I got that Bob Barker suit game and plinko in my style. MONEY.

It wouldn't be a true semester of college done by yours truly if we didn't have one of these posts where I procrastinate writing a paper by using the crappiest version of photobooth and let you into my sleep deprived mind and my apartment past visiting hours. WUT UP.

And this night is definitely that night that always seems to pop up like the annoying relative on Thanksgiving. I can't avoid it. I just can't.

Care to reminisce?

Last years posts are available for your viewing pleasure and introduction in the links provided below:

Fall 2012

Winter 2013

And now.......

Fall 2013

Wut

Doublewut

This is the best "space" face I could imagine. 

What faces do astronauts even make in space?

Or does gravity force their faces into uncontrollable contortions?

Do you think they wear homemade space sweatshirts in space?

"And I don't want the world to see me....

.....cuz I don't think that they'd understand."

Are you seduced yet? 

I grabbed the closest object and put it on my head. Deal with it.

Coke even made a special appearance. As she does every year.

Throwing dem signs like I'm Iron Man or sumthin

Straight up G. 

CUZ I LIVE IN G7, YO.

hey

Oh wait. One second. I'm on the phone with Dan Reynolds.

Haters gonna hate.

Rotaters gonna rotate

And the best news of all??

My hair is DEFS growing. 

It goes out of the frame in this pixture so I call that a win.

And the sleep deprivation is totes kicking in as shown by me spelling the word "picture" as "pixture".

Not even going to bother changing it.

Yep.

UNTIL NEXT SEMESTER, DAWGS.

Givin' the academy a rain check

There once was a time in my life that was similar to what it is like now. I was also a sophomore like I am now. So apparently, it has taken me more than 4 years to learn that particular lesson as I have been presented with almost the exact same scenario. So I’ll tell you a story and you can decide what’s really happening the second time around here.

I was a sophomore in high school. I was in band. I was on the JV ballroom team. And I was happy.

I really was! 

I felt like I fit in. My sophomore year of high school on most days were genuinely like hell to me, but ballroom was where I truly made my friends that year. I enjoyed my teammates and even though I was “only on JV”, our team definitely had a lot of fun and unexpected success. Looking back on the history of Timpview Ballroom, we were undoubtedly and unarguably the best Junior Varsity team that company ever saw- you can ask any coach that. Our team was made up of a lot of sophomores and a lot of new recruits who had never been on a real ballroom team before, but we all decided we were going to make something of ourselves and be as successful as we could be.  But come the final countdown of school days before winter break, a decision was placed before me that changed how I saw things.

 A senior girl from the company’s Varsity team had announced she was quitting come the end of the semester, and you better believe with that announcement came speculation of who the coaches would choose to replace her. I didn't really mind or care much as I was happy where I was. I also didn't think that I would even be considered for Varsity, because honestly, I was not by any means the best dancer or had the best technique or could even be compared to the dancers on the Varsity team. So you could say I was taken off my guard when come one day over the intercom the booming voice said, 

“Would Nicole Hopkinson please report to the ballroom office immediately?”

Being myself, however, I didn’t think it was regarding being moved up a team; my mind immediately raced to all the things I could have possibly done wrong to cause my coaches to summon me to their lair in the confines of Studio C (No really, it was called Studio C). So when I was offered a spot on Varsity right then and there, I kind of just sat there and stared at my coaches. And I then had to ask myself if that was something that I really wanted and if that would make me happy.

“There’s a good chance you won’t be placed on our competing team to dance at nationals. You would basically be an alternate and wouldn't get much floor time. You might be able to learn a couple routines before the spring concert, but we just need another girl in case something happens.”

That’s basically what was said to me regarding my expectations should I accept. In addition to those wonderful conditions, I would have to leave all my friends on JV- my best friends at the time. I didn't know practically anyone on Varsity and they intimidated me to no extent. Would that make me happy? No. I wouldn't be able to compete and perform the routine that my teammates and I had been working for so long on. Would that make me happy? No. And the reason that swayed me most was another girl on the team. She was a senior and she was on JV- not something that was very common that year. She would have been a lot happier on Varsity, yet there just wasn't enough spots for her on the strictly configured team. She was also an amazing dancer! Why they didn't consider her before me, I will never know, but I couldn't take that spot on Varsity with a clean and fair conscience. Would taking her rightfully deserved spot make me happy? No.

