Thank you all so much for coming today. We have a lot of important Sarahcentric business to take care of, but let me make a quick announcement before we get down to the nitty gritty.

I love Egg Nog.

I love Egg Nog so much I wish I could find another purpose beyond it’s holiday treat status. Maybe it could be a facial treatment?

Egg Nog is so delicious I’m certain this is what angels in heaven pour on their morning cereal before angel school. That cereal is nothing less than moons and stars in a golden bowl, and is served by a unicorn or a My Little Pony. So wait…maybe angels eat Lucky Charms?

Drinking one glass of pre-made egg nog in my apartment significantly increases the chances that a group of Dickensian carolers will burst into my apartment to serenade me with old-timey carols. That’s how I justify the extra calories. I can’t afford to miss that kind of Christmas miracle.

And finally, I ONLY like the Southern Comfort brand egg nog that shows up in the supermarket every holiday season. I’m not saying that homemade isn’t more delicious. But it’s only ever offered to me when I show up late at a drunken holiday party, sitting in a punch bowl for at least 3 days in a Queens apartment kitchen with questionable food safety standards. No, thank you.

Ohhhhh-kay! Now that Egg Nog is off the table. Let’s move on to the next point of business.

Next Monday, December 8th, in the year of our Lord 2008, Sarahcentric will have a brand new look as conceived by the very talented Chris Ammons. The switch begins this weekend, but Monday is when it’s all official and the party really gets going.

In honor of the site’s new blinding beauty, I will be hosting my very first blog giveaway! Two lucky readers will win a pound of my cherished Graham Cracker Coffee! But that’s not all, the two lucky SOBs will also win the comfiest, Greenest accessory of them all; a handmade coffee cozy from my friend Kim’s Etsy shop, The Doe and The Mouse. Good stuff, good stuff, good stuff. All you gotta do is comment on Monday’s post for one entry. And if you think have the prunes, tell everyone about Sarahcentric and the giveaway on your own blog for TWO entries! Just be sure to link to it in your comment over here. Don’t worry, we’ll go over all of this again on Monday. No need to take any serious notes right now.

But if you’re just itching to delve further into my world, why not explore other Sarahcentric worlds on the interweb?

You can follow me in 140 characters or less here on Twitter. I am woman of few words…on Twitter, that is.

Or if you want to take me to Miley Cyrus status, consider becoming a fan on Facebook.

I am honored and humbled to follow in the footsteps of all those Facebook celebrities of whom I have personally become a fan. That list includes Fraggle Rock, sleep, A Christmas Story pumpkin pie and coffee.

I wonder if I will need an alter-ego like Hannah Montana to maintain a normal lifestyle now that I’m a Facebook celebrity?

Egg Nog better be in the fridge of my Facebook trailer or heads will roll!

:: :: :: :: ::

Where have I been? What have I been doing?
Whatever…where have you been?! What have you been doing?!
Alright, fine! I’ll tell you what was so important that I thought it was fine to not post a new blog entry for a week.

It pretty much looked like this…

Don’t you dare judge me. I needed this downtime on my sister’s oversized chair in fuzzy monkey socks to make it through Thanksgiving!

How else do you cope with a botched attempt to leave New York City on the Tuesday before, only to be turned away when the buses are too full? I tried venting with friends via text, (”This city is a being such a d–k!” I hate it here!”), but that didn’t help much.

How do you make sense of the fact that every person who lives in Upstate NY refuses to acknowledge how cold their old, drafty houses are?! My entire family walks around their homes in t-shirts and jeans, while I’m wearing every hooded sweatshirt I can get my hands on.

How can you possibly keep up with the new Thanksgiving dinner joke? Since no one ruined their contribution to the meal this year, my family fought to take credit for each other’s dishes. If someone complimented a Thanksgiving treat, it was imperative to rush in and steal the chef’s thunder. It’s an impossibly layered joke that goes something like this.

“Wow, this broccoli casserole is awesome!”
“Oh hey! Remember when I forwarded that recipe to you?!”
“Uh huh”
“Yep, yep. That’s right. You’re welcome. You’re welcome, everybody!”

or…

“God, this squash is delicious!”
“Remember when I tasted it for you this morning and I told you it was good?!”
“Whatever…”
“Yeah, yeah…I have really good taste. You’re welcome, everybody!”

