Dancing Queen

I am proud to share Ms. Abba-Doodle's Winter Recital. She is the tall one stage right of the teacher. I am SO proud of her, she is doing so well.

AND!!!

She was December's Student of the Month for her first grade class.

Great grades and grace-

How lucky am I?

Clean as a Whistle*

*WARNING* Gross, nasty, disgusting and WAY too much information ahead. If you are not interested please don't read any further. If you are- I'm sorry.

Hi. My name is Cat. I'm 32 years old and I have a spasming colon. Yes, it's true. You may well ask, "How do you know this information, Cat?". One word...

COLONOSCOPY!!!! Originating from the latin- Colon meaning butt and Oscopy meaning camera UP the butt. How fun for me. And now... how fun for you...

So... I'm sent to a gastrointerologist- otherwise known as tummy doctor- to diagnose why my abdomen hates me. When I first made my appointment to see Dr. Reddy, the receptionist asked me the reason for my visit. I simply replied, "Mu abdomen hates me" to which I was greeted with silence. Poor girl. She didn't know how to respond. After establishing that, No, I was not dying, and yes, I could wait a few weeks, I was set up to see Dr. Reddy.

Dr. Reddy listened very patiently while I gave him the long sordid past of my hateful abdomen. Not once did he laugh at me. When my pathetic tale was through, he said, "I know whats wrong with you?" To which I replied, "Finally my life's quest is complete!". No, I didn't really say that, at least not on the outside. Anyhow he told me I have IBS- Irritable Bowel Syndrome. So basically I have a pissed off intestine; an curmudgeonly colon, cranky crapper, etc. No shit SHERLOCK! (again, I did NOT say this out loud but I thought it REALLY loud!)

Apparently the genius diagnosis was not enough for Dr. Reddy- "just to be sure", he said, "let's do a colonoscopy!"

Oh joy of joys! Anyone who know anything about this knows that "The Prep is the Worst!". So, Dr. Reddy, having a grand sense of humor, proceeds to tell me ALL about the 6 different "preps". 6 different ways to make yourself poo until you're blue in the face. I chose the, "Drink this with something you hate because you'll never drink it again" prep.

When booking my appointment, I discovered that maybe I shouldn't try to do it 2 days before Thanksgiving. Just a bad idea. Instead I pick the second week in December. Now, there are few things in life that incite the C word (crap) quite like jury duty. I received my first summons to appear during the run of the Miser and decided to postpone. Guess when I was rescheduled for? Yep, you guessed it! The Monday before my torture- I mean test. Being the lazy gal that I am, I decided to put my self in fates hands and hope I was excused on Monday thereby being free to poop on Tuesday.

As fate, life or whatever would have it, I was old by a very nice computer that I need not report until Tuesday at noon. Tuesday at noon was just, coincidentally, the same EXACT time I was to begin the "prep". Really!?!?!? Seriously.

So come Tuesday morning I rush down to the local courthouse to present my case. I explain, ever so nicely, to the Jury Lady that I have a medical appointment tomorrow and can not serve today. I have already postponed but don't know what to do. She politely tells me I am only allowed ONE postponement in a 90 day period. "Yes, I know,"I say, "but I have a (whispered) colonoscopy tomorrow." I tell her I am MORE than willing to come back on Monday or even Thursday but I just can't do it today. Once I tell her that I am willing to be here she gladly postpones me until the following week and as I sail out the door she calls, "Good Luck! Been there! Done that!". Awesome, it's like I've joined some special club.

Now I'm free to begin.... THE PREP!!! Having not eaten anything past midnight I am starving, but know that I'm SOL (so to speak). Choosing to believe Dr. Reddy that I will never again want to drink whatever I choose to put the salty prep in I choose Apple Juice. I already hate apple Juice, so I figured how could it get worse. EWWWWWW.... the only thing worse than apple juice is SALTY apple juice. I bravely chug down bottle number one of the salty-apple cocktail and hunker down to wait.

Having been through something similar before I know to have a good book ready and a pillow by the toilet. You never know when you'll need a nap. :)

Ok... so by now you can kind of figure out what my next 12 hours were like. Suffice it to say... I hate jello and never want to eat it again... Jello is the only "solid" "food" I was allowed that fateful Tuesday. Sigh... the only thing I would recommend to any one unfortunate enough to embark on this journey is this... DON'T but the cheap one-ply toilet paper. Go all out, splurge on the thickest softest 2-ply out there. Trust me on this one. Seriously.

