Social Media Has Changed My Life

“The world is so empty if one thinks only of mountains, rivers & cities; but to know someone who thinks & feels with us, & who, though distant, is close to us in spirit, this makes the earth for us an inhabited garden.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Life in 2013 is different.  Growing up as a kid in the 70's and 80's, we watched television shows about people having madcap adventures together and they were often a reflection of "real life."  Families REALLY DID eat dinner together.  Neighbors REALLY DID stop by for coffee. Our parents gathered with other parents or family on the weekends and they worked on cars together, played board games and stayed late, often putting us kids in pajamas before the ride home.  Depending on where we lived, I was able to walk to school, waving to school buses as they passed me by and saying hello to the crossing guard stationed at one end of the elementary school.  The librarian at the local library in one of the towns where we lived knew me by name.  Life was lived at a snail's pace and, even though we were dressed funny, we were a part of real community.

Now, I'm a part of the Facebook World.  Even though I don't know my neighbors, I communicate regularly with friends from way back in high school via computer.

It's kinda funny because even though MOST of the people I'm "friends" with on FB were once a very real part of my orbit, every now and again I've accepted a friend request from someone who knows someone I know or who was a member of a group (for example, someone who attended my high school) and was never a real friend of mine but only a vague acquaintance.  I see their posts regularly and sometimes feel like I'm getting to know them.  I have to pull back and remind myself that I have NO IDEA who this person is!

I get attached to people this way.  I am moved when they update their status with the information about a sick child or an injured spouse.  "Oh NO!" I think to myself.  "Little Johnny has a BROKEN ARM?  I wonder which hand he writes with?" I start to think maybe I should send a note and realize that I knew this person VAGUELY about 20 years ago and that they would wonder why in the hell I am stalking them on FB.

I start to worry about people when they begin to post dramatic status updates like "Loving you was so wrong...but I never want to be right."  Hmm, is Alfredo not happy with his current girlfriend?  Did she leave him?  Did he leave her?  I wonder if he's OK.  Maybe I should send him a note...

I check my feeds every morning and then leave FB open during the day at work.  I'm always so PLEASED when I see a little number next to the FB icon.  I see (2) Facebook on the tab and get giddy!  Ooh!  A starred friend has posted a status update or someone has commented or, even better, "liked" a post!  FB is connected to my iPhone, so I also get notifications filling up my screen with comments and status updates galore.

When my kids are with their dad for the weekend, I sometimes spend entire weekends alone in my jammies watching old episodes of The Gilmore Girls (I have started writing a post about THAT part of my life, never fear), drinking wine with my computer opened up to FB and one ear open for the pinging sounds that say something new is out there for me to pay attention to.  I avoid invitations to dinner and don't answer my phone, but I pay attention to the World According to Facebook. 

Obviously, I have an illness.  I have a Facebook addiction.  And because I'm an ass-kicker, I'm going to kick the addiction to the curb.  I so enjoy the witty comments of my friends (both real and imagined) and I really do laugh and smile when I read updates and post comments...but this has simply gone too far.  I depend on social media far too much.

So, I think it's time for a personal intervention.  I'm going to conduct a non-social social experiment.  For the remainder of May, I'm going to access FB only once per week.

Holy crap.

Can I do that?  Once per week?  I'm panicking a little bit thinking about it. What will I do without the funny, sarcastic updates?  What on EARTH will I DO?  HOW WILL I FEEL CONNECTED?

That's the point, though, isn't it?  I'm falsely connected.  Instead of being out there in the world, I'm on the couch in my jammies.  It's time for a radical shift in my thinking and in my behavior.  Social media has changed my life and, while I FEEL closer to people, I'm not ACTUALLY closer.

I'm going out into the world.  Maybe make a new friend or two.  Or connect (in REALITY) with friends I already know.  Time to begin a new class or spend time doing some of the many REAL fun things I enjoy.

The Great Non-Social Social Experiment begins today.

Goodbye, Facebook.  Hello, World!

Cue panic.

If you'd like to contact me during my hiatus, you can give me a call.  Seriously.  Call me.  I'm rejoining the world.  The rest of my life starts today.

Or does it?

