At this very moment I am on hold with a travel agency. No, I'm not planning an exotic getaway, but I've recently become the travel guru here at work and I've been booking all kinds of business trips for colleagues and associates. Anyway, the hold-music at this travel agency is really beautiful. Everytime I call and am put on hold I find myself marveling at the simple, relaxing, beauty of the hold-music. We don't have hold-music. If we did, I'm sure our callers would be a lot more pleasant. It really is the little things that make a difference.

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So Easter was another typical holiday with my family. It took place on Saturday, keeping with the philosophy of "no one wants to drive on holidays" which is firmly held by my mom and aunt, planners of all holiday gatherings. My dad answered the door in a brightly colored Hawaiian print shirt. It took only a few minutes for the tension in the air to thicken and the nerves to be set on edge. Not because of the brightly colored Hawaiian print shirt, but in spite of it.

My favorite parts were the fork festivities, the grasshopper we found in the dilapidated backyard, and what shall henceforth be known as "the ice cube incident". Every visit to a family gathering, especially with a guest, bears such strong resemblance to Seinfeld episodes that I am positive there must be someone out there who would find humor in the whole situation.  ¶ 5:22 PM