at my feet...

I dislike being told that I'm going to hell. I really do. I find it distasteful and more than a little bit rude... but I've heard it more times than I care to recall and read it more times than I can count. If I weren't so very fond of myself I might start to take it personally, but to tell you the truth I'm okay with the powers that be and I think that if there is a higher power that supreme being is pretty okay with me.

I'm a good person. I love my family. I don't hurt people (when I can help it). I don't kill anyone. I only lie when it's totally and completely necessary and I never cheat, not even on my taxes.

I even do things to help the community...

That wasn't a joke. I sooo volunteer in my community.

So it wasn't really too much of a surprise today when I headed out to pick K up from school and found laying at my feet on the front porch a golden ticket of sorts:

All I have to do to make it to heaven is follow their 10 easy parts... No problem right?

Part 1: What is the Bible?

well it's really more of a question than a step but lets see what they have to say...

The Bible is God's Word. It tells us his law

um... okay...

"The law of the LORD is perfect"

I've always felt like maybe "perfect" is a bit of an exaggeration... but hey if all I have to do to get to heaven is accept the perfection of some law that some unseen being has handed down I think we can make that work.

Part 2: What is Sin?

well according to dictionary.com sin is a bad thing...

Sin is breaking God's law

Right, breaking the law... the one that God set forth... shouldn't be a problem, after all it says up there that the law of God is perfect...

Lying - I can work on that. I'll just tell K tomorrow morning that Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy are mythical creatures made up to cruelly coddle children so that they are horribly disillusioned and spirit broken before they head into their pre-teens.

Cheating - No problem. I hate cheating. My brother used to swear I cheated at Go Fish as a kid because I won almost every time... but I totally NEVER did. I didn't cheat at Monopoly either... but I think he did.

Cursing - Houston, we have a problem... Cursing? Really??!! Cursing... do you think they mean saying "Oh my God what the hell is wrong with you crazy fucking people, won't you shut the hell up and stop talking about that stupid TV show" kind of cursing or the "I condemn you to a life of misery and suffering" kind of cursing... because I could totally go my whole life with out cursing someone like Gypsy's do in storybooks...

Sigh...

I'm not gonna bother with the rest of the pamphlet... I'm pretty sure that on the last page it's just going to tell me I'm going to hell...

snips snails and sausage tails

After a long day (more on that later this week) I find myself in my favorite place in the house.

My bed.

I'm laying in my bed in a tank top and my undies with the covers pulled up as high as I can get them. One cat is curled on my lap giving my computer dirty looks for being where he wants to be while the other sits at my feet content being in my company.

Did I mention it was a really long day? A good day, but a really long one. Did I mention I'm hanging out in my undies and a tank top? I really need some time to just stretch out and relax without the constraints of the outside world.

Or pants.

I was perfectly happy to sit here by myself until sleep overtook me but then DrNormal wandered in and in an attempt to keep him here (without getting naked) I turned on Iron Chef.

"Is it a new episode" he asked.

"Yup"

"DID THEY JUST POUR LIQUID NITROGEN ON SOMETHING?"

"Yup"

"Can we watch it?"

"Of course we can"

I continued to surf the internet a bit, catching up on posts I needed to read, looking over a few e-mails I should reply to, adding a friend on upcoming, checking people out on Facebook, you know... evening things.

"OH MY GOD SNAILS" he screamed (like a frickin' girl)

"ugh... snails" I sighed.

Yeah. It's been a long day and I am so not a snail eater.

back at it...

at 6:15 in the morning my little wobbling bobbling alarm clock did it's thing and woke me up.

For it's trouble, I smacked it. It gave me a measly 4 minutes of slumber.

Irritated beyond belief I smacked my clock again and rolled over settled my feet on the floor and stumbled over to the window. If I had to be awake everyone has to be awake. Dr Normal? Get your ass out of bad. K? Up and at it!

breakfast and clothes and tooth brushing? Check.

lunch packed and backpack ready to go? Check.

photos snapped? Check. Check. Check.

that was the easy part of the day.... the hard part was everything that happened between 8 am and now... 11:00

I'm fading fast with a huge stack of paperwork to fill out, email to read, plans to make, and the world to conquer...

I think all that will have to wait until tomorrow.

get what you came for?