Don’t you see how hard, exhausting, irritating and fun this must have been for me?! Obviously, the only way I could manage all of this was to shut down any instinct of adult responsibility and just yield to and overdose on Maximum Comfort!

Yes, it was hard to skip blogging! But who else was going to watch The Cosby Show marathon on TV Land? Somebody had to finish the amazing and perfect novel Persepolis?! Do you know how many couches I had to lay on to make sure they were comfortable enough for napping?! Bottom line, I had to a lot to NOT do this Thanksgiving. How could I possibly have fit in writing?!

It’s ok. I forgive you. I know you had no idea how hard and comfy this must have been for me. We’re back on track now.

You’re welcome.

:: :: :: :: ::

“Hello?”

“…”

“Hello?”

“heehee (7 year old niece giggle) Umm, Aunt Sa-, I mean, Sarah…this is your big sister, Chrissy.”

“Ohhhh, Hi Chrissy. What’s up?

“Ummm, you need to make the turkey for Thanksgiving.”

“Chrissyyyyyy (exaggerating second syllable so my niece thinks she’s got me right where she wants me!) I caaaan’t! You know I don’t eat meat!”

(niece breaks character) “Why? Are you allergic?”

“No, it’s more for health reasons. Pretty complicated, actually…whatever, it’s boring.”

My sisters mumble in the background, feeding lines to my ecstatic niece
“hahaha, so you aren’t funny anymore, hahaha!”

My sisters are laughing harder than my niece. My family is convinced that since going vegetarian 2 years ago I’ve become at least 17% less funny.

“No! I still bring it everyday!”

Sisters, and maybe a brother, are now feeding lines to my niece

“hahaha Aunt Sar…I mean, Sarah…Redeem Yourself!!”

And so on and so on, until my niece times her glorious reveal perfectly. “IT’S ME!!! I GOT YOU!! As far as she’s concerned, this rivals Darth Vader revealing himself to Luke Skywalker. But let’s stop here to explain the significance of “redeeming yourself” during the family holiday season. Please follow me in this guided dysfunctional family meditation.

Go back as far as you can and bring to mind your family’s Thanksgiving celebrations. If your family is anything like mine, you’ll probably remember a few consecutive years where the meal was relatively peaceful. Now, this doesn’t mean it wasn’t completely dysfunctional. It just means that everyone adhered to whatever rules your dysfunctional family carved into a stone tablet years ago. Maybe your Mom woke up at 4 am to put the bird in, and you had no idea why it was necessary to start that early? Maybe your family’s table had all of the traditional dishes plus a random bowl of LaChoy vegetable Chop Suey that no one ever ate? Doesn’t matter. As long as you didn’t question it, you sat down to dinner (at the ridiculously early hour of 2pm) and the meal went off without a hitch.

Ok. Come back to your breathing. Now please bring to mind the Thanksgivings where one small miscalculation created a monstrous butterfly effect that left your entire family in a heap of cranky Thanksgiving depression. I know it’s probably difficult to go there, but we need to locate the exact moment that those dark Thanksgivings began to unravel. Still lost? Well, let me help you.

Someone rocked the f–ing boat.

Someone in your family got a high falootin’ idea to try a new recipe, buy a new roasting pan, or deep-fry a turkey. Only they forgot that this wasn’t some freaking Wednesday to be wild and try something new. This is Thanksgiving! Inevitably, the fancy-schmancy recipe they found on that superchef’s website wasn’t as simple as it looked. “I don’t understand what happened! Mario Batali de-boned this Tuscan partridge in 5 seconds flat when he made this on Iron Chef!!” The taste of one bad dish, or the poor scheduling of the dinner taints the rest of the meal…and your life.

My family, with a cruel and unusual memory for terrible Thanksgiving choices, never allows anyone to get away with what they have done. Each holiday, you are expected to “redeem yourself” for the terrible pain you caused everyone else. No matter how many years have passed. Here are some of the most heinous Jackson Thanksgiving crimes.

• My younger siblings and I decided we could roast a turkey, no problem. Only we had no idea our stove’s temperature was at least 20 degrees off. Since we had no oven thermometer and we were certainly not starting at 4 am, my family didn’t eat anything until 9 pm that night.

