The Little Things in Life

8/7/2019 The Little Things in Life

1/24


2/24

The Little Things in Li fe- Ditt y 1

The Little Things in Life


3/24

The Lit tle Things in Li fe- Ditt y 2

The Little Things in Life; a

Collection of Two Essays

By Melissa Ditty

Edited by: English 306.01


4/24

The Litt le Things in Life- Ditt y 3

CONTENTS

PART ONE:

I.

The Truth Behind Addiction 7-37Original; Edited by Todd Mckinney

Second Draft; Edited by Leigh Vorhees

Third Draft; Edited by Will (with Rubric)

Final Draft; by Melissa Ditty

PART TWO:

II. The Effects of Rescuing the Dot 38-87Original; Edited by Todd Mckinney

Second Draft; Edited by Leigh Vorhees

Third Draft; Edited by Krista

Fourth Draft; Edited by Austin

Final Draft; by Melissa Ditty


5/24

The Litt le Things in Life- Ditt y 4

PART ONE;THE TRUTH BEHIND THE ADDICTION


6/24

The Little Things in Li fe- Dit ty 30

Melissa Ditty

English 306

April, 24 2011

The Truth behind Addiction

One of the most addictive games, in my opinion, would have to be World of Warcraft

(WoW). This massively multiplayer online role playing game (MMORPG) was developed by

Blizzard Entertainment in 2004. Although, the game has been out for seven years, it still holds 62

percent of the worlds MMO players. With its latest expansion, Cataclysm, WoW has roughly 12

million subscribers worldwide (Wikipedia). My adventure with WoW didnt start until summer of

2007, when I entered the realm Demon Soul, for the first time. I am now on my fourth year of

WoW and on this date in 2011, all I have to show for my experience with WoW is the following.

I used to hate WoW because it took real life away from my friends. I loathed the monthly

subscription fee my friends paid to play a game instead of purchasing food to live on. However, my

true hate for WoW evolved from the way WoWdissconected people from the outside world. I

read on WoWaholics.org how the game was nothing more than an addiction and promoted

depressed individuals to sit all day in front of a computer. I couldnt understand the thrill my sister

had for playing a game where a character ran around mass murdering innocent non-violent pigs in

order to loot their tusks because another character requested her to. If I had requested her to go

outside and collect five feces samples from an animal (dog) that I renamed (Shaka Hound), Im not

so sure my real life request would go as well as the WoW avatars had. The pigs she killed had no

significance in her life, yet she shot arrows into them just to earn a necklace with a bloody fang on it


7/24


for her character to wear as a reward. The practice of this violence came off, to me, as inhumane

and brutal. She, however, let out a long sigh of relief to have killed twenty or so pigs. She gloated

to me about her ability to wear a bloody necklace for the statistical information written on the

item. I was stumped at her act of violence. The necklace turned out to be a reward that allowed her

to kill more pigs.

I remember one day in early summer when I was sitting at home as a bored college student

without classes to attend. My sister and I fought about how WoW was wasting her life, why I

didnt want to try the game and said horrible things to each other we didnt mean. She wanted me

to play WoW with her, but I was scared of the ramifications a WoW player endures After all, I had

read about players of the game who were trying to break their addiction to the game on

WoWDetox.com. I didnt want to be another statistic and I certainly had avoided all other

addictive habits to this point in life: smoking, drinking, drugs and etc. My sister had other plans for

my future however with her, You never know until you try it, and the you cant believe

everything you read on the internet, attitude. She told me that she knew I would like the game and

that it would give me something to do on my summer break, since the economy provided no part-

time seasonal jobs.

I had been on summer vacation for a month at the point of this fight and hadnt a single call

back for employment. I felt down on myself and began to believe that there was some part of me

employers didnt want working for them. Maybe I didnt have the right answer to question, I often

get upset when guilty people are let free of punishment. I guess I should have disagreed instead of

whatever I answered (each time was probably different. What person reads online applications

word for word anyway?)


