I didn't think I needed to talk about it...

Hands up, now. Who teared up from a phone commercial lately? Or Hallmark? No? I mean, all the phone commercials these days, well, just aren't Kleenex-worthy.

Well, folks, I have just seen the first commercial of the new year (yes, I know it's still 2007), one that might have Daddy's little girl tearing up from coast to coast.

A girl and her dad are walking to the car. "Drop me off about a block away from the theatre" (and you're thinking, embarrassed it's your dad dropping you off?) and then she says, "People on that side of town ride bikes and drive hybrids" (As they get into an SUV). He says, "This is a hybrid."
She: "A hybrid hybrid?"
He: "Well, I don't know what you mean, by a hybrid hybrid, but this is a hybrid."

Here's the tearjerker, the "I want my mommy/daddy" moment: "Why didn't you talk about it?"

He: "I didn't know I had to."

Let that sink in. Really sink in. You've been on one side of that conversation in your life--why didn't you tell me? I thought it was obvious! I didn't know I should tell you.

And this is where the rubber meets the road. I am 36. I am pretty much a well adjusted person and I don't blame my parents, per se. But if they wanted to instill me with their values, I think they thought I'd get it by osmosis or gene transfer.

The only thing my parents ever talked to me about was marrying someone Christian.

When I got my first credit card in college, they didn't tell me, make sure you don't spend more than you can pay in one month. Okay, maybe they told me once. But clearly it didn't sink in.

When I got kissed in high school, I had no "talks" in my brain about what is/what isn't appropriate.

Hello, out there. I don't have children. But if you do, use those moments, teachable moments.

Yes, we, this is a hybrid, that's important to us.

Yes, saving is something you should do, even with your babysitting money (I'm 36 and this is the first time in my working life that I have a savings/emergency account.)

When my parents didn't talk to me about dating, I thought (yes, I did) that they figured I wasn't going to get any dates, so they didn't need to give me any information.

A lot of my values are from Seventeen magazine, Writer's Digest magazine, because that's where I got information as a teen.

The talks I had with my parents (who bless them, were raising toddlers and a thirteen year old) were the "we're disappointed in you." If I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't get a talk. Grounded? (Nope, not even after I did stupid stuff that they found out about.) Um, I did plenty that was stupid and therefore worthy of grounding. I was never grounded as a teen, therefore, I have been grounded by me myself and I in my twenties and thirties.

I know this is rough, I know I could write this better, but I probably won't, because it would get too close to the little girl in me that has to admit that I'm 36 and I'm my own parent now.

PLEASE talk to your kids.

there must be something more...

than winning three games of free cell...

I had a very productive day at work, so I think I'm truly slumming. And no work until Wednesday (or plans except church and MAYBE a party on NYE with NH Sally and hopefully watching the Pens game).

Oh, I have got to get a life.

Or maybe work on the one right here. I suppose I could fold some laundry...

See, writing is a good motivator!!

I haven't watched the gag reel yet...

As you may have read earlier this week, Sis hit it big when she gave me "The Family Stone" for Christmas. We saw it as a family last year--movies at, on, or near holidays are big in the Louise family. And as it was on my list, she got it.

And so I have been blubbering away for the past last bit of it... (THAT'S NOT A SPOILER!)

**********

Tomorrow I have to get out of the house by 8:30 am the latest, so this is tomorrow morning's post.

I am looking forward to the gag reel. I need a laugh.

Life is good. Friends are better. Love is the best. As the movie ended, I could only hear Amy Grant singing (in my mind, folks, in my mind. Amy Grant is NOT, I repeat, NOT, a part of the soundtrack of "The Family Stone")

"That's what love if for
Nothing else can do it.

Round off the edges
Talk us down from the ledges
Give us strength to try once more
Baby, that's what love is for
That's what love is for."

*****************

ah, don't you wish you knew what got deleted right here??? i'll never tell...

*****************

Time to make some popcorn for the gag reel. Thanks for reading and commenting, my dear ones.

the apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

I never realized that my dad and I both have the same morning habits: up early, downstairs in the kitchen before breakfast, reading. (In our pjs and robes. That was the part that hit me on the head. My mother never comes downstairs unless she's fully dressed.) It used to of course just be the paper, but of course now it's the computer, which whomever gets there first, the other one vies for.

