I've always been tempted to write a journal entry on here, but I guess i've never had anything interesting to write about. The other night I was laying in bed thinking about what 'home' really is. To me, it isn't really a place or thing, but more of a feeling. I'm not trying to imply that i have a bad home, becasue I'm truely lucky for the family i have. I'm babling away from my point, but if someone were to ask me what home is to me, this is what i would say:

- hearing slow dancing in a burning room by john mayer or don't make me wait by this world fair
- the music playing in the opening scene of the movie 'just friends'
-a hug from my dad, at any place, any time.
- the waves crashing on a beach.
- the smell of old orchard beach, ME.
- peach tea!
- and the rain.