Critics Critique

This dumb girl on the Bachelor is completely obsessed with the obnoxious actions of another dumb girl on the Bachelor and my frustration for her self-sabotage cannot be contained. Why does this bitch care so much what the other bitch is doing?I think I’d do myself a lot of good if I’d take my own advice once in a while. Instead of getting my own mind blown because of someone else’s actions – I should turn my brain around and look at myself. I’m the queen of telling other people: “shit happens. get over it.” Yet I’ve been hating the same girl for 4 years for trying to ruin something that can't even be ruined anymore. Sure – I can rationalize&justify my hatred for her… but why!?
Why the hell do I let myself stay caught up?
The world is full of selfish bitches and I am most certainly one of them.
If I so deeply hate when others dwell on their problems then I should probably let go of my own. And one of my biggest problems just so happens to be how much I critique others’ issues.
Why the fuck do I care?
I shouldn’t be affected if someone wants to aim their stress at something I would never stress about. I shouldn’t be irritated by someone else’s organizational skills or levels of cleanliness (unless it directly affects my health). I shouldn’t wonder why someone deals the way they do or assess alternative reactions that I won’t have the balls to propose anyway.
So I suppose what I’m trying to say – in a very broken, round-about way – is that I’m attempting to focus on me (Not MeMeMe AllDay EveryDay) and my own issues instead of everyone else’s. Their lives are their lives and my life is my life and my stress should revolve around the things I can control – not the things that make me wonder.

Restless

Yesterday
All I wanted was a settled apartment & a steady job.
Today
I’m panicked I’ll wake up someday & realize I’ve abandoned all my dreams.

My Side

So many lies are taking hold
It’s not your fault there’s many scars

I am on your side
It’s taken me a long time
I am on your side - I’m on your side

And I listen - Yeah I listen
Can you listen?
Now I’m listening

I am on your side
It’s taken me a long time
I am on your side - I’m on your side

(And I listen) I am on your side
(Yeah I listen) It’s taken me a long time
(Can you listen?) I am on your side
(Now I’m listening) I’m heading out tonight
(And I listen) I'm heading out tonight
- Pete Yorn "On Your Side"

Weather Bitch

I hate listening to people
complain
about the weather.
You live in the Midwest.
I bet you’ve lived here a long time.
Winter is not a shock.
This mild-winter has actually been wonderful.
One day of snow is not a big deal.
Shut up.

Marge: theMostAnnoyingOfficeLadyEver
She thinks daily complaints about anything are great.
Topic of choice lately: the weather and cold&flu season.

DoorMat

I’ve never been good at standing up for myself.
– I hate confrontation –
– I hate to offend people –
– I hate to call any negative attention to myself –
So I tend to left things slide (then bitch about it all the time to someone else – unfortunately for Mr.U: usually him) and not mention what I really want.
I feel as though I’m always the friend who’s compromising for my other friends.
I end up dealing with a dirty mess, complete lack of space, or meal I’d never chose to eat.
I pay to see movies that don’t interest me in the slightest or pack away the things I want to ensure I’m not intrusive.
It’s frustrating.
And it hurts me sometimes when I let myself realize that I’m being walked-on.
Mr.U has a special talent for pointing it out and telling me to stand up for myself.
But I still can’t convince myself that a drawer in the fridge or a Starbucks instead of Bigby is worth raising my voice.

Pickle Addiction

I'm addicted to pickles these days.(my healthy replacement for salty snacks)

and I like to squeeze the juice out before I eat them.(my attempt to consume less sodium)

