birthday math

this year i turn 28...

i will be 4 times the age i was when i realized people have their own inner monologues.

i will be 4 times the age i was when i realized my own mortality.

i will be twice the age i was when i vowed i wouldn't ever forgive my dad.

i will be twice the age i was when i thought i couldn't be happy again.

i will have lived 3 years longer than i thought i would have.

i will have wondered for years at the curiosity that is other people.

i will have long since forgiven my dad for being human.

i will have accepted my mortality.

i will have found complete and utter happiness.

here's to many more.

meh

meh. work. home. dinner. bed.

right now that is my life. it's good though. i'm not complaining. but it doesn't make for interesting reading.

so.

meh.

invisible things...

... the tenuous strings of love.

... the explosive destruction of unfulfilled expectations.

... the heavy armor of solitude.

... the tightly wound chains of fear.

... the corrosive nature of broken trust.

life is full of unforeseen pot holes in the road. but we can't stop driving just because we hit one. we have to drive more carefully and watch for signs of them. but we can still enjoy the trip.

and it's much more fun when you aren't the only one in the car.

the silence of marriage

there is a silence that follows a marriage. a quietness that descends upon a couple like a fog kisses the dewy earth. clinging gently. a tangible sigh which caresses the cheek and alights upon the brow.

it is not a heavy silence. it is not ominous or foreboding. it does not sneak in to your waking world with stealth. it does not disrupt your thoughts. it does not wind it's way into your smile. it simply is.

this silence that covers your home like a blanket is soft. a quilted warmth stitched from whispered words of love. filled with the lightness of laughter. and scented like a thousand shared sunsets.

i SO thought i posted this...

*** this originally happened in mid'06. somehow i didn't post. mayhaps because i was so trembly with anger***

this is an email i sent to English about my dealings tonight with sonystyle and with fedex...

this is what i just sent in response to the customer service survey they sent me.

"I need to have the shipping address changed and due to your policies and contract/partnership with fedex I can not have my order shipped to my office unless my office was in the same zip code. After 4 calls (2 to SonyStyle and 2 to Fedex) I am still without a viable solution. I understand the working relationship SonyStyle may have with FedEx but the fact that neither company is willing or able to help me leaves me very unsatisfied.

I now have to take an unscheduled half day at work in order to receive my shipment. I find this to be most unacceptable however, given that I purchased merchandise from SonyStyle and FedEx will not reroute the package without your consent, this appears to be my only option.

The customer service reps were helpful and seemed understanding but were completely unable to help me. Perhaps you should consider changing your shipping policy, or going with only one shipping company (such as UPS) who will allow customers to call and have packages rerouted without the hassle."

and i was nice on the phone... and i'm sure they could hear my frustration (which is less me being
angry and more me on the verge of crying)... but they still didn't offer any solutions. i am so frustrated. i know i'm not explaining it nearly enough...

so sony shipping policy is that it is a direct signature so someone has to sign with the shipco (in this case fedex). fedex will try 3 times to deliver... if unsigned they will hold it for 3 days at their "station" (i assume dispatch location) at the end of 3 days if it's not signed and picked up they send it BACK to sony who then simply credit my card the amount i purchased the item for.
they don't at any point in time allow the customer to have it rerouted. if i were to reroute the package i call sony, if the new address is not in the same damn zip code they won't reroute it. so what's the fucking point of even having a damn thing rerouted if it has to be the same zip code? i have no where else to have it sent in this fucking zip code.

to me fedex should be able to contact the driver who handles this zipcode and have him bring the package back to the station (which i'm sure he has to fucking do anyway at some point to pick up more packages) and simply hand the package off to the driver who handles the zipcode in boston. but no. it's like, oh once it's in the drivers hands it has fucking aids and can't be touched by anybody else.

so... now. i have to take a half fucking day. or else the laptop goes bye bye back to fucking california. we are so never using sonystyle again. hate them... hate their shipping policy. and it's not all fedexs fault. the guy couldn't even get into the account because of the deal they have with sony. so even if he wanted to the guy couldn't help. he even told me to try and have a nice day since he could hear me starting to cry.

so needless to say... i've had better nights. i hate sonystyle. and i only sorta hate fedex. stupid stupid companies.

if i had mind powers this wouldn't be happening.

