Good news! No more endless commentary on FB where not all of you feel like reading it!
No more notes that really ought to be blog posts!
No more excuses for not using the long-form, the blog is officially MOVED.
Good news! No more endless commentary on FB where not all of you feel like reading it!
No more notes that really ought to be blog posts!
No more excuses for not using the long-form, the blog is officially MOVED.
Wrote a little screed about finally receiving our HOA’s long-missing by-laws.
All I can say is bwaahahahahahahahaaaa!!!!
If you are a friend or reader with normal size canine teeth (and not disguised in grandma’s nightie, hoping for Red Riding Hood not to notice), e-mail me and I’ll send it to you.
As for the rest of you who think you can use what I write here to hurt me or my family, GFY (I believe that’s your preferred expression). Really, take your time and do it twice.
So I’m officially older now than I was four minutes ago, and it hit me: I am ridifuckinliculously LUCKY, to be who I am, where I am in life, with the family I have, the health I enjoy and living here–in the USA.
If I were 43 in many other parts of the world, I would either already be dead, dying, or not looking forward to a whole heckuva lot of good things in my future. If I hadn’t married until I was 36 in most other places, I sure as shit wouldn’t have three beautiful children born *after* that happy event, and if I’d even tried, chances are with the complications I had just the first go-around, I’d have died before the other two could have been conceived.
But even if we removed the hypothetical of me living in another country, what about just being someone else in THIS country? I don’t want to think about it, I really don’t. I am so blessed it terrifies me at times. Even with all my worries and compulsions and the problems I have (most of which are self-induced), I *still* wouldn’t trade places with anyone.
So today, I just want to take a moment to thank God–quite literally–for these last 43 years. The good, the bad, the ugly, the really really ugly, and everything awkwardly in between. There are things I wish I hadn’t gone through, but nothing I’d risk going back to change given the opportunity–not if it might (most likely) mean that my life today would be different than it is.
So thanks, Lord, I am–as you know–wholly unworthy of the abundance of riches with which you have blessed me, but please know that I will do my utmost for the next 43 years to endeavor to deserve what I’ve already received in the first.
Hey politicians! Even my kids know how to make the most of what they’ve got. They could have raided the neighbors’ yards for some more snow, but nooooooo! They just built a smaller snowman!
Think about it.
Can I just say how glad I am that I no longer live in the frigid north? My poor buddy Alois is freezing his butt off up there (in spite of Al Gore’s Global “Warming”) and it’s all I can do to function with the dry skin I’ve got from the dry cold down here in NC.
I have a whole new appreciation for why they pull fingernails off prisoners as a form of “torture.” I have a scar on my thumb that prevents my nail there from growing in properly, and whenever it breaks off at the quick (which it sometimes does with all the handy/crafty shit I do like sewing/baking/painting whole rooms for the heck of it…) it takes forever to grow back enough to cover the corners that ALWAYS crack open.
If you’re not familiar with cracked fingers–especially that opposable thumb you probably take for granted–trust me, you are one lucky bastard! It is the worst. Try pressing car seat straps in when the tip of your thumb is cracked open…Or how about changing a cloth diaper with Velcro closures? And then there’s the ever-popular opening of a flip-top can of soup or fruit which gives you the double-torture of pressure AND acid sting!
If you think this is trivial, trust me, it’ not. When you’re a mom with three kids, two of whom spend their days in the germ-infested world of preschool, one of whom is potty-training, and one of whom is still full-on in diapers, washing your hands becomes somewhat of an obsession. My husband has suggested gloves, but seriously? Do I want to feel like the counter people at Subway all day? And did you know those gloves dry your skin out TOO? Yeah, it’s true. Then there’s the waste of having to throw them out after touching yucky stuff because really they don’t wash off very well, you almost always get water underneath them and that’s a whole new brand of irritation (eek).
Yeah, so if I had this AND bone-chilling cold to deal with, I would not be too functional. That would be a major problem because you see, I’m figuring out (and it only took 7 months, woo hoo!) that having three kids is really NOT as easy as people
said lied that it would be! All our friends and relatives with three said “Oh yeah, it’s easier than going from one to two, trrrrrrrrust us!” Lying liars they were! OK, so it’s not “hard” in the sense that you have a clue this time, not just about having kids period, but about having more than one kid–you know, multi-tasking, divide-and-conquer, that sort of stuff–but it is way harder in terms of the fact that human beings are not insects, we only have TWO ARMS. What that means is, for the next couple of years at least, there will be times (too many to count per day in fact) where I will be trying to get through my day without hands anyway, cracked or silky soft! Ever bathe another human being with one hand? How about TWO human beings who aren’t remotely interested in cooperating with your efforts? Now try it with a 17 pound squirming sometimes crying infant in your other arm.
