It was a wonderful Christmas Eve. Dinner wasn't so amazing, but there was dancing afterwards and a humerous gift exchange. I recieved a very fluffy puppy (stuffed animal) and a gorgeous heart necklace from Kris. In turn, I gave him that fountain he's been wanting and necklace with drumsticks on it from me and the family (aka: mom and I). Tim enjoyed his dancing and singing chicken (we all got some good laughs out of that stupid thing) and everyone loves the awesome blanket I bought. Oh yes, and mom bought Kris and some Calvin Klein as sort of a joke, so we'll be matching in photography style tomorrow. Anyways, all went quite well. Until something unexpected and worrying happened. I had to drive Kris home and when I came back, I decided to take out his ornament that was hanging from my rear view mirror and I was going to put it on the tree. Only when I went to get out of the car, the ornament hit the door and fell off its hook, shattering at my feet. It seems like no big deal, but I froze there, staring at the sparkling mess with a journal entry title spinning through my head: "Ornamental Fate". Kris and I had a whole long talk about the symbolism when Amy broke Justin's ornament. And now tonight I broke Kris'. I know it's silly to think about, especially since everything between us is wonderful, but it worries me none the less. I think I'm just being stupid about it, but when everything for the past four months has been perfect signs, what does this say? When is it safe to draw the line between fate and accident? I'm so sorry I ever thought to move that ornament out of my car. .J.B. Dreams.