I think I've blogged before about the fact that I've always wanted to be a romance novelist...I usually tell a story about a silly "tell us about yourself" project that I had to do in high school that still lives on my bedroom door in the house where I grew up, on which I wrote: Dream Job: Romance Novelist. Well, thanks to Eric's iPhone, I can now share the proof with you!
There I am...17 years old. And there it is...my dream job.
17-year-old me would be "wicked stoked" right now.
Also, because I followed that 11th Commandment to the letter.
At least...I didn't date a lot of actors.
And I didn't *marry* an actor.
She'd also tell me I had to get back to work or risk having to become an economist or something.