He also has paper issues. As in, not going through and getting rid of paper. Ding!

It was such a comfort to have him drive me to Hagerstown--he was ready (I did have to prime the pump though...) with a "I've been there" story, a girl he'd dated that right before the six months broke it off (and my father is a romantic, I'm sure he was keeping track of the six month mark). And four months later she got married. Oh, I've been THERE. (Mr. Ten Years Ago was engaged within six months of our demise.)

I feel better, but I still have this stupid cold--the mucous, well, I'll leave it there so as not to go all TMI on you. I can't pretend it's because I haven't dusted in FOREVER.

Resolution, once this cold is gone: take a walk every day.

Resolution, once this cold has been gone a few days: to dust.

Yesterday, I did park once. Meaning, I parked in the middle of the parking lot, went into Kmart, then walked to the chiropractor, at a brisk pace, then back to Kmart, then back to the car. I didn't break any mile marker records, but hey, it was a little bit of exercise...

I doubt that will happen today. Today I'll pretty much go to work and then come home and be a couch potato whilst continuing to do laundry and unpack. I honestly can't believe I'm going to publish this--it is so not thrilling...

But it's better than what I wrote when I first sat down, which was full of the reasons we're not together. (I'm sure that would be more thrilling, sorry SP, but it got way too personal, even for me.)

It's really nice to not have him here. I mean, we live in the same house, but we're loud enough that we didn't run into each other, but I heard him. In from work, slam! Leaving for work, slam! (And then I'd watch him out the front window, walking to his car.) Just knowing he's NOT downstairs, just not hearing the slam!s, well, it helps. His mail started back yesterday, so I don't know when to expect him...but he's not here now, and he wasn't here last night.

And I continue to listen to High Fidelity in the car. And I've been re-reading A long way down. One of these days I really am going to write to Nick Hornby. Because honestly, I don't think I would have survived this summer without listening to A long way down in the car. And I don't know who better to get me through this "Oughngh!" stage than Mr. H. It helps to know that he's married and has a kid, so he survived this, made it through to the other side.

It's actually sort of a joke between me and myself--because on my Facebook page, I've added "Books" and the books I'm reading are "Slam!" and "A long way down" by Nick Hornby. And books to read: "Fever Pitch" by guess who. Finished reading: "High Fidelity" by, yes, Nick, the Nickster. Well, I take a bit of a turn with Favorites, I put "Blue like Jazz" and "Traveling Mercies." But it occurs to me that I really identify with the 30-something male characters. More than any of the chick lit I've read. Maybe because they all had swank jobs in publishing and I sort of hated them for that. Maybe because they lived in New York and I sort of hated them for that (because I always wanted to live in New York and work in publishing.) But they were never grungy enough for me. It makes me wonder what my novel will be like, once I get around to writing it. Because grunge, grit, heck, I live in the grunge capital. Seattle may claim it, but it's really too shiny. Pittsburgh just pretends to be shiny.

Okay, I better eat something and take some cold medicine. It is FREEZING sitting at the computer in front of these windows.

I ordered the complete fourth season of SATC. Oh, I am looking forward to watching them all, Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda.

Brrr...okay, I'm moving!!

funny, not so ha ha

So my chiropractor says, "have a few days off from the library?" Um, would I be back in Pittsburgh if I did?

I went to Kmart to buy underwear and cold medicine. So how did I also accrue expenses (and loot) on such items as bobby pins, hair elastics, a "scrapbook style" calendar, and a grey long sleeve shirt?

I'm alone in the house for I don't know how many days. I'll enjoy it while I can, doing laundry galore (yes, the new underwear and some towels before work) and leaving all the lights on, and my apartment unlocked. I didn't need Eva to leave (Ms. Second Floor) when she did--it sort of catatstrophied (if that's a word) the Max loss. We weren't "mates" in the significant sense, but sometimes she'd give me leftovers if she made chicken and I bought stuff from her daughter's school fundraisers.

My computer clock STILL is so messed up--right now it thinks it's 7:57 AM, and I can see plainly that it is five til noon. Why I didn't ask Santa for a Home Edition of XP (still available for upgrade, though not if you buy a new computer--that's so you don't send me comments) is beyond me. I guess I'm dressed for the day in what I wore to the chiropractor, jeans that are showing their age, and three shirts layered (pink, green, white).

