From basement to palace

This is *way* overdue, but my office moved in September and I'm still excited about it!

Over forty people relocated from our basement "rabbit hole" beneath the Freshmen Commons to an elegant historical building with palatial columns, filigreed doors and watery colored glass. We are now on the first floor, which means that torrential rain will no longer flood our space with four inches of water. Yay!

Technically, it isn't a new place; the OGAPS office is actually returning home after a long displacement for renovations. In January of 2013, the University received a grant to restore our building to its original historical state. Here is an article from the TAMU times describing the renovation.

It's definitely an upgrade in every sense of the word, but I'm SO glad the actual moving is finished!

If you've ever moved, you know that a single person's accumulated do-dads, papers, and miscellaneous mess can be daunting. Multiply that experience by about 40, and you've got a pretty good idea of the task we faced. By God's grace we made it to the end with relationships still intact. :)

When the Jack K. Williams Building was built in 1932, its grandiose architecture would have made quite an impression. The Great Depression had made its paralyzing presence known across Texas by that time, and the farmer's sons coming to school from small, dusty Texan towns had probably never seen anything like it.

For many years, all of the University's administrative offices--from the President's office to the Registrar--were housed here. (Our suite actually still contains the original vault where student's cash tuition payments were locked!) For this reason, the building was originally called simply the Administration Building. In 1998, the name was changed to honor the work of former University president Jack K. Williams for his work to increase enrollment while preserving traditional historical landmarks on campus. 

The sweeping staircase in the lobby makes our building a popular spot for bridal pictures. We can see the photographer's flashes through the filigreed door that fills our suite's front entrance, and it makes me remember the fun of taking my own bridal portraits three years ago.

My favorite part of the building is the wide shaded porch that faces the University's green front lawn like a benevolent grandmother. When I sit with my lunch on the cool steps, the smooth columns soar upward to the fourth story roof above my head.

Here are a few more pictures of the details!

Soggy

Only three weeks on the job, and already I’m part of an office-wide adventure. In my head, it’s called Operation Soggy.

 

 

If you live near us, you probably woke in the middle of the night this past weekend to torrential rain and an electric light show that shook your house. It was fantastic. When I peeked out the window, the street was a single writhing river of silver and the shadowy trees were bending double under the wind. I grabbed some earplugs, covered my eyes against the lightening, and went back to sleep.

 

 

The next day, I learned that the awesome storm had caused some not-so-awesome flooding in our basement office. 

All the rubber baseboards were removed and thrown in a pile.

They brought in an ARMY of green industrial fans.

Check out the water line outside!

  For now, several of us are temporarily working from the sixth floor of the campus library as the sheet rock is replaced, soggy documents are rescued, and the army of green fans blow round the clock.

Back on campus

Somewhere above me, the sun is warm. The desk curves spacious to my left and a new sticky pad perches next to my complicated phone. It rings. I catch myself because the old greeting no longer fits.

"Office of Graduate and Professional Studies, how can I help you?"

There. I said it without stuttering. 

If you haven't heard the news yet, here it is: I GOT A NEW JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After thirteen months in banking, I am back on our beautiful, bustling, homey campus. A shiny new parking pass swings from my rearview mirror like an old friend and I work in the basement heart of a dorm lounge, which is a strange place to process paperwork, but renovations will be beautiful she says. Her glance swings over the boxes and cramped filing cabinets that line the walls of our underground office, and I'm thankful I wasn't hired yet when they moved here.

Two weeks ago I was greeting customers; now I greet students. They come with varying degrees of anxiety of their faces, handing in wrinkled papers that have passed through five different hands as they collected signatures. Even though I have very few answers to offer, my favorite moments have come when kindness, costing me nothing, earns me a look of sheer relief and gratitude.

I feel a lot of gratitude these days!

For work at eight, instead of seven.
For the chocolate cupcakes that my boss brought to my last day at the bank.
For the eight luxurious days I'll have off at Christmas--stuff bankers can only dream of.
For jeans on Fridays and free coffee.
For access to thousands of books and online journals through the University library.
And best of all, I'm on campus.

Ever since graduation, I have missed the easy accessibility to the student world that made conversations with them between classes over coffee or luches a more-often thing. I was working only two miles away, but it may as well have been fifty. Now I am literally working fifteen feet below some of my friends' dorm rooms!

