What does it take? Sometimes, a happy song.

Sometimes, a sad song.

Perhaps I'll consider an old photograph of me and Whit, 2001 say.

And then I'll marvel at a new photograph of us, thanks to Dave for the capture.

I'll think about breakfast with Faye and I'll think about my swim yesterday and the cool lake water yet to come in New Hampshire. Okay, I can do this.

Sucre was gorgeous and peaceful and just right. I stayed in a little hotel called Hostal de Su Merced and drank fresh orange and carrot juice every morning at breakfast. I worked from my hotel room and from cafes. I wandered the lovely city and met two new friends from New York City.

I ate well in Sucre. El Huerto offered a peaceful courtyard dining experience and perfect renditions of typical Bolivian dishes—I had Picante de Pollo. La Taverne was a welcome dining contrast, being the restaurant run by l'Alliance Française. For 42 Bs ($6), I was nearly defeated by a veritable tower of filet mignon wrapped in bacon, with mushroom and wine sauce.

At the other end of the spectrum, at least by price standards in Bolivia, were Pension el Marfil and Siete Lunares. I happened upon the pension one day when I was quite hungry and yearning a bit for the Cochabamba family lunches of soup and segundo. For 12 Bs, I received soup and a drink, then rice, potato, beet salad, steak and a fried egg. Naturally.

Still, one of my favorite lunches in Sucre was even simpler. Chorizo. Sausage... and some bread and salad and a passion fruit soda. So greasy, so authentic, so good. Siete Lunares is particularly well known for their chorizo and they did not disappoint at all. Furthermore, they sit just outside the market, so I completed the meal with a fresh chirimoya juice from within. Yum.

Sucre has an interesting balance of culture and people. Founded by Spain in 1538, Ciudad de la Plata de la Nueva Plata was the original home of the rich and educated who moved away from the mines in Potosí. The city was eventually renamed for revolutionary hero Antonio José de Sucre and served as the home of Bolivian independence. In fact, Sucre is the constitutional capital of Bolivia, although no significant business is done there now. Still, the combination of universities, historical significance, natural and architectural beauty, and Bolivian prices draws in a fair number of foreign students and travelers. Having lived only in Santa Cruz and Cochabamba prior, I was surprised by the volume of gringos.

But no doubt existed that I was still in Bolivia. To wit, I was lucky to be in Sucre when the entire youth population turned out to celebrate the arrival of Don Bosco's remains—he is venerated for having revolutionized the education system in South America. People go NUTS.

Yes, that is a glass coffin. And, no, I have never seen so many people in a church.

I visited La Casa de la Libertad and was offended by (1) the guide's repetition of everything in Spanish and English and (2) his tendency to touch, repeatedly and consistently, all the historical artifacts. Still, here was the the birth of the nation!

I worked well in Sucre, whether in my hotel room or on Joyride Cafe's ("No solo para gringos") faster connection... or with no connection at all, above the city at Cafe Gourmet La Mirador, off La Recoleta. I sat outside in an uncomfortable wooden folding chair at a thick slab of rock (also known as a table) and ordered espresso and licuados and eventually beer. I considered the city and I pecked away at code on my laptop.

I won at life. Ahhh...

My dear, dear friend Brooke Riggio worked as the Engineering System Administrator for three years after he graduated from Mudd in 2001. I graduated from Mudd in 2004 and then up into the same professional position. Brooke moved to Seattle and I missed him, he who was ever-present in my Claremont life.

But before Brooke really truly left our tiny office, down in the basement off the ECF, I suppose he wanted to pass on a bit of encouragement. And so there it was, and there it stayed stuck to my monitor as a reminder over the two years I spent down there:

I did my best to follow his advice, to remember my value and purpose, and I was thankful for Brooke's direction. I did a good job as the Engineering SysAdmin, for sure, and I truly enjoyed helping people while I was there. I left Claremont for Seattle in 2006, and I left that job, and I again followed Brooke. I joined him in consulting in Seattle and he shepherded me through this transition.

I can say, with some certainty, that without Brooke I would not be so happy and independent and successful in this life as I am today. Thank you, friend. Many of you others have likewise supported me and I give my thanks to you as well. So, always remember:

• You rock
• You can totally do this job
• You're here to help
• You're loved
• You Rock!