I'm always hopeful when the phone rings and inevitably it's a telemarketer (the joys of caller ID).
Nick Hornby is still getting me through the heart shock. And I'm getting the idea from a lot of folks that six months is sort of a watershed. It either works or doesn't in that time frame. Besides, did I really think I was going to spend the rest of my tomorrows with a musician who makes less than I do a year (and I make nothing) and who isn't available to go to church even if he wanted to because he's working? I'm on the dark side of thirty (that is, I'm closer to 40 than 30) and he hasn't even hit 30 yet. Oh, but it would have been nice. He could make me laugh. And he didn't take my shit. He knew when I was lying. I never dated anyone before who took the time to see through me like that. I better stop writing this drivel, and go spend some time looking at this "scrapbook calendar" I got.

Oh, and Bhutto got killed. Crap. I always liked her, the little I knew of her.

It's gray here in Pittsburgh. Funny, I like Pittsburgh gray (which is what it's called). It fits my mood. I have 30 minutes before I have to leave for work (if I ate at home. But since there's no food in the larder, I have 15 minutes. I guess I'll drive thru somewhere on the way...)

gifts always lift one's spirit...

So we got lots of goodies, here at the Louise homestead.

Mamma is going to Mexico in February with Pappa to look at Monarchs (butterflies) so they both got "travel"or "Mexico" themed gifts. My mom got a cool book on butterflies.

Sis got socks. And more socks. And yes, more socks.

Bro got lots of boxers and books (things that begin with b).

I got a wide range: earrings (amber!!), books, Friends Season 6, The Family Stone on DVD, chocolate (of course) and yes, Santa knew what toothpaste I use.

Books that I got: High Fidelity and Long Way Down (to complete my Nick Hornby fiction collection.) Good job bro!

I'm feeling better (the cold medicine has kicked in, plus I'm taking tons of naps) in the physical realm and a little better in the achy breaky heart division...it comes and goes. (What did Delaware? Idaho, Alaska. She wore her New Jersey.) I'm telling you, KEEP SENDING JOKES. (Thanks Kiki.)

We went to see the National Tree and all the state trees. The Pennsylvania tree was decorated by kids at the Children's Museum in Pgh, so it wasn't very "state" oriented but it was fun.

Since I missed bro's birthday and will miss Sis's birthday, those days were celebrated last night (Bro) and tonight (Sis). I was very excited to get Bro the DVD of Ramones It's Alive. I made Sis a folder over Thanksgiving and so that was her birthday gift. I used to make tons of folders and got out of it, but when Max was feeling not so well the first time and just wanted to be alone, I made him a folder. When he was in the hospital for the tonsillectomy, I made him another one. So I was in practice and decided to make Sis one. I think I'll make one for Mamma that has monarachs etc.

Well, we've been talking to cousins all through the day, which is nice too. Just got a chance to talk to my only male cousin, whom I wanted to marry when I was five and he was thirteen. Since then, I've learned about inbreeding, and he met a nice girl in Arkansas and has three girls, so I guess my chance is gone.

Well, gotta go. Maybe I'll just take another nap. I have been sleeping A LOT. This cold isn't so fierce but I'm just trying to sleep it out as much as possible. Oh, and Aunt Flo came to visit this morning. "Merry Christmas!!"

oh by the way

Merry Christmas.

missing him

I need to go watch Friends--you know, where Monica and Tom Selleck break up. I promise I'll do this when I get back to da Burgh.

But if you want a laugh, (you won't get one here), go over to Caro's blog. (Why a dog is better than your Significant Other.)

until I learn how to use de.lis.io.us...

this blog is a placeholder for cool stuff.

(and I just lost this post, but here's a cool link from Jessamyn, about saving $$ on printer ink.)

Pizza heals all...

Marian (the librarian) and I went to a NoHills pizza joint after work and talked loudly (as the Stillers played in the background). I didn't know I could eat half a medium pepperoni, but I did. She ate the other half. Good friends are worth their weight in gold.

So I'm feeling a little better than I was this morning. Well, actually, a lot better. (Oh, internets, I was a [sob, sob] mess.)

And my therapist cracks me up--she bleeds black and gold like most Pittsburghers and so on game day, (today) (I had an emergency session) she is always wearing team colors, as she was today. Her necklace is black and gold. Not black bead, gold bead but black beads (like 10 in a row) and then gold beads (like 10 in a row.) The only place you could get away with this unusual beading style is in this here town where I live.