• One year my older sister pro-actively cleaned the kitchen WHILE PEOPLE WERE STILL COOKING, in the hopes of avoiding the messy kitchen after the meal. My friend Andrew had the impossibly disgusting job of dealing with the giblets for the gravy. When the magical time came to make the broth, they were no where to be found. All you could hear in the background was my sister “Ohhhhhhhh s–t. I threw those out.”

• I had the brilliant idea of making Patti Labelle’s AAAAAAH-MAAAAAY-ZING Macaroni & Cheese. I have killed with this recipe time and time again. But I forgot to bring the recipe with me to the supermarket. For reasons I will never understand, I assumed the recipe on the back of the Ronzoni box was the same. (Why would I assume that, why?! Think about it. If it was the SAME we would only have one recipe for every dish..in the world!) The reviews of my Mac & Cheese included, “Is there cheese in here?!” “watery. dry….How can something be watery and dry at the same time?!”

The most notorious crime against Jackson Thanksgiving was committed by my youngest sister at the age of 4 or 5. This actually happened at Christmas dinner, but the act was so cruel and unimaginable it comes up at every major holiday. My mother made a rib roast for the big meal which included special guest stars, my grandparents. The meal was laid out buffet style in the kitchen and lil’ sis was the first on line. Being so young, she assumed there was an endless supply of gravy like there appears to be with the Thanksgiving turkey. Imagine our surprise when we cued up a few seconds after, and all of the gravy was gone!! But there sat my sister, in her 5 year old glory…a plate drowned in gravy. To this day, when we all finally sit down to eat it become very still and quiet for two minutes. Not to say grace, but for one of us to be the first person to shout, “Hey! Take it easy on that gravy!”

Last year, she tried to put her foot down. “Oh my god, it’s not even funny anymore!!” My brother laughed even harder, “Oh-ho-ho, are you kidding me?! Yes it is. Yes. It. Is!”

I wanted to get my Thanksgiving wishes out there to all of you as soon as possible. Not just to catch you before you left to be with your family, but to give you fair warning. Enjoy yourselves, but don’t take any chances. Make the same stuffing your mother made. Buy the canned cranberry sauce even though everyone hates it. And if you must make something new, be sure that it is tested well in advance. In my neverending quest to redeem myself for the Ronzoni Mac & Cheese, please accept this offering: the Patti Labelle’s “Over the Rainbow ” Macaroni and Cheese Recipe.

May this insanely fattening dish help to heal another family’s Thanksgiving wounds.

:: :: :: :: :: ::

I’ve been wearing my Cranky Pants since 7 pm last night. I was hoping they would have worked themselves off by this morning since I wanted to write a big, happy post but no such luck. They are giving me a major emotional wedgie.

No need to worry, though. I’m working through it, repeating inspiring phrases and quotes to myself. Something will eventually ring true for me and I will be as light as a feather again. But right now I’m still in that hissy-fit, “what’s the point, anyway?” stage of Cranky Pants Recovery.

This is from Norman Fischer.
“…Buddhism advises us to be honest with our emotions, and to develop a spacious enough inner life to be able to appreciate fully the whole range of our emotional life and even express it without being harmed by it, or harming others.”

And this is how I am currently responding to Norman Fischer.
“Whatever!! I am freaking out here. Everything is so bad.. Everyone is so annoying…I hate this stupid sweater I’m wearing! I’m sure I need a brain transplant. Why can’t I do anything like a normal person? Oww, my feet hurt, great! I just wanna pull someone’s hair. Maybe I should move to Vermont…”

Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, the very influential zen monk in the picture above, offers this simple mantra.
“Not always so.”

To which I reply…
“No! ALWAYS so! Forever and ever! I am doomed to repeat this terrible, shitty moment over and over again. I can’t believe I’ll be in these yoga pants and hoodie for the rest of my life! WHERE DID I GO WRONG?!”

If there was a line of Buddhist Bratz dolls, they would look just like me.

I’m going to take Suzuki Roshi’s quote out with me on the road today. It’s the most portable. Not just because it’s the easiest to remember, but because it’s the most true in any given situation. Maybe it’s Suzuki Roshi’s version of tough love punishment, zen-style,

“Nah ah, no way! You are grounded, you brat! Sit on your meditation mat and repeat “Not Always So” until you realize it ISN’T always so!”