Panic Mode

“God gave me you for the ups&downs.
God gave me you for the days of doubt.”
-Blake Shelton “God Gave Me You”
So, I have a tendency to go into panic mode. My biggest meltdowns tend to revolve around school&money – little else gets to me in life – but loans&college credits make my stomach turn and my eyes well up with little effort. This morning was a whole other level of panic mode when I got my Spring 2012 graduation audit back.
Before my bunni passed, I was on track for a 4-year bachelors degree with a double major in Anthropology & Global Studies minoring in Geography. Then, instead of graduating that spring, I took 3 Phys Ed classes through the Recreation Department and pretended like reality didn’t exist, which did not motivate me to get the degrees I’d already completed the required credits for – so I packed up and ran away to Disney World. Don’t get me wrong – the escape, I honestly believe, saved my life… but on a productivity level, I was simply wasting time. Finally, I decided to complete my education, meaning I had to pick up a few credits at the university before they would let me graduate after disappearing on them.
This morning, though, I learned I was one course short – one random course of my choice – and, of course, the drop/add date for this semester has already come&gone. My stomach turned and I started balling at my desk – instead of thinking of a rational solution to the problem, I lunged into panic mode and convinced myself my world was ending while I texted Mr.U. “I’m going to die. I’m one class short. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pay for more of this. I can’t take out loans. I’m going to die.” Calmly he responded: “We’ll figure it out.”
The evil Asian bitch didn’t end up letting me late add – so I have one stupid class to take in summer 1… but Mr.U didn’t let me let the issue get me down, emphasizing all the good: it’s not like I planned to leave the area before July anyway – I’ll be much less busy now without the added credits – I’ll *hopefully* be hired-in & receiving tuition reimbursement by then… and so on.
Blake Shelton’s “God Gave Me You” song has been playing on repeat in my head for days and I can’t express how blessed I feel to have Mr.U in my life. He calms me, makes me laugh till my belly aches, brings me back down to earth, and builds me up when I’m too hard on myself. I honestly think I’m the luckiest girl in the world – even when I so easily slip into panic mode.

Tuesday Toot

So, I’d had kind of a rough night on Monday night – sort of “silly rough” because I was mostly just being overly-sensitive, but still. Thus, when Mr.U&I met at the gym Tuesday morning for our leg work out, I was a bit quiet and stand-off-ish. He kept a smile on his face in an attempted to brighten my spirits without pressing the issue, but I could tell he was concerned.
As he did lunges while holding a heavy dumbbell, I sullenly sat gazing on one of the benches. Then, in mid-lunge, he tooted. He whipped around red-phased – “did I just toot!?”
I burst into laughter. “Yes, yes you did.”
I continued to giggle as he told me about the high-fiber chili he’d made for dinner the night before. “I don’t care what you ate or how much you toot – that just made me feel so much happier.” This statement segwayed into why I’d been upset to begin with – which I really didn’t feel like discussing at the gym and had lost a bit of its importance after my gigglefest anyway.
Funny how a potentially embarrassing bodily function completely brightened my day.

Lose You

I’m taking a ride off to one side...
It is a personal thing.
Where?
When I can’t stand up in this cage I’m not regretting.
I don’t need a better thing...
I’d settle for less.
It’s another thing for me...
I just have to wander through this world alone.
Stop before you fall into the hole that I have dug here.
Rest.
even as you are starting to feel the way I used to.
I don’t need a better thing...
just to sound confused.
Don’t talk about everyone.
I am not amused by you.
I’m gonna lose you.
Yeah I’m gonna lose you.
If I’m gonna lose you...
I’m gonna lose you.
Yeah I’m gonna lose you.
If I’m gonna lose you...
I’ll lose you now for good.
- Pete Yorn "Lose You"

Time&Again

People always think I’m being irrational when I say:
“I don’t want you to get sick of me.”
Hence why I keep my distance
–
there’s no mystery or excitement if I’m always there.
But, time&again, they insist:
“I could never get sick of you.”
Then, before either of us realize:
they do.
Fuck you.
I will not let you get sick of me.

Pride Wounds

I’ve had my share of wild nights… well – let’s be honest – wild days, wild weeks, and wild weekends, too. But I’ve slowed down a lot in the past year. Maybe a few drinks a couple times a month or a night out with the girls here&there – nothing too big, though.
One of my last hoorahs in the wasted world was this past summer at Chicago’s Gay Pride Parade. Determined to hop on a float, I hurdled over the barrier keeping the crowd from the street and lunged onto a float just as I had with a friend the previous year. This time, though, I realized I was alone – which scared me. So I jumped back off and skidded across the pavement on my hands&knees. With no help from the crowd around me, I half-crawled my way out to the sidewalk and started running (cause running seems to be my solution when I’m drunk&scared) – still alone. Balling on the phone with my brother, a younger man offered me help.
“I just want a cigarette!” I wailed, so he plopped down next to me and enjoyed a nicotine fix.
Shortly after the smoke cleared, my brother, thefutureMrs.Jones, and a few of our frightened friends found me – bruised&bleeding on the sidewalk. We continued on our journey to the house party we’d planned to attend and raided the bathroom for antiseptic&bandages to clean me up.
Just like most of my unnecessarily-hammered stories, it’s somewhat comical looking back, but in the moment I was petrified. Thank goodness for the people who love me enough to keep their cool and practice patients till I’ve calmed down and been found.

