Sex, Passion and The Old Taboo (NSFW)

Ooh-er, i'd best go steady with this one. Family of mine, I promise this is not going to be seedy or too revealing about myself, but it is going to be one for the less prudish, so if you think its going to scar you for life, i'd look away now. :P

This is something I've wanted to discuss for a while now. Not because I'm perverse, nymphomaniacal or slatternly, but because we're so overwhelmingly caught in a crossfire these days between those who believe sex is purely functional and blush at the mere thought of venturing away from missionary, and those who would happily bump uglies 24/7. These little bullets that should be named "go forth and multiply", Versus "you'll go blind if you do that, lad" have bred so much misconception in society; ages of every kind are unsure. What is socially acceptable is, at least in part, coming full circle again, but it is still HUGELY misunderstood, in my opinion. So forgive me for the touchy subject, but I'm putting some cards on the table. Buckle up, this is going to be long.

The trigger for the decision to write this, came from some surprising sources. One from the blog of a young woman. One from the entire discography of Michael Cretu, and one, from my mother. Yep.

Lets start with the conversation between my mother and I. To cut a long chat short, it boils down to this; I had mentioned, in jest, that if I made a sex tape, I would be famous pretty quickly. It worked for Paris Hilton, why not me? My mother replied promptly with "well would you want men... yanno..." and then she cringed, and went into an elaborate argument of how porn and erotic literature was seedy and degrading. Porn in particular is a controversial thing, one may always wonder if these girls are willingly being recorded or whether circumstance drove them to it as a last resort.

And then I came across this girls blog. Shes a larger girl, one i've spoken to a time or two. She likes to bake, she watches the Vampire Diaries and she has a wonderful sense of humour - it just so happens that she posts pictures of herself nude and more, online. Her blog boasts the banner; "What some women may see as degrading, others see as emboldening, empowering and exhilirating." How about that? Whats more surprising is, the majority of her comments are from women, telling her how amazing and beautiful she is. And though some of her poses are what many would consider to be seedy, all I see is art and beauty.

Sex is a beautiful thing. Yes it is. It is not purely functional, nor is it purely physical gratification. It is the most basic human instinct. It is the key to many medical aids, psychological aids, and it is wonderful for the spirit. It is the foundation for the first religions. It is the basis for some of the most famous works of art. Whether it is with a partner or alone, it is nothing but beneficial (when addressed safely, of course, it shouldn't need to be said but just in case!) and I do find it rather sad that so many of these ideas have been ostracized or forgotten. Heres some facts:

Sex releases endorphins - natural 'feel happy' and painkiller chemicals. Shunning your partner because of a headache? Get it on, and you'd be satisfied and headache free.

Men: Apparently watching porn increases your sperm count. Studies have shown that men who looked at porn of two men and one woman produced more sperm than those who looked at just women. Scientists speculate that seeing competition makes men step up their baby-making capacities.

The female orgasm enhances chances of becoming pregnant. The muscular spasms experienced can push sperm further along the canal and into the uterus - sadly, only 29% of women reach an orgasm through penetration, so a little 'deviance' as some may call it, only increase your chances of pregnancy.

I did read more earlier this week, about the general levels of happiness in people going up if they had regular sex, and what-not. Ambiguous but i can't find the facts any more! But the point i'm trying to make is, there is nothing bad about the whole dance. The oldest advert in the world is for a brothel. Sex is the oldest trading commodity, and its dealers the first to make a 'profession'. The first religions were geared towards fertility, and many rituals had their followers engage in sex, publically, as something to be celebrated. Its instinct. And it really is beautiful - can you imagine anything better than la petit mort - locking limbs with someone you connect with, giving that piece of yourself over and getting the world in return?

Maybe I have a romanticized view, but tales of passion and frivolity have earmarked most of history and some of the worlds most well known stories. You didn't think Sleeping Beauty was awoken by a simple kiss, did you? Think again.

I do believe Ive rambled on enough now, but as a leaving thought, heres a song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFLRHPUWBI8&feature=related

It is by Enigma, Michael Cretu's finest work. It addresses the life of the Marquis De Sade; a notorious French noble, whos unrivalled reputation for sexual deviance piques interest worldwide. His life is of great ethical debate, but by all accounts, his lovers were well pleased and fought for his attentions.

"Sade, Qu'est ce que tu vas chercher?

Le bien par le mal, le vertu par le vice?

Sade, dit moi - pourquoi l'evangele du mal?

Quelle est ta religion, ou' sont tes fide'les?

Si tu es contre dieu, tu es contre 'homme.

Sade - Et tu diabolique... ou divin?"

A TEENSY Bit Peeved

Right, so. a Tsunami hit Japan on Friday morning after an earthquake that measured 8.9. Thus far, 350 are dead, hundred more missing, and there are fears the death toll will be much higher. Whats more, the tremor has shook Japan enough for those living anywhere near the Fukushima nuclear power plant have been evacuated, since the reactor's pressure is way above its normal tolerance. This natural disaster will set Japan back YEARS, financially, emotionally... i don't think there is a silver lining anywhere in this.

So of course, everyone is helping Japan any way they can. BUT. And heres the massive 'BUT'...

A collage of facebook statuses were sent my way about half an hour ago (and i've sat here seething ever since) from a bunch of Americans, who, in general consensus believe that this natural disaster is payback for the assault on Pearl Harbour in 1941.

'Scuse my language, but what a fucking disgrace.

Where on earth do these people get off?! Ignorant, small-minded Americans seem to be the vast majority these days (I know these people are in no way the majority - but its these sick individuals that get publicised and give s other countries the bullets to hit them with.) and it makes me sad to say, but its what gets them a ridiculously abhorrent reputation with the rest of the world. Lets look at facts here.

