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“Joe Nyland”

I’m reaching out to the universe here and praying against all odds SOMEBODY can help me. This guy did a photo set and a couple calendar shots for COLT Studios back in 1991-92. Does ANYBODY know who he is or how to reach him? This has been burning on my mind for 30 years. I would just like the opportunity to say HI, and ask if he’d sign a photo. He is 61 years old now. If COLT’s model info isn’t made up, he is a Cancer so  21 June-22 July he’ll be 62. I THOUGHT I saw him as a Paramedic (Ambulance driver) in Arizona on one of those Rescue 911 type shows back in the mid 90’s that TLC used to always show. I also have another career lead that I’ve been trying to look into without much luck. Please- if you know him or how to contact him, PLEASE let me know or show this to him so he can get in touch if he wants to. I can’t begin to tell you how long I’ve wanted this to happen & what this means to me. PLEASE- somebody has to know him. Thank you 🙏

Private showings

I was pleasantly surprised late this afternoon with a call from my realtor saying there was an interested party who wished to view my home at 7 PM. I said that’s fine. About an hour later, I got another call. Someone else was interested in viewing it at 6.30. Sure! Both came, the first realtor was checking it out for his client, liked the house a lot, thanked me and left. Not sure how to read him, tho he seemed to genuinely like the house The second came with a client. The realtor was a very nice man, was extremely enthusiastic at the house, loved the spacious rooms, loved the new siding and roofing I had done, new furnace, new hot water heater, etc. His client seemed very nonchalant. I’m not too concerned as I think both will, especially the second realtor, draw more people searching for a large Victorian in. The weekend after Memorial Day she’s having another open house, so that’s good.

I spent the day packing, tho it’s books now, hard cover books. UGH! SO heavy. I haven’t even started packing my vinyl record albums yet either. Mainly have my records, my stereo system, surround sound system and a few more odds and ends as well as the kitchen to pack. I need to get more boxes tomorrow. I’m up to 65 boxes so far.

I’m exhausted but feeling good. I can’t believe on Tuesday I close on the house in Florida. Have to be packed up & ready to go on 20th June. This all happened so fast. I’m ready to collapse.I never thought myself capable of doing all I’ve done. I managed to secure homeowners insurance through AllState. I can keep the same auto insurance as they write in Florida, but they withdrew homeowners insurance there, so I had to find another carrier. That’s one less thing to worry about. Electricity switch-over is already set up. I need to call landscapers so I don’t arrive to fines from the homeowner’s association when I arrive. I still cannot believe I’m doing this. All of this is so far out of my comfort zone it blows my mind. I’m excited tho. Once I’m rested up from all this work and can dig myself out of the mountain of credit card debt I’ll rest easier.

I so want a Negroni right now but have no alcohol. I don’t even have a bottle of wine in the house. Will have to remedy that this weekend. I may get a small bottle of Absinthe. I am also dying to try a Vieux Carré as I’ve yet to have one of those. Hopefully I will be able to get a bar setup and stock back up. Margarita time tho truly, nothing to me is more refreshing on a hot summer night than a nice, ice-cold Absinthe. I’m an Absinthe man through and through.

On that note, I’m off to bed. I’m wiped out.

Open House

This is one of the most stressful times for me. Had an open house yesterday and another today. Bids need to be in by Tuesday. My anxiety is raging out of control. This is the point where I will find out how comfortable my future will be, or if I’ll continue struggling. It would be nice if just this one thing would work in my favour. Nothing has ever worked out for me since the rock & roll days ended, its been one long string of bad luck. I’ll be more relaxed when this is all over with. Is this what my dad felt when we moved into this house 42 years ago and just kept it hidden?

I miss cooking so much, but a lot of my stuff has been packed away. Can’t make pesto sauce because my mortar & pestle has been packed. Oh, I know you can use a blender, but once you’ve tasted it with a mortar and pestle, there’s no going back. There’s only five weeks until we move, so I don’t want to keep a lot of stuff on hand only to throw it out when the moving truck is coming. I’m not wild about takeaway every night either, that’s not healthy on a regular basis. I ache all over from all this work. I desperately need a massage. My neck crunches when I turn my head side to side, my lower back aches, my hands hurt-will be in no big hurry to unpack when I get to Florida.

