Friday, September 28, 2007

Clinton's baby bonus

Candidates say the darndest things.

If Hillary Clinton is elected president, she'd like the government to give a $5000 "baby bond" to every child born in the U.S. to help pay for college or for buying a home.

According to the article, 4 million children are born here every year.

That's $20,000,000,000. Each year.

Compliments of all us babies who had to make money the old-fashioned way by earning it. And we still haven't figured out how the hell we're going to cover Social Security benefits beyond 2017.

I'm all for helping out people who really need it. But $5,000 just for being born?

The United States has always been the place where you could start with nothing and if you work hard and make good decisions, you could have everything.

But in Hillary's world, nobody starts with nothing any more.

How depressing is that?
I am listening to: Modest Mouse - Missed the Boat
I am reading: HP7
And I am: Ready to get back to work

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Technology is a dirty little bitch

Best Buy Trip #1: Purchase new printer because parents' old printer is being a dirty little bitch and doesn't work any more.

Discover fancy schmancy new printer won't work with Windows Millenium Edition.

Best Buy Trip #2: Purchase Windows XP Home Edition.

Install new operating system. Discover new operating system is a dirty little bitch and won't support internal modem.

"Go to blahmodems-dot-com to download current drivers."

Well if the dirty little bitch of a modem was working, we could do that couldn't we?

Drive to Panera for wireless in hopes of downloading drivers to Mac.

"Our wireless is down. It could be down for just a few minutes or the whole night," says the dirty little bitch behind the counter.

Best Buy Trip #3: Explain modem situation to Geek. Geek suggests purchasing new modem for $40. Purchase new modem.

Tear apart computer, attempt to insert new modem card. Discover new modem card is a dirty little bitch and is too big.

Best Buy Trip #4: Take too big modem card and computer to Geeks for help. Get ridiculed by Geeks for bringing in 'antique' computer. Realize receipt for too big modem is at home. Get external/usb modem.

Install new new modem. Install new printer. Connect to Internet. Rejoice loudly whilst cursing Microsoft, Best Buy and Geeks - the lot of them, dirty little bitches.

Best Buy Trip #5: Return too big modem.
I am listening to: Plain White T's - All That We Needed
I am reading: HP 6
And I am: Tired of technology

Monday, September 24, 2007


It’s Sunday night and she’s sitting propped up against two pillows in her old bedroom.

Of course it’s very different now. But if she closes her eyes, it is the way it used to be.
The drums start slow and hesitant. Then they grow stronger, more powerful. When the wind catches them it's even louder. It's the marching band practicing at her old high school across the street.

She opens her eyes and smiles. Sage green walls and carpet. The flowery, thick comforter over her on the bed under one window.

A blue electric typewriter sitting on the desk in the corner under the other window.

A wall of books to the left in the closet, organized alphabetically. Judy Blume. Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Madeline L’Engle. Laura Ingalls Wilder.

There’s a stereo on the dresser flanked by two big speakers on the floor. A smoky gray lid over the turntable. The click click click sound of the 8-track player finding the next set of songs. And the big beveled tuner dial - heavy and hesitating as it moves from country to rock to pop.

She’s on her stomach across the bed reading a new album cover and singing along with the songs. The Police. Devo. Queen. Prince. Bob Seger.

The phone rings soft in the corner and it’s Dannette or Lisa or Amy or Denise. Later, in high school, it’s boys – David or Joe or John.
There’s always a book on the nightstand. Stephen King for some unfathomable reason.

More books on the shelf under the nightstand. Maybe a diary hidden behind.

In the drawer, small wooden 3-dimensional puzzles she did as a kid. The classic cube. A sphere. And the impossible elephant.
She’s on her back under a boy named Jamie. Her family is away for the day and she’s kissing – serious kissing – for the First Time Ever. Led Zeppelin comes on the radio and it’s a perfectly perfect moment that will last forever.

Or maybe it’s just the memory that will last forever because the boy (who couldn’t be farther from perfect) doesn’t make it much beyond that hot, sweaty, silly afternoon.
Now it’s almost midnight.

There’s a train whistle blowing. It’s urgent yet big and comforty since it’s the same train that rolls through every night around this time.