8/24


The next day I was awakened at 4pm by my sister, who was about to leave for her serving

job at a local ice cream shop. She entered my room in great haste, slamming my door against the

wall and still upset from me saying horrible things to her the night before. She threw an index card

on my sleep covered face and said; just try it. After my morning grog disappeared I read the index

card to realize she had left me with the information to her World of Warcraft account. Feeling

already disconnected from the social world and unable to get a part-time job, I entered the

information in the computer and logged on World of Warcraft for the first time. I created a

character, picked its name and entered the unknown world. I was, in theory, birthed from nowhere

cyberspace into this zone full of other people running around mass murdering worm looking

creatures. Avatars collected around a single elf looking character that remained stagnant in position

and had exclamation mark above his head. I could click on the elf, but he only responded by

sending me to kill the worm creatures and ask me to report back to him. Like a socially competent

person, I followed suit with the rest of the population. I collected worm eyes, turned them in and

before I knew it I, Tglimus, was a level 3 Blood Elf Hunter.

As I moved from quest to quest, I tried to convince myself of the unethical patterns I had

been practicing and how the game was for losers. Yet, I kept on running around murdering animals

and other people with my arrows. I ran bloody heads to the multiple quest giving characters like

everyone else and received rewards of cash, money and items to wear. When my sister came home,

she found me playing. She and I talked through the practices of the game and I tried to convince her

that I wasnt having fun playing the game. Like all nice sisters, she laughed and shrugged me off

with the, if you want to play tomorrow while Im at work, you can.


9/24


I did just that. I entered my second day of World of Warcraft out of quests and level ten.

Unsure of what to do I stood outside what seemed to be a big city and read the quest telling me to

go to a new place. There was only one problem, I had no idea how to GPS myself to this new

location. So I stood outside this city pondering what to do when a screen popped up from nowhere

asking me if I wanted to duel. I accepted and continued to stand in the same place. Out of nowhere

the numbers, 3, 2 and 1, appeared on my screen and my health started decreasing. I was being

attacked by another player in a city. I didnt know, at the time that was possible, so I ran away in

panic. A few seconds later I was bowing and my chat box read, Sworth has defeated Tglimus in a

duel. Then I received a message in my chat box from another player stating, Good duel. I

replied, I have no idea what Im doing.

This is how I met Sworth, my first WoW friend and joined my first guild. I had no idea

what to expect of this guild I had joined. I knew that guilds were collections of people working

together for communal betterment of the guild, but even with this thought, I was unsure how to

act in the guild. Unfortunately for me, I was unable to figure out the inner workings of a guild

because my membership lasted only a few days. I was kicked out of the guild for taking one gold

from the guildsbank that I had deposited the day before. I realize now that I had committed a guild

offense, but at the time I had no clue what I was doing. I spent the next ten levels without a guild

and questing with my new friend, Sworth. As we quested, we chatted about different things and I

began to understand this new world better. I eventually made more friends and gained more levels

of experience in the game.

The World of Warcraft is a brutal one. By my tenth level, I killed more people, animals and

animal-people then I could count. I collected: heads, gizzards, wings, slime, teeth, hooves, feces,


10/24

The Litt le Things in Life- Di tty 34

water and even baby animals. I literally had killed everything for my own betterment. I, like my

sister had, wanted the bloody fang necklace. I had traveled through forests with walking trees, been

attacked by zombies, killed spiders bigger than my character, swam in an ocean without getting wet

and even explored a catacomb all in one week of experience. The best part of it all was that I had

completed most of those feats with little help from other players.

A week later I was fed up with guild-hopping. No guild had what I looked for and Sworth

hopped between six or seven different guilds. By my 26th level of the 70 levels I was to complete on

my character, I considered myself well versed in the WoW. I ran to a local major city, collected

other player signatures and created my own guild The Cost of Silence. Upon guild creation, I

gathered all the people I met in the game and asked them to join. My guild thrived with over 100

members by the time my character leveled to 27.

At the time, I thought I was a successful guild leader. I had created rules, designed a guild

crest, and managed to keep the guild peace for about a week. After that week, however, I found

myself becoming bitter at some guild members and created rules to spite them. I even created a

rule that prevented guild members from killing any of the cat critters (level one animals that are

harmless) and another rule preventing annoying teenage guild members from raving havoc on other

guild members. This first guild of mine was clearly a dictatorship that allowed for absolutely

nothing to be chatted about that I was not okay with. I realize now just how much of a prude I was,

but at that time I just removed guild members ranks without thinking about the ramifications of my

actions.