Country Drives

I miss Betty.I miss the fall.I miss drivin' through the country.I miss a lot of things.

Sophomore's Savior

"It’s hard not to wonder what I could have, should have, would have done to save her. I suppose I’ll always wonder. I can re-play every conversation, every fight, every memory over&over searching for an answer or solution, but I know it will never bring her back. I always knew that. Even when she was here, I knew I couldn’t change things. What my Bunni did was what my Bunni did and I just had to take what I could get.
Those stages of grief they talk about never came full circle for me, because I definitely never hit the “bargaining” one. I accepted from the moment I heard she’d really done it that she was gone and there was no bringing her back. There was only dealing. Only living. Only remembering what I could. Loving what I’d had. Missing it, of course, but not hoping for it to return. She was gone. Sure, I wish I’d saved her – I’ll always wish that – but I didn’t.
She had definitely saved me, though, from a lot. Honestly, I think we both saved each other – it was just that ultimate “save” that I missed somehow. But it’s not like I was always the “solid” one in our pair. In fact, if she’d never saved me, I’m sure I couldn’t have held on to her as long as I did – her efforts in the beginning that lead to my efforts toward the end.Heaving in a bush a block from my apartment building – that’s what I had lowered myself to in my bulimia haze. That Qudoba Gumbo had been spectacular on the way down, but I certainly couldn’t leave it in my body. Sorority Formal Recruitment was coming up and there was still a solid month of shorts & tank top weather, so access body weight was not an option. This had become my ritual that summer – either a bush, public restroom, or a plastic bag while the shower ran… I couldn’t have my brother hearing me barf in the bathroom we shared and I couldn’t leave any evidence. I’d accepted my habit, but I knew he wouldn’t. Slowly, my walks to class had gotten harder – my tired, hunchy body ran out of breath much more easily without all that nasty food to keep it energized. I’d convinced myself that the energy was ugly – who needs to stand up straight because they ate 3 full meals? I’d come to love my rounded shoulders and protruding hip bones – there’s more beauty in my control than your energy, you eaters.
The first night her&I spent as roommates was for Recruitment Retreat at our sorority house. I wanted to impress her. Yes, I was dating someone and so was she, but I wanted so badly to catch her eye. My tiny body would certainly be impressive. She also was tiny, though.
Damnit, she’s been working hard all summer, too. I remember irritatedly thinking – hoping my efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.
They didn’t. As I pulled on my Victoria’s Secret PINK pj bottoms she lounged in her red desk chair trying not to watch me change – a task she later admitted was much more difficult than she’d expected.
“You been blowin’ coke all summer, girl?” she blurted.
Satisfaction. I shook my head as I slipped my shirt over my bony shoulders.
I didn’t start eating “normal meals” again until her & I were in full swing about 4 months later. By then she knew it wasn’t cocaine that was keeping the skin attached to my bones. She knew what I was doing. Yet never seemed phased. Truthfully, I think she wanted someone to save – something to distract herself with – someone who needed more help than she did. She never made a negative comment. I only heard constant reassurance of how beautiful I was and how lucky she was to have me. She never forced me into eating. I always knew the offer was on the table, though. And eventually, my comfort with her and in us brought me back around. I wanted energy for her. But more than that – I didn’t seem to want anything anymore... I didn’t need to be tiny – I didn’t need to vomit. My happiness had eliminated those thoughts. I don’t remember a turning point. I don’t remember clenching a toilet seat thinking, This is the last time, girl, cause you don’t need to do this again. I only remember not doing it – not worrying anymore. An effortless transition to health – and maybe some added pounds I'd have disliked had I been paying attention, but I wasn’t thinking about my appearance by her side. I just lived. Ate, drank, loved, and lived."
-excerpt from my novel

Leftover Goodies

My mom's been cleaning out the cupboards lately...
And sending me all the leftover goodies.
I have a -sometimes irrational- innability to waste food.
No matter how random it may be.