So bittersweet when I look around this house I grew up in and remember all the good times, the holidays with the family gathered round the table, even the bad times like when my parents divorced and how that drew my dad and I closer as we always had a rocky relationship while I was growing up. All the firsts I had in this house. Amazing, one set of trashy neighbours can force you out of your house. My street has been going down the loo for years, but it was tolerable until 4 or 5 years ago, and I just can’t put up with it any more and this city is so corrupt, nobody does a damn thing about it. There are all kinds of illegal activity going on there and the city turns a blind eye. I don’t need this. Who knows, maybe I’ll even bump into “Joe Nyland” when I get to my new area. That would be super cool. It’s exciting though when I look at the new area I’m going and what there’ll be to discover, a nice house on the lake, a quiet neighbourhood.

Moving Sucks

I’ve been running on nerves and maybe 3.5 hours of sleep for the past two weeks. I bought a house in Florida, and everything is too rushed. My partner decided we’re leaving here on 1 June, I close on the house in Florida on 31 May. My realtor is coming to take pictures to list my house on Monday, open house begins next weekend. I’ve had 1-800-GotJunk coming for the past 2 weeks to clear 40 years worth of shit out from attic to basement. I’m already in a little over 9 thousand dollars just for junk removal. No time to do an estate or yard sale, I’d be here 6 months or more if I had to clear it out myself with a dumpster. My mind is absolutely blown over how much crap there is to clear out. Every conceivable nook and cranny, especially in the basement, has stuff loaded. This is ridiculous. The basement has been the hardest so far of all.

My piano will be left behind for almost a month, the piano movers won’t be in my area until 18-28th of June, leaving me at the mercy of my realtor to supervise the piano move. This is all just too rushed and all I keep hearing is “Everybody goes through this.” NOBODY moves 40 years worth of shit in 3 weeks. My anxiety is through the roof, I’m running on frayed nerves and am physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. My last appointment with my therapist is next Wednesday, and I won’t have another session until I find out down where I’m moving. I hope I’m wrong, but this all feels like it’s going to end in one giant shit storm. I have never been more uptight over finances than I am now. NEVER dreamed it would cost this much to get rid of all this. I’m already 50 bucks over my credit line on MasterCard -if they cut me off, I’m screwed as the junk collectors do not accept American Express, which is the cards I use the most. I rarely, if ever, use Mastercard and Visa. Only enough to keep them active. My highest limits are on Amex. I’d still love to know why my partner is in such a bloody hurry to get out of here. I am too, but not THIS fast. I bought the house with my money, it was my idea to move in the first place, and I’m being dictated to when we’re going to leave here. The bloody mail has already been set to be sent to Florida starting 1 June. I’m coming dangerously close to exploding, and people wonder why I take Valium?

I’ve not been able to really cook properly since this all started, and I miss that, but there’s no time. I have some hazmat shit that needs to be removed i.e. petrol containers, motor oil, solvents, oil based paints, stains, etc. And there are tons of papers that need to get shredded, and I’m doing 95% of this by myself, and I am getting really pissed off. Clearing out the junk from this house is costing more than the actual move.

I’ll be happy when this is over, and I can get back to my creative stuff and cooking, assuming I’m not in a psychiatric ward by then which is a strong possibility lol.

Overload

Why does moving have to be so god damn stressful? I mean, it’s just crushing stress. I looked at another place today and I’m super nervous about it which is making me think that I may end up getting it if I put an offer in. It’s beautiful, has a fantastic kitchen, it’s on a pond where the sun sets over it so the views would be great. 4 bedrooms which is what I want, I’d actually be gaining 60 square foot living space in a single story house vs. the 1800 square foot I have now in a 3-story house. I am extremely nervous about this because I had resigned myself to feeling that this was it, I’m in a market I can’t compete in, it’s extremely aggressive, and I keep getting outbid. Which makes me think I’m trying to compete with the ultra wealthy. I keep hearing Marianne Faithfull singing the line My riches can’t buy everything from As Tears Go By, and they can’t. I was financially destroyed in the 2008 crash, or I’d be in much better standing than I am, although this is do-able.