After a month, my guild had more drama then a high school at midterm time and everyone

was fighting. I found myself disliking this guild I created and wanted out. I talked to my officers and


11/24


told them I was moving my highest level character to my sisters guild and transferring the leader

position to one of my alternate characters. This is not how the guild leader shift went, however. I

logged on my alternate character only to receive a long message from officer telling me that he was

a power hungry mutant and was keeping my guild. (Well more or less.) His actual words were

more of I like having power in the guild and I want to keep the guild.

I was again alone in the World of Warcraft and found myself guild-hopping until my sisters

guild took me in. I wasnt connected to her guild like she was and I refused to speak unless spoken

to. I didnt want to anger anyone and I didnt want anyone to think I was a noob. If anyone in her

guild knew I was a new player (noob), they would have attacked me quicker than sharks to a drop

of blood in ocean. I realized how much I still had to learn and I learned the hard way that this guild

my sister brought me into was way more serious about the game than I was about the actual content

of the game. They liked to kill monsters and collect loot to make the guild better. I liked to chat

about life and get questing advice. At this point I was more into the social aspect of World of

Warcraft more so than beating in the faces of new players and enemy characters.

In September of 2008, a year into my World of Warcraft experience, I created the guild

Assimilated by Horde (ABH). ABH was founded by the players I got along with in my first guild

and new people my sister found that werent as serious as her guild liked WoW players to be.

After much contemplation on why my old guild failed, I entered ABH with higher hopes and new

goals. I would be queen Tglimus and the guild members that werent in my royal ranks would be

the minions or so I thought until I actually got to know my fellow guild members.

A month after ABH creation, I was introduced to a player named Zenlode. My sister had

found him being a social butterfly in a city general chat looking for a guild. She asked him to join


12/24

The Litt le Things in Life- Di tty 36

and the next thing I know I found myself talking to him about guild things and later about real life.

As it turned out, Zenlode was a tell it like it is kind of guy and called me out on my prudish

nature. We talked a lot and he would help me get through guild issues without losing my whole

guild member list. A few months after first meeting Zenlode, he invited his friend Bunnymonster

to join the guild, she invited her friends and ABH was growing in great numbers each day. The

more serious ABH became some members, who disagreed with ABH policy, left to start their own

guild. These ex-guild members spread rumors about higher ranked ABH members and turned ABH

friends into enemies. As those members left, so did I from WoW. I found myself too involved in a

game that was virtually uncontrollable.

I disowned my character on WoW for a few months, but I still talked to my friends outside

of the game. We discussed love, life, war, drugs, cats, and etc. Some of my guild members from

Assimilated by Horde are the best friends I have ever had in my life. These people, who live miles

away, have been there for me when my local college friends were not able to help. It is true that

WoW takes away from real life, but it replaces it with a new real life with people that one would

have otherwise never met.

This is the glory of WoW. I determined the interaction that I had with other characters on

the realm. I built friendships in a fake world, which I was able to transcend into the real world. The

friends that I made in the game were there for me when I logged in, but dont always disappear

when you log out. They arent like the fake friends I made in high school that I spent eight hours a

day for four years with, only to leave behind for college. My high school friends developed lives.

Overtime common high school interests grew distant and friendships dwindled. The same could

happen with my WoW friends, but that is yet to be seen and unpredictable.


13/24


After four years of collecting millions of bloody fangs I realized that WoW, in theory, was

supposed to be about the craft of war. This how many people fall into the addiction; they wanted to

be the best player and have the best gear. Some WoW players did whatever, to whomever as long

as they attained the best.

To me, WoW is less about gear, but more about making friends in guilds and attaining

accomplishments with those people. The game that I hated has taught me more about myself and

the world than any real life friend that I have made. I have been able to take the leadership skills I

learned in game and apply them to my real life. This is why no matter how many times in the last

four years I have tried to quit the game I havent been able to. Maybe this is what all things in life

boil down to; becoming so worthwhile that quitting becomes too difficult. Sounds like an addiction

doesnt it? I suppose one could call it addiction, but would have to then call hanging out with their

friends an addiction as well.

Although some World of Warcraft players are antisocial basement dwellers, the stereotype

does not fit the majority. Some people, myself included, learn more about the social norms of the

world in game than from real life. If I mess up the social norms I change my characters name;

problem solved. After placing myself into a game I once hated, I was able to develop an

understanding about the addiction aspect of the game. With a little self control one can easily

monitor their time in and out of game; just as one does by turning on and off an Xbox or closes an

internet browser. The addiction isnt the game. The truth about the addiction is that humans are

creatures that require social interaction. The ability to interact as a social being in game is what

makes WoW so addictive and interesting. One never knows whats in store around the next

mountain.


