the idea      Nora clicks on a link marked "questions", and proceeds to bang out a 'new reply' on her keyboard.      grobanite bunny: Thought I'd post a thought I had while walking my dog this morning: wouldn't it be great if there was someone on tour with Josh to kind of report back to all of us everyday with news, and interesting tidbits, and mini interviews and things. They could take pictures and video feed and what not and post them here on the site… Just a thought. b u n n y      Feeling oddly satisfied, like she had accomplished some great feat, Nora surfed ever so nonchalantly through the board for about an hour before logging off the computer and heading home.      As Nora reached her town home, nestled on the outer perimeter of her complex, she fished the garage door opener out of the change slot in the center console and glided effortlessly into the cluttered garage. She drove her mom's old Volvo. It wasn't old per say, about five years, but it had belonged to her mother and that aspect alone made it feel as if it belonged to another lifetime. Their garage was cluttered with boxes of belongings and decorations, her father's tools and old appliances her father was convinced would work again. Nora had still yet to see the twenty-year-old blender do anything but sputter and smoke; yet it, and it's mouse eaten box, held a place of honor on a shelf in the garage.      Nora killed the ignition, gathered her bag and coat, though October she didn't really need it, and headed towards the door. She hit the button for the garage door, on the wall next to the backdoor, as she locked the car with the remote on her key chain. She opened the door that led into the kitchen, and was greeted by Rascal and his tennis ball. Nora sighed and tossed and saliva encrusted sphere into the living room. .:. back