My funny Valentine

Is his figure less than greek..?

Naked man - My funny valentine - sexy

Is his mouth a little weak..? When he opens it to speak, is he smart….?

Yes he is. My wonderful sexy husband. With his big heart and warm brown eyes. His physically big head, that he had to order a special helmet to fit, after I had insisted that he would always protect his wonderful brain when riding his bike.

So – don’t change a hair for me, not if you care for me.

My funny valentine - naked man - vintage

Because I love him so, his incredible body, his proud chest, his strong arms. His grumpiness, his worrying. And his patience with me when I am difficult, or crying, or overenthusiastic expectantly jumping on him as soon as he comes in the door tired from a 12 hour day of work.

I am so happy, and so lucky!

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The fear

Are we still married…?

Yeah. For the past three days my husband has been distant, as he has been so tired and overwhelmed with school and work, and he has had allergy reactions that have taken over. I told him last night how I felt, really gently and just said that I needed to know that it had nothing to do with me, although I already kind of knew. It’s like that when you’re close to someone. I had been patient for days, and initiated every sex session, and not gotten much loving or tenderness. He apologized and reassured me, and the result now is a tired husband who is trying to overcompensate.. Hahah. It’s so cute. And I just told him that it’s okay and he can do what he wants to do to relax and wind down – whatever he needs, but I appreciate the compliments. He’s got the TV to himself and ordered a pizza, sitting there watching a game, happily shutting his brain off. I love him so much. We are so good.

But in my mind things are whirring. My niece as I’ve formerly written about posted a blog post last night which was disturbing but heartfelt and really well written. She was released from the hospital a week ago, where she had gotten a lot of care and therapy. But she hadn’t been able to open up. The structure and care was very comforting, so she was clinging to the warmth of that and not wanting to delve into the darkness. So again, coming home to my tired, sleep-depraved mother she fell back into a black hole. And she wrote in her blog that before the institutionalization, she had it all written down, how, where and when it would happen, – how she would kill herself. Just reading that made me shiver, she is better now, but knowing that she had gotten that far with her thoughts are terrifying, and it takes me back to when I was living with fear for 11 years, when her father, my brother was suicidal and very very sick. I still remember the day when my mum found him dead VERY very cleary. The feeling. The smells in the air. Everybody’s faces. And how my dad was NOT there for me. And my niece…. And now, six years later, I am dreading every phone call from my mother, far far away where I can’t reach them. What if this will be the call? Where she says that my niece is dead?

You might think that it’s silly to think like this, but when it happens to you, the fear is always there, and you KNOW that anyone can die at any time… you can loose anyone, it can happen to YOU. I am trying, believe me, to keep my thoughts in check. And t not let it become what I had before. I don’t want that again… The fear of my brother dying was taken over by an enormous grief of loosing him and depression, insomnia, struggle and anger. And now years down the line, I still battle all those things. Less, but still. But at least I am not living with that fear.

I fear other things. My biggest fear is to loose my mother. I can’t live without her. Not now… I need more time. I still feel like a child. And I am scared. I need her. And I am so scared of getting sick. Cancer. I am so scared of cancer. ALL my grandparents had it. And my mom hasn’t gotten it yet, she is 62. So either it’s coming or it skipped a generation. Me… is it coming for me? All this worrying about cancer might just give me cancer. Since I can remember I have been battling fear. I am sure most people are. But most people I know aren’t as scared as me. And when they are they deal with it in ways that I don’t even touch. I don’t drink alcohol, and I haven’t tasted it since I was eight. I don’t do drugs, and I don’t hide from my feelings. I confront them, and I work through it, sometimes it is almost impossible, but I have managed through a hell of a lot without any medication or sleeping pills. People are different, so I guess I am lucky to be able to do this. I’ve mastered my brain. Although I loose control of it and my emotions often, I never let go. I keep fighting. I just hope my niece can do the same. She is stronger than me, but she has also been through a hell of a lot more and WORSE than me.

Let’s all keep battling our fears, and hold on to the seconds of happiness that we get here and there. And I will keep being grateful. For not missing any limbs. For having all my senses. For not having cancer. For being married to the love of my life.

That woman in Yoga who takes off her top

Hello world!