14/24

The Litt le Things in Li fe- Dit ty 38

PART TWO;THE EFFECTS OF RESCUING THE DOT


15/24

Ditty-The Effects of Rescuing the Dot-79

Melissa Ditty

English 306.01

27, April 2011

The Effects of Rescuing the Dot

I. The storyIn the winter of 2010, I adopted my first pet of my adult life from an Animal Shelter. The

animal was a young adult cat who the shelter named Carla. (I would later name her Dot.) While I

cant explain how the unity happened exactly, I am aware that this fuzzy little brat chose me. There

was a strange correlation between this cat and myself that, after one look, sparked me to walk

through the rest of Petsmart thinking about her nonstop. Out of all the trips I had made to Petsmart

and pets I had ever owned, I had never felt the same connection to them as I had with this long

haired grey cat.

This specific trip to Petsmart resulted from a failed normal Thanksgiving Day tradition. My

father had surgery and was unable to eat a big meal of turkey and potatoes, so my family decided

that the best course of action was just to cancel Thanksgiving for one year. My sister and I were

both students of Ball State University at the time and lived closer to each other than either of us

lived to our parents. After chatting online over World of Warcraft we decided that we would

spend the holiday with each other and fine dining on Taco Bell, Pizza Hut and McDonalds.

My sister and Is get togethers were often predictable in nature. One of us would drive to the

others house. Whoever didnt make that long drive would drive to Meijer, Petsmart, and

anywhere else in town we decided to go. Im not much of a window shopper or a shopper (period),

but my sister is. She always had to look at everything in a store, in case there was something she


16/24


needed, but had forgotten to write down. She would debate over which shade of grey mouse toy

was the best for her cat for more than an hour before deciding to purchase the purple one.

I only ever went with her to Petsmart and, prior to this day, had only ever walked out with

toys for my parents cats. Her hour long debate over a toy mouse, on this trip, left me with ample

time to weigh all the possible outcomes of bringing an animal into my life. An animal would be a

ten to fifteen year commitment and to this point, I had proven a failure to commit to anything for

more than a couple years. I had changed majors two times in four years, became and gave up being

a vegetarian in one year, I play multiple characters in games because I want to try the new in or

popular thing. One could even take a glance at my debit card ownership and quickly figure out

how uncommitted I am to keeping objects. Could I really take care of another living thing for its

entire life?

After picking a purple mouse for her already spoiled cats, my sister and I left Petsmart and

returned to my apartment. I cant have a cat, mom and dad would kill me, I responded to my

sisters, You know you wanted that cat. I could tell because you kept walkin over and petting it. It

could die in that shelter in a couple days. Thirty minutes after leaving, I arrived back at Petsmart,

located a Petsmart employee, and before I knew what was happening I was holding the scared grey

and long haired cat. A silent little beast, whose paw hugged my arm and purred soft breaths to be

out of her metal bar boxed in life.

At the time of adoption I knew that my cat was from a kill animal shelter, although, I had no

idea at the time what that fully meant. According to the Humane Society, most animal shelters

have no set time limit for holding an animal. In the vast majority of shelters, decisions about

adoption and euthanasia are based on factors that include the temperament and health of the animal,


17/24

Ditty-The Effects of Rescuing the Dot-81and the space and resources available to humanely house and properly care for the animal. They

also, recommendthat shelters hold stray animals for a minimum of five operating days (Humane

Society). Ive had a loaf of bread for a month before. How could they only allow a living creature

only five days?

A few weeks after adopting my cat a friend shared with me how barbaric the people working at

these shelters were. They sent me the videos of shelters shoving many cats in a box where two

shelter workers asphyxiated the cats with carbon monoxide or euthanized the cats using things

called Heart-Sticks. I can only imagine how painful it must be to be electrocuted straight in the

heart, let alone by a human being you placed full trust in. Simply put the humane euthanasia that

shelters, like the one where I got my cat, claimed to do was actually just translated to (in my

opinion) kill by any means possible. I was especially appalled by an animal shelter in North Carolina

that posted a video of how they deal with animal control ("Davie's Law/ Humane Euthanasia in

NC Animal Shelters"). I am sure these people have to appreciate life, the way they threw five to ten

puppies or dogs into a box before filling it with toxic gas like a puppy concentration camp

punishment.