Hobby Naps

"Shopping for baskets makes me sleepy."
- Mr.U

Getting Old

This weekend #bff and her #djbf wanted to go out with Mr.U&I. So we went to a local bar called The Library for drinks on Saturday night where some of our girlfriends had planned birthday celebrations. After what seemed like hours of waiting for our drinks, we awkwardly stood in the game room. “Let’s play pool!” suggested #bff. No open tables. “Ok, let’s play darts.” So we scrounged together enough quarters for the boys to play darts while we watched. Once we thought we’d got the hang of it, we broke some dolladollabills to play a round for ourselves. Laughing&goofing around, we posted up in the corner of the game room and played a couple vs. couple game before our friends finally arrived. They headed straight toward the dance room – a place #bff&I would have been all over a couple years ago – but instead of getting down&dirty, we wandered in, said our hellos, and went back to the apt so we could “actually hear each other talk.” And absolutely no part of me felt like a loser for being so lame. I guess it’s official: I’m getting old.

Mr.WillPower

Mr.U is doing much better on his diet than I am. This is irritating. I pride myself on having will-power. Especially when I have a goal – like weight-loss. But, he’s buckled down and stuck to his oatmeal, protein shakes, grilled chicken and salad with daily workouts. And I have continued my small indulgences here&there.
I always say that completely depriving one’s self just makes “dieting” more difficult in the long run. If I want want want something but never allow myself to have it – the day I break, I’ll break break break.
I’m not gaining. He’s definitely dropping&cutting. His opinion: this is good cause I don’t need to lose while he does. But I’d be lying if I said his determination isn’t emphasizing my weaknesses – even if it’s only in my head. Maybe it would bother me less if he wouldn’t insist that I “eat enough” all the time. If I ate what he’s eating all day, he’d tell me I need more. Unfair. We’ll get this under control eventually. I suppose my ultimate desire is for us both to be comfortable&confident. If he can be so restrictive right now – I can’t let it bother me.FatFree WhippedCream mixed&frozen with 1packed of FatFree SugarFree Chocolate PuddingExtra Fiber OatmealLiquid Eggs cooked with Pepper & covered in Hot Sauce

ByeBye Betty

Betty is no more.
(and this post is long over-due)
She finally decided she’s done traveling with me after our “Last Hoorah Trip” to Pennsylvania over Thanks Giving. Not only did she drop her muffler half-way home (just to make sure every car on the toll-way knew we were coming) but her transmission slowly faded and we inched our way through back-country roads at about 35mph – tacking 2hrs onto our trip.
I can’t say I blame her for calling it quits. She’s been all over the place – dragging me and half my life on so many adventures. And I’ll appreciate her forever for every wonderful memory I’ve been blessed enough to share with her.
I spent the a few days crying while we puttered to work together– knowing there will be no repair job by our neighbor to put her back on the road for a while longer. I rubbed her steering-wheel and screamed over her muffler-less rumble: “I love you, Betty.”
She knows I do. She’s known forever. That’s probably why she’s held on for so long. She got me through the hardest times and only decided to pass once she knew I’d be ok – once she’d witnessed me find happiness again.Thank you, Betty, for every single thing you’ve given me – ever moment of enjoyment inside you – and every patient measure of distance spent ensuring I’d come out of the darkness before you’d gone. You were the best 1st vehicle I could have ever asked for and you left your mark on my friends – my family – and my world. No one other mode of transportation will find the space in my heart you’ve filled. And whatever piece of art I decide to make out of your pieces will hang forever wherever I go.

Roomie Time

We may be growing up and spreading out, but we’ll have one last hoorah together, which makes me very happy.
Barbie has obviously decided to move in with Marine – her fiance – once she finds a job where he is located. After spending half their relationship apart & half together, it’s time to be under the same roof for the long haul. This leaves Barbie with unnecessary bills and an open bed at KFry’s.
Guess who’s moving!?
And, until Barbie finds her dream job (or any job, really) – we’ll be roomies! The 3 of us lived under the same roof for 2 years during college and now we get to enjoy each other all over again!
– 2 bedrooms –
– 2 bathrooms –
– 1 clean kitchen –
– and a ton of fun girls’ nights –
I know someday we’re gonna have to move out&move on, but I’ve got that familiar feeling&thought about the next few months of my life: these are the moments you’ll remember forever.