Life has been busy as I have been working five/six different FUN jobs and there has been birthdays and Halloween. I am very happy now that I am bringing in some bacon, and my husband is cooking it happily up for us both, and is able to take some time off whenever the pressure at school takes off.

I am a roller-coaster of emotions, which can change a lot throughout the day, and quickly, and sometimes without warning. I had the day off today to lay about and do some paperwork at my own pace, while my husband was at school. When he was there I sent him such a happy message. About how happy and proud I am of our life, that we fought so hard for, and he worked so hard for. How much fun we’ve had lately, with his family and together, and how much passion and great sex. How I’m loving feeling like I am getting into a better shape, and I love how I look and how his compliments make me feel great.

He cooked up a delicious pasta dish when he came home, and I ate with him happily and rested a bit to digest the food before I headed off, to the gym, to do an hour of Zumba and then another hour of yoga. The past two weeks have been so busy I’ve only gone twice a week to the gym, when I usually try to keep the minimum to three days at least, with some cardio. I’ve been very active however, and I can tell I am getting more control over my body again, which I LOVE. I DO NOT, however, LOVE working out. I DESPISE it, and most of all…  YOGA. Yes yes yes… eeeeeverybody looooooooves Yoga. Ohh it’s so good for you, ahhh I feel so good and reenergized, Ohhh I love stretching, ah gash, I just had a granola bar and I am soooo ready for some yoga. NOOOOOT.

I’ve done Yoga for six years now, (for two years of the beginning I did it everyday as part of my theatrical training) and back then I was a lump of doughy nothing, so it took me a looooong time to progress. And After that I’ve done it (not religiously) but now and then. And trust me, I do NOT look like I’ve done it for six years..! I Do NOt have a yoga body, and never will, I am simply not built that way. Which is fine. I love how I am built. 🙂 But for the past two years I have done VERY little of it, and even less stretching, as I HATE it. it is so painful. I am really flexible ALL over my body, except my hamstrings, which are insanely tight. I can open my hips wiiiiide, and put my legs behind my neck, but I can’t for the love of me, stretch my legs out. And I am FAR from reaching my toes. This is bad, and gives me pains in my lower back. And tears of frustration comes easily when I am stretching them, as they are far more painful than in a normal stretch. So Today during the yoga, (in which I am not one of the good students that can do all the poses and moves easily) It’s frustrating and sometimes depressing feeling how I’ve gone backwards in my progress, and trying not to compare myself to others, – which is hard, when I see most other people doing the things with ease.

Than there are those women…. In this case, THAT woman, the tall slender woman, with an athletic body with long legs, stretching beautifully in front of me, that gets SO hot in there, in that big air-conditioned room with men and women posing on their mats, She gets SO hot, MORE hot than everyone else clearly, because She HAS to take of that little loose fitted top OFF to continue to practice in her little sports bra with her ripped abs and tanned skin. The man behind her certainly doesn’t mind. I felt like going; “oH Yeah! Me too man! I Am SOO hot..” And taking off my top to reveal my jiggly Buddah belly. And stand there in unflattering positions right in front of her and that guy. But no, NO ONE ELSE takes off their top. Just her. As I leave I am in need of a rant, and comes home to a husband who has no Idea what is coming to him, and sets off complaining and tries to compare it in as many understandable ways as possible. But he isn’t one of us. He is not MY kind. He is THEIR kind. He looks so good that he feels totally fine taking off his clothes in public, in fact he is frustrated that HE has to feel self conscious around the big guy who looks at him and thinks he is a douche. Ahhh…. How frustrating.

Well. Even WHEN I get my flat beautiful NON ripped belly, which is more than fine to show off in Yoga, I WON’T. Because I am totally fine with keeping my top on in class like everybody else. However, on the beach, while tanning. I am totally bare chested. Laying there, tanning my nipples. Like my mother and her saggy mommy boobs, that’s the woman I am.

Marriage councelling calms the storm

THIS IS THE POST I STARTED WRITING LAST WEEK THAT WASN’T SAVED…

 

Today I woke up from the outrageously loud construction from outside our building. (ARE WE REALLY PAYING A FULL MONTHS RENT !?) It has been going on every few days for a month now, and is SO annoying. I couldn’t get to sleep for a looong ass time, and I didn’t need to be woken up like that.

