Stuff!

-I just got back from visiting Kathleen and Noah in Oregon! It was glorious -- pics soon.

-I got hives while I was there. I have no idea what from. They appear to be gone now, although my wrist is still kind of sensitive and itchy.

-I just finished reading Peace Like a River, by Leif Enger. It's amazing! Beautifully written, but down to earth and engaging. Review soon... maybe? (Probably not; let's be real here.)

-Freelance illustration project going well -- I have to buckle down and get things done in the next month or so. Then in early July I take the MI Basic Skills Test which will allow me to go to Teacher Skool liek a big gurl. So I have my work cut out for me for a while.

-Festival's this weekend! I'm going with Jeffiner! Annual elephant ear, nimbu pani, & misc meat on a stick with a side of sunburn and heatstroke, here I come!

Right in the middle of some gratuitious snuggling

MY WEEK IN PICTURES

ahem...

Snowday!


Unchartered amounts of fanfic reading!


No more epic fanfic reading.

Thanks for nothing, Webroot.

"I do still love my blog, Monica -- my life is just really boring right now. What?? Ouch, stop hitting me!"

I try to go out to my parents' for dinner and a movie or something at least once a weekend. Last Sunday, however, my parents and I went to see True Grit (which was amazing - I'm getting it on dvd the minute it comes out), then they came over to my place for dinner, since I live five minutes from the theater and the movie got out too late for me to go all the way out to theirs. It was really lovely -- my mom brought homemade soup and bread, and I provided salad, drinks, and a little bit of dessert. It had been a few years since my dad had seen my apartment and I've made a lot of changes in that time, so it was fun to get a whole new batch of compliments on the place. I spent the whole weekend cleaning before they got here, so it's also been really nice having a clean, straight living space. It was such a resounding success, in fact, that we decided to do it again this weekend, although now that today has arrived and I am sitting in my bathrobe and blogging at quarter to three (New Years resolution to go to church every Sunday FAIL) and am facing the fact that I actually have to get up and clean now instead of settling in for a lazy afternoon viewing of a movie, I'm sort of having mixed feelings about the idea. Only sort of mixed, though -- I really enjoyed last weekend and I won't miss the drive out to my parents'.

As you may have gleaned from Twitter, I'm currently treating poor Gracie for a UTI. There was this whole drama over trying to get a urine sample out of her involving earplugs and a urine-covered bathroom, and I've been feeding her pills every day since. The nice thing is that it's only been a week, but I'm pretty sure she's getting better! She's suddenly more affectionate than she's been in, like, ever, which makes me wonder how long she was sick (sigh). But she actually approaches me for pets and cuddles more often than Garfunkel does now. She also seems more more energetic and playful than she had been in a little while. Accurate diagnosis and a cuddly, healthy kitty for the win. :)

Don't you know this life goes on

Well, I wasn't quite able to swing starting night-classes this semester, so I'll be starting in the summer. Although it'd be nice to feel like I'm finally moving on, I'm actually kind of happy. It'll be nice having nights free for a while without grad school research or a portfolio hanging over my head. I have delicious plans for finally getting back to weaving, reading a bunch of books, cleaning, redecorating, drawing, toying with photoshop, maybe reading a little fanfiction, plus I'm thinking about taking a 10 week pottery class at the UICA come spring. I've never successfully been able to throw a pot on a potter's wheel, which is something I'll have to be able to teach if I teach high school art. Even if I take a pottery class later at AQ, I have limited confidence in my ability to master the technique without a heck of a lot of practice. Plus, clay is fun. Nothing relieves stress like beating air bubbles out of clay; basically you take the hunk of clay and hurl it at a table with great force. Repeat. Very theraputic.

Kathleen and Courtney are both gone now -- Courtney to Spain to teach English; Kathleen and husband Noah to Oregon for a new publishing job and grad school. I'm legitimately happy that they got out and found interesting new lives to sink their teeth into; they were at least as dissatisfied in their publishing jobs as I was, if not moreso. But... meh. I miss them.

This summer will be my 5 yr anniversary at Workplace, which, while that particular thought fills me with ennui, panic, and despair, it does mean I get an extra week of PTO starting this year. This is something I'd totally forgotten about, and it immediately brightens my mood whenever the thought pops into my head. Chances are I'll be using a great deal of it for classroom visits, but my joy refuses to be quelled. More vacation time, guyz!!!!! Yaaayyyyyy!!!