So, long story short, as I thought about all this, I didn't want that. I can tell you without a doubt in my mind that I was the only girl on the Timpview Ballroom Junior Varsity team that would have even thought about rejecting the offer. Most – if not all – girls would have said yes without hesitation. And here I was, trying to convince myself and forge reasons why I should accept the golden offer. Well, I've never been like the other girls, have I now? So I thanked my coaches for the offer, kindly declined, and told them they should move Mindy up because she deserved it more.

Mindy was moved up to Varsity the next day and I never regretted that decision in the slightest.

And now, here I am 4 years later in almost the exact same position. I’m happy. I’m comfortable. There are little expectations of me and I finally feel like I fit in. But a change is about to happen that could “ruin” that. Like that booming voice on the intercom, I don’t know if I’ll be called in and be expected to accept the call of duty that could potentially be placed in front of me. I really don’t know. I don’t expect it, because I know I’m not ready or capable and anyone who says I am is on crazy pills. But I know it could happen. And unlike 4 years ago, I have the chance to prepare myself and make a decision before I walk into that office. So let’s hope I can make the right decision again this time around if it be presented before my scared eyes. As I turned to my Book of 1000 Yiddish Proverbs for help and guidance, the authors presented me with this:

“One’s good luck is another’s misfortune.”

But they also told me that 

“A second wife is like a wooden leg” 

so now I’m trying to connect the dots and it ain't working out so well. 

Down in the valley

I came to college counting on the fact that I’d make endless amounts of friends. I imagined guys and girls hanging out in my living room, chatting into the wee hours of the morning and having the time of their seemingly perfect college experience. Did that happen? No. But what’s life if it goes how you planned?

For the past year, as much as I say I don’t care, I still think back to those visions. Will that ever happen? Will I ever have those college friends where you don’t even have to call or text them that you’re coming over- they just show up? You can automatically assume that any activity or party will involve those of your close group of friends. You take classes together, you sit in church together, and you actually hang out together past forced ward activities. That's what I thought was guaranteed for me.

However, after months of not seeing this come into my life, I realized something. 

That’s not me. That’s not me. 

I don’t want that. 

At all.

I've realized that my life lately is coming home to my roommate and her boyfriend in the kitchen, who are eagerly waiting to ask me how my day was and me doing everything in my power to avoid them and idle chatter. It’s going to sleep in a room with two beds where two girls live, but only one person sleeps the majority of the time. It’s praying that the kid who just eyed the row you're sitting in won’t sit in the available seat next to you because you really don’t feel like having a forced, fake conversation with someone you’ll only know for 50 minutes and then odds are never see again (hopefully). It’s taking random walks to the duck pond or drives around town because that’s the only way to completely escape everything weighing you down and all the stimulation that exists in your life. It’s coming up with excuses to not go to someone’s house so that you might watch General Conference alone because you like it better that way. It’s going inside the temple of the Lord and feeling sorry for the chatty groups of freshmen girls who don’t have the courage attend by themselves. It’s making the 5 minute drive to your house to hang out with your hip, beanie crocheting mom. It’s feeling accomplished on a day when your proudest moment was making something other than Spaghettios or a quesadilla for dinner. It’s considering a Saturday night crazy when you do puzzles as your activity of choice. It's being excited at filling up one journal in less than 6 months because there are too many thoughts in that weirdly crafted brain of yours. It's not being to stop those impulse online shopping purchases you often make because no one is there to talk you out of it- or at least talk you into the cheaper option. It's coming up with a list of facts about yourself so you'll be prepared in case some singles ward activity committee decides to make you play "Never have I ever".

Do I have the infinite amount of friends I was promised by traditions of other college students who came before me- the ones who had proven this theory? No. But I realized I have the friends I need. I have been given what I need and that is sufficient. And I need to stop looking for more. Because in all reality, my life rocks. I don't have to have human contact to feel successful in life.

So here's to the closet introverts of the world. Here's to the realization that trying to socialize is completely overrated. Here's to the realization that sometimes all you need is yourself. And some red velvet cake ice cream. And some Coke. Annnnd that's about it. 

"We shouted for joy"

"The devil made me do it."

