I would not, by any stretch of a cheese string, claim that I am through and done processing my time in Seattle and my departure from its rainy but dear embrace. And I do not hope to here and now offer some curt summary of that time and departure. Instead, and without significant fuss, I will collect the vague details of a few memorable meals I have shared in this super crazy month.

Breakfast with Trina Stout at Silence Heart Nest on December 5, 2009
I cannot remember if I discovered this delicious breakfast spot with Claire Fisher Scott (in Seattle for a business trip) or if I found it with Trina and took Claire there later. Regardless, back when I first lived in Wallingford, I loved Silence Heart Nest, no matter its confusing spiritual ground, and frequented the spot with Trina and sometimes Amber and AC as well. Trina and I went together for one last breakfast there, splitting two old favorite dishes—Southern Swing and Western Roundup—and discussing respective plans for South American travel.

Dinner with Charlie Ellis on December 7, 2009

I shopped, at the Capitol Hill Farmers Market on the Sunday prior, for local ingredients for a simple meal to cook with Charlie. I was excited to share a bottle of Cabernet I had "cellared" for over two years.

• Pan-fried Rib Eye Steak from Olsen Farms
• Boiled Potatoes from Olsen Farms
• Mixed Braised Greens
• Compound Butter with Parsley and Thyme
• Duck Horn 2004 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon

The steaks were delicious, and a strong recommendation for continuing to purchase local, sustainably raised beef. The meal delivered, for sure, but the wine came up just a bit short. The Duck Horn was eminently smooth, balanced, drinkable—and I suppose it stood up to the steak—but did not have much spice or spark to elevate it (at least as far as my taste for wine goes). Thank you, Charlie.

The Best Americano Ever on December 8, 2009
My car, SparkleMotion was hit-and-run the night before while parked near Charlie's condominium. The next morning, after delivering the Sparkley to the body shop, I arrived to work at Victrola Coffee and requested of Steve, as a means of coping, The Best Americano Ever. This cheery, bearded barista delivered, crafting it carefully and with only single origin espresso from Ethopia. I will miss my coffee shop, and I will be back.

Birthday Breakfast at Café Presse with Sarah on December 9, 2009
Coffee; Oeufs plat, jambon, fromage for me; Chocolate croissant for Sarah

Birthday Lunch with Eric Mattson and Afternoon Snacks at Oddfellows at December 9, 2009
Coca-Cola and pork sandwich for Eric; Hot cider and market salad for me
Molasses cookie and Buffalo Trace hot toddy while I worked there for the afternoon

28th Birthday Dinner on December 9, 2009

• Homemade flatbread, boursin and marmalade (Ross-Viles)
• Mixed greens salad with apple, avocado, chevre, nuts, etc. (Coleman)
• Shepherd's Pie (Ross-Viles)
• Bourbon Cake with Lemon Frosting (Zucker & Ross-Viles)
• Casa Lapostolle 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon
• Tamarack Cellars 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon
• Clos de los Siete 2006

I fear that I am forgetting a bottle of wine from this meal. Hrmph. Regardless, I had a lovely and relaxed evening with these dear friends. They toasted and feasted me perfectly, and all I had to do was be born and then put on a totally gorgeous tie. Oh, and I brought down my stuffed animals for Micah and Eli: I recommend highly saying "llama llama llama" while rubbing Eli's head with a stuffed version of the aforementioned camelid.

Breakfast with Charlie Matlack at Volunteer Park Cafe on December 15, 2009
We discussed life and love and the week he will come to Costa Rica. Additionally, Charlie delighted me with news that he hoped to join me in hiking Machu Picchu sometime this spring. Volunteer Park Cafe disappointed me with an overly salty quiche. I will see you soon, Charlie, and twice!

Lunch with Brooke and Jack at Java Love on December 15, 2009
This Tuesday was my final Tuesday of its sort, working and laughing and eating burritos with Brooke and Jack down on Beacon Hill. As a weekly occurrence, such has been a bright spot, something to which to look forward and certainly something to energize me. We did not take a working lunch as we usually do, bringing burritos back to Rao & Pierce, but sat at Java Love and just ate and laughed. I will miss you, buddies, and I will miss our working time together.