I can schedule in some Christmas spirit long about New Years

Bah. My boss has decided that before we leave for Christmas, we must be officially Caught Up On All Things, and I am going utterly insane at work this week. The editorial department assistant dropped her usual work to help me out with mine, which she's never had to do before. (My boss has occaisionally asked her to make copies before when I'm busy, but nothing like this.) I may not even be able to take the 23rd off as I'd planned.

On top of this, I'm still finishing up buying and making gifts (although I'm almost there) and getting things wrapped.

On top of that, I'm trying desperately to get lined up to register for night classes starting in January before school offices close for Christmas on Thursday (News Flash: I'm going into secondary ed now, if you didn't know already), but I'm having a hard time figuring out how to navigate state certification requirements, school requirements, prereqs, skills testing, blah blah blah, and can only call and talk to my advisor during business hours when I am, as previously mentioned, going utterly nuts at work.

(See also: why no one in my life has Christmas cards yet, or: why I don't take lunch breaks right now.)

The one good thing is that this is forcing me to be more efficient both at work and at home (it feels sort of like exam week actually), but I'm not getting enough sleep, I keep catching myself grinding my teeth, and BOY I am looking forward to my vacation. Friday is going to be heaven, people. Heaven.

Further picspammery

I so seldom take pictures that now that I actually have, for once, you're getting barraged. Look guys! Evidence that I have a camera! Besides, Fall in New Hampshire = very pretty. Who doesn't want to see pictures of that?

The shoreline at my grandparents' was in full color:

Taking wedding pictures down at the town docks the next day (I actually snagged this one from facebook. The other wedding pics were from fb as well):



I love this picture. All lisa's cousins, friends, etc. are diligently working on scrapbooks and last-minute wedding details while she's over there snuggling with the fiancé. (Although she sort of deserved it at that point.):



And Happy Halloween! I went to a work-friend's party last night, and was desperately trying to figure out a costume at the last minute. At first I was just going to go as Liz Lemon, since I'd just have to wear office clothes and my glasses, but I made a big mistake: Liz Lemon doesn't have curly hair, I thought to myself. She has straight hair! I haven't straightened my hair in years! I'll straighten it, and try to curl it a bit at the ends!

Straight Holly hair, I discovered two hours later, looks perhaps even less like Liz Lemon hair than regular Holly hair does. >:/ Since I didn't have time to reset my curls and didn't want to be confused with Jennifer Aniston from Friends, I went about desperately trying to figure out who else has straight brown hair with blond hilights.

I settled on the character below, specifically from the scene below, since I don't own the iconic cigarette lighter, long black dress w/tons of pearls/diamonds, big hats, whatever/etc. of the other scenes:





Not the most creative or recognizable costume, but I was running out of time.

Here's a close-up on the hairstyle she wears in that scene, since I'm pretty proud of how my attempt at styling mine ended up going. I mean, Holly hair, even straight, is fluffier than normal-people hair (sigh), but still, it's a going down as a big SUCCESS in my book.

The best part is the monk's face at the end

Aaugh, my dad's getting old, guys. I just started to notice it in the last few weeks, but since the heart attack he's been looking older, mostly in the way he holds himself. He's more stooped. He's still tall and strong, but he walks more like an old man now, and he doesn't stand up as straight. He's acting older, too, although I think that change has been more gradual. He's never been the best listener, but he's developed that old person's habit of not absorbing almost anything you say because he's so focused on the conclusion he's already reached, and if you try to point out that you were saying something different than what he thought, he doesn't really absorb it. Also, his tendency to gripe and criticize has become more pervasive and very "back in my day" in tone, like he's crossed the line where he can no longer accept that things just change and has started taking it personally, or like it's all a dire commentary on the downfall of western civilization. He's not like that all the time, but it happens pretty often. It feels kinda like the beginning of the end. :/ Blurg.

Gracie has a knack for knowing when it's time to get back in people's good graces, and caught a mouse yesterday. Or rather, she cornered one long enough for me to get a bowl over it, which is good enough. I'm a bit of a wuss when it comes to killing cute, fuzzy animals, even if they spread disease, so I released it at the other end of the parking lot next to the dumpster. I'm not quite sure how to go about killing a mouse in a way that wouldn't involve mess and squishing anyway. My grandma flushed them live, but I worry it might stop up the toilet, and I'm not keen on the idea of drowning animals, even mice. So I let it go, far from my building, like the soft-hearted pansy I am.

