There's a guy in my acting class who appears to be the incarnate of James Dean. Everday, he slicks his dark hair back with a "greasy" gel and I think he has a small comb he keeps in his pocket. Everyday, he wears a white T-shirt with a black leather jacket and dark blue jeans which he cuffs at the bottom. Everyday, he wears big black leather boots. And everyday, he smokes half a dozen cigarettes or more.

In our class, we stood in a circle so to play a name-game. As everyone called out their names, I noticed he was very distinct in announcing his.

"James!"

Yeah... The guy's name is Ryan.

The true meaning of identity crisis.

Nick Hayes pieces his words together carefully, "God's love, peace, mercy, and all that stuff..."

He pauses, trying to think of the right thing to say that would best describe how he felt.

"Seriously, you guys, it's like... Care Bears times 100 million."

God's love is that great...

Brought to you by Mr. Suburban Nick.

The issue of relationships, particularly that of romantic relationships, has become a main focus with the majority of the people I know. It's like a tidal wave. After the meteor (which scientists officially declared the "Infatuation Rock") hits earth, the ocean swells and reaches immeasurable heights, while we people go about on land, oblivious to what's about to sweep in on us. I watch as the shadow approaches and all I can do is smile. I look at everyone's faces, their expressions clearly awestruck in the wonder and overwhelming size of it all. Not me, no no no... My feet are cement, firmly planted, immovable--I'm a rock. Nay, I'm a boulder. Untouchable and totally prepared for any tidal wave.

The reality: While everyone has their own personal submarine set to autopilot, I'm armed only with orange rubber floaties and a fish net.

Don't misinterpret what I'm saying. I'm not involved with anyone. I haven't been hit by any tidal wave of love. As far as I know, no one's interested. I'm simply beginning to see how small I am in the broad spectrum. I've stepped out and taken a nice, long gander at everything and everyone around me. People are hooking up. Valentine's day is less than three weeks away. Hormones are on the rise. Girls are pretty, smooth, and we smell nice. Guys are big, warm, and great for cuddling.

Grab your snorkels and breathe deep. Don't think for one second that you're the exception. I certainly don't think I am.

Two things, one thought:

With wisdom comes patience. Know this and know it well.

I've decided to be fashionably late to my next class. It's Acting so cut me some slack. The reason I've decided to be late is because I am currently listening to the new single called, "Meant to Live" from Switchfoot's newest album. It makes my stomach do flips. How does music does that? Why does some music effect me whereas other pieces seem repulsive. There are lots of good bands out there. What makes this so much better than everything else?

It's sickening out good this is... Dang it. I've started crying...

Did I ever mention I have a self-esteem issue? Among other things?

I always thought most of my "personal" problems orgininated on my own, except I'm beginning to notice these same issues in my parents. Actually, "beginning" to notice isn't so much the truth. Rather, I've seen these things my entire life, I'm only now beginning to acknowledge them. Growing up, no matter what parents do or say, every child wants to believe their parents are perfect and can't do anything wrong. How our parents behave is how we should behave, correct? I mean, they're the adults--they know right from wrong.

I need to apologize to my self for not accepting my parents' imperfections the moment I realized the day they had both forgotten to pick me up after school in kindergarten. Two hours and 45 minutes late, to be exact.

But the issue of whether or not my parents are on-time is the least of their problems.

My dad, my hero, is not perfect. Like Joey from Friends, his favorite food is a sandwich. If, while devouring his sandwich, he spills a drop of ketchup onto his shirt, my dad won't think twice to say something like, "Dadgumit, David! You're such a doof!" If you've never heard the terms "dadgumit" and "doof" before, I'm just going to say they're not exactly uplifting terms. They're pretty much Christian alternatives to far worse terminology.

If you think something like that is minor, I guess I see why. Still, I don't see why the big fuss over spilt ketchup.

Of course there are other things, too. Due to how he's a "bigger" man and has only had two girlfriends (mom included) in his lifetime has caused him to believe the only reason my mother married him is by God's good graces. If you look back at old photos, the man was ripped. Heavy-weight champion of his high school wrestling team. Major in physical education from Cal Poly. An I.Q. of who-knows-what--the man's a genius. While my dad thinks it has everything to do with God's amazing grace, I think it's a combination of God's incredible matchmaking skills and my mother's fine taste.

