i'm always at my wits end over the mess in my girls' bedroom. we argue about it all the time. i say i can't understand how it can possibly get so messy. i say i can't even come in there anymore cause it just makes me so mad. i tell them they need to clean it. tomorrow. i say this everyday. then i say you are cleaning your room this weekend. do not go downstairs to watch cartoons, do not pass go. do not collect $200. clean your room. and they want to know what do not collect $200 means and i just say it means clean your room. and they say oh so earnestly we'll clean our room mommy, we promise. usually, they'll make some attempts, but mostly stuff is shoved under the bed, under the rug and in drawers. and then they start crying about how hard it is or argue about who isn't helping and pulling their cleaning weight and please can they just leave their room to have breakfast. so they come down for breakfast and then our day gets started or we all go off to some bike race and we forget all about the messy room till the next weekend.
my husband says that they know i will eventually break down and clean it myself. so they don't really give it their all. so i bite my tongue and don't touch a darn thing. i say i won't cave. insist their room can stay that way till the cows come home. i. will. not. cave.
i totally caved today. couldn't take it anymore. and we have guests coming. it's not like i really had two free hours to clean the room. i had a bunch of work to do. writing newsletters, water bottle orders, banner designs, race results to look up, laundry to fold, dishes to do, a house to vaccuum, school forms to sign, checks to write and halloween decorations to put up. but i caved and cleaned their room along with all that other stuff too. and cleaning their room included rearranging it. i love to rearrange.
so they come home from school. they take out their homework and have their snack of halloween cookies nice and warm from the oven. and then, they go upstairs and come running back down mommy! mommy! our room looks beautiful! thank you!
and they hug me.
and then, annabel says to me you should be a housekeeper.
Oct 14, 2008
Oct 12, 2008
so that's what it feels like to race cross!
today i finally, finally! got a taste of what everyone is talking about in regards to a cyclocross race. there was dry heaving, there was blurry vision, there were thoughts of throwingupbutsaveittilltheraceisover, there was omgthisissofuckinghardicantbelieveit, there was pleasedeargodwhenisitover and it was awesome.
i pre-rode the course with my husband and could not hide the shit eating grin on my face. within seconds of starting to ride it, i totally, absolutely loved the course. this course was mine. it was made for me. and this has never happened. it was all swoopy and flowy and had a bunch of long climbs including one crazy one after the dreaded downhill 180 degree turn into steep climb and two ginormous sand pits and very little crazy jacked up technical shit and it was perfect. it was 'cross course love at first ride.
they did call ups again at the start and i love the call ups. this was a UCI 1 race, which means it's the big time. i thought friday's field was deep, but it had nothing on today's' field. i think there were about 30 women lined up - about 15 in my race (masters' women 35+). usually, as i sit on the line of a 'cross race, i'm scared shitless about what lays ahead. i'm worried about turns or barriers or remounts or trees or getting impaled by a stake should i fall into one, or maybe an eagle will come out of the sky and pluck me off my bike. but today? i was so excited about the course, i could not wait to start riding it again. could. not. wait.
so the whistle blows and we're off. these races usually start on a wide open road and then turn into a narrow opening - the hole shot. (which is another one of those things that scare the bloody shit out of me). but i was not dead last going into this turn and the fact that i was just pumped to ride the course and not dead last at the start was a great feeling.
so i'm racing. and i'm really racing for the first time ever. there's no death grip on the bars, i feel good, in control and relaxed. that said: my mouth is parched, and i sorta want to throw up and i am riding so hard that at times its' hard to see, and i am not even thinking about the turns, or the stakes or the fact that i have brakes on my bike or how many girls i have passed because counting them off would have taken too much brain power. i am amazed at how fast i can do the little downhill and keep some serious speed into the uphill with a turn at the top and when i turn and my back wheel skids out a bit, but i keep pedaling and realize i didn't die, and i think i am totally cool and badass.
my stellar race was not the only awesome thing about the day. i met judi and dominic, and we totally chatted and hung out for a bit both before and after my race - and i heard judi cheering for me as i hit one of the sand pits (running, not riding!). i'm pretty sure they loved the whole cyclocross thing - i don't even know dominic, but definitely saw a little twinkle in his eye and am willing to bet there are two more 'cross converts in the world!
