Maria Sharapova Confirms a Quarterfinal Birth at French Open 2011

Maria Sharapova squeezed through her way to reach the quarterfinals of Roland Garros 2011.

The former world number one tennis star is currently seventh seed and she easily edged Polish 12th seed Agnieszka Radwanska 7-6 (7/4), 7-5 to make her way to the French Open 2011 Quarterfinals on Monday.

Maria Sharapova is now expected to show her skills again in Paris either against 25th seeded Russian Maria Kirilenko or German 15th seed Andrea Petkovic to confirm a semifinal seat of French Open.

Initially, it was not looking easy for Sharapova to beat Agnieszka Radwanska as Agnieszka was cruising against her with 4-1 in first set.

However, Sharapova, known for her fighting skills, bounced back and survived five set points in the second set.

The 24 year old Russian sensation Sharapova has won three Grand Slams and she is bidding to better her previous best performance at French Open 2007 when she made into the semifinals.

After a shaky start when Sharapova saw a fall of 4-1 down, she narrowly escaped a 5-1 deficit as she survived two breaks, but then she skilfully converted her fifth break point of the seventh game.

Radwanska could do nothing as she failed to retrieve a stinging forehand.

After levelling the sets, Sharapova never looked back and she took the first set tie break on her first set point.

Radwanska found herself lacking power to return a hammering first serve and Sharapova reacted in much powerful manner.

Maria Sharapova Takes a Leap towards Her Career Grand Slam

Russian hot tennis star Maria Sharapova stormed in Paris to enter into French Open 2011 last 16.

She won against Taiwan’s Chan Yung-Jan during their women’s third round match in the French Open in Paris with ease.

Former world number one Maria Sharapova cruised like a firestorm in the fourth round of the French Open 2011 with an explicit show of hard-hitting as she won direct sets with 6-2 6-3 to earn victory over Taiwan’s Chan Yung-Jan on Saturday.

Known for her graceful hot girl looks, Sharapova was once voted as the most fashionable tennis player on and off the court.

On Saturday, she was wearing a chic chick yellow dress on court Philippe Chartrier at Paris in France.

Currently, Maria Sharapova is seventh seeded and she is one of the strongest contenders for the French Open this year.

She has never won a French Open title, however, this year, she is feeling very comfortable while playing on the typical clay courts of France.

Right from the start of the game, Maria Sharapova maintained her power strokes to take a 4-0 lead and from there, nothing was able to stop her.

In an another match, Polish tennis star Agnieszka Radwanska, who is 12th seeded, won against Belgian Yanina Wickmayer 6-4 6-4.

Sharapova will take on Agnieszka Radwanska to progress towards the title French Open 2011 to complete a career grand slam.

Recently in an interview, she said that Belgian Kim Clijsters will be a strong opponent in any condition.

The Business School Wives Book Club: Part Six (America in Europe)

Some Book Club meetings are easier to cater for than others. When we discussed Three Cups of Tea we did so over delicious Pakistani snacks, and for our Rebecca meeting, I baked a tray of scones. But our discussion of The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway was the winner in terms of feasting. We sat down to acres of tapas – with olives and cheeses and dates wrapped in ham and baked peppers and all sorts of lovely things. There was also plenty of red wine – although probably not quite as much as is consumed in the book.

The Sun Also Rises was Hemmingway’s first successful novel and it is short and sad. The narrator of the story is the hard drinking, eternally frustrated Jake Barnes and his subjects are his fellow American ex-patriots living in Paris in the 1920s. They seem to drift around the city in loose formation, drinking, talking about drinking, having romances and waiting for their money to show up from home. Jake homes in on a handful of characters in particular. He introduces us to Robert, an emotionally pathetic ex-pat novelist with a boxing background and an inferiority complex. Then there is Michael, a hard drinking, heavy spending guy who has to share his fiancée with every other man who comes along. The jewel of the novel is Brett, a woman of beauty, daring and staggering abandon, who everyone else is in love with. Most of all, Jake homes in on his own character; his visceral but unfulfillable love for Brett; his status as a member of a lost generation; his anti-Semitism; his need to be at the centre of things. This rag-tag band of souls leaves their makeshift homes in Paris and head south for Spain to see the fiesta. There, before the spectacle of the bullfight, Brett’s sensuous impulses and the groups’ collective tolerance will be tested to their limits.