Get the picture?
Here’s another one (my favorite really). Picture the same squirming infant (crying or not, it hardly matters) in one arm while you attempt to have a vital phone conversation about your power being out while making lunch for yourself with one hand (and you’re really hungry). And people wonder why new moms have trouble losing weight? Do you know how much easier it would be for me to just grab a fistful of this and a fistful of that with that one hand? Yeah yeah, I know I’m supposed to have “this and that” be pre-cut veggies and healthy cheese cubes and shit right? OK, and when does THAT get done exactly? At night? Oh, you mean in between “Maaaaaaahmeeeeee, I have to go PEEEEEE!” or the ever popular “Maaaaaahmeeee, she’s kicking me/taking my lovey/coming in my bed/BAAAAAHTHURING MEEEEEE!”
Good thing I have to go up and down stairs to deal with this crap because otherwise I really would be a lardass by now!
Lest you think I’m complaining, I’m not. I’m just saying that I suddenly have this whole new appreciation for things I used to roll my eyes at even with two children! I used to think nothing could keep me from vacuuming and cleaning bathrooms weekly, I mean come on, those are the bare minimum to keeping a clean house right? HA! Add a third child and you have a choice: never sleep, or sleep in a messy house, or I suppose you could give up eating or bathing or keeping up with current events or some other thing you like to do, it’s all about priorities. But the point is, I used to think there were few excuses for not being able to do it ALL, especially for a stay-at-home-mom.
Now I know, there were probably excuses before, I just wouldn’t let myself make them, so intent was I on over-achieving and not letting kids change my life THAT much (sure, let them change my heart and soul forever, but dammit, my counters would be clutter-free and my bathrooms sanitized).
So I guess what I’m trying to say is, when you see a woman (or man for that matter) with three kids in tow, and one is screaming and another is pouting and one is just trying to run away, don’t think “What’s WRONG with that woman? Can’t she control her kids?” And for the love of all that is holy, do NOT say “Bless your heart” to her when what you really mean is “Honey, why don’t you just GO HOME” and think instead: “WOW! She actually left the HOUSE? You GO GIRL!!”
Then remind yourself that this woman–if her kids are small–probably spends her days with people whose idea of stimulating discourse is as follows:
Daughter: “Mama? You know what happened today when I was picking my nose behind the bookcase at preschool?”
Me: (shocked and appalled that sweet little pink-loving girl picks her nose period, never mind wants to DISCUSS IT) “Uh, NO, but why were you picking your nose in the first place? I told you to use a Kleenex!”
Daughter: “I know, I know Mama, but I was SOOO hungry in that moment that I went digging for gold…”
Me: (struggling not to laugh and/or spit water out my nose)
Daughter: “Well, I musta dug too hard because I found blood instead.”
What’s the matter? Doesn’t that sound like fun to you? No?
Now add cracked fingers on top of it all….Hey, maybe that’s the answer! Maybe instead of things like waterboarding and pulling fingernails, we should opt for forcing terrorists to listen to our kids for a few hours, or maybe we should send them on a shopping excursion with three kids under the age of 6, after feeding them all the sugar they can eat and making them miss nap?
It’s brilliant isn’t it? Hey, if I had the option to avoid that if I coughed up a few details about a dirty bomb or a hijacking plot, you bet I would, in a red-hot second I would!
I’ve figured it out, why I haven’t been blogging that much (er, at all really, let’s face it): the world is so screwed up it’s downright boring right now. What I mean is that sometimes the fucked-up-ness of things can reach critical mass and writing anything more about it–no matter how piquant or insightful–only adds to the pain. Let’s face it, as much as we’ve seen (and heard about) the “power” of the blogosphere, there’s only so much we can do when things are THIS bad. After all, despite our hard work and vigilance these past eight years, even our own side ignored us completely!
