The likely suspects...

Focusing elsewhere, focusing elsewhere. Taking my mind off things. Relax. Deep Breath. Enny had a great idea, do you reckon I can get my Dad to dump him by proxy? (Also, Hack, you are right).

More pictures of fucking ice, hey?!





NOTE: Possible 2007 Big Brother Friday Night Games Apparatus

If anyone decides to ever have a text message conversation with me again, ever, I will seriously kill them with the very phone their messages are coming from.

*Cries*

Self Portrait



BRING BACK THE ICE

Cold.

What makes the Antartic, and the Artic, so cold? Colder than anywhere else on Earth. Or at least icy-er. Why do those particular spots, at the top, and the bottom of the earth, get to be the coldest? I don't like it one little bit.

Also. How come we just don't get one of those big fuck off icebergs and put it in the Thompson damn - so we can at least have more than 60 days of water left? We could tow one to shore, then chop it up into manageable bits, and drop it in.

Look, I'm not a logistical planner, okay.

Another Journal Entry

Okay, I pissed him off with my 'cold' text messages, and ruined his holidays, now he won't talk (message me) to me and while it's hurting my chest now, I'm secretly hoping he dumps me SO I CAN GET RID OF THIS FUCKHEAD FOR GOOD.

I was trying hard to stay really cool about it (him going away), but I guess whenever I've replied to his text messages, I've sounded somewhat bitchy.

At first, I was pissed off, because when he asked me to go, and I said I couldn't afford it, I thought he might have paid for my accomodation, and I could have paid for my airfaires. Easy. But really, stupid thing to think, so can't justify being pissed off about it.

Now I just realise that it pisses me off, that as a 28 year old man, he is quite happy just to go away with his 25 year old brother, and his parents, for a holiday. And have fun. And not even worry about me, or say he is going to miss me. He is more than happy to do this. It really should come at no surprise, considering he is more than happy to cut short our Sundays together, so he can get home by 6pm to have dinner at his parents' house, EVEN THOUGH HE HAS DINNER WITH THEM EVERY FUCKING OTHER DAY OF THE WEEK.

***

So, considering I'm a bit twisty in the heart this morning, I had left over mexican and cookies & cream ice-cream for breakfast. Now, I am going to sit on my new couch, and get some work (real) done. And decide if I can be bothered going out tonight. I hate going out of the house now. I am a hermit.

Lame post about being f*cked over by stupid boyfriend again.

I feel sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick

Stupid boyfriend has gone on a holiday without meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

There's nothing s'prising about that I guess. I should stop complaining because I only do it to myself.

How about I go out on Saturday night, get totally liquored up, and find the man of my dreams?

I totally want to get home at 8am, after pashing the face some off the future Mr. Martie.

Seriously, I'd give up Career, I'd give up New Couch, I'd give up Microwave Popcorn, if I could only bloody find someone that respected me, had time for me, loved me.

There are some kilos to go until I have the confidence of going at it alone. And as much as my man-desperation goes, I'd much rather go it alone, because I'm just beginning to see what type of person I am, and form proper opinions and views, and IT'S EXCITING, DUDE!

I think they call it growing up.

I prefer to call it growing into myself.

But I would very much like someone to say that they loved me, just once. It's been over three years since someone said that to me, and apparently I've been in some sort of relationship for two of them.

Is this emo? Fuck, I hope not. This is just me having trouble expressing myself, because my stomach is doing somersaults, and has been since 7am this morning when his plane left.

I hate hearts. I like kissing much more.

A bit of cash, a bit of flash

I stayed up until 3am last night, putting my clothes away. You might think that's tragic, for a Friday night, but believe me, I had a lot of friggin' clothes to put away. My whole wardrobe basically sits on the washing line, in the washing hamper, in the washing machine, in the dryer, and on the couch and chairs. The actual wardrobe is pretty much bare.

Anyhow, I was happy. Well, not overly happy, because I didn't have any dinner, but I did get to watch Ocean's 12. Then I watched the Timber Community's finest hour; Demi Moore & Michael Douglas in Disclosure, then I happened to change channel and catch most of a movie called "Ghost in the Computer".