- Hurricane Katrina, 2005. Amongst donations from all over the world, Toyota, the Japanese car manufacturers, donated $2m to the American red cross, and offered to match contributions made to the salvation army.

Since the conclusion of WWII, pertaining to Japan and the USA, I believe Japan have done nought but offered help to most other countries, denying any themselves. Coolant was offered to Japan and was declined.

Some more facts:

- i wonder, if other countries had the same mentality as America, who could claim such things as 9/11, the Haiti earthquake, or hurricane katrina, was payback for offences offered? For certain, Japan could claim that right (Pearl Harbour death tool was approx. 2350 and had no lasting effect other than emotional on survivors or their children). Pearl harbour, pearl harbour, yadda yadda.... Hiroshima and Nagasaki. These two instances killed over 150,000 people and the radiation left behind has left a lasting imprint on the country that is only just beginning to recede.

What about the Vietnamese? The death toll of that incident is about as high as the Japan bombing, purely and simply because America couldn't help but interfere. So while many may class Lt. Calley as a hero, the rest of the world thinks he was an evil jackass second only to Hitler himself.

And while these small-minded Americans are laughing at an unavoidable and devastating natural disaster, the rest of the world are looking on in pity and hoping Japan picks itself up soon. You can all laugh at Japan for this supposed 'attack of karma' but you're quite happy to have your sushi and your stereos, and as soon as something devastating happens to you, you will expect the world to be at your beck and call. Team America does it again, huh?

I would thank your lucky stars, Uncle Sam, that your country seems to be so brown-nosed that when something like this inevitably comes your way, you'll never not have help for it. Grow the hell up and stop acting so bloody childish. Or do you want to claim karma on the British too when you kill us in your friendly fires? Psh.

N.B: This is a direct attack upon those small minded Americans who believe this disaster is a direct rebuttal of mother nature for Pearl Harbour. I exclude any and all of any nation who show respect, integrity, and sympathy for a country that were the 'enemy' too long ago for it to be of any significance in the present.

One year on...

In some ways it feels like a blink ago and in others an age. Either is too long.

Its been a year since i last talked to you or saw you and i miss you terribly, as i'm sure everyone who had the opportunity to meet you would. I still visit every now and then, i still call your phone before i remember, when i think of a good gift for mum, or something you'd find funny or lovely.

My biggest fear is that i forget everything. Your wonderful stories, how you looked... i don't ever want to. I doubt it will ever happen, I'm constantly telling people about you!

In ways it has been a wonderful year too. Michaela and Gavin's wedding was beautiful, you'd have loved it. And now Michaela is expecting the next little Tolson and waiting until birth to find out what it is. So happy for her! Its so exciting, and auntie Sheryl is ITCHING to be a nana. Mum got recognised as the region's kindest tesco person after some lovely compliments from customers. In little ways, we are getting blessings from everywhere. Enough to just lift us when were sad.

Also, Paige had a bit of a brush with fate, having lost control of her car - we were talking about this and reckon you had some hand in protecting her, so thank you from all of us and especially Paige! All in all, we've been a lot closer this year, which makes me very happy.

Now for all of you who didn't get the chance to know my nana, im going to share something i remember that has always made me giggle. In her words:

"I mostly did well at school, but i was never good at cooking (but she was GREAT at it by the time she was looking after me!). We had a test for cooking once, and i got 2 marks. One for my name... and one for the date. (this is when i would laugh and ask why she did so badly.) I was eye-flirting with the builders out of the window! i lost complete track of time, and wasn't interested in the test anyway."

This is a great example of the carefree love my nana held for all things joyful, and got me through many things. It wasn't often i saw her frown. I NEVER saw her angry. When she'd passed, i remember sitting in her living room and Dolly Parton's "i will always love you" coming on the stereo. One passage stuck in my head:

"I hope life treats you kind

And I hope you have all you've dreamed of.

And I wish to you, joy, and happiness

But above all this, I wish you love."

...Says it all, does it not?

And so. Nana, from all of us, we love and miss you. We think about you every day and not a moment goes by when we don't wish you were still here. Thank you for looking out for us all, but don't miss out on too many parties. Enjoy yourself, its about time you relaxed.

Say Hello to Brian.

All of us xxx

"A daily thought, a silent tear, a constant wish you were still here."

Ooh, My Bad... *Sheepish Smile*

For some reason, this bloody page won't let me upload a picture today. And i had a really good one, too. *pout*

ANYWAY. I've been a bit naughty haven't I, saying i'd keep updating this, and then leaving it until August, and now its past bonfire night and i've been very elusive. So, i'd like to formally apologise for my lameness and promise to at least TRY to update this more often, but what can i say? University is demanding more and more of my time. Do they think i'm actually trying to get a degree or something?! Hurr.

So yeah. Back onto something more (or less, who knows) interesting, i seem to have gotten back into my fantasy hobbies of drawing. Unfortunately the book is on hold for now, too many essays have given me much less will to actually write any length of prose so i think i'm going to go hardcore writing over the holidays. Ideas keep changing and reformulating, so the sooner i get one DEFINITE idea down, the better. Its very... liquid, i guess? i can't pin it down apart from the characters who are already set in my head. Apart from my heroine, who i cant find a name for. I'm thinking something celtic/gaelic like Liath (Not that particular name because its been used, but something like it anyway). Heres an idea: submit your ideas to me any way you know how! I know that at least ONE of You will have an idea. *Villanous eyebrow-wiggle*

But apart from that, my renewed interest in all things supernatural and ethereal and so on and such forth, is proving to be a bit of a problem. Currently, i'm sat in Swansea University Library. I have my dissertation proposal minimised, as well as all the sources im interested in to help me. What i DO have open is the works of Jessica Galbreth, a seperate word document for lyrics for my new band, formed with my partner in crime, Owen 'Orpheus Man-Fairy' Francis, guitarist extraordinaire and Mark Tremonti's largest (bordering 'stalkerish') fan. All we need is a drummer and were set to record. So with music and literature in the works, maybe my degree is sort of null and void anyway. Yay for throwing £24,000 at nothing! Eugh.