Any-hoo….Reading Rachel’s blog has inspired me to change mine. Hers has become more of a blog about herself and, on occasion her very personal reaction to some of the political shit (which is fundamentally different from the usual “Hey, look what this dipshit said today, let me rip him a new one in print and try to be oh-so-clever while I’m doing it!” or “And now for your reading pleasure, the contents of my spleen!”).
Aside from being a whole lot easier and more fluid to write, this kind of content–I discovered–is a whole lot more interesting (and less depressing) to READ! So I figured, if *I* think it’s more interesting to read about her reaction to Don Cheadle in “Traitor” (a movie I also adored) and what she personally liked about the depictions of Muslims in it (as opposed to what she thinks others should think about that, or what she thinks others should think about what others think about that), I’m betting other people will too!
More importantly, I’d much rather write stuff like that than sit here NOT writing anything because I can’t bring myself to be just one more person yelling into the eye-wall of a hurricane!
In the words of Caroline Kennedy, “you know??”
Therefore I have decided to let Rachel’s example inform the content of insomnomaniac.com for 2009. Oh I’m sure I won’t be able to avoid writing about politics entirely, but from now on I’m going back to my roots–back to just blogging about STUFF. You may find it intersting or entertaining, you may not, I’m going to stop worrying about that. I’m a mom with three kids under the age of six, one of whom is just now potty-training, another is still in diapers and nursing. I’ll start *officially* homeschooling in the fall, and I run a discussion website in my not-so-very-copious “free time” and you already know I don’t sleep much.
On top of all that I’ve developed a serious addiction to sewing cute little girl outfits out of funky prints (pictures of which I’d much rather put here to share with you than pictures of idiot politicians or celebrities), and I’ve even taken to sewing my own cloth diapers (who said conservatives couldn’t be crunchy?). In short, I’m too busy to force myself to recycle the same “stories” about the lives of other people.
Rachel is moving to the UK (God bless her, I’m still trying to picture her disarmed. It’s a terrifying thought really…), but thank God for the Internet because I know I’ll want to keep reading about her “stuff” and as always, I’m just grateful that she’s out there to remind hacks like me not to take ourselves too seriously.
Case in point? How can I think about the state of the world when my five year-old just came into my room to seek comfort after a nightmare? Now she’s snuggled in looking for reassurance. How reassuring could I be if I spent a lot of time thinking about (never mind writing about) the shitstorm we are in right now?
Answer? Not very.
I do good work, don’t you think?
Wow, is it June already? And I haven’t posted since April? Egads…That is bad. Sorry….
Well I have a decent excuse anyway. Aside from putting more effort into my discussion and debate site than I probably should have, I’ve been busy gestating a third little insomnomaniac!
Catherine Elizabeth was born June 3 at 3:21 p.m. weighing in at 9 lbs. 2 oz. and measuring 21 inches in length. Now most of you who don’t know me wouldn’t know that this data ought to make your eyes pop right out of your head. Picture this: I started this pregnancy at 5’2″ and 105 lbs approximately (a size 0-2). I finished it at the same height (duhr) but weighing in at 153 lbs.
Yeah, a whole lotta that was baby and associated goo that supports baby in utero, and wearing it all on the front of my body for that long took its toll. Imagine strapping a medicine ball to your core and carrying it around for several months…Got that picture firmly in your brain? Sound like fun? No? Yeah? WELL I DIDN’T THINK SO EITHER! The only consolation of course was that at some point it wouldn’t be there, and in its place would be a beautiful addition to my family. But let me tell you, time can pass v e r y s l o w l y when you’re waiting for good stuff to replace really not so very good stuff.
In fact, for the past month I was on bed rest, not because of her really, but because I had this charming condition known as Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. I had a “severe” case of it and while not confined to a wheelchair, I was pretty much confined to bed when I didn’t absolutely have to be up and about. In the last two weeks, I was a daily visitor to the chiropractor because I couldn’t envision even trying for natural childbirth (or vaginal birth period) with this much pain going into labor, and thank GOD for this guy! He was a miracle worker. I would shuffle in, and walk out. OK, maybe it wasn’t “walking” like I usually do, but it wasn’t crawling or shuffling like a 90 year-old woman either, so that’s something!
But I hope that explains the lack of posts as well. It’s just really hard to blog when you’re laid-out like a beached whale, begging God for mercy and an early labor.
