Thursday, May 10, 2012

12 Things You Should Know How to Do

Recently I read an article online about things you should know how to do, and I liked it so much I decided to write my own.

heh heh heh. yeah, not this kind of butt.
There were some things I felt the author left out, and also it could have had more immature butt jokes. And stuff.

So here I am, writing my own bit, oh-so-cleverly titled "12 Things You Should Know How to Do: In No Particular Order at All, Really, Just as They Pop into My Brain."

1. Tell a Joke

This one's pretty simple, on paper, anyway. I think everyone in the world should have at least one joke tucked away into the memory bank of their brain. It doesn't have to be a good joke, it doesn't have to be a particularly funny joke. It just has to be a joke. 

There are lots of reasons for this, but one of the main ones is you can run into a whole lot of awkward, weird, and plain uncomfortable situations that could be made just a tad less painful if you whipped out your joke. 
For example, try to recall the last time you were at the doctor. Don't you think  the experience could have been improved if, while you were laying there staring at the ceiling thinking of England 
wait, wrong euphemism. 
you had thrown in a cute little duck joke or something? Exactly.

2. Speak a Foreign Language

Now this is one that's perhaps a little debatable, but I stand by it. First of all, it's good for your brain to learn another language. No, I'm not going to source that, but if you doubt me so much you can go and look it up. It's true, honest.
you should because here is a neon sign telling you to do so.
Second of all, it just makes you sound smarter! Next time you're losing an argument, you can say airily "Well, I suppose that makes sense, but really, as they say in Iceland, andlit þitt hefur leiðinlegt útlit þurrum  dauðum fiski."

And what kind of a response will they have to that? Nothing! Unless of course they speak Icelandic, in which case they'll know you just told them they look like a dry dead fish, but then you might have made a new friend with whom you can practice your Icelandic!

Also, if you travel, in my experience most people are really really excited if you try to speak to them in their language. They'll help you with your pronunciation, they'll helpfully point out better ways to construct your sentence, and they'll gleefully teach you to swear. I can almost guarantee you that it will help you make friends.

Not to mention if you and a friend both speak the language, you can sit in public and talk about people while they're right there, and they won't know you're doing it! Just make sure they person you're talking about doesn't also speak the language, because that could get awkward real fast. And then you'll have to break out your joke skills.

So even if it's just the basics of a language- where's the toilet, hi my name is _____, holy shit a monkey stole my passport, etc. It's totally worth it.

3. Throw a Punch

This one is very important, and I must add a qualifier- I am not advocating you know how to beat the shit out of someone, nor am I advocating you go out and start doing just that.

However, there is a possibility that, in your life, you will run into a situation in which you think to yourself "Damn, I wish I knew how to punch people, because this person just fucking NEEDS to get whacked in the kisser."
please note that here I am assuming you think like a 1940's gangster.
4. Swim

Because by the time you are a grown-ass adult, you should not be in a situation in which you think "Well shit, if only I had learned to swim, something toddlers are capable of doing, I would not currently be drowning."
Brad will not be impressed.
A caveat to this that I find perfectly acceptable if you are at the beach, and there is a really hot lifeguard who fills out their red bathing suit juuuuuust right who happens to be on duty, and you pretend you do not know how to swim. Because that right there is how true love happens.
mmmm-hmm. you run with that floaty thing. I'll just be over here filming you so I watch it in slow motion later.

5. Tip People

This comes from having been a waitress/in the food service industry for 5+ years in high school and partially during college. Some people cannot tip to save their lives, and it drives me INSANE.

Here's the deal: if you're thinking to yourself "Golly gee whillikers, I can't afford to tip this waitperson!" then you shouldn't fucking well be eating out!
and I will find you.

It's that simple. Servers are often paid below federal minimum wage, because the cheap-ass place they work is assuming that your (the patron's) tips are going to make up for what they're not earning by the hour. If you're a dirtbag and don't tip well, they aren't going to be able to make up that difference.

Now, I get that sometimes servers suck. That's fine, don't tip them as well. But here's the thing: 10% of the bill is a shitty tip. 20% is good service, good food, friendly people, all that jazz. 15% is somewhere in the middle. No tip at all is you basically going up to your server, looking them dead in the eye, and saying "I hate you. And your face. And your hair. And also you're adopted. Plus I banged your mom."