But meanwhile, i DO have a degree to complete, and this A.D.H.D - like tendency to sit here going "oooh, look at the pretty wings!" isn't very conductive to the politics of the Parisi in the PRIA (Don't worry, you're not meant to know what this means, i'm not even sure i do). So while i'm quite content getting starry - eyed over sparkly pictures, my potential to get even a desmond is trickling away.

On a more doom-and-gloom note, things are getting rockier at university anyway. Conditions in my house have made things hard to tolerate and i often wonder whether its not worth just sacking it all in and leaving to concentrate on my creative skills. The only thing that does keep me going is knowing i have 6/7 months left before i'm free of education (and this horrible person) forever.

But all in all, things are going well. And next time i post something i'll do it with a particular description. I'm going through a 'i like Dante's Inferno' stage, so it'll maybe be all about this. Its very interesting, i assure you.

Again, sorry for being so shi.. ahem. BAD, at keeping updated. I have People on my bottom pushing me to write more often which is helping. Much love.

Holy Wow.

I just found this and thought you might all like it. Very different way of thinking!

The Egg
By: Andy Weir

You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. You wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.

Erk!

The last time i posted was a very trying time for me; still, it's no excuse to have been so lax in my blogging duties! Oopsidaisie.

So, most recently, things have been a little better. Obviously, i still miss my nana but thats something thats never going to go away, i'm blessed enough to have some lovely memories of her, and i've been given more drive to do well. Which is great, because apparently my family have connections to a publisher. Which might kick my ass well enough to finish this book!

Lifesong, by the way, is going to be re-written from a slightly different perspective. No change to the plot, more so a change in narrative and such. I did a lot of searching, and have got some of my characters saved from pieces of art created by others (obviously intended for different reasons but they somewhat fit) which have given me more to gon on . Its nice to see my characters being shown. HOWEVER. i would DEARLY love an artist to really do them for me. Properly. *Hint hint*.

Sadly, though, the writing is going to be slow going recently, as... dun dun dunnnnn... DISSERTATION proposals have to be in soon as well as the fact that 10,000 words are due for this time next year. Im wondering what to do my dissertation on. Im caught right now between the politics of Nefertiti, and the settlement of Roman Britain. Hmmmm. I think Roman Britain would be more easily researched, personally, anything to get a better mark!

Okay, so, i know this hasn't been the most riveting thing i've ever written but i was butt-smacked to update so i have. And i PROMISE, REALLY PROMISE THIS TIME that i'll write more OFTEN. promeeeeeessseeee. Really. =]

Tolsons, i Salute You..

Dear Nana

Today you gave us all a gift i never realised i was thankful for until now. Watching you end your life and begin another was an experience i'll never forget - even though i cry, its not because i grieve for you. How can i grieve when i can feel your happiness radiating around me? I know you saw your entire family, the result of your love gathered to wish you a safe journey, and i know how proud you must have felt - i am so proud of my family, and before today i never realised how much i enjoy their company. I have you to thank for that realisation.
Today has never felt like the end for me - only the beginning. Its as if you've passed a book to us with blank pages, ready for us to fill - now is the time for your children to shine and to live their life as you did, and when it becomes their time to pass the book to us, your grandchildren, i for one promise to fill the book to the very last page. And, talking of books, i promise i'll finish mine before my 25th birthday. And you'll be on the cover. We came together today as a family to share memories that you yourself created. You left us with the song 'i have a dream' - well, i too have a dream, that we all create memories for our children that are at least half as rich as the ones you left behind for us to cherish.

Until we meet again, nana - i will always love you.

Lauren x

And to my family - i need say nothing other than i miss and love you all, and i am thankful for all of you. I never realised how large a part of my life you all are in your entirety until this day. I hope that we all see a lot more of each other soon. Please, don't be strangers. ~x

GOOD MORNING....!

When a person thinks of Vietnam they see napalm, tanks, Robin Williams or Martin Sheen. War, Americans, boundaries and My Lai.

I visited Vietnam two years ago, in the summer of my 18th year. I, too, wondered, when my dad booked this holiday, what i would find. Whether i would find the remnants of a war, where people were wary to glance around in case it invited dissent; with a history of poverty and war and a communist government, i could hardly blame them. But when i found myself in the midst of Ho Chi Minh city, surrounded by locals i was wondrously surprised.

Never in all my life had i been proved so wrong! The Vietnamese people are the happiest people i've ever met - which is very odd to western culture i suppose, who coincide money with happiness. Money is the one thing not many Vietnamese people have, but if smiles were legal tender they'd be the richest people in the world.

And i wasn't entirely wrong. There are, of course, museums recording the various wars, monuments such as the Cu Chi tunnels that still remain to make sure the injustices are never forgotten. Shrines to fallen soldiers, and places where veterans and victims of agent orange or napalm chemicals can make an honest living without being exploited or overstretched. The thing is, the Vietnamese are proud people. They were too proud to ask for help in every war they won or lost and are too proud now to beg despite they pittance they each earn. (a bellboy in a 5 star hotel averages a salary of $5 a month, as we were told). They never beg - what they DO do is make items or find items to sell. Which is, to me, amazing.

The point i have to make here is that, although i enjoyed my time in Vietnam and i met many lovely people, live does carry on and i only ever occasionally gave it any thought - sometimes i look back at pictures and reminisce. I thought, with it being an upcoming tourist attraction, my presence in Vietnam would hardly be remembered by anyone. Though i was complimented and met some wonderful people. Again, i was very wrong.