I still have to clear a shitload of stuff out of this house which is going to wipe out my savings account, the house will be a cash sale, so I don’t have to worry about a stellar FICO score to get this. Even so I’d hate to see my score drop. Last I looked, I was at 821. I’ve done some cleaning out of my house but nothing to the scale that needs to be done because I wanted to be certain I had a place to go to before I had this one listed as my realtor thinks this is going to go FAST.

I just don’t feel like I’m adult enough to be doing this, how stupid is that? It is the single largest purchase I’ve ever made in my life. My Jaguar car being the largest. But that wasn’t nearly as stressful as buying a house. I’m moving all the way down the East cost, not just across town. This is huge for me. I keep trying to focus on the positives, no more snow, no more ice, no more shovelling, no more trashy neighbours, a beautiful neighbourhood, no gangs, a fresh start, a tropical environment, thunderstorms that I’ve longed for for so long and all we get here is a tease. To walk around in shorts in December would be great. A fresh start for my creativity, to write fiction again, to be able to play guitar again, get back into piano again.

There’s signs I’m seeing that lead me to think this may end up coming through for me which scares me, although if this place sold for less than $450 I’d be very, very surprised. It’s too nice.

Last Friday I was so pissed off at the whole thing I re-stocked my Absinthe bar which isn’t cheap. So I’m enjoying a glass now to try & calm down. To get out of a blue state and into a red would be so refreshing.

Jade Absinthe line. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Exhausting

I have spent nearly the entire month of April looking on Zillow and Realtor dot com for a new house in Florida. As well as I have agents looking in certain areas for me. Out of that month, only three properties really grabbed me. One was out in the middle of Nowhere, and being that isolated is not for me. Another I really liked, a two-story, my agent looked into and the next morning I woke up to a 20-page mould report that started in the upstairs bathroom and went clean down to the garage, and it was black mould. No thanks. The Friday I found a rally nice house, large, great floor plan, large kitchen, beautiful cul-de-sac. It hit the market Friday, I called my realtor that night, who then called me back saying she’d got an appointment there for me to do a FaceTime walk through. We did that, I liked it even more, placed a bid and I told her I wanted to place a bid. Bids had to be in by Sunday noon. She sent the contract for me to electronically sign and I did. With an escalation clause I’d go 5 thousand dollars above the highest bid capping off at 450 thousand. 1 PM last night I got a call, I lost the house. After being told it looked fantastic for me, the sellers wanted more information on me and asked for a screenshot of my bank account (this was to be a cash sale). She said they don’t normally do that until all bids are in, so I feel strongly this may be a good sign you’ll get it. I think I have a good idea why I lost it but can’t prove it so not even going to bring it up. I’m curious what the winning bid was for it, so I asked my realtor.

I’m physically and emotionally beyond exhausted. I can’t find anything I really like, and I’m not going to settle on a house just to get out of here. I’ve settled for too much in my life. I deserve better than that, especially when you’re talking houses. And I’ve been looking all day, every day, pouring over listings like it was a job.

I almost feel trapped, if I don’t buy, then I’ve lost 30 yeas worth of capital gains from my financial portfolio for nothing. If I do buy, I’m going to go mental scouring listings and researching the area to see about crime rate and what not and what’s around for grocery shopping and things like that. This is how I write my stories when I write. I spend a lot of time on Google maps doing just this. Researching for books is fun because I can do it at my own pace and it’s fantasy. Doing it for real is really exhausting and gives me a headache because it’s an area I’ll be moving to live for real.

This adulting shit isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. I don’t care for it much.

I was in the mood for pesto tonight so went over to my favourite Italian site, Pasta Grammar and looked up Pesto. Hers was the basic recipe but over green beans and pasta, I guess this was in some Disney films or something. Let me tell you something…unless you have made pesto the old-fashioned way with mortar and pestle, you’ve missed out. I used to make it in a blender and was satisfied that no chemicals and preservatives and all that other crap was going in it. But mortar and pestle is the way to go. Yes, it’s more laborious, but so worth it in the end. I didn’t think it would be that much different. It was. The explosion of flavours in your mouth were incredible. I could still taste the pine nuts, the garlic, and the basil was sweet. There’s always a sort of “burned” or “machined” flavour when you do it in a machine. It was also quite meditative to do it the old-fashioned way but from here on out, this is how I’ll be making it.

Pasta Grammar’s pesto! Perfecto!