She’ll sleep well here tonight. She always does.
I am listening to: Led Zeppelin – D’Yer Mak’er
I am reading: HP 6
And I am: Home

Friday, September 21, 2007

Rudy it is then

Speaking of silly quizzes, here's something interesting: Select a Candidate.

Confession: I like this survey straight out of the gate. For 'Age' I get to choose 36 - 40, which makes me feel younger for some reason.

Answer a few questions and it lets you know which candidate shares your views on the war in Iraq, immigration, tax cuts, universal health care, gay marriage, abortion, blah.

For me, Rudy gets the landslide: 34 points. Apparently I agree with him on:

Stem-Cell Research
Health Care
Social Security
Death Penalty

Next: Democratic candidate Bill Richardson with 28 points. Joe Biden, another Democrat, gets 26 points.
So where's your man Barack in all of this, Hed?

He scored 20. Along with Clinton and Kucinich. Bleh.

The thing is, I've love-love-loved Rudy ever since seeing him speak at Benedictine University back in 2002. But I'm not sure he's electable.

As for Barack, I like his refreshing personality and charisma, but I don't like where he stands on the majority of issues.

Confession II: If Michael Douglas' character in The American President were running, I'd vote for him in a heartbeat. Twisted, yes. Also a sad, sad commentary on our current candidates when my favorite is a fictional character from a movie back in 1995.
Predictions: I'm going with Giuliani for the Republican nominee. Not that I'm a conspiracy theorist, but I suspect a well-timed U.S. terrorist attack in 2008 gives him the nostalgic Republican edge in the election. The one-two punch is complete when Clinton, the Democratic nominee, self-implodes with a juicy, lesbian-related October surprise. Obama gets a little less green and looks good for a re-run in 2012.

Based on this quiz, who's your candidate? And were you surprised?
I am listening to: The Fray - All At Once
I am reading: HP6
And I am: Still waiting for Comcast

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Giving good interview

During that brief in-between-jobs malaise, I read tons of articles about job hunting.

Monster. CareerBuilder. Yahoo.

All of them - completely worthless.

So here are a handful of helpful interview tips from someone who recently broke the land speed record for getting fired/hired.

Don’t Sweat Your Pants: Dealing with Nervousness

I don’t get nervous interviewing because of Trivial Pursuit.

Growing up, we lived in a tight-knit, game-playing neighborhood. Some of my best memories are of playing Trivial Pursuit on the sun porch with my neighbors – adults and kids – on summer afternoons.

Interviewing is like playing Trivial Pursuit, only better, since every question will be related to your favorite pie category (I always liked green - Science & Nature - for some reason. Makes no sense.)

If you know your topic and have done just a little homework, it’s easy enough to get all the answers right and win the job.

“But Hedy, I sucked at Trivial Pursuit. Monopoly was my game.”

Real estate? Seriously? How’s that working out for you these days?
Okay, sorry, here’s a better analogy.

Remember the first time you got laid? With someone other than your hand?

Unless you were some kind of sexual savant, it didn’t go very well, did it?

Of course you were nervous. You had no hands-on experience. But you reallyreallyreallyreally wanted it. And seriously, who performs well in the back seat of the family Buick with your head smashed against a door handle?

Now, think about the next time you had sex – comfortably situated on the bed of your girlfriend’s out-of-town parents with the soundtrack from Bladerunner playing.

Better, yes?

The more you do something, the better you get at it, right?

So get out there and interview.

If you’re nervous about interviewing, make a point to do it at least once per quarter. Even if you’re not looking for a new gig. Actually, it’s better if you’re NOT looking for a new job because then there’s no reason to feel pressure.

Interviewing when you don’t need a job keeps you sharp. It helps with networking. And it does wonders for that sweating-through-your-shirt-nearly-shitting-your-pants feeling that comes with the high pressure of finding a new job.
Tip: Wash your hands in warm water rather than cold to eliminate sweaty palms. I have no idea where I learned that but trust me, it works.
Getting Good

Eventually, all of us neighbors got good at Trivial Pursuit because we played enough to memorize the answers. If you interview often, you’ll get good at answering the standard questions.

Where do you want to be in five years?

Wrong: “Drunk and naked on a beach in St. Martin?”

Right: “Here. Working here and making a difference for [insert company name].”

Regardless of the question – always make the answer about them and their business, not about you and your goals.

