First of all, we were in India. When I say we, the person I was with varies because it kept changing every few minutes. First it was Kyle, and then it was Sandy, and then back and forth. So whatever. We took a plane, obviously, and when we landed we walked directly over to this huge hotel where it turned out that Sandy's family had a huge suite with like 50 bedrooms. Only problem was, the one I was supposed to use was already occupied, so we had to wait for this girl to wake up, who was sleeping in a cot, on top of a 3 story tub, in the bathroom, while the shower was running. Then, all of a sudden, I was back at my own house, and Kyle and I were baking cookies. For some reason we were mixing the batter in a huge, metal spaghetti strainer. Finally, the cookies were done, and we were going to take them somewhere... I think maybe to church? I don't know. Anyway, I woke up soon after. And now I would really like some chocolate chip cookies.

EDIT

Almost forgot! Before I woke up I dreamed I was puking. I've been having a lot of vomiting dreams lately. Yuck.

Sometimes I wonder if anybody else's mother says "good night" to them at least three times, in three different languages, before finally going to bed. I doubt it. Nobody's family is quite like mine. I'm not always sure if that's a good thing, but I know it isn't bad. There are worse families, and there may even be better ones, but I'm happy with mine. Believe it or not, I know people who don't say "I love you" to each other, or their kids, or any of their family members. Coming from a family like mine -- big, loud, Italian, emotional, affectionate, always overly involved in each other's lives -- I can't imagine how it would be to live any other way. I'm not even talking about dysfunctional families in broken homes; just regular people who, otherwise, seem to be completely normal. I have to wonder if that little show of affection can be healthy, and what kind of impact it could have on a child to grow up in such an emotionally stifling environment.

What is it about love that makes it so hard to express to those for whom we feel it? It doesn't take nearly as much conviction for us to "take the plunge" and tell someone exactly how much we dislike them, or how angry we are about something they have done, or how much we like something arbitrary, like their hair or something of that nature.. Why is it so hard to say the things that matter most? Why do we need to convince ourselves to say the things we know someone needs to hear? Love is so powerful, and it doesn't even need to be complicated, even though we make it that way. Love is so necessary, and without it, we're [at best] only half the people we ought to be.

Tell somebody you love that you love them. Who knows if you'll get another chance? What if you spend the rest of your life wondering what could have happened if you took that small step? Who cares if maybe they wont feel the same way, because how will you know if you don't try? Kyle told me he loved me the third week we were dating. I reciprocated. He didn't know I would feel the same way, but it didn't matter, because if he hadn't said it, where would we be now? Not getting married, not head over heels in love, not happy--albeit just a bit crazed. Take a chance.

Hug your kids today! It doesn't matter if they're older, or if you just had a fight, or if you never usually hug. Maybe they'll think you're being weird, or maybe it will be exactly what they need. Every child needs to know their parent loves them. The smallest gesture can make the biggest difference. So just hug them! Years from now when they aren't around to fight with, you'll be so glad you did.

I wont apologize for my sentimentality, so there it is. :]