Hemmingway’s writing is often imitated but seldom well. At its best it is an adjective-free series of clipped, masculine statements that builds up an emotionally convincing narrative – made clearer for all the things left unsaid. If you are a reader who likes flowers with your prose, this may not be for you. It is minimalist and unfussy. Because the language is cut down the symbols in the story become supremely important.

Jake and Brett make the central symbol. She is a woman who is literally addicted to sex. Hemmingway does not tell us why, he leaves us to wonder – but what ever the reason, if a man shows the least interest in her (and they usually do), then there is no stopping Brett. The man who loves her most however is Jake and he is impotent and can never give her what she wants. Jake is one of that small band of much pitied soldiers who were injured in World War 1 and never made love again. Together, Jake and Brett symbolise the so-called “lost generation” that Hemmingway was a part of. These were the people who lived most of their adulthood in the shadow of the First World War – and for whom there was no chance of innocence. Although both Jake and Brett want happiness, they are irreconcilable. Their love, which might have worked out in another corner of history is drained of joy and morality.

I loved it. I thought it was a moving and authentic read with real people and real disasters. I don’t know that I cared too much for the characters. I liked the self-knowing realism of Jake, but his pals were pretty charmless. Brett was the kind of character who was interesting because of the way she lived rather than anything she said. In fact, her conversation in the novel was almost entirely dominated by references to being “tight”. The Sun Also Rises is a novel that does a good job of dividing people. There are excellent and various bloggy opinions available from Mrs B at The Literary Stew, Gary at How Books Got Their Titles, Clover at Fluttering Butterflies, ANZ Litlovers Litblog, Steven Riddle at Flos Carmeli, Cody at Swann’s Thoughts, Linda at The Fill in the Gaps: 100 Project, For Comrades and Lovers and Ed Gorman.

I have found a picture of Hemmingway and since I learned from Gary at How Books Got Their Titles that Brett Ashley was modelled on Lady Duff Twysden I have also included a picture of her sitting alongside Hemmingway and friends in Paris. There are also a couple of shots of the 1957 film with Ava Gardner, hmmm; I feel a Book Club movie night coming on.

The travelling bookcase: Shakespeare and Co (Paris)

Tuesday was a sun drenched, blossom littered, planeless day in Paris and after a few hours of meandering aimlessly around unknown department stores trying to replace a summer jacket that my husband has described as “really awful”, I gave up the ghost. It was one of those days when the weather had taken the city by surprise and school children and office workers were sunning themselves in small parks and church gardens. So, if the truth be known, it was too glorious to be jacket shopping and an excellent opportunity for me to check out Paris’ most famous English language book shop – Shakespeare and Co.

Shakespeare and Co is tucked in on the edge of the Latin Quarter – opposite Notre Dame and snuggled next door to St Julien le Pauvre. Like these two sights – it is quite woven into the fabric of the city. Originally founded in 1919, the shop was the frequent haunt of Ernest Hemmingway, Erza Pound, Gertrude Stein and James Joyce to name but a few. It was renowned for selling books that had been banned elsewhere such as Lady Chatterley’s Lover and Ulysses. The first incarnation of Shakespeare and Co was closed down during the German occupation of Paris in 1941 and booklovers had to wait for a whole decade for it to be reborn. The current shop has been going since 1951 and has been called a “socialist utopia masquerading as a bookstore”. Most importantly, Shakespeare and Co is not a sterile seller of books – it is a living place. The shop frequently plays host to new writers for readings and discussion nights and even puts them up – there are 13 beds available for writers to live and work in the shop.

I found Shakespeare and Co to be a warren of tiny half separated rooms in which every spare corner contains a pile of books. Upstairs an eclectic selection of chairs and sofas are arranged in a well stocked reading room and a piano and a typewriter are available for travelling musicians and correspondents. The whole place teems with hoards of pilgrims (for Pilgrims they must surely be called...), all shuffling past one another, crouching in corners to read while another browses and saying “oh excuse me” and “oh sorry” etc. The books that are for sale downstairs are a remarkably intelligent selection of the classic and the offbeat – and the new and the second hand are all mixed up.