Oh, and that’s the other irony of this whole thing! I went into this pregnancy terrified of another early induction due to premature rupture of membranes (I belong to that exclusive club of women who’ve been through it at all–only happens to 4% of us–much less TWICE IN A ROW). I was bound and determined not to have that happen and to go into labor naturally. So I researched the whole topic and found out that Vitamin C makes for strong sacs, and I took it–religiously–every day. Ate my weight in oranges too.
So what happened? I went LATE. Yup, third baby, and she was overdue by 2 days! Go figure! We were so sure she’d be at least 2 weeks early–even the OB and midwife were sure of it. I was measuring big-for-dates from the beginning, and with my history, it was just assumed I’d never make it to forty weeks. Heck, we planned childcare and budget around it (let that be a lesson to you all! I forgot, there’s nothing that makes God laugh louder than telling him your PLANS).
Thankfully, the chiropractor I see is an expert in jump-starting labor using accupuncture, so on my due date, when the ultrasound tech told me my baby was between 9 and 10 lbs, I made a b-line for his office and said “Do what you gotta do Doc! I am NOT going another day and risking c-section because this baby is too big to come out of this dysfunctional pelvis of mine!”
He did, and I did, and she did, and thankfully the rest is just a birth story!
I’d love to tell you it was intervention/chemical-free, but it wasn’t. I tried though, I really did! Twelve hours I tried, but only made it to 6 cm on my own. My lovely strong sac was so full of fluid that even as large as she was, she just kept bobbing back up in there like an apple in a tub of water. Breaking the water wasn’t an option because she was too far up there and we could have been looking at cord prolapse (which is a life-threatening situation for the baby). The pain was so bad and went on for so long (largely because of the pelvic thing), that I ended up having to get an epidural just to relax the muscles that would be needed to push her out if I got that far. And that slowed my labor because all the fluids they have to give you to keep your blood pressure from dropping dilute your oxytocin levels to the point where contractions get weaker and/or slow down (in my case, both). And that means we needed pitocin to jack them back up where they needed to be.
So I was right back where I started I guess, BUT for a lot less time. Instead of hours and hours of that crap coursing through my veins (and my baby’s) I only had it for about 2 hours, and then blam! It was time to push!
Pushing is something I am great at, and this was no exception. I pushed for 45 min and POP, out came my beautiful BIG baby girl in compound presentation (head AND fist first) with nuchal cord (around her neck). How great is that? My baby, born waving a fist at the world?? I love it!
She is beautiful, and healthy and we are very blessed and happy (and tired and sore).
So if I’m not posting for a little while longer, perhaps you will also understand. Because since I haven’t endured enough physical discomfort long enough, I’m also breastfeeding and for those of you who’ve never done that, all I can say is, during those first couple of weeks you have a lot of opportunities to scream out “KELLY CLARKSON” a la Steve Carrell in 40 Year-old Virgin (chest waxing scene). If you aren’t already laughing, I suggest you review that film, you’ll get it soon enough.
In the meantime, all I can say is, if I had to compare all that I’ve been through and am going through still to the pain of watching the Presidential Campaign coverage (and trying to blog about it on anything resembling a regular basis), I’d have to say I got the better end of the deal, by a VERY WIDE MARGIN!
Yeah, all three of you who actually read this drivel!
Any-hoo….Here’s the update:
- Still pregnant, 14 weeks now, almost 15 actually
- Not sick anymore, turned the corner just in time to devour enough Turkey and trimmings (and pie) to gain ALL the weight I didn’t gain (or gain back that which I lost, give or take a pound or two) in the previous 12 weeks.
- Current craving? Haagen Dasz chocolate, got any for me?
- CVS test results: am carrying one chromosomally healthy baby girl. Yes, you read correctly, I am having yet another girl, proving again that God has a sick sense of humor. Spend my life as a tomboy, very few female friends, not even all that sure I’m that wildly crazy about women frankly (well, some of them are marvelous, but as a gender, we have some pretty irritating traits, fondness for gossip and pink and pretending to be nice amongst them), and then I have the privilege of giving birth to not one, not two, but THREE of them, two of whom are, so far, the coolest people I know!