However, no nightmares. I was calm. Put on a bit of BBC’s old fashioned Crime series, while waking up for email checks etc. Hearing the English accents and seeing the countryside makes me feel good, and as I checked my emails, I was delighted to find that my job that I’ve had in the fire a long time, the one that has been really unsure has come through! Ahhhh Im gonna make money!!! I was so happy! I texted my husband as he was already in school and he sent supportive messages. I sent out receipts, made some calls, emailed here and there, did some paperwork and lesson plans, feeling good. Finally being able to do those things I tried to do yesterday but couldn’t because I was retardedly (sorry if this word offends someone) dysfunctional, practically speaking.

I felt better about my niece. I know her. She is strong. She is tough. She has survived so far. I felt more rational. As the husband came home, sweaty and wet from cycling home in the rain, grumpy as he didn’t want to shuffle off again right away to our marriage counseling, and his belly growling from hunger, I immediately got stressed out by his vibes, and although he didn’t say anything bad, his mood still affects me. Less now than it did when I first moved in, but I know how to avoid it getting worse, by shutting up, and making sure I am out of his way. We shuffle out, go downstairs, and meet our housing manager. He stops to talk to us about this recent ‘event’ that happened between me and my neighbor. This is what happened.

I had my sister in law and baby nephew visiting and our neighbors, that moved in a month ago, replacing a drug addict couple that fought ALL the time, were, GUESS WHAT, – fighting. As I said bye to them in the hallway, my sister in law told me to call the housing manager or the police, their door was cracked open and it was loud. It sounded like he was slapping her. They left and I decided, NO, I haven’t met them yet, and I feel like giving anyone a fair chance, I’ll knock on their door, introduce myself, and politely say that they were being quite loud.

THIS IS WHERE EVERYTHING WAS DELETED SO – LUCKILY FOR YOU, I AM TOO LAZY TO WRITE ALL OF IT, AND WILL SUMMARIZE IT. SEEING NOW HOW LONG THIS POST ALREADY IS, MAYBE IT WAS ALL FOR THE BEST… HA HA HA.

The neighbor came out and was pretty grumpy, he was LITERALLY wearing a wife-beater (those white tank-tops) and he listened to what I had to say quietly with a “What the fuck” expression, and as he didn’t say anything I kept going.. Then he shouted inside to his wife, ” Our neighbor want’s to know what we are doing in here!” I said quickly “No, no! That’s not what I meant, I just wanted to…” And before I could say anything else, ALL sorts of typical women-bashing profanity was thrown in my face, Which in itself was disturbing, but then he said something RACIST, YES one can be racist against white people, and that’s what happened to me, and THIS was what made me go INSANE. Well, quietly and rationally so… I tried to explain over and over, as the wife came out and asked me what was the problem, if the TV was too loud, She was holding him back as he was verbally attacking me. I told them that I would call the housing manager, and he shouted to “Go fucking call the manager then!” And I did. Our lazy shitty manager was somewhere else, but said he would be back in 30 min. He never came. I locked my door and sat there and texted my husband all night…

On our way to the Counselor, we met the housing manager and it had been over a week, and he had said this and that to me, my husband and sister-in-law on different occasions, and to them he had even said that the guy was going to apologize within two weeks.. Which is weird… within two weeks? Okay… but then we met him, and he made us late for our appointment as he is so slow at getting to the point, which was; The guy was NOT going to apologize, because he HADN’T shouted at me, and I had knocked on THEIR door. This infuriated me, AS IF I would get away with saying something RACIST towards ANYONE WHO ISN’T WHITE, in this case, this oriental guy, this piece of shit, had just gotten away with it, no problem. YEAH, next time I will call the cops. ARRGHHHH…. Fury bubbling through me as we discussed it with the counselor. But it helped to talk about it.

AND THAT IS HOW SHE CALMED THE STORM… Ha ha. Sorry about this. Any thoughts on this neighbor attack!? Was I ludicrously naive to introduce myself to a new neighbor who did indeed sound from the outside like he was under the influence? Should I put down my refusal to be the kind of human being that WANTS to make things work between HUMANS, by conversing face to face, interacting and being a NEIGHBOR!?

Out of touch, stuck in bed.