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North Vs. South

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
― C.S. Lewis

I have an amazing friend we'll call Northern Nancy. I met her many, many moons ago when I had the great misfortune to live in the Northeast.  (OK, no offense to the northeast intended but I was honestly so miserable living there..I would walk into work each day and say "WHY do you people LIVE HERE?")  Northern women are very, very different from Southern women.   My Northern Nancy is one of my very best friends ever AND the very best part about her is that I always know where I stand with her.  If I'm an idiot, she tells me I'm an idiot.  If I need to come in out of the rain, she either hands me an umbrella (she's practical like that) or she tells me to get my ass in out of the rain.  (In those exact words.)

Northern Nancy and I have had a great many Great Adventures over the years and our lives often follow eerily similar paths.  We even once dressed as McDonald's french fries and a McDonald's shake for Halloween.  We are THAT connected that we would totally be fast food together. We accidentally ended up at Niagara Falls once after a madcap adventure that included running out of gas on the side of a highway, being confronted by a very weird dude who came out of the woods, a speeding ticket and an incident of ash burning my thigh (I thought it was the sun).  We both have On-Again-Off-Again issues and we both are unbelievably talented professionals who are sadly unappreciated.  We have regular gripe-fests about various issues but TONIGHT I won the biggest loser contest.  I rock.  I am a FAR bigger loser than she is tonight although I'm sure she'll take her turn later.

I love Northern Nancy.  (She'll hate that because she's more private than most nuns.)

Here are the best parts about having a close Northern friend:

1. If you look like crap, she'll tell you.  There are no mincing words.  She once took me shopping so that I would look "put together" because she was convinced that Omar The Tent Maker was my tailor.  She'll say "What is THAT giddy-up you've got on?  You need to try again."
2. You know that everything she says to your face is the exact same thing she'll say behind your back.  Northern friends are very honest.   To you.  And to others.
3. She always has your back.  If someone is talking trash about you, she won't join in.  She will tell them to mind their own business and then she'll tell you that they were talking trash.
4. She'll bring you into her inner circle.  Once you have a really good Northern friend, you are friends for life.  She'll introduce you to her family and her best friends.  And you'll FEEL like you've always been a part of her life.  She's awesome like that.
5. If she has a problem with you, she'll tell you.  If I'm being a jerk, she'll say "What crawled up your ass and died today?" (or something like that).  If I'm not talking to her, she'll say "I know something's wrong because you're hiding." 
6. She's always fun to talk to.  EVEN when you're both having a totally crappy day/week/life, she'll always find the side that's FUNNY.  You'll end every conversation feeling WAY better than when you started.
7. She would do anything for you.  I KNOW for a fact that if I really needed her, she would be here.  If I said to her, "I need you...please get here any way you can" then she would set about doing that very thing as soon as possible.She's kind of amazing that way.

 I don't have many close friends.  I am far more guarded about my friend-heart than you might imagine.  But I love some Northern Nancy.  I firmly believe that we create our own families in life...and even though I'm a FAR bigger loser than she is today...Northern Nancy rocks.

But I rule.  The South wins today, baby!

How to be the mom of boys

 “I didn't answer, but, please—nothing is obvious with boys. For such simple creatures, they are quite baffling.”
― Rick Riordan

My house is a busy, Minecraft-obsessed haven for boys.  There are dirty socks hiding in the crevices of the leather sofa (it's leather because, well, I have BOYS) and there are various shapes and sizes of balls in each and every room of the house.  There are robots in closets and various strange trading cards tucked into books, drawers and bags.  We have nothing in pink and no frills on any surface or object.  As a matter of fact, most objects that "just sit around" have been removed for safety purposes.

Mother's Day is coming up.  As a single mom, I won't be receiving gifts or really any appreciation at all unless Thing 2 is forced to create cards or a handmade pottery bowl at school.  That's totally OK with me because I typically use the day to appreciate THEM and all of the chaos they've brought into my life. 

Raising boys is a tough job.  It's so important to me that I instill in them strong values and help them mold their characters into men who will contribute to society, be kind to their partners and, most important, love their mother with all their manly hearts.  I attempt (sometimes in vain) to shield them from images of violence on television and in video games and I work very hard to provide role models for them, not the least of whom are their very own father and grandfathers. 

