Before they show you your quiz results, they ask you which country you think you'll get. I guessed France and I got France. Whatever that means. Laissez les bons temps rouler, bébé!

take the "which country are you?" quiz here.  by littlelamb.

Here begins a love affair with all things Dave Eggers.

This afternoon I crawled into bed feeling lousy and started A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius proper (after reading the acknowledgements days earlier) and couldn't stop. Until hours later, anyway. I didn't notice the time until Dad logged on to his Spanish radio station and blasted it throughout the house from the living room computer. (I think I like living room better as two, unhyphenated words. Yep.)

Now I'm delaying going back to bed and picking up the book again. I don't want it to end too fast.

Also thinking seriously about investing $25 + s&h on issue number six of McSweeney's, the one with Saskia's essay on Robert Lowell's letters. Actually the decision is made, I just have to check on the old bank account, see what's going on in there.

He looks nothing like his jacket photo. Younger. Cheekier. More vulnerable.

Anyway. Enough confessions for one night. It's Sebadoh, doing this to me.