It's been a while since I gave you a glimpse into the insanity of other people's minds. My insanity you can take a gander at anytime you want to, really it's fine by me.

Here are some searches that brought people to my blog, some are proper, mundane, common place... Some? I'll let you decide.

camikaos - this is a fine and lovely thing to search for. I encourage people to search for her more often... I hear she's fab.

junk mail - Do you think they figured out how much I HATE junk mail?

kaos clothing for kids - oddly enough I used to design and then decorate onsies and t-shirts for babies and toddlers. It was something I got into when K was born and I had a rash of friends and acquaintances pregnant all at once. They were adorable in a "This baby could so kick your ass" kind of way. I think one of the shirts said something to that effect...

cami bakersfield - I wonder how many times I've mentioned I lived in Bakersfield... I wonder if they were really looking of me or if they were looking for another gal I know named Kami (with a K) who used to live in Bakersfield too. (Hello doppelganger... I miss you)

ton camis two my - I can't even figure out what this means.

there's no such thing as a free lunch, is it free to you - They really should have ended up at Verso's blog.

kaos bong - I don't have one of those.

laughing-gas - It's good. Ask for it by name.

portland pie-off- amazing that someone would find there way HERE looking for that when they so easily could have been directed instead to so many more qualified pages.

dentist gas? authority - I wouldn't call myself and authority on the topic of dentist gas, I've only had it twice... but I'd say I'm much less hesitant to go to the dentist now than I used to be.

mom in higher heels - I've met moms in much higher heels than mine, I think they're a little nuts.

cami recall - Have I been recalled? Am I defective? I wonder if they can just replace the faulty part or if they'll have to issue a refund... Oh bother.

drunk wearing heels - No, I usually take my heels off if I've had too much to drink.

cami stumptown coffee - I'm trying to remember if I've ever even been there... I know I've never blogged about it.

strange love podcast - Thank you, come again!!!

cat sex toys - not on my blog... missburrows might know something on the topic though (except that she's allergic to cats)

lion sex - sex with a lion is a not, however sex with Lion would be hot.

love stories with sex - of course I do, who doesn't?

and last but not least...

can high heel boots catch on fire - Like anything, I'm sure they could if you tried hard enough.

in a breath...

In the space of one breath so much can happen.

Breathe in.

My house stills, night noises start. In her room, the child's eyes flutter to a close after so much resistance. One cat, displeased with the hierarchy in the house, pounces upon another as I stretch my legs and point my toes.

In the other room my husband laughs as he sets his wine glass on the coffee table and I instantly wonder why it's called a coffee table. We never set coffee on it.

Both cats have flown from the foot of the bed as I glance at the clock marveling at the steady passage of time. The laughing in the living room continues as does my stretching, not just my legs and toes, my whole body now. As I arch my back my shirt pulls up to reveal my belly and my eye is held by the shiny naval ring, the same one that I wore when it was pierced 12 years ago.

Breathe out.

paper spam

I hate junk mail, and yes I know that hate is a really strong word but I stand by my use of it. I hate junk mail with a big red hot passion. I hate junk mail so much, thinking about it makes me want to go have sex with my husband, or knock down a wall or something. It inspires real emotion in me.

Hate is totally an emotion.

The thing is that junk mail is just so wasteful. I know that people have a right to do what they want with their own money, plus it's advertising, so I won't get into that aspect of it... but what about all that paper? Which is really all those trees and all that gas used to move the logs that were once the trees that got cut down.

If only I were that in tune with the environment... I frown upon waste, but mostly, it's just that it's one more thing I have to deal with. Do you have any idea how big my "to shred" pile currently is? It's huge. It's 2 bags full of things I need to shred. Likely 90% of the mail that comes into our house is junk mail.

I think I may be underestimating. Normally I tend to exaggerate a bit but in this case I really don't think I am.

So in this huge intake of junk mail is it possible that there could be one particular type of junk mail that really gets to me? Really gets me upset? Credit card offers? Coupons for fast food restaurants? Insurance come ons? No.

It's the newest selection of junk mail we're getting.

Gambling ads. Betting Catalogs. Entire "magazines" dedicated to making wagers.

In the last 10 days we have gotten 3 pieces of junk mail, 3 thick heavy magazines, catalogs, books if you will, full of information, advertisement and charts all dedicated to betting.