The basic premise was a serial killer that stole people's address books died, but when he was having an MRI, his 'soul' got left in the computer system, and he continued to terrorise his next victim though electronic things. IE - computers, dishwashers, etc. Don't you love how when computers were such a big deal, hopeful technology movies like this were made. I mean, for reals, a 'soul' stuck in a computer system, that is killing people? LAME.

However, being 3am in the morning, one's mind does begin to wander; IE - there is a serial killer in my courtyard; I'm too scared to turn the light out; I'm really fucking hungry, I wish I ate dinner. And what it did, was force me to take stock of all the potentially life threatening appliances that share my apartment with me.

Lights; phone; hairdryer; hair straightener (EWWW); fan; kettle; TV; dryer; blender (DOUBLE EWW). I wondered if I would have nightmares about all the appliances just walking towards me in a group. Don't let anyone tell you that electrical items are not dangerous - LISTEN TO THE WARNING KIDS.

As a pleasant aside from all the death and destruction in the movie , two kids paid their babysitter $37 to unbutton her shirt, so they could get a little boob action. One even put a cushion over his groin. They weren't that good.

My point is though, isn't that expensive? Change into Australian rates, and that's like $60 for a titty flash, not even out of the bra. I thought you could pay about $50 for the pleasure of snorting a line of cocaine off some chick's tits while you fucked her friend at Hosies'? Or is that just me?

So, that's quite good money, I don't think I'd be adverse to that at all. A bit of cash, a bit of flash, and we're done. No mess, no fuss, no unexplained sticky bits. Although a friend did point out to me that they could get it for free on a Saturday night when I'm out on the pull, so I'll just have to come up with some other get rich quick scheme.

Rub me the right way

And thus ends possibly the most sensual, and best sexed, weekends that I've ever had...

************************************************

Plenty to do this week! Lunch with clients tomorrow! Career planning seminar on Tuesday! Loooooooooong Luncheon on Thursday! New Couch to arrive on Saturday! Stuff to be done to car! More sex on weekend!

Actually, I shouldn't be punctuating with '!'. These are the marks of someone that is happy. I'm not. One of my close friends has a tumor on her inner ear. My best friend hasn't spoken to me for three weeks. My apartment is resembling a chinese laundry...there are clothes in the washing basket; there are clothes hanging from my fan; there are clothes on the washing line; there are clothes in the dryer; there are clothes all over my couch and chairs; there are clothes on my bedside table. I just couldn't be fucked putting them away.

I want to lounge of a beach somewhere until I feel good about myself again, then come back and kick ass.

However, if I wanted to cheat my way out of the mental energy this would take, I'd rub some sort of bottle and ask the genie:

1 - To weigh 77 kilos. I don't want to lose my body shape, just tone up the areas that I hate. Also, 7 is my favourite number. Double 7, and I'm blowing in my undies.

2 - To win a fortune in tattslotto. Enough to be able to pay for my mum & dad in retirement, make sizeable donations to animal shelters and charities, buy my brother and I houses, and live comfortably. So yeah, $33M should do nicely.

3 - This is a tough one. One more wish left. I've done the obvious, lose weight, more money, but where to go with this one. What would make me truly happy? Permanently tanned? Be able to speak French fluently? Maid to put washing away? No. I just want friends. I want mates that I can go for a drink with. Mates that I can go shopping with. Mates that will come over with a bottle of wine for a dinner party. Mates that will be there for me, and who I can be there for too.

Sounds sick and depressing, doesn't it? But a girl can't get by on good sex alone.

The post that's not a post

I apologise for not blogging lately. I'm kinda over my life. NOT in an emo-i-hate-myself-and-want-to-die sort of a way, more like a there's-nothing-out-of-the-ordinary-happening-to-me-that-I-want-to-blog-about sort of a way.

Actually, I did want to sit down and let out all my feelings on one particular topic. But animal cruelty isn't the blog post of choice, I guess. Unless some dog is going to fight in the Iraq war, or a little kitten is going to run in the upcoming federal election, it's just not trendy. It's just that there's been a spate of cruelty reports in media the last week or so; whether it's an increase in cruelty, or whether the media is hot to trot on the topic, I'm not sure.

But consider this:

* LUNATIC (ex-vet, mind you), has been clearly underfeeding her horses for years, and is only now saying it is because of the drought. Distressing footage of malnourished, own shit eating, horses and crazy woman who is doing this to them. If you can't feed them, give them to someone who can.