Everybody got it? Great.

6. Argue

Now before you go off all willy-nilly and start shouting angrily at people left and right, let me explain what I mean.

In life, there are going to be squillions of people who have opinions you are going to disagree with, some more so than others.

And here's what I think: IT IS OK TO ARGUE WITH THESE PEOPLE. But you have to know how to do it nicely. Or at least, without it escalating into a screaming match and insult competition.

It's always good to be able to state what you believe in, and to let people know that there are other world views out there they don't necessarily know about. But it's also important to do it without being an asshole.

Arguing can be instructional for everyone involved, and it's perfectly acceptable to have differing opinions. But you should be allowed to defend what you believe without having to resort to physical violence or spitting. Or whatever.
that's why llamas spit, you know. because they're terrible arguers.
7. Tie a Knot

Because you never know when you're going to kidnap someone and have to tie them up.

But seriously, you might have to tie a canoe to your car, or tie a tie (in this instance, that counts as a knot) or improvise a shoelace, or retrieve a friend from the deep well they've fallen down.
if only Lassie had read this list. and also had opposable thumbs.

8. Use Proper Grammar in a Written Sentence

For example, it drives me batshit insane when people use the improper forms of "they're" and "their." 

If English is your first language, and you are not a troll that lives under a bridge eating cats, you should not be fucking this up on a regular basis. No one will want to hire you ever. No one will want to be your friend. People will point and laugh at you on street corners.

It's all true.

9. Make a Grilled Cheese Sandwich

Now, I was going to put that as "make a basic meal" which is actually pretty common on lists of things you should know how to do, but I decided that was too complex. Plus, what if you're a really terrible cook, and you just can't even make pasta?
also, I pity you, because pasta is delicious.

So instead I picked one of America's most awesome contributions to food
along with the deep-fried Twinkie. you're welcome, world.
and decided everyone should know how to make it.

Because it is deliciuos, versatile, and ridiculously easy.

Plus, even if you burn it a bit, you can just scrape off the burned part of the bread, and eat it anyway. Problem solved. And if you add tomatoes or some shit like that, it's basically all the food groups in one scrumptious sandwich.
*imaginary editor's note* please note it is ill-advised to take dietary advice from Marshall, as she considers cheese to be one of the food groups.
10. Smile

Ok, so this one's a bit cheesy. 
mmmm, cheese...
Whoops, sorry, got distracted.

Anyway, as I was saying, I know this one's pretty cliched. And I'm not telling you, dear imaginary friends, that you should always be smiling, or to smile through the pain, or to grin and bear it, or to smile 'cause it makes your face prettier.

What I'm saying is that sometimes, a smile directed at a stranger can make their day.

Smiling at a friend can give them a case of the warm fuzzies that maybe they really needed today.

And smiling is scientifically proven to make you feel better.

11. Scale a Fence

Because sometimes shit gets real, and you've gotta get over that fence. Like pronto.

12. Sing Along to Some Awesome Song

I'm not saying you have to be a fantastic singer. I'm not saying you need to know the difference between a treble clef and a bass clef. I'm not even saying you need to know how to find a pitch with both hands and a map.

I just think everyone should possess the ability to hear a song they adore, and be able to sing along.

If you're not a sing-along type of person, and you're seriously doubting me right now, just try it.

One of those times you're driving in your car by yourself, pick a song you cannot help but love, and belt along with the chorus. It will make your fucking day.

So that's all for today's post, friends. 12 things I, in my oh-so-unqualified opinion, think everyone should know how to do.

What do you think, did I miss any?

Tuesday, April 10, 2012


Hello there imaginary friends! It's been a while, hasn't it?
I'm sorry! Would you believe me if I said I've been super busy? Probably not, since it's been about 5 months. Well, have no fear. I'm back!
And I missed y'all.
I missed you so much that I have here a picture of a sad puppy. Just for you.
And it's springtime! I don't know about where y'all live, but springtime in the Pacific Northwest is just fabulous. The grass gets brilliantly green. Flowers of all colors and sizes pop up out of the ground. And oh my goodness, the cherry trees bloom. (Pretty sure they're cherry trees. Cherry blossom trees? I dunno. They're gorgeous, anyway.)
these suckers. also, they smell fantastic.
Love is in the air! Or, you know. For some people it is.
I'm so alone...
Ha, just kidding! I have friends, really! I promise, guys. Seriously. I'm so serious right now. Are... are you laughing? Stop that! I said I have friends! They're real! Shuttup! They are! You just... you just shut your dirty mouth!