You should know that neither DrNormal or I gamble. We are not betters. There is no thrill in it for us, no allure. We have been known to buy a lottery ticket a few times a year on a lark but that's the extent of it...

So why 3 pieces of literature in 10 days with DrNormal's name on them dedicated to gambling.

Who the hell sold his name to them?

I hate junk mail... I'm gonna go shred something.

stoned

Once again I lay in the dentist's chair this morning, mouth uncomfortably held open, lips and cheek stuffed with cotton. I was wearing comfy jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with writing on it... I don't know what that writing says. What matters isn't the writing, it's the comfort.

I put on my sunglasses, placed my headphones into my ears, turned on the music as loud as I could and closed my eyes as the doctor placed a mask over my nose and pumped laughing gas into it.

To keep panic from setting in. To stop my fidgeting. To prevent me from making his job more difficult than it has to be.

I am not an easy dental patient.

As I lay there listening to the jagged tone of Tom Waits voice I floated in and out of awareness. I raised my hand to ask the doctor to back off on the laughing gas. I wanted to be calm, at ease... but I still wanted my wits about me. I wanted to be able to think if for some reason thinking might become necessary.

And I did think, the thoughts came in waves crashing over the haze and as each individual idea came to me I pulled it aside and considered it. Many times in the swirling mist of thoughts I said to myself, I should write about that...

Now if only I had written those things down....

a study in vanity...

since it's been a very long weekend

and since I very recently got a new computer and have just recently gotten time to play with it

and since my hairdresser does a great job shaping my eyebrows

and since there has been a real shortage of CamiKaos self love around these parts lately

and since I'm tired

I present to you a study of my eyes and the surrounding area brought to you by the Photo Booth on my lovely new Mac Book:










(okay really it's just that this was the only way I could think of to talk about my new laptop and my eyebrows in one post... see. I can combine any two topics... I really can)

time is folding

A pocket of time seems to be collapsing in on me. Summer is eating my schedule for breakfast and leaving no leftovers.

Do you ever feel like there are only 12 hours in any given day?

I do.

(that is so my way of saying I have no time for a real post today... I am tiling my floor, getting ready for a visit from several family members, preparing for a party and looking forward to cre8camp and then a BBQ on Saturday... Timelord help me)

***
Tonight on Strange Love Live we'll be joined by Rick Turoczy who, in addition to his many great accomplishments in the tech realm, also has really fantastic hair. Will I ask him about his hair? Probably not, but you never can be sure unless you listen...

We'll be streaming live tonight at 10pm, join us won't you?

what he knows...

I have said before that I'm done with "memes". That I can't do them anymore. That I won't do them anymore. I put my foot down and that, was that.

But then Holly had to go an open her big ol mouth and tag me with this "UU" which in all fairness isn't a meme... and for some reason that damned woman can get me to do things that no one else can... so she said "Jump Cami" and I said "Fuck you".

Then? I asked how high.

What is it that Holly asked me to do? She wanted me to ask my husband three things that he knew about me. I thought about it... really it was more work for him not me so I asked him. He stared at me incredulously and replied with a very straight face "Nothing, nothing and um... oh... NOTHING" and then he tossed me one of his most charming smiles and practically floated out of the room sure that he had won.

I let it go for a day but then just after we finished a lovely dinner I set upon him. I produced a pen and paper from thin air (or maybe it was the kitchen) and then I said: "Alright babe, you've got to suck it up and do this... I need you to tell me three things you know about me, there's no way around it because it's for Holly."

He sighed, knowing defeat when he saw it he prepared to tell me some of the things that our years together have taught him about me, the incomparable CamiKaos... I share them with you now.

-Cami once fought off 2 polar bears in the Alaskan Tundra with her bare hands.

-If you listen carefully to a recording of The Eagles' Hotel California you can hear Cami's voice in the background. She was just a child but it's very clearly her.

- Henry Kissinger once called Cami for advice on brokering a peace deal between the Palestinians and the Israelis.

- Due to her keen interest in philanthropy both Bill Gates and Bono have asked Cami out on a date.

- Cami actually invented twitter.

Wow, Mr. Kaos may not know me as well as I thought...

it's the tooth...

I have no real way of knowing when it is that you read this post because I just kind of put it up here and let you do your thing...

So I can't really say with certainty that as you read this I'm sitting in the dentists chair numbed from here to there getting drilled and filled, but it's possible that is what could be going on while you read it.