In the later part of our holiday, we visited Ha Long bay - a world heritage site and the nicest aby ive ever seen. We were given a private boat with a full crew who fed us and showed us their home. One boy didn't speak much English, but he smiled lots and he really tried. So i gave him my email, and told him that he could practise his English by writing to me. He smiled some more and put the piece of paper in his pocket.

I thought nothing of it - time has gone by, no emails came. I assumed that another tourist would come by and show the same kindness, and i was very, very wrong. Two weeks ago, i received an email asking if i remembered him. His name was Hoa - of course, i replied. He sent this back:

hello:lauren !
I am fine .
How are you ?
I am very happy to receive your message. some day you should not just through the network.from the day you put flooded Halong Bay, I always remember to you and your family.I feel very happy family. your parents are understanding, friendly and kind.you and your family are in my heartyour pictures I feel like yesterday.How are you?you learn song yet?Health is not your parents?talk to you soon.!
hoa!

How lovely is a little bit of an understatement! I never imagined that my family and i could have such an effect on someone for simply being kind and polite, but apparently we did. It really does go to show that kindness pays off. (Of course, i also find his English adorable.Not quite there yet but its far better than my Vietnamese!)

This is the best Christmas present ever.

Losing My Religion

I don't want to dwell too much on this kind of blog lest i be seen as emo or something. But, well, first and foremost, this blog was created as my own personal diary and this is where i offload all my emotions, from every part of the spectrum.

Im unhappy, right now, and most of it stems from money troubles. I used to consider myself as being above the tedium of money, and schedules, and the things that keep businessmen and the rich grumpy. The bank keep taking my money and i don't have enough left to live until January. Although its true i get paid at the end of each month, even with said wage i don't know how I'm going to manage. Its so worrying that i barely sleep any more.

Theres collateral damage to this too. Because i barely sleep, I'm constantly grumpy. I can't take a joke any more, i barely laugh, i snap at the people closest to me and my frown lines are deeper than ever. I feel like I'm drifting away from the people that mean the world to me, and I'm pushing myself out of the social circle i used to take great joy in being a part of. All I ever do is complain. I take offense to the slightest suggestin even when i know it's ludicrous. I used to look at people who couldn't crack a smile and think "Christ, lighten up." I'm now telling this to myself every day.

I've turned into my own worst nightmare.

And theres really no excuse for it, either. I do have good friends and i know i do, even though i don't see them nearly enough (Brinners and Kayleigh, i miss you both way too much. =/ ) I have a wonderful family (And I'm homesick more now than ever) and a boyfriend i don't deserve (Mi Querido, I'm sorry i snap so much). It is the support of all these people that has kept me cemented to my studies here in Swansea and if it weren't for them i doubt I'd have the strength to get through this as i have. I know for a fact that, if i weren't so in love as I am right now, I'd have left long ago and gone home to get a job. Doing what, I'm really not sure.

And I am in a happy place, when I forget how screwed over I am, and how hard life is. I look at my family and I see them struggle too, and wish I could help, and that if anything, makes me feel even worse. I'm so stuck its painful. It's hard and i wish it were far easier than it is. I resent the people in my life who go to daddy to bail them out - because they'll never appreciate just how lucky they are, and they'll never know how to truly take care of themselves. But, then again, they'll never know the same worry, and for that i feel happy for them.

I'm sure I'll be fine, soon. Trying to sort out my life IS hard, but it's a learning experience. I'm doing the very best i can to make it better for myself, and for others. To my friends that read this, bear with me and i promise I'll be laughing again soon. To my family, i can't wait to be home so i can remember myself.

And to Mi Querido, Thank You - Being around you makes me remember how truly lucky i am, despite my many vices. I love you.

The Art of Doing As You Please

I'm beginning to wonder why on earth i've never read more of Oscar Wilde's publishings. The gist of this is, that last night i went to the cinema to watch the new adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray and LOVED it.

For those of you who don't know the story, i'll summarise now. Dorian Gray begins as a young, impressionable man, moving to London to claim his Grandfather's inheritance. He is wealthy, he is young and he is beautiful. So beautiful, he is brefriended by the artist Basil Hallward, who paints a portrait of him, claiming it to be his best work. After also befriending the Lord Harry Wotton, who preaches a life of hedonism and decadence, Dorian falls into a life of such indulgence. Wotton asks him if he would barter his soul to remain young and handsome. Dorian replies that he would, and so the story unfolds - the young man remains the same for 18 years, while the painting of him changes and ages, becoming uglier and older with each sin he commits. In the end... well, on second thought, i won't spoil it should you wish to read/watch it.

The relevance of this story is that it's what made me think. The simple truth of it is, we are ALL hedonistic, to an extent. Hedonism is the philosophical idea that pleasure or happiness is the highest good. The act of devoting oneself to seeking out those pleasures as a way of LIVING. There are names throughout history of these deviants who made it their lifestyle; John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, King Solomon (apparently), half of Rome's emporors... These are people who spent their life copulating, smoking, drinking, and possibly nothing else. And yet they're not THAT much more shameless than us as a modern society.

Oscar Wilde's book is supposed to be one of the last books of the Aesthetic age - The british age in the 18th and 19th century that coincided with the french Decadent period. It was a time much like the renaissance, when morals, ethics and lifestyles were being reconsidered. Although it is never directly mentioned, Wilde experiments and makes references to homoeroticism amongst many other indulgences people were beginning to reconsider at the time. If you like, the aesthetic age was the preset for the liberal society we live in today.