While doing this was just thinking how the houses I’ve had, and there’s only been maybe 3 that have REALLY grabbed me, while looking in Florida, it just doesn’t seem to be working out. Yesterday I was sure I’d found my home but no, it has series mould issues and the buyer refuses to remedy it so let somebody else get suckered into that. I don’t want it. Life shouldn’t be this way, new neighbours shouldn’t be so trashy that they force lifetime residents to move. And they’re not kids either, they have no kids, thank god. I just want to et out of the cold, our of the winters, out of the draconian politics. Where I live just seems to attract the sludge at the bottom of the barrel. Not sure why, Massachusettsisnt exactly affordable living.

Anyway, here’s the pasta I made with Semolina flour and the finished dish. Joe, I sure wish you were here to share it with. I thought by now somebody would have reached out that either they knew him and would let me know or say they’d show this to him and …I dunno, I just thought I’d have heard something by now about him It’s been up since January.

Here’s the pasta and the completed dinner. Head on over to Pasta Grammar for Eva’s recipe. You’ll be

glad you did! You haven’t had pesto until you’ve had it made in mortar and pestle!

Buon appetito!

Scaloppine al Limone

I’ve been having some minor repair work done on my house in hopes of getting the best price possible to move. Saw a house i Saint Augustine which isn’t ideally where I had hoped to go, but I’m open. I had really hoped to end up on the gulf coast in the Tampa area, little did I know what a hotbed that is for people moving there. NOTHING my price range that I like. All too small. I hate where I am but I am not moving unless I am 110% in love with the new house. This house I’m looking at is slightly larger than where I currently reside, even tho it’s only one story. The kitchen has me nervous though as it closely resembles what I’ve seen by one builder I almost put an offer on until I went looking at the builder on the BBB and saw miles upon miles upon miles of complaints. Having lived in a shithole built by Avalon when I rented a flat back in 2013-2015 I know how that goes, and I wouldn’t touch this builder I almost made an offer on.

This is getting very nerve-wracking at this point because my entire finances rest upon this now. And I’m also totally overwhelmed at the decades of junk I need to clear out of this house. Mainly the basement, which I will have to have someone do for me because there’s just too much heavy stuff there I cannot lift. I just feel completely overwhelmed and lousy right now. It’s too much for me to handle but the thought of having to endure all night parties that cops do absolutely nothing about, not to mention another winter, makes me want to go jump off a bridge. It also makes me a bit nervous that if I move, being the new guy on the block, and being a heavy metal/hard rock fan and guitar player to boot….am I going to become that neighbour that has driven me to move off this street?

So to help unwind, I made a very simple but very delicious dinner. Scaloppine al Limone. Once again Eva of Pasta Grammar comes through with another winning dish, tho hers looked golden with a golden sauce where mine were darker. It’s not a heat issue, I had the burner on medium to medium low. I want to make a red pasta tomorrow, but idea what to make for a sauce. Maybe just a basic tomato and basil? or maybe a pesto would be good. I think that’s what I’ll do, a pesto on red pasta.

Wow, this is getting really scary now. Just heard back from the seller’s agent of the property I was looking at in Saint Augustine, and it was the builder I feared. I could tell by the looks of the kitchen, but wanted to be sure before I got too involved. I think I put my entire financial future in jeopardy for nothing. FUCK! I need another glass of wine. Buon appetito!

Scaloppine al Limone ~ Fast easy and delicious.

There is ALWAYS ALWAYS a very high price to pay for it. My 9 years in the heavy metal scene were too unbelievably good,all the concerts, all the friends, the band I was in, – that was the only time in my life I ever felt I had real freinds, true friends. It was the only time in my life I ever really fit in anywhere or with anybody. Rock and roll was damn good to me. And when the scene died in the 90’s, I paid a very high price, lost 3 years of my life to severe panic attacks. I did no leave the house for 3 years unless it was with my mum or my dad. You know how embarrassing that is when you’re 26 years old. But I lost the ages between 26-29 to panic disorder.