If you say “In five years I’d like to be a senior-level blah blah with a team of minions, making blah blah” they’ll think you’re nothing but a salary-chasing job-hopper and show you the door.
Tip: Look good. Get a haircut. If you need to buy a new shirt or suit to make yourself feel better, do it. However, DO NOT BUY NEW SHOES. A potential employer will not appreciate you doing a Passion of the Mel thing, bleeding on their carpet because of blisters from bad shoes. Trust me on this one.
Do Your Homework

It’s never been easier to learn about the company where you’d like to work. Of course you’ll want to check out their web site – they’ll expect that.

But what they won’t expect is that you’ve Googled key words from their web site to read articles published about the company, their industry, their competition, and the key people who’ve made their business successful.

Doing your homework also helps you ask well thought out questions. If you really want this job, you’ll have a few questions of your own. Interviews are always better when it becomes more of a conversation. It gets the interviewer thinking about actually having you in that position and what it would be like.

Of course, don’t over do it with the questions. Two employers ago, we brought in a woman to interview for a marketing position.

She asked all the questions. We couldn’t get a word in edgewise and we knew nothing about her when she left.

And then she wondered why we didn’t hire her.
The Classic Three-Way: Interviewing with Multiple People at the Same Time

Unless you're Cameron Crowe losing your virginity to three hot, stoned groupies in the movie Almost Famous, your first time is usually one-on-one. It's the same with interviews.

If you do well in enough first interviews eventually you get a shot at the big time: The Second Interview.

This is your time to really shine and show 'em everything you've got. The people interviewing you might start out asking you questions one at a time, but eventually they'll be pounding you simultaneously from all sides. Stay cool. Stay focused on your goal and give them exactly what they want. You'll quickly figure out who's the lead decision-maker of the group - focus most of your attention on him. But it's also important to make sure you're paying attention to the dude sitting quietly in the corner waiting for his shot at you. Being able to think and react quickly while addressing the demands of multiple people is the key to a successful three-way. Interview. Ahem.
Time Management

If you've lost your job, take a few days to cry. Eat Duncan Hines Chocolate Fudge Frosting from the can. And watch Working Girl or The Devil Wears Prada over and over and over again.

Once you're ready to commence huntin' for that new job, DO NOT waste another moment of your precious time on Monster or CareerBuilder or other job sites.

The best jobs never get posted. So work your network. First thing on Monday after I was let go – everyone I know knew I needed a new job. Mostly because of the loud, uncontrollable sobbing. Ahem.

What's more, the jobs that do get posted on career sites have already been filled - by someone who knows someone there. The position got posted because of some bullshit bureaucratic policy requiring all jobs to be listed publicly.

LinkedIn is a good site for professional networking - it's like MySpace for grown ups without all the drunken photos, bad music, and mindless quizzes.

Also, don’t limit yourself to the people you know from your industry. Think of everyone you know - friends, neighbors, acquaintances - the people who know you best. The new gig I’ve got starting October 1 came from a guy I met on the train.
The Mythical Trick Question

“If you could be any animal, what would it be?”

“How about a big fucking snake so I can bite your retarded little gourd off for asking such an absurd question?”

The fact is, people who are serious about hiring don’t mess around with ridiculous questions like this. I suspect that most of those trick questions were made up by unemployed journalists writing unhelpful articles about interviewing.

Also, do you really want to work for someone with a burning need to know what you wanted to be when you were 10 years old? Seriously.

“When I was 10? I don’t remember. But I can tell you this: I didn’t want to grow up to be interviewed by some pseudo-psychological chooch who wastes my time with silly questions. Are we done here? I think so. Thanks.”
Okay, so maybe after reading this you won’t be a porn star when it comes to interviewing.

But it can be fun if you take a little time to get better at it.

And trust me, stay out of Buicks. Nothing good ever happened in the back seat of a Buick.
I am listening to: Bladerunner soundtrack
I am reading: Harry Potter – Book 6
And I am: Waiting for Comcast

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Seven days

Friday, September 7, 10:35 a.m.

“Heather, when you have a minute, could you stop by my office?”

“Sure thing, let me dump this at my desk,” I say, dragging the booth and other crap in from a two-day user group conference in Schaumburg.

I didn’t really want to drive into the office that morning. It would’ve been much easier to head straight home from the show and take the rest of the day off – especially since I’d worked 12+ hours the day before, staying late for an inane nerd-ridden networky thing.