That being done it was time for the test. At 5 am the next morning after trying to sleep with a clenched butthole I was luck enough to drive myself to the hospital. A miscommunication left me without a driver. Don't worry my husband was able to drive me home.

Off I shuffled to the endiscopy ward in my grey sweats, grey nightgown, "Grumpy" sweatshirt and little red hat covering my bed head hair do. I arrived before the doors to the hospital even open, was signed in and set up. I got to change into 2 gowns, one to cover the front and one for the back; how nice of them. Once I was trundled up into the hospital bed and covered with the wonderful warm hospital blankets, the real fun began. Oh I'm sorry, did you think the story was over? Did you think that I didn't have MORE drama for you? Seriously? Have we met?

Ok as many of you may know I HATE needles. Not the sewing kind but the Vampiric- I want your blood- kind. HATE is to soft a term. Loathe. Detest. Abhor! But an IV is required for the procedure. I warn the very sweet nurse about my stupid psychosis, but having had two babies before I figured I could do it.

Apparently not... as the nice nurse put on the rubber thing that restricts your blood flow my whole body went cold and I began to shake- a lot! I kept shaking, and shaking... and shaking. Eventually I have 4- count 'em... 4... nurses trying to give me an IV. I was crying and apologizing and shaking. So cold. Stuttering. At one point I had 8 blankets one me. It took 3 tries to find a vein. My veins are already small, make them dehydrated and scared and they disappear. Once the IV was in the kind nurses gave me a big ol dose of Atavan- make me sleep medicine. I passed out so quickly I don't even remember being rolled out to the procedure. I vaguely recall being pushed out to the car. The first thing I was even remotely aware of was waking up at 4 pm STARVING!!!!!

While the whole process was embarrassing, awful and scary I'm glad I did it. You'll be pleased to know I don't have cancer, Chron's diseases or polyps. I do however, have IBS (duh), internal hemorrhoids and a colon spasm. I also have pictures! I will in an effort to remain friends refrain from sharing those in the forthcoming Christmas cards. SO the mystery of my abdomen still remains somewhat. My Superpoo highway has a roadblock at one point and a couple bumps along the road. According to my Dr. I am supposed to take a strange drug everyday that should help ease traffic, but I'm not so sure about it effectiveness. I don't need the autobahn of intestinal highways either! Look out Metamucil cookies here I come... but that's another story for another day...

I wish you all the best of luck getting some of these images out of your head, but you can't say I didn't warn you.

(As a side note my husband said I was full of shit on that Tuesday and for the first time in my life I could honesty say, "No I'm not!")

The Miser!

My last few weeks have been amazing, crazy, busy and fun! AWESOME!

When we decided to put up The Miser this season I was so excited. It is one of my favorite plays and one I've always wanted to be in. In passing, I mentioned that to the director. He invited me to audition and cast me as Frosine- the Matchmaker. We've set the play in the second age of excess-the 1908s. IT IS SO MUCH FUN! and SO much work.

I'm very blessed to have been able to be a part of this production, with the support of the department, but, most of all, the support of my family. Thank you- Randy, Danny, Suzie, Mama and Papa. Thank you for letting me realize a dream!

We finish up this week. Performances are Nov. 20,21,22 and 23. All performances are at 8 except Sunday at 2pm.

Hope to see you there!

3 Years Ago Today!

Happy Birthday to My Best Boy!

Alexander William Randall Erickson

9-6-05

6 years ago today!

Happy Birthday to my best girl!

Annabelle Caitlyn Erickson- 08-23-02

Here's the haps

So in the more recent news of the Erickson household...

Logan Arthur has been booted off to boot camp. He's joined the Army and has reported for duty in some eastern state.

I think he looks very nice with his new regulation hair cut. He came to visit us for the evening, we took him to the Japanese Teppan grill. He seemed to enjoy it and it was good to see him get along with his older brother- even if it was only for a few hours.