* MORON puts two kittens in a plastic container with THE LID ON and leaves them on a vet's doorstep overnight. Luckily, they were nursed back from near-dehydration and are/were up for adoption. CAN PEOPLE NOT USE THEIR BRAINS???

* IDIOT leaves a 16 year old dog, fretting for it's dead owner, on an animal shelter's doorstep overnight, because they have inherited the dog, and can't look after it. Which is fair enough - BUT WHY DUMP IT AT NIGHT. FUCK. The piece in the Herald-Sun today, although it probably wins the award for most emotive language, about how the dog was scared in it's new surroundings (concrete cage), made me want to leave work right there and then and go adopt it.

* FUCKHEAD dog stealers are stabbing people and throwing dogs around, just because of their breed. ANIMALS ARE NOT COMMODITIES (except for Minks, as our Friend, Lillian Frank tells us, that Minks are farmed, therefore it is okay to wear a mink coat. Good stuff, Lil).

* And last but definitely not least, CUNTY CUNT MCCUNT CUNTOS decide they will make their dog attack a guide dog. Real fucking heroes, aren't they. It's bad enough that it costs $25,000 to train a guide dog, and it's even worse that the blind owner and the dog had a five year bond. The worse thing is, the guide dog may have suffered psycological trauma, in this case, rendering it unfit for guide work anymore. ALSO, DID I MENTION IT MAY HAVE SUFFERED PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA?

You know what would be fun? If I saw those clowns, and let the sharpest knife in my kitchen loose on them. Specifically, on their balls (if they actually have any), and then make them eat them, a la person in Hannibal eating their own brains for dinner (WHOOPS SPOILER). Except they are so fucking concious, that not even half of a coked up Hollywood could be anymore alert than them.

So yeah. I'd like to write a post about this, and tell you how I really feel. But if I was going to do that, all I'd really need to tell you is that it breaks my heart. And may some sort of God help anyone that I catch being cruel to animals.

Wild Card, draw four

If you see someone on the train, calling their mobile phone a cunt, and generally looking pissed off, don't be alarmed kiddies.

It's just ME, being totally absorbed into the mobile phone game of UNO.

Yeah, I don't get out much.

Except for this weekend; they are letting me out on Friday AND Saturday night. Someone have an ambulance standing by; my heart might not be able to keep up with all this FUN I am supposed to be having.

Mind you, I could very well end up in a dark corner playing UNO...

Challenge II - Relationship

Not so long ago, I was listening to the couple next door making the loud and gushy secks.

Today, I stood next to possibly the best looking bloke I have ever seen in real life, and was momentarily stunned.

I spoke at length with the 19 year old genius in our team, about what he was going to do for his girlfriend for V'day. He's taking her on a weekend away - he's taking her out to dinner and buying her some flowers on actual V'day - he's going to buy her a 'surprise' present of a couple of gold bangles to give to her on a random day -nothing specialm just 'because'. All this, before her birthday in March.

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Well, GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

How is it, that this doesn't appear for me? Instead, I'm still 'marking time' with some clown that will spend V'day going out to dinner with his parents (Wednesday is their 'going out to dinner night').

***

As my Dad likes to constantly remind me; 2007 is my 'getting rid of' year. I've gotten rid of my car, now all I have to do is get rid of some weight, get my self confidence back, and get rid of 'other' things in my life. The 'other' he refers to, is the 'relationship person' I'm always banging on about. He won't say his name, because he can't stand him. Good old Dad.

And yes kids, Dad's are always right. I know exactly what I have to do. To be spoken in more depth in Challenge III - Losing Weight, but I know that all I have to do is drop the excess that I've been carrying since I gave up all serious sport, and I'll be sexy, confident Martie again. The one that probably would have paid for this guy's coffee card and left my business card for Mocha Genius Man to pass on next time.

The one that would open all her doors and windows so the whole suburb could hear the sexing going on in her apartment (all night).

The one who would be taken out for a nice dinner on V'day, and would be organising a performance of Carmen Electra Striptease for her man, for dessert.

The one who would have told the relationship moron to GET FUCKED, a long bloody time ago.