But whether it is the case or not you should know that as I write this Sunday night while watching repeats on TiVo it's all I can think about right now...

Frick.

Frick frickety froo froo.

That is to say I can't think of anything better to post tonight. Hopefully tomorrow my tooth will be all fixed up and happy and I'll be able to move onto one of the other varied senseless things I like to babble about.

about the weather...

Really Cami?

Really?

You're going to sit here and write a post about the weather?

I know, I know...

It seems ridiculous for me to sit here and talk to you about the weather, it does. I accept that. I own it. I admit it... it's just that...

Well the thing is...

The past couple of days it hasn't so much been that I didn't have anything to post about as much as it's that I've been preoccupied with a few things, among those things I've been obsessing over the fact that it's June, K is now officially on Summer Vacation and I have been wearing a coat everywhere I go... or at the very least a jacket.

Last night I took K to see a movie at 5:30 and I wore my wool coat. MY WOOL COAT. IN JUNE!!!

What is this Antarctica?

I went to the Farmers Market in the middle of the afternoon and had to wear a jacket... and long pants... and I was still cold.

I'm ready to officially declare this not-summer vacation. Anyone got some Hot Chocolate they want to share?

got nothing...

I was just about to go to bed, I had tucked in the child, spent time with the husband, talked to the cats and decided that any work that needed to be done could wait until another day, because this day... this day had already been long enough.

I finished up a few things on line and was just about to shut my lap top when I realized I had no blog post waiting to post. Nothing lined up. Nothing ready to go.

Shit

I exclaimed...

I think I startled Mr. Kaos.

He looked at me in a mild state of bewilderment before deciding that it was just my normal brand of crazy and he went back to listening to some podcast on his iPhone.

I've got nothing. Today has sapped the strength out of me. It was a day full of nervous anticipation, waiting, watching, holding my breath.

And now that it's finally over? It seems that I've done nothing.

So that's what I'm leaving you with today... OK?

a piece of advice...

If you are a person that goes door to door...

a salesman

a canvasser

a serial rapist or murder...

Please listen:

First of all if you're one of criminal members of that list? KNOCK IT OFF... but for anyone else knocking on doors, if you knock on a door and a woman looks out the window and says "What" and you tell her where your from and she says "No thank you"...

Let it go.

Just walk away.

She doesn't want to open the door. She may have good reason. For starters you could be a violent criminal masquerading as a door to door salesman, religious missionary or political canvasser. Maybe she doesn't like to tempt fate.

Maybe she knows that she is just safer if she doesn't answer the door to strangers.

She probably doesn't take candy from strangers either....

the hidden

As I walk the aisles of the grocery store it remains hidden beneath a pile of fresh produce. Mushrooms, onions, oranges, lettuce, broccoli... they all lay atop it. They mask it's presence with their beautiful colors...

I push on. Finding cheeses, whole grain breads, yogurt, healthy snacks...

At last it's time to check out and I push my tiny shopping cart into the waiting area, careful to place my canvas bag on top of it so that the checker won't accidentally use a paper or plastic bag on my purchase.

It's safe there. beneath the produce, bread, cheese, yogurt and canvas bag. No one knows it's there. My cheeks won't flush pink, I won't have to explain to K why I have it.

No one knows... except the checker who quickly whisks it away into the canvas bag when she sees what it is. She's grown accustomed to me, I think. She knows my habits now... and while it means that someone knows my dark secret... knows what lurks at the bottom of my shopping cart... I can accept it. She's complicit. I'm not alone in my odd crime against nature anymore... The shame is a little easier to bear when it's shared with another...

With it hidden in the canvas bag we start our walk home and smile as tiny drops of rain kiss our faces. As soon as we're in the house I put away the groceries careful to take it out of the bag when K's back is turned... when she won't be able to ask questions. Not knowing what else to do I stow it in the very back of our dark cabinet... and we go about our day.

We made it home in plenty of time after all...

In time for us to share a healthy snack. In time to get K's homework done. In time to play and cuddle. In time to giver her a bath complete with a sudsy Elvis impression. In time to make a healthy meal.

Like a good responsible mama, one who isn't hiding a dark secret.

But now... it's the next day. She's been up and at em... had her breakfast... gone off to school and I'm left home alone with it calling to me from the back of the cupboard.

