Tag Archive: bitching

WARNING: girly post

Slacker!  Not you, me.  I just haven’t been feeling up to it lately; something strange is going on in my psyche that just makes things, life in general, seem completely impossible.  It’s some sort of downward spiral, I think.  The more lazy I get, the more bored I become, which in turn makes me want to be lazy, which only leads to more boredom, and so it goes. 

So today, I decided to spice things up: I am wearing a dress.  Not that this in itself is unusual; I have a closet full of dresses.  But I’ve been in a phase lately where I just don’t feel up to dressing up.  The more casual I can get, the better.  I’ve found sneaky ways of dressing down for work, bringing corduroy pants and colored khakis into the mix, throwing in some tank tops with cute little cardigans to make them more appropriate.  But all the dressing down, while being excellent for the lazy-and-comfortable factor, has made me feel like a giant frump, and therein lies a great source of internal conflict.  

It hit me yesterday when I was watching Gunsmoke.  (Does that sound silly? It does. And it is. But it’s true.)  First off, let it be known that Miss Kitty is a badass and I want to be like her when I grow up.  Minus the saloon girls.  Maybe.  But definitely including the big fake beauty mark, cuz that’s awesome in a sort of creepy way.  One time she had one shaped like a star.  I could totally rock that.

Anyways, she brought up the point that every woman needs to feel like a woman sometimes.  I’m sure that means different things to different people, and I don’t think anyone else should be able to tell you what that means for you.  As for me, I have no idea what it means.  I’m still trying to work that out.  All I know is that I don’t, and I think that’s part of what has been subconsciously bugging me the last few weeks.  I’m really just down on my drab boring self.  I feel like some sort of frumpy asexual cartoon child.  I am a live-action Peppermint Patty.  And the worst part is that I don’t know what to do about it. 

The grey dress is the first step.  Testing the waters, so to speak, trying to get back into that phase where I actually put some effort into myself.  It would be easy and convenient to blame my lack of effort on being married and the idea that I’m no longer trying to attract someone, but I just can’t make myself believe that.  It would also be convenient, though not as easy on the soul, to blame it on past experiences and old mindsets that I just can’t shake completely.  For now, I will try not to worry about whose fault it is that I feel this way and simply concentrate on fixing it.  Today, it’s a dress.  Next week, haircut.  And we’ll go from there. 

Wish me luck.

Ski jumping looks like a truly terrifying endeavor.  It combines a few of my ultimate fears, like skiing and falling from high places.  I would not make a good ski jumper.  One of our little American guys totally just botched his landing.  Like fell on his ass.  But I find it really rather impressive that even when these guys bust ass, they just pop right up and go on down the hill.  Last time I went skiing, I ended up sliding down the mountain on my butt.  No popping for me. 

But enough Olympic commentary.  I was totally blindsided by a different type of gym douchebaggery this evening; I’m not sure why I never thought of it before, but there are lady douchebags out there too!  And I saw many of them tonight, all with this one horrible habit: they don’t know how to use the machines.  I don’t know if they can’t read the instructions or are just completely self-absorbed and hopefully deaf.  That loud banging noise that happens when the weights slam together?  That’s not good!  It’s not supposed to do that!  See how no one around you is doing it like that?  I find it’s worst on the torso rotator (or as I prefer to see it, the ultimate back popping machine), where despite explicit instructions printed right at eye level, they somehow don’t comprehend that you’re supposed to do it one way and then the other, not all the way around all at once.  And it would be one thing if it was an old person, or someone who looks like they haven’t stepped in a gym in thirty years.  But it’s always a 95 lb teenage girl who looks like she’s spent 30 hours a week in a gym.  Or throwing up after meals.

Speaking of too skinny for her own good, ice dancing is on!  Skating is just something I could never get into.  I have mad respect for the folks that can do it, and well at that.  And this pair is skating to a Linkin Park song?  What?!?  Yeah, I liked it a lot better with the sound off.  MUTE.  Sorry.  And why on earth is this guy dressed like a clock?  My guess: preparing for his future career as Cogsworth for next year’s Disney on Ice. 

For a second there, I wanted to think that someone should put together a badass Metal On Ice show.  Like with Motorhead and ACDC.  But there’s nothing metal about ice dancing.  Hockey, maybe.  Dancing?  Not so much.  Winter Olympics needs more full-contact sports.  Less figure skating, more Rollerball.  Let’s see some blood splatters on those sequins! 