monday never came

she fell in love on a wednesday. as far as things go, she felt wednesday was a perfectly nice day to fall in love. there were enough days left to be distracted by work but, not too many days left, to risk forgetting the first gentle tingles of love.

the exact moment she fell in love is difficult to pinpoint. it could have been the second she noticed that the way he walked was full of an understated confidence which, she had always felt, was impossible to achieve except perhaps in movies. or the multitude of times she had lost herself in the way he spoke that she feared he would think her slow and dimwitted. or it could have been the hours she felt it took to describe the color of his hair to ever more bored acquaintances and strangers she passed on the street.

more likely however, it was the instant his eyes showered her in sincere interest. as though the deep blue orbs were in fact spotlights which drew her from the hidden depths of the background players to star at the front of the stage. the heat of his gaze stripped her bare. burning away all the layers of self consciousness and self loathing. leaving her naked and clean for all world to see and judge.

it was in that one minuscule moment that her heart whimpered in surrender and, like a puppy with her tail between her legs, her whole inner self rolled to expose her tender side in complete submission.

for the rest of the week a smile took residence upon her face. it stayed like an unexpected but welcome guest who would never over stay their welcome.

she knew she shouldn't have fallen in love. the circumstances were stacked against her like so many dusty books in a library, heavy with words and knowledge, leaning precariously, ready to tumble. she found herself clothed in the familiar layers of doubt and cynicism. she knew he would leave just as everything else that was good in her life eventually did.

when the day came she was aloof. her visiting smile was packing up it's glow and readying for departure. she pretended she didn't care, not really, not this time.

she knew he could see the truth even before her tears betrayed her performance. she knew he could see past the thin curtain of confidence into the frailty of her heart. she knew as he played his part and, gently kissed her goodbye, that her heart would never be her own again.

she fell in love on a wednesday. she thought her heart would be broken on a monday.

she never knew that monday would never come.

flights and science

oh science. delicious science. why must you be so expensive and tiring? especially after waking up at 4 this morning. and no wifi connecting at the airport? but at least science makes bed all floofy and comfy.

does science know i will only close my eyes for a second. but be lost for hours?

can science explain why there were only three choices on the airplane for liquid refreshments? and less one for solid foodings?

oh science.

how you forsake me.

for really?

so after many beers and many laughs... i'm home...

really? at 8pm?

...

really?!

the author and i had a very good "singles" valentines dinner. with much much beer... lotsa food... and an equal measure (if not more) of laughter.

so i'm pretty well tipsy. not toasted. or slaughtered. or hammered... or gazebo'd.

but tipsy.

and i just walked the 15 minutes home. which i could have taken a bus for. but given the fact i walked and didn't see a bus the entire time. i think it was good to walk.

so i think maybe i just worked off the fried calamari dinner... and the 3 pints of blue moon.

cup of tea in hand now. and i'm going to watch some tv before crashing into my aerobed for a good nights sleep.

happy valentines to you all.

and i can't believe i'm home already!

lonely heart and empty wallets...

it's now been five months since the whole thing started. we traveled to watch a dear friend place and lock the wedding shackles. and in doing so, we waived our right to be together. we gave up our place in line. handed over our wad of cash. and flew to california for a strange sort of goodbye/holiday.

we talk every day. or at least we try to. time constraints. work. the rotation of the earth. these things are hurdles.

this is the first month out of the five where i've been working. thank goodness for staffing agencies and the large expanse of massachusetts that's been corporatized. the first three months were in a delightful little town. a town that has an old timey park complete with white gazebo and a plaque reading "a main street town". it's lovely.

but...

small. quaint. village-esque. read: not much going on.

but that wasn't the main problem. i was depressed. i get that now. i didn't really feel depressed. i just. i was just not motivated. i wasn't interested in doing a whole heck of a lot. cleaning. laundry. cooking. looking for a job. filling in visa forms. none of it.

i think lots of reason are obvious. others maybe are a bit more deeply rooted. hidden by years of undergrowth and strangling figs. you'd have to hack with a machete just to reach the spot where they are buried. perhaps dig a little with your fingers. to find more explanation for the depression. regardless. i was unhappy.

it's a vicious cycle really. you're sad about something. so you stop doing other stuff. then you get sad about the things you stopped. then about how you have no money. then about how you're lazy and aren't "really" trying to find a job. and then it's all a giant katamari ball full of little clones of your insecurity. all legs and arms wriggling. screaming and wailing. as you push yourself farther and farther. gathering speed. and collecting more of your crazy. more of your "issues".

