Have I ever mentioned the dream I had a few years ago in which one of my dearest friends and I sat on a couch snuggled under a hand-crocheted afghan eating ravioli out of cans and watching cartoons on t.v.? That particular dream scene has been etched into my memory for nearly three years now. I find myself thinking about it from time to time. To me, it represents the ultimate in comfort. The life-long friendship. The hand-made blanket. The comfort food. There's a peace there that warms me, even in my memory. I'm thinking about it this morning. Obviously. I spent yesterday afternoon with a friend of mine who is from Spain. At one point we ended up talking about Saved by the Bell and how we used to watch it after school and tried to mimic the hair and clothing styles from the show. Who would have thought that separated by the Atlantic Ocean, we each shared an experience that would years later create a bond? Shall we all salute Zach Morris now? I pulled out some photographs from h...