I don't get the soul-searching conversations you might have with a girl-child.  During our dinner  conversations, I feel successful if no one has mentioned farting by the time dessert is on the table.  If I ask them about their days, I get a grunt or possibly an "it was good" comment.  No one comes to me pouring out their hearts about friendships or girls they're interested in but I know they HAVE started taking more regular showers and Thing 2 has actually been applying product to his hair so I figure that interest is on the horizon.

Bruises and scrapes are commonplace.  Thing 1 isn't terribly interested in sports but is fascinated with chasing his brother through the house with some sort of make-believe taser he picked up on an outing with his grandmother.  Nerf guns are a part of life and you could get tagged walking past a doorway at any given time.  Thing 2 is constantly moving, jumping, twisting, falling and twitching.  He hurls his body through space and time in ways that are unfathomable to even a former tomboy like myself.

Movies about relationships or, like Netflix recommends for me, a "strong female lead character" are considered the ultimate bore-fest.  Science fiction is the way to make friends in my house.  Or a mild action flick with plenty of blow-'em-up scenes.  Cartoons are always preferred over any teen-angst-drama.

As parents, our responsibility is enormous.  We have to teach them to be strong but gentle.  We have to guide them in developing an ability to communicate their feelings without appearing weak.  We must help them retain their natural spirit of adventure while instilling a sense of caution.  We need to raise them to be men who will someday be worthy to partner with the beautiful and amazing creatures our friends are raising in tandem.

So, is there an easy guide to get this done?  There should be.  I have few tips gleaned from my years of experience and from people who know boys best--MEN.

1. Don't talk too much.  Boys stop hearing anything after the first five words so pick your sentences carefully.  "Gather ALL your socks NOW, please."  "Get in the car, please."  "Stop torturing your brother, please."  Note how "please" is INCLUDED but not the first word.  If you say "please" first, you are wasting valuable head space.
2. The television MUST be off when addressing them.  Boys can't process two verbal signals at once.  They need to have only one input if you're going to have a chance to be heard.
3. Some boys don't hug.  Some boys need space.  If that's the case, give it to them.  Do NOT force them to hug your crazy Aunt Matilda with all the cat hair coating her bosom.  Believe me when I say that hugs from boys who DON'T hug are like gold.  
4. Boys need rules.  They need consistent rules that aren't ridiculously confining.  But they need a structure to follow.  Homework comes before computer time.  Cleaning your room comes after trampoline time (because, honestly, they NEED to get that energy out first!).  
5. All boys are not the same.  
6. All boys are not the same.  
7. All boys are not the same. OK, I repeated that three times because I have to make very different adjustments for each of my boys.  They are similar just because they're boys and they come from the same genetic hodge-podge.  But they're very different because they're PEOPLE.  They each need to be parented very differently.  That's a hit-or-miss game that I play every single day.

My boys slay me.  They are funny, wild creatures who I stare at in amazement.  As an opposite-gender parent, I have an appreciation for the many things that make them completely different from me.  I am so grateful to have the opportunity to nurture them into adulthood and I can only hope that one day they'll look back on their time with me and understand that I did the best I could to raise them into the fine men they will (hopefully) become.

Thing 1 and Thing 2, I am so very glad I get to be your mom.

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Death Wish or Avoidance? You pick!

“I love running. I’m not into marathons, but I am into avoiding problems at an accelerated rate.
”
― Jarod Kintz

The end is near.

Nope, I'm not talking about the world.  I'm talking about me.  I have developed some sort of...abnormality...on my face.  And it's GROWING.  I think it's going to sprout legs at any moment and walk off my face like a toddler.

My face has a new growth.  It's disgusting.

It's huge.  And it's nasty.  And it's NEW.  I'm like a mutant creature growing some sort of biological-warfare-wanna-be on my FACE. 

But I'm not going to the doctor.

• He told me to stay away from the sun.  As in, the sun will KILL me like a ninja warrior kind of stay away from the sun.  I just don't want him to look at me all sad and disappointed like a father whose daughter stayed out all night with the local farmhand.  And I just got that horrible sunburn.  And my freckles are standing out right now in technicolor so he'll KNOW about the sunburn.  I am SO EMBARRASSED.  And obviously not a good listener.
• What if he has to SCRAPE it OFF?  That might hurt.  And suck.  And then I'll have a big bandage on my face and I'll have to tell people I got into a knife fight to avoid saying something about how my face apparently is growing mutant toddlers.
•  I will take my chances with this weirdness.  It will go away.  Or it will grow and I'll have a conversation piece as people I meet awkwardly try to keep their gaze on my eyes instead of on the weird growth on my face.