Neva Cherniavsky Sushi Dinner at Chez Korb on December 15, 2009
Neva visited Seattle for a few nights in the midst of her whirlwind reunion tour of the States. Liz Korb hosted a homemade sushi party for a good group of us to see and celebrate our friend. The responsibility (and prize) of finishing the final few rolls fell to my insatiable sushi appetite. I did not disappoint.

Sandwiches at Meza with Alex Wells on December 16, 2009
I have been lucky enough to share many a sandwich with Alex, who considers that food somewhat of a focus and ongoing mission in his life. Meza is a new Venezuelan restaurant on Capitol Hill, and one recommended for its pork sandwich. The Havana was excellent and definitely their flagship sandwich: braised pork, ham, caramelized onions, cheese, banana peppers and fresh aioli. I was so happy to share one last sandwich (and some sangria, and some appetizers) with this dear Claremont, Seattle and DarkHorse compatriot. And Sam and Ashley joined us later for a spot of talk and munch.

Final Cooked Dinner at 1710 #9 on December 17, 2009

I love my wine, or rather I loved it, and I love my lasagna recipe, adapted and perfected long ago in my first Seattle apartment. Living with Sarah, I was not generally the cook for dinner parties but I managed to take the reins for this, our final cooked dinner at 1710 #9. Dave and Natalie joined us, and I pulled out a favorite wine and an even more favorite wine. We started, while cooking, with the Abbot's Table: the closet-aged 2007 was far better than the 2008 bottle I drank at Thanksgiving. Well kept, well savored.

We drank the Duckhorn Merlot with dinner. Wow. I drank a bottle of this back when I was buying them (read: back when I had a full-time salary) in October 2007. I was impressed then and I was impressed again. The Merlot was velvety and rich with good fruit and spice but no strong acidity to finish. My friends may have claimed that the lasagna was even better than the wine. I'm not so sure but I do appreciate the compliment. And, yes, my lasagna is friggin' fantastic.

Of note, I used our final (and finest) serving of homemade tomato sauce from the great tomato bounty of October 2008. Sarah and Dave posited that this use of the sauce elevated the lasagna to a new level and I could not disagree.

• Antipasti of Prosciutto, Cheese, Olives and Pickled Asparagus (Ross-Viles)
• My Perfect and Decadent Two-Hour Lasagna (d'Avis, duh)
• Owen Roe 2007 Abbot's Table, Columbia Valley
• Duckhorn Vineyards 2004 Napa Valley Merlot
• Whidbeys Vintage 2007 Washington Port

We finished the night with an emergency port run by Dave and Sarah, drinking the port and then heading out for an evening of Neva-inspired dancing on Capitol Hill. Yes, this was a Thursday, I know. Yes, I'm really super great at life, I know.

I cannot believe that my list continues unflaggingly but here I am. And on we go...

Hanukkah Latkes and Roast Chicken at Chez Zucker on December 18, 2009
Dave hosted a good little (or not so little) crew at his condo for the final night of Hanukkah. Jared and Dave are old hats at frying and these offerings stood the test of potatoes past. Sarah came in with her mother's roast chicken recipe, repeated and perfected weekly for years of Sarah's childhood. The latkes were crispy and oily and great, the chicken was succulent and flavorful, the company was warm, and the menorah candles burned. I have been so happy as an honorary Jew on the holidays, living with Sarah: the food is brilliant. And I even forgot to mention the apple cider cinnamon doughnuts Sarah made for Hanukkah the weekend previous. I just keep on winning.

Brunch with Amber, AC, Zak and Autumn at Coastal Kitchen on December 19, 2009
I was deep in packing and moving (into storage) and so these old friends (and new—hi, Autumn!) were kind enough to drive the great, great distance from Fremont to Capitol Hill. We reminisced, all the way back to 2000 when I met Zak and AC, and enjoyed delicious brunch typical of Coastal Kitchen. I was particularly pleased with my prosciutto and sun-dried tomato risotto with poached eggs and toasted focaccia. Another few wonderful friends and so another heartfelt and difficult goodbye.

