The day its self was slow and rather uneventful. The night came knocking and that little tapping of invitation let in a hurricane. I went with my family to dinner and a movie. I guess you could say things went downhill at dinner. No, it was before then, when my mother showed me the letter. Then we got invited to dinner and my father said he didn't want to go. Well, he did go, we all went, and I think we were all sorry we did. The food was great, the conversations were not, and the silences were even worse. I'm the secret keeper of the family. I know everything about everyone (for the most part) and what I don't know, I quickly figure out. And this is all fine. I keep those secrets, even when I have to endure the painful arguments. Anyhow, being such, I'm not going to share tonight with any of you, just some thoughts that followed after. My head got thrown into a whirlwind and I've got ideas practically spewing from my gut. Some good, some not so good, and one just horrifically painful to accomplish. At any rate, Word is a much safer place to put these thoughts, so I'll just be going there now... On an ending note, I leave you with this: Don't ever settle. If it isn't good now, it won't be good then. Bread doesn't soften with age; it turns green and moldly, just like fickle relationships or unhappy jobs. When the bread gets moldly, don't eat it; throw it out and buy new bread. Carrie PS- Which book are you more likely to pick up: Never Eat Moldy Bread or The Metaphor of Moldy Bread Curious.