“Aghhh! FINE!” door slam

“Oh, you better not have just slammed that door, Missy!!!

“Whatever, I hate it here!”

Not always so, not always so, not always so…

:: :: :: :: :: ::

Wait!

Before you walk out the door, lock it, then realize you forgot your iPod and head back to get it, leave again, realize you left the keys by your laptop, curse, run back in for the keys and finally head out…just wanted to update you on some goings-on here. Goings-on…or Going-onS? Whatever, we don’t have much time!

1) I have a major crush on Joe Scarborough from MSNBC’s excellent morning show “Morning Joe”. Joe is hilarious, moderately Republican (which oddly gives him a weird bad-boy quality) and has a ton of hair. I don’t have much faith that we would work in a long-term relationship, but there would most certainly be great frenching. It would be like dating Alex P. Keaton from “Family Ties”.

2) The butter on my toast tasted weird. Like, really weird. Gross. I thought it was scientifically impossible for butter to not be the most delicious thing on earth. Therefore I have to assume that my butter supply has been compromised, tainted. Someone is obviously trying to poison me. Call the police.

3) I’ve been waking up a little earlier these days to get some work done on the first draft of my book. I’m going to go into greater detail on this whole process very soon, promise. However, I thought you should know now that part of my research this morning involved screening of clips from the 80s cartoon “Jem”. Amazing, inspiring, awesome, love it. And last night, I read more of the new book “Sailing Home: Using Homer’s Odyssey to Navigate Life’s Perils and Pitfalls” by American Zen monk Norman Fischer. Norman breaks life down by drawing parallels between Buddhist teaching and Homer’s “The Odyssey”. Amazing, inspiring, awesome, love it.

Sooooo, how do Jem and the Buddha fit together? Yeah, umm..I don’t know why or how just yet. But at this part of the writing, I really feel like they do. Now, it’s still early and this could all get scrapped in revisions. That leaves us with one of two possible scenarios as to how this could end.

Scenario 1
You: Oh Sarah, can you sign this copy of your book?
Me: Sure, of course..thank you so much for reading!
You: No prob. Hahaha, remember when you were going to put Jem in your book?
You: SHHHHH! Shut up, shut up right now! We don’t speak of that anymore!

Scenario 2
Charlie Rose: Sarah, your book is a huge success. Thank you so much for joining me here today.
Me: Of course, Charlie. It’s a pleasure.
Charlie Rose: Let’s just get right to it. Pop sensation Jem plays a major role in this book.
Me: Yes. She was a great inspiration to me as a child.
Charlie Rose: And part of the proceeds from your book are going directly to Jem’s favorite charity, The Starlight Foundation.
Me: Mmm, hmmm..
Charlie Rose: So you know what I have to ask you…
Me: Oh Charlie, not you too!
Charlie Rose: I gotta do it, Sarah. Are Jem and Jerrica Benton one in the same?
Me: Charlie, I really don’t know.
Charlie Rose: Ok, Ok. And do you have any information on something called Synergy?
Me: “a holographic computer designed to be the ultimate visual entertainment synthesizer built by her father, who left it to her on his death.”?
Charlie: Yes.
Me: Ummmm, no.

I can’t promise you that Jem will make the cut the final draft of my book. But let’s pray to God she does because that second scenario is too excellent.

Alright. That’s it.
Go lose your keys.

:: :: :: :: ::

Before you read this post…
Before you drink your coffee…
Before you ever do anything else again … you must watch this video.
We’ll meet right back here after you’re done.

If you think I haven’t played this video over 1 million times and danced by myself all Sunday aftertoon to the point of sweating…well then, you don’t know me very well. You see, I have been a professional imaginary dancer for most of my life.

It’s difficult to tell dancers and imaginary dancers apart. Both are passionate about the latest trends and moves. Both are committed to hard work and rehearsal. There is only one small difference between me as an imaginary dancer and the traditional dancer…

I can’t dance.

I have a basic sense of rhythm that will get you by at college bars and, later in life, drunk wedding receptions. The only thing I’m missing is the technical ability, grace and work ethic. Please! Do I really need to nail all of the moves in the latest pop-awesome-hot video?! All I have to do is bounce around, copy a few of the simplest moves to wow the crowd (in my mind) and sell it. Sell it, Sell it, SELL IT!