Ahhhh… the terrible flu. 200369127-001 - Sick - Flu - ColdLaying uncomfortably in bed, tossing and turning in ones own sweat, not able to do what you need the most, sleep…

I’ve been sick for five days now, and counting, but feeling better, to the point where I am back to living my life… ha ha. I’ve literally been in bed, with a sore throat, a LOT of phlegm, a sore body, headaches, snotty nose, and all that shizzle. I was so uncomfortable for the first two days that I couldn’t really sleep very well.. It was horrible. I woke up constantly, and tossed and turned, but I am sooo much better now.

There is a huuuuge difference between being sick, able to stay home inside on a rainy autumn day, clasping a mug of a delicious hot beverage, snoozing away and watching TV. And Being that kind of sick that I was. UNCOMFORTABLE. PAIN. SORE. SNOTTY. Erghhhh blah..!

Wanted to write this rather disgusting update as I wanted all of my friends on here to know that I have not died or abandoned you, I’ve just been absolutely OUT OF IT. I’ll try and catch up on some of your posts. Hope you all are well! 🙂  Xx LW

On this side and on that side

My heart is on both sides of the earth

On one side of the planet, I wake up, after a long nightmare about my mother dying, about loosing all my possessions including my passport. I overslept, I had written the wrong time down on my calendar on my phone, so my husband wakes me with a stressed call from my sister in law. I scream as he startled me. I feel depressed. Then I remember with delight that we are going on a spa day,that my husband bought for us as a treat, a full package with a facial and all. I run downstairs and we get there 7 minutes late. The spa was a strange experience, I was sure I was being punk’d or something on a hidden camera because of the characters that were there. It was nice, and relaxing at times but, I didn’t expect to be doing crunches in the middle of a facial. As I sat in the waiting room afterwards, eating grapes and chilling out, I read a few messages from my mum.

On the other side of the planet, my niece has been institutionalized, my mother had waited with her for a really long time, not slept, my niece had finally gotten a place somewhere, but what shook me to my core was, it was the same hospital as my brother used to live in. The name of the hospital in itself, it affects me. The kids in my class teasing me, and singing that stupid song about it in primary school. The countless visitations there, that were both fun, and despairing. The celebration of Christmas at that institution. The constant fear that my brother would kill himself. And after over a decade, he killed himself. Now his daughter is there. After all she’s been through, Loosing her father, being sexually abused by her step father, and betrayed by her mother, she is now finally getting some help, 24/7 attention with professionals, in a safe atmosphere. I hope it’s okay, I hope she’ll feel better. I hope this isn’t one of those cases where there is no turning back. I’m scared. Again. I know it’s not all about me, this is about her, and her well being, and her improvement, but the fact that she is THERE made me feel worse. I am scared for her. Her being suicidal frightens me to the core. Loosing her.. she is so young, younger than me, smarter, brighter and more beautiful than me. She is better than me. But she was given the shortest straw. I have been lucky. I am frightened, worried and trauma from the past is threatening to come out through vomit, tears and hyper breathing. But I’m keeping calm. Calm.

Purr purr purr

catwoman

I am a Happy Kitty…

Days go by as I constantly work on creating work for myself, going on business meetings with potential clients, cook dinner for my husband, keep the apartment clean, go to classes, go to the gym and lay me down to watch me some movies and enjoy my opportune hours to choose to be lazy instead. I am getting better at laying around a little. I know that I am doing what I can to move things forward, so I don’t feel like I am wasting time or being lazy, and my husband has been in a better mood lately, and supported me in my failures, and cheered me on when I work towards something. I know it’s a 50/50 – Me allowing myself to treat myself (WHILE I CAN) and HIM being supportive and not giving me a jealous and slightly bitter attitude when I have had a nice relaxing day. This enables me to enjoy myself more and not be bitter either, when I do all the wifey housework things that was my nightmare to end up doing ever since I was a little girl, but I’ll do it for HIM. Because I love him, and I want to make things easier for him. That is kind of my contribution as I am not really contributing evenly financially.

Making him a packed lunch for him to pick up after school before work, keep the house clean and tidy so he can come home feeling relaxed and space out in peace. Cook him dinner to come home to at night after a 12 hour long day. Rub his back and sometimes his feet when he is exhausted. Give him a blow job before work, or before school to perk him up. Send him some lovely texts during the day that require no answer. Understanding that some nights after a whole day of school and work, and us not having seen each other, that he’ll not want to hang out, only some sex and cuddling, silence, and leaving him to do his own things, homework, Fantasy football, reading the news, masturbating, playing madden. Some HIM time. Keeping myself busy and happy, so he doesn’t have to worry about entertaining me .