***

I was actually mucking around with my blog template (again) on the weekend, and got stuck reading all my archives for want of a better and less narcissistic thing to do. It actually charts my whole relationship with the relationship person, from how nervous I was before our very first date, to lusty weekends away, to GOD DAMN FUCKING DRESSING GOWNS, to finally the absolute dropping of any pretence that he was interested in participating in a relationship, unless it suited him at the time. I was good, I was strong for a while, but single life can be cruel to a girl with a weak will, and hasn't experienced it in a long time.

BOOOOO MARTIE.


I'd really like a nice white gold bangle (or two), that I could wear with my watch. Please God, are you there, it's me, Martie.

Challenge I - Money

My head is all full of thoughts. It's a jumble of boys, relationships, money, renting, family. I know this here blog is meant to be a capture of those thoughts, but I can never write them eloquently enough. And I don't really have any funny anecdotes about myself, or amusing things happen to me, so it's a waste of space sometimes.

My life really stooped to new lows the other night when I drank a bottle and a half of Baileys on a school night, and had to go to work the next morning with a huge hangover. Which used to be a not-uncommon-thing for me, but the alcohol always came from going out with friends, not drinking alone like some sad sack.

I can't even tell you what I'm stressing over the most, because it changes. Seemingly on the hour. First, it's money. Then it's my crusade to lose weight. Then it's my relationship. Then we're back to money, and so on.

As for money: I hate the stuff. I wish I could live in one of those hippy communes, where I could barter goats and grow vegetables, although I'll pass on the dreadlocks, ugly clothes and un-washed-ness, thanks.

I've just gotten rid of $15K debt, there is now $10K to go. Scary how one can get themselves into such situations, non? My next move will be to investigate the possibility of breaking my lease without having to pay anything, and horror of all horrors, finding a place with a flatmate.

Someone asked me the other day if I was ashamed because I was living outside my means, and now had to reign myself in. I felt like telling them to get fucked, but I'm not ashamed. It's not that having a nice car, and renting the place that I do was outside of my means, it's just that now my priorities have changed - IE - I want to go to Europe, and I want to buy a house. Not possible on my wage, plus owning a nice car, and renting what I've now found to be very expensive, apartment. It was good for me 18 months ago, but it's not right for me now.

So no, I'm not ashamed, I'm looking on it as an adventure. It will be hard - money falls through my fingertips, especially when there's shoes and clothes and boys around - but that's the challenge of it all. To Europe, either at the end of this year, or the start of 2008, and to a house, by the time I'm 30.

Although - and I have to ask the question - is it wise to spend $8000 on an overseas trip with someone that hasn't even said they loved you?

Being around this one 'relationship person' makes me feel so inadequate, because they have totally, and I mean totally, got their shit together when it comes to money. Mind you, they did have a helping hand when they were given the money to buy their house (the whole lot, not just a deposit), and, they did start on a graduate wage, not a traineeship wage, but then again, I could have done a lot more saving then pissing up all my wages on a weekend, y'know. The point is, I feel uncomfortable, and perhaps the lack of committment on the 'relationship person's' behalf, is the fact that I don't have it together, money wise.

However, we can only do what we can, and I have a budget, and a disciplinarian mother at hand to guide me through.

Sometimes, writing shit from your head can really help.


Next: Challenge II - Relationship

Tonight I bought car. No pics yet, will take some and upload when I pick it up.

But bugger the car. I'm having some Baileys to celebrate. And now, after a bottle of 'regular' Baileys, and half a bottle of 'mint-choc' Baileys, I'm somewhat drunk.

BUT NO. This is not going to be a drunk post. I would have had to visit some sort of dodgy pub and kiss a random, then come home after a taxi ride through the KFC drive thru to post something like that.

I'm just curious to see what people's favourite (alcoholic) drinks are. Mine is Baileys on ice. Even in a dodgy pub. After I've had my fill of vodka/lime/sodas, I get on the Baileys. For some reason it makes me feel sexy. Even while looking like a bag of shit.

Whatevs.

I'm not asking you to fuck me*, just tell me what your favourite drink is. Y'know what I'm talking about - the one that gets you horny, but not drunk enough that your performance is an issue.

And when the results are in, I will do a graph in excel, using the graph wizard and lots of pretty colours.


*NB - If your favourite drink is Bourbon & Coke, I don't know that I could fuck you anyway.