Which is where our own hedonistic nature comes in. We, as human beings, will take what we want, one way or another. For the younger, we will seek to own material object by any means. I myself have begged my parents for several things, all perceived to be 'the best'. For those a little older it is the pursuit of a man, or a woman, by means of chasing, courting, marrying, as well as getting the best job, the best car, the best home, the best dog. We are never satiated, never satisfied with what we have already. There is always something out there pushing us to try for better. As a society, we want the BEST, the greatest, the most pleasurable, all in aid of making our lives more pleasurable to live.

A friend of mine suggested that hedonism is entirely selfish and that it is not worth pursuing. Which, to an extent, i agree with. But without the hedonistic streak within us, we may not survive. It boils down to the basic carnal instincts; the need to eat, drink, sleep, multiply. The hedonist justification is that pleasure and pain are the simplest indicators of what is good for you, and what is bad for you - those things that feel good MUST be good for you. The things that hurt can't be of any use at all, other than warning you to avoid it.

Again, i agree to an extent. But pain can teach us many things and pleasure isn't always a good thing. Look at the heroin addicts and the self-harmers of society. How does a hedonist justify those sort of acts?

It comes back to Dorian Gray's story. He indulged in pleasure, and decadence, and the very best high society could offer. It froze his age, but, as his portrait showed, rot his very soul until he was hideous. Basically, hedonism, if taken too seriously, is NOT good for you, or for society.

But of course, if your partner pleases you, and it pleases them, you probably shouldn't say no. ;)

On another note, i'd LOVE to see how my soul would fare on canvas...

For Shame!

Ok, so, having had yet another person point out my blog to me, i felt a bit mean because i havent written one since July when i was really pissed off about work stuff. Oopsie!

So, id like to formally apologise to any of you who follow my posts, and carry on with another post, about... well, nothing in particular.

Summer has been a hoot! After working god knows how many hours a week up until the end of August, i ended up in the shallow blue waters of the meditteranean, soaking up sun and discovering my future profession: Marine Archaeology. SCUBA diving for shipwrecks and the like. You know it makes sense! Living abroad, putting my degree to good use, seeing some gorgeous creatures and environments along the way. Yeah. Now i just gotta get the motivation to finish a SCUBA course at uni. (they have one, it was the first ad i saw yesterday, and it made me happy.)

Pretty much as soon as i got back into the county i was down south for my boyfriend's brothers wedding (thats REALLY hard to say, i kept missing the 'brother' part in explanations, it worried a few people) and that was AMAZING. It was also the first time i met his family. I think they liked me. I hope so, at least. His brother and new sister-in-law are lovely! Right in the middle of their wedding day they presented Simon and i with a very nice bottle of white chocolate liqueur for helping out. Which... well, im not really used to thank you presents, you help out where you can and thats all. But it was really nice to get that. Can't say i don't envy them though... Florida for 3 weeks.... fuh. -.-

So now i'm back at uni, settling in Nicely. New timetable is a bitch, they're all MORNING lectures. God knows what i'm gonna do here. Looks like i'm gonna have to grin and bear it i suppose. This year is achievement year anyway. By Christmas i'll have settled nicely into writing for the uni newspaper, plus being secretary for RAG (Raise And Give) Society, and the occasional dive. Lets hope, eh?

Anyway, like i said, this blog isn't about much. This was just to let you know im still alive and that ill be writing much more from now on. And i MEAN it this time!

NOT on My Watch...

Whoever said "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me" is a complete fool. I've never known anything hurt more than a word or a name spat in venom.

This blog isn't about me, per se, although i have seen my fair share of plain and simple bullying, which is exactly why i'm the way i am today, and i'd like to say this: i will NEVER stand by and watch it happen to another person.

This has all come about because of my place of work (yes, i realise that internet and employment NEVER mix but to be honest, i think my boss is far too up his own sphincter to take interest in what other people do outside of his restaurant) and the people in it. Basically, aside from my boss, i am the oldest waitress - as a result i seem to have fallen into a place of confidence amongst the younger staff who are too intimidated by my boss to talk to him personally. One girl in particular is fifteen, and is experiencing a lot of trouble with one of the chefs. In short, he's making her work life a misery.

She has a number of options open to her. One is to stand up for herself. Another is to leave. Well, shes tried the first and it lands her in trouble. The second isn't an option for many reasons, and the main conclusion is, why should she have to?

She shouldn't, is the answer, quite simply because this sort of thing SHOULDN'T be happening in a place of work. Something should be done and the only reason nothing is being done, is because nobody dare stand up to my boss, or to the bullying chef..

Well, i dare.

The majority of my family tell me that i shouldn't get involved, that my own job will suffer, that i may be sacked, etc etc. To be perfectly honest, id be able to live with myself far easier if i got sacked for doing what was right, rather than getting paid to keep my trap shut. I sure as hell will NOT do it. As far as i'm aware, the rules are on my side. And the side of the people im looking out for.

Seriously though, what kind of employee lets his staff bully each other?!

GRRRR!

Fixed?

Alright, as per request by Katie Parker (BARRYYYYYYY!) This post is to be about addiction.

It occurred to me, while i was trying to think of what to write, that everyone is addicted to something. We, as a race, do not like the word 'addiction' because, nt only is it stigmatised as being used to describe bad addictions, such as drugs and the like, it also insinuates an apparent giving over of control. We can't HELP being addicted to something, and that takes away our independence. Its a big no-no to some people.

But addiction isn't necessarily a bad thing. Sure, its usually associated with drugs, alcohol and gambling and the like. But in this its not the addiction thats the problem, its the object of the addiction no? these things, even in moderation, are a very sharp knife-edge to be walking on.