It knows we're alone.

It knows I can't resist it.


cupcakes are sneaky little devils...

tears of insanity and fish

I normally don't talk about "woman troubles" here.

I think that was by design

but some days... some days I just have to say what I need to say.

to get off my chest what is bothering me

be it real or imaginary...

or maybe just intensely amplified.

You know what I'm saying?

Yeah... you know what I'm saying.

If you don't suffer from the horrible ill effects of fluctuating hormones messing up your mind.heart.soul then you know someone who does...

Right?

Yes. Just fucking say yes before I shiv your ass.

We all on the same page?

Sigh.

Good. Thank you. I was about to start tearing up. Like when I was watching SpongeBob SquarePants earlier with K... and I started to get a little misty.

Or when Mr. Kaos, that evil sonofabitch, told me the house smelled like fish.

(it soooo smells like fish because we cooked some fish that smelled like fish... sucks. But he didn't have to tell me. I already know it smells like fish... I've been febreezing the hell out of everything. I've got the vinegar out and the incense... it's a burning)

What was I saying?

Oh.. yeah. I'm just not right in the head right now.

I can't wait for the next 24ish hours to pass...

maybe I should self medicate?

fit friends

Oh how we're gaining momentum towards our Fit February.

(Isn't that the dumbest name I could think of? Yes, yes it is)

we have people

PEOPLE joining in with this whole happy healthy exercise thing.

How many people you may ask??? Well at last count... when I wrote this...

Twenty Two.

22

That's a lot of us. We could totally overthrow the world with that many brilliant minds and fit bodies...

What?

You wanna know who they are? Well then without further ado...

me

mr. kaos

my cousin mie

her boytoy... err.. um.. friend MM

my daddy

my boo, sybil

marcus, who I've known since 8th grade

the lovely lisa milton

holly who started it all with her crazed month of chocolate deprivation

ummm yeah... that picture is babs... but jo's the one who'll be working out

avery (and the girls)

dan who has a truly touching reason for getting in shape

vocal vixen 123valerie

fellow author and choconot kimberly

it's not just lori doing it, it's her whole family

leendaluu who should contact me about an image I should insert unless she wants me to use a cow... I've already done a badge with an ostrich...

amy who has been working on getting in shape anyway, maybe she can give us some helpful hints after she contacts me about an image I should insert

groovy mom who (you guessed it) should contact me about an image I should insert

missburrows, fellow portland metro area dweller who should contact me about an image I should insert

velma who should also contact me about what image she would like unless she wants me to use velma from scooby doo... cause I totally would love to.

lilacspecs who I just met and seems very interesting but she too needs to talk to me about an image


and landismom, political darling, who should also tell me what kind of an image she would like.

So those are the wonderful 22 people who've currently signed on to work out 3 times a week in the month of February.

What? You think we're crazy?

Maybe... but it's a darn sight better than giving up chocolate for (another) month or trying to write 50,000 words in 30 days...


*****

If you want to join us and see your name over there on the official Fit Friends link list let me know... I'll even make you a handy dandy little badge just for you...

Already joined and like a dumbass I somehow missed you in this recap? Yell at me.

If your badge has no image, just text and a big red heart, you're welcome to use it the way it is but I would rather customize it for you with an image to your liking.

Hate the image on the badge I made you... you'll live... Really really hate it? Okay, let me know.

strange compliment from a liberal...

last night Mr. Kaos and I were having one of our late night talks...

It encompassed many things: our lives, macabre humor and of course politics, as it is the season.

Alas it was growing late and I told Mr. Kaos I needed to get some sleep. A long day of caring for a child with a bad cold and fever had warn me out...

CK: Goodnight sweetheart

MK: Yeah but don't you think that...

CK: No, it's too late to think. I need to go to sleep. You need to go to sleep too baby.

MK: Cami?

CK: Yeah babe?

MK: You're my Nancy Reagan.

CK: I love you too.

writing with the muse...

I started writing when I was young. Just a child.

I almost think I learned to read so that I would have the power to put pen to page and make words of my own.

I wrote little poems, short short stories, bits of prose.

They all had one thing in common. One theme if you will...

they were miserable, dramatic, depressed, angst ridden.

