Stress > relief

Oh hey, I’m stressed. Isn’t that novel?

Once again coming to you from Toronto’s Own TTC. Picked up paint, rollers, a drop cloth and roller trays from a friend. I crammed it all into the milk crate on the back of my bike. Had to go extra slow to ensure nothing fell off, since each bump in the road was a potential hazard. My girlfriend and I washed some walls, and did the tiniest bit of painter’s tape edging. She’s still there. I’m off to work to do some live DV. After which I’ll probably come home, sleep and wake to do more tomorrow. Partially the fact that we’re scrambling so much to get things primed and painted before Friday’s move is our fault. We had time and could’ve worked on this in the preceding weeks. Also we’d figured that it would be entirely fine to ask friends to help with this stuff. In any other circumstance we’d be fine. We didn’t bank on getting shafted by a global pandemic that made gatherings of more than two people highly questionable at best, and quite irresponsible in the least. Let me tell you, we did not see physical isolation as a likely outcome when we planned to move. Not even remotely on our radar. I’m working each evening until Tuesday, when we’re hoping to have finished all the painting. Then two days to pack up an entire house, and the move on Friday. I must not fear, fear is the mind-killer, fear is the little death that brings total oblivion.

So what’s good right now? Oh I know, I got a bandana. I won’t say how many times I had to try re-typing that into my swype keyboard predictive text, but it was a ducking pain in the arse. It’s not even an amazing banana (fuck it, if it comes out that way, you know I’m not talking about the fruit), but it was cheap, and fulfills a need I have. I got it from Dollarama. I saw ages back that they had “buffs” – bandana kind of things just cover your mouth, but enable you to breathe – and I didn’t buy one. They’re incredibly useful for winter or cold weather jogging. Instead of inhaling ice cold air that feels like knives going down your throat, you can put a barrier on that really helps. I’ve searched at a ton of locations, but I’d come up with zero, zilch, nada and naught. Then the other day while we were looking for painting equipment I came across these fantastic bandanas, same kind of thing as the buffs, but under a different name. They’re stretchy, comfortable, and thankfully not garish. I also have several bananas (actually the fruit) that will be good for the next couple of days. Come to think of it, we probably need more bananas. Great, something else that needs doing.

I’m looking forward to having the move out of the way. To getting off these work shifts and spending some time zoning out, decorating the new apartment with my girlfriend. Despite the frustrations of the world inverting and collapsing, there are fun times ahead. In a week’s time, I won’t even be doing this daily writing, and imagine what a relief that’s gonna be after seven whole years without missing a day.

A silver lining right now would be totally golden.

Talk talk torque

I was walking back from the work kitchen and noticed a guy I hadn’t seen in a while.

We’d been talking a while back. It was during the time in my old job. Y’know, when I was complaining daily and desperately seeking anything else to do? Really sweet dude. He and I chatted. He was doing a job I was interested in, and readily gave me advice. He told me potential actions I could take, and offered to show me the ins and outs of the job. He’d been there a few years, and was ready to take on more advanced work. Before I got the chance to sit with him, he moved onto another part of the company to cover maternity leave. I was stoked, he got to do the kind of work he’d been seeking, and see what another department was like. He’d really understood what I was going through, and told me he’d been through a bunch of it in the past. I saw him a few times after that, but I never had any good news to relay.

Today was the first time I’d seen him since switching positions. He beamed as I told him I’d finally moved on. We talked about my job, the responsibilities of the role, and the host of things I got to do within it. I asked about where he was. He said that he’d since moved on from the maternity cover, and was finally in the job he’d sought before the cover. He said that the other role gave him a host of extra skills that cemented him for the next position. Sincerely great news to hear. I showed him my studio and what I did. He was impressed, and told me a few places I could consider if I decided I wanted to move on, or even take on additional work. I logged them in the back of my brain and said my goodbyes.

