"Do you want a fortune cookie?" my ten-year-old housemate asked this evening, after we were both already in our pajamas. (Her father is going snowboarding tomorrow--Colorado, don't you know--and had picked up Chinese takeout for his trip's lunch.) "Sure," I said. "I can brush my teeth again."

When I read mine out, she said, "What if you meet someone while you're in New York?" (I leave for the monastery in the morning.)

"Maybe I already have!" I replied.

"Then you might not come back here at all!" she said. (She's been hoping all day that our April snowstorm will call off my whole trip.)

I reassured her that that's not how things are going to go, even if the fortune were to turn out to be true. (And who can say? Sunday's date seems to be on there twice. Who can say.)

Look at this! Yesterday, I walked downtown in shirtsleeves. And if all goes well, this time tomorrow I will be asleep somewhere where the temperatures will have been in the 60s all day. Only a car ride, a bus ride, a plane ride, and two more bus rides to go. (And the night's sleep I'm almost too excited to make myself try for.)