Overfloweth.

I just spent the last couple of hours at the new Micu homestead--the Micu's, a family of 9, with baby number 8 on the way, had just recently found a place out in the country. I went over to check out their abode. It is every adventurous child's dream: barn (complete with clubhouse), pool, a garden, tire swing and big tree, geese, lake, paddleboat and an island. I was beside myself. It was so excitingly beautiful that when I saw Paul and Amy, I excitedly exclaimed to them, "I could get married here!"

It was the first thought in my mind and I didn't even get a chance to reason with myself as to why I shouldn't say that outloud. There were also other young men present and they looked at me and laughed. Paul laughed, too.

I mean, I meant what I said, but I felt strangely awkward because (a) I'm jumping the gun--the possibility of me even dating someone anytime soon seems to be lightyears away and (b) who says that? Other people probably would say, "Oh, what a beautiful home you have."

My voice inflection suggested that I was speaking like I was constipated or something. It was like, I wanted to say it, but my body and my heart, so often not in sync, had some weird chemical reaction that tried to create a filter to hold me back from saying what I said. But, didn't really work. Then I felt like a popped balloon. Or better yet, maybe a deflated lifeboat and much like the Titanic, I was sinking fast into the awkward abyss, so I grabbed the closest thing in front of me to try to keep myself afloat: Sarah Micu. I just...grabbed her, bear hugged her skinny little frame. And the poor girl, startled, started screaming "GET OFF ME!" I tried to save face by saying that I just wanted to hug her, to which she replied, in the way only 12 year olds can say it, "You're so weird."

I know, Sarah, I know.