For all the great aspects of moving positions, this was a nice moment. It felt pretty resonant to have essentially the same kind of conversation with someone, but with both our outlooks exceedingly sunnier. I was stoked to hear of things going so well for this dude, and it was pretty swell sharing my success with him. These kind of milestones are the sort of things that rock to look back at. Not gonna lie, that sentence primarily existed for the pun. It’s made me think though, I don’t necessarily have any current goals to achieve in this job. I have no problem with that, and naturally there’s a learning curve I’m following. I still have an absurd amount to learn about the craft, and that will take years to master. I’m not feeling stifled. I do think, however, that it’d be a cool project to put a demo reel together at some point. For years I’ve loved the idea of doing voice overs. With a job like this, I’d have the freedom and flexibility to do VO work on the side. I’m not hurting for income, but neither would it hurt to put together a rainy day fund. Maybe that’s a little project I can work on. Find ways to expand my portfolio, and have a varied selection of styles to showcase on my skite tape. Just because it’s not essential, doesn’t mean it ain’t worth trying.

I can speak now, and hold my peace for as long as I want.

What’s it called when you go on a date to shop for horizontal window coverings?

I’ve been watching too many dating shows.

Part of it has been work. I’ve had a stack of Blind Date episodes to DV, and it’s putting me into a dating mood. The show has been rebooted, and the premise is very simple. Two people meet and are left to go on a pre-organised date. They do some kind of daytime activity, then get drinks/food at a restaurant, then go to a pool/hot tub to see if they get more intimate and/or want a second date. Like I said, straightforward. Nikki Glaser does the voice overs, they’re punchy and make fun of weird things people say/do. The show isn’t amazing, and neither is it terrible. Compared with something like Love is Blind, they generally do a decent job of showcasing personalities. They point out awkward moments or inappropriate things folks say, unrealistic expectations, etc. Formulaic? Yes. Easy to watch? Also yes.

Today’s episodes had a few things I really liked. First, the current episodes are filmed in Atlanta, and Atlanta folks seem to have personality to spare. The women, at least, have been fantastic at advocating for their needs. They do these little cutaway piece to camera segments with each participant during a date. One of the women was a passionate writer set up with a nerdy dude who had no aptitude for spontaneity. “He’s not my usual type” she said to the camera “but I’ve been dating my type for so long and I’ve gotten nowhere. Why not give something else a try?” The date wasn’t amazing by any stretch, but that was a pretty great outlook to have. I think a ton of us have this idea of what we’d want that doesn’t reflect the reality that we’re only partially cognisant of what we really want/need. “Types” are often indicative of desire and pattern recognition. We notice that previous partners have similarities, and a bunch of the time we assume that these similarities are why the relationships succeeded as much as they did. But, I dunno, maybe if those relationships of a type all ended, the type wasn’t quite right?

In other episodes, I noticed a few women really standing up for themselves. Whether it was calling dudes out on inappropriate comments, or misjudging a situation, a few of them straight up dictated the date. A 40 year old woman was on a date, and took zero bullshit. She’d done this for long enough that she had no interest putting up with lacklustre behaviour. I wish more people would take up this attitude and actually tell people what they’re into. A ton of people are wishy washy on dates, or let their boundaries slide so as not to seem unappealing or stuck up. Knowing what you want is such a powerful position on a date, because it actually helps good dates go better. If the fit wasn’t going to be right with you asking for things, then how would a relationship succeed under the same parameters? We need to be able to be honest with partners and broadcast our needs, elsewise they’ll go unfulfilled. What’s the point in getting stuck in an unfulfilling relationship? You’re doing yourselves a disservice. Be honest, and if the date doesn’t work out, a relationship likely would not have either.

But also, now I’m jonesing for friends to set me up on a blind date. They know me pretty well. Surely something like that could be arranged?

Lion tamer is right out

Jobs that I would want:

  • Doing evil laughs on command.
  • Patting Highland cattle for hours on end.
  • Trying out adult sized playgrounds and obstacle courses to assess funability.
  • Radio call in show of most any variety.
  • Dating show reality TV contestant.
  • Meal taster for an aristocrat.
  • Years ago at a party, some dude told me that Katy Perry had a professional nipple tweaker for her music videos. I want to do that. It doesn’t have to be Katy Perry. I could be most anyone’s professional nipple tweaker, I just want to be able to tell people that I hold the position of professional nipple tweaker.
  • One of the knights at Medieval Times, if the pay was good.
  • Professional shit stirrer.
  • A mascot in Japan.
  • A paid wedding guest.
  • Friend to monkeys.
  • A tour guide to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.
  • Pokémon consultant.
  • Hat model.
  • Taste tester for cheese.
  • Smooshing dough in my hands. No baking, just the smooshing part.
  • Lying on beds to assess comfort.
  • Spokesperson for Paddington.
  • Pimple Popper.
  • Ninja Turtle.
  • One of those old timey strongmen complete with moustache and black wrestling singlet.
  • Panel host.
  • Quality Tester at a weed edibles factory.
  • Snow sculptor.
  • Eccentric columnist.
  • Raccoon (I think I’d have a flair for it).
  • Weather presenter.
  • Pie contest judge.
  • Slow clap starter.