Although I was feeling a bit “off” shopping, I could hardly resist a spot of book buying. So – I have supplemented my shelves with three new acquisitions – a collection of short stories by the wonderful magical realist Gabriel Garcia Marquez called No one writes to the Colonel. Realising that I am a bit down on my Defoe, I also picked up both A Journal of the Plague Year and Moll Flanders. But then, who, having read the title page of Moll Flanders could possibly resist?

If you find yourself in Paris any day soon, you might like to look at the shop’s website.

Although it is busy and a bit of a comedy of manners within, Shakespeare and Co has definitely made it onto my list of favourite bookshops.

Do you have a favourite bookshop and where in the world is it?

Indignant confusion and the Paris Lido: the strange legacy of the Marchesa Casati

Yesterday was spent exactly as I always dreamed Saturdays in France would be spent. Beloved husband attended a statistics class while I sat in a cafe in Fontainebleau sipping tea and reading. In the evening we put down our books and headed for Paris and for a table under the glittering lights and before the leggy, feathered show boys and girls of the Lido caberet. And if that sounds decadent – that is before I have even let on what I was reading. The book that I devoured in the cafe yesterday was an example of my chief vice – it was an art book. They cost too much, they are full of pictures and they certainly do not fit in your handbag – and yet I find them compulsive.

“The Marchesa Casati: Portraits of a Muse” by Scot D Ryersson and Michael Orlando Yaccarino is quite a thing to find compulsive. It is the story in words, pictures, fabrics and collages of one of the strangest, most narcissistic, most creative and downright outrageous women known to history – Luisa, the Marchesa Casati. Luisa (which I shall take the liberty of calling her) was born in late 19th century Milan and at 13 was Italy’s wealthiest heiress. She made a consensual but loveless arranged marriage early and had a child. But the world of respectable wife and mother was not one that she would inhabit for long.

Almost overnight Luisa transformed herself into a man eating, drug taking international muse. She said that she wanted to become a work of art and to this end her image was her only real focus. Any artist who came within kissing distance was commissioned to represent her appearance – she was painted on canvas, captured on film, sculpted in clay and cast in bronze. She accentuated her emaciated 6 feet tall figure with elaborate headpiece and sky high heels. In an age where some still considered piano legs to be risqué she attended parties wearing nothing but a fur cape and high heels. Her look was completed with a menagerie of exotic animals - monkeys, panthers and snakes which would be worn live and venomous around her white neck.

Such was her self-absorption that she dissipated her entire fortune on costumes, parties, paintings and the furnishing of gin palace homes. By the 1940s she was living in a bed-sit in London kohling her famous eyes with cherry blossom boot polish. There she died in 1957. Before her death she had taken to wearing a waste paper basket sheathed in black velvet on her head. She had even been seen foraging in a Mayfair bin. The cultural legacy associated with her image is colossal. In our own time it has been represented by Tennessee Williams, Cecil Beaton, John Galliano, Karl Lagerfeld and Tom Ford to name but a few.

For me, Luisa is a most confusing figure. One side of me is frustrated that a woman so narcissistic, so intellectually insubstantial could ever become a figure of cultural resonance and in anyway represent her sex. Equally, one has to admire the sheer subversion of Luisa Casati – she was not willing to do one single thing that society demanded of her and she pursued all that was not allowed and disapproved of. The urge to disobey exists in us all, but Luisa was brave enough to respond to it. At the same time, she became a figure of fun and her life, at its end, was a profoundly sad one. The authors of this pictorial biography are quite right though, when they write that her cultural legacy is so huge that we hardly even notice it anymore. This was the thought that struck me as the lights in the Paris lido dimmed and out strutted a troupe of men and women, scantily clad, gold heeled, heavily made up and topped with crowns and feathers. The image which the Marchesa Casati invented in the early part of the twentieth century, is still with us today.

Nightlife

These pictures were taken from our balcony in Paris!

Hi guys! Sorry for missing out this week. Again. I already started my days as an internship at one of scholar’s branch company. And my first impression when I stepped into that cold glass door was that, “I chose a wrong place for my internship”. (Okay, may be not that long, but you get it).

The place is suitable for biotechnology, bioprocessing or something along that line of works. It requires you to do lot of lab works for research purposes. That being said, I really like the working environment there. Everyone seems friendly to each other and eerily look like one big family.

Not bad for spending your 10 weeks there, I hope. Anyway, this also my first time living in an apartment. My house is at the top most floor (20th floor) and apart from the crowded space below, the night view of the city is breath taking. The nightlife there is equally tempting. I am sorry though for not posting any of the pictures here. I haven’t managed to upload it into my laptop.