GRE Celebration and Departure Mourning at Poppy on December 19, 2009

My dear friend and Triumvirate cohort Faye Ziegeweid took the GRE earlier this day—well, actually, she kicked it in the keister. And I was leaving, as previously discussed. What choice did we have but to go out for another super fancy, super delicious dinner? We were six: Faye, Nick, Natalie, Dave, Sarah and I. We were wearing ties (of course), carried with us a bag of spare Value Village ties, and managed to get one around the neck of our waiter, if only briefly. She should have kept it on: the tie totally matched her shirt.

Anyway, we ordered cocktails to start—I loved my Papi Delicious of tequila, curacao, red bell pepper, jalapeño, lime and mint. All of the cocktails were great although, from shared tastes, I would say I found The Lookout and Bourbon Sour particularly good. Now, to the food! For appetizers, we enjoyed:

• Eggplant fries with sea salt and honey
• Lightly fried mussels with dill aioli
• half-shell shigoku oysters with lemon verbena ice

We ordered two meat thali and one vegetarian thali for the six of us. The amount of food was perfect, and the actual food, in its flavor, temperature, texture, and presentation, was even more perfecter. Well, the beets may have been a bit over-bitter but whatever. Seriously, whatever! Look at this menu, which I now include via image because I am lazy:

I happily avoided ordering at all, trusting to my wise foodie friends, and they did me no wrong. The scallops and short ribs were especially excellent. However delicious all the food, and however satisfying the complex array of flavors, Faye and I were not dissuaded from dessert. GRE! Departure! Of course we needed dessert:

• Dark chocolate terrine with ginger, pistachio and sesame
• Pyrat's booty (rum) ice cream
• Selection of thali-sized dessert morsels

And so were sated, and so we were wearing ties, and so we headed to Erika, Jennifer and Peter's holiday party way way out in Ballard. We drank and laughed and dispensed ties and played foosball, and I mused from time to time on the meal recently consumed and said more goodbyes to friends in Seattle.

Final Dinner in Seattle at Chez Zucker on December 22, 2009

I packed and cleaned and ran errands right up to the moment, right up to a few hours before I drove the airport. Those few final hours, that poignant smidgen of time, I spent with Dave and Sarah and Natalie over salad and chicken soup. Dave cooked down the carcasses from Hanukkah—no, not human latke-overload victims but rather chicken remains—and made a perfect, classic chicken soup. The broth was rich and flavorful but not too salty. The bread was toasty and crisp for buttering and dipping in broth.

We drank Fin du Monde beer.

Sarah and I remembered and mused a bit as to how we ended up living together for two and a half years—what fate and chance led us to this great friendship, and how such led us along to Dave as well. Natalie apparently did not have swine flu and apparently did not infect us with anything. (Yay!) We opened Patagonia bounty. I did not cry.

I said goodbye to Natalie.

Sarah, Dave, my six-months possessions and I loaded into SparkleMotion and headed down on I5. I cried. I skipped the music along from Peter, Bjorn and John to Mika and Regina Spektor as I held Sarah's hand, sitting behind me in the backseat of the car.

I hugged my two friends at the curb and set off with heart heavy and stomach full. I love you, and I'll be back for seconds: I promise.

We have been blowing between crisp, bright days and incessant rain and gray, with plenty of wind throughout either option. Natalie and I found ourselves, one afternoon, at an intersection of hundreds of crows, perched in trees and on houses and lawns and tossed up in black cawing whorls by the blustery wind. And it was bright that day and the crows were magic, but then last Thursday and Friday we had thunder and lightning and hail and that was a totally different magic. I can't say that I'm certain what you're trying to tell me, Seattle, but I think I'll just continue with my present plan. I am leaving and I might have a few matters to which to attend?