So when good things come along and we find ourself unable to be away from them, what do we do then? we get scared because weve lost control of our senses in a way. the mind tells you that addiction is bad, so you shy away from any behaviour that shows the tell-tale signs. But sometimes you become addicted to things without even knowing it. Love, if you like. You become addicted to a person. You spend all your time with them and can't bear to be apart from them for long. is that not a sort of addiction? What about music? You turn your radio on because you cant bear the silence. What would happen if your radio broke? would you go mad? What about all the things that, if you think about it, you wouldnt dare be without?

Its almost, in a way, the whole "if you were trapped on a desert island" thing. If you could find a way to wrangle your fate you would take as much with you as possible because you are dependant on the things around you that provide you with some form of comfort. thats what addiction is; its becoming dependant on something that, in your own opinion, enhances your lifestyle. So addiction can't really wrong, per se.

In the meantime, heres a list of things i'm addicted to:

- music
- Chocolate
- wotsits (cheesy puffs for the international readers :3)

- facebook (who isnt?)

- my friends. i get withdrawal symptoms being on my own!

What are you addicted to? what could you not live without, if push came to shove? Hmmm.

Habere, Deus

This week has been purely Surreal. I've said that a lot this week but for those who know the tale will agree with it, and once you yourself have read it, you'll understand it.

My nana has suffered with Emphysema for a long time now. She collapsed in 2006, and was given an oxygen tank and a mask, which she has to wear 15 hours a day to be comfortable.

Last week, things got the better of her and she admitted herself to hospital for respite. Sunday we visited her and she seemed to be doing better.

Monday morning, her birthday, no less, we got a call. THE call that you dread. "You'd better come to hospital as soon as possible." We all told our bosses where we were going, and headed to hospital as fast as possible. After getting calls, her 4 children and 5 grandchildren, along with partners, rushed to the hospital. And she was in a very bad way... She had a huge mask strapped to her face, and she just looked so frail. Frail isnt something my nana is. Shes the most head-stubborn woman i've ever met. But still, there she lay, literally knocking at heavens door.

By Tuesday afternoon, every single one of us had accepted the inevitable. Consultants had told us not to hope. There was no way she could recover. My nana, in her consciousness, tried to school us, comfort us. My nana to a tee - she was comforting us. She told us she was ready to be with the family that had already passed.

And then, by Tuesday evening she had picked up. Her heart rate had slowed from abnormal to somewhat normal. Her breath capacity had improved by a third - a figure we hadn't seen for months, even when she was at home.

Wednesday morning, the doctors announbced that my nana was well enough to come home - said through splutters of disbelief. Its a miracle, they said. "We can't understand how she's still alive. There is no medical reason for her recovery."

Too bloody right it's a miracle!

I remembered then, what i'd said as watched her struggling in-between worlds. God, i haven't ever asked for much, and never for myself. But my family aren't ready for life without my nana. My mum still needs her mum. If you can save her, i promise i'll listen to you more. ill go to church, i'll do anything.

The prospect of getting up early on a sunday morning has never looked so optimistic. I have someone to thank, and i made a promise. Someone has saved my nana, and i'll keep to my word.

Shes coming home today, and i couldn't be more thankful. And even through the preparing for undescribable grief, i was amazed (as were the doctors) by my family. Thirteen of us were in one room to support my nana within 5 hours. (some of us live further away than others). The doctors suggested that the overwhelming support we all provided had something to do with her recovery. The hospital said they haven't ever seen that level of dedication. Well, why shouldnt we be here? we love our family, were here when something goes wrong.

What else astounded me was my own strength. I kept level headed around my family. My worst moment was when i was trying to sleep the first night and all i could see was my nana with a horrible mask on her face, looking the frailest id ever seen her, and, if im honest, not looking remotely like herself at all. it was horrifying to think that she was in as much pain as the vision looked like it was giving her.

A message for smokers: Ive never been a militant 'dont smoke' person. To tell the truth i've had one or two myself when ive been drunk. But if not for yourself, for the sake of your family, quit. Don't ever let them see you in a hospital bed, suffocating on your own lungs. Its too horrifying to watch someone you love so unconditionally go through that level of pain.

For now, though, im grateful for my life. My nana has been given back her life and her health. For now, at least. I'm also very privileged to have a very nice guy helping me through all this. Hes a gem, despite a few glitches back in the past.

New day, new outlook, new life.

Thank you, God.

Bring me my chariot of fire!

This is probably going to be the oddest thing i've ever said and its going to take a looooooong blog to clarify what i mean by this. but...

Isn't religion incredible?!

The main bulk of this - i am afraid for those of different religions reading this - is going to be about western religion, predominantly Catholicism, because its the one that has evoked my current wonder. Its not that i favour Catholicism... far from it actually, because i am a polytheist. And, really, this is more to do with... the Renaissance than it is to do with religion itself, but of course, the two are heavily connected.

So heres the deal. I went to see Angels and Demons this week. And... well, im amazed, truly, at Dan Brown's skill (shock horror here, but a writer, who hasn't read any of his books... thats a regrettable decision im going to change as soon as i can!) and i've realised, that even though i hate the idea of hypocrisy that is created by Catholicism sometimes, i LOVE the art and the thought surrounding it, and the books.

I found it fascinating to see how the fictional character Robert Langdon found his way to a place so theoretical and buried in myth and hearsay, simply by following works of art. And, i'm willing to bet that these were not the intentions of the artists mentioned... Raphael Santi, Michaelangelo Simoni, Giovanni Bernini... it was incredible to see how they fit and how such a divine and intense plot was formed around them.

But then the art alone is something to be marveled at. Ive always thought that i would visit Rome for it's Pagan ruins; the pantheon and the colusseum. Survivors of the ancient world. Never, in my wildest imagination, did i think that Rome would hold even better history after that time.

Although the History of Catholicism is bloody (ive heard somewhere that out of the history of Popes, 230 have died in violent cases) it seems to carry with it a colourful and more positive light. one of art and thought... although these two have laid in conflict, often they work together.