My oldest nephew is now a father. He and his girlfriend have a baby girl- Shyanne Rayne Bullard. Shyanne was born on July 18 right into her grandmothers arms. Apparently her Mama was having some uncomfortable back ache, but the baby wasn't due for another week or so. In the middle of the night Mama woke up Grandma (my sister) and said she should probably go to the hospital and in the few moments it took my sister to get ready, Mama suddenly said Oh NO! and out popped Shyanne! My sister caught her and all is well!

August has finally arrived... In the next couple weeks I will finish up with the FTC productions of "Othello" and "Two Gentleman of Verona". I haven't costumed 2 summer shows in a LONG time- now I remember why I don't do it! I'll be happy to see the productions up and running.

I am pleased to work with so many of out CSUSB students outside of school and make new friends and contacts, but I think that maybe I really do need a break from putting up a show during the summer- I end up burnt out and crabby. As we all know, I'm usually crabby, but burnt out too is NOT good!

So... there's some recent news from our end of the universe- What's new with you?

Next Time on "Wild Kingdom"...

So apprently my backyard is the new locale of "Wild Kingdom". I have 2 episodes for you and both invlove a boy and his dog.

Picture, if you will, a warm weekday mid-morning. Early summer, late spring. A sleepy mother had just reawakened for the day having already taken her Kindergartener to school. The happy noises of a boy and his dog coming from the backyard. As she groggily stumbles to the bathroom to begin the day (if you know what I mean) her mind is jerked awake by a knock at the door. "Mommy we have to help the bird" "What?" Again..."Mommy we have to help the bird" Again... "What?".... "A bird?" We don't have a bird..." The mother, in her confusion and not fully clothed state follows her little cherub outside to find.... THE BIRD.

In the backyard is a small Adirondak chair- As seen here, it is a chair with several slats. Her chair has the slats VERY close together.

Now that you have the visual....

As she opens the sliding door, she gasps in dismay to see a small bird with one of it's tiny feet caught between 2 slats, hanging upside down. Blood all over. Poop all over. The little cherub points, "Mommy we have to help the bird!"

Yes, yes we do, the question is...HOW?

The bleary-eyed mother begins to dither. As she approaches the poor creature it begins flapping around in a panic. So she begins fluttering around in a panic. NOT good bird retreival technique. Gathering her wits about her (not much to gather) she goes into the house for reinforcements. Deciding to use a dish cloth, bamboo skewer and a knife, she reemerges into the back yard. Covering the bird with the towel to calm it's nerves (and hers) she begins to try to free the bird. Poking at the poor birds foot produces no good result. Trying to wedge the slats apart with the knife is only marginally better. Finally, in a flash of brillance she runs for the hammer!

Easy there... this is a family show- the hammer is for the slat. Gingerly holding the bird in the towel with one hand and deflty weilding a hammer with the other, the frazzled mother strikes a blow for bird freedom. As the small sparrow slips free of it's fetters it's little heart rapidly beating- the true comedy begins.

Clutching her injured prize to her bosom, she begins running about like a chicken with.... wait, bad metaphor, um... let's see... running around like a... well you get the idea. As she's running about looking for the proper recepticle for her bundle of bird muttering about how to call a vet and wondering if birds can wear a cast, she begins to rock the bird. Yes, that's right she's ROCKING the bird, as if this will calm, the now terrified, creature.

After bundling the bird in a box, she decides to use her life line and call a friend. Her trusty and ever reliable husband tells her to simply let the bird go. WHAT?!!? Shouldn't she take it to the vet for expensive and painful tests!?!?! No... Let the bird go...either he'll survive or he won't... Wow, that's harsh... But really, how is it different from any other day? Circle of life and all that...

So... Following her helpful hubbies suggestion she prepares to release him into the wild... before she can even unveil the bird off he flits and, while slightly lopsided, escapes into the wild blue yonder... And while slightly shaken and more than a little concerned about bird flu, she feels pretty darn good about her morning.

-End Episode One-

Fade In... Again we begin our story with a boy and his dog... But let me warn you... this tale has no happy ending...

Again the bleary-eyed Mama awakes to find her cherub out of doors. As she goes to greet her son she starts at what is before her. As it's the first part of her day, she forgot to put on her glasses, but even in her myopic condition she see what she thinks is the underbelly of a turtle.

A turtle? We don't have a turtle? And why is the turtle on the dogs pillow?

"Where did THAT come from?" she tries not to screech. "The kitty" "What? The Kitty? What kitty?" "WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?!"