I may not have followed Brooke once I got up to Seattle—his was the way of wife and children and mine was of crippling lack of purpose and eventual departure for southern adventures—but he will always be a hero and an inspiration. Brooke, you rock, and I love you, too.

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.

DREW DOPE! I put together a fun little website called POPE FACT. If you don't get it, don't worry—the website is an online version of a real-life game involving writing fake tattoos on people's knuckles. The launch fell on, and was in honor of, the birthday of Molly Hallweaver, one of the ladies who first introduced me to POPE FACT at Lake Tahoe.

I designed and launched a new version of the Lei-Out Beach Ultimate website. Joaq said it is the prettiest version to date, so that's worth something. Chalk up one win for gorgeous photographs found via Creative Commons search on Flickr. And, of course, the new Lei-Out website is running on my most favorite CMS to date, Drupal.

I have begun maintaining my Drupal installations on Github, with repositories for Drupal 6 core and Drupal 6 optional modules and themes. Now, when I need to do an update on my dozens of Drupal websites, I install the updates on my master, commit and push from there, and then pull the changes down on all the rest of the sites. Commit, push, and pull! So easy!

Whit hit it big, where "it" is defined as The Internet, this month with his video, "Drunkest Guy Ever: Larry Goes to the Market." Have a look at the video then go read his blog post, What! No Beer?, describing his creative process and the video's success, currently sitting at 716,000+ views on Youtube. Did I mention that he got linked on Huffington Post and BoingBoing? Yeah, seriously, I know: I need to redesign Whit's blog so that its features and appearance are consummate with his success.

Whit and I are trying, in a nutshell, to figure out how to promote efficiently and effectively our friends. Clearly, this goal cannot be accomplished simply by telling someone to get on Twitter. Expect more on this subject from us over the next year. For now, ON A COMPLETELY UNRELATED NOTE, you should go watch our friend Brittney's video application to The Big Trip.

Oh, and I dressed up as Zombie Abraham Lincoln for Halloween. Naturally.

EDIT
Oh, and I forgot to mention another website I launched this autumn, Nicole d'Avis at Bellalogica. This beautiful site is for my beautiful sister—a place for her to write and just be amazing, not that she needs a specific place for that. Did I mention that she got married to a wonderful man, Mark, and that they bought a house? It's good to have a big sister who is super good at life.

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.

I don't quite know what to say. Life here is both focused and calm. We each have our daily rhythms and goals and coast happily along through the breezy morning and scorching afternoons and balmy evenings. I am working—I am billing hours—but at any point could skip off to enjoy the beach a bit more. I am not attempting to force these weeks into any strict definition of vacation or working or working vacation. I am just living.

I contrast the billed minutes on minutiae of CSS with last night, having returned from una fiesta tipica en Santa Cruz, Guanacaste, when I needed minutes lost in the stars. I strolled on the dark path to the beach, past the log that has been smoldering and burning for three days now, and then lay alone, on my back on the warm sand as the wind swept over me. I recalled fondly a high school friend having admonished me for not knowing the constellations—how else could I have expected to impress her on that starry hill? And I nearly slipped into sleep, at peace with the world and thinking of all the family and friends and love in my life.

¿Como se dice, "I am happy?"

Se puede decirlo sin palabra, con una sonrisa en el sol.

The time is now 6:46 AM.

I will be working today, and every weekday, from this patio. I will rise with the sun, as I have today, because I am not here to sleep away the day. I will run in the morning, or join my friends surfing or at Spanish lessons, and then return to focus on these professional pursuits I have grown to love. I will still explore—don't worry—and I will enjoy this beautiful country. Apparently, on Thursday night, "enjoy" will be defined as trying the local palm wine that induces temporary blindness. Brilliant. Or, anti-brilliant, I guess.

Truly, I hope to find balance and peace, not in some untenable vacation lifestyle but in a relaxed rhythm of work and play. And I wonder that I have not found such a rhythm in Seattle, in these last four months of my new freelance life, and maybe worry that I have not even particularly considered such a rhythm reasonable. But then I get distracted by some birdcall, or by the warm breeze rustling the palm fronds, and I trust in the possibility of peace.

The time is now 6:57 AM.

Believing in peace and love, and wishing you a Happy President Barack Obama Day, I am Carlos Andrés d'Avis, signing off from Tamarindo. Que tengan buen día, mis queridos.

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?

Also, I cut my hair.