Dear Reader

Recently, I have come to discover that certain members of my extended family are in the habit of reading what I write here. That's fine, and even encouraged, as I don't see many of the members of my extended family nearly as often as would be nice. They are (this could be you), however, reading in secret. I hear from my grandmother and my mother that they have read, are reading, or are simply aware of my blog. I thought for a moment that perhaps aunts and uncles aren't generally a part of the blogging world and are therefore unfamiliar with the custom of commenting, but Aunt Frances threw that theory all out of proportion by commenting on my last blog, which, I feel, is of some interest--especially given that Ireland is, according to my Grandma, the "old sod."

Another thing Aunt Frances did was correctly point out that my entries have been a bit bleak lately. This is true. I loved college and I miss it (less and less every day, as my friends get closer to midterms), and I have been doing very little since I got back from Thailand--this is my reason. Nonetheless, I'll try to convey a bit more happiness.

Happiness is a warm puppy.

Happiness is a washer and dryer set that kills lice and doubles as an escape pod.Happiness is a tiny first cousin once removed (and my dad and a backyard pond).

Happiness is a loose front tooth (for six-year-olds, anyway).