Thursday, July 21, 2016

Bad Moon Rising

  My bad week almost culminated in choking on a piece of cheeseburger as I sang along to Oasis in the car. I suppose my son could've sued McDonald's or one of the Gallagher brothers had this happened. In my mind, it just proved how bad my week has been. 
  Now, it's not the serious kind of bad- there have been no deaths or serious maladies. It's been the stub your toe & it escalates kind of bad. There has been some good. I had one really fantastic date. Ok, that's the only good thing that happened. 
  The bad luck started with a bad second date (different guy from good date-good date was after bad, second date).  Second dates should go well, you'd think. I'll call him "Jimmyjohn". That's what my friend dubbed him because he actually has a name that is two first names together. Decide on a first name, right? I can't really talk, I had a stuffed gorilla when I was little named Harryjackblack. I liked all three names and couldn't decide on one . Anyway, we had a pretty decent first date. This time, we met up for a drink and then dinner. Things probably went south when I asked him if he would ever try eating human flesh. On my behalf, he had mentioned eating cow tongue. Naturally, this is a great segue into my question. Judging by the look on his face, I realized my mistake. I'd had a strong dirty martini, so I then yelled "Oh, c'mon, you know you'd be curious!" Apparently not. The date ended in a very awkward hug. My lips accidentally brushed against his in the release of the hug, so I'm sure he thought I was trying to kiss him. 
  A night or so later, I had my fabulous date. We're not going to speak of it-no jinxes. I woke up the next day happy  until I realized I couldn't find my debit card. My phone case has a card slot where I always keep it. It's been a little loose lately. The little voice in my head kept telling me to put it somewhere else or I'd lose it. That voice also kept telling me to eat large amounts of cheese, so I ignored it about both issues. Little voice was right (about the card, not the cheese). I figure it had to have been lost in the car, in my apartment, or at Sheetz. Not the end of the world. A quick call to the bank. My change purse had some cash in it for the toll road I hit driving to my good date. Then, I somehow lost my change purse. That involved spending my lunch getting money out of the bank. It was fine, I didn't have money to buy lunch. The bank told me they could've immediately issued me a new card had I come there instead of calling the customer service number. Great. I'll keep that in mind for next time. With my luck, there will be a next time. My dumb luck has taught me a lot. Prepare for car trouble- keep water, oil, blankets, etc with you at all times. Prepare for any issues at work by carrying in your purse-tampons,  pads, Excedrin, safety pins, Icy Hot. Prepare for heartbreak at all times- tissues, Florence & the Machine lyrics, wine, dead soul. 
  Money was an issue for the week. Big deal. Go to work and forget about your problems? Nope. Go to work and have an even worse week. I realized  it's a full moon and it's obviously  affecting customers in a very bad way.  
  On a happier note, I found my change purse, got my replacement card, and had a couple of days off. I pray my sanity makes it through the weekend. 

