Feeling: warm & fuzzy
Listening to: Basque - Ave Maria
Reading/Watching: News

It's not until you get home that it hits you how much you've missed it.

Seven people clustered around the countertop in the kitchen, talking loudly over each other, three conversations taking place in two square feet, driving in two cars to our favorite restaurant where the waiter is afraid to interrupt us even as we constantly interrupt one another with funny stories and questions like "Who was it that wrote Barber of Seville?"

Conversations ranged from the symbolism behind the Matrix trilogy to Citizen Kane to the Beatles to Quentin Tarantino to Steve Buscemi to Latin root words to college football and the boys are having the most ridiculous argument over hair products (the boys, mind you, not the girls) while the girls discuss how one would have to look under a rock on another planet to find a guy who doesn't like football.

On the drive home, we talk about how just about every famous composer, from Bach to Brahms to Beethoven, was either crazy, arrogant, difficult with people, or a combination of the three, and then get home to mull over chocolate pie and argue about which type of vodka is for yuppies and which is for rich old connoisseurs (and yes, I had to look up how to spell that).

I forget sometimes, how much I absolutely love my family. I'm sure I'll hate them by Friday, but right now I've missed how we can overlap each other and never say silly things like "excuse me."

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