Sooooooooo, anyway.

What have I been up to lately, I hear no one asking? Well! I shall tell you. How kind of you to ask.

The past few months have actually been somewhat of a whirlwind of change for me. As many of you may know, I have been going to university at Western Washington, here in Bellingham. Well, starting last quarter (January to mid-March) I switched, and went to Skagit Valley College. There, I recieved my oh-so-awesome EMT certification. Yes, it's true! I am now a certified Washington state Emergency Medical Technician.
Now let me just lay something out for y'all real quick-like here: I have always always always been interested in medicine. For just about as long as I can remember, anyway. And initially, when I was just a young whippersnapper starting out my college career, I thought I wanted to go to medical school.

Turns out I didn't want to do that. Mostly because I wasn't sure I wanted to spend 10+ years in school, end up with piles of debt, and then OHGODWHATIFIDIDN'TLIKEIT


So I had a chat with the parental units, and I told them I really wanted to go to nursing school. And here's the thing, imaginary friends: I really do. I want to help people, and I want to travel, and I want to do awesome things like stick catheters up people's junk. And nursing is good for all of those things!
were you aware that catheters are about this big around, diameter-wise? yeah, betcha didn't know that, did ya? ouch.
And now I am trying to finish up my nursing prerequisites, and then I have to figure out where to actually attend nursing school. It's all pretty exciting. It's a brand-new chapter in my life, and for the first time since I was in my first quarter of college freshman year (which, holy shit, was almost three years ago) I feel like I know where I'm going, and where I want to end up. Which is a pretty damn good feeling, all things considered.

So that pretty much brings you up to date on my life, IFs. There's been some laughter, some tears, and a whole bunch of different hair colors since last we spoke.
rainbow hair there in the middle is me. and the kid playing with my rainbow hair is my cousin David. he thought it was pretty nifty.
Ooh! For the first time since I've lived in Bellingham, I'm actually going to be spending a summer here, which I'm super excited about. I hear all sorts of great things about summertime over here in Bham, and I finally get to experience it for myself. Farmer's markets, bitchin' folk music festivals, sunshine, and the works. I can't wait.

Although, rather unfortunately, my lease for my current apartment runs out at the end of July, and I have yet to find a new place to live. More fortunately, however, I got a tent for my birthday, so I'll just become a hobo and live in the woods for the remainder of the summer.

So what's new with you, my friends?

Thursday, November 17, 2011

My House is Cold as Shit

If you noticed the title of this post, you might assume that this entry will be me whining about how cold my house is.

Seeing as how we've already been there, because I whined about how cold my apartment was last year, I won't do that to y'all agian. That would just be cruel and unusual punishment.

Or probably just cruel punishment. Not really all that unusual.

Instead, I'm going to tell you what I want for Christmas!
Because Christmas is awesome, basically. And also because I don't want to study, I don't want to!

It's Dead Week here at WWU, and that means everybody wants to die. It also means I get to go home in like 8 days, which is super exciting, but also means that finals are next week, which makes me want to die.

I hate finals. Actually, I hate tests in general. Yuck.

So, in the spirit of procrastination and Christmas, I present you with my letter to Santa.

Dear Santa,

I know you're a pretty busy guy, and I realize this letter is probably even a little late. Sorry about that. Normally I'm way more prompt with this kind of thing, but I've been a little stressed lately. You see, I've got papers due, and bills to pay, and I had to spend forever and a day in the municipal court trying to pay my speeding ticket, and finals are coming up, and I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life and I think I'm out of clean socks...


So, here's what I want for Christmas.

1. World Peace

That's it.


Just kidding. I mean, that'd be nice. But last time I checked, they didn't make that in Santa's workshop. Er. Your workshop.


1. A gift card to Target. Because Target is the shit. I buy pretty much all my clothes there, and also I can get groceries there. Also, I really like the boots they have. I love boots.

2. Boots.

3. Doc Martens. With flowers. Like this.
because we hipsters have claimed doc martens for ourselves. which the goths are pissy about.