Monday, July 4, 2016

Happy birthday

  Twelve years ago, on July 4th, I thought I was having bladder trouble. I was eight months pregnant. During that last month, I had heard that this occurred. But, my issue was severe enough to warrant a pad to soak up the issue. "This last month is going to be rough" I thought. Little did I know, my water had been broken and was slowly leaking out. I was about to go into labor. 
  I spent the day at work at the bookstore, changing my pee pad regularly. Bob and I went out to dinner after work. Later that night, we stopped at the store to look at cribs. We had a month left to prepare for our little guy. Or so we thought. 
  Around midnight, we got home and I noticed a bit of blood in my urine. I told Bob that we should go to the hospital. 
  "Well, if you think it can't wait until morning", he replied. He was very nonchalant. I was scared. 
  "Yes, we have to go to make sure everything's ok." 
  Bob spent a lot of time with me at the doctor making sure things were ok. Needless to say, they always were. He and my doctor always got a good laugh at my expense. I tended to freak out a lot while pregnant. His hesitance to forgo sleep over this was evident. 
  When I walked into the emergency room, my "bladder issue" was in full force. I had to walk with my legs crossed to keep from soaking myself. We explained my bladder issue to the attendant. 
  "Yeah, you're in labor" he explained in a very bored manner. 
  I laughed.
  "No, that's impossible-we have a month left to go". 
  After being examined and having a second person tell me that labor was imminent, shock set in. We're we having this baby and we weren't ready. Bob and I stared into each other's eyes and burst into tears. Then, the labor pains started. All the pain I've ever felt could not even minutely compare to this pain. I gladly accepted any drugs they offered. I probably would've taken a crack pipe if it would've helped. Ladies, how do we do it? And, men, you have no idea. 
  After that it was the typical long wait. Bob's family traveled from WV. His dad watched my labor spikes on the monitor. I'm a badass with pain-I never show it. So, he was fascinated. 
  "Bob, look at that spike! She must be having a labor pain. Look at her, she's not even reacting!" 
  Finally, my body was ready to push this baby out. I was ready for that epidural. However, my epidural guy went to the wrong room. There were 14 other women delivering that same day. It was a shitshow. After much time and confusion, I got my epidural. Finally, the bliss. I couldn't feel a damn thing. They told me to push. I laughed the whole time because I was so numb & couldn't tell what I was doing. Next thing I knew, a baby was crying. His first action was to pee on the nurse. He's been making his mark on the world since. 
  I feel like this was yesterday. Now, his voice is deeper and he's almost a teenager. My only regret is that his dad isn't here. It was the three of us in the beginning. He's shed a lot of tears the past few nights over his dad. I hold him tight and tell him he's there, watching over him. 
  I've never loved anything as much as I love this boy. He's the best thing I've ever done with my life. This makes this the best day of the year, every year. Yes, I spoil him. But, he deserves it.  

Monday, June 20, 2016

Dead soul

  I haven't posted in forever. Basically, there's not much going on. Well, other than illness. I feel like I've been sick for the entirety of May. I got hand, foot and mouth disease. I blame children. It's a virus, so who knows why it's called a disease. V had it first and passed it onto me. You run a horrendous fever for two days. Fever is accompanied by the worst muscle pain you could ever feel, literally bringing tears. Then, your fingertips feel like you just touched a hot iron. That's because weird red dots are rising to the surface. Those also form in your nose and throat. Some on your face. Luckily, all this only lasts for a week. Once I finally shook that, I immediately got sick again. Some weird virus. Fever and confusion. Honestly, it could still be the same illness. No idea. The scariest thing is that it can affect your brain, which is what I feel like is happening. When I'm fevered, the confusion and disorientation is severe. I've dubbed it "fever haze". It's getting better day by day. I shouldn't complain- there's so much worse going on in the world. But, everything is relative and I hate this sickness. 
  In the midst of illness, I spent some time cruising the Russian's neighborhood, hoping to run into him. I blame the fever. We didn't have much in common and the relationship would never work. I think I was maybe missing him or missing having someone. 
  I've also concluded that love is dead. Me, the hopeless romantic. Sad really. I was watching The Town. Ben Affleck's character was trying to get his girlfriend to run away with him because he's a bank robber and Jon Hamm was hot on his trail. I watched this scene and thought, "Oh, that's such bullshit. Guys can't fall in love." I realize that I seriously believe men are incapable of being in love. Bizarre, because I've been in love and have been loved. But, now I feel it's dead. It's a different age. People used to ride trains all the time. Now, no one does. Men used to fall in love. Now, nothing. This is a sad commentary on my perspective. So, if you're a man and you know me and you're in love, give me a pep talk. I think I'm worthy of love. I just don't feel a man can or will give it. I think something inside me died. Is it better to have loved and lost and to become a dead soul? I can still fall for someone. I fight these feelings like a knight in battle. 
  I'm hoping my fever will subside and my soul will find what it's looking for. 