Happy Labour Day to everyone! I am going off to Kelantan for the weekend! See you later!

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Bluecrystaldude

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Singapore Trip

From Paris, France

Hi to all. I will be off to Singapore under my university educational and career visit program tonight (Friday, January 16, 2009). Truth is I am not that excited since I already been to Singapore few times already, mainly for shopping spare, but this is the first time I will go there with my friends and for an educational purposes. I am sure the feeling will be entirely different. To be said at least, it’s not an official vacation. You need to be prepared and do some paper works before getting there.

It’s a sixth day’s trip and I will straight home for Chinese New Year’s and mid semester holiday after that. This means that I will back online on 22nd or 23rd of January. I know I have been neglecting Hot Shit Form Here and my readers these last few weeks (sorry about that), but I assure you that I will active again as soon as I am stepping into my holiday shoes. Till then, please feel free to watch this slideshow about my last vacation in Paris, France.

Thanks for being so understanding. See you again in a week!

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Bluecrystaldude

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Ghost and Election

Music Monday #2 >> Righteous Brothers - Unchained Melody >> Paris Hilton - Paris For President

I was wondering what the best fit is for my Music Monday. So, after doing some soul searching and mind blowing calculation, I found the solution for my dilemma. In coherence with the two most current event, Halloween (31st October) and US Election Day (4th November), I decided to choose two entirely different songs. My first song is Righteous Brothers – Unchained Melody in Ghost soundtrack. Have you seen the movie? It’s about her fiancé’s soul that trapped as a ghost and has to warn his fiancé about the danger she is in. Fiancé, death, ghost and of course, here come the Halloween, are you catching my drift? Anyway, it’s dated back in 1990, which thankfully, I was already born. Love the movie, love the music.

My second choice is Paris for President! No, you read it correctly. I wonder what will happen when we all vote in favor of Paris Hilton as President, “your commander in bikini”? But I must admit, her ‘policies’ does sound promising. That being said, relaying on Paris for the country and world in her hand is purely stupid thing to do. You betcha! It’s hot.

Listen to Paris for President here:

Paris for President!
At the pomp chillin’ with the martini
Paris for President!
Your commander in bikini
Let me tell you ’bout my policy
To stop the player hating on the USA
Initialize nuclear nonproliferation and ratify Kyoto today
You can ride in the motorcade in my hybrid pink escalade

Paris for president!
Not another oldie cliché
Paris for president!
You can get married if you're straight or if you're gay

If you're gonna put lipstick on a pig
Make sure that it matches your skin tone
You can trust me with my finger on the button
Is a vocabulary don't
Trading in the cabinet for a walk in closet
Hey! (hey!)

Paris for president!
America should put me in charge
Paris for president!
Look at bush it can't be that hard

Simon Cowell he might be a little mean
But when his old kicked his bucket
I'll put him the courts to clean,
Then I'll paint the white house pink and move it to Malibu

Paris for president!
A proponent of clean energy
Paris for president!
The real maverick in D.C

Water boarding is torture and global warming is totally not hot
I'll make a department called the fashion police,
Boost the economy with all of the new jobs
Make over lady liberty in Donna, Tommy and Calvin Klein
Hey!

Paris for president!
Get your cute little butt out there and vote,
Paris for president!
Dispensing beauty tips and hopes

Paris for president...
Hey!
Paris for president...
Hey!

Watch the video of Paris for President:


Click below to hear song of Righteous Brothers - Unchained Melody:


Watch the video of the soundtrack Ghost:

Current Participants of Music Monday (please do not add your link as you wish. Unrelated links will be deleted):

Do you like my choice this week? Can't wait to see the result of the election! See you guys next week!

First Commenter:

Bluecrystaldude

Less Word Wednesday #6

If you are easily offended, don't click Continue Reading. Viewer discretion is advised - there are lots of unpleasant pictures followed by.

He was seen equipped with a rock, a construction site pole and a healthy looking ass

A British tourist has been arrested after swimming naked in the moat of Japan’s Imperial Palace. The man was said to have swum the moat before scaling the Tokyo palace’s 25ft wall. Television footage showed him getting out of the water at one point and chasing police with a rock and a construction site pole.