it was a big 3 race weekend of cyclocross - i raced 2 days and my husband raced all three (and is currently in a post race stupor of a coma on the couch - the beer may fall out of his hand and hit the floor momentarily). my husband got a top ten on saturday and sunday and a sweet 2nd place podium on friday. every woman on my team who raced got a top 10 finish (in ginormous fields!) each day including yours truly.
but now, my house looks as if we've been racing all weekend and we have usgp houseguests coming soon and i need to clean the house and the airstream and get banners and business cards made and get back to real life. as soon as i come down from my 'crossy high.
i pre-rode the course with my husband and could not hide the shit eating grin on my face. within seconds of starting to ride it, i totally, absolutely loved the course. this course was mine. it was made for me. and this has never happened. it was all swoopy and flowy and had a bunch of long climbs including one crazy one after the dreaded downhill 180 degree turn into steep climb and two ginormous sand pits and very little crazy jacked up technical shit and it was perfect. it was 'cross course love at first ride.
they did call ups again at the start and i love the call ups. this was a UCI 1 race, which means it's the big time. i thought friday's field was deep, but it had nothing on today's' field. i think there were about 30 women lined up - about 15 in my race (masters' women 35+). usually, as i sit on the line of a 'cross race, i'm scared shitless about what lays ahead. i'm worried about turns or barriers or remounts or trees or getting impaled by a stake should i fall into one, or maybe an eagle will come out of the sky and pluck me off my bike. but today? i was so excited about the course, i could not wait to start riding it again. could. not. wait.
so the whistle blows and we're off. these races usually start on a wide open road and then turn into a narrow opening - the hole shot. (which is another one of those things that scare the bloody shit out of me). but i was not dead last going into this turn and the fact that i was just pumped to ride the course and not dead last at the start was a great feeling.
so i'm racing. and i'm really racing for the first time ever. there's no death grip on the bars, i feel good, in control and relaxed. that said: my mouth is parched, and i sorta want to throw up and i am riding so hard that at times its' hard to see, and i am not even thinking about the turns, or the stakes or the fact that i have brakes on my bike or how many girls i have passed because counting them off would have taken too much brain power. i am amazed at how fast i can do the little downhill and keep some serious speed into the uphill with a turn at the top and when i turn and my back wheel skids out a bit, but i keep pedaling and realize i didn't die, and i think i am totally cool and badass.
and thinking "you are rocking this race" and "i totally love this course" is infinitely better than: "you are not cut out for this" and "you're a pussy, hang it up".
in the past three races, i always finished with a ton left in the tank, because my skills and energy level (and irrational fears) never quite jived with each other. i would slow down and brake too much when things got too technical or when i was coming upon anything i deemed remotely "scary". but today's course suited me so well, i was finally able to race as hard as my energy level would allow. i left it all out there. finished with nothing left in the tank. i finally got to feel what it is like to race 'cross. really race it - not ride timidly for two laps and have a good last lap, but to race it right from the whistle to the very end. and its' awesome.
in the past three races, i always finished with a ton left in the tank, because my skills and energy level (and irrational fears) never quite jived with each other. i would slow down and brake too much when things got too technical or when i was coming upon anything i deemed remotely "scary". but today's course suited me so well, i was finally able to race as hard as my energy level would allow. i left it all out there. finished with nothing left in the tank. i finally got to feel what it is like to race 'cross. really race it - not ride timidly for two laps and have a good last lap, but to race it right from the whistle to the very end. and its' awesome.
my stellar race was not the only awesome thing about the day. i met judi and dominic, and we totally chatted and hung out for a bit both before and after my race - and i heard judi cheering for me as i hit one of the sand pits (running, not riding!). i'm pretty sure they loved the whole cyclocross thing - i don't even know dominic, but definitely saw a little twinkle in his eye and am willing to bet there are two more 'cross converts in the world!
and then this: georgia gould might just be the coolest chick ever. she races in the later afternoon elite pro races, but is at the course for the first races in the morning; she's on the sidelines, with a cowbell cheering everyone on. and i mean everyone. no matter who you are or where you are in the pack, she has something specific to say to you that keeps you going. i heard her at the barriers say "i know it hurts girl, keep going". omg. georgia gould just said she knows how i feel and told me to keep going. i heart georgia gould.
it was a big 3 race weekend of cyclocross - i raced 2 days and my husband raced all three (and is currently in a post race stupor of a coma on the couch - the beer may fall out of his hand and hit the floor momentarily). my husband got a top ten on saturday and sunday and a sweet 2nd place podium on friday. every woman on my team who raced got a top 10 finish (in ginormous fields!) each day including yours truly.
but now, my house looks as if we've been racing all weekend and we have usgp houseguests coming soon and i need to clean the house and the airstream and get banners and business cards made and get back to real life. as soon as i come down from my 'crossy high.