but i'm here now. i'm working. i'm motivated. despite this weekend playing video games, i'm getting myself out. i make plans. i see people. i've been blogging *waves hand to blogosphere*. i've been reading. i've even been eating healthier.

and yet. i'm still unhappy. don't get me wrong. all the above is great. but the daily chats. the talking long distance to someone who by all rights, should be next to me. it tears at my heart. you've got to think about it. four months. of me not working. of my debt still being there. of me being depressed and lazy. he's a saint. but i can hear the weariness. as we discuss yet another problem that came up. new tires for the car. my credit card being over the limit (!). the car stalling. the challenges of feeding ourselves for less than 20 bucks a week (10 gbp for him).

this situation blows. and not the good kind like through a party noisemaker or a bubble wand. this is the really crappy kind. like a warm breeze over the thawing shit, from the neighbors giant dog, which has been buried under the snow for the past three months. or the musty smell of day old vomit and urine which wafts off the homeless dude on the bench as he sits in the sun.

so even after we cashed in my pension plan from the old office. we're still short. we have to wait til he gets paid and i get paid this week. and then, fingers crossed, i can pay the application fee.

of course. then that leaves me the small problem of working up enough funds to fly home.

bugger.

the coincidence of dreams

last night i dreamed the world was white. i built a snowman with my dad. my cheeks were tinted with exuberance and chill. my laughter crystallized and floated down to mingle with my fathers sonorous voice in the soft bed of snowflakes.

it was early morning. the sun was out. so were the stars. it just me and my dad.

...

i woke up this morning.

i pulled back the curtain.

the world was white.

i made a snowman about a half hour ago.

now i'm just waiting for my dad.

birthdays and singles night...

the past few weeks have been riddled with birthdays. close friends have celebrated landmark days within weeks if not days of myself and each other.

it was the author. the dm. me. the bestfriend. then my brother yesterday. tall karen and the chop share today in fact.

so as usual we do the whole count back 9-10 months. and you get to spring. twitterpated? the world in bloom so everyone gets a bit romantic?

i suppose 9-10 months back it's shortly after v-day. everyone is a bit more relaxed and loved up from cheap bouquets and heart shaped boxes full of sugar and cocoa butter.

which brings me (oddly) to the second point tonight.

singles night.

well... kinda. technically i'm not single. but i can at least celebrate v-day with single ladies.

or at the very least with the author. and as she has so adorably demanded...

flagons of mead.

if you don't hear from me for a couple days. it's because i'm working off a hangover. which i think is fair enough given v-day and my lack of an actual valentine.

mebbe i'll get the author a rose and a crappy little heart shaped box of russell stover's finest.

schwag!

my office is located in a market place. well, the market is located on our offices butt really. so every once in a while, very much similar to a butt, the market makes it's presence known. not with noxious fumes, but with a bag of schwag. coupons, candy, random chintzy things... and gift cards to the stores in the market.

sweeet.

i got about $35 bucks for bananannaananaaanana republik. which means i may be able to purchase one sock from a pair. i'll put the other one on layaway.

just call me...

spider killer.

in this new apartment i've killed two giant spiders. and i mean giant. not the boulder in your shoe type of giant. but honest to goodness giant. about an inch and a half to two inches.

last weekend the first spider crept out towards me from under the laundry pile i was folding. this teaches me one of two things. either fold the laundry sooner and don't leave it in a pile for a week or so. OR. don't do laundry. i'm going with the second. so the spider icks it's icky way towards me. i shriek in a totally dignified manner which startles the damn thing into beating a hasty retreat... into the sleeve of one of my hubby's sweaters. i weigh my options, shake out the sweater and chance having a spider land on my feet. OR... scream for the man to deal with it. i chose neither. i begin to bash the hell out of the sleeve. all while screaming "spider!" *bash* "spider!" *bash* "spider!" *bash* "SPIDER!!!" finally the man comes into the room. pushing me aside in a totally manlike manner. sweat glinting off of his bulging biceps. his long golden hair wafting in the breeze. his loin cloth stretched... "oh conan..." i gasp in a typically weak-femaled voice... wait. no. uhm.

