One day in the middle of finals, I was out of groceries and didn’t have time for a grocery store run. Because of course you know that taking 15 minutes out of my day to buy food would have meant I would fail all my exams, never graduate from college, never go on to law school, and then never have the opportunity to start this blog. It’s a delicate house of cards I live in.

There were a few things in the kitchen. Wanna guess? Go ahead, I’ll wait. Okay ready, I’ll tell you. I had (1) grape tomatoes, (2) red onions, (3) black olives, (4) green olives, and (5) a box of tri-color rotini. Why I had never thought of it before, I don’t know. But, I put all of them together and created the most magnificent pasta of my life. It was delicious. It was simple. It was healthy. It was cheap. I was in love and desperately hoped this pasta would be in my live forever.

Over the years I have made it dozens of times. I cooked it at least once a week in college. I cooked it when I was visiting my parents. I cooked it for friends. I cooked it for family. I cooked it for others and then I ate it myself. (Don’t hate me. It’s just the way I do business.) I’ve added hearts of palm. I’ve added nuts. I’ve changed the spices. But, I always go back to the original.

But wait, there’s more to my love story. At some point, I forgot about my little pasta dish. I’m not sure I made it a single time during my D.C. era. But, we’ve since reunited. I’ve begged forgiveness. I’ve added it to the menu several times. I’ve promised to never abandon it again. I’ve been forgiven.

(You may think me a tad dramatic. But, I’ve got a little story to tell you that will illustrate I am not the only dramatic individual living in my apartment. In fact, I may not even be the most dramatic. But, I’ll save that for another day.)