Bachelor Bitches

Mondays have become Scrapbook&Bachelor nights for KFry, Barbie, & me. Last night was pretty unsuccessful in the scrapbooking arena – I never found time to get any new supplies – but we did enjoy a wonderful S’more-themed dessert and a pretty wild episode of ABC’s The Bachelor.
From the very first season, this show never interested me, but somehow I always end up watching it. In high school, my mom loved it, so I watched it with her. My sorority sisters were addicted, so three years of obsession went by while living with them. My sister-in-law's a fan, so I got into it with her. And now – mostly because I wanted a scrapbooking night with some of my favorite girls – I’ve found myself hooked on Ben – ‘Ben F.: WineMaker’ as my sister-in-law calls him – and his crazy bachelorettes.
Every season the contestants get more&more good-looking (the teeny dresses&skirts of this season showcase the abundance of model-like figures) but also more&more vindictive. They come in knowing who they want to see with a game-plan to “fall in love” with this complete stranger – and they have no intention on “losing.” Last night: the claws came out when a “new girl” showed up. I was honestly shocked by these 20-something women and their childlike behavior. If I was Ben… I’d run and search for a non-fame-whore with a touch of maturity&class.
Thus far, I can’t say I’m rooting for any of them.

PJProblems

I asked Mr.U for a pair of PJBottoms
-this is what he gave me-
.not the same.

Mongolian Sundays

Mr.U&I have got a new Sunday tradition. After hitting the gym, we have a wonderfully-healthy, protein&veggie-filled bowl of Mongolian Barbeque from BD’s. He’s a growing man and finishes the heaping pile of stir-fry while I – on the other hand – barely finish 1/4th. This has worked out perfectly, though. Since I avoid my kitchen for both food storage&cooking, I have a convenient to-go box for the work-week that I separate into 3 little servings to put inside wraps.
Yum.
Mr.U's Meat-filled MonsterMy Egg-ceptional Vegetableness

Boyfriend's Girlfriend

I’m officially a “girlfriend” again.Two years ago at this time, I never thought I’d say that. I’d convinced myself I’d end up alone or simply settle for someone who’d take me and take care of me eventually. Not that I’d be head-over-heels happy.
But – I have to admit – that I had butterflies fluttering through my stomach and a lump of excitement in my throat as I drove to Mr.U’s on Friday night.
“Ask me again in January.”
Well, January it is. And I had a feeling that January 13th would be the day he’d ask again. So, I bounced into his room and he handed me a beautiful bouquet of yellow-orange-ish roses with a card. I almost cried, then – of course – said, “if this means I finally get to be your girlfriend – my answer is ‘yes.’” We made it facebook official then snuggled before heading out for Chinese. I spent the rest of the weekend saying “Happy 1st morning together, boyfriend.” “Happy 1st meal together, boyfriend.” “Happy 1st workout sess, boyfriend.”
We’ve had a ton of great weekends together and I can’t wait to enjoy more.

Honestly Impartial

I don't care what you have to say or publish or post
...or what you're doing with your life or love or home
...or how you feel about this or that or things
...or even if you're happy or not or never will be.
To be entirely honestly:
I never really did.I think you're selfish and unattractive and [mostly] insane.

Waiting Day

It's Friday the 13th.
It's a blizzard outside.
and, I'm beginning to believe:
I had unrealistic expectations for this day.

Questions

What does it mean to rush?
Do I care if people think I’m rushing?
If I feel I’ve got the right thing now
- and will have this "right thing" forever -
is it really rushing at all?

Protien Explosion

I waited&waited for my new vegetable protien from the Vitamin Shoppe and this is what I found when I opened the box.And explosion of powder.Now I get to wait for my replacement.

Confused Snow

It’s cracking me up that my friend who *hates* the snow&cold just moved out of the Midwest to Texas and is experiencing a record snowfall her 1st week there ...while we don’t have an inch of accumulation here.
Soon enough, though – we’ve got to get dumped on sometime this winter.