Oct 11, 2008
while the kids are at school...
yesterday morning, just like any other weekday - we got up at 5:50 to start the process of getting 3 kids off to school. but yesterday, instead of getting them off to school & walking back in house to dothedishesandsomelaundryandsomework, we drove to burlington kentucky (about an hour and a half away) for a 'cross race.
which was sort of exciting. felt like we were sneaking in some decadent racing while the kids were gone. and we didn't have to pack coloring books and game boys and dolls and bikes and snacks out the wazoo. we could just throw some bags and two friends in the car and take off.
but mostly? yesterday's cx race was pretty uneventful.
the most exciting part (for me) was the very start. actually, it was before the whistle even blew. they were doing 'call ups' to the start line. this means that instead of everyone lining up willy nilly and hoping to hell you get a good spot, you get called up to the start line according to your standings in the series. when they started to call up masters' women, they called my name first & i got first pick of where i wanted to line up. and if i had really known the best position in which to be to go shit ass fast at the whistle to try and get through that right hand turn in the front of the pack it would have been even cooler. but i don't really know what i am doing. so i just picked the same spot my teammate did when she got called up first in women's open.
it's cool to be called up first. but that cool feeling lasted about 30 seconds for me, cause after the whistle blew, i was pedaling my little ass off and oh so briefly felt pretty happy about my placement and knew there were a bunch of girls behind me; but soon enough every last one of them passed me. and now the girl who got called up first was dead last. ugh.
i managed to move up two spots. and then kept trading spots with another girl for almost two full laps. it actually made things more interesting - we both had opposite strengths: i knew i could get her on the little hills, straightaways and road portions. she knew she'd get me back again in the turns. we discussed this at length after the race - praising each other strengths & lamenting about our shortcomings. we chatted sometimes during the race as we passed each other. we both agreed that the barriers were crazy high and that the best way to take those bike-busting gulleys was at an angle.
i don't have much experience with courses and so don't have much to compare it to; but this one sorta sucked. it was crazy, insanely bumpy, and at one point i couldn't really see - thought my eyes might pop out of their sockets. relaxing my death grip on bars seemed to alleviate that but then just made the flab on my arms feel like it was going to bounce right off. i did, however nail every single dismount. remounts still leave a lot to be desired - the joachim parbo superman remount works for me during practice when i go back and forth in a slow straight line but not so much in a race. i think someone even yelled to me "just get back on the bike any old way!". there were even some parts about the course that i actually liked, dare i say - enjoyed: there were some turny zigzags through some trees. and for me to like turny zig zags through trees (and to not use my brakes!) is unprecedented. to nail every dismount also unprecedented. to not get lapped by any "on your left ma'am" whipersnapper, also unprecedented. to lap dudes off the back of race in front also unprecedented. so. that's progress.
i went into the race thinking "i just gotta ride my race" - and not worry about who is in front of me or final placements and all that blahblahblah. just ride. the thing is: my race isn't very fast. my race tends to be slightly tense and anxious. that said, each lap is faster than the one previous, and with each passing lap i settle in a little more; there is less anxiety and subsequently more energy; but by then, the race is over, and its too late. (note to self: pre-ride more than 2 laps). but the fact that i enjoyed any single stretch of the actual race (and not just the post race brew) is new and fun. i actually rode a little bit better than i ever have and although my results dont show it (also - deepest field to date); weensy progress is being made; one lap, one crazy cross race at a time. so. that was it. after the race, we milled about forever waiting for results, and my husband's second place podium shot. (thank you, brian)
and then, we just hauled ass back to louisville in time to pick kids up at school.
which was sort of exciting. felt like we were sneaking in some decadent racing while the kids were gone. and we didn't have to pack coloring books and game boys and dolls and bikes and snacks out the wazoo. we could just throw some bags and two friends in the car and take off.
but mostly? yesterday's cx race was pretty uneventful.