And that’s why I’ve never been chosen for an olympic committee.


Evening all.  Today has been a sort of somber day.  From the beginning, I found myself following a little too closely to someone else’s controversy.  I did something I never do: I started reading comments on articles and blogs.  And sure enough, it made me slightly irate and incredibly depressed.  Then some guy flew a plane into a building down the street.  You may have heard about it on the news.  Only a few hours later I got a phone call (after the fact, thank god) from my mother telling me about her horror flight home from New York, how their plane lost an engine and they were actually telling people they didn’t think they were going to make it…luckily the pilot pulled a miracle out of his ass and managed an emergency landing in Little Rock.  Needless to say, mom and BJ rented a car and drove the rest of the way home.  (Aside from that, she also called to tell me she had bought me a stash of Russell Stover nests for me, which made everything suddenly seem okay.) 

I guess what I’ve been thinking about all day is how drama and tragedy and pain tend to bring out the worst in people.  There’s the occasional hero, someone who beats the odds and comes out better than before, sure.  But all too often people choose to, instead, look for someone to blame.  And not often enough, they refuse to look at themselves. 

I’ve had a rough time of it in certain periods of my life.  There was a lot of very unpleasant stuff going on and a lot of pain for myself and people around me.  And it would have been really easy for me to look around and say, “this person did this to me! Look at the horrible things I do because of this!”  But I didn’t.  Sure, I can recognize the series of events that may have led me to act in certain ways, but in the end it boils down to how I reacted to those situations.  That’s something that I learned throughout all my troubles (after a long while, mind you, not in the beginning), that I am the only one who can ever be responsible for my feelings and actions.  No one can make me do anything.  Even with a gun to my face and shouting orders, I still have the choice to obey them or not.  You cannot make me act a certain way, you cannot make me feel a certain way.  What I do and feel are mine alone.  And by recognizing and acknowledging this, I completely accept the blame onto myself.  It’s a very freeing way to live.  I am at the mercy of no one. 

I also have found, in my relatively short time on this earth, that there is almost NOTHING that will offend no one.  It’s physically impossible.  I mean, there are people out there who don’t like chocolate!  Seriously!  But if everyone considered everyone’s feelings but their own before they made a decision, or created something, then nothing would ever get done or made.  We’d be a stagnant waste of life, little blobs of fear and terror hiding in caves, probably freezing and starving to death rather than risk upsetting someone by burning a tree or killing an animal.  I’m not saying we should all just do whatever the hell we want, of course; consequences do and should exist when basic liberties are infringed upon.  But living a life free from ever being inconvenienced or having someone harsh your mellow is not a basic liberty.  Life is hard, life’s a bitch, and you’ve got to be a hard bitch right back to it sometimes. 

Now I know there are all sorts of complications and “yeah but”s out there. (An old friend of mine who’s gone now used to say “yeahbuts live in the woods!” and that was the end of the conversation.  Old people are funny.)  And I’m not saying my life is hunky dory and nothing ever bothers me.  I’m not perfect, I’m nowhere near nirvana or enlightenment or whatever.  But I think I’m doing alright. 

I thought I was going to say something about the guy in the plane, the one that flew into the IRS building, but I’m not.  Mick, being the brilliant man that he is, pretty much beat me to the punch, writing a post that summed up just about everything that I would have said.  When I read it, it makes me want to hug him.  You can read it too; here, I’ll even copy it here so you don’t have to do any work at all!  And that’s where I’m going to leave you fine folks for tonight: in the most capable hands of my most amazing friend.

The sky is falling, the sky is falling!

There was a plane crash in Austin today.  Early reports indicate that a deeply troubled man set fire to his house and then flew a small plane into a building that houses, among other things, an IRS office.  It’s a tragedy.  I think we can all agree that it’s a tragedy, can’t we?

I’m already seeing posts blaming the attack on the government.  The conspiracy theorists have already started in claiming this is a psychological operation, one more rung in the New World Order’s attempt to bring Martial Law to the United States. The left-wingers are blaming the right-wingers, especially the tea-baggers (I could write an entire rant on those folks, but I won’t).  The right are already screaming that Obama is going to use this to condemn the “liberty movement”.