But I do like my job too.

They didn’t even have the dignity to line up for a mug shot

I’m ready for time off already.

Sure, it’s only been four days since I was in Montreal, but I’ve been sick for the past week and a half. Cut me some slack. Frankly, I’m mostly tired of being unwell. This goddamn phlegm. I’ve been coughing day and night. For the past 24 hours, the phlegm has often featured blood, just for kicks. I dunno, I think I’ve just had a bloody nose, but who knows? Maybe it’s more? In any case, I managed to infect my girlfriend too, who’s going through symptoms about a week behind me. Slacker. What, did we think just because we halted lip kisses for a few days we’d sidestep passing it on? Maybe we should’ve avoided sharing drinks/cutlery too. Then again, what kind of relationship would that even resemble?

My work mug is lost. Well, it probably knows where it is. I don’t. That’s the issue. It’s nobody’s fault, really. I think someone was trying to be helpful. I do shift work, and share my studio with two others. Chances are, one of them saw my empty mug and put it back in the communal kitchen. It’s a Bermuda Triangle kind of place. Cutlery vanishes in a heartbeat. There are many mugs, but they ebb and flow. I didn’t care a ton about the mug. It was some dumb thing I picked up at a secret Santa. It had a stupid slogan on it, and was probably randomly picked up from Indigo. It did, however, have a flared base. They’re not just great for butt plugs. A flared base meant my mug would rarely tip. It certainly never tipped on my watch. I didn’t even use it much, but I sure would’ve preferred the option of abandoning it, rather than the mug making that choice. Does that make me a control freak? Or just confirm it?

Why am I still talking about work, when I don’t have to be back there until Tuesday evening? I’ve got a broad and varied social life, surely there’s something more interesting I have planned over the next few days?

I mean, I was thinking of going to the bathroom..?

Sweater weather

Well I feel like wet garbage.

I don’t know what exactly has me down, but I feel cold and flu-esque. My skin is ultra sensitive, my muscles ache, I’m mega congested. I spent most of last night in bed just tossing and turning around. It felt like purgatory. I’d turn one way, settle in, then feel uncomfortable and turn the other way. I don’t know how much sleep I actually got, but I imagine it was in the realms of 4-5 hours if even. According to this article I read yesterday, that ain’t enough. The article says eight hours or bust, basically. That while we think we’re doing fine on fewer, we ain’t. That the cumulative effect of losing an hour daily can be tantamount to feeling drunk. Maybe 2020 is the year I finally tackle my dislike of slumber. Much as I don’t want to be sleeping that much, if it’s the healthy and responsible choice, I’m getting too old not to make those. It only gets worse from here on out, and the undesirable task of mitigating that falls to me. Gross. Is that what growing old is all about?

I’m honestly kind of gutted to be missing work today. It’s my first sick day as an independent contractor. Without paid sick leave, there’s a very real cost to being sick. I’m impressed that this is the first time since I started in September that I’ve had to stay home. Still, I could use the funds. We’re going to Montreal over the weekend for a wedding. So yes, money could be handy (as if it’s ever not), but I think it’s more important to take the time and heal up, rather than potentially ruining a trip. I’ve got a few days to right myself, or at least to get to a place where meds can do the heavy lifting. It’s gonna be cold and snowy no doubt. Montreal in January tends to be. Last year when we walked down the road in Montreal, cars were entirely covered by snow. It was nuts, and felt like we’d strolled through a blizzard. If I don’t get healthy soon, I really will be under the weather. Pun 1000% intended.

I’m actually pretty excited for this trip. I love weddings, and while I don’t know this couple super well, I do know them as abundantly loving, creative people. I’m sure it’s gonna be a fantastic ceremony, but moreso it’s gonna be a great crowd to spend time with. As far as I understand, there are a few group activities, and the wedding itself has involved a lot of communal work. The bridal party is quite extensive and close-knit. My girlfriend is part of it. I’m looking forward to seeing what they’ve cooked up, and the special touches that the ceremony will exhibit.