the most exciting part (for me) was the very start. actually, it was before the whistle even blew. they were doing 'call ups' to the start line. this means that instead of everyone lining up willy nilly and hoping to hell you get a good spot, you get called up to the start line according to your standings in the series. when they started to call up masters' women, they called my name first & i got first pick of where i wanted to line up. and if i had really known the best position in which to be to go shit ass fast at the whistle to try and get through that right hand turn in the front of the pack it would have been even cooler. but i don't really know what i am doing. so i just picked the same spot my teammate did when she got called up first in women's open.
it's cool to be called up first. but that cool feeling lasted about 30 seconds for me, cause after the whistle blew, i was pedaling my little ass off and oh so briefly felt pretty happy about my placement and knew there were a bunch of girls behind me; but soon enough every last one of them passed me. and now the girl who got called up first was dead last. ugh.
i managed to move up two spots. and then kept trading spots with another girl for almost two full laps. it actually made things more interesting - we both had opposite strengths: i knew i could get her on the little hills, straightaways and road portions. she knew she'd get me back again in the turns. we discussed this at length after the race - praising each other strengths & lamenting about our shortcomings. we chatted sometimes during the race as we passed each other. we both agreed that the barriers were crazy high and that the best way to take those bike-busting gulleys was at an angle.
i don't have much experience with courses and so don't have much to compare it to; but this one sorta sucked. it was crazy, insanely bumpy, and at one point i couldn't really see - thought my eyes might pop out of their sockets. relaxing my death grip on bars seemed to alleviate that but then just made the flab on my arms feel like it was going to bounce right off. i did, however nail every single dismount. remounts still leave a lot to be desired - the joachim parbo superman remount works for me during practice when i go back and forth in a slow straight line but not so much in a race. i think someone even yelled to me "just get back on the bike any old way!". there were even some parts about the course that i actually liked, dare i say - enjoyed: there were some turny zigzags through some trees. and for me to like turny zig zags through trees (and to not use my brakes!) is unprecedented. to nail every dismount also unprecedented. to not get lapped by any "on your left ma'am" whipersnapper, also unprecedented. to lap dudes off the back of race in front also unprecedented. so. that's progress.
i went into the race thinking "i just gotta ride my race" - and not worry about who is in front of me or final placements and all that blahblahblah. just ride. the thing is: my race isn't very fast. my race tends to be slightly tense and anxious. that said, each lap is faster than the one previous, and with each passing lap i settle in a little more; there is less anxiety and subsequently more energy; but by then, the race is over, and its too late. (note to self: pre-ride more than 2 laps). but the fact that i enjoyed any single stretch of the actual race (and not just the post race brew) is new and fun. i actually rode a little bit better than i ever have and although my results dont show it (also - deepest field to date); weensy progress is being made; one lap, one crazy cross race at a time. so. that was it. after the race, we milled about forever waiting for results, and my husband's second place podium shot. (thank you, brian)
and then, we just hauled ass back to louisville in time to pick kids up at school.
Oct 7, 2008
the dane
a shameless crush was born last year when the usgp came to town and a good friend of ours (also happens to be usgp promoter) thrust some steno pads & pens into our hands with the instructions to "go into the press tent and pretend to be press" - because basically, around here, if its not a race with a horse in it, its not worth covering - and the press tent was shamefully empty. so my husband and i sat in the tent wearing press badges and were totally enthralled by all the pro cx racers we found ourselves sitting next to. ok, my husband was busy being enthralled by wendy simms and my eyes were glued on the pretty boy in red hamming it up for the cameras.
the pretty boy in red was joachim parbo. lets just say i was slightly obsessed last year. did a lot of cheering and cowbell ringing for the dane.
the dane is here in my town. and the dane held a 'cross clinic at my 'cross course tonight. hello. sign me up.
so. we're at the cross course. and its raining. for like, the first time in 40 days and 40 nights. the dane in red calls everyone over, and does some talking. i dont know what he says. he's too pretty. and red is a very distracting color for shorts. but then, he says - "put the bikes down, time for warm up". i think maybe we are going to do some calisthenics or something. nope. he just yells "follow!" and takes off running. and so, we all run after the dane. down the muddy hill, around the cones he has set up, up the little slope, down into pit, up little hill, around cones ... you get the picture. actually, i wish someone had gotten a picture - it had to be hysterical. all i thought was "hey! running?! i can do this!"
