Oh, Mr. Sandman...

I used to daydream at night. I would sit by the lake at two, three in the morning, jeans rolled up, dipping my bare toes into the water, watching the rippling effect. I would stare up at the night sky and out at the choppy black center of the lake and I would dream. I would dream of big cities, sky scrapers, taxis, metropolitan boys...I imagined some loft downtown, glitz, and glamour. I dreamed of getting out of the country, escaping the small town frame of mind.

Ten years later, I lounge on my leather sofa staring up at my vaulted ceiling, or I gaze out the window of a high rise club, sipping my mojito in my little black dress, staring at the traffic below and I dream. I dream of tall, green mountains surrounding a calm lake and the most peace I've ever known. I dream of hospitality, of love worth fighting for, of the strongest family ties. I dream of home.