- Yes, we’ve picked a name. This is me remember? Where would I be if I had to endure not knowing her name for the next 6 months? I’m supposed to refer to her as “hey you” or something? Oh, what is it? Her name will be Catherine Elizabeth, Cate for short.
- No, you may not *remind* me that John Edwards has a daughter by the same name. I’m well aware of it, and I don’t really care. A great name is a great name.
- Politically I’m not asleep at the wheel here, just not posting b/c I’m not sure where to start after such a long hiatus (isn’t it always the way?). I suppose I could just START, but honestly, I’m a little weary of the whole mess right now. It’s the holiday season, I’m enjoying the whole decorating/baking/gift buying and wrapping gig with my kids–I might actually be ready in time this year–and turning on the news or reading it online is a buzz kill most days. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open though, and if anything happens that trips my trigger, you’ll be the first to know. Until then, just picture me dancing around like a fool to Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas” (my girls love it, sue me) and baking cookies like the good little conservative Hausfrau I pretend to be. That will either make you laugh or puke, but given how many calories you’re likely to consume in the coming weeks, I’ll still be providing a service either way (yes, even laughing burns calories).
Ordinarily, I don’t feed trolls, but when it’s this easy to use them as examples of the mental illness known as “leftardedness” I can’t resist–it *is* like bobbing for water.
And since my darling little troll calls himself Bob, so much the better!
So in case you were at risk of actually believing that left-wing nutters actually “care” about their fellow humans, or that they really are “tolerant” souls who can teach us judgmental conservatives a thing or three, witness his charming assessment of my situation:
What are you whining about? You did the “nasty” and you knew it’s consequences- unlike us baby-killing liberals who only know how to hate everything sacred to neoconservatives and blind- I mean “true”- believers.
So sex between two consenting MARRIED adults is “the nasty” is it? So what is it between a man and a boy? Might want to call your pals at the ACLU and have a little chat with them about their representation of NAMBLA, unless of course your hatred of everything sacred includes a hatred of basic decency. For my part, I can’t see anything “nasty” about two committed adults having sex.
But it is good to see that you have a realistic understanding of who the real “babykillers” are (hint: NOT the US military as I’m sure Bob would’ve mentioned if he weren’t so busy analyzing my sex life). By the way, liberals wouldn’t have earned that label if they really knew the consequences of “the nasty” as you put it. So who is it who’s confused about how babies are made? Or are you admitting that killing unborn babies is something liberals have so little problem doing that they don’t bother to consider those consequences relevant at the time, their own pleasure being foremost on their minds (as per usual)?
And by the way, where in that post did I mention that I was a “true believer” (whatever that is) or a “neocon” (something I am not and have never been, neocons being those who took a traditinonally DEMOCRAT interventionist approach and sold it to previously conservative isolationist types like Bush)? I am neither.
Oh, I am a believer, if it’s Jesus Christ we’re talking about here. But I’m not a biblical literalist who thinks my shit don’t stank. Never have been, never will be. Not that Bob would know this, being that he’s too consumed with hatred and too obsessed with stereotypes and cliches that he indiscriminantly applies to anyone who has anything remotely nice to say about our soldiers or the war in Iraq (a policy I have criticized more than once, recently in fact, on this very site). I guess Bob is an all-or-nothing kinda guy. Either you’re for the war or you’re against it. You can’t be of two minds about it, depending on the day, there are no “nuances,” there’s good and evil, bad guys and good guys….Sound familiar? Hey Bob, LOOK IN THE FUCKING MIRROR HYPOCRITE, life, just like the war, isn’t black and white. Sheesh, you’d think someone who probably voted for John Kerry would know this.
Why don’t you summon up some of that will power- you know- like the type that is going to sustain us through record budget deficits and long-term military failure in the Middle East- and apply it to keeping your legs closed. Pray that none of your off-spring have to fight in the civil war in Iraq that we unleashed with our poorly-thought-out invasion of a
basket-case “nation”. Thanks Rumsfeld!
