I really was going to leave, I swear!
I threw a party for the occasion.
It was a party complete with folk music, Afro-Carribbean drummers, DJ Atila the HUNk, libations, potluck provisions and a Pennsylvania cake thrown together in between packing bits of my life into boxes.
Pittsburgh to Philadelphia. That was the plan.
The cake disappeared, and the party quelled my desire to leave. I made a call and stopped the moving truck the day before I was scheduled to depart. No offense Philly. I still love you, but it wasn’t the time.
The party was very pleased with my decision and celebrated quite thoroughly. I became known as “that girl who had a going away party and didn’t leave.” Is this a thing? People acted as though this were a common occurrence.
It just happened.
(Thanks Keith for helping to document the event)