Let the lunches commence!

"He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me." (Ps. 18:19)

Summer photo album

How has the summer been for you?

Yes, OK, technically the dog days of heat are still blazing outside, but here in our college town, the familiar sights and sounds of a new fall semester abound. Wal-Mart is overflowing with chaotic bins of school supplies, the streets are clogged with halting freshmen (and their parents!), and a sign at the local Starbucks declares what everyone already knows: that pumpkin spice lattes are only a few months away! 

Tomorrow classes begin again, and I can't help but feel the nostalgic pull to books and backpacks and the crisp smoothness of new spiral notebooks. *Sigh* I will forever be a student on the inside. 

Looking behind, this third summer of married life has had a completely different flavor from the first two. 

Last year was a summer of mountains, car trouble adventures, friendship insecurities, and wide-flung travel. The summer before was even crazier, with our wedding, honeymoon, head-lice (ooooooh, now there's a story...), and the foreignness of navigating my new role as wife. 

Despite another trip to Italy, some deep soul-searching, a long and ongoing job search, and a few road trips in-state, this summer has had a comfortable rhythm of rest, work, and the homey pleasures that come from having frequent guests. We painted my former study room-turned-guest room, transforming it from this color...

to this. (Correct color, but not an actual picture of the room. I wish!)

And you're probably thinking, "Uhhh, yeah.  A VERY needed change, especially if people plan to SLEEP there." Yep. I agree. 

Even though our new guest room was in progress for most of the summer, several dear friends and family members blessed us by breaking it in and keeping us company. I enjoyed them so much that I barely missed the mountains! 

So here is a short picture update of our summer shenanigans, to be followed by some more thoughtful posts soon. Right now, however, I simply wanted to let my bloggy friends know we hadn't died or anything, given my looooonnng absence from this site. :)

This dear friend spent a whole weekend with us early in the summer! She tried the local frozen yogurt, went with us to the George H. Bush presidential library, introduced us to this fascinating documentary. 

The Berlin Wall came down during Bush Sr.'s presidency, and his presidential library displays a colorful, graffiti-covered chunk of the demolished barrier. 

Then came my sister and her husband! We spent an entire day in the city for a conference, and then sis and I squeezed in a quick walk before they left. The flower we found on the walk made me catch my breath. I mean, just LOOK at it! Can you believe something like this was simply growing wild, unnoticed, on a walking trail in a city park?

And then the other sister came with her boyfriend! I had to work, but the hubs took them to the famed Blue Bell factory an hour away for a tour. If you live in Texas, you must, I repeat MUST visit this place! 

The night before they left, we all went to a local coffee shop for some Harry Potter-inspired "butter beer" (actually cream soda, butterscotch syrup and heavy cream) and a card version of Monopoly. 

And of course, we painted ourselves blue for free food with the summer homegroup! (I had work the next morning, so I was excused from full blue coverage.)

We had more visitors, there were several beautiful weddings, and there were countless silly, serious, tearful moments in between, but life is not always recorded as it's lived. Sometimes the spontaneity of a moment is half its joy. The record-keeping would spoil it, rather than preserve it. So there you go: a little snapshot of our summer! 

Adults Bully Too

Lately I've been researching workplace bullying. Read into that what you will.

I always thought bullies were a middle-school thing, but apparently adult bullying is pretty common. A Wikipedia search told me that almost half (49%) of all Americans reported being affected by bullying currently or in the past. Maaaan, I thought I was out of the danger zone!

The Health and Safety Executive website says that workplace bullying is "negative behavior being targeted at an individual, or individuals, repeatedly and persistently over time." Pretty broad definition, but they break it down:

• ignoring or excluding someone
• giving unachievable tasks, or "setting you up to fail"
• spreading malicious rumors or gossip
• making belittling remarks
• undermining your integrity
• not giving credit where credit is due
• withholding information purposely

The Workplace Bullying Institute says stress from being harassed or bullied can cause emotional and mental damage leading to things like depression, heart problems, and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Yikes!

My research, and my own experience, have convinced me that the question is not whether it will happen to me, but when. And when it does, what is the mature, responsible response? Is the advice given to kids in middle school appropriate for an adult workplace? And as a Christian, should my behavior be different from what I could legally do?