I DIGRESS ONLY SLIGHTLY:  Does anyone but me find it funny that the same people who used to call you unpatriotic if you didn’t support our President (when that was Bush) are now calling themselves Patriots for NOT supporting our President (when it’s Obama)?

This is why I have had to stop being political.  I’m tired of the dogma, tired of the rhetoric, tired of the us versus them arguments.  Conservative good, liberal bad.  Everything is Bush’s fault, everything is Obama’s fault.  Sarah Palin is apparently calling for another revolution.  And no one seems to give a shit that the country is spiraling down the drain, not because of the liberals, not because of the conservatives, but because of party politics.  It’s more important to follow the party line so your district can get fat pork barrel projects and your candidate can get elected and who can we blame for the mess we’re in.  Forget about fixing the mess.  Forget about representing the people.  It’s a power game.  I’m not going to play anymore.

I want to care.  I want to be involved.  I want to make a difference.  There’s simply no one to believe in anymore.  Left, right, conservative, liberal; they are all the same as far as I’m concerned.  Men and women who are pretending to care about what we, the people, care about, but who in reality care about nothing but furthering their own power, primarily the power to make a profit.  Cash rules every thing around me.  CREAM, get the money.  Dollar dollar bill, y’all.

I feel sorry for the man who did this.  His life took some tragic turns.  From his purported suicide note it would seem that life dealt him a bad hand and it didn’t do anything but get worse.  He snapped.  I can sympathize with that.  I’ve been beaten down by life in the past, and it’s hard not to snap.  This guy snapped, and he did something horrible.  Thankfully, it appears that he may not have killed anyone, or if he did it’s only one or two people.  I feel sorry for the person or people who may have died in this incident.  What a way to go, you’re just doing your job, you walk in to the break room, and POW, a plane slams into the building.  I feel sorry for the poeple who were there and didn’t die.  That’s a weight to carry around for the rest of your life.  Trust me, near death experiences like this will fuck with your head.  It’s tragic and sad and we should all be hugging the ones we love, thankful for one more day to share with them.  We should be reaching out to the people who were hurt by this.  What should we not be doing?  Playing the blame game.

I weep for my country.  I pray for a Renaissance, a wave of enlightenment that will wash over us and lead to a new generation of leaders who will put the needs of the people before their own self interest.  Leaders who aren’t beholden to a party doctrine.  Leaders who care more about what’s right than what’s profitable.  I pray for that, but I don’t believe we’re going to get it anytime soon.

What can we, the people, do?  One thing and one thing only.

Be good to each other.


Holy crap, I still need to blog today!

I’m going to make this quick, cuz I have a ton of crap still to do tonite. It’s just been one of those days where I’ve been moving and working non-stop since I got up. Also, had I known it was going to be pouring rain all day, I wouldn’t have put off going down to South Congress until this afternoon. Not a good idea. It took me three hours to get down there and back. I’m cold, I’m tired, and I’m still busy. Woof.



Yes, well, so, I’m going to keep this short so I can get back to it.  You kids behave while I’m gone.  Love ya, mean it, bye bye.

Trouble with a Capital T

You know what I hate?  Fucking nosy people.  People who think everyone’s business is their business.  People who want to criticize and make assumptions in other people’s affairs that don’t affect them in any way whatsoever.  And who are real passive-agressive about it too. 

You know what else I hate?  How the loudest people in the whole damn company are always the ones to leave their office/classroom doors open so you can listen to them blather on all day.  When I can’t hear the person on my phone cuz you’re screaming about Microsoft Project (to a room of only 10 people), you’re too loud.

You know what I don’t hate?  Jim Croce.  ”Box #10″ just popped up on my iPod and made me smile really big. 

You know what else I don’t hate?  Being appreciated.  Even if they’re just making a joke or trying to be flirty, it’s still nice to hear.  Earlier a random student said as he passed, “I don’t care what they say, you’re doing a great job!”  I giggled appropriately, cuz old people are funny when they say silly things like that, but it does make me feel slightly better.  Maybe he can tell I’m just sitting here hating life, that I’m having a long rough day, that I’m tired and frustrated and feeling pretty underwhelmed with this whole Tuesday thing.  Here’s a note for any of you corporate-types (or people of any type, for that matter): receptionists are people too!  Some of my favorite people to work with are the two guys who call from San Antonio and Dallas almost every day who always ask how I’m doing, who take the time to chit chat and laugh with me instead of just making demands.  They may not know it, but they make my afternoon sometimes.  Thanks guys! 