It has gotten a lot better, in the beginning we had been apart in a long distance relationship for almost a year, not seeing each other in the Flesh – at all. Meaning NO SEX for either of us for that whole time, and communicating only via post, email, skype and texts. Our love lasted and grew stronger, and when I finally got here through an excruciating process, leaving my familiar and beloved Europe behind, my family, friends and my plans. For HIM. I wanted every second of the day with him, I wanted to squeeze every second for all the romance and intensity I could get, that I had longed for, that I had waited for. But it didn’t take long for him to start needing more space for himself, which broke my heart. It was a disappointment. I started doubting us. Yeah yeah, people are different, but I think that when you really love someone you’ll want to be with them all the time..bla bla bla…. but after a while, some passionate arguments, fights, I learned and came to accept that we are different, and love each other the same, on the same level, but a little differently. And He didn’t ask for much. He needed to get used to me too, having me there all the time, and me to him, our mood-swings, habits, buttons and laundry detergent. And we did. We do spend a hell of a lot of time together. He always chooses me. Hang out with friends, go out, stay behind at work with his coworkers drinking, -no. He comes home. To me. Cycles happily with the helmet I insisted he’d buy and wear, that makes him look like an idiot. To see, me. To hold me. And THAT’s what I want. It makes me purr.

I am glad and willing to push him out the door to hang out with friends more, and he is so positively surprised when I do. Of course!! Friends are so important. He doesn’t have friends on the level I do, not here, he’s not like me. But his buddies, are nice for him to have, so they can watch sports together and all those typical manly things. And the result is, which also pleases me, he misses me. And when he comes home he’s all over me. And I play casual and hard to get…ahhhh Im so in love! It’s sunday, and I am going to a party with some friends tonight. He’s been up since early this morning to catch every single football game. He’s exhausted from standing (!) in front of the TV, running back and forth to his fantasy football league on his computer all day. Now he’s snoozing away, and I look over at his chunky thighs and meaty buttocks… I love him. And he loves me. We are growing, we are learning, our love… is evolving. And as long as we are as passionate for each other as we are, because that is what this kitty needs, I will never give up.

I should have done the dishes right away

Another luxurious day of getting to do everything I want in my own time. But there is a downside. My husband fell asleep around eleven last night and headed to school this morning. I fell asleep around 5:30 in the morning after a night of worrying about a struggling family member back in home, (where I am not). I woke up at 1:30 pm, and my neck and back was aching. I sent a message to my husband wishing him to continue to have a good day. He responded nicely.

I got a call back from the clinic about my PAP smear and STD test and all is well. Although that blasted nurse needs to change her opening lines, because for a minute there I almost had a panic attack. I texted him that and I felt relief. I went for a swim in the pool, dried off and stretched out on the floor a bit, made his bed, made my bed and looked for his lunch box so I could prepare that for him, as he has a very short time (40 min.) between school and work. I couldn’t find the elastic band holding it together, so I didn’t prepare it. I thought that it wouldn’t be a big deal since he doesn’t expect me to do it. I saw the heap of dishes he had left from this morning and delayed doing it.

I went down got the mail, got another check from my prospected job, (teaching an after school class). I sent them a receipt and filed the check. I can’t use the checks until I’ve got enough applications, if I don’t reach the minimum of interested people, I’m going to have to refund them, so I am kind of nervous about that. My babysitting employer also texted me about a group childcare job, which I JUST missed out on, as the positions were filled really quickly. I felt bummed, and as my husband came home, I updated him.

He had found a Hydro Flask in the library that a guy had left behind, he was there for two hours and the guy never came back. He took it home. I said, dude, wasn’t there a lost and found? Couldn’t you have handed it in? ‘No there wasn’t a lost and found in the library’ But what about the campus somewhere, surely? When you left my glasses in the library someone had handed it in! “Yeah, but the guy didn’t seem to care about the bottle. He just left it there and never came back. He didn’t seem bothered with it.” I quickly gave up and just said, ‘you are hilarious’. Although I disagreed with his choice, But whatever.

