my kitchen is a black hole.

and i’m about to put caution tape around it.

like a crime scene.

if you’ve been to my townhouse, then you know the kitchen is not super big.

in fact, it’s not big at all.

room enough to do whatca gotta do, but certainly without enough adequate counter space to bake a 7-tier wedding cake.

which i probably wouldn’t ever do anyway, so i guess i’m in the clear.

to put it in brutal, but appreciated, context, my kitchen is about half the size of my freshman dorm room.

and that a’int saying a whole lot about my freshman dorm room.

[except for the fact that it was like a utopia where Peanut and i lived with our family of fruit flies, aptly named The Wilsons. and ignoring the fact that it was right next to the projects, a concept which never seemed to phase our parents as they dropped us off and kicked it into nearly-empty-nesting overdrive.]

of all the 8 rooms in my townhouse, the kitchen is by far the smallest.

with the exception of the bathroom which is really more of a doll-house closet with plumbing.

but for reasons unbeknownst to me, and anyone else in.the.entire.world., the kitchen is where it all goes down.

usually dance parties.

always dance parties.

sometimes the kind that wake up the neighbor. (and definitely the kind that wake up the neighbor when certain best friends are in town and decide it’s a stellar idea to sing celine dion at an unforgivable level at 4 o’clock in the morning . . . yes, apologies were made the next day. like a friggin’ dog with my tail between my legs. my neighbor still loves me, though. i think.)

sometimes i walk downstairs in the morning and it looks like a nuke exploded in the kitchen.

and sometimes my head feels the same way.

and sometimes (like a day ago), i find a plethora of photos which were taken from inside the kitchen that rival the club scene in hollywood.

and then i wrestle with the notion of “to delete or not to delete” . . .

and then i ask myself why i think my kitchen is so cool. repeatedly.

and then i resign to the fact that some things are just left unexplained.

party in the kitchen.

all are welcome.

sunglasses are optional.