". . . the adversary cannot make us do anything. He does lie at our door as the scriptures say, and he follows us each day. Every time we go out, every decision we make, we are either choosing to move in his direction or in the direction of our Savior. But the adversary must depart if we tell him to depart. He cannot influence us unless we allow him to do so, and he knows that! The only time he can affect our minds and bodies - our very spirits - is when we allow him to do so. In other words we do not have to succumb to his enticements!"

Watch the whole conference talk here and prepared to be enlightened because it's boss. Robert D. Hales is a boss. ALL the general authorities are boss. And on that note....

CONFERENCE IS THIS WEEKEND, GUYS.

Ah.

Happiness.

But really, I've never been SO. FREAKING. EXCITED for a session of General Conference in my entire life. This conference will be one for the books. Yeah, yeah...last year was the one for the records, but not for me. THIS year, I am unbelievably determined to stay awake for all four sessions of conference. Let's turn this blog into a judgment free zone for a post or so because I'm admitting something I find slightly embarrassing....
In all my 19 years and 37 (almost 38) sessions of conference, I have yet to stay conscious for all 8 hours. I know. #pathetic

But this is the year I will be successful. I've been preparing myself- praying, fasting, watching past talks- basically getting PUMPED UP, YO.

Pajama church is the best kind of church and I'm going to rock those Dr. Seuss footies of mine.

#foreveralone

I attend BYU.

Brigham Young University.

(look at dem mountains....mmmmmmm......)

In case you're not familiar with BYU and it's culture, it is more widely known for it's soberness, it's founder being a polygamist, being the birthplace of Jimmermania, it's cheap tuition, it's somewhat successful and inconsistent sports teams, and it's underlying purpose to marry off each student before they graduate from college or each girl before the end of their freshman year- whichever comes first.

That however, is NOT one of my goals. I came to college for an education and an education I will receive. Whatever happens in the midst of all that, well...let's just say marriage isn't in my range of thinking or fathoming abilities quite yet.
So it's inevitable that you come across those girls. Yes, those girls. If you attend BYU, you already know exactly what I'm talking about. Most likely out of state, decently personable, attention-seeker, devoutly LDS, sometimes high maintenance....Yep. It doesn't get much better than that combination. We've all had them- whether it be a roommate, a "friend" (more like acquaintances in my case) or just that random girl in your ward, but she exists. She's the one whose goal - whether she voices it or not - is to get a ring and get out; the one who can't control her mouth on the first Sunday of your new ward; the one who is holding a guy's hand before week 1 of school ends and after only hour 5 of meeting him.

If you're like me, when above situation happens to someone within your sphere of obligatory acquaintances, you ask yourself, "Is there something wrong with me? Do I smell bad? Do I have a sign on my forehead that says, 'I'm single and happy'?" Because most likely, this isn't happening to you. Bravo. I mean, in all reality, I am  single and perfectly  happy, but sometimes a little human contact never hurt anybody, right? Right. And I continuously see this happen with naive girls who aren't really that naive because they know for a fact they are manipulating men with their extrovert and eager flirtations. I'm not jealous in any aspect of what they have "going for them", and I knew this was coming the minute I applied and was accepted to my dear and beloved Brigham Young University. BUT I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. So now I ask you to listen to Bill Nye and

We've all heard that saying that goes something along the lines of "you can't know what flavor you like until you try multiple flavors." As true as that may be in a dating sense, I'd like to question this ingenious saying. If we put this in terms of ice cream because, well - who doesn't love ice cream and this analogy always ends up in those terms anyways - isn't there a point where you've tried so many "flavors" that your palette turns into a freezing mess of numb flesh and taste buds? Is it really necessary to try them all? Just because Baskin-Robbins offers 31 flavors doesn't mean it's required for you to stand in line for a good half hour and request to sample them all. No one's buying the act if you ask to try pistachio because you think this time you'll like it. Newsflash: YOU WON'T. At this point after sampling that many flavors, we can see that you're just here for the free ice cream anyways and you'll be full before you get to the double scoop waffle cone that everyone else came for. Idiot.