I plop down in his office with the Mac on my lap like always, fully expecting to hear about some new idea or direction or project that I’ll have to spend part of my weekend making happen for Monday.

It didn’t go that way. And I can’t share what he said because of the severance agreement.

But I was unexpectedly out of a job. Let go. Axed. Fired. RIF’d. Pink-slipped.

For the first time in my life.

It was unbelievably fucked up. It made no sense.

Knocked me on my ass.
Saturday, September 8, 1:05 p.m.

I drive to the office again, this time to clean out my desk.

I park illegally out front of the Opera House daring the gods to ticket or tow me. Surely I’m worthy of a little mercy at this point.

Insult to injury: Someone has STOLEN the un-opened fifth of Jack Daniels hidden behind some software on my shelf. It was a Christmas gift from one of the sales reps – destined to be tapped on a yet to be determined Special Occasion. Unbelievable.

I'm in and out in less than 15 minutes with just a pause to contemplate peeing on someone’s desk.

I forego going. No point pissing off (or on) the gods in this fragile karmic condition.

Back out front – no tickets, no tows – and I’m gone-daddy-gone from that infernal office forever.
Wednesday, September 12, 6:32 p.m.

“So how was your day?” Jim asks, fresh home from work.

“I’m unemployed,” I say from the couch. “And drowning my sorrows in The Devil Wears Prada and peanut butter.”

“Well,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ve got a JOB for you. Doesn’t pay much…”
Friday, September 14, 11 a.m.

A good first interview gives my withering self-esteem a smallish boost but the blisters keep me sequestered for the rest of the weekend.
Monday, September 17, 7:37 p.m.

Me: Still in my pajamas, no shower, attached to the couch.

“How was today?” Jim asks, but he already knows based on my appearance.

“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing. Even the people I thought for sure would call, didn’t.”

“Do I need to keep you away from sharp objects?” he asks.
Tuesday, September 18, 12:35 p.m.

A good second interview. A three-on-one situation (shut it, you) and I’m cool under pressure.

“Thanks for coming in again,” says Jeff, a partner with the firm. “We’ll call you soon to talk about next steps.”

We do the thank-you dance but after two and a half hours on the hot seat I can’t think of much but the fact that I’ve gotta PEE. RIGHT. NOW.

Stopping off at the old office for a well-placed pee stop pops into my head. But karma keeps me proper and on the potty.

“Could you point me to the restrooms please?” I ask, walking out.

“You need a key; let me get it for you.”

I walk back to return the key and that same partner is waiting for me in the lobby.

“Walk with me, Heather,” he says.


I follow him back down the hallway to the hot seat in the conference room. Same three guys. They're smiling.

“We want to hire you. When can you start?”
Half of Friday. Five business days, plus Monday. Half of yesterday.

And I have a job. A great opportunity. Starting October 1.

Seven business days.

It’s gotta be some kind of record.

Especially with all of the sobbing and sulking and mulling and moping in between.

It’s gotta be.
I meet Jim the IT Guy for lunch at Bar Louie in Printer’s Row after the interview. It's the first time I’ve seen him since the Friday I was fired.

Apparently I’m not the only one who is confused about why this happened.

“We still don’t understand it,” he says. “It makes no sense. Listen, my analogies are never good, but I know you’ll understand this: Firing you was like dumping a chick that gives phenomenal head. You just don’t do it. Ever."

“That’s IT!” I say, laughing/choking on my second celebratory Jack & Coke. “That explains why I was fired! I didn't SUCK!”

Definitely something to keep in mind for the next job. Or not.
I am listening to: The Killers – Read My Mind
I am reading: Harry Potter 6
And I am: Employed!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007


"What is he thinking?" asks Jim, as a nostalgic-looking O.J. is taken away in handcuffs last night.

What IS he thinking, hmm?

O.J. is promoting his book. Obviously.

But Hedy, the Goldman family gets the proceeds - they published the book.

They get 90%.

10% will go to O.J.'s creditors.

Say what you will about Simpson, but this is downright twisty-brilliant.

He's making headlines. Again.

For criminal behavior. Again.

And his murder how-to book?

It's #2 on Amazon.
I am listening to: Two and a Half Men
I am reading: Harry Potter 6
And I am: Staying away from sharp objects

Monday, September 17, 2007

You'd think

You'd think all this job drama would translate to blog fodder.