Sometimes, right before my mom leaves the house for work, she'll kiss my dad before she heads out the doors. Occasionally, after my mom has gone, my dad will shrug, look at me in bewilderment, and say, "I can't believe she married me. Me!"

I can believe it, dad. She married you because you're my dad...

Of course, besides inheriting a confidence/self-esteem characteristic (or lack thereof) from my father, there's also the issue of my mother's overdrive to make more and more money at every chance, even if that means family becomes priority four or five... Hmm... I'll go into that some other night.

Sickening thoughts:

By the time the average American reaches 75 years of age, he or she will have slept a total of 23 years. At that same time, the average American will have watched at least 11 years of television.

For the love of all things sacred and holy, set up a reasonable sleep schedule and take a baseball bat to the freakin' television! We're wasting time...

Kate's blog has reminded me of a fresh, new concept for the second time tonight. The first time I heard about it, it came from Luke when we were on the phone several nights ago. Luke is a guy who's face I can only imagine when he's telling a story. You know that part in the Bible when Jesus and his disciples are all sitting around a campfire (or something like that) and the disciples decide to ask Jesus who's gonna be "best" in Heaven? You know what I'm talking about? Well, Jesus basically takes a child onto his knee or into his lap and he tells the disciples they must humble themselves and submit to God like a child. I wish I knew the passage, but I don't have one of those reference Bibles and it would take me a good while to find it. My point is, Luke fits. That passage--it's Luke. He's childlike and has a sense of wisdom I refuse to take for granted. If you've never had a conversation with a child under the age of seven, I highly recommend you have one. And when you do, ask them for their opinion about something important, like the subjects of love and of God. If you actually listen, you'll notice that the young minds usually have a clearer understanding of those things more so than anyone who has had years of experience and world influence. Now Luke is no seven-year-old. In fact, I believe he's older than I am. Nonetheless, his developed way of observing things through such a young and wonderous perception is one I wish I had.

Now with Kate, whose friendship I've started to treasure. We spent about two hours together but have not stopped communicating since and it's been so much fun. She blesses my heart. I can hardly wait to spend one-on-one time with her, asking her ridiculous amounts of questions about everything she knows and what she thinks about certain things. She, like Luke, has a childlike understanding of many things. "Whoa."

These two people are the reasons why I've decided to take this concept into consideration.

The concept is this:

Every morning, while I'm taking a shower or brushing my teeth, I will choose a theme for the day. It can be pretty much anything. Usually it has something to do with character development. Whether it be kindness, patience, love, hope, or something else you may not have considered, like smiling, laughing, or being creative. I will come up with something and it will become my focus. You might be asking, "How about God? Shouldn't He be your focus everyday?" But you must understand, all those things I listed--they're all things I connect with God. No matter what, God is on my mind. He's in my thoughts and I think about Him and talk to Him all day long. Of course, He's my focus. However, there are pieces of Him that I need to improve in myself. And that's what I'm getting at...

All of this has taken me well over an hour to write out. I apologize for the bad grammatics. Normally, I make more sense... At least, I'd like to think so.

This is just one of those badly written good thoughts. Enjoy.

Set List:

1. "Don't Go Away" by Oasis
2. "For Love"
3. "Yours"
4. "I Loved You"
5. "I Belong to You"
6. "Where Have You Gone?"
7. "All I Ever Wanted"
8. ???

I realize none of you have heard the majority of those songs, but it just feels good to get them written down. Now to fill the 8-spot...

I am so stoked to play next Friday.

Print it out.

Blogger Ryan-style:

57 days, Ryan. After today, it'll be 56 days. That's exactly eight weeks, which is exactly two months.
And I wasn't kidding about the blindfold thing either. I will do exactly that. You know I will.
I realize your biased about hugging me first, but I think you should come up with something better than that. Seriously now...
It'll definitely be an amazing moment when I arrive there, eh? I was thinking about it, and just imagining it makes me giddy.
I figure I'll have my blindfold on, but at the same time, I'll have my video-camera rolling, so later when we watch the tape, I'll (sorta) see what I missed while having a red bandana pulled tighty across my eyes. No doubt, watching the tape will be a bit rough... Without my eyes, it's hard to hold the camera absolutely still and in the right position... You know what I mean.
You can count on me to video-tape the entire time I'm there. I'll come home with priceless memories that I can watch over and over again to my little heart's content. Oh yes... And my digital camera. I'll be sure to fill that thing up, as well as two or three disposable cameras.
I think you're bringing just the right people to the airport too. You, Luke, Kate, and Jets. Ah... but which of you will remove the blindfold. I'll let you think about that one and decide for yourselves who would be the best one to "do the honors." Shoot, for all I know, you may decide to leave the blindfold on me until we get back to Bethany.
By the way, how long is the drive back there? Road trips with friends are the best, aren't they?
Remind me to bring some Canadian dollars to pay Jets for the gas. No doubt it's gonna cost to drive all the way out there.
Can you believe this is happening? I'm really struggling with the whole idea... I never thought you teasing me about going to Bible school would actually be God whispering in my ear about certain opportunities. You know how much I denied it, too! I hated it whenever you teased me about going there and I think it was because I didn't want to believe God wanted me anywhere but Victoria. It's amazing how some innocent teasing can change someone's life plans... That's God for you, though. He's always doing that!

Give me liberty or give me death.

Just don't give me Valentine's Day.

Library Musical.

My acting class consists of two things: 1) making a large circle with 24 other individuals, pretending to be suspended by some "imaginary rope" in order to make our bodies feel loose and fluid, and 2) standing in the middle of a large circle of 24 other individuals, hoping to appear somewhat entertaining and convincingly talented.

On Tuesday, I was part of the surrounding circle, watching others play a game involving four people. Two were speaking "gibberish" while two others pretended to interrpret what they were saying. When the story lost it's energy, someone from the circle would "tap" one of the four out, and a new, more lively scene would begin. I was reminded of my high school drama class and how fun it was to play those silly improvisational games. But there I sat, unable to throw myself in the circle, despite my past experience. I knew I could. I knew it would be fun. I knew I would impress my teacher. Still, I felt bolted to my chair.

The game was beginning to die... The scene was lagging.

Jump in... You haven't jumped in two years... Isn't it time you play again?
Jumping in isn't my style... I'll look conceded... I want to be humble...
You'll never get anywhere just sitting there doing nothing...
It's just a game...
The picture's a lot bigger than that...
I can't see it...
You're being stupid...
Yeah, I know...
So, jump already...
Fine, just to get you to shut up...

I'm noticing an uncanny parallel to my own life...

I'm so ridiculously sick, I cannot remember the last time I was this sick.

Last night was one of those roll-over nights. Sleeping on my stomach isn't good--roll over. Sleeping on my right side isn't good--roll over. Left side, no good--roll over. My back--roll over. I got too hot and through off my blankets. I quickly became too cold, and I gathered them back.

C'mon you no good, piece-of-junk, good-for-nothing, lazy, worthless body of mine! Make up your freakin' mind!!!

At this point, you may have concluded how delirious I really am.

I've just called Sarah in hopes to ask her a generous favor. My brain is too diluded to go driving, otherwise I would go to the grocery store myself. But right now, the only things that will make me feel somewhat better (physically, anyway) is a brimming bowl of chicken-noodle soup and a tall glass of cherry 7-up.

She's not picking up...

...help me.

Right. In exactly ten days, I'm performing my first set of songs in front of an audience.
Right. I've just returned from the grocery store with a hot chocolate in my right hand and a bag of 18 individual cherry-flavored sore throat drops in my left.

Right...

"They're leading them to the gates now... This is going to be one fantastic race, ladies and gentlemen. Waiting anxiously in gate Number One with his ears pinned and shoulders cocked is the University of Victoria. In gate Number Two with favorable odds, Bethany Bible College..."

And they're off.

The day and time has been set.

Garage sale held on the Curtin's driveway: Friday, the 24th.

Pray for a good turn-out.

Convenient methods in effort to an increase in personal and academic revenue. In other words: Quick ways to make large sums of cash.

I've decided to hold a winter garage sale. Everything I've collected to sell has come from my room. I have five QFC bags full of clothes. Brimming, in fact. It's ridiculous the amount of things I own but never use, don't need, or have never really wanted. Absolutely mind-bewildering.

Ben's encouraging me to take my guitar to some street corner where there's a coffee shop and play for people's kind donations. I wonder if I could... Without freaking out, I mean. It'd be good practice to get up in front of people I don't know. May be beneficial in more ways than just financial.