These are genuine questions. 

As a kid, I was told, "Ignore bullies; they just want a reaction. If that doesn't work, stand up to them." But as a homeschooled kid, I had a pretty limited exposure to bullies. Not much chance to practice. 

Now I'm adult in the corporate world, and I sense a pressure to give as good as I get or get run over. Gossip is the norm, and if you don't conform, then guess what--you're the new target. "Good Americans" are confident, assertive individuals who would never allow themselves to be bullied, right?

But as a Christian, I've resisted this, struggling to know how to respond and remain obedient to Jesus. I mean, He said some pretty un-American stuff on this topic. 

"You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles." (Matthew 5:28-41)

A person who slaps me, steals my hoodie, and sues me. Hmm, sounds like a bully to me. And Jesus says "do not resist" this person. Instead He seems to advocate a policy of "killing with kindness", giving good for evil. 

Until this week, Jesus and Corporate America seemed totally out of sync. Then I had a revelation: perhaps "resistance" was not the same as "assertiveness."

Resistance pushes angrily back when it is shoved. It fights fire with fire, leading to an inferno. I have always known that this was a baaaaaad idea. Assertion, on the other hand, can be respectful and controlled. It speaks the truth in love. It may confront, but it never keeps grudges and it never gossips. 

I am still chewing on this new distinction. How to assert lovingly--and ensure that people know it's done without malice? How to confront people who have never known healthy conflict? How to break habits of silence and avoidance that have grown over months?

Maybe I'll do a sequel to this post as I learn more. But in the meantime, I'd appreciate prayer. I have a new appreciation for the hard life of the picked-on. 

Teller Tales (In this case: Veggie Tales)

Kids really do say the darndest things.

As a bank teller, I have the distinct privilege of providing a listening, supportive ear to anyone who needs to complain about their day, talk about the weather, or brag on their grandkids. They don't know us beyond a four-minute transaction, but we are a comforting constant in their daily routine.

One day at the bank, in walked grandma. She had checks to cash, a deposit to make, and she couldn't wait to tell us the cute thing her granddaughter said.

"She said the cuh-yoot-est thing last night!" The wrinkled, rose manicured fingers flashed back and forth with emphasis, and she grinned, full of story.

"I asked her, 'Sweety, do you like green beans?' 'No, Grandma,' she said. So then I said, 'Well, don't you like any vegetables?' Guess what she said then."

We didn't know, so grandma went on.

"She said, 'Not since the accident.' Now, I was wondering, What on earth? So I said, 'What accident?' And my little granddaughter said, 'Well, when I accidentally ate a vegetable!'"

Poor thing. Accidents happen. 

Teller Tales :: Fortune Cookies

Conversation overheard at work:

"My fortune cookie says that Fortune is smiling at me."

"That's kinda creepy. Who is Fortune and why is she smiling at you?"

"Why didn't you get a cookie?"

"I always eat too much when I go there; I never have room."

"That's why you're supposed to get ten of them--to eat one hour later when you're hungry."



There you have it, ladies and gentlemen: the secret musings of bank tellers when there are no customers in the lobby.

Post-makeover Pumpkins

Remember a few weeks ago before all the wedding craziness when I told you about my new orange canvas?
Well, here are some belated pictures of the finished product!

A pumpkin patch on a pumpkin. :)

 I even took some pictures of my co-workers pumpkins, just so you could see the incredible variety that half a dozen bank tellers could produce. 

An ombre creation, complete with colored glitter and spiders. 

I thought the dots looked like jelly beans. 

Definitely the scariest!

With sharpie-drawn face, this was the pumpkin version of Annie Oakley. 

The blind, purple LSU pumpkin. 

Minnie!

Currently, the cowgirl pumpkin (without her hat and gun) and the glittery pumpkin (sans spiders) are chillin on my front porch as interesting fall decor. I would have kept mine, but it got moldy. I guess that's what happens when you cover a pumpkin completely in paint?

Pumpkin Project Ahead

In the spirit of cooler weather and healthy competition, my boss handed each of us a pumpkin at yesterday's meeting.

"Get these decorated by next Monday--any way you like."