• Find proper home for Sparkle Motion, my 2006 Honda Civic
• Find proper home for beautifully framed art, especially "Stormo Serale" by Natale Addamiano
• Empty my filing cabinet of what I am sure are useless papers and then
• Get rid of my filing cabinet, couch, and other furniture
• Go home for Thanksgiving
• Buy Christmas presents
• Keep working and making money
• Convince Sarah (and me, for that matter) that everything is still going to be amazing, even if we aren't living together
• Drink Americanos
• Pack
• Turn 28 years old... or young... or just right
• Say goodbye or, rather, see you later

One can imagine, perhaps, why I have not been moving quickly on all these matters? And one can imagine that this list is not complete. What am I doing with my life? I cannot say for certain and I suppose that is why I am leaving. Winter is on its way, and everything will change with this season. Don't fall yet, leaves! Cling to your branch just a little longer and let me get in one more cup of coffee.

This story is impossible to write perfectly.

This story is a smell and a feeling and a smile and three years and a half years of big life changes and rain. Seattle has treated me well and for that I am thankful. I have experienced such fantastic joy and friendship and love and growth and food and coffee here.

But I have been sad in Seattle as well and often a bit lost. I could simply continue my life here, and such would not be disagreeable, but I would do so lacking faith and ease in the direction of my life. If you have spoken to me in the last year, you know this feeling of mine and you are familiar with my uncertainty.

I awoke this morning in a cave created by my soft, cozy bed and my cold room and the growing rain and dark outside of Seattle autumn. I knew, upon waking, that I would be purchasing a one-way plane ticket from Boston, Massachusetts to Liberia, Guanacaste, Costa Rica for January 4th, 2010. One-way, in that I am not returning to Seattle following my month working and surfing in sunny Tamarindo. I am leaving Seattle on December 22nd, eight weeks from tomorrow. This is real.

Yes, I know that is really super soon and I know that you will miss me. I will miss you, too.

The beach, and the waves, and all of Latin America beckon and what can I do? If not now, when?

I will continue from Tamarindo to Bolivia and I will live there. I will live in the country where my father, Federico Antonio d'Avis, was born and I will connect with my family there and I will find the street in Cochabamba that shares my name and that of mi abuelo, Doctor Carlos Andrés d'Avis. I will live in Chile and I will live in Argentina. I will eat salteñas. I will climb Machu Picchu, as I have dreamed of doing since I learned of its existence over two decades ago.

I will remember what it is to feel challenged in the minutiae of my daily life and I will remember how to speak Spanish well and I will find time alone in my head. I will think about where I live and where I have lived and how I want to live the rest of my life. I will think about how to find love and whether that is actually defined as someone to have babies with in the next ten years. And I will, of course, be updating Twitter and continuing work as a web developer. Honest, I asked my clients! They said I could!

And I will return... probably. I mean: totally. Yes, I will totally be back to the United States in June. I cannot promise where I will live when I return. I don't even have a flight out of Costa Rica yet so, please, be patient. I love you, and all the Malbec in Mendoza couldn't change that.

Showered, breakfasted, and happily outfitted, I spent the morning at Victrola. The Americano was delicious, as always, and one of the baristas called me 'Dapper Dan.' Silly! My name is Drew (sort of), not Dan! But I'll take the Dapper anyway. I worked on a fun project and I worked on real (read: paying) projects and I tore through my email, with a particular focus on securing a house for January in Panama. There may have been a chocolate orange cookie in there at some point for refueling.

Did I mention that I can walk now? I've been over a week without crutches but, regardless, the Victrola staff felt inspired to congratulate me on my mobility and normal walking. More sun shining on me!

And then I needed a change of scenery. So I walked down the hill to the park and, without guilt, parked myself in a bench for a lovely, leisurely phone call with a friend. Of course! Why not? It's the 9/9/09, and I'm wearing a tie! I can do whatever I want!

I proceeded to lunch at Oddfellows, ordering a ham, cheddar, and tomato panini. When the cashier asked me if I wanted a beverage, I knew I didn't need more coffee yet so was content to stick with water. But why go content when you can go big? So I had an Abbey Leffe Belgian blonde beer with my lunch, sitting in the sun by the open windows and reading up more on Panamian surf.