Oh, and I got a book in the mail! It's a reader's advance, woo hoo! Oh, and Slam, Nick Hornby's YA novel, is waiting for me at work. (I forgot to check it out, so it's still on my desk.) But I actually want to save it for my mini-holiday down South.

I think it's off to bed. My computer thinks it's 8:38 pm. I know that it is really 5 til eleven. Tomorrow is a full day (I gotta pack!!)

Hugs to yins, SL

(You might have noticed that I didn't mention the C word in this post at all--I am in denial that there is a gift giving, family traveling holiday coming VERA VERA SOON.)

happy birthday bro!

my bro turns a quarter century today. Woo hoo!

"I didn't [sob, sob] call [sob, sob] you!," I say.

One of my favorite lines from Girl's Poker Night. Ruby has had a really bad week and when she went to see her therapist, she sits there the whole time, sobbing on and off or just being silent. So her therapist calls her at home.

"This is Ella Gallagher calling," she says. As opposed to writing? Of course she's calling! You don't need to tell me you're calling!

"Um, yes, hi, Ella," I say.
"You're still upset," she says.
"I'm not still upset..." [which turns into more sobbing.]
"You know I don't like phone sessions," she says.
"I didn't [sob, sob] call [sob, sob] you!," I say.

So tomorrow is another doctor day. Chiro at 8:45, therapy at 11, and dentist at 3:45. I'm getting a crown put on. YAY!

********

This post was originally written and posted on June 3, 2007. Even if my therapist does have space for me, I don't know if I'd have time, since I'm still sitting here in my bathrobe. (I just did the math...if I got in the shower now and got to work by 10 I could do it. I'd have to relegate errands to tomorrow.)

No, I have not started packing for my Christmas trip home. The scab on my broken heart got pulled off (yes, by me--kicking self, but also giving myself a little grace--so human am I) last night.

But the very cool gift for my brother arrived the other day, so I will rest in that. Because I have to find rest somewhere.

from Daysgoby...

You Are Rudolph

Sweet and shy, you tend to be happiest when you're making someone else happy. Why You're Naughty: You sometimes stick that nose where it doesn't belong Why You're Nice: Christmas would be a sad affair without you!

Which of Santa's Reindeer Are You?

Accept the fluster of lost keys...*

I woke up this morning with these words (the title) going through my head. As I think about how to be kind and honest and still be me (transparently me) on this blog, I am at a loss.

Ugh.

Not that I was necessarily being unkind, but I wasn't being exactly kind by writing about someone else currently (sort of) in my life without his permission (and possibly with out his knowledge), writing on the Internet, which is open to all.

I just finished reading a book called "I found it on the Internet," which is about teens and their uses of the Internet, etc. I cannot imagine having a blog with my real name where I wrote about my feelings--I'm waiting to be a grown-up, I guess. A blog with my real name would have to be about being a librarian, or the mechanics of being a writer. But not about ex-boyfriends and about being still single at the Christmas of my 36th year.

"Children's work is play. Teenager's work is socialization." I think about how guilty I feel about checking Facebook at work, how, when I started this blog, I vowed that I wouldn't write in it during work hours. The problem, I think is (at least) dual: I am lonely. I am bored. These things don't go away when I'm at work. So while I am generally always having work to do when I'm in the Technical Services dept, when I'm done with a task, I "treat" myself and check my email, Facebook. In Children's, it is more pervasive (is that the right word?)--when I'm at the desk, I generally don't take "work" with me. This means the Internet is right there, calling my name. "Come play!" Instead of reading blogs that might be pertinent to my job (there are a lot, librarians blog a lot), I use the time to catch up with my friends.

A Zits comic strip really brought it home. The mom comes over to Jeremy and says (something like) "Your father and I are worried that you aren't spending any time with your friends. Is there something wrong?" She talks for all four frames, meanwhile Jeremy is sitting at the computer. Each frame has a little factoid that announces something about Jeremy's online life. Frame 1: (and this is from memory, the book is at work) 187 IM friends. Frame 2: 31 blogs. Frame 3: 325 unread emails. Frame 4: Jeremy says, "Not enough time."