Ooooooooo. :)

As much as I've bucked all my life against forced creativity required for school projects, this is one time when I feel liberated by the mandate to make something pretty. No, I can't do laundry or cook right now. My boss told me to decorate this. 

Here are the links to my current sources of inspiration:

• A black and white design
• Finger-painted flowers
• Following the geometric trend
• A slew of cute ideas from Better Homes and Gardens

We will display them in the lobby until Christmas is more in style...and then I have a feeling hubby and I will be eating pumpkin pie. :) 

A New Season: "Real World" Edition

After two decades of school, and a lifetime of planning and preparing for adult life, I'm here!  The fabled "real world" at last. *deep breath* 

It's been a crazy two weeks since beginning my new full time job at the bank. This is partly because I've been waking up two full hours before school buses even start roaming the neighborhood, and partly because the first weeks of the fall semester are inherently insane when you do college ministry. A plus B equals no time to do laundry, let alone blog.

Now that I have a moment, here are some first impressions: 
This "real world" is a world of hazy morning drives, herbal tea steaming at my elbow.
It's a world of pencil skirts, paperwork, procedures and numerical passcodes for every door, computer screen, cabinet and vault.
It's a world of complex office culture that I'm just beginning to decode, and a world of constant sweet-tooth temptation.

(Did you know that the kolache guy, the donut guy, AND the cheesecake guy all bank with us? Oy vey. The fact that hubby and I just joined a nearby gym is probably the only thing that will keep me in check. More on that later.)

A secondary thought: I really miss studying.

Last week, my "work" consisted of observing the other tellers and poring over the training materials. It was a tantalizing taste of school. After work last Wednesday, I wrote this in my journal and realized afresh that I'm a nerd to the bone:

 "My little heart has warmed over the chance to study again, even if the textbook is the new-associate manual.  I am already making mental connections to the financial procedures at the church, and it's like going behind the scenes of a familiar movie. Lots of "aha!" moments."

Of course, all that has ended now that I have my own cash drawer and set of keys. I still have much to learn, but gradually, through mistakes and slow skill building.

My thankfulness swells when I think of the blessings attached to this job. I have work that I can leave at work, a timely and generous paycheck, a commute that barely touches three miles, the hope of friendships just begun. I will simply have to fan my own curious flame, studying for the equipping class at church, reading strategically, intentionally.

For now, we have a fun weekend planned! Resting, visiting family in Dallas, and celebrating my 25th birthday. :)

Goodbye, Suite 140

A friend asked me the other night how I've been doing lately.
"In a nutshell?" I hesitated, looking for the right word. "It's a season of transition."

I'm pretty sure she couldn't guess just how much transition was packed behind that little sentence.

I know I already blogged today about last week's planning retreat, but today is a red-letter day! Today I said goodbye to a job that has been a constant in my life for the past two and a half years, and I'm feeling the need to commemorate the closing of such a significant chapter.

I admired L.E.'s sassy, purple-hued bangs next to me as I explained things from my seat at her side, and realized, with a nostalgic twinge, that this was the last time. I held another co-worker's baby, and thought "well, this won't happen very often at the new job." I snagged a hug from Neva as she walked by on the way to the copier, and took a moment to savor the closeness we've built over the past few years.

This is the job I took as a green, insecure 22-year old whose only experience with Excel was in her high school computer class five years earlier. At that ancient gray steel desk I learned how a corporate budget operates and developed the perseverance necessary to not give up when that same budget simply WOULD NOT make sense. I've learned the quirks of all four pastors, and the soda preferences of every one of the staff. I've learned that prayer really does help computers/printers/copiers function when all hope is lost. I've learned never to take an administrator for granted; without them, nothing can function! And I've learned that there is grace for the mistakes I will inevitably make.

All day long, I was feeling thankful for the experience of working alongside people who really follow Jesus, not just with their words but in the way they walk down the hall and interact with people. So many of them came by the desk just to say "congrats!" and give a hug.

And then they threw me a little goodbye party! I felt so loved.

Goodbye, church office. It has truly been wonderful. 

Please be praying for L.E. as she takes over a challenging position, and for me as I dive into this new season. New job, here I come!

Identity and my Job Search

If you know me, you'll be excited about this news! If you don't, maybe you'll at least be encouraged by what God is teaching me about his goodness.