I talked to an extremely friendly gentleman from the office in Washington DC the other day who was originally from East Texas, and after talking for a good ten minutes about the crappy day we were both having, he told me he hoped I found “a frog split four ways”.  I have absolutely no idea what this means.  Piney woods folks?  Old people?  I assume he’s not speaking literally; either that or I hope I don’t find a frog split four ways, cuz that would just be kinda disturbing.  Unless it’s for some sort of hoodoo ritual or something, I can work with that.

Hey, I finished the Baby Burrito!  WTF is that, you ask?   No, it’s not just a little burrito, or even a very tiny donkey.   It’s a hooded baby blanket/towel sort of thing, knit from cotton and all soft and stuff.  You know, for babies. 

...or a baby owl!

 It’s for a friend, one of the seventeen friends I have who are pregnant right now.  But it was really fast and easy to make, so I might throw together a few more before the Spring Fling next month.  I’m getting quite a stock built up now, which is cool.  My project for this week is to make up some more Tamara hats, as I sold out my last one today.  Which reminds me, knitted items make fabulous Valentine’s Day gifts! :)   I know there’s not much on the Etsy site right now, mostly because I can’t afford to sell out a ton of stuff before the Spring Fling.  I’m hoarding and saving up and being cheeky about the whole thing.  But if you’re interested, I’m totally willing to do private shows for anyone who wants to see the full Hell Bent collection.  You come to me, I’ll come to you, whatever works.  Just throwing it out there! 

And in a separate post, I’ll write up the super-simple pattern for the Baby Burrito, for your knitting enjoyment!

Well kids, I must get to work on some dinner for my wonderful, overstressed, overworked husband.  (He’s not the only one who’s overstressed and overworked, but hey, I do what I gotta.)  Catch ya later.

Sick and tired.

Good morning darlings. Once again I must apologize for not posting yesterday.  The sickness is not being kind to me.  You may have noticed that when I get sick, I tend to become a huge baby and want to do whatever it takes to not be sick anymore.  That usually means go home, get in bed, and don’t come out until you feel better.  Some days, like the last two, this can be incredibly inconvenient, as I had much planned and even more to do in preparation.  So the sickness not only makes me feel bad physically, I feel even worse emotionally for missing out on the things I needed and wanted to do.  And then, because I’m slightly insane, all this leads to some pretty wild paranoia. 

Usually once the paranoia sets in, I begin to realize that I’m slipping back into the realms of crazy, and use that as an excuse to get off my ass for a bit and at least try to be semi-productive.  I just started a load of laundry and here I am writing to you fine folks. 

I’m not sure what’s going on with the movie channels lately, but they seem to be on some sort of John Wayne kick.  Not that I’m complaining, I love The Duke and have no problem watching a few of his films in a row.  Last night TCM showed True Grit, one of those many films that I’d seen as a kid but never seen the end of.  They followed that up with one of my favorite movies ever, The Shootist.  It’s a great film in its own right, but even better due to the personal significance for its star, I think.  John Wayne, like his character JB Books, had cancer at the time of the filming and knew he didn’t have a lot of time left.  So he brought together tons of friends to work with on his last project.  Jimmy Stewart, Lauren Bacall, Richard Boone, Scatman Crothers, and more.  (I’m not IMDB, look it up yourself.)  Anyways, there’s more of The Duke on Encore Westerns today, starting with The Comancheros and McClintock! later.  That’s probably what I’ll be doing the rest of the afternoon, depending on when Mick gets home.  That and a fair bit of knitting for the friend whose baby shower I’m missing today.

Well now Mick is home, The Comancheros is over, and they’ve moved on to The Gambler part III.  I stuck around long enough to hear the song, and now I’m done.  I’m gonna go finish the laundry and maybe bake a cake.  You kids take care, I’ll bring you more interesting news tomorrow.

Time to play the game!

*cue entrance music!*

I wish I had entrance music and a ridiculous nickname.  And pyrotechnics.  That would be sweet. 

