I honestly don't even know where I left off, so we'll call whatever whatever and start with this weekend. Son fell asleep on my shoulder, Thursday and Sunday. Class assignments aren't due until Wednesday, as far as I can tell, and I successfully discovered both classrooms. But is that love? I mean, these are good things, but they don't compare to the blossom, the cherry blooms in my soul, I get when I son and I connect. So let's dig a bit deeper, eh? Plotting out a MMA curriculum with a good friend was lovely. I'd call that love. A plan for working out. A bevy of look-but-don't-touch --Yes. Cheap thrills can be love, too, or lovingly administered cheap thrills, at least. Chatting with my brother in law. A strange, Yin kind of love. I loved it. Friday night was full of love: the roar of the crowd, the sweat and racing hearts and testosterone --I love both those, all those things. (friday night I went with some friends to a live MMA event and it was amazingly exciting, if mildly disappointing.) The juxtaposition of something so personal and yet so public was interesting in the extreme, and I loved it. Thursday, what'd I do thursday? I had a beer with a friend, apologized properly for being rude the day before. Those acts aren't love, but the relationship is. Love is worth working for. I enjoyed, but didn't love "Super 8." it was Dazed and Confused + The Goonies with a splash of Aliens. I think I will love "The Avengers" But we shall see. I dreamed about my other blog last night, a genuinely happy reminder to update it. I suppose I forget how much I love writing.