OK, first of all, my name isn’t Donald, or Rumsfeld, it’s DEB. I didn’t start the war (and neither did he by the way–Congress, including many prominent Democrats, had a say in that, if you recall). As for civil war in Iraq, what civil war? No, seriously! In order to have a civil war you have to have enough order and structure to the government in the first place that people are rebelling against. That’s not the state of the state in Iraq. Sectarian violence in pockets, spurred by foreign terrorist threats and intimidation (not to mention MONEY and criminal activity) is hardly a “civil war.” The average Iraqi is just trying to get through each day alive, they are by no means preoccupied with either the overthrow of the government or the ousting of the US forces. Perhaps if you read something other than Daily Kos or the HuffPo you would know this. Try Michael Yon or some of the other independent journalists who are actually THERE, on the ground, reporting on what’s really going on there, then tell me about the “civil war” in Iraq.
And way to indict every single Iraqi too! They are a “basket case of a ‘nation’” in quotes? So you’re saying they weren’t even a country when we invaded them? So what’s all this tripe about us violating international law by invading a “sovereign nation” unprovoked then? Either they were or were not a “nation,” but you can’t have it both ways. I also think it’s pretty cold of you to refer to the whole country as a basket case as if they’re not worth anyone worrying about. So what about the Sudan? Should we write them off as a “basket case” too? Just leave the people there to be slaughtered because they’re so chaotic? What about the Balkans? Should we have kept our noses out of there too? I can’t think of a place more riddled with civil war and more resembling a “basket case” when we started dropping bombs on them from 30,000 feet than there! Oh right, that was a liberal Democrat’s war, meant to distract us from the President’s oh-so-savvy judgment as to where he should park his penis when his charming wife was out of sight, so that was OK. Nothing to see there, move along….
As for budget deficits, funny thing about those, they aren’t solely the result of war spending, they are the result of SPENDING SPENDING. A deficit makes no distinction. So if you’re saying that we shouldn’t be borrowing money hand over fist, I agree with you, but if you’re saying the only place we need to cut is on military spending, I beg to differ. No one has been more critical of Bush’s profligate spending than I. New medicare entitlements to the tune of hundreds of billions? Yeah, not my idea! A brand new, utterly useless department known as “Homeland Security?” Also not my idea. Not to mention half a dozen other massive expenditures that I didn’t approve of. I’m a CONSERVATIVE, not a Bushbot. Perhaps you ought to familiarize yourself with the difference.
As for the discipline it will take to get through whatever economic downturn will come when the next (probably Democrat) President comes into office and decides that the way back to fiscal solvency is to tax the middle class to death, I think I’ve got it. I’m not the one sitting her dependent on the government for my housing, food, medical care and education. I have 2/3 equity in my house and a 30 year fixed mortgage–no sub-prime or variable sucker here! We also SAVE money, unlike most Americans, especially those standing with their hands out demanding their “fair share” from the government, whether they earned it or not. So I think we’ll be OK. We may not live large, and we may have to tighten the belts somewhat, but we’ll be just fine, so no need for your “concern.”
As for my offspring, considering the first two are girls, I highly doubt they’ll be drafted to go to any war, but if things got so bad that they were, you know what? If I were able to walk, I’d probably go with them, gun in hand, ready to fight and yes, to die for my country. In the meantime, I’m just damn grateful there are Americans who are smarter, braver and more willing to make sacrifices than the average narcissistic liberal like you Bob. They’re over there now, they’ll be over there next year, and probably the year after that, and it won’t matter a whit whose ass is spreading in the desk chair in the Oval Office, we won’t be out of Iraq, or the region, probably for the rest of my lifetime (or yours). We’re still in Korea and Europe for crying out loud, what would make anyone expect otherwise?
Oh, and as for your latest missive:
Not only are you a dumb slut, but you make Anne Coulter look lovable. I
hope you puke in your husband’s mouth.
Again, I’m not sure how a married woman can be described as a “slut” for sleeping with her own husband. Must be that weird reverse morality you libtards have, where you’re only “real” or a good person if you whore around with other people’s husbands, take your clothes off in public (or on MySpace), or confine your sexual activity to random hookups you’ve just met. As for making Ann Coulter look lovable, what can I say? Anything I can do to help Ann’s image is fine by me! As long as people are going to act like she speaks for all conservatives, all the time, might as well improve her image, it can only help people like me in the end. (rolls eyes)
Finally, my husband thanks you for your well-wishes and says he longs for the day when I’m willing and well enough to go near his mouth again with my own. He says little puke would be a small price to pay for the ecstasy that results from one of my kisses. Probably the reason I ended up in this condition in the first place wouldn’t you say? It sure wasn’t a result of how repulsive I am.