On an unrelated note, I'm downright in love with this video at the moment. Can we all take a moment to acknowledge the difficulty this level of coordination would involve?:

Mawwiage is what bwings us heaow togevah...

My cousin just got hitched! The wedding was in New Hampshire, and it was absolutely gorgeous. Of all the times I've been to NH, I'd never been there in the fall, and it was amazing. My uncle actually took me on a motorcycle ride through the mountains Friday morning -- it was in the mid thirties (I wore 2 pairs of jeans and 3 pairs of socks), but it was totally worth it. Anyway, wedding....


Lisa was gorgeous.



More gorgeousness. If you look closely you'll notice she wore white All-Stars.



Her husband Kreg's a good looking guy, too.



It was beautiful, but really cold out (mid to upper 40sish?). The bridesmaids huddled together for warmth, despite some of us having only just met each other. It appears I am officially Not Paying Attention.



Here I am walking down the aisle. We had a last minute GIRLS! THE GUYS ARE ALREADY UP THERE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE GOING GO GO GO panic, and I totally forgot to smile til I was almost at the front. Oops.



Her daddy about to give her away:



When he was asked who gives this woman in marriage, he answered "her mother, her brother, and I," which was touching and bittersweet. Also, they walked down the aisle to an old recording of her brother John playing Pachabel's Canon. (John passed away 5 years ago.)

Vows:



Aren't they disgustingly adorable?



Exhaustipated.

Drug running is also an option

As a couple of you are aware, I've been enthusing over this one really fabulous art program I've found. It seems to be the only grad program in the country focused on classical figure drawing -- most/all other programs tend to focus on avant garde/modern art, tend to be interdisciplinary, and are more focused on self-directed exploration (which has its advantages, granted). However, this is an entire two-year program built around teaching you to draw the human form really well -- anatomy classes and perspective classes and classes on assembling multi-figure compositions. I've been super-geeked.

I noticed, looking at the student work, that while some of it was impressive, most of it, frankly, was not. However, I knew of at least one graduate whose work I considered spectacular, and I figured I could use the classes to better my own technique even if my classmates weren't quite as advanced (although I started to worry about why the school's admissions requirements were so lax).

Then, very accidentally, I noticed yesterday that it isn't accredited by the National Association of Schools of Art and Design. I hadn't heard of NASAD, but it seemed important, and this prompted further research. As it turns out, School of Choice isn't regionally accredited either.

Poop.

It took a few hours for this disappointment to fully sink in, by which time my mother was over for dinner and able to provide me with a shoulder to cry on and someone to rant to. It turned into an entire evening of waxing and wailing about my concerns and thoughts about going into the world of art in general. She listened very sympathetically and quietly, until finally she chimed in with her grand input for the evening: "...And I heard on NPR the other day that schools are more and more often just hiring adjunct for $2,000 a class instead of taking on new full time faculty."

...Which is the story of how I ended up lying awake past 2am, quaking and crying and unable to decide whether I could most easily face suicide, starvation, or a life wasted toiling away at a job I detested.

Why I couldn't have been born with a brain that tends toward engineering or health care, I'll never understand.

The cats just sat and watched through the window

I've been meaning to call in a few maintenance requests around the apartment: a little plastic decorative piece fell off one of my bathroom faucet knobs, the sliding glass door's lock is broken and keeps falling into the shut/locked position, Gracie has completely shredded the door jams and they should probably be fixed.

Because cats know how to be obnoxious. Yesterday during my lunch break, I was going to pop home for something to eat before stopping at the bank to make a deposit and heading back to work, but alas, when I walked in and put my purse down, I heard Garfunkel scraping at the carpet ...burying ...something. Not only had Garfunkel defecated in the dining room, as he is wont to do when the litterbox is full, Gracie, it turned out, had also peed on the couch.

I love cats.

Any dreams I'd had of making it to the bank dissipated quickly as I cleaned up after the cats, sprayed both spots with stain remover, then went out on the balcony to water my plants while I waited for the stain remover to sink in.