You may have guessed, I’m watching Monday Night Raw.  Not simply because it’s on and Mick is watching it, but because William Fucking Shatner is guest hosting tonight. 
(Side note: did Vince McMahon just go ahead and buy Rage Against the Machine?  They’ve got like 4 songs now.) 
I know it’s silly, but I do enjoy me some WWE once in a while.  I’m a big mark for Triple H, in all his oily, orange-tan, Motorhead-strutting glory.  And then Shatner too?  A decent combo, that’s for sure.  Not quite as adorable as Spader/Shatner, but hey, what is? 

C'mon, how cute is that?

Seriously, one of my favorite TV couples ever.   

But enough of that.  Actually, I don’t really have anything for you today.  It’s been…well, it’s a Monday.  Another day that made me want to walk out of my job and never return.  Instead, I channeled my anger into a passion for scouring the WorkInTexas website and throwing down applications all across Craigslist.  I also decided that for my birthday, I was giving myself a Monday off.  PTO for the 15th has been approved, happy birthday to me! 

And that, my friends, is as much as I can muster tonight.  But I’ll tell you what, Mick is cooking up a pretty hilarious blog right now (I’m reading over his shoulder), so keep an eye out for that!  I’ll try to be more interesting tomorrow. 

Be good, kiddos.

I started out as a child…

Today I am wearing corduroy pants!

I declare this proudly, exclamation point and all, because I don’t think I’ve ever in my life owned corduroy pants before now.  They’re kind of fun, if for no other reason than that they remind me of an old Bill Cosby joke.

…you got a pair of cordoroy pants on, you turn into a one man band! You know, VOOM-VOOM Flap. VOOM-VOOM Flap. VOOM-VOOM flap.  Except I’m wearing a pair of heels and the stiletto has worn down to the nail, so I’m more like voom-voom click.

And I don’t care who you are or how pretentious you want to be, Bill Cosby was funny back in the day.  And today, I need a good laugh.  Not sure what the deal is, blame it on the rain or Aunt Flo or the futitily of pointless work or the smell of dreams smouldering, I’m just feeling sour.  In rehab they used to make us do an exercise every morning where we’d write down five things we were thankful for; it’s supposed to put you in a positive frame of mind to deal with the little problems of everyday life.  And it works, for the most part.  It does help me to prioritize the things that are “going wrong”, and I can get a better grip on what actually needs to be done and what can stand to just sit and fester for a while longer.

Speaking of sitting and festering, I’m back from lunch and full of Whataburger.  Blaaaaarghmmmmmmnomnom.  I feel like Jabba the Hutt.  Han, ma bukeeOh ho ho ho ho.  And upon my arrival at my desk, I found that I am now an approved Amazon.com Associate!  Why is this exciting?  Well, for you, it means I can put neat little banners and widgets and handy links to products I want to promote or recommend, and you get one stop shopping!  I can tell you how awesome something is, then give you a direct link to purchase it.  Pretty handy, no?  And if you purchase through that link, I get a little tiny bit of kickback.  So you’re paying the same amount and giving less of it to the giant megacorp.  It’s a tiny way to fight the man, but it’s something! 

Wanna see it in action?  Check out Mick’s blog from yesterday for a taste.

Or look!  Here’s a link where you can buy the awesome book I’ve been reading, A Game of Thrones by George RR Martin!

Kinda spiffy, I say.  Enjoy!

The world is just awesome.

When all else fails…Discovery Channel. 

Was that in my blog of awesome things way back when?  If not, it totally should have been.  This is reality TV I can get behind. 

I probably should have stuck with my childhood dream and become a scientist.  Technically I always wanted to be a marine biologist, ever since I was tiny tiny.  I remember taking a Jaques Cousteau book to preschool for show-and-tell.  I think I wore out three copies of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea before I was eight.  Unfortunately, I lacked the discipline in my teens to do much of anything that would have allowed me to pursue a scientific career.  Instead I went in the Liberal Arts direction, got my English degree.  And now I’m in a low-paying, mind-numbing, dead-end job, trying to compete in the entertainment industry that I abhor and writing a silly little blog every day.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad, and the choices I’ve made have gotten me all of the amazing things I do have in my life now.  But part of me would kill to be working out at the McDonald Observatory, bringing amazing new discoveries to the world.  Or operating a deep sea submersible, cataloging new species of crazy looking fish.