Saturday, April 30, 2016


  It was a show about Yetis that finally made me shave my legs. I was watching a show on the Science channel about the  mystery of the Dyatlov pass. These Russian students went on a camping trip in the Ural Mountains. Their dead bodies were found. No one knows how they died. Some had injuries similar to car crash victims. One was missing an eyeball, another a tongue. They referenced Yetis in a journal that was found. Fifty years later, a photo that one took was found showing a Yeti like figure in the background. Then, I thought, I need to shave. This is how my mind works. 
  I shaved part of one leg with cocoa butter. I have to be careful with soap. I have a sensitive lady area. It's prone to urinary tract and yeast infections. Just being in soapy water is problematic. I learned this at a very young age with Mr. Bubble bubble wash. I always envied scenes in movies where women were lounging in the tub, their private bits covered by bubbles, as they chatted with a friend in the room. If I did this, my vag would turn into something that looked like a clown trick at a kid's birthday party. You know how couples like to have hot, shower sex? Not here. Soap would give me an infection, I'm afraid of water getting into my eyes because I think of dragons, and I don't like to get my hair wet. I've tried it a few times. One time, with an ex, we tried. He accidentally poked my butt, thinking it was another place. I think I went into some kind of shock. I almost passed out and threw up at the same time. Shower sex is not for me. 
  When you become a parent, you never experience alone time in the bathroom. That's suddenly the time they HAVE to tell you something. Especially if you're pooping or in the shower. To be taking a bath and not have a kid or cat in my face is rare. 
 The cocoa butter gave a clean shave and the emollients left a soft residue. However, it was hard to get the hair out of the razor. That could also be because  my legs looked  like a middle eastern man's legs. It had been a while since I shaved. The cocoa butter and the hair formed these weird clumps that stuck to the sides of the tub. Gross. It was too much work, in the end. I would gladly go for some permanent hair removal on seventy-five percent of my body. One of the cruelest parts of being single is knowing you're only shaving because you're sick of your own hairiness. Or, hey when I wear these short sleeves I don't want to look like I'm hiding roadkill under my arms. No man to run his hands up and down these cactus legs. 

Thursday, April 14, 2016

April 14

  One day can change a life. It may be a marriage or a birth. Ours was a death. Life as we knew it changed. After much time, it was possible to go days without tears. But, those moments find you when you least expect it. Holidays are the worst. Dreams haunt us every night. I know when I smile that some twinkle has been stolen. When I see my boy in contemplation, I curse this day. He was robbed. The world was robbed of this man. But, anyone who knew him would agree that he would hate our tears. He tried to lighten every situation with his jokes and that gorgeous, dimpled smile. Bob, we miss you. Your boy is happy, just know that. It's my number one priority. I like to think you can see. He misses you. Your sisters and your mom miss you. The world misses you. You were taken too soon. Forgive our tears. We'll equal them with laughs in your honor. You were such a good man. 

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

My Last 10 Internet Searches

  Some people fear what's in their internet browsing history for fear it will be discovered. Porn is the most likely cause. My searches aren't salacious, just weird and time-wasting. Out of curiosity, I decided to see what my last searches were. Here they are with any explanation I may have.
  1. The Black Dahlia crime scene photos- I was watching Unsolved Mysteries (Dennis Farina edition) when they discussed the Black Dahlia case. It's a fascinating, unsolved murder involving dissection and blood draining. Being my morbid self, I decided I wanted to see the real crime scene photos. Supposedly, she was cut from ear to ear and her torso was cut in half. Unfortunately, the first site I went to had a pop up photo of someone's butthole. What a non sequitur, I thought. I think I shrieked and instantly left the site. So, that's on my browser. In the end, I did find some gruesome photos sans butthole. 
  2. David Krumholtz weight gain- You know this guy. He's in a ton of things, most notably the hit TV series Numbers. I love this guy. He's a great actor. I saw him in something recently and he had a noticeable weight gain. Concerned for him, I googled this issue. I guess he had thyroid cancer, seems to have beaten it, is married and has a baby. But, this is what I do with my time. 
  3. Symptoms of love addiction- I watch the Netlix series Love entirely in one day. Loved it. Written by Judd Apatow and starring Gillian Jacobs. Great show, watch it. Gillian's character, Mickey goes to love addiction rehab, and, to be honest, that group talk made me wonder if I'm a love addict. So, I googled it. Turns out, love addicts may have been abandoned early in life and try to find a knight in shining armor in their adult life. Ok, guess that fits. But, I think only years of therapy will cure that. 
  3. Jim Florentine images- I was watching Louie, when I heard a very familiar voice. I used to listen to a lot of Opie & Anthony in the morning during an hour long drive I used to make everyday. Comedian Jim Florentine was a regular guest. But, I wasn't familiar with what he looked like. I wondered if this man on Louie was him. Indeed it was. His character ended up trying to shit in the top of a toilet tank as Louie was puking, slipped, hit his head and died. Good episode. Now, I'm familiar with what he looks like. 
  5. Apple Watch- I got my tax return, so I dream of getting an Apple Watch. Prices have dropped, but I can't justify spending that much money on myself. 
  6. Nick Groff Ghost adventures departure- A member of the Ghost Adventures team, he now has his own show. This lead me to question why he left. Kind of vague. Maybe a falling out with Zac Bagins. Maybe the most pathetic of my searches. 
7. Head lice- My kid somehow contracted lice at school. I found out when he was staying with relatives. I never had it as a child, so I had no idea what to look for. There's also some kind of "super lice" going around. Not sure if he had that or not. All I know is that it took three treatments and lots of combing with the nit comb. It felt very primal, except I didn't eat the nits. It was a rough week. I slept in a shower cap the first night. He was offended, but I wasn't getting it. His cousin also got it. You know, like the flu, only itchier and much creepier. 
8. X-Men Apocalypse- I don't even remember why exactly. I think it was settling an argument with V. He didn't believe that Oscar Isaac, or Poe Dameron, was playing the villain. I know my actors, man. Especially the good ones. 
9. Scabies- After head lice, anything can happen. When my left arm started itching incessantly, I immediately thought I had scabies. Turns out from the pictures that I don't. 
10. Can a mother transmit syphillis through breastfeeding- I read a totally demented book called The Kingdom of Little Wounds. It's basically a fairy tale with syphillis. I was wondering if a character that's breastfeeding to transmit her disease to a baby. Turns out you are safe as long as you don't have oozing sores on your breasts. Good to know. 
  I'd love to say I do productive things with my time, but that would be a complete lie.  