Right now though, I’m looking forward to kicking this flu to the curb.

Good news if you wanted to live in an escape room

I have nothing significant to say, and I feel more than borderline sick, so why not write?

I feel conflicted writing about shows I’ve done Described Video for. Most of them have yet to air, so that seems tantamount to spoilers? I don’t know that anyone would care, but something about it still seems iffy. For the first time in so very long, I really like my job. If there was any way my behaviour could lead to losing it, that’d be good behaviour to avoid. That said, I was watching a show last night where two characters wanted to have sex but OH NO, they were out of condoms. They had a chat about whether or not they had to use them, because she was on birth control. She was like “well, how about we both get tested, and try this again tomorrow night?” It read as if there was some causality implied. They’d get the tests, and if they were both STI free, they’d have sex sans condoms. Have these writers ever had a check up? What kind of place do they go where they’re getting instant answers? Every time I’ve had a sexual health check up they’ve been like “here, pee in this plastic container and if you never hear from us again, you’re all good.” It’s not the biggest issue in the world, but it also seems a little odd that nobody in the writer’s room would speak up. It’s great they’re encouraging check ups, but it would’ve been nice to handle those little details. I mean, look, I’m not asking for them to do a detailed scene where these characters sideline the plot to get check ups. It wasn’t even a big plot point. I dunno, just felt lazy. I’m sure very few viewers even batted an eye.

In other news, the Ford government is back on its bullshit. For those too lazy to click, they’re essentially trying to bring in changes allowing developers to hire their own building inspectors. I can’t imagine a world where this is a good idea. I’m not gonna pull any Chicken Little rhetoric here, but I get the sense that this would lead to a ton of rushed jobs, where safety concerns went largely ignored. The chances of developers hiring inspectors who were fully impartial, and held building codes and standards with the respect they deserve, seem incredibly low. Like most of the Ford government’s policies, it seems the type that favours those with money at the expense of those without. The rich folks sure aren’t gonna have to live in these potentially unsafe hovels. They’re not gonna be so desperate that they’ll opt for subpar accommodations. If the province is SO worried about the abundance of inspections required and the lack of inspectors, why not pump money into hiring more inspectors? There are already institutions that perform these exact jobs, and it seems a ton easier than creating the infrastructure required for adequate additional training. It’s not like I’m well learned in these matters, but I’m not sure Ford sees a lack of education as an issue. I mean, it never stopped him.

Also, just a reminder that the Ford government removed rent caps for any properties built after November 2018. So if you’re getting one of these new rush jobs, it may be potentially unsafe, and they can raise your rent as they see fit. For the people, eh? Cool, just when we’re looking to find a new place. Will the fun never cease?

For me it will. I’m out.

All for spree and spree for all

For a change, and mostly to save time, I’m writing this on an exercise bike. My hypothesis is that by doing so it’ll cheapen both simultaneously. Last I heard, efficiency was a positive attribute.

It’s Sunday evening and this gym is dead. I’m literally the only person in the cardio area, possibly even on this floor. Who knows? The leading quality of this location is that it’s built like a labyrinth. Twisting hallways and weird back areas. The layout is so unintuitive it’s almost charming. As a result it’s very unpopular, and that’s a perk. I don’t have to wait while power lifters spend an hour and a half in a single squat rack. I can do my workout without too much hassle and leave. Even better, the bathroom is always stocked with cotton buds, so I can pick earwax AND there’s nobody around to judge me. The perfect crime. It’s crazy how quiet it is at the moment. They even turned off the music. Weird. I didn’t think there’d be listener quota.

Oh. The guy just came over. Turns out it’s quiet because this place closes at 6pm, and it’s currently 6:01pm. I need to shower tout de suite.

I’m hunkered down in the corner of a Starbucks. Because I’m a strident political activist, I’m not even gonna buy anything. Once again, the perfect crime. I’m practically on a perfect crime spree tonight. Man, I feel like spree is a word I barely use. I wonder what kind of sprees I could go on. If I get more than eight hours of sleep in a night, is that a slumber spree? I ate half a rack of ribs last night. Was that a bone spree? Does half an hour count as a writing spree? Y’know, I just worked a whole day, which felt like a veritable DV spree.