And just because I found this on the internet and is slightly relevant because it has to do with ice cream and Provo, I'm going to include this picture for the world to see:

So, after my little rant and rave party, you now think I'm just the other typical BYU girl who adds #foreveralone after every picture I post on the Facebook. Well, even though that's the title of this post, you're wrong. I won't be forever alone. I just already know which flavor of ice cream I like, and I'm eagerly waiting for that flavor to make it's appearance because it's special edition and it's only available during certain months of the year.
.....
And now I've taken this analogy too far. Maybe it's because I'm hungry. Maybe not. Either way, let this be a lesson to all to stop eating all the ice cream and just pick one, goshdangit.

Off my chest

As I sit here and realize that the gap between the time I left high school and the present is steadily increasing, I can successfully look back on situations and actually learn something from them. Nifty, I know. So here is a story for y'all. Something that, as said above, I need to get off my chest. And because the other star of this story is gone off serving the Lord (as he is definitely a better human being than I am), and due to the fact that no one reads this anyways, I know I am perfectly safe in posting this- not that I care if he sees it because I am the one that looks like a whiny brat and not him. So, here goes feelings and stuff.....


Once upon a high school girl's existence, I was a junior. It was the closing of the school year, and I was about to become a senior. Previously being 4th chair in Symphonic Band and playing 2nd clarinet, I was preparing for the upcoming auditions. Once I began realizing what was coming, I got a little freaked out. If all went as it was projected to be, I was to become first chair clarinet the next fall. I began to take the audition a little more seriously than I had past auditions. But come audition time behind the Timpview curtain 'o love, I still bombed it because let's just face it, I'm a horrible auditioner. Bottom line period.

However, when the chair assignments were posted, there I was: first chair in all it's "glory". I was officially section leader and first chair. Everything I had been working for since initially picking up my clarinet at age 10 had paid off. I mean, doesn't every clarinetist (or musician at that) want to be first chair their senior year in high school? I wanted to lead my dear clarinets to victory and that was what I planned to do. But this experience for me was like becoming drum major all over again.

HOW IN THE WORLD WAS I SUPPOSED TO LIVE UP TO THIS CRAP.

Like really though, I got real freaked out. Do you know the caliber of first chair clarinet music that the Timpview High School Symphonic band played under Dr. Fullmer's reign? INSANE. That's what. And I wasn't good enough or ready for this responsibility. I will be the first to tell you that.
So, I picked up the phone, and called Miss Emileigh Norling. I needed lessons and lessons was what I was going to get. I started immediately.

And I learned SO MUCH in my lessons. Sure Emileigh and I fooled around half the time, but the other time was spent gaining more knowledge than I had ever  had in my clarinet span of life. I had never had lessons before this and it was an eye opener as to what I had been missing. My embouchure improved, my technique tightened, scales and sight-reading abilities skyrocketed. Life was good. I started working on an incredibly hard solo. I remember thinking I could play anything that was put in front of me. I wasn't scared of the black on the page anymore. In fact, I welcomed it with open arms and an attitude that I could use to conquer Hitler. Yeah, I was that hardcore.

Fall came and there I was, sitting in the first chair with my best friend Nick right next to me. There wasn't a semester of Symphonic Band that we didn't sit next to each other. With our new clarinet section of 2011, we were going to conquer the world. And that my friends, we did. Fall semester was GREAT! I was pretty happy with everyone's contributions to our section. We played Second Suite in F by Holst. I will never forget the concert where I got to play my first solo. Unforgettable. Then fall semester ended. That's when everything changed.

Christmas break came....and ended.....and with that came my last audition of high school. I did the normal routine - as much as I had prepared myself, my audition was just average. The new seating list was to be put up by DF during the basketball game while the pep band was playing. I, however, had yet another ballroom competition and had to leave early before the list was posted. Later that night after I got home, I checked my phone, and I found a text from who else but my band pal, Jared Larkin:

"I'm really sorry. Are you okay?"

uh....what?

I'm sorry, did I miss something? 

I also got a text from Nick who said something along the lines of, 

"Nicole, I'm sorry that it's like this. I didn't want it to be like this. I hope this doesn't change anything between us and just remember it will always be Nick and Nicole forever!"

Do you know how many texts I got from other friends just like the one Jared sent me? Too many to count on my fingers, that's how many. 

Okay, I don't know about y'all, but it sounded like I went through some nasty break-up. I was so confused. I go to a ballroom competition for 3 hours and all the sudden the world comes crashing down and people are treating me as if my family died in a car crash. I'M NOT HARRY POTTER PRE-ELEVENTH BIRTHDAY OKAY. 
The greatest part is this was on a Friday and I had the whole weekend to ponder what these texts could possibly mean, because no one was being helpful and informing me.