So far, my potential money-making schemes are the following:

- winter garage sale.
- playing music on a street corner.
- neighborhood yardwork.

Hmm... I'm in quite the ponderous mood.

I think I'm due for a beast of a blog. Rather, I'm due for a rant.

I woke up this morning to the sound of my alarm. Stephanie was asleep next to me with Lionel, the chubby stuffed lion she's had since her chilhood, placed comfortably on top of her face. While Stephanie had Lionel, I had Wot--my only teddy bear, which I bought for myself last year after losing 10 pounds--lodged underneath my right arm . You might be asking, What 19-year-olds still sleep with stuffed animals? My answer to you is this: Back off. At least I'm comfortable enough to admit it.

Last night, Stephanie and I spent our late night hours in my basement, harmonizing our voices, laughing, and dancing like two college students ought to--like idiots. Stephanie brings out a piece of me that no one else can. The side that makes me believe I will always be young-at-heart and will always remember the ability to laugh at any and every situation. Something that should never be neglected--laughter.

I went to church this morning and Terry gave a talk about the willingness to start over. He referred to David and how he responded after being convicted by God. The talk was moving and I feel reassured in my faith. Sometimes I feel so low to the ground, it becomes nearly impossible to pick myself up. Then I hear things like this morning and I remember I don't have to pick myself up. God carries me when I've fallen. I never have to be concerned with any of the burdens the world throws in my direction because God take those burdens upon Himself.

After leaving church, I called my friends in New Brunswick. As I listened to them all laugh and talk and joke with each other, I was thinking about how blessed I am to have found friends even in the farthest away place. I ask myself, How do I meet such awesome people? Why am I so blessed? What have I done to deserve to know these wonderful people? I honestly don't know, but I know God has everything to do with it. Every last person there is so talented and intelligent and have offered so much to me in friendship, I wonder how I can repay them. Although, I have spent quite a sum on phone minutes... I suppose that is the best I can do for now.

After taking my brother to his friend's house (where they proceeded to ready themselves for a day on the snowy slopes), I went to the Alderwood Mall to look for a gift for Brent, Ryan's younger brother. He went in for emergency open heart surgery earlier this week because his aeorta burst. When I arrived, I prayed to God for guidance about what to get him for a gift. I mean, what do you get someone who could have died and is now lying in bed, trying to mend? I walked through an entrance of the mall I had never taken before, entered The Bon, and I didn't walk 10 steps before seeing the gift. A 365-day calendar with the most beautiful pictures of the most beautiful cars I'd ever seen. Does Brent like cars? I glance through the different pictures... Wait a tick--the kid's a Wiedmaier--of course he likes cars! I left the gift on his dad's doorstep along with a cheesy card. I only hope it will let him know that he has people thinking about and praying for him everyday. Again, I don't know if it was the right thing to do for someone in that situation, but I did the best I could.

Now, I leave you. I have a date with my geology book and an online quiz. Wish me luck.

I can't remember the last time I was up this early. I feel ridiculous. Ten more minutes, and it'll be 10:00 am.

I can't really think of anything interesting to say, so I'll make a list.

Top Five Things Wracking Carly's Brain:

1. The sun is shining and the air is cool. Welcome to Seattle?
2. A plane ticket to New Brunswick without the help of my funds. Got any spare loonies?
3. God says, "Go to UVic! No, wait..." and pauses for a long time. God guides me by the hand, but with a blindfold over my eyes.
4. Hello, 20 credits in college. Welcome, part-time job? How does driving a golf-cart while serving alcholic beverages sound?
5. Financial independence. When will I take that step and will I succeed at resisting my parents?

I need a drink.

Talk about a day of stress and trials only to result in an amazing day of answered prayers.

Ryan's little brother with the heart problem was rushed to the hospital this morning because his aeorta (in his heart) burst. He went in for open heart surgery and went in again afterwards (for reasons still to be known) for a bypass surgery. I just finished talking with one of Ryan's dormmates (and my good friend) Luke who said as far as he knew, little (theoretically speaking...) brother Brent is doing just fine. Praise God # 1.