"The Kitties house"

Ok, so she decides the origin of the amphibian must remain a mystery. Upon closer inspection and to her dismay it quickly becomes clear that the poor little guy isn't playing opossum. The well chewed turtle is well past his 9th life.

Now to be fair, just HOW and WHEN the turtle was chewed up was still a mystery, but her gut feeling was that the poor creature had long met his maker before the boy and his dog came upon him.

After moving past the sad stage to the more than disgusted phase, again comes the dithering. She tends to dither- it's her thing. So after going in cirlces for a couple seconds and regaining control of her gag reflex she comes to a decision.

To the trash can she goes and after a slight moment of regret for the fairly new dog pillow, she carries the poor guy upon the funeral pillow to "the can". The only tricky part came when she tried to open the backyard gate with one hand and nearly dumped the chewed up corpse on her head...Ewwww

-End Episode 2-

Look forward to our next crazy adventure of a our bleary-eyed Mama and her amazing backyard antics... Who knows what Wild Animal will grace her patio next?

Fork...in...my...eye

Let's say you're a chair maker... ok? and you make custom chairs. And you've been hired to make 80 chairs. 40 in a renaissance style and 40 in a 1940s style. No problem right? Sure- can do!

SO you go to a meeting with your client and the tell you that they'd like to take some preview pictures of your chairs a few weeks before they're due. Ok no problem- can do! Oh, and you'll only have a hour to set up- ok no problem- can do! And... they really want to see all 80 chairs in the picture, it sells more... UM....PROBLEM! NO CAN DO.... You want me to bring all of my chairs, when I haven't even finished putting them all together yet, AND SET THEM UP IN ONE HOUR!?! TWO DIFFERENT TYPES OF CHAIRS? AT ONCE.

"Well, they say, "I GUESS we could pay for an extra hour for the photographer. Just throw anything out there"

So let me get this straight, you want me to bring all 80 chairs, in various states of repair, for you to take pictures of... pictures that will represent MY work, and "JUST THROW ANYTHING OUT THERE"?

No- simply put no. There's not enough time. NO.

I don't like saying NO- especially is an astounded and shrill voice, but I did... I said no.


I should just go into the fork industry...

Hellooooo? Are you still reading?

Pot? This is Kettle calling... So, yeah...about that whole, "You need to blog more" comment. Um... my bad.

So where have I been, you may ask? Good question. I've been busy with Hamlet. Scratch that, TWO Hamlets. At once. In rep. And...GO!

Well that's all done now and I've been busy wrapping up the school year and going on a mini-vacation.

The fam and I flew up to see Danielle get her diploma case for her MFA. We had a great time and came home with a new appreciation for board/card games.

I know this all very uninformative, but HEY! IT'S A BLOG!

Bottom line- I miss my friends and must see them more...

A Couple Things

First- (and foremost)

My Hubby and I took a week long vacation to Lake Tahoe. This is our first "adult" vacation in 4 years. Meaning longer than 72 hours!

Boy does my butt hurt, but we sure had fun. Now before those eyebrows get raised TOO high, let me explain. We went snowboarding- a lot. Well ok, 3 days for me and 5 for Randy and for me, that's a lot!

Our hotel was 200 yard from the ski lift gondola to the top of the mountain. The village had several yummy restaurants and cute shops. We visited friends and they came up to see us too! On the whole it was AWESOME!!!

It was so nice to spend a week with just my Hubby. And guess what?!?! I still like him- I always knew I loved him, but every now and again we need to be reminded that our spouse is more than "That guy who helps with the laundry and picks up the kids". He's funny. He sweet. He handsome- Wow I need to remind myself more often!

I also enjoyed the snowboarding. It's so much fun. I TOTALLY suck at it, but I kept getting back up again. Except for the one time I fell so hard I think I broke my butt. That took a few moments of just kneeling in the snow waiting to see if I could think again. I'm bad at it but don't care I have fun and really, isn't that what it's about. My Hubby and I can share an activity together that is fun, challenging, filled with exercise (what's that?) and gorgeous scenery- I can't wait to go again next year!


Second....

I've been thinking about life and plans. Life's short and plans get pushed aside. Well BAH!

Here's what I am proposing:

3-day Mexican Cruise. "Us" girls. August.

