yea well
i dream about the house i grew up in quite a bit. last night i dreamt about running around on the front lawn and of my swing set in the most childlike state for what seemed like hours. and it's sick how i remember every single detail; every rock, tree, color linoleum on the kitchen floor, even the texture of my ceiling in the family room. and it's never the terrible memories from that house that i recall, and belive me there were awful ones, only the good stuff. i pretty much love butterfly lane and i miss it terribly.