II. The effects of the causeGrowing up as a child, I was taught to do the right thing; taught that if we help out the

community we will be paid back in some sort of fantasized afterlife. Animals had feelings, not quite

like human feelings, but they were to be treated as living breathing creatures nonetheless. This is

possibly why I was driven to figure out some way to help more animals than just my one adopted

cat. I tried to convince my parents into allowing me to adopt many cats, but the odds of that

happening were nonexistent. I spent the next few months after adopting my cat researching


18/24


different rescues and trying to figure out a way that I could help give back to the shelter that gave

me a life time companion. In a long drawn out period of time I found nothing more than the same

answers replicated or worded different on every website. No shelter, besides the Humane Society

of the United States, admitted in their about sections to being a kill shelter. This struck me as odd

because all the shelters that were no kill, such as Animal Rescue Fund of Muncie and Action for

Animals of Muncie, stated there were No kill.

My research continued for months until I found a current news website looking for someone to

write on cat rescue. I eagerly submitted an application with writing examples and was sure that I

could not only give back to a cause that changed my life, but could also pave way for my future

writing career and generate a little self revenue. Although, I admit that the job paid less than a kids

lemonade stand, I earned a total of twenty-five dollars for the entire time I wrote for

Examiner.com.

After my second month of writing, I began to realize that the job was never about the money,

nor was it about fulfilling my communal obligation. It was about trying to help the animals because

they could not and cannot help themselves. For this reason on Wednesday of every week I would

post Crazy Kitty Wednesday, a column devoted only to promote available adoptable cats. While

this article would not pay the one dollar I got for posting (up to five dollars a week), I wanted to

help local shelters promote their cats that needed adoption.

I spent the beginning of my summer vacation in 2010 interviewing Animal Shelters in my local

area. I wanted to help more; I wanted to be involved. I wanted to know how shelters ran and what

I could give to the shelter beyond donations. The shelters were not as open to me as I was to them.

Most of the shelters gave me no response; this is excluding Action for Animals where a woman


19/24


named Teresa wrote me an email about what volunteers do at shelters and ways that people can

help. It was a resourceful letter that not only said I could help by food and money donations, but by

donating my time and talents (writing) as well. Although I was hoping for feedback from multiple

shelters, the letter was the kick I needed to jumpstart more topics for more articles.

III. Help not wantedAfter writing for months on cat rescue, I again ran out of ideas for topics. I had written about

adoption, local shelters, why people should adopt, the problems that can arise in adoption,

adopting my cat and just about anything I could find online about cat rescue. I had even created a

Facebook page (Ditty2), a twitter page, and emailed several of the local Indiana Animal Rescues. I

sent out business cards with letters asking people in the community to contact me with stories.

I received very little back from the community. Maybe they viewed me as a scam writer. Some

may have even thought I was wasting their time with insignificant trivial matters. Whatever their

thinking, I wasnt taken seriously. I had only two animal rescues respond , both were by email and

were the same shelters from before. One email was from Action for Animals and the other was

from Muncie Animal Rescue Fund (ARF). I corresponded with both shelters for several weeks

asking questions and collecting stories. I even took a trip to ARF where I interviewed Dana Salkosk.

She walked me through ARFs Catty Shack house and answered my questions. I told her about my

experience with adopting a cat at Petsmart. She explained to me that this happens with many

animal adoption parents. The adoptive parent walks in wanting one kind of animal, but ends up

leaving with another. From what I was able to understand, a person may walk into a shelter

wanting an orange tabby, but walk out of the shelter with a Great Dane. The idea could also mean


20/24


that a person walks into a shelter wanting an orange short-haired tabby cat and leaving with a long

haired black cat.

I had never walked into an animal rescue facility prior to this interview. Looking back I realize

how much I assumed about animal rescues. My mother had always told me that the rescues were

flea infested diseased places where animals were euthanized if their stay was too long. She also told

me, in my childhood days onto adulthood, that I could never handle an animal rescue because many

of the shelters kill unwanted animals. It was, after all, their job to control the animal populations.