The next week at school was a bit awkward. I saw for myself what they were talking about. There, upon the corkboard in the band room, under the name of Nick Walton, was none other than that of Nicole Hopkinson. UNDER, my friends. Under. 

Well, okay. No big deal. I was second chair. Who cares? And most importantly, why was everyone making such a big deal out of it? People were defs treating me different and for what? Second chair? These people needed to get over it. I mean, I  had already gotten over it. Fullmer did this all the time, switching the first two chairs at semester when they were about the same playing level and both seniors. NO. BIG. DEAL.

I honestly was fine. I REALLY WAS. Until people talked to me about it, that is. 
"Are you okay, Nicole?" and 

"Are you sure that list is right?" and 

"Well I  think you're a better player."

I couldn't take it anymore! I started dwelling on it and thinking and analyzing why it happened that way. Because that's what I do- I analyze everything.
Was my audition really that bad? Was Fullmer disappointed in me? Why would he really put Nick first chair and me second? Everyone knew we were neck and neck on the clarinet, but didn't he know that overall, I was the better player? I was taking lessons for crying out loud - if not once, but TWICE a week. I even payed for them myself and managed to scrape up the cash when I had no job and no money. Nick wasn't taking lessons. Did he know that Nick didn't even audition for All-State when I had made it in? Was it because I was in ballroom as well and I devoted myself 98% instead of the desired 100%? Did he know that I practiced like a beast in independent music study while Nick fooled around and went to lunch early? Did I need humbling? Well I needed humbling only because he had placed me 2nd chair; up until that point I didn't!

What was his reasoning?

It bugged me. But the fact is that I let it bug me. I thought I was okay about it. But the more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I resented Dr. Fullmer's decision. My biggest desire was to march up to him in his office and demand to know why in the world he thought that was okay. I'm ashamed to admit that now, because that was not how I should have handled the situation. dang natural man. Let's just say that this wasn't one of the proudest moments in the life of Nicole.

My mom helped me think out the situation and eventually talked me out of confronting DF. I didn't get to play the solo in Elsa's. I didn't get to play the solo in Children's March. I didn't get to run sectionals. I wasn't technically section leader anymore. I felt like I was a failure to my section. I lacked confidence in myself and it ate at me until I snapped at people about it, murmuring under my breath. It began to affect my playing, and I even took my anger out on Nick. This experience should have made me work harder to prove what kind of a first chair section leader he was missing, but I gave up and stopped trying. It wasn't the best decision I've ever made, but it was a learning experience. Then DF told us he was leaving Timpview. After a couple weeks of pondering this impact, I wanted nothing more than to get the truth out of him before he left us. I couldn't decide if I was going to or not. Because did I really want his last memory of me to be whining, wanting to know why he didn't place the entitled brat as first chair? No.

So, to end a long story, did I ask him? No.

Do I know why I was put second chair? No.

Do I care? No.

Am I okay with that? Finally, yes. I am okay with it.

But, in a certain weird way, I do know why I was second chair.

I can't really write it out in words, because you see, you wouldn't understand. But the best I can do to explain it is to say that whatever the real reason behind this whole learning experience, it might have been for me, and it might have been for someone else. I've learned recently that sometimes the things we go through aren't always for us. There might not be something for us to gain, and we sit there thinking, "Heavenly Father, what in the world was I supposed to learn from this?" A lot of the times, we'll never know, and I think we just need to know and be satisfied with the fact that it helped someone else.

After looking back on all this and writing this post, let me try to use an example to help you understand.
When Harry Potter wasn't made prefect his fifth year, he was at first shocked. He initially came to terms with it, but I think it still secretly ate at him until he finally was told by Dumbledore why he wasn't chosen. The reason I like to think about more often is that it gave Ron a chance to prove himself and shine. It in no way downplayed Harry's abilities (it was only Harry that could do that to himself), but instead allowed others to succeed and progress. Now, in no way am I comparing my charming personality to our dear, fictional Harry Potter, but that's how I came to understand my own experience.
"You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess . . . that I rather thought . . . you had enough responsibility to be going on with."