Looking for his 'dropped bag'

He then went back to the murky water and swam across to the other side of the moat, climbing up the 25ft stone wall of the palace. He was caught by two policemen after a chase that media said lasted for an hour and a half.

The palace, which has housed the Japanese Imperial Family for centuries, is seen as sacred ground and is rarely opened to the public except for official tours, and a large security force protects it from intruders.

Passers-by gathered around the moat to watch the chase, giggling and taking photos on mobile phones. Police said it was unclear what his motives were, although he is said to have dropped a bag in the water.

Fiercely marching towards the crowds - you need a lot of self confidence to do it!

The man, possibly in his forties, first said he was Spanish but later said he was a Briton living in Spain, police said. We are checking on his mental condition now,' a police spokesman said. The man was later released without charge.

The palace, in the heart of Tokyo and home to Japan's emperor and empress, is surrounded by 12 moats running four miles in all. Police said the emperor was in the palace, but it was unlikely he saw the nude swimmer in the moat.

Just before he took off his boxer off

What is up with all these tourists who think that skinny dipping in public area is a trilled thing to does? When I was in Paris, I saw a man who stirred what else a ‘cozy’ area (it was a red district, but during the day, people just hanging out at the café slipping teas and coffees) ran naked and jump into one of the fountains there (picture above). It just a shallow pond, but that was not the point. Only after his friends took his pictures, he wears his bath robe back. Need to remind you, it was like 15 degree Celsius on that day. Sigh, he must a man with a hot body (literally).

With his very supportive friends

Just a reminder, when you are travelling abroad, please keep your pants intact with you all the time, especially when you are in public areas. In some part of the world, this kind of behavior may be taken as an entertainment, but others may feel that you are offending their culture. Have a nice day!

Bluecrystaldude

Paris - The Signs (Volume 1)

I have dragging this post (and few posts to come) for quite sometimes. I am not sure whether it was suitable for general viewing. Few of my readers may be offended by it and think I am just like to brag about my family. So, if you're easily offended by people experiences, please don't continue reading. This post may contain excessively high dose of self experiences, family wealth and personal health and easily be considered as highly inappropriate for this everything-is-high-price year reading material. You have been warned.

Paris, why it sound so special? I actually opposed the idea to go here at first time. I prefer to go London, which my family went for summer holiday last year (which is a perfect place for shopaholic a dedicated shopper like me). Plus, not one of us know a single word of French, except Bonjour and café. How do you want to enjoy your holiday if you can’t understand their people? We actually planned to go to Switzerland, but considering the influx of people when the Euro starts, we changed it to Paris.

There are many signs that against us for this trip. We have to change the flight’s ticket more than twice, three accidents and broken ankle, limped and stitches.

The chronology of those bad signs

• My little brother has a short semester – he later decided not to follow us
• Changed the flight date as I have to fly alone on the different flight (my dad, mom and big brother already bought their tickets before me, as I don’t know when will my exam finish) – I don’t really like the idea of arriving to a country that I don’t understand a damn word, alone
• Changed the apartment booking
• My big brother changed his flight date as he just knows that he has examination the day of departure – he will fly a day later than us
• My mom broke her ankle when she missed step and fall
• I had a small accident (my first car accident) – scratched my mom’s car
• My brother received a notice that he supposed to be exam will be postponed two weeks after we back to Malaysia – he decided not change his flight (which we thanked later)
• We received an email detailing our apartment which was on the sixth floor. Oh, and the apartment doesn’t has a lift - a fact that was conveniently left untold by the owner
• There was news about public transportation’s strikes in France
• My brother had a bad accident a day before our flight
• My limped and stitched brother flies alone to Paris
  

My mom sure that those were signs that we shouldn’t go to Paris. Nevertheless, we continue our plan. We arrived at Aeroport Charles de Gaulle after 13 hours of flight. The weather was bad until the belt sign was on for most of our flight. My seat was next to a 5 or 6 years-old boy, who father is a MAS worker – most probably an engineer or pilot (handsomely build and soft spoken). The entire stewardesses were very friendly with his father. I even saw some of them flirting with him! Meanwhile, his wife was very nice with me. We had a few chat and about where have we been for holidays – she said the most interesting place she had been was to Rome, Italy. Although at first she assumed that I was a student in Paris and fly alone as my mom and dad were at the front row. My brother arrived safely a day after.