Plenty of time to save up. (and maybe find a cheap deal)
Plenty of time to prepare.
Plenty of reasons to go: FUN, FOOD, FUN, SUN, FUN, FRIENDS,FUN, FUN,FUN!

Ok girls: Who's with me?

Life is too short to miss out on a fun weekend. Too short to sweat the small stuff and too short for excuses.

And this summer, who knows? I may even try surfing!

Please sir... May I Have Some More?

I can remember being "younger" and thinking that if I made $60,000 a year, I'd be set for life. I don't need a million dollars (not that I'd turn it down mind you) I just don't need it. I have many "things" and lots of "stuff" so I really don't need more.

However, as an official adult, I am finding the age old truth that the all might dollar is nothing but a wimp. I don't make $60,000 a year, but I do ok- and am grateful for it. My husband, the glamorous pilot- currently makes less than I do. WHAT? Are you astounded? Don't all pilots make over $100,000 a month? I mean really? Well, no... in fact, the average first year pay for a co-pilot/first officer is less than $40,000 a year. And they work like demons for it too.

So to be clear, I am by no means poor and do not mean to act as if I am in the poor house. We have nice things, we have a house etc. and I am grateful for it- truly. But to come to the REAL point of all of this nonsense is this.... How do I ask for a raise? I despise asking people for more recognition.

It's not like I can walk in and say, "Hi! I've been here for 3 years without a non "cola" raise and I think you need to give me more money."

"Why? Oh you want to know why my piece of the pie should be bigger?"

"Um.... because.... umm... Hang on let me think."

Where the problem comes in has nothing to do with money. It has to do with ego and fear. I am afraid to be told, "No. You suck. In fact you should pay us to work here."

I also don't know how to sell myself- Yes I'm good at my job. But really, how on earth am I going to explain what I do and why it's important to your average "bean counter"? Half the people I meet have no idea what my job entails and about a third of those think I just muck about playing dress up.

No, my job is not required to keep society moving. In fact, the arts are often the first thing to go to the guillotine of budget cuts. But my work has value, and it's hard work too. Not just "anybody" can do my job, or my husbands for that matter.

We worked hard for our education. And now we work hard for the money, so hard for the money... (Sorry bad flashback) So we should at least make enough to pay back the student loans that got us here, right? Maybe I should use that as my justification for a raise. "Pay me so I can pay my loans, so you can have more students that can be in debt too!"

Anyhow... I'm lucky to have a department that will support my efforts to increase my piggy bank, I just wish I felt better about asking for it.

An ass out of me and me?

Assumptions and stereotypes are a mental sucker punch. Boy do I feel like an ass...

Yesterday, while standing in line for my prescription at Target, I observe a small family dynamic. Both children, boys, are dress in monochromatic blue. Jeans and serviceable shirts, nothing fancy. No logos or "bad attitude" sayings on their clothes, just two plain but clean boys. With them is their mother. She is wearing very simple black flats with nylons, an ankle lengths moss green skirt, a white button-down collared shirt and matching moss green hip length vest. Her obviously very long hair is pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. She and her children spoke with an accent, that I could only describe as Eastern European. To my eye, they appeared to be a very strict and simple family. I assumed they were something like Mennonites or Amish. So imagine my surprise when out of her small and plain black purse, Mama pulls out a Blackberry and starts to talk to someone.
Honestly my brain was stuck on stupid for a second- I just couldn't reconcile what I was seeing. But fortunately my brain finally became unstuck and kicked my own ass for being dumb. Just because someone is dressed a certain way does NOT dictate who they are. I should know this very well, considering my profession. I just found my own stereotypes and assumptions to be funny. Makes me wonder what people assume about me? Maybe I shouldn't ask...

Oh- 8?

It's hard to believe that it is now 2008. I can remember when, in the 1990s- oh so long ago- I would imagine the day I turned 24. It would be March of 2000! Wow 2000 and 24, I'd be so grown-up and old.

Needless to say, now I laugh at my naivete. 24 old? I was so dumb at 24, so lost, so confused as to who I was. How can you be grown-up if you don't know your ass from your elbow? Unfortunately, I think I may still need some anatomy lessons. At the grand old age of 31 (32 in March) I am finally starting to sort some things out about my self.