So basically I the only way I can cope with life is through Harry Potter analogies and pretending every situation I go through is as dramatic and world changing as his. But seriously, it's now that I realize that it's the situations like that in my life that were never even in the first place remotely important. While experiencing the emotions I felt at the time this was all going on, I told myself, "Nicole, in a couple months, this won't be a big deal, so why are you stressing out about it now? CALM DOWN." I really did try. But it wasn't until after the fact that I realize how trivial this whole experience was. I'm a little slow, okay? 

When I didn't get into the BYU marching band, at first I told myself it was okay. NO. BIG. DEAL. But then, unfortunately, it all played out like the situation above. It was only a couple, short months ago when I finally came to terms with the reality and wasn't mad at the world for not getting in. Not because I actually wanted to get in, but I wanted to prove that I could  get in. There was absolutely NO reason why I shouldn't have been accepted. None. (At least that's what my mom told me and she's supposed to support me like that ;). Dr. Fullmer even said himself that he would have put me in had he still been assistant director. But, the thing in, he wasn't still the assistant director. That's how life played out. And even though I see now why I wasn't in the marching band for MULTIPLE reasons, maybe it was because some other unsuspecting person was sent a tender mercy from Heavenly Father and they needed to be in the marching band at that time. He knew I didn't need to be in the marching band to be happy. He knew I wasn't supposed to be first chair. And such a wise father He is for knowing that. 

He knows what is best for us and what is best for us, He WILL give unto us.
I just forget that.... a lot.....


And that's all I have to say about that....

A little, old place where we can get together

For those of you who may or may not know, I used to work at a snow cone shack.
I know, get your laughs out now.
BUT
I really did love it.
I think it was the best job I've ever had. Plus, it holds a special place in my heart since it was my first job ever. I worked there for 3 summers and I will truly miss it. I got to make children happy by hyping them up on sugar. It was the greatest.
But unfortunately, I am on to "bigger" and "better" things, even though I wish I could just work at a snow cone shack for the rest of my existence. It really is the life, I promise.

Anywho, this is a post dedicated to my dear Surf 'n Slurp. I will always love you and I hope that one day you run The Barn out of business. Because they are jerks who deserve to go broke.


So in honor of not working there, I thought I'd share the common questions/occurances I often experienced at the dear old shack and the things I wish  I could have said to the customers in response.



A question I was asked practically 100 times a day:
"What's in the flavor Maui Wowee?"
What I wish I could have said:
"How am I supposed to know? It's a made up flavor, okay? DEAL WITH IT OR LEAVE."



An old lady was having trouble getting money out of her GINORMOUS purse and said to me:
"You need a place like a ledge to put purses on."
What I wish I could have said:
"We're a snow cone shack, lady. Not a 5 star restaurant. NO."



On the days it would rain or be absolutely freezing, we would still get customers. And they would almost always say:
"It's freezing!"
as if in attempt to make their visit to a snow cone shack on a rainy day a humorous thing.
What I wish I could have said:
"Yet you're still here getting a snow cone, genius. Don't come complaining back to me when your snow cone inevitably disintegrates in the rain. And no, we don't give refunds for disintegrated snow cones."



People would constantly drive up in their cars and order through the tiny, low-to-the-ground window and block traffic in the narrow Day's parking lot as if we were a drive through.
What I wish I could have said:
"LADY THIS ISN'T A DRIVE THROUGH."
And then I would have slammed the window.



"Can I get more than one flavor on my snow cone?"
What I wish I could have said:
"No. We run a Nazi establishment here. You only get one."



"Can I have a spoon?"
What I wish I could have said:
"No. Spoons are for cool people only. And unfortunately, you don't make that list. I have that list right here if you would like to see it."



A 12 year old girl who came at least once a day once asked me:
"You must make a ton of money! How much money do you make?"
What I wish I could have said:
"Oh, like a bajillion dollars an hour."
(Maybe it's a good thing I didn't lie to her and given her a warped reality of life.)



Often I would listen to orchestral movie scores from movies, operas or ballets, such as The Nutcracker. 
"Are you listening to the Nutcracker in there?"
What I wish I could have said:
"YES I KNOW IT'S JUNE AND I'M LISTENING TO THE NUTCRACKER STOP JUDGING ME OKAY."

It's a good thing I learned to think before I spoke.