Now, my plans to move to Florida are looking like they’re falling apart. Finances are the issue. I’m an artist, I haven’t had a “real job” since 1994. Luckily, I came from a pretty well off family and measures were put into place from them as well as my time as a professional tattoo artist to set up a financial portfolio to guard my future since my “real world’ job history is spotty at best. It’s just not who I ever was, not even from the time I was a small child. I always had a guitar in my hands, or a toy piano as a toddler, or was drawing-everything always centred round the arts in some way. The fucked up part is I have the high credit score, it was 824 points the last time I looked a few weeks ago, but no stable income. My partner has the income and a full time job and no savings AT ALL, nothing. But if it’s possible to have a negative number FICO score, that would be who has one. This move, if it happens at all, will require me to use every cent I have, essentially withdrawing all the funds from my portfolio to buy the house and what’s left, if anything, will be reinvested. I’m not comfortable with that. Have a meeting set up with my finance advisor tomorrow morning- yet something has to give because I can not stay in this fucking ghetto any longer. The bullshit loud partying started up last evening and I know it was intentional to piss me off. I wish I were never born. So summer is going to be absolute HELL, these neighbours are the most obnoxious fucking SCUM I have ever encountered. Several of us are always complaining to the city about them, the others “don’t want to get involved”. I have to get my ass to Florida somehow. My house was robbed in 1991 and neighbours refused to talk to police, “I don’t want to get involved, I’m afraid of retaliation”. WTF is wrong with people? They saw who it was, it was my EX for Christs’ sake. THEY were the ones who told my dad it was my ex. What retaliation? It was an act of revenge towards ME, not a house robbing spree anybody had to fear.

ANYWAY, I made Gnudi (click for the recipe to open in a new window) for dinner last night. It’s an Italian dish that’s basically just the filling for ravioli without the surrounding pasta. They were good, tho a bit heavy. Eva said they are tricky and the dough has to be the right consistency or they’ll disintegrate when you cook them. Mine didn’t disintegrate. They were quite good, I just think I maybe added too much flour. They were more like spinach meatballs. None dissolved, and the browned butter/sage sauce was delicious. Next time I’ll try a bit less flour. The dough is very sticky and it was my first time making them, so I don’t think I did too badly overall.

Sorry for the rant, I’m just beside myself….nothing has ever worked out for me, nothing has ever come easy. My life was never my life, outside of the rock & roll years….outside of rock, somebody else, regardless of my age was always in the driver’s seat, running my life for me. It’s how I was manipulated and abused as a toddler. I’m sad that I never had a child, I would have loved to have had a son or daughter but given my upbringing and the permanent mental scars I suffer to this day, I would never put an innocent child through that. That’s child abuse. It breaks my heart I never had a child to take on their first roller coaster ride. A hobby I loved so much. I even had names picked out if I had kids. If I had a son, his name would have been Damien, if I had a daughter, her name would have been Regan.

Moving

I can no longer tolerate the climate here in Massachusetts, either weather wise or politically, so have been looking to move to Florida. I thought last night I found a lovely house. Really spacious, very open layout, nice, large kitchen. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of nowhere and far too isolated. I spend hours today pouring over Zillow looking in many areas, mostly Northern Florida but the few I liked and thought I could handle have already got offers under considerations and my house isn’t even listed yet. I had found a bunch in nice, gated communities last night, and these are the ones that I got notice today had offers on the table that were being considered.

I got depressed today after spending so many hours pouring over areas and getting down thinking I’m never going to find a house. I can’t stay here much longer, I just can’t tolerate the way this neighbourhood has declined into such a ghetto. My realtor is popping on Thursday so we can sign papers to get the ball rolling. Last night, I was excited about this. She seems to think this house will sell rather quickly due to such limited inventory and this is a big house. Now I’m feeling a lot of pressure that what if this house sells, and I still haven’t found anything in Florida to move into? I can’t take it here any more and was beyond thrilled when she told me if we list it by Easter, I could more likely than not be out of here by the end of June. That was music to my ears.

The older I get, the more I detest the winter. I’m not the type of man who needs the seasons. I don’t give a toss about fall or winter. I hate the snow, it’s back-breaking to shovel it, the ice is crazy and the neighbourhood has gone to shit. Seeing a picture of snow would do me just fine. I don’t need to be in the midst of it in 6 layers of clothing. We have the majority of the year in freezing temperatures and only a few nice months. Florida is much more to my liking. Not to mention, the cost of living here in the Boston area is absolutely asinine. I could be living in a MUCH larger house, paying FAR less in property taxes I currently do, and my money will go much further.