About two hours prior to my conversation with Luke, I was reading Ryan's blog in hopes to read any update on Brent. However, it only provided more stress. You see, apparently Ryan's other dormmate (and one of my closest friends) John Jetchick was told he was getting "the boot" from Bethany Bible College due to the fact his high school transcript revealed he was lacking 1 credit. Valevictorian of his class, Jetchick is told unless he earns that 1 credit by 3:30 pm tomorrow, he will be forced to leave the institution. What does the kid do? He goes online, signs up for the credit he needs, writes about three papers, two essays, and I'm sure quite a bit of other important pieces of homework, sends them to an online professor, and will get results of his classwork within the week. He completed an entire online course in a period of two hours. Praise God # 2.

How do these things happen?

I've learned something today.

A compliment received, ie. "you're hot", only withstands in my conscience under the circumstances that which depend on a certain person.

My brother, ladies and gentlemen...

I'm sitting here with my dad watching a special on VH1 called "I Love the 80's." I've been reminded of so many things from my childhood.

The things that have struck me most are the following:

- Punky Brewster.
- Mr. Belvedeer.
- Care Bears.
- Pound Puppies.
- Tears for Fears.
- Alf.
- Teddy Ruxpin.

1984. It was a great year... (Did I mention I turn 19 next week? *insert winking face here*)

It felt like it could have snowed today. I was so cold. My freckled nose looked as though it had been replaced by a ripe strawberry. I love this month.

Appologies for the technical difficulties that seem to be occurring with jeffersonair. I'll have them fixed as fast as possible. Until then, keep flying.

At 6:53 am this morning, I heard the my bedroom door slowly creak open and in a second, I was out of bed.

"Whoa," Kyle said, caught off guard by my jolting.

After dressing quickly, I slipped my purse over my head and Kyle and I quietly retreated out of the house.

Already knowing of the thin sheet of ice that lay across my windshield, Kyle ran warm water from a small jug across the glass. I started the car and flipped the wipers on. Our early morning ritual was becoming easy and well-known.

We made our way down the road and I pushed the gas to the floor.

"Um... somebody's doing 50."

I glanced down at the spedometer and realized how fast I was going.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't even see."

"In a hurry to get back home and sleep?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

The sun was only beginning to rise up from behind the mountains, but the small amount of sunshine brightened the sky enough so to see a sparkling frost where the grass ran alongside the pavement.

My car had slowed to a steady pace of 35 mph.

The only turn with an existing guard rail began to come into view. As I pulled the wheel to the left, I could feel the car lean to the right. Suddenly, the car was lifted off the road and no longer obeyed my steering directions.

I'd lost control.

"Oh, Kyle. We've hit ice. Hold on."

"Huh? Whoa!"

"Hold on! We're sliding!"

I began to pump the breaks while I pulled the wheel rhythmically to the left. I knew the wheels had locked themselves at a 45 degree angle and wouldn't respond to my consant jerking.

Thoughts began to run through my mind.

We're going to hit on the passenger side.

Kyle is sitting on the passenger side.

Kyle's is my little brother.

Kyle is one of my best friends.

Can I regain control of this situaton?

Can I protect him?

The car stopped bluntly when it made contact with the metal railing. The car sat motionless, propped against the railing which now had a car shaped bubble indented into its surface.

I sat there, both hands on the wheel and staring blankly ahead of me. I could see the 522 freeway about a half mile distance away from us.

Maybe we should have taken 522 this morning.

Remembering Kyle, I looked over at him and saw his expression. He was staring ahead of him too.

"Wow."

"Yeah... Are you ok?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I think the car might be hurt though."

"That's ok. It couldn't be too bad. Might have taken out my headlight though."

"No, I don't think so. Looks like you chipped the fender. That's all."

A chipped fender and broken reflector. That's all.

In Cavan of little lakes,
As I was walking with the wind,
And no one seen beside me there,
There came a song into my mind;
It came as if the whispered voice
Of one, but none of human kind,
Who walked with me in Cavan then,
And he invisible as wind.

On Urris of Inish-Owen,
As I went up the mountain side,
The brook that came leaping down
Cried to me—for joy it cried;
And when from off the summit far
I looked o’er land and water wide,
I was more joyous than the brook
That met me on the mountain side.

To Ara of Connacht’s isles,
As I went sailing o’er the sea,
The wind’s word, the brook’s word,
The wave’s word, was plain to me—
As we are, though she is not,
As we are, shall Banba be—
There is no king can rule the wind,
There is no fetter for the sea.