4. Clothes. Because I am poor, and buy food instead.

5. Books.

6. Kindle books.

7. A trip to Europe. For 8 months or so.

8. A plane ticket to South Carolina, to see my sister.

Or if you wanted to save some of this for my birthday, that'd be cool too. It's only 4 days after Christmas, you know.


Well, my lovely imaginary friends, that's it until finals are over. I promise to write over break, though!

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Raspberries and Ice Princesses

Halloween is just around the corner, and do you know what that means?
candy! it means candy!
Sadly, no. It no longer means (free) candy for me, because society has deemed that, at 19, I am too old to go trick-or-treating. Stupid society.
If I went door-to-door asking for candy, I'd probably get either life-choice advice, seriously judged, or alcohol.
or possibly drunken, judgmental, alcohol-drenched advice. complete with more alcohol.
If you ask me (I realize you didn't) though, the college version of Halloween is seriously overrated. If you're a girl, it seems to mean that you dress up in the "sexy" version of something, put on teetering high heels, and giggle at boys.

none of these things are even remotely sexy. or clever. seriously, sexy Nemo? since when are fish sexy?
never, that's when.
This does not sound amusing or even remotely fun to me. Of course, this may have some link to my childhood.
doesn't everything?
When I was a kid, I had pretty much the weirdest ideas for Halloween costumes you've ever heard of. I honestly couldn't tell you where I got those ideas, except to remind you that I read a lot, and also talked to myself with frightening frequency. My most infamous costume to date is the Halloween I decided to be a raspberry.
yep. I know.

Yeah, that's right. I wanted to be an inanimate object, a piece of fruit. In day care that year, for show-and-tell one day, we acted out our Halloween costumes. Everyone else got up in front of the class and meowed, or barked, or at least acted shit out. I got up there, curled up into a ball on the floor, and didn't move for the next ten minutes while my classmates shouted increasingly desperate guesses like "A rock!" or "A pumpkin!" Strangely enough, nobody guessed raspberry.

The same year, my little sister was an ice princess. She found this beautiful white dress at the thrift store, dripping with lace and glitter. She had a crown, and a wand, and she might even have had matching white shoes.
I, on the other hand, got a pink sweat-suit from the thrift store, pulled my hair into a top-knot, and spraypainted it green. Like a stem. Bam, costume done.
I'll give you a hint. I looked nothing like this.
This was also a Hanksville Halloween.

For those not intimately familiar with the geography of the south-east corner of Utah, Hanksville is a very small town between Canyonlands National Park and Capitol Reef National Park. Because our family would often go on long camping trips down in that area in the dreary fall and winter months, there were a couple times when we were gone for Halloween.

And so it was that we discovered Hanksville. Hanksville is too small to have much of a trick-or-treating scene (Wikipedia estimates its population to be around 200 people), so instead the locals gather at a local gymnasium, parking vehicles in the parking lot. Inside the gym, there are lots of kid-friendly games, including costume contests, carnival style games, and the timeless classic of Throw-the-Shoe-at-the-Rat.
don't worry, it was this kind of rat. for some reason, the whole rubber rat phenomenon struck a chord with our family, and every year around Halloween our own front porch is graced with several large, possibly rabid rubber rats. I also received one of my very own from my father in the mail recently. thanks, Dad.
I remember there also being some sort of musical chairs type of game, in which it was possible to win entire pies (or they might have been cakes. this was a long time ago) The year I was a raspberry, I won two of them, and then they made me quit. Jerks.
must... have... more... PIE
It's also quite possible that there was a heavy Mormon influence, this being Southern Utah, but I honestly can't remember that. If the cake-pies said "Jesus is really cool and hey what about that Joseph Smith guy, he was pretty great too!" on them, that memory has escaped me.
something like this.
Once the supply of Jesus-pie in the gym was exhausted, or the bitches cut you off, there was the most redneck version of trick-or-treating I have yet had the pleasure of experiencing.

Out in the parking lot, everyone would flop down their tailgates, or pop open trunks, set up some lawn chairs, and then the kids would troupe from vehicle to vehicle, gathering candy. There was also probably country music playing loudly from more than one F-350.