I suppose I kept working after the lunch, and I suppose I had another Americano? Seriously, I was actually productive, even with the beer. I was satisfied just after 5pm and closed up shop (read: closed my laptop). I headed back to the park bench for another lovely and leisurely chat, this time with my sister, Nicole, far off in Boston.

I reached home, eventually, invigorated by the walk in warm breezes. I itched for activity but didn't even stop to yearn for an impossible distance run. I changed right into my board shorts and drove to Madison Park. Ankle be damned! Setting sun, you can suck it, too! I went swimming, sharing the rather cold Lake Washington with only two others, both of whom were training in swim caps, goggles, and triathlon wetsuits. WIMPS. I totally looked more hardcore than they did, what with my shivering bare torso and numb feet. But truly, my body was exultant in exhaustion… yeah, and also super duper cold.

So I made soup. Because I'm so good at life! When you're cold, and your roommate brings home limes from Labor Day, you make coconut curry lime vegetable soup, or that's what I've heard. And I improvised some coconut curry lime chili chicken that came out bangin' as well. And now I'm in bed and full of delicious food, and I'm totally going to go to sleep and dream about high-fiving Obama and baking cookies with Jenny Lewis. But I won't remember the dreams in the morning: I'll be way too excited for my next cup of coffee.

On June 26, 2006, I arrived in Seattle and was instantly lost. Literally, I was lost. I could not find my way around the city for the life of me. Ten days prior, I had completed my final day of work at Harvey Mudd College and then spent the next week packing up all my worldly belongings. I was absolutely terrified: my house in Claremont was still unsold and I had no job. But still I drove north through San Francisco and Ashland and Hood River and finally reached my new home.

I spent my first five days in Seattle somewhat painfully, getting my bearings while at the same time trying to find an apartment. All the while, I ran marathon workouts despite no consistent place to shower or cook meals. I found a place eventually, just in time before Potlatch weekend, and Brooke proved correct in claiming that I could make a living as a web developer. And the house in Claremont sold, offering hard cash to burn through as I got my life in order. But still, what the heck was I thinking?

Well, I have a fairly strong grasp of my thoughts and feelings at the time, but such is not my topic (at least tonight). Regardless, here I am, three years later, still alive and still in Seattle. What more can I say? Everything and nothing. We'll see what comes out as this and other arbitrary anniversaries roll on through my mind.

1. My soft, spacious bed. Couches, couch beds, futons, and childhood twin beds have no chance of competing. And good sleep—it's just so key.
2. Victrola Coffee, specifically their Americanos. I've been working here all day and it feels so right. And I just might be more productive here than anywhere else in the world.
3. My roommate, Sarah, who gave me a fantastic, smiley hug upon my arrival at the apartment last night. Master chef, apprentice seamstress, super master friend.
4. Friends, in general. I am already maybe a bit stressed out about seeing everyone in the ten short days I have before heading to Lei-Out and Costa Rica for the rest of the January. My Seattle friends are amazing and numerous, and I don't do them justice.
5. Local enjoyment. I walked five minutes today to meet Charlie Matlack for lunch today. FIVE MINUTES. (Suburbia, take note.) I live in a city and I love the convenience that affords, whether social, gastronomical, or…er, groceryomical?
6. Freelance work. Seattle is my professional home base and, for better or worse, I feel more focused and productive when I'm actually here. Except for Costa Rica—I'm sure I'll be super productive there. Right.
7. Ultimate. Winter evening pickup starts tonight and winter league (Canadarm!) starts on Saturday. Seattle offers great opportunities for play and the folks in the community are not so bad either.
8. Weather. I've actually gotten a bit used to Seattle winter rain and dreariness. The extreme darkness this morning at 7:15 was a bit of a shock but I've been quite happy with today's constant 54 degrees. Is it not 20 degrees out? No? AWESOME. Also, drizzle? Not such a big deal.
9. Home. Even if our Capitol Hill apartment was not such an instant fit, and even if we have not been so speedy to decorate and, you know, put up curtains, I feel at home there. That space is my space and our space. And our apartment is where all my clothing lives, like my socks. I really like socks.
10. Um, right. Did I mention my bed?