we do a whole bunch of drills, the first ones of which involved crazyfuckingtightturns around some cones that are placed freakishly close to each other. you know that whole thing about - looking where you want to go - don't look where you don't want to go, cause that's where you'll go? yep. so true.
cause i'm looking at the cone, thinking "i don't want to run into that cone", and as i'm thinking this i'm staring at the cone and then of course i crash right into the cone right as the dane is watching and i crash and fall in dog poop. dog. poop. only i had no idea i fell in dog poop until we were on drill number 3 and i looked at my leg and i thought "that looks like dog poop" and i wiped at it with my glove & smelled my glove and yes indeedy that is dog poop on my leg. and while i am looking for leaves to wipe it off, the dane is demonstrating how to dismount while careening down the muddy hill into a tight turn with a run up and if you blink you will miss his dismount. and i missed it cause i had dog poop on my leg.
now it was off the the sand pits. we all gather round the dane in the red shorts for a demonstration and a chat about sand pits and then we all take our turns through the pit. i bit it the first time and the dane is screaming at me "get up! get up!". (cause i'm about to get run over by a kabillion people). i may have bit it the next time too. another time, as i am coming through; this crazy dane in red is screaming at me: "no fucking way! no fucking way are you coming in here that slow!" another time he is screaming something else at me and i don't care how pretty he is anymore and i hate those red shorts and i wonder why i ever had a schoolgirl crush on this crazy screaming dane and i don't like him anymore. and i scream "shutup!" right back to him to which he responds "i will not shut up! go faster!" i made it through the pit that time. (my husband is convinced that getting me fired up & pissed off is the only thing that will make me go faster). good god, do i have to go through this pit and be screamed at again? but, like a lemming, around i go ... all the while thinking: higher cadence, floatfloatfloat, pedalpedalpedal, trytolookgoodinfrontofthedane ... and i am trying to go as fast as hell and i hit the sand, and midway through start to lose speed ... next thing i know - the dane has got his hands on my ass. i repeat - the dane has his hands on my ass. and he's pushing me through the sand and up the hill and i yell "thanks!" as i roll away. and i think:
ok.
the danes' hands on my ass totally makes up for all the yelling at me.
i can be so easily swayed.
there were more drills. dismounts, remounts. he told me to lower my saddle one centimeter. and he told me to keep practicing. (and in a low moment, i wondered if this was danish for "you suck"). i got some great tips on remounts and i got to practice riding in the pouring rain and mud. and i got a nice big push through the sand from the dane. and this is english for his hands were all over my ass. it was a fun night.
the pretty boy in red was joachim parbo. lets just say i was slightly obsessed last year. did a lot of cheering and cowbell ringing for the dane.
the dane is here in my town. and the dane held a 'cross clinic at my 'cross course tonight. hello. sign me up.
so. we're at the cross course. and its raining. for like, the first time in 40 days and 40 nights. the dane in red calls everyone over, and does some talking. i dont know what he says. he's too pretty. and red is a very distracting color for shorts. but then, he says - "put the bikes down, time for warm up". i think maybe we are going to do some calisthenics or something. nope. he just yells "follow!" and takes off running. and so, we all run after the dane. down the muddy hill, around the cones he has set up, up the little slope, down into pit, up little hill, around cones ... you get the picture. actually, i wish someone had gotten a picture - it had to be hysterical. all i thought was "hey! running?! i can do this!"
we do a whole bunch of drills, the first ones of which involved crazyfuckingtightturns around some cones that are placed freakishly close to each other. you know that whole thing about - looking where you want to go - don't look where you don't want to go, cause that's where you'll go? yep. so true.
cause i'm looking at the cone, thinking "i don't want to run into that cone", and as i'm thinking this i'm staring at the cone and then of course i crash right into the cone right as the dane is watching and i crash and fall in dog poop. dog. poop. only i had no idea i fell in dog poop until we were on drill number 3 and i looked at my leg and i thought "that looks like dog poop" and i wiped at it with my glove & smelled my glove and yes indeedy that is dog poop on my leg. and while i am looking for leaves to wipe it off, the dane is demonstrating how to dismount while careening down the muddy hill into a tight turn with a run up and if you blink you will miss his dismount. and i missed it cause i had dog poop on my leg.