When I got back to hot and humid Texas three weeks ago, I leaped headlong into the job search with all the intensity and drive of an Olympic swimmer. Translated, this means I came home each night from training my replacement at my part time job, perched on the couch with laptop and a bowl of dinner, and systematically searched and applied for any opening that remotely interested me.

For hours.

I edited cover letter and resume for each application. I kept detailed files of everything I sent. I even took copies of said cover letters and resumes to the taupe-colored offices in person, just to give it a personal touch. There were blisters on my feet from the flats I wore that day, but I didn't mind. And as you might have noticed, I hardly blogged. The computer was otherwise employed.

I was serious, and I was eager for the job market to take me seriously.

This employment hunt reminded me of my research papers in college.The harder I searched, the more blisters I acquired, and the less I slept, the more likely I would be to find a job, right? The underlying assumption was this: the grade depends on me. 

Then, about two weeks ago, I was at work, training my replacement in the art of balancing bank statements. Except...they wouldn't balance. I dialed our bank, and C___ answered. We've had a great working relationship for years now, ever since I started handling the finances for our church over two years ago.

"How's your summer been?" she asked. "Great! I've been in Colorado, and now I'm job hunting." I paused, and on a whim went on: "Are you guys hiring?"

"Actually," she said, "we are! Go online and apply, and make sure you put my name on it."

I sat across from them in an interview four days later. Two days after that, they called to offer me a full-time position at the bank!  Not a single employer had responded from any of my hard, Olympian work in the previous two weeks. But here, without me hardly lifting a little finger, God had dropped an offer into my lap.

But I have a hard time with easy gifts. They feel too easy. This whole week, my mind has spun with doubts.  I wondered if God wanted to encourage me with the offer, but wanted me to hold out for something ideal, something awesome and exciting. Would I feel trapped, doing something that didn't involve writing, teaching, or children? What if I got stuck there for twenty years! And what if the "ideal "job was waiting just one or two weeks away? What if's are torturous.

And then a friend tweeted a cool quote about identity that stopped my "what ifs" in mid stride:

We have been conditioned to find our identity in what we do. However, Scripture tells us that we are children of God adopted through the grace of Christ, through whom we derive our identity. My identity is not what I do; I do out of my identity. - Brad House

This reminder of truth was like salve to my heart. I'm not an actress, who, when she chooses a role as a ditz, will never be cast as anything else. I am also not living in Huxley's dystopia, where I was bred for one thing, and one thing only. My role simply does not equate to my identity. It doesn't come from my performance or my job title, or anything else self-generated. Instead, my identity rests in the fact that I am created, loved, and forgiven by the only One whose opinion matters.

If you know me, you'll know this is a familiar refrain. How many layers of performance-driven identity will Jesus have to peel away before I rest in Him? I'm not sure, but it's really reassuring to know His persistent love doesn't fail, even if I do.

So, long story short, I took the job.

I'm resting in the truth that it doesn't define me, limit me, or make me. Instead, at least for now, it is a good gift from a good Father who takes good care of me and my heart. 

Instagram-y fun

Ever since I first discovered the Instagram app on my smart phone, my photos have reached a new eschelon of coolness!  (Ok, well at least I think so.)  I love the daily deliberation between the Sutro, Lo-fi and Valencia filters, and the finished product seems to elevate everyday scenes to something I might see in a magazine. 

At the very least, I'm taking more pictures, which is always a good thing. 

Last Wednesday, I walked with a small group of thirty others into Chicago's, a cheerful hole in the wall that serves burgers, gyros, and pizza. The murals on the wall portrayed the Rocky Mountains in the best colors of every season, and the kitchen was only an arm's length away from where we stood. This man was fully absorbed in his work, brow furrowed with intensity as he mixed and poured and clanged dishes. I wondered how his day was going. 

A few days ago, hubby and I stole away from the YMCA for an afternoon date at a coffee shop. Like kids hiding away in a tree house, we took our drinks up the twisty stairs to a cluttered and cozy upper nook above the shop. They had checkers. We played four games, sipped our mochas, and let the world turn without us. I love that man so much. 

You know what else I love?  Skype!  Blessings on the inventor, whoever he or she was. I have missed my friends so much this summer, and last week I had a fabulous two hours chatting with this wonderful girl. Love you, Lissy!