Truer words were never spoken. The online world is always there. In the words of country singer, Alan Jackson, "It's five o'clock somewhere." So someone is ALWAYS "online." And I have friends in Thailand and the Czech Republic, so they're online at different times because they're in a different time zone.

I have had time to send how many emails, post how many blog posts, check my Facebook profile, etc. etc. But I have not MADE time to write a letter to a friend who has written me three letters (on stationery) in the past couple of months. Part of it is that ohmigosh, it is 9:15 and it is soooo easy to lose time on the Internet!

(But I showered first. I do have to eat breakfast, though.)

Do not adjust your dials...

Yes, I have done yet another purge--my conscience got to me again. I'm not saying I won't write more posts like I did in the past week (and then pull them) but for now, I feel that I need to be careful, as my blog is not airtight and fully anonymous.

Stay tuned!

Games people play: an interview with Free Cell player, Sarah Louise

Sarah Louise: Yahoo! Free Cell is one of my favorite games.

Pink Sneakers n'at: Why is that, Sarah Louise?

SL: Well, I'll tell you. I run the game. The computer deals the cards, and I have to go by the rules the computer has determined. The computer won't let me cheat. But other than that, I can replay a game as many times as it takes to win. Sort of like Run Lola Run. Hmmm, there's a movie to put on hold at the library...

PS: Run Lola Run? Isn't that a German film?

SL: It is. I love watching foreign films, especially if I sort of know the language, so that I don't have to completely rely on subtitles. The actress in RLR is the romantic interest in the first Jason Bourne movie. Another movie to put on hold...

PS: Let's talk about games...

SL: Sorry, my mind wandered a bit there. So, yes, why I love Free Cell. I can move the red eight to the black nine and then move it to the other black nine. Since I play for me, for the win, I don't care how many times I move the cards around. Some computer clock keeps time, and maybe counts my moves. But I don't care. I just keep moving the cards around until they make sense. I once watched my brother play Free Cell, and he was paralyzed by making the right next move. When I play Free Cell, there is no right next move, just a next move. If I can't make a next move, I hit replay or new game. Sometimes I will play a game eight times before I win. Sometimes I will play a game three times before I give up.

PS: Have you ever had a problem with stopping?

SL: I think I know what your question is. When I was in grad school, I literally was addicted to Free Cell. It was the first thing I did when I got home, the last thing before I went to bed. I actually deleted the games application from my computer. I had a similar experience with Bookworm, which I downloaded to my computer. But now I see Free Cell as a diversion. It took me a while to figure out that the Yahoo! version was the one I liked most. I've tried others and Yahoo! is the best fit for my online game needs.

PS: do you ever think about crossword puzzles?

SL: You ask questions in the most bizarre fashion, as if you could read my thoughts. Yes. I think about crossword puzzles. I miss doing them. Very much. But I'm not in a place right now where I want to pay for a daily newspaper subscription. And I can't imagine doing crosswords online. I suppose if someone wanted to give me something for Christmas (hmm, my brother in Austin still hasn't gotten a list from me) they could get me a Mondays book.

PS: A Monday's book?

SL: Crossword puzzles are harder as you get later into the week. So Mondays are easiest. Sundays are hardest. A real crossword afficionado can do the New York Times Sunday Crossword Puzzle in pen. I'm still at the pencil on Mondays stage in the Washington Post. Can I go off topic for a minute?

PS: It's your post, baby.

SL: You know what I really want for Christmas? I want to find the purple watch Sally gave me and have the battery fixed. It's a little luxury that I wouldn't do for myself if I had someone else that was around. But how do you put something like that on a list, when my parents want to give me things like chicks for women in Indonesia (which I love getting every year). My mom bought me something pink yesterday. I hope it's new slippers.

You know what else I want for Christmas? There are a few relationships that I would like back, but to get them back, there would be a lot of work. I would like them back, without the work.
Some of them are relationships that fell away without my noticing, really. I have no idea even how to work towards getting them back. Some of them are relationships that ended with horrible emails. I don't want to write emails to repave the road back to relationship. Some of them are relationships that ended with an awkward hug, when all the other hugs had always been wonderful.

PS: Are relationships like games, do you think?

SL: Well, they do have rules, and they are fun, but the winning part is different--a relationship "win" isn't a personal thing, it's communal. Are we done?

PS: Thank you for coming in, Sarah Louise. All the best.