Whereupon, without thinking, I closed the sliding door behind me and locked myself out on the balcony.

Which is how I discovered that you can call for help all you want in my neighborhood and it'll do you no good if everyone's got their windows closed and their A/C on.

Miraculously, my roommate happened to show up only about 20 minutes later, before I had to decide between lowering myself to the ground and waiting for someone to eventually wander by who could alert the apartment office. I was glad to be back in before I needed, say, a bathroom, but a little disappointed that I didn't get to take an impromptu few hours off work. I've got very straight priorities like that.

Case of the ...Tuesdays?

Just wanted to draw your attention to a new(ish) link on my sidebar. If you're not familiar with Hyperbole and a Half, a) you should be, and b) start with this one.

Hope you guys had a nice fourth, and fifth, if you got it off. My monday-that-was-not-a-monday was very much a monday -- I started the day by waking up with a nightmare, vastly oversleeping after I managed to fall back asleep, giving myself a nasty case of razor-burn under my arm while shaving, being absurdly late to work, then managing to overturn a full bowl of cereal onto my lap and the floor about an hour after I got in, resulting in me spending the rest of the morning trying to get milk out of the office carpet, then driving home to change and telling my managing editor to just credit me with having taken the morning off since I got practically no work done. The second half of the day was a vast improvement, but it had nowhere to go but up.

While I'm thinking of it, a heads-up: All year I've been telling myself hey, I'll work on art school research and my portfolio ...laaaater, as if later in the year the days produce not only more sunlight but more hours to work by, or as if working 40 hours a week will somehow magically take up less time next week, or maybe the week after that. Now, however, it's July, and I'm facing the fact that I somehow really have to fit massive amounts of creativity and explosive artistic growth into my current cramped-with-domestic-details, Dilbertesque lifestyle. It's kick-in-the-ass/panic time, and I may be on here a bit less. I'll try to still update at least once a week, but posts may not be as substantial, and as panic takes hold I may not make it quite that often. But comment-chats with you guys always make my day, and I'll try. Leave me little comments to say hi or something if it's been a while?

Art thou not Romeo and a Wolverine?

Hey-o. Just got back from visiting Kyra in Wisconsin. To get there and back I took ...The Ferry. I highly recommend this mode of travel. Instead of dealing with this, this, or, heaven forbid, something like this, I got to read, half pay attention to How to Train your Dragon, dine on overpriced but tasty café food, and in general enjoy 2.5 hrs of this [peaceful seagull noises]. Also, if you don't have anyone to carpool with, it's not much more expensive.

I had a lovely time with Kyra. Madison's like the love child of Ann Arbor and Columbus [Wolverines and Buckeyes everywhere bristle, spit, and cross themselves] -- it has the attitude, style, and look of A^2, but it's bigger, with big shiny new University buildings along the main stretch like C-bus. We hit up Summer Fest before leaving Milwaukee, saw Toy Story 3 (Spanish Buzz ftw), went window shopping, poked around in an art museum, got ice cream, got thai food, got french pastries.... llullll....mmm.

Good times, guys. She asked after everyone; give her a call if you get a chance -- she'd love to hear from you.

Head... spinning....

It has been SUCH A CRAZY WEEK. Like, good crazy, with lots of seeing people and hanging out, but I've been spending the whole evening tonight just catching up on chores and correspondence and random tasks. I'm starting to feel a little more on top of things, but my to-do list for the weekend is still long.

(I feel like such a lame-ass talking about how overwhelmed I feel when half of my friends are PhD candidates. Sigh.)

Tomorrow concludes the Week of Birthday. A couple friends and I have a tradition of kidnapping each other for birthdays, often blindfolded. Tomorrow's activities, I am told, will not include a blindfold, but I've been instructed to wear old clothing and bring a change of clothes including underwear. The suspense is killing me. Usually we just go a restaurant or movie, but unless it's a restaurant that features food fights with pudding-filled water balloons... but that still wouldn't explain the underwear. Update to follow.

Weekends are when I get to pretend I have a life

This weekend, I...

-Planted the last of the flowers I bought for my balcony.

-Bought pants that fit (YAY).

-Spent several hours pleasure-reading.

-Explained to a middle-aged woman who Badfinger is.

-Got coffee with my mom and had a heart-to-heart.

-Pulled ahead from 100 points behind and in last place to hand several people their asses at Dutch Blitz.