You see it, right?  It's right there by my ear.  I looked at it last night in the magnifying side of my make-up mirror.  That's another thing altogether.  My skin in a magnified make-up mirror looks like it's about 800 years old and something Neil Armstrong would recognize from his stroll on the moon. Holy crap.

You're right.  Let's just not think about it and hope that it will go away.  

If you like my blog, share it.  Or Like my FB page to get updates.  Or subscribe to the e-mail list.  Or make a comment below.  If you don't like it, well...just try not to hurt my feelings.  I'm sensitive.  

Controlling the World Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be

“The best way to navigate through life is to give up all of our controls.”
― Gerald G. Jampolsky

I'm kind of a control freak.  I'm not a control freak in the traditional sense.  I don't obsess about cleanliness and I don't really care if my schedule changes at the last minute and plans are basically a loose guideline as far as I'm concerned.  But, boy, I REALLY want people to DO WHAT I WANT THEM TO DO.  

This past school year, I have participated in a Free Your Mind And Lose Control exercise.  It's been wildly successful.  The program went something like this:

• Thing 2 had a three-day field trip to Washington, D.C.
• Since I went with Thing 1 on HIS three-day field trip a couple of years ago, I thought it would be nice if My Ex-Husband took Thing 2 this year.
• Thing 2, since he's exceptionally diplomatic, didn't want his dad to feel "left out" and so agreed that his father should "get to go" on the extended field trip.  (Oh, the gloriously delicious GLEE I felt when this decision was made because I have STORIES about the DC field trip.  Another time, perhaps?)
• Typically, I manage all forms and communication with teachers.
• For this ONE thing, I decided to LET IT GO.  A three-day field trip and all of its meetings and forms and deadlines and schedules is a lot to manage.  And here, I would have just been the middle-man, passing along information to the ultimately responsible party.  So, I decided that I would not handle ONE SINGLE THING for this field trip and I just gave it, as a package deal, to my Ex-Husband.
• Panic ensued.  

Oh, don't for one second think that the Ex-Husband was in a panic state about this.  He's like a magical being when it comes to Things Working Out.  Seriously, he lives this amazingly charmed life (that, if I'm being honest, I am TERRIBLY envious of!).  Stuff just always works out for this guy.

Side story:  We both waited tables at the same restaurant in college.  Actually, he ended up getting the job to begin with because he drove me to the restaurant to apply and while he was just STANDING there, the manager looked over at him and said, "Hey, are you looking for work?"  He kinda shrugged and ended up walking out with a job.  Many months went by and, one day, he decided that he didn't really FEEL like going in for his shift...ever again.  So, he called (mind you, a mere 30 minutes prior to the beginning of a shift) and said "Yeah, I'm not really coming in to work tonight.  Or ever, really."  I think they practically apologized to him for the inconvenience and, several weeks later, needed some help on a shift.  I was there slaving away (probably on a double because I was nothing if not an extremely poor collegiate martyr) and they asked "Hey, do you think HE might like to come in for a shift?"  I paused and looked at the manager, mouth agape.  "SERIOUSLY?  He QUIT.  With NO NOTICE.  And you want him to COME IN FOR A SHIFT?  Shouldn't you HATE him?"  But they didn't.  They still loved him.  Because he's MAGIC.  

OK, back to the control thing.

So, I didn't sign a single form for this field trip and I didn't attend a single meeting.  I don't even KNOW if the Ex-Husband attended any meetings about the field trip. I literally had NO CLUE what was going on.  They even changed the DATES and I didn't realize it for MONTHS.

But it was the healthiest thing I've ever done.  For me.  AND for the Ex-Husband.  He is not an idiot.  As a matter of fact, he is FAR more intelligent than I am.  He is completely capable of handling things on his own.  But because I have control issues (over people), I really always handled everything to do with school, with doctors, and with the kids in general.  I have now realized, though, that he NEEDS to handle some of this stuff in order to be fully engaged as a father. 

Once again, it's NOT ALL ABOUT ME.