Of course it hasn't.

There are talkers. There are doers. And there are thinkers.

I am a thinker/doer when it comes to processing Major Life Events.

So I cut the grass this weekend. Avoided social situations. Helped Jim trim trees out front. Hauled brush to the ginormous burn pile out back. Read a lot. And figured out a much easier way to clean the filthy, dust-ridden cushions on the sun porch furniture.

I still don't know exactly what to make of this situation, but goddamn, the house looks GREAT.
Also: Had my first interview on Friday.

"Way to go, Hedy! An interview! Wow, that's GREAT!"

Okay, shaddap.

When I finally find a job working for people who actually appreciate what I do and are willing to pay for it, then we can all do the happy dance.

For now there will be no dancing, happy or otherwise.

Mostly because of the blisters. Angry, quarter-sized blisters. One on each foot. You would think it's stigmata if you didn't know me as Hedy, faithless heathen.

The interview went well. They always do.

But I nearly crippled myself walking from Union Station to the Chicago Board of Trade building in exceptionally cute new "I'm jobless" shoes.

Worse, I had to jettison the new shoes and buy newer new shoes to make the hike back to the train.

So, for those of you keeping track:

Jobs: 0
Interviews: 1
New shoes: 2

Now get back to work. I'm going to take a nap.
I am listening to: Gromit breathing
I am reading: Harry Potter 6
And I am: Quiet

Friday, September 14, 2007

Bad day

If you make sure you're connected
The writing's on the wall
But if your mind's neglected
Stumble you might fall

A semi-rainy April morning in 1993. Stereo MC’s are telling me I need to get myself connected. And I’m driving to work - anxious to get there for a big client event we’re hosting.

Approaching the intersection of North Avenue and Gary, a car turns in front of me with seconds to spare. The light turns yellow. The car behind the one that turned turns, too.

POW! Slams right into me.

I can’t breathe. Unbelievable, sharp pain in my chest.

Ambulance. Surgery. Five days in the hospital.

Bad day.
Walking at a fast clip on the treadmill. It’s two months after ACL surgery to fix the silly snowboarding mishap and I am feeling fine fine fine.

Foot slips. I go down on the bad knee. POP!

Within minutes my ruined knee is as big and round as a baby’s head.

Broken kneecap. Surgery.

Bad day.
November, last year. We three ex co-workers at our monthly stay-in-touch night at the local pub.

A mobile phone rings and is answered.

“Hey. Oh? No.”

The cancer he nearly died beating is back – brain, lung, skin.

Very bad day.
Two weeks ago, my aunt in Reno finds my uncle in their driveway coughing up blood.

Now she’s dialing his office just to hear his voicemail because all that’s left of him is in an urn waiting to be buried in Michigan.

Bad, bad days.
So I was fired last Friday.

To say that it was shocking, unbelievably fucked up and downright wrong is an understatement.

But it wasn’t a bad day. Not by a long shot.
I am listening to: Black Snake Moan
I am reading: HP5
And I am: Trying for a little perspective

Wednesday, September 12, 2007


to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow, kiddies.

Sorry for the unexplained absence.
I am listening to: Stereo MC's - Connected
I am reading: HP 5
And I am: Unemployed

Friday, September 07, 2007

Hedy Potter

Blast-Ended Skrewts. Bubotubers. Floo powder. Grindylows.

I’m in the thick of Harry Potter. Book five, to be exact.

And there’s just no other word for it: Magical.

It’s a classic story of good versus evil. Like an updated Wizard of Oz with good witches and bad witches and elves instead of munchkins.

What’s more, Harry’s stories are surprisingly moral. He’s just everything you want in a hero – brave, kind, and generous. He cares about his friends. He’s passionate about fighting evil.

But even if if if the stories were crap crap crap, the books are still worth reading simply for all those cool words like remembrall and quaffle and niffler. And even cooler names like Mundungus and Dumbledore and Severus Snape (who we love to hate).
So, ya got any magical powers?

Here are mine in no particular order:

Eye Tripping: It happens all the time – a stranger is walking toward me. We make eye contact. They trip. Not the fall down/skinned knees kind of trip. More like a walking hiccup.