-Watched the best movie ever. (No, really.) (PS: 10 points and my eternal love to whoever can figure out who currently owns the rights, so I can start a letter writing campaign to get it out on dvd).

-Ate ice cream twice.

Not at all bad. Two years ago I just watered my unplanted flat of impatiens all summer, and last year I didn't even try. Improvement! Also, I'd almost forgotten how really, really nice it is having pants that fit. Comfy clothing FTW.

She seems confident Adama's not a cylon

As you're aware, Monica's started watching BSG. When previous plans were cancelled on us a few weeks ago, she proposed getting together to start the miniseries instead. It went something like this:

Monica: I have to leave half way through to go do homework, but we can at least get it started.
Holly: That should be doable. I watched it for the first time in two installments. I'll let you know when it's at the half way point.
[Girls settle down with dinner. Movie starts. Monica's rustling wrappers get quieter and quieter.]
Holly: [pauses movie] K, it's half done.
Monica: PRESS PLAY, DAMMIT
Holly: Are you sure? I know you have to—
Monica: NOW

She eventually got to a point where she decided to stop and go home, but by then there were only 23 minutes left and at that point, really, come on, so I talked her into staying. Most vindicating statement of the evening: "I can see why you're obsessed with this!" Always good to have one's insanities validated.

We're moving through s1 at a pretty steady clip, but the much-anticipated EriktheSwede is now in town, so that will put things on hold for a bit. Monica swears she's not going to disappear for the whole summer, that their goal is to spend these three months acting like people in a normal relationship where they're not separated by an ocean, who occasionally come up for air to see other people. We'll see. Frankly, who'd blame her for staying submerged? I've made her promise to see me for my birthday, but the awkward glory of Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down may have to wait.

In other news, I had a really lovely weekend. My friend Kate and I drove to Ann Arbor, where we had dinner somewhere we never could have afforded when we actually went to school there, and where we visited our friends Seth, Theresa, and their 10 month old daughter, Chelsea. I then spent Monday and Tuesday (which I'd taken as PTO) running errands and cleaning. I have finally become that person who uses vacation days to run errands and clean, which I guess means I'm officially a lame adult. I'd feel lamer and more irritated, but it felt just so damned good (just not being at work staring at a screen all day was amazing) that I'm thinking about doing it again in a couple weeks. I really am lame.

My dad's in full support of the movement

My mother has been gifted this shirt:



I can't picture her wearing it, but never let it be said her sister has no sense of humor.

So, I spent the weekend "mother sitting." My dad was out of town, and when we set this up, the idea was that I'd be there if her health deteriorated quickly, and in general to wait on her and keep her company. Of course, she's recovered so quickly that she's pretty much back to normal and didn't really need me around, but we decided to stick to the plan and just have a fun time. We really did have a great time -- it was the sort of weekend we haven't spent together in years, where we started early (for me -- you know, 10ish) and crammed in a bunch of random stuff both fun and practical. The hilight of the weekend for me was spending a couple hours Saturday afternoon doing a massive amount of weeding. I got to spend some time outside in the sun, my mom hates weeding (and I like it) so I did her a massive favor, and the house looks SO much better. We have irises in that corner! I'd almost forgotten! And those lilies of the valley were planted to deliberately line the path! Who knew!

My mom, however, more than returned the favor this evening. My phone suddenly stopped charging, and while I was on said phone telling my mom I'd have to go in to get a new one, Garfunkel was doing his usual sit-on-the-counter-and-claw-at-your-shirt-for-attention gig. I picked him up and dropped him to the floor, but as I was letting go, he managed to get his claws into my [favorite Threadless covered with Pollock-esque paint splotches] t-shirt one last time, and ripped three sizable holes into the front. I screeched, swore loudly, and chased him across the apartment with a pillow while my mom waited on the phone. I came back, explained what happened, apologized, told her I'd be in touch later, and hung up to conserve my battery. 25 minutes later, the door buzzed, and my mother was standing there with her sewing kit and phone charger.

Phone: charged. Shirt: mended. Mom: awesome.

And snaps to her for having the self control not to even give me a look for screaming unmentionable phrases in her ear. She's amazing at not overparenting.

Update!

