There are no birds in last year's nest (Or, I can't tell you my wish)

(major banana points if you can attribute the title quote.)  Tomorrow morning I'll be in the first French class of my super senior year of college. I suppose that's something of a big deal. (Then again, perhaps as a super senior, my opportunity to be a big deal has passed me by and I've finally broken the first day of school spell. I doubt it, though. I've never met anyone with my level of enthusiasm for office supplies) 

And I, being the ritualistic individual I am, thought this time of new beginnings, regenerations, and comings and goings (bye bye, my Brookie and Courtney Bunnies) called for some fire in the sky.

We celebrated the past and future (and most especially the present) by climbing up as high as our little house would let us go, and lighting some magical wish lanterns.

Mckay and me giving birth to our wishes.

 Here's the thing about magic: sometimes you don't wish hard enough the first time, and your lantern nearly catches your sweet elderly neighbors' house on fire.
But I wished so so sooo hard the second time, and even though I can't tell you my wish, I can tell you that it flew so high it looked just like a star.

And that I'm pretty sure it was.

And that after a few false starts (aka new years, new people, running away to Europe, etc.) I finally feel like a new beginning is in the air for me.

Which feels an awful lot like a wish come true. 

Here's to new things.

Here's to goals.

Here's to the beautiful fact that I'm not afraid anymore and I think I'm ready to start living.

cool.

Love, lanterns, and lightning,

Banana