One of the years we went (probably the first year) we were ill-prepared for such an adventure, and instead of handing out sweet, sweet sugar rushes wrapped in colorful packaging, we handed out granola bars.
I'm pretty sure it was these ones. man, those crumbs get fuckin' everywhere!
However, in the years to come we were more prepared, and brought real candy, instead of that fake hippy shit.

Later Lander trick-or-treating years consisted of a large group of friends. Our parents had all known each other since we were in diapers, which meant we'd all known each other for pretty much our whole lives. We'd all gather at the Milo-Kink's (that would be a hybridization of two last names, neither of which are spell-able) house, and there would be a kid's table and an adult's table. Having never in my life voluntarily sat at an "adult's table," I couldn't really tell you what went on over there, but our table (the better table) there were always Halloween-themed snacks, like smoking punch, ants on a log, and crackers shaped like fingers.
like this. mmm, fingers.
Then we'd all race upstairs to get ready, critically comparing each other's costumes. When we were all quite young, it would be the groups of dads who would accompany us from house to house, hanging back on the sidewalks as we all raced each other to the door, thrusting our treat bags into the faces of those at the doors.
just ignore the watermark... also, that kid in the front looks excited, but don't be fooled. he's really thinking "wow, all I get is that shitty sucker? definitely TP-ing this house. now who's the sucker, muthafucka?
Once we were older, our parents let us go out by ourselves. On any given Halloween, there were usually anywhere from 8-15 of us in one large pack. The safety-conscious dads would give us a perimeter that we had to stay in (from Garfield Street to the park, and not past 9th, or over the river). We might have broken that perimeter, but that's actually kind of a huge area, and your legs start get tired after a while, plus your candy bag gets heavier and heavier, and you start thinking about all those shiny, crinkly, brightly colored wrappers, filled with every manner of candy, from Reese's to Dots, and everything in between.
but Dots suck. seriously. nasty.
Once we finally returned to the house, bags triumphantly bursting at the seams with all our loot, we'd dash upstairs to the common room at the back of the house. Each kid would claim an area of the floor, and upend their bag, sending candy tumbling across the carpet. Then, the trading would commence.

There's always candy somebody likes, that somebody else doesn't. So, you trade. It would get pretty heated, let me tell you.

Finally, the parents would tell us it was time to go, and you'd get to lug your bag of primo, optimum loot home, clutched tightly to your chest so your mom wouldn't steal all of your Reese's.
because seriously, this shit is like crack to my mother.
But in my life, I have been: a black cat. A death-fairy. A blue satin ghost with a long black wig (possibly the ghost of Cher?) Some other really random, strangely disturbing things that popped into my weird little brain.

This year, I think I'll be a My Little Pony.
because I'm awesome.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011


Hullo, my imaginary friends.
this is sort of how I picture our relationship. but with cookies instead of pasta.

Long time no… see? Or something.

As you may or may not know, I have been on top of an active volcano for the entirety of my summer, shuffling tourons (tourist-morons) around a large dining room in a larger old inn for money.
thankfully, not quite this active.

Or, if you prefer, I have been acting as a hostess at Paradise Inn in Mt. Rainier National Park in southern Washington.
it is pretty fantastically beautiful up there, when the sun is out.
Either way, it translates to absolutely no internet (or at least very, very little, very pitiful internet), which in turn translates to no blog posts.

Also I am lazy.

But autumn is fast approaching us, which means all sorts of exciting things. If you cannot think of what exciting things those might be- never fear! I have prepared you a list of the things. Here ‘tis:

1.     Autumn means school will be starting soon. Whilst I am not terribly over-excited to jump back into the world of collegiate academia, I am very excited for these things, presented in a sub-list:
a.     Seeing all of my friends again
b.     Rugby starting up once more
because let's face it, who wouldn't be excited?
c.      Ok, I’m actually excited about a few classes
d.     But mostly, buying new SCHOOL SUPPLIES
yes. this excited.
Let’s take just a moment to talk about school supplies. When I was a child, being tragically homeschooled, we did not really have the traditional back-to-school shopping frenzy I now know is rather a part of the public school phenomenon. 

So when I was introduced to said activity the first year I actually attended public school full-time, I had a field day. I was quick to discover that I fucking LOVE buying school supplies. 
 also this.