In my article House in Indiana devoted to cat rescue, I discuss my interview I had with Salkosk at

ARF. This interview not only gave me a subject to write about, but it also allowed me to question

some of the logic about shelters pressed on me by my peers. I write, As Salkoski walked me

through the house (Catty Shack) she began telling me stories of how the cats came into their

possession. As she spoke I began to realize that preconception of people dumping off unwanted

animals was a great misconception. Most of the cats ofARF ended up at the Catty Shack because of

family financial obligations, health issues (much of the time a simple one time medication), they

were born at ARF, or their owners passed away.

After the interview with Salkosk of ARF was formally over, I asked how I could help her shelter

and found out that unless I wanted to donate money or time at the shelter, they would appreciate

any help they could get. However, this was contradicted a month later when I did a follow up

interview of a volunteer at ARF (name withheld for her benefit) I was told to remove my article by

that volunteer because it falsified what she said.Since I didnt have a voice recording, I had to

remove the article. Instead of appreciating that a positive article was created to promote the

betterment of animals at a shelter and showing the positives of volunteering at an animal rescue
http://www.munciearf.com/http://www.munciearf.com/http://www.munciearf.com/http://www.munciearf.com/http://www.munciearf.com/


21/24


facility, this volunteer was more worried that I misquoted her (unknown by me) about something

in the article.

What I concluded from my writing about animal rescue was that while animal shelters

seemingly want supply donations, money donation, animal fosters and time donations. They do not

(in the case of ARF) want people to write about the happenings of their facility, unless of course,

you are a famous news outlet such as FOX or the less worldwide Star Press, who both recently

covered the flooding of their shelter (Mc Cl ur e) .

My animal shelter writing career was ended quickly by a lack of response from local animal

shelters. I had run out of things to say and felt that I was writing the same thing over and over

again. Without discussing the animal adoption world with people that cared about the animals, I

had nothing new or fresh to create. What it all boils down to is that unless you are donating

something the shelter can physically use, their rule is: Help Unwanted.

IV. La Fine of the animal shelterWriting about animal rescue, if it gave me nothing else, allowed me to dive into a new world

where a living thing has no say in its treatment. It would be silly to think that an animal chooses to

be abandoned into a humanistic world where its survival instincts arent enough to fend off

malicious humans. It allowed me to realize that I saved my cats life. Without me, my cat could

have been euthanized (humanely or inhumanely). Most likely, in my opinion based on my research,

my cat would have been shoved in a metal box with twenty other cats scratching to get out and

fighting with other cats. After all the other cats were placed in the box, the lid would close and she

would have been surrounded by total blackness. The blackness would then steal her ability to


22/24


breath and cause her, and the other cats, to stop moving. Eventually she would essentially

asphyxiate, thrown onto a mound of other dead animals and left to rot in a nearby landfill.

This is the cruel reality we live in. The worst part is the lack of remorse on the shelter workers

face, the quotidian front the faces of these employees express. Their actions; as if it is normal to

throw a two month old puppy into its death like it was the packaging to a Big Mac from

McDonalds. Luckily, my cat will never have to suffer from anything beyond being chased around

my apartment and laundry basket captures. Its hard to believe a little over a year ago I couldnt

imagine a life caring for another living thing and now I cant imagine my life without it. I hear from

friend and read all around the internet that this is how most animal-owner relationships are. As silly

and crazy cat lady as it sounds, adopting my cat from a shelter filled a void in me somehow. My cat

has taught me more about myself than any one person ever has. I realize how silly this sounds and

unless you have adopted an animal in that time of your life when you are lost, I doubt you

understand. I hope however, to be proved wrong in thinking this.


23/24


Citation

"Common Questions about Animal Shelters." The Humane Society of the United States, 26 10

2009. Web. 14 Apr 2011.

.

"Davie's Law/ Humane Euthanasia in NC Animal Shelters." Youtube. Web. 14 Apr 2011.

.

Ditty, Melissa. "House in Indiana Devoted to Cat Rescue." (2010): n. pag. Web. 8 Apr 2011.

.

Ditty, Melissa. "Indiana Cat Rescue Examiner." Web. 8 Apr 2011.

.

McClure, Vanessa . "Muncie Animal Rescue Fund ready to re-open after flood

damage." Volunteers and donations help ARF open doors sooner than expected (2011):

Web. 8 Apr 2011.

.


24/24

The Little Things in Life

Documents

Transcript of The Little Things in Life