Honestly, today was an OWN spree. Oprah’s network. For the past two days it’s been almost nothing but OWN content. It’s very much not my kind of entertainment, and that’s fine. One show though, egads it’s abysmal. I don’t know that I’d ever seen Tyler Perry content before starting this job. Having watched The Haves and The Have Nots, I yearn for those days of innocence. Apparently the show is wildly popular, which seems the greatest crime of all. If there’s a spree to end all sprees, it’s that show continuing to exist. It’s tacky as shit. The acting is incredibly forced, with all the subtlety of an anvil. The writing clunks along like it’s on square wheels. I saw a bunch of people retweeting Perry saying he writes everything solo. No writer’s rooms. It shows. The plot is staid and predictable. Everyone inevitably sleeps with everyone else. For all the credit I’d be ready to give it for writing gay male characters, it fails to write any that are believable. So I guess that’s equality in 2019. That said, I can’t judge Perry on his work ethic. He’s prolific to a fault. Now that dude must engage in some writing sprees. Is that the perfect crime?

You know, maybe what we’ve learned today is that I’m an even worse criminal than I am a writer.

Well excuuuuuuuuse me Princess

Are y’all ready for a little secret? I hate making responsible choices.

I guess that’d have more impact if you knew me better. It’s not like I’m a bastion of decorum, living as an adult should. At the same time, I eat three square meals a day, try to get eight hours sleep a night, and I obviously keep regular. I never miss work, I wake up to my alarms, I do my dishes and clean my laundry regularly. I bike to work when I can, and catch public transit when I can’t. I am the very model of a boring aged millennial.

I also love to drink, smoke weed, and eat more than is necessary any chance I can get. I use excessive Oxford commas. I stay up late doing nothing meaningful on the internet. I rarely read books these days, and my mum would balk at how infrequently we clean the sheets. I still haven’t watched Parasite. I’m not perfect. I try, but I’ve got time. I’m not dead yet.

But back to the second paragraph, I get stuff done, right? I’m not a total mess, and there’s a reason for that. I’ve developed a system that works for me in making responsible choices. I’m not gonna say “it’s easy”, but here’s what works for me: I try to make excuses really hard to come by. If I have the choice to do something less responsible, I’ll usually want to do it. Maybe eight times out of ten, at least. So I’ve found that if I create a structure whereby it’s so easy to make a more beneficial choice, I will. If it’s late at night, I’ll always want to snack. If we have chocolate, ice cream, candy, whatever, that’s what I want. Over the years I’ve tried to cut down those options. I’ll stock the house with healthier foods to minimise the severity of binge eating. I’ll give myself options, but they’re pretty tame. Apples, granola, peanut butter and jam on rice cakes. If it’s more work to go to the store to pick up ice cream, I’ll likely settle for whatever’s in the fridge or cupboards.

I don’t use the snooze function on an alarm. I have a time to wake up and that’s that. If I gave myself the option of snoozing, who knows when I’d actually get out of bed? Without that choice I either get up when my alarm goes off, or I miss work. I could either be slightly frustrated by tensing my fingers and toes a bunch of times to keep myself awake, or I could get fired. It’s hard to make excuses when it’s easier to make the responsible choice.

I like biking to work. I’m not sandwiched between people, the activity keeps me alert and awake, it’s exhilarating to speed down hills. It’s also more effort than it would be to take a bus and be passive. It’s so easy to sit down and listen to a podcast, walk a small amount, then be at work. On the other hand, it’s so much cheaper to bike. Every day that I bike to work, I save roughly $6. That stacks up. Back when I worked five days per week, I was paying $145 or so per month for a bus pass. It’s Winter, so I’m biking a little less often, but if the weather was conducive I’d be spending somewhere closer to $30 a month, probably? Over the course of a year, that’s a big chunk of change. It’s definitely enough to have reimbursed myself for the cost of the bike itself. With that at stake, it seems a no-brainer to bike when I can. If I legitimately need the break, I’ll take it, but otherwise I strap on my helmet and head downhill.