Magic Hands: There’s a seminar tomorrow morning and I need 18 brochures. I find the right tray in the veritable wall of collateral and grab exactly 18. Same with pens. I always pick exactly the right amount. This is an extremely valuable talent for a Marketing Goddess like me. Bonus: This magical power also applies to finding the exact page I need in a book or magazine.

Disappearing Dog: Gromit is pestering me. Again. Jim is conveniently elsewhere in the house. All I have to say is “Gromit! Where is he?” and that silly little bugger runs off to find Jim like his tail’s on fire. Technically, this is not magic. It helps just a smidge, having a semi-retarded dog.
“I need a cauldron,” says me, watching a show about naked Pagans.

“Why don’t you try cooking something in a pot in the kitchen first?” replies Jim.
Harry Potter has a scar shaped like a lightning bolt in the center of his forehead.

In the center of my forehead there’s a big wrinkle that, if I squinch up my face just right, looks kinda like a lightning bolt.

I can’t wait to hear what Jim says about purchasing a broom.
I am listening to: Some football game
I am reading: HP 5
And I am: Not a muggle

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Re: Retard

I've heard using 'mentally retarded' or 'retard' is offensive.

I've also heard - just in the past six months - that retard is making a huge comeback in the medical/educational professions. Mental retardation is, in fact, an official medical diagnosis.

Retard, the noun, is not.

Here at HedyBlog we strive to straddle that fine line between completely offensive and mildly distasteful, so it really doesn't matter so much.
Last Saturday, we went for an inaugural overnight visit to our friends' new cottage in Lake Geneva. The goal: Get Gromit the Dog acclimated to their house so he won't freak out and shit on the kitchen table when we leave him alone there to go out and enjoy the lake. FYI: 'Enjoy the lake' is Wisconsin vernacular for taking a tour of all the bars around the lake and drinking your ass off for an entire afternoon/evening.

You'll be relieved to know that Gromit did well. He was a little hyper - he always is in a new place - but overall, he was the barky, needy, clingy nut-job that he always is.

Overheard as we were leaving Sunday morning:

"Sorry about the retard," says Jim.

"Eh, Gromit was okay," says Chris.

"No, I meant Heather."
This whole thing gets me thinking about some of my sillier moments.

For example: Before I was married, I lived alone in a walk-up apartment atop a lovely yellow home in a quiet Chicago suburb. Of all the places I've lived, it was my favorite. A huge maple tree out back made my little screened in porch seem like a tree house - the perfect spot for reading and napping and thinking.

My landlord and his wife lived downstairs and they used the driveway, so I always parked out front in the street.

One day, I pulled up to my house and a car identical to mine was parked in my spot.

"Oh - I'm home!" popped into my head.


We all have classically silly moments.

Your brain takes an unscheduled break and you suddenly you find yourself saying Oh! I'm home or something equally ridiculous.

The upside: Maybe if I act retarded they won't spank me.
I am listening to: Exhibit hall noises
I am reading: Harry Potter 5 - Fabulous!
And I am: Prone to temporary retardation

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

The big chill out

“Remember those laboratory rats who went crazy when they were deprived of their privacy?”

“They’re living with you, too?”
That's a conversation from one of my all-time favorite movies: The Big Chill.

Confession time.

I've been completely burnt out from all the activity this summer. We've had a lot of visits and visitors, small trips and major vacations.

And it was lovely. We are so blessed.

But by Sunday afternoon, I was officially DONE.

So I popped some popcorn, popped in The Big Chill and chilled out on the couch all afternoon.

Yes, it was beautiful outside. Yes it was the last weekend of the summer.

No, I didn't care. I needed couch and comfort and quiet.
I was so caught up in needing a little peaceful alone time that the irony didn't catch up with me until this morning on the train ride into the city.

When I saw The Big Chill for the first time in an English class in high school, it changed my perspective on what love is. And what friendship is all about.

It was a powerful message - love and appreciate your people while they're here rather than waiting until it's too late.

So I'm done being crabby and done being done.

I'm focusing on the blessings of a busy summer.

And it's beautiful.
I am listening to: Matchbox 20 - Push
I am reading: Harry Potter - Book 5 (finally!)
And I am: Quiet

Sunday, September 02, 2007


My next post will be Tuesday morning.
I am listening to: Silence
I am reading: Harry Potter - Book 4
And I am: Done talking for a while