The field trip worked out just fine.  Even though they had MY name on the chaperone list up until the day before the trip (why on EARTH?), he showed up and he is currently doing his duty in D.C. with his son.  I think they're having a fine time from the text updates I've received.  It all worked out. Naturally.  With no help from me.  I simply don't need to control the world.

I've relaxed about a lot of things lately.  Thing 1 is fully responsible for his school work.  It's HIS life, not mine.  If he wants to screw around and not turn in his homework...well, that's not MY FAULT.  He suffers the consequences of his behavior (no technology! the horror!) because I'm NOT going keep reminding him to turn in his work.  I'm not going to stress out about his grades because it's HIS life and he will ultimately need to step up...or step off...because he is the one who will be raking in minimum wage dollars at the local slop shop if he doesn't do the work.  Same goes with Thing 2.  I've been through school.  I don't need to re-live it.  REALLY.  I DO NOT need to re-live it.

I'm learning to let go.  I can't control the people around me.  And they don't need controlling.  Who am I to tell anyone how to live a life?  Life...just happens.   

Maybe I'll relax a little tonight with an adult beverage.  After all, I'm not a chaperone...

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Facing Fear

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear but the triumph over it."
                                             --Nelson Mandela

Honesty time.  (I'll bet you're scared NOW, aren't you?  You're wondering, "OMG, NOW she's going to be honest?  What has she been up to THIS point? What ridiculous nonsense is she about to spew?")   

 I am sometimes afraid of stuff.

I know.  It's hard to believe.  I live courageously and, some would say, recklessly.  I throw caution to the wind and live with abandon in much of my life.  But I'm afraid sometimes.  I don't let it stop me.  But I do let it scare me.

I decided to make a list of things that scare me to see if they can be overcome.

Thing 2 is afraid of shopping with me.  For very good reason.

1. I'm afraid of not being liked.  It's true.  I want everyone to like me.  I don't always BEHAVE like I want everyone to like me because I want them (you) to like me...warts and all.  I want it to NOT MATTER how I behave.  I want you to like me anyway.  Even if I don't like YOU all that much, I STILL want YOU to like ME.
2. I'm afraid of being alone.  That's a big giant statement.  I'm afraid that, when I die, there will be no one there to hold my hand.
3. I'm afraid of being insignificant.  You know how people tend to look at the homeless?  As if they're not there?  I'm afraid of being someone that people look through/past/beyond.
4. I'm afraid of the dark.  Often, at night, my imagination gets the best of me and shadows become the essence of my fear.  I'm jumpy in the dark.
5. I'm afraid of myself.  I know that I'm my own worst critic and enemy (as most of us are).  I worry that I'm far too harsh with myself.
6. I'm afraid I'm going to screw up my kids so badly they will never be self-sufficient people. This is also known as the Greatest Fear of All.  You've heard of the Greatest LOVE of All, right?  Well, this tops it.   

I look at the above list and I realize that my fears are not unlike the fears of most people.  And I realize something else:  most people are afraid to breathe these fears out loud!  Why IS that?  I wonder if we could all communicate openly then these fears might go away for ALL of us?  If we could just look fear in the face and say, "You know what?  I'm scared.  I don't WANT to be alone and I want you to like me...to LOVE me...in spite of all the oogie stuff that's in my corners."

But here's the thing:  fear is just...fear.  It's not real.  It doesn't have to determine our actions.  It's OK to look fear in the face and say "I'm not going to let your presence determine my actions.  It's OK that I'm scared.  And all of these things that I'm afraid of MAY come true.  But I'm going to live the best way I know how and keep on plugging.  I will not allow fear to stop me." 

In the spirit of embracing truth, this what I say to my fears:

• Everyone is NOT going to like me.  No matter what I say or do, I'm just going to piss some people off.  I am not everyone's cup of tea.  And that's OK.
• I may end up alone.  I have to realize that it's a huge possibility that I really am going to end up alone.  I may end up a hermit, eating cat food and cackling aloud at strange jokes I tell myself.  And that's OK.  
• Most of the time, I'm going to be insignificant.  Everyone plays out their own story and the ONLY story in which I play a starring role is my OWN STORY.  I am an insignificant bit player in the stories of friends and family.  And that's OK.  It doesn't have to be all about me.
• The dark will not swallow me.  It doesn't matter how many imaginary (and sometimes real) monsters populate the dark.  It's OK to be scared of it.  
• I am going to be mean to myself sometimes.  I am going to rant and rail about choices I make.  I'm never going to be able to rein in ALL that negative self-talk.  But I can work every day to make better choices and be kinder to myself.  
• My kids are OK.  I cannot be a perfect parent.  And regardless, in the end, even if I make every mistake in the book, their choices are their own.  I am ultimately NOT RESPONSIBLE for the choices my kids make after I have done the best I could as a parent. 