(By the way, Bear Grylls totally just ate a giant fucking worm that he found in a log.  Ugh.)

Well the point of that whole little rant, I guess, is to say that I love science.  I love learning about the world around me, what it’s made of, how things work and why they work the way they do.  And I don’t get to do enough of that, enough discovering.  I have so many questions, all the time.  Like if you’re forced to eat a bug, is it better to eat it alive or kill it first?  Or, what other things could I possibly eat before having to resort to eating a bug?

I guess maybe that’s my calling in life: to find things out and write them down.  The little academic voice in the back of my head is saying “throughout history, scribes have been very important, revered members of society.  Without written history and a record of discoveries…” blah blah blah.  Yeah, okay, you’ve made your point.  I don’t know, maybe I just don’t feel like being a writer tonight. 

Instead, I’m going to be a bather and a reader.  We’ll see if a bit of quality fiction doesn’t make me feel better.

So I just got back from the gym…

Yes, it’s one of those blogs.  But just for a moment so I can tell you about GYM DOUCHEBAG NUMERO UNO!  I’m sure you know the guy: fake tan, fauxhawk, some kinda Jersey Shore ripoff.  So I’m over in the freeweights, minding my business, trying to not look like a pussy with my 10 lb weights, when I see him looking at me in the mirror.  Creepy, right?  So of course I have to walk past him to put my weights up, and when I do he says something to me.  I thought it was pretty obvious by the large white cords hanging from my ears that I don’t wanna talk to anyone, but that didn’t deter mister shiny-pecs.  So I stop, take the time to pause my iPod, and let him know that I couldn’t hear him.  Of course I’m trying to be polite, because maybe I sat in gum or my shoe is untied, giving him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he’s just being courteous.  And he says to me, “So, you come here often?”

Really?  People actually, really say that?  In real life?  I stopped “Bat Out of Hell” for that

For a moment I was relatively speechless; luckily my snark factor kicked in rather quickly and I gave him the “yeah, with my husband”, complete with eyeroll and quick departure from the area.  As you can see, I’m still a little stunned. 

Maybe it’s because I’m a writer and my mind is endlessly arranging and rearranging words, meticulously calculating everything that comes out of my mouth, but a certain part of me expects people to be at least a little creative.  I know that’s probably silly of me, and a lot of people just lack the capacity, the imagination.  And it might be unfair of me to judge someone based on their lack of linguistic skills, but first impressions are key a lot of times.  I wish there was some way to rig a sign, something that tells people “Your large muscles and orange tan do not impress me; your words better make up for it.”  Or something to that effect.  “Come here often?”  Gah.  Wasted words.

Now don’t be hasty, master Merriadock.  It takes a long time to say anything in Old Entish, and we don’t say anything unless it’s worth taking a long time to say.

This is how my brain works, by the way.  Seemingly random quotes and lyrics fly around all the time, occasionally popping into prominence for one reason or another.  You’ll get used to it. 

Also, just FYI, my favorite human-specific curse: ass-douche. 

I feel like a slacker for not having worked harder on Big Green the last couple of days, so I’m going to try and knock some of that out tonight.  I’m almost finished with a section that’s supposed to look like intertwining trees…and it does!  I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I have a habit of second-guessing myself; it’s always nice, though, when things turn out the way they should.  The trees look like trees!  The schnozzberries taste like schnozzberries!  And it’s all happy times. 

I’m getting more into Game of Thrones too, slowly but surely.  I’m not doing much time on the bike and treadmill, so it’s coming in little spurts.  One trend I’m noticing: incest.  I guess it’s not so unusual for royal families, but it’s still just the tiniest bit surprising when I do come across it.  And I like that.  I like being surprised.  Dune is also progressing quite well, over halfway through now and it still seems like it’s just getting going.  I guess that’s the idea when you have a series of 700 books.  And maybe that was a detrement of me watching the movie first: I already know what’s coming and I keep thinking, “ok when are they gonna get to this part?”  Luckily all the stuff that didn’t get into the movie is really pretty awesome, so I’m definitely not getting bored in the least. 

Now I think I’m going to have myself a hot bath and a cup of tea, then some knitting work.  I hear Mick plugging away in the other room, so you should have something wonderful to read from him very soon too!  Take care, my preciouses.  Hasta manana.

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