Some of the pictures (which I release step by step considering all 3000 plus pictures. lol). As always, let the page fully loaded first before click the pictures. It will be a slideshow pictures. Just click Next and Prev button at the left or right of the slideshow. Enjoy..

Other bad incidents during past holiday:

• My grandmother, last year, at the time she was 70-years-old, broke one of her ribcage during her Hajj at Mecca with my parents. She didn't noticed it until her back to Malaysia, has a prolonged fever, chest pained and later, x-ray showed the broken bone.
• Few years back, my grandmother also kicked by a kangaroo during a zoo walking in Queensland. Her doesn't suffer from any injuries but that incident caught by taped :)
• My brother nearly pick pocketed on the tube in London during last year summer vacation. That fella already open his bag. Thank God he noticed.
• One of my mother trolley bags (oh my, I wonder sometimes why she always carry lots of bags during holiday) slide out from one of Turkey's train last couple years. Luckily, she managed to bring it inside the train just in the time for its departure.
  

How about your holiday? Has any mishap but interesting incident happen? Share with us! Oh, and do let me know if you want to the next post, Paris - The First Impression? Enjoy the pictures (it is a slideshow, just click next and previous button when it's loaded. If you can't refresh your page. You could always tell me if you still can't see the pictures. But please let the page fully loaded first :)

Bluecrystaldude

Forgive My French

I Can't Hear You from My Little Black Pot

Language is the most interesting (and damn hard) subject to learn. At a "tender" age of 20, I already learn several languages such as English, Arabic and the latest is French. And of course, there is my mother tongue (why they don't call it father tongue?) language which is Bahasa Melayu (or Malay language or Bahasa Malaysia. Whichever they call it now). I always wanted to write a post in Malay but I am not confident enough with my ability to construct beautiful sentences that will captivate my readers (I never had an "A" for my Bahasa Melayu subject in school). So, just hope that the day will come soon.

Language may sometimes misinterpreted. The ability to diagnose a language must be achieved with a full consideration of its culture and where the place of language is spoken. How we portraits our ideas into words, to make a sentence just to form an understandable argument. It's a hard process to learn a new language. Sometimes, your tongue just couldn't handle it. As my Indian friend once said, we need a short tongue to learn Malay language, a shorter one to learn English, and a longer one to learn Tamil's. Can anyone tells me how to grow your tongue LONGER?

So, in the midst of my struggling to learn French, I flip up my ultimate guide into the French language, which is The Complete Idiot's Guide to Learning French On Your Own, and it stated that there are ten reasons only why you should learn French:

1. You love Colette's romance novels.
2. You'd like to root for the Montréal Canadiens in French.
3. You loved Les Misérables so much that you decided to read the original version in its entirety—all 600 plus pages.
4. You want to avoid ordering francs with mustard and sauerkraut.
5. You never know when you're going to run into Catherine Deneuve.
6. You want to impress your date at a French restaurant.
7. You love French movies but find the subtitles too distracting.
8. They won't let you onto the topless beach in Martinique without it.
9. Two words: French Fries.
10. You want to meet St. Exupéry's “Little Prince.”

Note: I only know what the heck he's talking about start from the number 6 and higher. So, which one is my reason for learning French? It's not even there! I wanted to learn French because of its beauty and for the art of the language itself. I wanted to feel good, sexy and could make anyone drooling in my presence. It's the same feeling when you wish to learn British accent so that your partner will mistakenly think that you're as hot and as sexy as Jude Law. Or when you have the urge to learn Chinese so that you will be master in kungfu. Or when you though that if you speak in Korean or Japanese, you will be automatically beautiful (without any clear gender line) and your partner will somehow become irresistible-dolly-cute.

Oh, and it may be because I will be having my short holiday there. I will be going to Paris for 10 days (or more) with my family. My flight will leave this Sunday, which means I have to go to Kuala Lumpur either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. I am not sure whether I will bring along my laptop, so just in case I am not, I just want to tell all my readers that I am won't be updating my blog until I am back to Malaysia.

This year has done plenty of good things for me. Nevertheless, when it comes to my study, it was one of the most busy, mind breaking, hormone building year. I am looking forward for the half of this 2008 year! Have a great week, and happy holiday everyone!!

à bientôt (so long),

Bluecrystaldude