ten years, where do I see myself?

Married to Nicholas Cage, and having his babies, of course.

Wait. 

Actually, that came out a little wrong. 

I am going to explain myself now. 

On Christmas Eve, I needed a gift for a White Elephant exchange that my family had planned. I picked up this movie without even really thinking about it. New Year's Eve was a blur... something to do with a chest cold that made me feel like my lungs were closing for good. Also I went to bed at ten (party animal UP. IN. HERE.). I missed the entire charade, but that ended up being okay. I kept my present (Does this make me selfish?), and then, I watched it. And after that, I seriously reevaluated my life. Remember all of those times I wrote about a career, moving to New York City, curating for a museum, writing about it all, and becoming Carrie Bradshaw?

Well, I don't exactly want any of it anymore.

Some time within the last three weeks, a switch went off. I can pinpoint that exact "sometime", see the snapshot of that moment, clear as day. I wish that I could tell you all about it, but, I can't. Because it is too good. Too fantastic, and wonderful. And, like a birthday candle whose wish must never be spoken aloud, it will remain a secret. But you'd better believe that I wished on all twenty-one of my candles this past December!

Today, I was talking with a boy. He is a very nice boy. Very nice, indeed. He looks fantastic in cardigans, (fantastic in anything, really) and this afternoon, he expressed open mindedness to bow-ties (I know.). Anyway, in the car, we were talking about things we want out of life... it was a heavy topic, but a valid conversation. His answer was not the same as mine, though it may have been not three weeks ago. 

I gathered my thoughts, made new ones all together, and came to the conclusion that happiness of the J. Crew variety can only get me so far.

I want Jack Campbell's foyer bombardment in hot pursuit of chocolate cake, and to laugh so hard that said cake comes out of my nose. I want it in a small house with trees lining the sides of the street. I want tiny humans. Lots of them. And I want it all forever.

What do you do when the world cooperates, and you don't know that you want it to anymore?