Drew d'Avis has, a few rare times, visited Hamilton but lives more comfortably in Seattle. Drew may or may not have a queen size bed in Seattle—a bed with a mattress into which he sinks, really actually sinks. Apparently, sinking is a positive factor for actually sleeping.

And Carlos d'Avis? Carlos d'Avis never sleeps. (Kind of like Samara, but with less crawling through televisions and living in wells and more working late at night.)

Where am I? Where am I supposed to be? I am certainly, at this very moment—whether or not I can fall asleep—quite right to be in Massachusetts. Today, as previously mentioned, is Christmas Day. I belong with my family: my mother Melanie, my father Federico, my sister Nicole, and her fiancé Mark. Today is a day of joy and celebration and generosity and I cannot help but share it with these people most important. Especially when this joy and celebration and generosity takes the shape of a llama.

…Pay no attention to the previous statement. Right. Moving on.

Truly, I must admit that my heart resides in Hamilton. I must admit that for as long as I have been me, I have been Andrew. But my life, my life is not here, and I do not particularly yearn for it to be so. However rickety or uncertain matters stand, I live in Seattle—I am attached to a gloriously soft bed with certain Northwest address. I am attached to sub-par Mexican food and rainy days and organic farmers' markets and unparalleled local beer and coffee.

I promised my sister that if or when she has children, I would return to Massachusetts. How could I not be part of their lives? Nicole and Mark will be married in February in Oaxaca and, while I do not suspect B will follow A immediately, the future looms all the same. How can I weigh my choices, and the costs and benefits? I must likewise admit that my life is not perfect in Seattle, and I am not perfectly happy, but still I balk so strongly when I consider leaving the West Coast.

But you just don't understand, I plead, life is just… different out there. Um, better. The sushi. THE SUSHI.

Who can say what is better or best? Who can say whom I will meet—what changes I will see—to inform these decisions more strongly? Regardless, the sky lightens out my window and the wind continues to shake the trees. Seven o'clock nears and any chance of sleep dwindles.

And no matter my grogginess, I will soon be celebrating Christmas with my lovely family. My father will brew coffee and, no matter its inferiority to Victrola Americano, I will nurse mug after mug and smile and laugh and love my life.

Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and/or Joy and Peace and Love in whatever you believe. All my best to you and yours, truly. Unless you actually slept last night: I loathe you. Right.

I am somewhat sorry to report that this independence ended with my time at NeonGecko and, specifically, in our office at the Smith Tower. Our boss initially supplied a loaded Starbucks card for the ubiquitous caffeine depository located at the base of said tower. Every morning, around 10:30, Dave and I (and Dana, before her departure) would hitch an elevator down for our morning fix. The coffee was free to me, accessible and woke me up for productivity. Why not? Oh, right, and cute baristas calling me "honey" and "sweetie" are not a bad thing. Joy.

Eventually, our NeonGecko office inherited a Jura Capresso Impressa Z5 from the TableAndHome offices. Decent espresso and Americano were now at my fingertips, still at no cost to me save a button push and regular water refills. My coffee consumption rose sharply (OH NO) and interaction with cute baristas fell precipitously (DOUBLE OH NO). Oh, right, and I was then free to eat far too much lunch because I could caffeineate (not a real word*) my way through afternoon food coma. Joy.

Now, I've had a persistent cough and nasal congestion for a week weeks. I could not think that coffee helped this condition and I, therefore, reduced my consumption to one cup per day. I substituted herbal tea as well as green tea, its mild caffeine a pleasant bump but not an addictive rocket boost. Some days, I even eschewed coffee completely. Victory. Joy.

Except I didn't get any healthier. Still have not.

And this last Monday morning, and every morning since, I've willingly, happily, gone back to spending my own hard-earned dollar dollar bills on a daily fix. On what wind did change fly into my life?

The answers are bus routes and art. Still confused? I'll explain more soon…

*"Verbing weirds language."