now it was off the the sand pits. we all gather round the dane in the red shorts for a demonstration and a chat about sand pits and then we all take our turns through the pit. i bit it the first time and the dane is screaming at me "get up! get up!". (cause i'm about to get run over by a kabillion people). i may have bit it the next time too. another time, as i am coming through; this crazy dane in red is screaming at me: "no fucking way! no fucking way are you coming in here that slow!" another time he is screaming something else at me and i don't care how pretty he is anymore and i hate those red shorts and i wonder why i ever had a schoolgirl crush on this crazy screaming dane and i don't like him anymore. and i scream "shutup!" right back to him to which he responds "i will not shut up! go faster!" i made it through the pit that time. (my husband is convinced that getting me fired up & pissed off is the only thing that will make me go faster). good god, do i have to go through this pit and be screamed at again? but, like a lemming, around i go ... all the while thinking: higher cadence, floatfloatfloat, pedalpedalpedal, trytolookgoodinfrontofthedane ... and i am trying to go as fast as hell and i hit the sand, and midway through start to lose speed ... next thing i know - the dane has got his hands on my ass. i repeat - the dane has his hands on my ass. and he's pushing me through the sand and up the hill and i yell "thanks!" as i roll away. and i think:
ok.
the danes' hands on my ass totally makes up for all the yelling at me.
i can be so easily swayed.
there were more drills. dismounts, remounts. he told me to lower my saddle one centimeter. and he told me to keep practicing. (and in a low moment, i wondered if this was danish for "you suck"). i got some great tips on remounts and i got to practice riding in the pouring rain and mud. and i got a nice big push through the sand from the dane. and this is english for his hands were all over my ass. it was a fun night.
Oct 3, 2008
clandestine 'cross
we have a friend who speaks of a far off distant land called portland. he regaled us with stories of strange lawless people there who engage in underground, illicit 'cross races. he would tell us in hushed tones about how everyone is secretly notified of the gathering place - mere hours before the questionable and possibly objectionable activity is to take place. and of how they all ride off to the unknown race location; to blatantly trespass and race their bikes at dusk. it was like the hash house harriers of cyclocross. only there was no flour marking a trail. maybe just a flag and some orange paint if you were lucky.
we got the email around noon with the meeting place. aliases and alibis were encouraged. i was on the fence about whether to race or just take pictures. because really, who doesn't want to document blatant lawlessness? but also, i kept thinking that one of us should remain law-abiding citizens. i pictured calling our son from the precinct: hey henry, mommy & daddy are in jail, can you put the girls to bed? we're gonna be a while. although it did occur to me that a mugshot would make an awesome avatar. i might have decided to document the alleged lawlessness as well as participate in it.
i can't really tell you where we were. or what exactly we were doing, cause then - well, you know the drill - i'd have to kill you. but we may have been trespassing at an undisclosed location as we raced our bikes at dusk, in blatant view of the soccer moms. there may have been an ass-kicking mandatory run up that by the 4th lap most were walking up. there might have been a death-defying field of walnuts that we had to ride through. there may have been some swigging of some bourbon from a birdy flask. there might have been some cheating and course cutting which is actually the only legal thing about the race and totally encouraged.
but i wouldn't know about any of those things. i wasn't there. and you didn't hear this from me.
we got the email around noon with the meeting place. aliases and alibis were encouraged. i was on the fence about whether to race or just take pictures. because really, who doesn't want to document blatant lawlessness? but also, i kept thinking that one of us should remain law-abiding citizens. i pictured calling our son from the precinct: hey henry, mommy & daddy are in jail, can you put the girls to bed? we're gonna be a while. although it did occur to me that a mugshot would make an awesome avatar. i might have decided to document the alleged lawlessness as well as participate in it.
i can't really tell you where we were. or what exactly we were doing, cause then - well, you know the drill - i'd have to kill you. but we may have been trespassing at an undisclosed location as we raced our bikes at dusk, in blatant view of the soccer moms. there may have been an ass-kicking mandatory run up that by the 4th lap most were walking up. there might have been a death-defying field of walnuts that we had to ride through. there may have been some swigging of some bourbon from a birdy flask. there might have been some cheating and course cutting which is actually the only legal thing about the race and totally encouraged.
but i wouldn't know about any of those things. i wasn't there. and you didn't hear this from me.
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