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Ghost Adventures

  "Ghosting" can happen to anyone, but it's especially prevalent in the dating world. It's when someone you're communicating with, all of a sudden, stops communicating back. I've experienced a couple of cases of it very recently. 
  First, and the most perplexing, happened a couple of weeks ago. I was at work and noticed an attractive, dark haired guy in the store. He wasn't looking at anything in particular and always seemed to appear wherever I was. After work, I went to a going away get together for a friend from work. While there, I get a message on a dating site from the guy at the store. We strike up a good conversation and exchange phone numbers. We text the next day and he proceeded to ask me out for a drink that coming Monday. Normally, I wouldn't due to having my boy, but I worked early and figured I could fit in an hour to meet after work. Monday comes and suddenly he texts, cancelling, saying he's "coming down with an illness". Yeah, right. Whatever. I texted the next day, asking how his "illness" was. Nothing. I waited another day, then texted-"Must've been a fatal illness." Totally ghosted. Infuriating because he pursued me. In the end, I think he has a girlfriend. When you exchange phone numbers and you're phone is linked to Facebook, they show up in your suggested friends list. Naturally, I creeped on him. I happened to click on one of his female friends. Her profile declared she was in a relationship with him. Regardless of the true state of this relationship, I guess it's good I got ghosted. 
  I've had another ghosting which was more disappointing. I've been on quite a few dates with one guy over the past year. We get along really well. However, we only communicate via email due supposedly to his sleep habits. He works overnight. I'm skeptical, but not serious about the whole situation. We've kept up communication until recently. My emails have gone unanswered. Bummer because I lent him a book. 
  Guys seem so flaky. Is it so hard to be honest? Throw caution to the wind and send out a text saying you started seeing someone else. Or, hey, I'm not into this anymore. This is why, I think it would be great to start my own ghost hunting team. Just like the paranormal shows like Ghost Adventures, Ghost Hunters, and Paranormal State. But, I investigate ghosting phenomena of the dating world. I'm going to get a gelled up, muscular Axe body using guy to accompany me. We'll hunt down "ghosts", he'll get in their face and yell things like "Is there someone here?! Would you like to communicate with us?!" 
  We'll have all the special equipment like E.V.P. machines and Ouija boards. Maybe a couple of lockdown episodes. I want answers and my partner and I will get them. Wait until we bring in our medium. She'll have some insight. Her insight may be that I should devote my time to something more worthy like knitting or picking up garbage by the side of the road. The exorcism will surely work wonders. It involves a smudge stick, holy water, and the smashing of the ghost's cell phone. I'd watch the shit out of this show if I weren't the one coming up with it. 