anyway... spider bashed. husband comes in to the room and tells me to back off while he deals with it. he shakes out the sweater. out rolls the quite dead and thoroughly bashed spider. i am oh so pleased with myself at this point. i mean. i killed it. me. little me. all by myself. i gaze at him happily as he carts away my kill. surely he'll make it a trophy to hang above the mantle. an icon for us to gaze at in pride.

nope. into the bin it goes.

now, onto just this moment passed. the kitten is rolling around on the living room floor. intently focused on my purse. we assume she's engrossed in her own shadow which is the norm for her. i head to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. i walk back into the room. there, in a mexican standoff is the kitten and another giant spider. obviously this spider is here to avenge the savage bashing of it's kinsmen? kinswoman? kinspider. i can see the menacing glint in it's many eyes. i can almost hear it say, "ha-low, my name is in-eego manylegged, you bashed my fah-thar, pree-pare to die."

i gasp in fear. i contemplate tossing the water glass at it. my conanish, i mean couragous husband is miles away at the computer, listening to musak. he turns in my direction at the gasp. he see's the spider. he rises. just as he stands i grab my flipflop. position it above the icky critter. and mutter "you gotta ask yourself, do you feel lucky punk?... well, do you?" and i bash the living hell out of it.

okay, maybe it wasn't that dramatic. but i did kill it. i smooshed it under the flipflop. flipped the flop over to inspect the damage. then went quickly to the nearest chair. and stood on it until the husband had removed the remains.

yea. i am one kick ass spider killer.

i am. just ignore the fact that i am sitting in odd yoga poses in order to keep my feet off the spider infested floor.

eee-vile genius

question: what do you do with a dozen homemade donuts which have gone stale, despite your hunny eating as many as his mouth can fit every time he walks into the kitchen?

answer: you make donut/bread pudding.

my evil genius knows no bounds!

mwahahaaa! muahahahaaa! ha. ha!

...

ha.

just not right...

this... it's just not right. if anything were to disuade me from eating a christmas goose, this would be it...

just look at it!

looooook at eeeeeeet!

it's so sad.

turning of the leaves...

it's not autumn. the leaves aren't coloring. fading. or falling.

but my internal forest. the woods that hold this shell up. that keep this form moving and swaying in the breeze. those trees are changing.

storing energy. releasing life. pushing buds up from dark dead limbs. bursting open with a frenzy of petals and scent.

i am forcing my trees to stand tall. to reach outwards. to leave myself vulnerable and open.

i could allow myself to harden. to wither. to let all my leaves drop and my heart to shrivel.

but i won't.

my forest has grown. matured. deepened.

i will not let a small flurry of clouds and stormy weather determine the seasons of my heart.

i will bend. i will not break. i will be gentle. i will be strong. i will raise my arms and my eyes. i will lift my voice.

i will live.

still surreal

it's strange to think that just over a year ago i moved from the states into a new land. even stranger still to realize that it's been almost a year since i got married. and perhaps, even more strange is that fact that we are seriously discussing buying a house so that we can have a home to raise a baby.

somehow the talk of mortgages and 3 am feedings makes all the amount of growing up i've done in the past two years seem so very inconsequential.

now, don't jump to conclusions. there is no bun in the oven. well not the non-edible kind at any rate.

but there is talk of it. and while the other half is still unsure. we are making the plans. and my goodness there is a lot of planning.

i suppose that is the problem with marrying a project manager type. everything gets listed and weighed. we don't do anything before the costs are tallied.

it is a very different way of living than i am used to. i tend to jump first. then check to see if i have a place to land. or if all else fails. i squeeze my eyes shut and will wings to sprout out of my back.

but i suppose i can't do that anymore. i can't jump anymore because i have to think about someone else's heart and not just my own. especially not if i am really thinking about being a mom.

it's all part of growing up i guess.

i don't really mind.

in a way. i think i still shut my eyes. and took a step forward. without ever really knowing what i was stepping off of.

but now. i have someone holding my hand.

and his eyes are open.

strange...

