Looking For A Comic Con Virgin?? Don't Look Here Anymore!

I finally went to Comic Con for the first time. A Comic Con virgin no more! Well, I can't speak for the rest of the lot there...
I was told it was going to be overwhelming. I was told it was going to be action-packed. I was told it was going to be awesome. I was told right. Excited and nervous, I waited these last few months for the day when all my nerd dreams would come try. I can say that it was pretty awesome. I got to meet Mark Duplass (Pete from The League) who was very nice,even though his publicist wanted him to stop signing autographs 15 minutes in--I was not having that crap; she must have seen my face and changed her mind. I also got to see the cast of The League who were hysterical, of course.

We hit the floor in full force the moment we got there and were overwhelmed with the crowds of people. It was hard getting through the aisles and hard to see everything that we passed so we had to loop around a few times. And even though Comic Con states it's kid friendly, don't bring your kids!! All we were doing was tripping over little toddlers who were lagging behind and baby carriage wheels! It's too small of a space already. I think there should be an age limit, like 8. 8 is a good year. Plus they'll appreciate it more.

It was interesting to see the big name celebrities who were there signing autographs (Patrick Stewart, William Shatner, David Duchovny...) who also charged a ridiculous amount of money to get that signature. Not only did people have to wait on line for 1-2 hours, but then they had to pay $40-90 for that autograph. And extra if they wanted a picture! I think that's insane. I know these celebrities have to make money somehow (and believe me, they're probably getting paid a lot of that money for just waking up in the morning) and charging a fee is a sort of crowd control but these are your fans. These are the people who put, and keep, you in business. $90 for your signature is pretty extreme, Sir Patrick Stewart, especially since that doesn't come with a latte and a discussion about politics at the local Starbucks.

It was also interesting to see the people who dress up. I feel like Sunday is the low-key day, so I'm probably going to try to get Saturday tickets next time when there are more costume competitions. Some people are career cosplayers and do this all the time and some were just dressed up for fun. I'm all for expressing yourself and being what you want to be, but I feel that when you're dressing up to imitate someone or something, you should try to actually embody that thing. It has to be somewhat realistic or else you're just you in a costume. And that makes you a bit weird. Of course there were those girls who dressed up in unnecessarily sexy costumes: sexy batman, sexy transformer. I saw so many ass cheeks and boobs it was like a club on a Friday night. And the super high heels were ridiculous! You look ridiculous hobbling around at the 5th hour hanging onto your boyfriend. No one thought that was cute. No one. Also, again, I'm all about being comfortable with who you are and you're body, but when you squeeze into a costume with cutouts and your rolls are hanging out, you don't look comfortable and, in turn, you make ME UN-comfortable. Play to your strengths, not to your weaknesses, people. Aside from that one sexy problem, it was nice to see people be original with their costumes. There were some repeats but they all had a twist to them which I liked.

Now that I know what to expect, I'm definitely going next year. In a costume. And it will be the best costume ever. And I may even go two days, who knows. It was definitely overwhelming but worth it and we were thankful to have Columbus Day off to recover from the nerdgasm. Until next year, Comic Con!

Gray Matter

Around my 25th birthday, my hairdresser announced that she found a gray hair on the back of my head. I was horrified. 25?? Really?? I shrugged it off and told her it was probably a blonde hair. She pulled it out.

When I was 27 1/2 years old, she laughed again and said, "oh I found another one!" I insisted it was one of my bleached hairs in my streak.

At 28 years and 3 months, reality hit me like a hurricane. As I looked in the mirror I saw something glisten. I looked closer at the front of my head, trying hard to separate the individual strands of hair. It was there, mocking me, a single silver hair. It was half the length of the rest. It had just grown in, independently free, without a care and full of confidence. It said to me, "Ha! my friend Time brought me. Hello. I'm not going anywhere".

As the years pass, we sometimes don't realize what's happening to us. We're caught in the middle of work and bills and life that we sometimes forget that we're getting older. Then one day we step back and see ourselves outside of our bodies, as people we see on the street. You know how when you have to describe someone you say, "...a lady who's about 40 years old, with the short brown hair". I don't think of myself as 28 years old, I'm Natasha. I've been the same person. But now I'm the lady who's almost 30 with green eyes and blonde streaks in her hair. Someone younger than me is describing me like that. Someone younger than me thinks I'm old!

