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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

my shirt was made in China

Work, I need to work. At least the kind that brings in money so I don't starve to death (tell that to the two flat bread things I ate for dinner). I stared at job adverts all day, sent out a few resumes and now I'm concentrating on setting a healthy example of a full night's rest for my lovely little dog, Buckley. Of course, he's currently in the bathroom, trying to cool down on the floor.

Thinking about social responsibility. How we all conveniently forget that we shop at the Gap, or Old Navy (where most of the stuff is made in Malaysia, I think) and Wal-mart where half of their stuff is made in China. Clothes, strictly speaking.

One thing that bothers me the most is my beautiful camera was made in Malaysia. I hope who made it, got paid half decently for it.

Came across some acting jobs (who knows what I google when I'm bored). Briefly wondered if I could be an actor, thought not as only character I can play is me. And even then might be pretty bad, depending on the day.

Crazy thoughts, trying to think of a place where I could buy Fair Trade tea and clothing. GAH!!

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