Such famous characters as Galileo and Descartes, Ficino, Da Vinci... masters of thought and of modern thinking. Pioneers of their time... Strangely, names we know but cannot offer much more about what they did than a quote or "that painting he did, the vit.. something" (the Vitruvian Man is what i was going for there) but they have shaped so much of our time, im glad that such a fictional masterpiece has been published to give them due credit.

The whole ado, i suppose, also, has redeemed my opinion of the Catholic Church. Although there are some things i disagree with (rules that once worked, that are now outdated; but maybe such is the way that catholicism is what it is, and is thus followed by millions of people worldwide) it has a new light for me. Ive always been fascinated with the stereotypes.... confession, mass, the latin... catholicism has always seemed to me to be a more educated and age-old religion (allbeit a biased one). The films based on the books by Dan Brown, have made me much more intrigued about papal conclave and the like. i like, that there is so much meaning in things we label simple, and how such simple things can be interpreted and woven into these amazing tales. I think its safe to say, i love the decorations of Catholicism. Whether id go as far as to say i agree with the teachings themselves... is a very different story.

There was a part of the film where i had to stop and think, though. Exactly what do i not agree with here? the principle? i think its the negative effect it has on people, to create people into mindless sheep who believe that they need to be led to live when this isnt necessarily so. This, i suppose, is why the church was so offended by the idea of science during the renaissance - science proved that people could choose for themselves. But - and this is coming from a woman with much less faith than knowledge - science is no substitute for knowing you have somebody looking out for you, and this was more or less proved to me whern i heard this quote:

"My church?! My Church comforts the sick and the hungry, comforts the dying. What does your church do?" (Commander Richter)

And its true! Credit to the church, although i don't follow it, many do, and if it gives them comfort, well then, good for them. With such power and majesty surrounding it, i'd happily follow if i had such ardent faith.

On a separate note, kudos to Hans Zimmer, for once again creating a musical score that has left me breathless. Hans Zimmer has composed the musical score for many brilliant and favourite films including The Lion King, Pirates of the Caribbean, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron and Gladiator. Having done the score for both Dan Brown - based films, i think i now worship the man. I urge everyone to listen to the song Chevaliers de Sangreal - Those who have seen The Da Vinci Code may remember it well.

"The Holy grail, 'neath ancient Rosalyn waits..

Adorned in Master's loving arms, she lies.

The blade and chalice, guarding, are her gates,

She rests, at last, beneath starry skies."

ARGH! I BLOODY LOVE THIS STUFF! :D

I am DEFINITELY scared of Becky Taylor.*

Alright, so, i know i haven't blogged in a while so i thought, amidst my busy schedule of doing... well, nothing, i'd do SOMETHING.

I've been home in Bridlington for the past five weeks, working and entertaining friends and family. I managed to get those diabolical essays out of the way and everything, just in time to come home and do more work. At least the work i was doing this easter was brainless.

To be perfectly honest, i might have left this blog a lot longer, even though ive been reminding myself to write for aaaaaages - frankly, my motivation levels are akin to the braincells of a chav, i.e. next to none. But then, the most random event occured and i just had to, to process this incident in my head.

People really surprise me sometimes. The first odd thing that happened this week is my ex, talking to me. Without (i assume) an ulterior motive - very strange indeed. I'm... i wouldn't say happy because im still slightly suspicious, but id like to think its the start of something civil.

The second, and even stranger occurence is an old schoolmate getting in touch with me to tell me to write more.

I'm used to being suspicious of people. But i was woken up by a text the other morning by a girl i used to go to school with. Roxanne and i were in a few lessons together, and have a few marital family connections. At school, i assumed, as i assumed with most people that i wouldn't have much influence or really even be liked. By several people, in fact.

This text confused me (as many things do at 6.30am) and i spent a good while making sure i wasn't dreaming. (at this point that morning i was also having an argument with the water by my bed. No alcohol involved but i didnt remember getting it. CONFOOOOOJUN!) i dont think i can really get across how nice it was to have someone who i didn't think would still be interested in what im currently doing, to text me asking me to write more. For one it was nice to know that a few people in my year can actually read (hehe, only joking!) and more so, it was nice to know that i'm not just writing pointlessly, someone is getting joy from this - which is why i started it in the first place. Roxanne, your story is on it's way. I've started writing it and i'll get it to you ASAP!

On a completely random note:

- I completely fancy Barack Obama and Marco Pierre White.

- Im STILL not over my twilight saga obsession.

- Im jived to be going back to Swansea

- I worked 40 hours last week and can't wait for a lie in

- I am DEFINITELY scared of Becky Taylor. (*side note, this may only make sense to those living in the UK.)

Eye of the Storm

ARGH. I HATE essays. i've just spent the past week banging my head against a brick wall (well, not literally although im sure it wouldnt have been as painful) over this essay. Socrates, oratory, Gorgias, persuasion, conviction, blah, blah, blah.

WHAAAAAAT? i think i wrote the 2000 word essay in a trance, where in my subconscious i understood actual Greek. I could swear thats what my book was written in.

And i finished it, JUST in time to fret about the next one due Wednesday, which is to evaluate a Roman city. *cries*

i HATE ESSAYS! hate hate hate! go read Gorgias and you'll see why!

Hellspawn?

Right, having a hard time of it recently. Essay due on the 11th on a subject im not properly enrolled for (technicians wont sort it out quick enough) and i dont have an actual working computer at home.

This. Makes. Me. ANGRY.

I'm not talking the hulk, im talking complete monster sent from the depths of hell crabby. I'm properly driving Brinners and Kayleigh nuts with my arsy ways but i dont give a rats ass this week, im in full strop mode. Oh, having no money doesnt help either... =/

On the other hand, there are some things going well. To mention them precisely would be a taboo of a jinx and all, so im not going to say anything right now but i have hope.