PS - I just re=read parts of this post )that I could read anyway). I think it may have been a drunk post. I'l know for sure in the morning.

The ridiculous wednesday-checking-mobile-phone post

I hate mobile phones so much. I want to throw mine out.

I leave mine on silent, because the noise it makes is obtrusive. But I hate having it on silent, because it makes me always check it, and I get upset/frustrated that I don't have a little envelope displayed for 'text message received'.

I reckon, in the past hour, I have checked my silent, cocksucking phone, about 30 times.

MADNESS.

Piss off back to Sweden, or wherever you came from, mobile phones.

***

One more car to look at tomorrow night. Hopefully, this is the one, because I am heartily sick of looking at cars. And sleazy dealers. Actual conversation had with local dealer last Saturday:

Dealer (while, washing car and smoking): "Do ya know what ya lookin' for love?"

Martie (withering glance): "Yeah. A car."


Ok, ok, I probably didn't need to be so aggressive but he pissed me off with the smoking thing, and his greasy hair, and the 'love' bit.

***

New Year's Resolution # 7534 isn't going that well. Oh look, it's a quarter to midnight, and I'm still awake/playing on computer. One of these days, I'm gonna go to bed before 10:30pm.

***

Approximately 12 more checks of my silent mobile phone whilst writing this post.

***

LOOK at what I found:

If it totally had a purple balloon on it, I'd be paying the $100 AUS or whatever the Great Britain exchange rate turned out to be just to get it. Probably couldn't wear it, because I'm not 18 and don't wear pinafores, but just to have it would be nice.

***

Speaking of feeling old: I feel just that. Lots of bloggers have BDO posts going, but not me. I've never been cool enough to go; and probably crowds/lines/noise/cunts with flags would piss me off anyhow. TIME TO STAY HOME AND HAVE A CUP OF TEA UNDER THE NANNA BLANKET.

***

Again, more on the subject of feeling old: At another car yard on Saturday, I was eagerly organising to test drive a Hyundai excel. Car Salesman says:
"It's a nice little first car. Did you just get your licence?"

I don't know if he was pulling bullshit manouveres to make the sale, or really dumb, or genuinely thought I was only 18. I'd like to go with the last option. I was looking in the mirror, and I really don't have any wrinkles. Hurrah! Maybe I can wear balloon necklace after all.

***

Since making a conscience effort not to check my phone after the last time, I have since checked two more times.

ALL OVER A MESSAGE I WAS MEANT TO GET AN HOUR AND A HALF AGO. GO TO SLEEP ALREADY.

***

DID I tell you...I went to Cold Rock. I took myself on a date there. Mind you, ended up a bit lost, but it was worth it. Fruit tingles in cookies'n'cream ice-cream? Banana and Milo ice cream with crushed nuts. OMG. Go there. Take me with you.
NB - Kezza, I don't think it is cosmopolitan enough for you ;-)

***

Ok, it's hit Wednesday, and officially ridiculous. It's bed time for me.

***

One last check before I go to sleep

Changes afoot.

Not really. Only because blogger made me change over before I knew it, so I decided to muck around with the colours somewhat. Yes, I have a penchant for purple. No, I do not think that makes me sexually frustrated; I think I was of 'royal' blood in a previous life.


NB: Also not a goth.

And in other news, Shane & Simone Warne seen 'canoodling' in Fiji

Reading about Kylie Minogue getting cheated on again is kinda depressing. She's cute, she's perky, she has a great bum, so why is it that every guy that she seems to hook up with, does the dirty on her?

I read somewhere that she is a bit of a control freak and a workaholic, which doesn't bode well for me, because that describes me to a 'T'. And if Kylie can't work it like that with what she's got, what hope is there for me?

***

What a weekend. Having swapped man hunting (roflcopter, etc), for car hunting, I've achieved absolutely zero. Except for some great sex, and a grey cardigan, and a clean house.

I'm still carless. As I sit here, looking at my purple bath towel, resting against my purple squishy pillow, thinking about my purple kitchen sponge, wearing my purple Bonds singlet, and my amethyst (purple FYI) ring, I contemplate WHY I DON'T OWN ANY PURPLE UNDERPANTS...

Woe is me; etc.

But the real reason I think is because...I want a purple car.

Thank fuck I'm not working tomorrow...I need to stay up all night trawling for purple cars.