Brotherly Love

I love my brother.
Well, I love both my brothers
– I have two –
and I love them both.
But my middle brother is my hero, best friend, and will undoubtedly be my best man in my wedding (I know, I know – I’m supposed to have a maid-of-honor). I ensure that he knows my life’s occurrences and I expect to know the details of his. He knows my "launguage" cause he's been there to make it all up with me.
We’re:
– two peas in a pod –
– two nappers on the gray couch –
– two halves of a funzie –
He’s seen me at my lowest and soared with me at my highest. He’s let me crash wherever he’s landed and picked up pieces in whatever manner he knew how. I’m endlessly blessed by my entire amazing family, but my brother puts a smile on that no one else can find inside me.

I drove an hour’s distance simply to see him an hour earlier on Christmas Eve and when he hopped off the train the familiar lump in my throat was just another reminder of the ridiculous amounts I love this goofy brother of mine.

Season's End

The season came to a disappointing end last Saturday night for our HonoluluBlue&Silver men. Mr.U took it surprisingly well after a pep-talk showcasing the team’s improvements and hopes for next year. And, though we lost, it was an enjoyable night filled with homemade Mexican Dip, Puppy Chow, and Den Pops.
Next season, boys… we’ll be ready for some wins.

Canvas Deals

Last Friday afternoon I discovered that Micheal’s was having a half-off sale on their wrapped canvases. If you paint, you know that canvases are pricey – so I was pumped to get to Micheal’s and pick some up. I had a couple projects in mind and a game plan for two, large canvases… but, when I got there, my heart latched on to the biggest canvas they had. I stood in Micheal’s for far too long contemplating before finally talking myself down from the excessively-large-canvas ledge. When I started my project, though, I just couldn’t take my mind off the huge one. Mr.U (eager to please) convinced me to go back and get the one I wanted the next day. Unfortunately, we couldn’t fit it into his Jeep. We stood in the freezing cold January air of Micheal’s parking lot contemplating. Just as I’d decided to give up, return it, and get the other (normal sized) one back, he put his foot down. “You want this canvas. It makes you happy. We’ll figure out how to get it home.” 3-hours and 1-round of “Let’s Make a Deal” later, he’d helped his roommate move a 250lb gun case in exchange for the usage of his truck. The canvas literally takes over my queen size bed – and I love it.His reward: a naked Charlie Batch bent over the living room couch.

Needy Naps

HazelMonster is super needy.
While her momma has been out of town, Mr.U&I have been playing PetParents.
She doesn't need much
- mostly just to be near us -
so she squeezes herself as close to the bed as possible.

BedHog

I leave the room for a minute and come back to find this...

Fraction Pants

Sometimes I’m a huge ditz
– not very often –
but definitely sometimes.

When I bought these jeans in September,
I thought they were a size half,
which – obviously – I found odd.
Today (4 months later) I realized they are a size 1-to-2
…not .5…
I’m an idiot.
Good thing pant size doesn’t actually matter to me…

Icy Lesson

…and the winner is: ICE.
I didn’t say “I told you so.” – but I definitely thought it.
The first day of 2012 was an entire day of snowfall and, after staying in all day, Mr.U was all too excited to drive me home through the Winter Wonderland and fully experience the 4-wheel-drive on his nice, new Jeep. “…none of that matters on ice, dear.” I gently warned him as he dropped me off.
About 45minutes later, he called. “I’m an idiot…” he proclaimed as he proceeded with the story of how he did $1,500 worth of damage sliding through a turn. Of course, I felt horrible – if I could wrap him in a bubble of happiness: I would… and simple things like ice would never cause him trouble. But, I can’t and a week of rental cars, insurance claims, and repair shops have forced a hard-lesson-learned that 4-wheel-drive doesn’t matter when ice is involved.

Spare Change

I bought Mr.U a piggy bank that counts money for Christmas - Detroit Lion’s themed - and I was so excited to put all the change that is laying everywhere in his house&jeep in it.
But when we opened it: it needed batteries.
Of course, we didn’t have any.
Once I finally got some...
we couldn’t get the little, teeny screw out to put the batteries in.
Struggle Bus.
On Sunday, though, I was determined to figure it out.
Go me!
And – drum roll – we found $12.80 for the bank.
Woohoo.
Now we have to figure out what we’re going to do with it once we fill it up.

Bubye Cheats

Had my last holiday “cheats”
…it had to happen sometime...
I suppose.
I can only eat junk for so long until I shape back up.
I’m not good at being unhealthy when it comes down to it.
Time to get rid of the cellulite thighs and hit the gym.
Yuck.
But the cheats were good. For sure.