I once had a room that made me think about Virginia Woolf. I lived in it last summer. It was a corner room at the end of a long corridor. The space was bright but not comfortable. The door was the shiniest black -- I think the door was actually what kept bringing Ms. Woolf to me.

Your sailor reference made me think of a song from the lastest Rasputina album. If you don't know it the line is..."Neglected girls shouldn't worry, that's what God made sailors for!" Perhaps that should be your game plan? *suggestive moue*

In any case, Mister, How do you feel about primarily anonymous package swapping? I've a plan in the works and I think you'd be tremendously good.

*gives you a bucket of key limes and a handful of chocolate chips*