We hear a click in our knees and we say, "oh I've been working out too much. I think I pulled something" when in reality, it's just us getting old. No one really tells you what it feels like. Things just happen to us and we adjust and take them to be what they are. I have gray hair, I get tired at a bar at 10pm, my knees are stiff when I sit too long, I'm getting older. Then I think, I remember when I was 5 years old. I remember standing in the stairwell with my Minnie Mouse sweatshirt waving goodbye to my mother. It can't be that long ago! That was 1990. And it seems like it was yesterday. You know, the 90's....that was over 20 years ago! That's insane. We've traded places with our parents, the people we used to roll our eyes at and say, "you were young like 20 years ago! You have no idea what life is like now!"

I don't feel like I'm old. I don't feel like I've done all the things I'm supposed to do. And now I realize why some people don't act their age, because they haven't really realized their age yet. We condemn people who are in their 40's and still acting like they're 25. We scoff when we hear that people are dating someone 20 years younger than they are. But it makes sense. George Clooney makes sense now. Time passes so fast that we sometimes miss our real age. One year just blurs into another at some point and it's all the same. It's all one continuous day, and we just live it.

The Lost Art Of Friend Keeping

I was recently thinking about friendships and I came across an article in Women's Health which was quite apropos. It stated that because of things like Facebook, our generation no longer has real friends but acquaintances. Thinking of your "friend" list on FB how many can you say are REALLY your friend? Maybe 5? And even that may be too high nowadays. Or as Women's Health puts it, "How many of the friends hanging around in your feed would you bother to ask to brunch?". Even if we do have those 5, we often neglect them. There used to be a time when your only option was to pick up the phone to see how someone was doing. Or have someone over for coffee to just shoot the shit and gossip about the other girls. Everything's so impersonal now.

Forget the fact the we have so few real friends. My bigger concern is the neglecting part. The times when you don't see your supposed friend for 3 months and she lives in the same borough. Oh, you were just going to give me the 'I'm so busy' excuse? Yeah, I thought you were. We say that all the time. That we're too busy. But unless you're working until 9pm every single day, there's no way you can't carve out 2 hours of your time to have dinner or a drink. We've become a culture where we make room for our friends when it suits us, when they're useful for a time until we get bored of them or find something better. Now, I'm not saying that's everyone, but there seems to be a lot of this from what I've observed. Also, I'm not talking about the flaker. You know, that person who you never really rely on because they always cancel on you last minute or take two days to answer your text. That person, bless their heart, was made like that. You just have to work around their weakness.

I'm talking about the person who is attached to you (for about 2-6 months), who you go to dinners with and happy hours and is always free to do things, and then slowly disappears. And then reappears when it's convenient for her or him (some boys do this too!). She's bored or she broke up with her boyfriend. That one is the worst--the disappearing girlfriend act. We know, you're in love and you want to spend every waking moment with this person, so you stop going to happy hours and start becoming a craft beer expert (because that's the only thing your boo drinks) and are always too tired or busy to do anything--but then it ends. And you text your friend, "drinks tonight?". And she doesn't respond until tomorrow because she found someone new to have drinks with. Because you left her on her own and it's no fault of hers if you were the one who disappeared. And Women's Health makes a good point "when a great romantic date ends you'd never say, 'we should do it again sometime", and then let it go for three months. Why don't your girlfriends get that same courtesy?"

The older I become the more I realize that you need to hold on to the few real friends you have. We don't have the luxury of meeting new people like we did in College so why not make sure that the bonds you do have are fully strengthened. What people don't understand, and I've tried to explain it to a few who get married and then disappear, is that you got married. You're not 85 years old and bedridden. You don't have kids to look after. You have now locked that guy down and will get to see him for the next 50 years. You should go out with your friends as much as possible because once you have kids, it's all over. No one will ever see you again. They will have to come to you. And chances are you'll be trying to catch up over Sesame Street and Goldfish crackers and dirty diapers instead of over Cosmos and the creepy middle-aged man buying your group drinks at the local bar.

There's No Place Like Home...I Think

It's 4am and I am currently sitting on my tiny island (my bed) waiting to hear the sounds of an unwelcomed mouse (or mice)some where in my wall. This is what has become of my life: waiting for daybreak when it is safe to finally sleep. My house, which used to be my refuge, has now become my nightmare. And if you've ever been alone and had the pleasure of being startled awake by scratching in the wall, you know how I feel. My summer vacation has been wasted by running away from my house to avoid the mice and untanable 79 degree weather.

