This is sort of surreal: I recently started reading the book, "Eighty Days" a true story about an around-the-world race between two women writers in 1889. I could hardly believe the picture when I turned the page and saw a portrait of Nellie Bly -one of those two women. Compare it to the snapshot of what I see in the mirror every morning and you'll understand why I was so surprised. (Also, please remember that 1889 is pretty much my ideal year in history.) Does anyone else find this a little eerie?