Anyhow, I'm glad it's there, because now I know what time Ria has to wake up on June 20th, 2004, to beat the sunrise. I also know her ZIP code, which almost makes me feel like a stalker, except for the part about her being a figment of my imagination. I haven't felt this much like an intruder in the life of a person I was writing about since my high school project on Coleridge.