Picking up my tarot cards again, trying to learn them a bit more. the more i learn though, the more i get confused. such contradictory meanings. Maybe its just a reflection of some wise epiphany; LIFE itself is unpredictable. It cannot BE predicted. its all 'ifs' and 'mights'.

As requested by Miss John, a word or two on the effects of alcohol. (Purely fiction of course ;])

I was first aware of my own existence that morning when i felt a dull pain in my earlobe. I stirred slightly, confused. It didn't take long for me to realise what was causing my discomfort - my best pair of earrings, pressed against my neck so that when i finally reached up to take them out i could feel the marks they'd left behind. This movement created a new problem - i was suddenly very aware of the fact that i seemed to have fallen alseep on a merry-go-round. I opened my eyes slowly to find i was staring at a ceiling. A still ceiling. Oh God, i thought, that meant i was still drunk. I tried to sit up slowly, looking around the room. My desk had moved. Not just a little bit, either - it had traveled from its place at my window, to a new place a foot away from the door. I shook my head, instantly regretting the movement when it brought a fresh wave of nausea to the surface. Clapping a hand over my mouth, i scrambled my way out of the bed, yanking the door open and flying across the hall to the toilet.

Some minutes later, eyes watering and my breath tasting like something described only in tales of terrible sea-monsters, i shuffled my way back into my room, trying to piece together the fragments of memory i could remember from the previous night. I had left the club at 3am, i knew that much. Someone had dropped me in a taxi, paid it and sent me home. With a lurch of unease, i checked my phone. Remembering horror stories about ex-texting and the likes. Although i had no ex to text in such a way, i still had family and friends that would laugh, cry or be plain horrified by the drunken stupor i must have slipped into.

5 messages. Crap. With a sigh of relief, i found that most of them had been "where are you" messages that had gotten lost, along with my signal, on the dancefloor. The last, though, confused me.
"Who was that guy? hope you got home ok, text me when you get this." My best friend, ever vigiliant, more like a mother, had text me, at 4am, making sure i was ok. But what guy did she mean?

I was scared by this point. My brain continued to try and make connections between the sparse flashbacks that flickered through my mind every so often, but nothing really fit. Somehow, i had lost a whole two hours of my evening...

Mew?

Ive just totally realised that recently, i only post a blog when im angry or upset at life, and thats generally a bit too emo. so, this week, i give you...

RAINBOWS
BUTTERFLIES
AND BUNNIES (Oh my!)

Broadcasting this message from my place of work, Woody's bar. Much ado about nothing really, its a lovely little bar with lovely little (and several tall) people. But ive spent the day cleaning and hanging with my best buds. Oh, great, i can feel it coming up like vomit, this is gonna be a dedication... Screw it, i don't mind this. I'm feeling all lovey-dovey. :D

Brinners. The very word speaks for itself. No - hehe. We have some crazy times, mainly consisting over laughing about fighting hamsters, pulling funny faces, and shes even laughing Right. Now.

Kayleigh. Shes my substitute mother, i can always count on her to put her in my place when i fall out of it. :D

Liam Stacey ACTUALLY gives love a bad name. (apparently.)

Becky "Wawiwow" (so named because of an awkward week with an inflamed tongue) is my rock buddy. we RAWK. \m/ ("Yeah we do!")

Mark, i can't leave him out. He makes life more random. Good times. TRUMPETS!

So, while this blog holds no intellctual water WHATSOEVER, its good, once in a while, just to be silly and allow your friends to sort life out for you. I'm in a GOOD mood today, and its all ok.

"One of the oldest Human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you dont come home at night."

Box Full of Razors

Imagine that, for a second. Your current affairs, are a box full of razors, and you have to keep digging your hand in.

Gross. Now i'm all cut up and bleeding everywhere.

See the thing is, things happen throughout the course of your life that piss you off, and the more you wish you could try stopping their rampage of piss-you-off-ness, they just KEEP growing until other people become involved, and you snap.

So my ex hates me. Fair enough. He communicates this idea by ignoring me.. in a way that ensures i notice. The main issue here is, we both work in the same place (a BIG mistake if ever i saw one, but we weren't working together when we got together) and we both share lots of mutual friends. Which means hes always in my face with his 'i hate you so much im ignoring you so HA' attitude. I personally would be quite happy to talk to him again and be civil. I broke up with him for all the bad qualities he flaunts around, but it doesnt mean i dont CARE any more.

Which brings me to my next point. His new girlfriend. She is.. in a word, AMAZING. I didn't talk to her so much in the beginning - mostly because i thought if my ex had his way she'd hate me too, but no. We get along rather well (much to his chagrin i expect) and this is most circumstances would be a good thing... it was until last night.

The bar i work at is a 10 minute drive from the vicinity of both my house, my ex's and his new lass. Last night it was raining heavily so i was getting a taxi, with my friend, we were gonna split the fare... yeah. My ex offers my friend a ride, but not me. Cue ugly row in which ex's lass argues with him and forces him to offer me a ride too. which he doesn't he storms off, pissed off at her, muttering over his shoulder 'Tell em to come down then' (because he can hardly bring himself to say my name) and she ends up in tears, apologising to ME.

This deserves a big ol' DOUBLE YEW TEE EFF. This pissed me off to no end. Yes, we have a large riff between us, my ex and i, regretfully. But who in the hell does he think he is, that he would rather row with his new girlfriend than be civil for a matter of minutes?! I'm thinking i cut loose at the right time, and i feel so sorry for her because shes a lovely girl, and its not her fault, and its wrong of him to get pissy at her. If he wants to get pissy at anyone, he can come to me.

If he could just swallow his pride for once... Boys will be boys though, right?