Today, my family and I went on a hike in the hills at Lake Chabot Regional Park. We hiked and went camping often when my brother and I were little.

It felt quite good spending all of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with just my family, repeating the things we used to do. In the past decade, I spent most of the holidays with my significant others instead of with family, and I always felt guilty...

I know that my family is a collection of the most important and valuable people in my life. Family always reminds me of who I really am... and that who I really am is loved by those who made me most of who I am.

General holiday warmth and cheer, my doting mom, hearing about other people's times with their families, LOTR, eating too much Chinese food, and a bunch of other random things have somehow had a combined effect on me... I've suddenly become a part of the masses of women around my age, who have within their top two or three goals of the moment finding an emotionally stable, healthy dude with a good sack o' seeds, and hopefully other nice assets, to help them father their bonny children.

Sometime last Sunday, I finally came to terms with the fact that, as a human being with ovaries, the greatest contribution and accomplishment I am most likely going to make is bearing offspring.

While waiting to discover any superpower(s) or my marketable talent(s), the one(s) I could turn into a fulfilling career, I will accept and roll with the notion that I am limited to some degree because I am woman... and that there is probably nothing more significant that I could do that a man couldn't also do, and do better, than give birth.

So... hopefully, in about 30 years, I'll still have a family, my own children, to love me and to remind me of who I am, and vice versa...