- Alice Mulligan, "A Song of Freedom"

After a late morning of prepping for class and running around, trying to figure out how to use this ridiculous online course... I am going to go buy a hogie. I am so excited.

My Silly/Slightly Scary List of Tendencies

- I type in my sleep.
- I put potato chips on my sandwiches.
- I pretend I can ballet dance when I'm alone in my room.
- I only use black gel-roller pens.
- I only use 0.7mm lead if I must use a pencil.
- I never sleep wearing pajama pants or shorts.

...and that's all I can come up with right now. Trust me, there's far worse things... *insert devious face here*

Inspiration of the times:



"Okay?"

As of today, three very important friends have officially left for their next school term.

Leah to Trinity Western University.
Stephanie to Pacific Lutheran University.
Ryan to Bethany Bible College.

Hmm... I'm noticing a "christian" pattern within the schools. It makes me question whether or not I should be going to a public non-Christian school, such as the University of Victoria. Thus far, it seems to be the right thing. However, if I am rejected, I will definitely rush to God's front door and bang on it obnoxiously until He tells me where I need to go next.

At the end of January, I'll be opening for my friends in their band Red Virginia and I am really excited about it. Even though New Year's Eve did not go as I had hoped, I am still stoked about the show. This is going to be an eventful month. Turning 19 on the 16th. My first show with some killer friends. Taking 20 credits yet again at Cascadia. I only hope and pray that I can maintain a managable stress level. Last quarter, I nearly lost it. Credit to that is the "1.0" attained in my English class. Oy... I still struggle with that.

God continues to work in me. Sometimes, His presence isn't felt as strongly as I'd like, but knowing that He's there is the most comforting thing I've ever experienced. I am reminded since most of my closest friends have left this weekend that God is who I should be relying on at all times. My devotion needs to be solely His. It's such a hard thing to do--to depend only on God when there are people who are flesh and tangible--but I know if I do have that dependence, my life will be all the better.

So... In the famous words of Pepe the King Prawn:

"Would you hurry up and finish reading this thing, okay?"

I'm waiting patiently for Ryan to arrive at my house to whisk me away to downtown Seattle for some scrumptious bubble tea.

Cassie did my make-up again tonight. Not like she had for New Year's Eve but still enough to notice. It's fun for her, I think. Make-up isn't exactly a priority on my list, so when there is a comparitively large amount of it apparent on my face, it feels really different. Tolerable, but definitely different. I like it because people give me those looks that I hardly ever see. Those Whoa... You look nice... glances.

I was in Ryan's jeep on Day One and I threw his tuk (beanie) over my head, looked at him and he said the best and most appropriate thing ever--

"Holy cuteness, Batman. Where's your camera?"

Today started early. Awaked by the loud, head-shattering sound of an alarm clock, screaming, "eeiiiiiiaa!!!! eeiiiiiiaa!!!!" repetitively. Forced out of sleep, I reached for the phone and dialed Ryan's number.

"Good morning," he was tired, but chipper as usual.

"Good morning. You awake?" I managed to mumble.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Ok, call me when you're on your way, ok?"

"Sure thing. Toodles."

We spent our morning hours passing over the tiles of Pike Place Market, admiring all of Seattle's wonders and beauties. Ryan bought me some interesting pastries, including a bag full of smallish doughnuts that were extremely delicious. We made our way to this cool tree preservatory where we stood on a bridge covered in wet, slippery moss. I thought of Leah when I saw the puddles, three to four inches deep, and realized that extreme puddle jumping on a stone bridge would be very fun and intense. However, I couldn't bring myself to leap, simply because I wasn't in the mood for a soaked pair of chuck's. Afterwards, we passed through the doors of Guitar Center and admired all the pretty things and fun toys. I bought new guitar strings--desperately needed--and Ryan bought some amazing headphones for lots of money and I wished I could spend the cash on a Fender Telecaster, but I got scared and ran away.

We drove home. We sang to Jimmy Eat World.

I'm going to miss him when he goes away...

Now would be a great time to start singing Oasis' "Don't Go Away." Oh! Speaking of which... Time for a guitar lesson.

A simple prayer:

Practice. Harmony. Talent. Skill. Perfection.

Amen.