...visits with your husband. planned sleepovers.

trying to ignore any tension. pretending to unsee any elephants.

but at ease. comforted. in the falsely familiar.

treading water carefully. holding your head up high. protecting your heart from the surge of emotions and high water.

hopeful that your feet will touch land.

soon.

daily drudgery

life is pretty still at the moment. after the move down to warwick. it's as if we have become goldfish. growing only as large as their bowl. only we've shrunk. we venture out less. we enjoy the confines of our small home in the confines of our small town.

husband is getting into the ebb and flow of emails and paperwork which rolls over his desk. he is happy on his island of industrious labor.

i am working. it is good to get back into the routine. wake up. shower. dress. work. converse with other beings of the human persuasion. go home. make dinner. cuddle with husband until sleep calls to us.

our antisocial cat has wandered into the world outside our window. though, as a recluse she remains as unfriendly to strangers as ever. the sound of the trains and cars send her careening back into the open window. eyes wide and tail spiky. her forays into the jungle of domestic plants has given her more courage with the small rodents in our house. she attempts to sniff and say hello. but alas, the larger of the two is still very protective of her sister. and the kitten now has a small scab on her nose, the same size as a set of rat teeth.

the rats are happy. they have branched out from only owning two levels of our bookcase to now calling three and sometimes four levels home. the dvds still stand proudly on the remaining fifth level. there are tea boxes, rocks, cardboard stairs, and tin cans. a world of happy rubbish for the rats to rule. it's amazing how such small creatures can make such a large mess of your house. the mess i think is equivalent to the amount of love and entertainment you receive when you give a pair of rats a home.

so life is good. it is simple. it is day by day. a walk with my husband. hand in hand. simple.

simple and happy.

non-showered glory

so today is the second day this week where i have actually gone a full 24 hours (possibly more) sans shower.

i know it's gross. but. really. i'm ill. which actually when i think about it is even more reason i should have showered. meh.

but just because i didn't shower doesn't mean i did not have an eventful day. okay. maybe it does.

but you know... i did do stuff. stuff that did not involve me leaving the house.

i tidied my room. i now have more clean surfaces for which my clutter can grow from. i started my visa process. *fist shake* damn visas. i even put out my little collection of cookbooks that has multiplied since i arrived back in the states in september. this is not my fault. people buy my gigantormous cookbooks. crazy people. people who forget that i'll have to travel with it now since i'm kinda still in housing limbo.

let's see... what else did i do? in between my nap and dozing on the couch i also hung (snigger... i said hung). ahem. i also hung a curtain on one of my windows so that i can keep some semblance of heat in my otherwise drafty room. why only one curtain? because that's all i could find in the basement. plus at some point i actually enjoy to have the sun in my room. despite other peoples idea of me shunning the daylight.

hrmm...

you know. listing all the things i did today does not do much to prove the point that me not showering for a day is an okay thing. it's like the pros are disproportionately in favor of showering given the lack of any valid excuse for not doing so.

meh.

i'm ill.

i still say that excuse trumps all others.

don't tell me...

... i came all this way.

to be unwanted.

...

does it hurt more because i loved so much? or because of the wedding bands?

i can't go back and change what was. and to work on what is now, seems to be fruitless to you. because you can't see past what i let you down with before.

i don't want to give up. i don't want to go. i don't want to lose you.

it's not just the "right now" feelings.

it's the fact that i actually want to fight. i want to do more than just run. or let things run their course. i want to make the effort. and though you had longer to let these feelings simmer, while i was for some reason unawares... and you enjoy your solitude... and you don't want to put any trust in me.

i will still fight.

because the me that i am when i'm with you... is worth all the little lonely me's when i'm not.

fuck

tired.

so. tired.

3 years yesterday.

and we spent it in different places without each other.

raise your eyebrows if you want.

sigh.

there and back again...

so i'm back in california... for the moment.

just a little detour before i move to the east coast... which is also just a detour before i go home.

i realize with all the strangeness in my life that i have a great selection of friends. willing to house me without rent. willing to deal with me for inordinate amounts of time. it's sweet really. though i believe the "without rent" has the unspoken caveat of "if you cook/bake for us"

it's nice though. to have people i can ask.

i hope they all know that if they ever need something...