I was made carless last night.

So unconditioned I am to not having a car around, it didn't occur to me NOT to walk home from Safeway when I bought ice cream. Or, just don't buy the ice-cream in the first place. EITHER / OR, either / or.

Apart from that RIVETING news, there's really nothing going on in my life right now. Sour romances are deperately trying to be sweetened again, with promises of european adventures; bellarine peninsula adventures; dinner, etc, but, what's the point? At the end of the day, he's still a teat sucking mama's boy, with no interest in making me part of his life, and I am a girl with a new couch (T minus 6.5 weeks and counting), and potentially a new car. One with a sunroof.

Also, I sat behind the hottest guy on the train yesterday; so float my boat did he, that I was furiously trying to come up with ways on how to 'introduce myself':

- I thought about telling him I liked his shirt
- I thought about telling him I liked his glasses
- I thought about accidentally falling forward and touching his back to 'steady'
myself, but the old bag next to me would have told him I was faking it. Sour old bitch.
- I thought about tapping him on the shoulder and saying 'Hi, I'm Martie/I think you're cute/ASL?

WHERE OH WHERE, WAS A BAR WITH SOME ALCOHOL WHEN I NEEDED IT?

So, cute boyman on Frankston line train, catching the 5.34 on 24th Jan, with blue & white striped shirt, glasses, brown-y/red-dish tinged, short hair and possibly what I saw was a Motorola RAZR, EMAIL ME!!!! I'm getting a new couch, and a sunroof.

Well Hello, Lady Luck

Shoot me down with a bundle of sticks!

I sold my car! I am one step closer to being debt free, and one step closer to Europe.

I had to come down a little from what I first listed it at, but it ended up being such a good bargain, that no one who saw it would resist. Although, I did burst into tears afterwards; I love my car, when else am I ever going to own something luxurious like that (Goodbye heated seats, my loves. I will cherish you forever)?

I am somewhat buoyed by the hunt I am now on, for a purple Hyundai excel. Hurrah! A purple car!

So. A weekend full of beach (OMG, I haven't fake tanned), Safeway roast chicken and relaxing. And last lovingly looks at my car. Until next time, enjoy yourselves...


PS - If it wasn't Hambo calling me last night, then who was it?

Hello Universe, stop fucking with me

Talk about tempting fate. The day after I post about The Ex Fucker (the one love of my life, previous to Jungle Boy, see incredibly lame Wednesday apology post), I get two missed calls on my mobile, from a private number.

He is the only person I know now that uses a private number, and that would ring this late at night (11pm).

[Unless it was you Hambo, ringing to tell me you were lost? What do I look like? A bloody Melways? NB - If it was you, pissed off you didn't leave me a voice msg, or something to identify you.]

Mysteries, mysteries. Who knows what the Lady Fate has in store for me...

Pincey,

I'm sorry I needled you so much, to try and make you crack the shits. It was wrong of me, and unhealthy for us. I guess I pushed my luck too hard just that one last time.

Pincess.

The Aftermath: My Fault

Perhaps I am the one who is not easy to put up with. Observe:

- I claim to be open to all sorts of music. However as soon as any Black Eyed Peas/Fergie comes on, I change/turn off the radio. Immediately.

- I watch the microwave, and always turn it off at 1:27 or 1:33 minutes/seconds to go. I also can only have volume controls on an odd number (preferably 17) and I always post my blog on an 'odd' time.

- I'm very sarcastic.

- I have no self-confidence. I get upset over computer screen savers featuring chicks in bikinis.

- I can be a little bit snobby. The centre of the universe is quite clearly, Bayside Melbourne. (Northland? *sniff* What kind of shops are there?).

- I have no legitimate savings of which to speak.

- I can be a little bit lazy sometimes (because who could really be fucked taking their undies out of the drier and folding them, when you can just grab a pair straight out of said drier in the morning?

- I'm indecisive because I'm always worried the other person won't like my decision.

- Maybe my apartment is good for one, but maybe too cramped for two. Also, there are dicks walking around here all the time at night (thanks to the train station), so maybe I would worry about my car too?

- I expect too much. (Do I? I don't know about this one. I don't expect marriage and babies, but I do expect a committment. Is this too much? Fuck, who knows).

Go away issue. I want to go to the D&D Ball, issue free.