This is not the first of my house woes nor do I believe it to be my last. I have been cursed with apartment afflictions ever since I moved out of my moms. That's not looking so bad now....

There was the rape tunnel apartment in the side alley of a building. Looking back I wonder why I thought it was a good idea to live there and also, how my mother LET me live there. That lasted 8 months. Mostly because I was terrified that someone was always trying to kill me in my isolated ground floor hovel and partly because a bum moved into the alleyway right outside my door and I feared he would return. I think the mafia took care of that one for me though...

Then there was the major apartment upgrade in Spanish Harlem that seemed too good to be true. Kids, if it seems too good to be true, it most definitely is, so run the other way. Fast. New appliances, balcony, laundry in your apartment, gym in the basement, doorman....Yes doorman, who drunk-dialed me from the lobby one night to profess his love to me. That wasn't even the worst of that place. Leaky ceilings, shady landlord, crazy roommates, and some other shenanigans and memories that will last me a lifetime. I could write a book about that building. We will save it for another time.

Now there's this place. I thought I was away from the craziness and drama. That lasted about 6 months. Aside from the inconsiderate neighbors, who wear heels at 1am and walk like baby dinosaurs, I now have mice in the neighborhood who make a frequent visit to my wall. Tonight, I was also greeted by a very large skunk who had no problem coming right up to my door. The only upside is that little bugger (who I've named Bull) eats mice so that problem will soon be gone. Then, what to do about that skunk...

I can't win. And what I find interesting is that I am so careful when it comes to picking apartments! I look and look and make sure everything's right. And I still get the fuzzy end of the lollipop! I don't know what it is. Hopefully this will be the last one, the third of the triad. Bad things come in threes, right?

There's An Empty Seat By Me!

I went to the movies for the first time by myself. There's a lot of things I've done alone: travel to another country (a bit insane. I don't know how I did it), hook up all my electronics (poorly), eat dinner out (at fast food its ok, at diner it gives me anxiety), build furniture (some pieces are backwards but hell, they're still standing!). But I've never went to the movies solo.

When I was in high school I remember going to the movies with my family. I remember the theater, where we sat. I don't remember what movie it was because I was too focused on the old man sitting alone a few rows in front of me.
I noticed him before the previews started and I thought it was sad that he was alone. Apparently, before this, it didn't dawn on me that one could attend a movie alone--I always thought it was a family thing. I watched him and wondered why he was alone. Maybe his wife was driving him crazy and he needed to get out of the house. Maybe he wanted to see the movie and she didn't so he saw it and she went shopping. Maybe she was dead and he was all alone.

I had nothing to do yesterday so I went to see Man Of Steel. It wasn't that crowded so I found an unoccupied row and sat on the second seat in. There were some couples young and old, some moms and their kids, and some solo people. Five minutes before it started some Eastern European woman asked if the seat next to me was taken. I said no and she sat down. Solo. I thought it was weird since there were so many other seats but I guess she wanted the security of being next to someone as well and I welcomed the company. I even contemplated sharing my snack with her but then I thought that would be too weird. Also, what if she was one of those who talked through the movie? Then I would be all embarrassed when people thought we were together.

The only bad thing about going to the movies alone that there is no one to talk to about it afterwards. That's the fun part I guess. Discussing what you liked and what you didn't. Nonetheless, I survived my first solo movie. It wasn't that bad. It helps that it's dark and no one can really see your face. I like dark places.

No. Just No.

9:15pm. Thursday night. Drunk man approaches three girls minding their own business in a bar. He proceeds to barely make sentences and spill his beer in a plate of chicken fingers. He is not the first man to do this. Nor, will he be the last.

It's interactions like these that make you question why you left your house in the first place. I mean, it's entertaining sometimes, but mostly it's just sad. I've found that as I've gained years, I've depleted in patience for other people. Firstly, this man was too old to not be able to hold his liquor at 9pm on a weeknight. Secondly, did he really believe any of us were going to succumb to his irresistible opening line of 'what's going on, ladies?". Any self-respecting woman knows that it is not worth talking to a man who slithers up to your table uninvited and ends a sentence with a sleazy tone and an address of 'ladies'.