 Today, I stand facing my fears.  And I realize that there is one thing I can depend on to get me through every single tough thing I face and that will help me rise about every single fear threatening to crush me:

Philippians 4:13 

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

And that, my friends, is how you crush fear.  

If you like my blog, share it.  Or Like my FB page to get updates.  Or subscribe to the e-mail list.  Or make a comment below.  If you don't like it, well...just try not to hurt my feelings.  I'm sensitive. 

 

Dreamy Customer Service

If you do build a great experience, customers tell each other about that. Word of mouth is very powerful.
--Jeff Bezos, Amazon.com

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved movies.  She was a BEAUTIFUL, intelligent, well-read, immaculately groomed, evenly-tempered girl (this is MY story, OK?  I can be whatever I want to be in my story!).

This girl who loved movies loved places where she could easily obtain movies she had not seen in the theater.  Because the girl was frugal and outraged by her ridiculously expensive cable bill, she had cut the cable cord many months ago and so did not have access to the On Demand world of her peers.  She became a Netflix girl and watched movie after movie beautifully streaming directly to her television.  She was in heaven not only because of the instant movie experience of Netflix, but also because she could watch an entire television series (e.g., Bones or Mad Men) from the comfort of her couch.  The beautiful, intelligent, well-read, immaculately groomed, evenly-tempered girl felt her butt grow large with all of this couch-sitting and television watching.

Then, the girl discovered the conveniently placed RedBox where she could rent movies from the comfort of her well-placed couch and simply drive a few miles and swipe her debit card to retrieve them.  The RedBox had newer releases than Netflix and, even better, she never had to talk to a soul to access the movies.

Her butt grew even larger.


One day, the girl reserved the movie Lincoln (the Blu-Ray Digital Experience version) from her local, conveniently placed RedBox.  She drove her immaculately kept car (again, my story) to the magical RedBox location and, much to her horror, was met by a service technician.  Tears looming in her beautifully lashed eyes, she listened to the technician explain that THIS RedBox was currently out of service.  Sadly, he couldn't tell her when it would be fixed.

"But," the girl stammered.  "I ALREADY RESERVED A MOVIE HERE."

"I'm so sorry," the technician answered.

Brokenhearted and let down by the one constant in her life, the girl got back in her amazingly clean car and drove aimlessly for three seconds until she realized that ANOTHER REDBOX WAS ONLY a mile or two away!  The birds sang again and the girl turned up the radio and rolled the windows down so the warm and fragrant breeze could blow through her shiny, movie-star locks.

The girl was able to rent the movie Lincoln (the Blu-Ray Digital Experience version) from yet another local, conveniently placed RedBox.  And her life went on smoothly, beautifully and terribly uncomplicated until she realized that, while she had only brought ONE movie home, she had PAID for two.

Frowning (something the girl never did because she needed to preserve her beautifully unlined, perfectly unfreckled face [MY STORY!]), the girl went to her computer.  She pulled up RedBox customer service and found, to her utter joy, she could TYPE A QUESTION to an on-call RedBox Customer Service Representative.  Within moments, the girl was connected to her new best friend, Vic.

She explained the tragic situation to Vic.  Without hesitation, her new best friend apologized to her for the terrible trouble she had experienced and then, to her delight, Vic offered her TWO FREE REDBOX RENTALS.  He explained that one rental was to reimburse her for the extravagant $1.60 expense of the first lost Blu-Ray Digital Experience and the SECOND was to compensate her for all her troubles.

The beautiful girl's wide smile shone through.  She thought that Vic must certainly feel the warm rays of her joy through their T-1 connection.  She thanked him profusely and, wiping a tear from her perfectly made-up eyes, told him that she would be forever faithful to The RedBox.

And, for the last week, she has been.

The End.