I have had friends in the past who would move on average every 3 to 4 years. One had no choice as her husband was in the military, and they had to go where he was stationed. The other was an older woman and her husband who would draw up blueprints, build their house to their specifications and sell it in 3 or 4 years only to repeat the process over again. I never understood this. I have moved 4 times since 2007 and vowed I would never move again due to the stress of it and things getting lost during moving. yet here I am, desperate to get the hell out of New England. It’s a no-brainer really, it’s just a matter of finding the right house. I’m sure more will be listed, I just hope I find one soon. All the utilities are increasing, property taxes are getting out of sight, and it’s a much lower cost of living in Florida. I had family that lived in Florida on the lower East coastline. And still currently have very good friends who live in the Atlanta area who have rental property in Florida.

I was so excited and optimistic last night, and today it all feels like a deflating balloon, but I’m not going to get in that mindset, I feel it’s a dangerous self-fulfilling prophecy to think that way. So I stopped looking when it was dinner time, and then I did a bit of drawing to get my mind off it. I’m exhausted, and it’s colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra, as my friend Sally used to say 🤣🤣🤣 Boy do I miss her, she lived in the Jacksonville area and I wish she were still alive to talk to. I should just grab my iPad and get into bed and try to relax watching some drawing videos. Either Baylee Jae or Peter Draws. Baylee really seems to calm me and make me feel inspired. Even when she gets flustered, she mainly just laughs it off and carries on. I can’t do that.

I think that’s what I’m going to do. Get in bed and watch some art videos.

Buona notte 😴

Saturday

I had planned to make focaccia, but don’t have the right flour and really am not in the mood to go out & get some. Home life has been really tense. My partner has stage 4 lung cancer and while is stable and working and all, there’s just been a lot of tension throughout the 24 years we’ve been together-hence why the persistent Joe Nyland post at the top of the blog here. I used to be able to write fiction and really enjoyed it, I used to enjoy sketching and drawing Zentangles®, spray paint art. All of that is pretty much a struggle now, I cannot focus with all the tension going on in the world now. I can’t even play my guitars any more.

I absolutely hate where I’m living, and last week had the epiphany that am retired, my parents are gone, I have no family left and there’s nothing holding me here any more. I started looking at various areas of Florida. I would be happy as a pig in shit with no more snow. I’ve always been a summer guy, I don’t like the cold, I don’t like the ice, or shovelling. For a weekend visit, that would be one thing, but to live in this? No. It would also be a refreshing breath of air to live in a Red state. But thinking realistically, I can’t do it. While financially, I’m pretty well off on paper… that’s not how it works on a day-to-day basis. And my mother, of all people, screwed me over big time. If not for something she had done back in the mid 90’s, I would be able to move. I even remember my dad getting involved trying to find out what she had done and her response to him was to “mind your own fucking business” and hung up on him (my folks divorced when I was 15). I believe in part what she did was revenge because I stayed with my dad, not her. Thereby she had to lodge with friends and relatives until her, how to say it politely, “friend” could find a place for them to live. She wanted this house, my dad bought this house for her, and I was not about to see my dad’s life turned upside down for something he’d worked all his life for so my mum could have her way yet again and my dad would be out on his ass. I wasn’t letting that happen, so I stuck by my dad. In essence, my dad bought this house twice so he could give my mother her cut as part of the divorce decree.

I just cannot function any more, everything is a struggle, which is where I guess cooking comes in. It helps relax me, gives me something pretty easy to focus on. It’s not like drawing or playing guitar where it has to be spot on perfect, and it’s been a process for me to unlearn this perfection bullshit. Nothing is perfect. Christ, last year for my reading challenge,I read 41 novels I think. So far this year I’ve only read 4 and struggling to get through my 5th. Of all the arts I’ve been invovled in, I think writing has been my favourite because it allowed me the freedom to create the world and people I wanted to be around and involved with. I can’t even manage that anymore.

This is the last ‘painting’ I did, it’s an oil pastel which was a new medium for me and I was realy enjoying it. I did this on 15 December 2021, the 5th anniversary of my cat’s death. She was more than just a cat, she was the best friend I ever had. I never had such a close bond with a pet before and I still miss her so much it hurts.

I’m rambling. The frustrated writer in me, I guess.