Introducing the Click Five: Travis, Helen, Andrew, Kris, and my self. Also code-named after the hit sit-com, Friends, we have come to call each other Joey, Rachael, Ross, Chandler, and Monica; we lack a Phoebe, but we are looking. Tonight, the Click Five joined up once again for another wild and hair-raising night. Our first destination was dinner at Goldie's for a few plates of their superb wings. Over which we talked excitedly about the future when we would all be living together. We brought up everything, from prices to steak knives, all of us leaping out of our skin with eagerness. I feel a little sorry that I can't move in with them all right away and I hope I won't be missing much, but most of all I am happy that Helen and Travis will finally be away from all their troubles at home and taking care of themselves. After we ate it was off to the bowling alley, to cosmic our way through spares and strikes all the way past midnight. And in idle time of waiting, we paraded through the arcade where a few games of Skeeball got us all matching bracelettes--true to geek form. We played about five games of bowling(I sucked royally), Andrew was the dark horse of the evening, starting off the evening in dead last and then finishing two games in first. We played, we laughed, we made fun of the obnoxious 15-year-old looking girl in the next lane as she paraded around in her skimpy little outfit, too into her self to realize any reality around her. At last we parted ways, still bound together by our matching japanese beaded bracelettes. It was a long drive home--I mean, it is literally a long drive, but it also felt endless. It's not so bad when you have someone next to you discussing the awesomeness of X-Men. But when you're alone and trying to be entertained by crazy bands like Panic at the Disco, you continually wonder when the hell your street is going to appear. This is going to sound kind of weird, but being home by myself (I mean, in my room alone) doesn't have the same kind of joy that it used to. On the contrary, I feel uncomfortably alone; a concept not at all familiar to a person who takes pleasure in solitude. When I am alone on nights like these, I sleep in the middle of the bed and use up all the pillows. I go through my long nightly routine and wear my most comfortable pajamas because alone, I can look like a shlep. But there's little comfort in comfortable clothing that can't be matched by two loving arms wrapped around you. I almost feel like a child trying to grow out of a teddy bear; I can sleep alone, but having something to snuggle up to just makes the night that much more pleasant and secure. During the night I don't have anyone to fight over covers with. In the morning I don't have anyone to nudge or kick (literally) out of bed. I could never think of leaving Him. The very idea is terrifying to me. I know I'd lose it for a while, that's a given. And the thought of replacing him, of finding anyone who even came close is, well, impossible. For a girl who swore she was going to grow up single, be Miss Independent, and had a bad habit of falling into false hopes, I sure did land somewhere nice; somewhere deep and even when it's raining, I can always see the faint light of a rainbow. Sorry to be all mushy and all, but I think it is true that you know you are truly in love when, every once in a while for absolutely no reason at all, you can look at your love and suddenly feel the rush of new love all over again. Carrie