I did not know that I secretly wanted to be a rock star. Can you imagine? Me neither, but it's true. I didn't know that I would really enjoy snowboarding. I do. I really do. I fall down the mountain more often than not, but I still love it. I've also decided something- I want to take race car driving lessons. To some of you that may not be a surprise if you've driven with me, but I found it surprising none the less. I imagine I would giggle the entire time, but I don't care- I feel the need, the need for speed!

Now comes the crux of my situation- #1 I have two small children I should be caring for. I shouldn't be galloping off to relive some missed part of childhood. But... IIIIIIIIIII Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnntttttttttt toooooooooooooo! (Whining didn't work as a kid either- Damn)
#2- I have bills to pay and responsibilities to take care of. Honestly, that will never change so why should it stop me?

But you know what? I'm almost 32 years old and dammit, so what if it's taken me this long to figure some things out? Who says I CAN'T? Me? Well I think I'll just tell myself to stuff it and do these things anyway. So I don't get a record deal- who cares? Look what it did for Brittney- I don't need that circus. So I don't join the winter x-games? I think I'll survive. (I think) So I don't win the Piston Cup? As long as I don't piss my pants I'll be a winner!

Ok- So here goes- my hopes and secret dreams are out in the universe, secret no longer- Let's just see what happens huh? Either way it should be entertaining to watch on video. Maybe I'll make a bundle from my bio-pic on you-tube! Hey, it's a thought.

A Christmas Story!

So in the pre-Christmas insanity I found myself doing a ton of driving. Whenever Randy happens to remain local during his work week I make it a point to take the kids to see him. Luckily for us, he was very local the week before Christmas. He was able to come home and see us on Sunday, we went to Burbank to visit him on Monday and finally on Friday, we were able to go to Van Nuys to see him for dinner. That's a lot of driving!

Van Nuys is far. I can't imagine how Randy used to commute there EVERYDAY for a year!! As I was saying, Van Nuys is far, add to that the holiday Friday traffic and... wow! So it took me 2 hours to get there in stop and go traffic- I left Fontana at 2:30! Soo... after the long haul to get there I was NOT looking forward to the slog home.

Randy took us to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and we enjoyed a tasty dining experience. The kids were a bit wound up from the drive but luckily it was a loud restaurant so we didn't make too much of a scene.

So after dinner I decided to delay the insanity and go to.... TARGET!! I LOVE TARGET!!

We bumble around the two story Target for a bit making our various consumer choices; enjoying the scenery of people. And now comes the whole reason for this diatribe...

I pull in to the check out line of choice and observe the two "young ladies" (I hesitate to use such words) before me- Sexy Suzy and Tarty Tricia. Both gals were wearing the oh-so-trendy aka oh-so-trashy ensemble of tight low rise jeans, mid-riff bearing tee, high heel name brand faux suede and fur boots and the quilted short waisted "jacket". Nice. Both gals had the sloppy pony tail and "I just woke up" make-up going on. But wait it get's better....

Sexy Suzy has a very visible tattoo... on her abdomen... It's the hilt of a sword...The blade is.... pointed DOWN!!! Nice.

Ok that alone is a great scenario... IT GET'S BETTER!

Trendy Tricia places her purchases on the belt and asks for two gift card at $100 each- her total was over $300. Hey it's Christmas!

Now... our final player in this mini melodrama is the cashier... Fred aka KingGamer235... Everything about him is round... his head, his belly, his glasses- EVERYTHING. Even the shape of his bald spot is perfectly round.

So Fred informs Tricia of her Grand total of..$369 and she proceeds to pull out a HUGE ROLL of $1 bills. HUGE! Now I don't know about you, but when a "lady" pulls out a grip of ones I assume one of two things... waitress or... stripper. Either way they're here to serve you.

Anyhow... As Tricia starts peeling her onion of ones, Fred, in an attempt to be flirty, asks AND I QUOTE...."Oh! Been to the casino lately?" *Grinning Roundly*

And now for the piece de resistance!!!

She looks up from her concentrated counting and looks at him with the look only an annoyed stripper can give and says, "Yeah".

That's it. Just, "Yeah" and in that one word conveyed everything! TRANSLATION: "Yeah that's it! The casino! Dumbass. I 've seen you sitting in the club a time or two. In fact I think these 5 dollars are yours from the other night."

Wow... really that's all I can say.