... they might as well ask someone else to help.

just kidding! go on. ask me for help if you ever need it.

if i'm around. i'll help.

the holiday that wasn't

we had last week off. drove up to scotland. took the cat. bad idea number one. about 45 minutes into the 6 hour drive my lap was the proud home to a steaming pile of cat puke. even more unlucky for me was that we were about 20 minutes away from the services exit. after getting to the services and finding a rubbish bin to unload the nasty, i shook out the hooded sweater i had sensibly placed on my lap in case of kitty pukeage.

back on the road.

another hour or two went past.

an hour or two of happiness shattered in an instant. the first time was easier to deal with. it was more like moist cat food. the second was much more horrifying.

so we stopped at another services. shoved the cat into her litter box. and positioned it so she couldn't escape. we figured the dark would be better because she could sleep. no. every time she heard me talk she let out a plaintive wail. for 3 more hours.

when we got to scotland we took her in and locked her in the bathroom so we could get settled and so i could clean her off. you see, in the 3 hours she managed to be sick AND do major wet number 2's all over herself AND the hooded sweater which was in the litter box with her.

so now, we're all settled. the cat has food which she gulps down frantically. makes sense since her tummy was quite certainly empty. oh, one thing we forgot to mention to the wendy kitten... this house we're staying at, has 2 small children and another kitty. oh the joys that will be the introductions.

next day after some much needed sleep we all enjoyed the peaceful yowls and delicate growls of a supremely pissed off wendy.

now, we had two days of relative happiness. then monday thru thursday we had to wake up at 7:45 to take the girls to school for 9. which involved much tears and bickering. and the girls weren't much better. in the evenings it was homework and dinner. oh and trying to get the girls to eat their veggies. which involved even more tears and bickering.

then home thursday night. up early friday morning for the 2 hour drive down to london. the 20 minute line at the american embassy (which to be fair if i were not american would have been an hour or two line). then the whole passport thing. see, i lost my passport. which according to the records at the embassy is my second time at doing so. but really it's not. the first time i "lost" my passport it was simply in transit because the post office decided not to deliver it because my name wasn't on the mailbox as i had just moved into the apartment. now, normally i would sort of understand this, except i moved into an area where the names on the mailboxes changes every semester. i mean, i was living 10 minutes from harvard. duh postal people. just deliver the damn envelope. especially since they delivered mail for a dude who hadn't lived in the apartment for at least a year and his name wasn't on the mailbox either.

ahem. i digress.

so, passport. actually lost for real this time. forms filled out. payments made. oh thank goodness the american dollar is such crap right now. it only cost us 47 lbs instead of the 97 dollars. so forms done, paying done, waiting... getting scolded by the mousy embassy dude for my lost passport, agreeing to an oath from a nice american lady and having her commiserate about the not lost passport/postal fuck up. one hour later we're done. got lunch. drove home.
did some shopping for the week to come. slept.

saturday. up at 8:30 so we could leave in time to drive the 2 and half hours up to manchester. had lunch with the in laws. checked in to the hotel down the street. enough time to get changed and freshen up to walk "15 minutes" down the street to hubby's friend's parent's house. his definition of 15 minutes is really far off. i think it's the equivilent to his definition of "9 inches". so we head out to the friend's house only my cute shiny heeled shoes broke about 5 minutes from the hotel. so back to the hotel for the sneakers and then back out.

at the friend's house it was all "hi" , "how are you", "your kid is super cute" , "let's go get sloshed". from there on it's a slight blur.

not really. football game surrounded by happy boys who haven't all seen each other for a year at least. since the smoking ban footgames are much more enjoyable for me (no sneezing or smelling like an ashtray for the rest of the night). i even got a warm cake and custard dessert even though the kitchen was closed.

then it was off to another pub to play pool... or really to watch the hubby kick ass at pool. it's amazing how even after dating for 2 years you are surprised at someone's talents.

a few pints later it's dragging the hubby back to the hotel. we walked the whole way because we just couldn't be bothered to look for a taxi.

the next morning we headed back to his mum's house for some fatty breakfast and chatter. and may i just say i love me some fatty breakfast. i think black pudding is my secret love. it's just so wrong and oh so right.

then it was off to visit (or attempt to visit) some more family. we barged in on one auntie still in her pj's. finally at 2 in the afternoon we made our departure via the shopping center in manchester. i needed new clothes. probably from all my fatty breakfasts.

clothes shopping done (don't ask how it went. i hate shopping. i hate people. it was my worst nightmare come to life.) we went off for a quick lunch. bumped into a couple who's wedding cake i made. chatted. left.

home.

then back to work the next morning.

joy.

so how has everyone else been?