Sunday, March 6, 2016


  I'm horrible at accepting compliments, but I love the shit out of them. My self-esteem is usually at the bottom of the river beside some mafia hits wearing cement shoes. Last night, I had a former co-worker ask if I was still blogging and then she said I was a good writer. My heart swelled. Of course, I doubt my writing and intelligence. I went on a strange day drinking date earlier in the week. My date told me I was adorable and intelligent. What??!!!! On a consistent basis, I feel like a dope. This may be why I seem to date men of higher than above average intelligence. My husband was top of the list with a Mensa-like IQ of over 140. Pretty much every guy since him has been on the higher spectrum of the intelligence level ( maybe even one or two fall into the "spectrum" category.) I've never felt on their level. This is a girl with average intelligence. Luckily, I have common sense, which is a damn, fine thing to have. But, I'm horrible at geography, math, and many other subjects. I can name actors and authors with astonishing clarity, however. Abilities that get you nowhere in life. I can answer Final Jeopardy questions correctly 90% of the time. And, I swept the shit out of the Russian history and Scarlet Johansen categories. 
  My drunken date said I was more well read than he was. This guy was very well read. A total turn on. Reading is my jam. I have a lot of friends who read more, so this surprised me. I feel like I don't read enough. 
  As far as writing, I'd love to do more. I'm lackadaisical and doubt my abilities. I have half of a screenplay finished, I rarely blog and this blank journal that's supposed to become a novel is empty. It's not that I don't have ambition. The doubts just plague me. I remember when I was in third grade, wanting to write a sequel to Charlotte's Web. My mom, who was oddly supportive of creative ventures and nothing else in my life, bought me a blank journal in which to write it. All was well with my first draft until kids at school rudely told me I couldn't write the sequel. Way to dash dreams, dudes. I finished one screenplay that I entered into Project Greenlight. I think only Bob read it. The contestants who were supposed to obviously didn't. You were to answer a questionnaire to ensure you did. They said I didn't have any female characters. There were actually two. Regardless, it was crap and it doesn't matter that I didn't progress to the next level. My current one isn't bad, by my standards. The question is- will I EVER finish it? 
  I would love to write a novel, but I'm terrified. I wish I could just grow a set and do it. 
  Thank you anyone who has ever read this blog and encouraged me. It means a lot. The feedback seems genuine and I appreciate it. Even if it's the only thing I write, it feeds my soul. 

Saturday, February 13, 2016


  Because he was always in such a sickly state, the Russian had an idea of what I would do if he died. My mourning would include wearing his shoes and too huge clothes. It's funny because I'm wearing them now after our breakup. It may be the freezing temperature outside or it may be melancholy. I'm going with the former. 
  The break was a long time coming. We shouldn't have gotten back together the first time. Our issues still existed- we never saw each other, his family didn't know about me, he had no idea what he was doing with his life, which caused him frustration. It's not a shock. I can't say bad things about him. He was a good guy. He treated me so well. At every meeting, he'd have a greeting card ready telling me how much he loved me. After we saw each other, he'd send text after text telling me how beautiful I looked. I can't say he was a dick or an asshole. If my friend, Brandi, asks to make his life a living hell, I'll have to tell her "no". Like I said, it wasn't a bad relationship. Age difference, cultural and physical distance did us in. In the end, he was upset, for the millionth time, over something with his parents. He informed me that we would " suspend our usual sweet talk, compliments and gifts for a while". But, that we weren't breaking up. This enraged me. What did this all have to do with me? I bided my time and didn't hear from him for two weeks. Of course, that didn't sit well and the rest is history. It's only fitting that today is his birthday. For some time, I felt sad. A seething anger like a toothache fuels me now. It makes me want to watch Red Dawn ( the original, not the remake) and yell "Wolverines!". Instead, I ate homemade chili and watched War and Peace. I haven't shed a tear. That's not what Wolverines do. I have gotten irrationally angry at sour cream, his choice of topping for pancakes and mashed potatoes. Also, I've made another foray into the online dating world. As usual, getting messages from lots of gems. I guess if your name looks like it would be Bubba and we would have nothing in common, send me a message! If you're attractive and you message me, I'll stare at the phone in surprise for you are the unicorn. 