SL: You're welcome. I'm going to sit here and watch Jerry Maguire, one of my favorite movies about games.

Three more...

There is nothing more beautiful than a good sports movie. I laughed, I cried (well, they were laughter tears), it was better than Cats* (but don't tell my sister.)

Tonight I watched The Mighty Ducks, a movie I remember watching on video in college. It was an odd night--a girl I barely knew from the Christian fellowship on campus invited me to hang out with her. We got take-out? and went to the the video store, where she asked me had I seen MD and I said, no, and she said, "oh, you gotta see this!" I don't remember that we became best buds or that we even hung out after that night. But I was in a funk, and the Ducks got me out of it. It was actually my introduction to hockey, a sport I now love. I would put The Mighty Ducks in the category of movies that can cheer me up, no matter what:

The Mighty Ducks
Adventures in Babysitting (Which I can't believe I don't own.)
The Full Monty

So here are three beautiful things for today:

1. A beer with the Mighty Ducks--quack quack quack
2. Snow--I'm crazy, and I don't enjoy driving in it anymore than the next guy, but it is beautiful.
3. My sister is back online!! (She's been down with a nasty flu for the past week.)

Oh, and bonus, I drove past the toe dazzling house on Siebert (yes, on purpose, I probably will drive past it every day I work until Christmas comes.)

[We pause for Sarah Louise to compose herself. We pause for station identification. We pause...and the moment passes...and life goes on.]

______________________________
*from the Memphis Flyer: "Throughout the 1980s it was common to review any lame-leaning event with the deadpan comment 'I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats.'"

Three things

You know there's a whole movement of blogs (too lazy to find the link but I bet it's easily googled) that just list three beautiful things from the day. You know me, I'm much too verbose to keep it there, but I'm still getting my mojo back, so today, that's my post.

Three beautiful things:

1. Speaking a bit of French and more, listening to it spoken to me at Cafe Chez Amis for lunch.
2. Christmas lights--there is one huge house on Siebert that dazzles me to my toes.
3. Jacob Have I loved on audio--I'm on the very last bit, where she's a nurse midwife in the Appalacian Mountains (oops, spoiler alert!)

More to come, I promise.

grateful that this month is not napoblomo...

I'm all blogged out. I'm having fun writing status updates on Facebook, tho.

I'll write sompin good for yins soon. I promise. Really. But right now I just need to hibernate...

the time has come, the time is now...

...to write about something else. Maybe I'll do a meme...

Well, here are some "badges" for National Crazy Month...

So here are my thoughts: the beach one, b/c in a few months who will really care, so the surf can erase it away. The sidewalk is the exact opposite--for posterity, I DID IT! The others are just fun, and I think my favorite is the pink one. C'mon, tell me you didn't see that coming...Vote if you like, I am interested to hear your thoughts (since this is unofficially read and comment on other people's blogs month). Although the pink one probably will be the one I use, unless I can rotate them... oh, and they are all from imagechef.com.

poetry for a Sunday morning...

I have been roaming the Internet instead of walking in Highland Park. I have been blog-walking. Which is often easier, often harder.

I don't know which is which.

It is December, and while I love this month, I love this time of year, it is also a time of busy busy busy. Someone has to work at the stores so that other people can shop at 7 am. Someone has to play the music so that other people can sit and listen. Someone has to catalogue the books so that other people can find them on the shelf.

Okay, so that last one isn't a December lament, but I wanted three. And it makes it personal. Well, the whole bit is personal. Anyways. (Actually, it is a December lament, since it's my lament in the month of...nevermind.)

Poetry is often how my soul gets soothed. So I bring you some poetry.

This one asks a big question that I'm not prepared to answer: Variations on the word love by Margaret Atwood. (I love MA's poetry.)

This one, by Naomi Shehab Nye, brings it home, and makes it bigger than you and me. Which I need it to be. Because two people aren't enough. (WHERE IS MY COPY OF ABOUT A BOY??): Before you know what kindness really is. (linked from bobbie)

It's raining. I think I'll walk to Tazza and get my breakfast sandwich. I meant to take a longer walk, a walk all around the park, but this will have to do.

DONE DONE DONE

I will upload some "I did napoblomo 2007" badges that I made at imagechef.com LATER. Now I gotta get ready for work.

buh-bye