Just when you have given up all hope, here I am! Where? Here, at my desk in our new apartment -- a place that deserves the title of "home," the object of a mission I have assigned myself to for over three years now. The apartment is in the sort of Victorian building easily found in Seattle. It has smooth, wooden floors and a picture rail from which we will hang pictures. The kitchen is small, but the appliances new. The space is bright and warm. The apartment sits high, on the third floor in a building atop Capitol Hill, which is one of Seattle's highest points. I am a couple of blocks from a district known as "Millionaire's Row" as well as the Volunteer Park Conservatory. But I am also walking distance to the co-op, a few independent movie theaters and a branch of the public library. When I look out of this Craftsman-styled window, I see a residential street and wide strips of grass. Beyond the trees rest the snowy Cascades. Is it snowy here in Seattle this January? Not a bit -- over the past few days the temperature has hovered around 50 degrees. It has been fairly sunny, too, I must add.

Is it an adequate substitute for Berlin? No. But what city in America is?
Am I better employed now than I was in Europe? Not really.
Do I feel the tiniest bit caged?
Does the jealousy of my youthful romps rot through the surface of my soul? Yeah, it does.

But nothing means that I can't again cave in to my wanderlust. For now I ought to accept some responsibility and put my education to "practical" use (if I can manage). There are some things that must be tended to.

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