Crayons, all arranged perfectly by color, tips sharp and shiny in their box. Markers, caps neatly un-cracked, spongy tips not yet tainted by other colors. Colored pencils, pointy ends sharp enough to stake a vampire. Pens in all shapes, sizes, and colors, their metallic ends going from normal to super-ultra-Kate Moss fine 
and in this case by "Kate Moss fine" I mean super ridiculously holy-shit-eat-a-goddamn-cheeseburger skinny.

(also, gel pens. I remember gel pens being, for some reason, extraordinarily popular).
 I also remember them being absolutely shit pens that worked for all of about 2 seconds, then totally crapping out on you and refusing to write no matter how much you shook them. then, days later, they'd combust in a deluge of glittery rainbow color like somebody shanked a My Little Pony.

Spiral-bound notebooks, pages pristine and crisply white, wire un-bent, covers brightly colored with everything from limpid-eyed lurid Lisa Frank unicorns to shiny photos of whatever pop star was uber popular in 2005 (I was a bit out of the loop then -see: homeschooled-, so I have no idea who that might have been. Britney Spears? The Spice Girls? Al Green?)
oh yeah. it was definitely Al Green.

So yeah. Now I get to do that all by myself, with no mother hanging over my shoulder to sigh dramatically and mutter under her breath about how an almost 20-year-old college student really does not need the pack of 1,324,567 Crayola crayons.
 yes I bloody well do! just lookit them all... mmmm, crayons...

It’s a magical experience. If you are no longer a student, I would recommend you frequent your local Wal-Mart sometime this season (but before it gets too picked-over, so you won’t have any trouble procuring your very own Justin Bieber 2011-2012 planner,

and also in the middle of the night so you can hide your shameful purchases from everyone but the freakish people that are Wal-Mart’s graveyard shift people.
Also so you don’t have to judo-chop some 3rd grader for your Justin Bieber planner. 3rd graders are very rarely in Wal-Mart at 2:30am) and pick out some school supplies. Go ahead. Smell those new notebooks. Give the pencils a whiff. Run your fingertips over all the 3 ring binders. I can pretty much guarantee it’ll be awesome. Also that you’ll end up spending wayyy more money than you initially intended.

2.     Autumn means I get to wear long pants once more, hiding my ghostly pale legs from the angry, angry sun. Also I don’t have to shave any more. My legs, that is. My face I still shave, since everyone knows you don’t grow a beard until November at least. I’m joking. I would never grow a beard. I haven’t the jaw structure.

unlike this fabulous gentlewoman here.

3.     Autumn means crisply brisk winds whisking in off the bay, bringing with them the enchanting smell of the sea and nautical adventures.
note to self: next time put safesearch on when you google "nautical adventure"

4.     Autumn means the leaves changing colors, washing the verdant streets of Bellingham with deep, rich yellows, browns, reds, and oranges.

5.     Autumn means Halloween, which I have always adored. Though it’s a… slightly different experience now as a college student than it was when I was a kid, it’s still fantastic. It’s when you get to dress up as freaky as you want, go anywhere you want dressed like that, and people will compliment you on your fucking custom-molded vampire fangs!
 because this is the kind of person that wears custom-molded vampire fangs on the days that are not October 31st.

Also, free candy. Need I say more?
which everyone knows that, despite possibly dubious origins, is the BEST kind of candy.

6.     Autumn means at least 4 or 5 public showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which means you get to wear fishnets, stripper heels, and drag queen makeup in public and rub elbows with actual drag queens while shouting very rude, suggestive things at the movie screen and throwing things like rice and toast. You might also get an unexpected lap dance from a man in a gold loincloth and blonde wig dressed as Rocky.
and really, what more could a girl ask for than Tim Curry in stockings and 5 inch heels?

7.     Autumn means cute hipster boys on fixed-gear bikes peddling about with copious tattoos, way too many layered scarves, and unnecessary old-man glasses, scribbling slightly emo poetry in privately owned coffee shops, and blushing when you wink at them.


8.     Autumn means I can quit my job (hooray!) (more on that later)

it'll probably too much information. but that's ok.

9.     Autumn means that Thanksgiving is right around the turkey, so close you can almost smell the turkey and taste the prolonged contact with extended family.
mmm, the only country that is on 2 continents... 
wait what?

10. Autumn means that winter is coming.
I love winter. seriously. so much.

So those are all the reasons I love autumn. I do believe it’s my favorite season. What’s yours, my loverlies?