I wrote at my darkest most miserable moments. Everything that poured from my heart and my mind was dark. It caused problems more than once when my words were discovered by someone who didn't know where I was coming from, someone who didn't know me.

I tried and tired to write something beautiful and light, something inspiring and joyous. It wasn't to be. I wrote dark words, beautiful, but dark, until I was 22 years old.

Then I stopped.

What happened?

I'm honestly not terribly sure. Something snapped and I was no longer enamored with my dark images, my bloody words, my written sorrow. I wasn't depressed, I wasn't miserable, I wasn't tormented.

I wasn't happy either.

When the words didn't come readily. When they brought me no relief. No comfort... I stopped.

Years passed.

and I didn't write. and I didn't create. and I didn't feel that intense connection between me and the page.

At some point it broke my heart, but what was a dark hearted goth writing girl to do when her muse, whether melancholy or treacherous, wouldn't come.

Nothing. I was to do nothing.

I made art. I took photos. I thought that if I could create something that was... beautiful, dark, light, bright, airy, starry, horrific or charming I would be inspired to to say something. To write something.

To be me.

Alas and alack, that was not to be either.

So how did I get to where I am now?

Writing everyday? Pouring my heart mind and insanity out to anyone who'll happen by? Editing a novel?

I realized one day that what once gave me so much inspiration, so much dark bliss, the macabre that used to bring me so much material to work from, was no longer a meaningful part of my life.

I was a woman, not a girl. I was in a happy marriage, not an angsty unstable relationship. I had a beautiful little girl, not a pet rat named Redd. My days were filled with family, and though I found challenges in my life, they were not the same ones I faced in earlier times.

I realized that in order to write I had to know who I was, who I had become, who I wanted to be or my literary voice would be silenced.

So I wrote about me. I wrote about her. I wrote about him. My family. The three of us. I took up where I left off, with poetry. The first piece I wrote was stupid. The words didn't come to me easily. They were tight and nothing flowed the way I would have it.

I realized that poetry wasn't the way to go. It wasn't in my heart anymore.

Leaving behind the darkness wasn't enough. I had to leave behind my preconceptions and learn to write something completely different, from a happier place...

I think it was just the change I needed, and so far I think I'm succeeding.

down to business...

I have no time for any of those flowery words or fancy alliterations today... It's time we get down to business.

There are things to do. Matters to discuss. Stuff to talk about...

And where oh where do I begin?

Perhaps we'll start with the biggest chunk of business I'm dealing with... my book. Remember that thing I did back in November? Well until a few days ago I hadn't done more than tossed it a dirty look from across the room, but now? Now I'm in full on edit mode.

And by edit I mean fix egregious typos. Is that editing?

No... it's more like pre-editing because for any serious editing I'm handing the thing off to a man I know... but that's later. It's too soon for that now.

Why? Why would you even ask why? Isn't it obvious? It needs to be PRE edited. Plus I'm in the midst of letting a select few brilliant souls with minds that I hope are able to see through the horrible typos and severe need for editing read it.

Enough of my book... let's move on to another matter at hand.

Blogging. I do it. Frequently. Almost everyday. Recently I was asked to contribute to a place that I should feel right at home, The Bad Mommy Blog. I know, bad, mommy, blog. All things I love right? Maybe it will be a nice fit, only time will tell. Or I don't know maybe people will. If you feel so inclined you can check out my first two posts. Don't be shy about saying 'hey' to the other ladies too.

And then last but certainly not least is the award..

AN AWARD!!

Oh CamiKaos loves awards... the only question is which do I love more; receiving the awards or presenting the awards?

Hmm... I think it's an even draw. Okay it's not. Oh hell I don't know... so maybe I should just keep moving right along and tell you that the award I've been graced with this time is the:

F bomb award. Isn't it lovely? All effy and bomby with the little sparkling fuse. I am honored Mie, to add this pretty thing to my trophy case... thank you.

Now who shall I give it to? Think think think? Who deserves and would benefit from an award as glorious and prestigious as this?

I think I know! My new pals over at The Bad Mommy Blog... I barely know any of you but I know you all deserve this... For being bad mothers (shut your mouth) I'm handing this out to Bridget, BecauseIcan, Expensive Mistakes and Cheap Thrills, Angel, Sheena Gates, Stephanie, Sweetass RSA and Kerryn.

Enjoy ladies, and make the most of it.