Since amazing songs like Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” have a shelf life of about three weeks, it’s important that I get the rehearsal process started right away. I crank the video as loud as I can and just watch it several times in a row. No dancing…yet. I call all of my imaginary dancer friends to make sure we’re all working on the same piece, “Did you see this s–t yet?! It’s cuuhhhhRAAAAAYzeeee! Love it!”

Once that’s completed, I just gotta get movin’! The key to a successful imaginary dance piece is to spazz out in what appears to be sort sort of rhythm. But just when your audience starts thinking you might be bulls–t, you throw in one of the three moves that you lifted directly from the original choreography. For example, Beyonce and I are one in the same when she gets to her first chorus of “Woah, Oh, Oh!” about 40 seconds in. Trust me. It is the hotness. I also do that skip around the room thing with the girls just before the chorus, but not too late in the day. I have downstairs neighbors to worry about. When Beyonce gets to that perfect lyric, “If you like it than you shoulda put a ring on it”, about 52 seconds in, I’m with her there. Except I hurt my knee pretty badly today while rehearsing that section. (I’m pretty sure that’s God telling me it’s too risque of a move for me.) My sister is still recuperating from an injury she sustained this summer while practicing a move from the “So You Think You Can Dance” finale we watched at a friend’s house on vacation. She woke up the next morning saying, “ohhh, I think I pulled a muscle in my butt last night”. Oh well, deal with it. Injury is just part of the imaginary dancer’s life.

I don’t enjoy the same level of fame and notoriety that “legit” dancers like Beyonce often do, but I do feel some of the glow. When I took a break from rehearsal today to run some Queens errands, I’m pretty sure all of the guys were checking me out. That song was so stuck in my head, it was as if I was picking up my vitamins in the same leotard and heels Beyonce and the girls wear. I was smiling, winking and saying ciao to any brother who glanced my way. Imagine my surprise when I caught myself in the mirror dancing wearing a tank top, jeans, glasses and my winter hat. Huh. Was anyone really checking me out? Did Daniel Craig really ask me for my number?

I haven’t been invited to perform on Saturday Night Live yet, but it doesn’t matter. My imaginary dance schedule is pretty packed these days. My family is guaranteed performances when I am home over the holidays and some random pop song shows up on TV when we’re all watching together. I stand up and walk into the center of the room, all hard and sexy like one of Missy Elliot’s dancers. My brother and sisters go along with it, “Oh s–t! Oh snap! Here she comes!” Once I take my position, I spazz out like a 6 year old dancing at a wedding. “Go Sarah! Wow, your body’s really responding to this!”

I also think it’s important to push the limits of imaginary dance. That’s why I’ve started working in Modern and Contemporary. I set most of those pieces to opening themes from classic HBO series like “Six Feet Under” and “The Sopranos”. This involves a lot of abstract, herky-jerky moves that I deftly string together in my living room. My friend Andrew, a skilled imaginary dancer in his own right, has been my primary audience in this medium. “5, 6, 7, 8! Yes, Sarah..and POP 2, 3, 4!” This work isn’t as commercially viable, but it’s so important that I keep the art of imaginary dance alive.

That is why I’m sharing my heart here with all of you today. If we want to keep dance alive for those of use who cannot dance, we must continue to imaginary dance! So before you do anything else again, watch Beyonce’s “Single Ladies”. Get up. Get down. Spazz out. Ignore what you’re wearing in real life and strut around like you’re in your leotard and stillettos. And when a guy checks you out, “don’t pay him any attention”.

“If you like it than you shoulda put a ring on it.”

:: :: :: :: ::

Don’t worry. I definitely strained my neck when I turned off the bathroom faucet last night.

If I had not been distracted talking to my friend Andrew while I twisted the hot and cold nozzles tighter to stop the annoying drip, would I have realized I was pushing my body to what are, apparently, extreme limits? Who can say. But what’s even worse is that all Andrew and I did was shout our favorite quotes from HBO’s beyond-hilarious new show Summer Heights High back and forth to each other. This may have been excusable, except that we have already had this “conversation” at least three times this week. When Summer Heights High came up again for the fourth time today, Andrew finally put his foot down, “Look, we seriously need to stop talking about it. When we get started, we obviously can’t stop.”