Within the first two minutes of quietly paying him attention I realized that he was the type of person who would not go away easily. After I reached my threshold for common idiocy and strangers existing in my personal space, I began shaking my head and stating 'no, no, no no. NO.' as if I was scolding a naughty puppy or a toddler. He looked at me glassy-eyed as I asked him what he wanted. He stated that he wanted to be friends. I told him that that was very nice, but we did not want to be friends with him. After about 10 seconds of looking into his crazy eyes and him stating that I needed to get off whatever pedestal I was on, he finally turned his attention to two girls at the bar.

He had finally found the girls with low self-esteem/self-worth that he was looking for all night and who were not bothered by a stranger trying to put his hands down her pants within the first 5 minutes of meeting her. Those girls are the reason this guy exists. I thought it was funny that he mistook my complete disinterest and distain of his behavior to mean that I thought I was better than him and sitting on some imaginary pedestal like a princess. Now, if having standards as to how strange men should interact with women they are hitting on, or not liking beer being spilled on me by said stranger means that I sit on some pedestal, then by all means make it look like the Iron Throne. He shook it off and tried again instead of sitting in the corner embarrassed and reflecting on his behavior. And, instead of all girls in that bar banning together and says "no. no no. no.' to this man, those two wombats interfered with his house training and told him he was a good boy and gave him a lollipop after he shit all over the new carpet.

It's hard out there to begin with. Condoning bad habits only makes it harder. And, I sit here and try to figure out the chicken or the egg situation at hand: Did the bad-behaved men come first or did the girls with low standards begin this cycle?

Sore Losers

Last Tuesday I went to trivia at a bar near my house. My group won. You don't realize how serious people take trivia until you win. I mean I hate losing, and I kick myself for not knowing the answers that I should, but I can't change the facts. I wasn't good enough that time. It is what it is. But people who always win take it worse when they finally lose. Which was the case Tuesday night. The locals were not happy that 3 girls walked in and disrupted the order of things.

Now, it definitely helped that we had previously knowledge of the questions given. It wasn't our fault--we weren't cheating! Anyone who knows me knows that I hate things not being fair...people who secretly take out their phones and look up the answers...ugh...
We had gone to a different trivia the week before across the Bronx but it happened to be the same company. Who thought they would be too lazy to come up with different questions! Granted, I already knew a lot of the answers to begin with and one of the rounds was actually different but we did well whether or not we knew the questions beforehand. I mean, one of the rounds was identifying the country of the flags given and translating the food in various languages into English...I got that shit. What I found interesting was that we got some answers we knew wrong and ones we didn't know correct this time. It's funny how the brain works. I digress...

It was close competition, we won by 10 points. We didn't think we would win! Maybe get second or third place, but we did it! Immediately after, one guy passed by and mumbled "you cheated", then smiled and shook his head when I gave him the death stare. The old man next to me that kept inching his chair closer to mine the whole 2 hours, turned and stated that he hadn't lost for the last 3 months. We joked that second place wasn't so bad but he kept talking and I started to feel that he was serious perturbed that he was thwarted by 3 ladies. So I said, "well, there's a new sheriff in town" and we walked away.

The host immediately said how glad she was that we were new and we won and how that man and the other usual groups were obnoxious and constantly giving her a hard time. We told her what he had said and she told us to come back the following week. Which we will be doing tonight. Because the one thing I can't stand are injustices (and obnoxious people). My goal now, is to beat that old man because someone needs to teach him a lesson. Winners can't always win, and losers can't always support the food chain.

Batman had to start somewhere. You think the Joker just appeared once he put on his rubber suit? No. He had to deal with neighborhood thugs who harass meek trivia hosts. And, one of the many gifts that was granted to me by my people is that of patience (I mean, wooden horse, a bunch of men all cramped up there, no Axe body spray...that was some kind of patience). If I don't win tonight, I'll win at some point. I got this shit.

I Looked Into The Mirror...

Last week I looked in the mirror and realized that I've aged. I knew it was going to happen at some point. It's fucking scary.

We don't realize how much we age because we see the same face in the mirror day after day. Except, we probably don't really see it. We don't study it, it just exists so we look past it. Until that day when we finally LOOK.