Most cities have traffic jams, but I bet an ELK JAM is unique to this part of the country. This herd of thirty elk was leisurely crossing the road to Estes Park last Wednesday. 

Every once in a while, God gives me "valentines" through nature. Check out this fluorescent green lichen heart that I spotted on a rock the day we flew balloons. 

Tiny bits of colored glass and rock are sometimes as good as a canvas when I get the urge for self expression. (I can't show the finished product here because it's a birthday present for my sweet 22-year-old sister, but I promise--I will once she gets her package!)

And...I saved the best for last: the Trash & Tray Creature! The staff that work in the dining room will sometimes create odd structures out of fruit and send them through the tray conveyor to us. This one had quite the personality.

That's all for now! :)

The Structure of Summer: Cabin and work

Life is not where you live. It's also not a string of tasks, one after the other. Instead, life is lived on the inside, within those structures, where personal experiences pile up and intertwine and are sorted into meaningful categories by memory.

Still, my internal life feels a tad sensitive right now, even messy. I had an EBD (emotional break-down) at lunch today, and the categories aren't clear at all. 

So I'm writing now about the external structures of where and what. Maybe later I'll get to the other stuff. 

Our Summer Home:

This is our home for the next month and a half! Isn't it cute? 

The YMCA of the Rockies was established around the turn of the LAST century--more than 100 years ago. Built in 1914, our little duplex is one of the oldest structures still standing. Every year they threaten to tear it down and build something new, but every year it somehow escapes the ax. For the tree growing up through the roof of the water closet, that's a good thing! 

We have one large room with a kitchen,

and two tiny bedrooms. The one where we sleep is just big enough for a double bed and a chest of drawers.

We haven't had an official hike yet, but because our cabin is perched so far above the main YMCA campus, I feel as if we get a mini-hike nearly every day! 

Two Very Different Hats:

As far as work is concerned, I feel as though I have my feet in two separate buckets. 

Photo credit: Google Images

In the first bucket, I don a forest green polo shirt and make my way among wet floors and clanking machinery to clean and sort trays of dirty dishes from the guest dining hall. Since hubby is considered LT staff this summer, we aren't really working for the Y, but they are kind enough to let us volunteer two morning shifts each week in exchange for all the food we can eat. :) A pretty good deal!

In the second bucket, there are no dirty dishes, but the water is murky and confusing. Suddenly, the same tasks I have been doing for our church office the last two and a half years take twice or thrice as much effort. A simple thing like checking the office email may take two hours, simply because the internet connection keeps logging me out. A question to a co-worker that would have been solved in a three-minute conversation down the hall is now a 2 day email exchange. 

Don't get me wrong--I'm thankful to be here, thankful that supervisors allowed me to come with hubby on this summer adventure, and thankful for the income.

But with deadlines looming...
and banks saying they can't give me information to do my job unless my boss is on the phone WITH me...
and the information from the office incomplete and unclear...

A growing sense of failure and frustration is tightening my throat and making me wonder what I'm doing here. Shouldn't effort equal success? But at the moment, it feels like I am dumping effort into a black hole, with no results in sight.

But now I've gone past the external structures to the rawness I promised not to share. Oh well...I guess God knew I needed to share it. Prayers are appreciated. 

Impressions from my week

Waking up next to hubby is the most wonderfully safe feeling in the world.

I feel like a European when I mix yogurt with raw oatmeal and fruit for breakfast. It is one of the many small ways that my time in Hungary and Moldova imprinted my life.

My little cubby at work feels more home-like and familiar now that I have decided to leave it. Oh, the irony!

After blogging about how heart-wrenching it is to say goodbye to friends and lose touch, I find myself treasuring every moment I get with the friends who are here. This week at lunch, for example, three of us sat in the winking sunlight of a warm, green park, and shared our hearts. I felt mine filling as we chatted and laughed. (See, Mar? I TOLD you you'd make it into my blog someday!)

Coming home to piles and piles of clean laundry folded by my servant-hearted husband is one of the BEST ways to win my heart.

I've never been a coffee snob, but I'm falling hard for the creme brulee coffee that my friend, Jenni, always serves at our women's times. Yummm....