Unfortunately, the moratorium came too late. The damage was done. I pulled some tiny neck/ shoulder/arm muscle business. I don’t know its medical name, but I’m pretty sure it’s responsible for holding up the weight of my entire pumpkinhead above my body.

I woke up in the middle of the night thinking my big brother or sister showed up to torture me with the notorious Older Sibling Pincher of Power. You know the move…when they zap you with their evil, powerful fingers right in the fleshy part between your shoulders and your head and all you can do is spazz out? Well, spazz out I did! The only way I could get slightly comfortable was to prop my unbelievably heavy head on every pillow I could find. It’s not nearly as comfortable as you might think. Only one person could possibly understand my discomfort last night; Sayuri, from Memoirs of a Geisha.

Trust me. I know. I have watched that movie at least 1000 times because my sister insists that we watch it every single time it’s on Starz. When poor Sayuri gets her hair done, Mrs. Nitta (the mistress at the geisha dorm…think of her as an opium smoking Mrs. Garrett.), insists that she balance her head on some ancient Japanese wood hairstand thing so she won’t ruin it in her sleep.

Sayuri, I am so sorry. How could I allow myself to be dazzled by your gorgeous kimonos and your true love, the handsome Chairman when all the while your poor neck was on fire?! When you threw your geisha glances over your shoulder, how could I not see that it was probably the only direction your lame neck would go?! It was so obvious!!

All I can do now, Sayuri, is send you tons of good Metta hoping it will come back to heal my sh–ty neck. I hope and pray that bitch Mrs. Nitta had at least enough compassion to have Motrin on hand and ordered Chinese take-out to make you feel comfy and better.

Or…Japanese. Whatever works.

:: :: :: :: ::

Look what I found on the refrigerator door… a new blog design!

INSIDE the refrigerator, I found strawberry rhubarb jelly for the best-est, toast-iest breakfast I have ever had. If you have not tried LaBrea Bakery’s whole wheat bread, then there is just something wrong with you. In fact, I may have a third piece of toast before I get on the train …but that’s not the point right now!

The point right now is that muddy brown backgrounds and lime green sidebar widgets are for chumps! Blue textile backgrounds, tea-stained pieces of paper, and red doodley-doos are where it is at these days…or where it will be at sometime very soon, before the end of the year.

Do not think for a second I’m not blowing this thing out! Sure, once the big re-launch date is set you can order a keg, wings, DJ and dancers from Chippendales. But I think the only thing you really need to enjoy the new and improved Sarahcentric is Graham Cracker Coffee. So we’re fixin’ to giveaway a pound of the good stuff to two of our most loyal readers!

Don’t worry, I’ll give you all of the sordid details including dates and giveaway rules very soon. First I just have to figure out how to make the big transfer. Apparently I need to find a web hosting service? So what … do they drop off one of those huge super computers that takes up an entire room?! Because, seriously, my apartment is not that big.

Change is good.

:: :: :: :: ::

Two highlights…

1) My new hero, Maru The Cat. He loves boxes.

2) President Obama

Yesterday was amazing, but we still have work to do.

Get out the Vote!

Maru, The FIRST Cat!

:: :: :: :: :: ::

Will I get more than three hours of sleep tonight?
When should I get to the polls?
What if someone tries to stop me from voting?! Do I punch them? I can’t punch anybody!
Why can’t I stop listening to Jordin Sparks, “One Step at a Time”?!

Oh. My. God.

WHAT DO I WEAR TO THE ELECTION NIGHT PARTY… Cute top, cute jeans, big earrings?!
Do I keep my hair curly or get up even earlier to blow it out straight?
Will Virgina go blue?
Could New York go red?!
Oooo…should I wear blue? Too on the nose…or is it so corny it turns charming?

Do I watch MSNBC tonight or CNN?
Should I pretend nothing’s happening and watch “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” instead?
Why did “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” suck so much?

Oh. My. God.

What if Voldemort shows up at the party tomorrow?!
What about the Death Eaters, are they still undecided?!
Who am I?!
What am I?!
Where am I?!
Who are you?!
AM I TRIPPING?!

Pfffffffffffff.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

Breathe in.
Breathe out.

Yes we can.
One step at a time.
Thank you, Jordin Sparks.

:: :: :: :: :: ::