Mom's surgery went well! It was outpatient, and she's already up and around and chatting (if a little silly on Vicodin). So... yay!!! Thanks for the well-wishing, everyone!

Would I have to start wearing skinny jeans?

My mom's surgery is tomorrow. The MRI had found another lump, but we finally found out this morning that it's benign, so surgery is as scheduled. It's funny, i don't think I'm thinking about it much, then I'm like, gosh, why won't this headache go away and BOY am I exhausted, and huh, my back's kinda sore and tense... oh... right. Apparently I suppress emotion a lot more than I thought I did.

The fact that I'm not sure how to approach art school and am sick of my job and freaked out about my future in general isn't helping. These things always compound and make each other worse. In general I'm doing ok, but I'm discovering that I really do repress emotions, or at least the long term bad ones that I feel like I don't have any control over. So maybe I'm not actually that happy, I'm just telling myself I am? I don't know. I think I'm fine. Just stressed.

I'm discovering some good music, however (Colin Hay omg love), and reading some good stuff at least. I just finished Contact (awesome), and while I decide what meatier book to dive into next, I'm rereading some favorite short stories. The best part of my life these days is the 20 minutes at the end of the day when I'm curled up on the couch with my book, or in bed pressing snooze for the first time in the morning, when I know I don't quite have to get up yet. It ...may be time for a vacation.

Life continues

There's been unexpected improvement on the dad front! His heart, which had been working at 30% capacity (I think I said 35% earlier -- I was wrong), is back up to 65% 58% (EDIT) which is amazing. They said if it improved at all, it would be in the first 45 days, but by that point there'd been no improvement at all. His body continues to defy the medical books. However, one of his... um, ventricles? I dunno -- one of the quadrants or whatever of his heart is extremely enlarged, at 5x its usual size. It's not quite so bad that they're worried about a dangerous amount of arrhythmia (apparently at 6x, they start talking pacemakers), but they're keeping an eye on it.

My mom, on the other hand (for those of you who don't know), has been diagnosed with breast cancer. She had an MRI on Monday to make sure it hasn't spread, and we'll be getting the results early this coming week. Assuming it hasn't, she has a lumpectomy scheduled for next month, followed by six weeks of radiation. But can I be an odd combination of shallow but strangely serious for a moment, and point out how weird the timing was? When we found out, I had just a few episodes of BSG left, and in case you're not familiar with my mom, I should point out point out she's a brunette, blue-eyed retired school teacher. I needed a week or so to emotionally distance myself before I finished watching.

I have been so emotionally involved with this show -- an almost bizarre amount, especially with Roslin's character -- and when I found out about my mom.... I don't know, I felt like the fates were mocking me, or like I'd had my experience with BSG almost to warn me or prepare me or something. (My mom and I are pretty close.) After about a week, these creeped-out feelings calmed down into more rational, normal coincidence territory, but my experience with Battlestar is not one I think I'm going to forget.

"I love cats because I enjoy my home, and little by little they become its visible soul." - Jean Cocteau

Cats can be such a pain. There are days when Gracie won't stop yowling at my roommate's door and Garfunkel won't stop trying to get his 22 lb bulk onto my lap, even though I'm obviously not in the mood. Days when Garfunkel's defecated outside the litterbox, Gracie's peed on the couch, and one of them's barfed all over the living room carpet... all before I've managed to leave for work in the morning.

But there are days when they've both made me laugh out loud before I've been awake even an hour and a half. Garfunkel, who I swear was some sort of pervy stalker in another life, has an obsession with rolling around in my dirty laundry. When I woke up today to the sight of him emersed in a pile of laundry, tail twitching, with two pairs of dirty underwear clutched in his paws, rubbing them on his head, I almost split a gut. Then, Gracie, the more standoffish of the two, was in her endearing uber-affectionate mood, which quickly turned into her wide-eyed OMG MUST PLAY AND SLASH YOUR ARMS OPEN mood. This, albeit dangerous, is one of the cuter and funnier things on the planet. On the whole, I guess they're worth having around.

Gracie is also the more curious and mischevious of the two. I was super amused the other day to find her perched precariously on the upper reaches of my bookshelf:



But even more amused when I went flipping back through my camera to discover that this was the last picture I'd taken, months earlier:



I need to find something new to take pictures of.

In other news, it's raining and I ate chocolate cake for breakfast. Not a bad Saturday so far.