Saturday, January 30, 2016

The Great Catnapping of 2016

  The other night was emotionally exhausting. I was in a possible breakup with the Russian (still not sure) and I thought V and I might have head lice (we don't). Both stories for another time. On top of it all, I had a long day at work. I pulled up to the apartment in the late evening and I see our indoor cat, Harrison, sitting on the sidewalk outside. Naturally, I freaked. After having our previous cat die, I can't let anything happen to this one. I can't put the boy through it. Immediately, I jump out of the car, leaving my purse and phone inside. It was a few days out from the big snow, so I was wearing these big, pink Hello Kitty rain boots. As soon as I get close to him, he takes off down the sidewalk. I had to run in these ridiculous boots. He ran about four houses down and up into a backyard. On my street, all the houses are up on a big hill. There I was, huffing and puffing, running after this cat. He wasn't going to evade me. Finally, I corner him in a backyard. Gradually, I get close and coax him into my arms. Judging by the growling, he wasn't thrilled with the situation. 
  He felt lighter, which gave me pause. What if it wasn't him? But, he was right outside the apartment. One sure way to tell was his tummy. When he walks, his tummy hangs down. I like to give it a jiggle when he walks by. So, there I was in a neighbor's backyard, feeling up a cat's stomach. It jiggled. It had to be Harrison. As fast as I could shuffle, I made it back to our apartment. 
  I had two doors to get through. Somehow, I made it through the front door. By the time I got to the door of our apartment, there was a lot of low growling and fidgeting. I yelled for Viggo and kicked the door with my foot. That's when I heard the meow from inside the apartment. 
  "V, is Harrison in there with you?" I yelled. 
  "Yeah, why?"
  "Oh, shit, don't open the door."
  That's when I got a good look at this cat's face. It was not Harrison. It looked absolutely terrified. As fast as I could, I opened the front door and let it go. Just in time because V came bounding out in the hallway. 
  "What's going on, Mom?"
  "I just accidentally stole someone's cat" I sheepishly answered. 
  I'm sure there's some kind of moral to this story, I'm at a loss for what it is. Maybe it's every cat has a doppelgänger or never assume a cat outside your residence is yours. Whatever it is, I felt like a supreme jackass. 

Monday, January 4, 2016

Kardashian blood money

  I'm ashamed to admit, I've contributed to the Kardashian empire. My love of fake lashes is to blame. Ulta sells their beauty products and I've been eyeing up their lashes for some time. But, I'm not a fan of the family. I think their rise to fame is without merit. Yes, they're beautiful women, but that fame stems from a sex tape. They have not garnered my respect, to say the least. I've been morally opposed to contributing to their dynasty of superficial indulgence. But, my morals are weird, much like Anton Chigurgh's in No Country For Old Men. Plus, it was a buy one get one half off sale. I'm no better simply because my quest was a vain one. This probably puts me on the same level. These lashes better look good.  
  It's kind of funny how deep-seated the hatred for the Kardashian family is. Kim Kardashian's book of selfies is constantly turned around in the bookstore so her face isn't showing. People normally do that to book of political figures. In their mind, it's an act of rebellion and erasure. I wish I had a dollar for everything I had to flip around Hilary Clinton or Donald Trump's books. It's not going to stop their book sales. Booksellers are as familiar with the back of the books by now as the fronts. 
  In the end, I guess I'm a little disappointed in myself. I wish I had strong, moral fortitude. Alas, I'm weak. 

Friday, January 1, 2016

New year

  Unlike most Americans, I'm going to refrain from too many New Years resolutions. Work has done me in, I'm on my period, and I think I caught a cold on top of my sinus infection. Energy and enthusiasm are almost non-existent. The most I've accomplished is attempting to cut down on dairy. I'll make it back to the gym when I don't feel like a George Romero character. I had an idea that I was going to be nicer to people. Then, I went to work and it was only an hour before I wished death upon someone. People that preach about love and kindness should work a day of retail. They would come to wish an asteroid would demolish the planet like I do after a day of work. People are so mean. It makes me give up on humanity. So, that attempt at a resolution failed. 
  I've considered trying to do 31 days of blogging this month. Laziness will probably nip that in the bud. Trying to quit swearing is a good idea that probably won't come to fruition. Give me one short drive and that'll be over. I caught myself yelling "cockdick" at someone while driving one day. I become like the bastard child of Travis Bickle and a Quentin Tartantino character in the car. 
    Meditation always comes to mind as something good to try, but I'm too lazy and impatient. Basically, I'm a lost cause. Oh, well.