We never think of ourselves as old. Our twenties fly by and we're pretty much the same person as in high school, just a bit more mature with a lot more bills. And in our 30's we get married and have kids and don't have time to look at anything let alone ourselves. And then, we fall into the abyss of time. And some, age well. And some, not so much. Genetically I'm pretty lucky--there's no one who has aged so badly that they needed to be locked in a belltower. But if that 30 seconds of being concerned that I need to finally invest in an eyecream was THAT scary now, I can only imagine the intensity of the shock when it happens again in 15 years. And then in 25 years. I can't even wrap my head around the concept of me being that old. I strain to try to picture myself and I can't. I can't see myself past a certain age and that's frightening. And then my head hurts. And then I remember that I should stop squinting my eyes because it's not helping the lines so I open my eyes really wide and hold them like that until someone passes and asks me what I'm doing.

I understand why Snow White's step mother had that mirror. She was a bitch, but she was scared. She really looked into the mirror for those 30 seconds just like I did and realized she needed to go to Sephora STAT or...kill everyone who could be considered better looking than she was...Now I kind of feel bad for her.

I want to interview people about aging. Maybe I'll make a documentary about the shock of aging and people can shares their stories. And then I'll have a segment where I show people who have aged poorly and the caption can be "don't feel bad about your lines, you could look like THIS!" Maybe I'll start it the next time I really look into the truth glass...

Silence Is Not Golden, It's Silent

There are signs on the train that say "if you see something, say something". We don't listen to them.

We need to start just saying things. You know when people get really old and they might be senile (or they may not be) but they start being abrupt. They just say things, like unfiltered children, and you're like "grandma! you can't say things like THAT to someone!" And they just shrug it off and go about their business because they're old and death's coming for them and they have nothing to lose. We should live life like that more...like death is coming for us. Because, it really is. We never know when we're gonna go and every single one of us can count at least 5 instances right now where we regret not saying what we wanted to say. Feelings, crimes, thoughts, ideas, beliefs, we should just say them all. We should feel comfortable saying "I don't agree with you because" or "I don't think it's fair that" or "I'm going to tell you some facts and you may not like them". We should. But we don't.

There have been a few instances where I've tried to get other people to say things, to be honest to someone or about something. Just to say it so it's out there. And they don't and everyone's answer is the same, they don't want to rock the boat or they don't want to be the one person who speaks up. But if everyone is thinking the same and not wanting to be the first one then no one is doing anything. It seems like a stupid neverending circle: you don't say something, no one says anything, it happens, you still don't say anything....

Not saying anything is fine if you're content about what's happening. The problem is when you're not. When people are becoming more and more offended or hurt by something or annoyed but are not saying anything to change it. You can't do the same thing and expect a different result. You know what Einstein called that? Insanity. You are insane if you're not making changes.

Someone brought up that being that honest would cause chaos. The trick is, for everyone to be honest to be honest and not to be mean. It may take some time for that to happen, but in the end I think it would work. To be able to say something to someone and for them to calmly (and sanely) say "I hear you and I can see your side but I still don't agree. But I appreciate you taking the time to tell me". How nice does that sound?! But that means that we'll have to get rid of all these emotion-driven women first....where to begin.

Ignorance Is....

They say "ignorance is bliss". Well, I think ignorance is just....well, ignorant. I continue to be baffled as to why people don't care to know about other things or why they don't question what's happening around them. I don't know why this surprises me though. You'd think I would've learned and accepted the limitations of the human race by now. I guess I'm a secret optimist; I want to believe that people want to be better, that people don't want to just exist. Just because you're breathing doesn't mean you're alive right?

I was going over reading music notes with my friend today and we came across an eighth note. Now, I've always had trouble counting it out because it's "1 and, 2 and.." as one note. The 'and' messes me up. So, while going over the count I said "why?. Why do we have that?" She answered "because that's how the composer wrote it" and I said "why? who came up with it? We created music notes right? so why? why can't we just count it as 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4. Why did we complicate it?"