He stood by the kitchen area and I said, “Oh I was going to make you lunch but I couldn’t find your elastic band” He found it really quickly and just left it on the counter, saying nothing. Then he started doing the dishes saying; “I’m going to make myself something to eat.” I could tell his mood was bad and I asked if he was ok. Yeah. Did I do something wrong? No. But he ‘wished that it would be available for him to cook’. So I quickly gathered that he was annoyed that I hadn’t done the dishes. I thought of offering to do them, and for him to do something else that he needed to, but I knew he would say no as he had already started. I just sat there a while, watching, feeling bad. Then I moved over to the couch and continued my research end emails.

After a while he said that he was going to get something to eat at work instead. I barely acknowledged him, and he left and we exchanged polite pleasantries. I held the door open for him as he left with his bicycle. I was angry. Way to make me feel inadequate! Jesus. Yeah he is stressed, and I could have made it easier for him by doing the dishes, but god dammit don’t give me that attitude! I’m not here to be your fucking cleaning lady! I HATE This ! I feel so unequal and shitty and I only made the beds and made things look neat so that he would be happy when he came home! I don’t CARE about those things, I’ll do it when I WANT to do it. I am doing this HIS way, (yeah they are more adult and organized) But it’s HIS way so that HE is more comfortable. I was pissed off for a while, and looked at my phone hoping he would send me an apology. Then I changed my mind and texted HIM an apology. Thinking, Don’t make it all about ME. I get to have a nice relaxing day alone, the only thing I really have to do is cook dinner for us.  I texted;

“I’m sorry if I made your transition bad. I’ll make sure to have the dishes done the next time. Hope you got fed well and are feeling better. And sorry that I didn’t see the elastic band. I promise to make you lunch tomorrow. x”

He hasn’t seen it yet. And I’m still feeling shitty THREE hours later. I need to get better at letting things go and enjoying myself. Heeeeeeeeeelp…

Perfection

I am following in Dawn D‘s footsteps and being inspired by OctPoWriMo, and today’s word was, PERFECT. These are the thoughts that were triggered for me.

I have met women, girls and cats, that I thought were close, to perfect.

My mother always said to me, that nobody is perfect, and the definition of perfect changes quickly, as quickly as a decade, sometimes only a year.

Therefore when I met the women, girls and cats, that I thought were close, to perfect,

I knew they really weren’t and somehow that made me smile.

When I was little, there was a girl in my class. All the boys saw her and all the girls loved her, and she was so pretty, sporty and smart, she always finished her math tasks first, and had lots of friends. I thought she must be perfect, since everybody wants to copy her, but I am not like her, not one little bit, then what am I, if that is perfection?

Imperfect.

When I became a young woman, I came to know a young woman, she was a year under me in school, and she was so perfect. Her short platinum blonde hair, perfect on her perfect head. Her stunning face, with light makeup, collar bones, glowing skin, womanly beautiful body. She was funny, talented and had a unique style, I was blown away, to the point of obsession, a girl crush, the wonder, how did she do it? Why was she this flawless? Everyday?

And what was I? Next to her?

Cats are so perfect, their bodies so strong, sleek and flexible, their faces are stunning and so god damned cute. They jump and stretch and purr when they’re happy and lay in the sun with a grin on their face.

I wish I was a cat.

But I knew all along, and I still know it true.

The little girl I once knew, She wasn’t perfect, she was spoiled, she manipulated, took advantage of her assets and hurt people’s feelings. It made her imperfect, it made her foul. And now she is plane, boring and uninteresting. Maybe she’ll learn, like I did.

The young woman I still know, she had her teeth done, the two corner teeth in her pearly white smile, were crooked and made her the most unique face ever. Now her teeth are straight, and her face slightly less interesting, I loved that “imperfection” but vanity got her. I know she’s not perfect, but she is a good person. The pressure of looking like this and that, it affects her, as much as it does me.

The cat, it is dead. It used it’s nine lives. It purred, jumped, screeched, scratched, played and made my life so good. But it’s gone now, his kidney failed him, and he had to go to sleep. But he reminds me of how someone, and something can be perfect to me, to you and to all.

Perfect is a vague word, it’s flawed and ever-changing. But it’s handy for a situation, a moment, a second,

when you’re truly happy, and all worries are gone, when someone looks indescribable, or it lands, hand in glove. Perfection, I’ve felt it, I’ve seen it, I’ve stroked it. But it never stays the same.