Five guys, five almosts.

You were my best friend, leaving for another state, and I was trying to joke away the pain of those last moments. You tackled me onto a recliner, hovered over me for a moment, and then walked away. I so badly wanted you to kiss me, but you didn't.

A year later. We walked out of a friend's house, and you tickled me until I retreated into my car. I was on my back across the two front seats, and you leaned in over me. I held my breath, but that only made my racing heart sound louder. I waited anxiously for you to kiss me, but you didn't.

Six months later. My head was on your lap, and you leaned over to kiss me. I saved us both. I turned my head away.

Two years later. You stopped to say goodnight, and you hesitated before moving toward me. I threw my arms around you before you could see the horror in my eyes at what was narrowly avoided.

Two weeks later. You had me by the wrists to keep me from beating you with my shoes. I would've given up the world for you to kiss me. You didn't.

This exact boxelder bug has been attached to a window at the front of our house for a week now. The window is located at the bottom of the stairs, so we all pass by this creature on a daily basis. The bug sometimes moves to another pane for a few hours, but then it comes back to this same spot. You might even be able to see the finger smudge on the glass, where my dad tried to "heat it up, to trick that stupid thing into thinking it was warm enough to fly away." I've also flicked the glass from the inside several times. On the first attempt, I got him to jump a little bit, but he hasn't flinched since.

Don't ask why we don't just open the front door, step outside, and kill it. That hadn't actually occurred to me until just now.

The last of the leaves are falling from the trees, which is my cue to get nostalgic and to start unearthing new and old traditions to pass the time in the lonely winter months. I'll admit right away that I started listening to Christmas music (Dean Martin, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, the Elf soundtrack) back in October, and I've been dying to string Christmas lights in my bedroom and office ever since. Yesterday, I walked to the local drugstore and picked up some Ghiradelli's peppermint bark squares, which will go perfectly with the soon-to-be-purchased peppermint mocha frappuccino bottles and already-running-low hot chocolate mixes.

I will also admit that knitting projects are littered all over my desk and dresser, and I've squirreled away enough back issues of Real Simple and Dwell to last me at least two months. The fuzzy socks have been cleaned and put away, and my growing family of scarves has made itself at home in every open nook and cranny in the closet.

The next step is to make time for this year's Thanksgiving get-away at my grandparents' house in Tennessee. Everything about their little cabin in the woods oozes warmth and comfort, and I cannot wait to be enveloped by the familiar sights and smells. After that, I hope to start a new tradition of attending the members-only party at the Art Institute of Chicago. I won't bore you with the details of all the girly, frilly things I plan to wear to the event; just don't be surprised if I end up on the front page of The Chicago Tribune the next day under a headline ripped from a chick flick. "Chicago's Cinderella: Who Is She? Where Did She Come From?"

That's enough prattling for now. Your turn! What are you most looking forward to about the upcoming month and the winter season?