Dishes, gym, sleep, washing. I don’t necessarily want to do these things. I know they’re good for me, but they’re not fun. At some point, I will have to do them. If I keep procrastinating, I’ll have to think about how I’m not doing them. The frustration will sit in the back of my brain, and it’ll niggle at me when I’m doing something I like. So the thing I like becomes less enjoyable, ’cause I’m too busy being annoyed with my procrastination. The sooner I do them, the sooner they’re over and I can enjoy the stuff I actively want to do. These tasks may mean I spend less time doing my chosen activities, but it’ll be quality time when I do. When I think of it that way, where are my excuses?

Case in point, this daily writing. Do I want to do it every day? Any day? Mostly no. However, my choice is to do the writing before I go to sleep. I’m not allowed to sleep until I’ve written. Insomnia would be less desirable than putting aside half an hour, so it’s hard to find an easy excuse. Accordingly, I think I’ve done almost 2500 days in a row. See, it works!

Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna buck the trend and excuse myself for the day.

Is “I watch too much TV to watch TV” a real issue?

I watch more and less TV than ever.

Most of it isn’t elective viewing. Given that I’m working in Described Video, my job literally requires me to watch TV for eight or so hours per shift. I have very little control over what I watch. Sometimes it’s good, most of the time it ain’t. Whatever, that’s my job. I’m not complaining. It still boggles my mind how dominant reality TV is after all these years. Entertainment is entertainment, and I judge nobody for what they choose to watch. That said, egads these shows are fucking garbage, and I’m sure that’s part of the attraction. Rich white women with manufactured conflict and unrelatable issues. I’m sure it’s part train wreck, part vicarious. What would it be like to have all that money, and such simple problems? Hell, I see these dating shows and mentally insert myself into the situation. What would I say? How would I react? I get that. What I don’t get is how, in the Golden Age of Content, we’ve placed the mundane on such a pedestal and made stars out of unremarkable nobodies. Things like Bravocon freak me out. I don’t know at what stage people go from mocking to idolising these figures. It’s beyond weird. Celebrity is fucked up, but that’s nothing new. I mean, it gave us Trump, right? That played out well…

I don’t know what the point of that preamble was, if not to say that I’m watching TV all day at work. When I get home, it’s hard to sit down and get invested in a narrative. My stack of TV I meant to watch has grown out of control. I never got around to Chernobyl, which I’ve only heard amazing (and bleak) things about. I think I’m a series behind in Killing Eve, which feels like a travesty. That show is a goddamn marvel. Excessive critical response to Succession tells me that I’m far overdue to watch and catch up. Search Party is one of the most original shows I’ve seen in years, and my girlfriend and I have been at the start of season 2 for yonks. I don’t know what, aside from discomfort maybe, has kept me from diving deeper into Baskets. It’s as funny as it is cringeworthy. I have yet to finish Hannibal, a show that I can’t believe ever made it to network television. Still haven’t finished Legion, something I would’ve chastised myself for a year ago. I loved True Detective season one so much, and while season two was a shitshow, I’ve heard overwhelmingly good things about season three. The Americans is apparently impeccable, but the amount of seasons feels daunting when my list is already so long. It’s part of nobody’s water cooler talk, so I think I’m safe for now. Speaking of which, when am I gonna start Deadwood? Will I ever get far enough into Lodge 49 that I understand the widespread adoration people feel for it? Then again, Fosse/Verdon is supposed to be fantastic and the people involved are amazing. But what of Watchmen? It’s been so high on critics’ lists and makes sense given all of my tastes. It feels like if there’s a time to start, it’s now. But Kumail/Emily’s Little America is only a week or two away. When am I gonna find the time for that?

All of which is to say that I started Ramy last night at around 2am and instantly fell in love. While I’m not and have never been religious, I really appreciate media that depicts religion as an everyday part of normal people’s lives without being preachy. It’s something that’s integral to so many, and in the kind of narratives I watch it’s usually some kind of boogie man or metaphor for a system of control. Thing is, belief is something we all have whether religious, spiritual or systemic. While much of the cultural climate depicts faith as an outmoded concept, for so many it isn’t. Ramy, from the one episode I saw, manages to depict the struggles of living a modern Western life, balanced with the demands of personal faith. Specifically with the Muslim faith, I’m so naive as to what it means in a mundane context. How does it change dating? Work? Social interactions? Does it even affect those things? Is it possible to package all that into a hilarious, heartfelt show that’s immensely accessible? It looks like Ramy may well have those answers.

So I guess that other stack can wait.