I felt silly asking it because there's no answer. It just exists and that's what it is. That's how it is, and I need to accept it. I would like to know why though. Some people can't see beyond what's in front of them because,most of the time, people don't care. And that makes me sad. Like, for instance, when we travel we should try to learn about the people and culture we're invading. And what I've learned from my recent travels to Italy is that people don't care--they just exist and plop themselves down wherever. Some people think that everyone should speak English and eat the same foods they do, and that may not be YOU reading this (because you're wordly and observant and awesome) but a lot of people do think this way, and it's ignorant. And instead of accepting and learning about it they sneer at it and compare it to their country. And what saddened me is that a lot of the signs in Italy were in English and they listened to our crappy pop music--They conformed to our needs, they accomodated US instead of us trying to fit in and learn the language spoken where we were. Our American ignorance has infiltrated other lands and people are looking up to us and wanting to BE us. We may be a land that's large and loud filled with people and a multitude of technologies but I don't think we should be a role model for other countries.

We need to ask why more. And sometimes we should ask how. And all of the time, we should just ask. Because if we're not asking and not learning, then what the hell are we doing here? Maybe that's just me. Maybe some people are content with just existing, using up resources, aging and waiting for the reaper to come and take them wherever the hell it is we go.

The Road Less Travelled

How do we really know that we are on the right path? How do we know that our choices are correct? There's no way to check our work. There's no answer key. Are we in the right line of work? Did we marry the right person? Should we really have had kids when we did? We just live every day and take it as it comes. But if we have to deal with what we have and take it as it is, then how do we know that we should change? How do we know it's wrong if we can't check to see if the answer is right?

I don't like not knowing things and I don't like being surprised and unprepared. It makes me uneasy, so I guess, then life itself makes me uneasy. I've always stood firmly behind the idea that we learn from experiences (good or bad) and then we do it better but when it's not just about living, when you have to make an actual decision (go right or go left)no one can tell you if you're right. And, for someone like me who loves to check and recheck and operates with the idea that you are either right or wrong at all times, it's not exactly easy to make choices.

My friend recently said to me as we were having a conversation that I should just pick up and move to another city, like London since I'm such an Anglophile. When I said that I could never do that because I'm a worrier and don't like uncertainty, she seemed confused and said "you seem like the type of person who would just do something like that--Who's ballsy enough." I thought that night about what she said and although it seems like a good idea on paper since I don't really have anything tying me down here, I could never do it. It was interesting that she views me as someone who's brave and gutsy and able to run out into the unknown. Brave is not a word I would use to describe me. I'm a perfectionist, a worrier, a realist, bossy, observant, witty but not brave.

Then I thought: What if she's right? Sometimes people can see us better than we see ourselves and maybe I am braver than I think I am. Maybe I'm like Bilbo Baggins who lived on his quiet shire with his predictable life until Gandalf came along and taught him that he was brave and courageous and then he can't stop and yearns for adventure for the rest of his life(yeah, that parallel just happened). So, I've decided that I'm not going to be scared anymore. I am braver than I give myself credit for and I may just start jumping off some ledges this year.

I Resolve to Not Make Resolutions

January. The time of every year where people make "resolutions" that they promise to keep this time. No, really. They will. It's sooo different than last January. And yet, by February (or if lucky by March)it's all forgotten and back to our old tricks and nasty habits.

I learned last year, that you can't force yourself to do things, just because you learned from a young age what and who you're supposed to be, or think that's how you're supposed to be. Last year I gave myself Goals. Yes, I like to call them Goals, maybe it's just a less fancy word but it isn't as daunting as RESOLUTION (which is defined as 'a firm determination'---scary!). Yes, smoking is bad for you and you should quit. And January comes around and you do. For about 3 weeks and then you go back to smoking. Because you weren't ready to let it go, you needed more time! But everyone told you to do it and you listened. Foolish.

I wrote down things that I've wanted to do, or was supposed to do but never did, the projects that I never finished. I wrote the most plausible and easiest to accomplish at the top and then continued with the bigger things. I wrote this list with the desire of completing these things within the year but recognized that I may not be ready for some of them. Sometimes, people fail to realize that they aren't ready for certain things in their lives and forcing yourself to do something is counterproductive and usually always ends in failure.

So, some things from horrid 2012 have rolled into the new year. I recognize that I needed a little more time. And that's ok. Because life is all about timing and patience and I think I may have finally mastered that recently.

I began writing this blog a few years ago, because I wasn't taking many classes and I felt that I was getting stupid and forgot how to properly write. Although last year I didn't write as much as I should've, I'm actually surprised it's survived this long. I tend to get bored of things easily and abandon them, but it's still here and its' the same link from the beginning and I'm quite proud of that. That's one of the goals this year: write more blog posts. I think I'm going to get a check plus for that goal.