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I have this feeling that if I lived in a place where rain was common I would be much more creative. Tonight is the first night of decent rain Brea has had in recent memory. As the sound of water drops hitting pavement, roofs, and metal drainage pipes began I almost immediately wanted to, almost needed to, do something creative. Or at least sit out under an overhang and just listen.

This feeling might be different (and I assume it would be to some extent) if it rained every other day. Maybe the rarity of the rain makes it something special that brings out the introspective nature in me.

I have friends who become quite depressed with even the smallest amount of grey skies and rainclouds. I can't help but feel somewhat exhilarated.

I'm heading home, to San Jose, tomorrow morning. Thanksgiving has shrunk from 20+ person gatherings with mountains of food and endless commotion, to an immediate family-sized reunion with enough quiet times to make me appreciate my family's ability to not have to fill all silence with meaningless babble.

Everything seems to be changing. From the closest of friends needing support I don't know how to give, to wanting (well, more so needing) a new job, to thoughts in my head I don't even know how to quantify (let alone begin).

I am truly thankful for all my friends. Even the ones who I rarely talk to and who probably think I don't care much about them. I am eternally thankful for so many things in my life that I become jaded. With so many things to be thankful for, each one loses a little bit of my attention until I simply think to myself, "Yeah, I'm thankful for my life." I know it seems cliche or some such negative word; but we should all really stop and think about those people and things around us that give us hope.

Here's to happiness in some form or another...