i choose kristen

An entire year without blogging. That really makes my heart sad. So many times I sat down, only to become so overwhelmed with anxiety and negativity that I decided no blog was better than one filled to the brim with everything I hate reading myself. Even now I'm struggling to finish this because I know it's not going to be all sunshine and roses and not necessarily what some people want to hear.

This week I made a decision, one that I have known I've needed to make, but have been avoiding for a while. I decided to stop doing something that used to make me happy, but now only brings heartache, pain, and guilt. Before you jump there Mr. Wonderful and I are great. Better than great. We are awesome. He is my rock and support and a large part of why I had the courage to finally make the decision I have been avoiding for so long. After I close my current project I think I'm done with theatre. Wow. Saying  it out loud and seeing it in print are two completely different things. Writing it makes it real, somehow.

Why, you may ask? The answer is long, and complex, but the simple answer is this:

I'm DONE.

Done giving people control over my schedule, feelings, and self-worth. Done feeling like I'm doing it because I "have to" or that I will be letting people down if I stop rather than doing it for me and the joy it once brought me. Done being criticized by complete strangers. Done spending precious time away from Husband only to feel that time has been wasted. Done being a punching bag to others merely for being willing to donate my time and talents. Done working so hard for something that at the end of the day is pretty thankless. Done letting this part of me define my entire being. Done being afraid to walk away because I will lose the recognition I have worked hard for and fearing I will have to start paying my dues all over again should I come back. Done having negative experience after negative experience, yet still coming back because "this time will be different". Done doing favors only to have it come back and bite me. Done with late nights that turn into early mornings and Saturday morning rehearsals. Done feeling like I always have a black cloud hanging over me, and most importantly I'm done taking out all these frustrations and insecurities on Mr. Wonderful. He has done nothing to deserve it, yet he's the one who gets to take it all because I know he'll still be there and still love me when all is said and done.

Ugh, drama is so aptly named. There has been a lot of it, that's for sure, but I am grateful for what it has brought me. Being on stage got me through one of the hardest times of my life and helped me figure out who I was again. It has blessed me with wonderful friends and opportunities I don't think I would have found otherwise. But, there is a time and a season for all things, and I think this season has come to an end. I'm ready to spend time cultivating other things I enjoy but didn't make time for because theatre was all-encompassing for so long. I am more than the stage, and I've been feeling this way for a while. It's time to act on these feelings. Theatre is a PART of me, not entirely what I am.

Is being done a forever thing? Good heavens I hope not, but for something to get me back on stage in the immediate future it would have to be something big. HUGE. Something I would regret forever if I didn't do or would just be plain dumb to pass up. There aren't many feelings like being on stage, but if I never step foot on one again I can look back over the last 17 years, smile, and be proud of my body of work. Right now I need to focus on me, my other long-neglected talents, and my future with Mr. Wonderful.

To quote my girl Olivia Pope (a little out of context, but still rings true to me), "I choose me. I am choosing Kristen." And you know what? That gets to be okay.

overwhelmed

Have any of you had an experience that although you're excited to be having you reach a point where you stop and think to yourself

"What the hell did I get myself into? I'm an IDIOT!"

Yeah, so there right about now.

wordless wednesday

sitting waiting wishing

I've decided there's something worse than rejection. Waiting to find out if you've been rejected or not. I especially hate when they say you'll hear something Saturday, Sunday, or Monday at the latest. We all know you're gonna let us know on Monday, so why make us torture ourselves the other two days? If I didn't know better I'd say it's because they enjoy watching us squirm. Too bad for you you haven't seen me every time my phone 'pings' with an email notification...it's quite funny. (Yes, I probably should turn the notifications off-at least through tonight, but then I would resort to manually checking it every five minutes. I'll take the small heart-attack with each 'ping!' over being called obsessive...)

Seriously.

Yes, I'm still waiting to find out if I've earned the privilege of playing the Narrator in 'Joseph' or not. I wish I didn't care about this so much-it would make waiting SO much easier...my man Jack has been running through my head all day...enjoy.

(At least I can take comfort in the fact that I WILL know by the end of tonight as the read-through is tomorrow...right?)

what a pain in the neck

I just can't seem to get a break. Three weeks ago I threw my back out. Then on Tuesday my neck started to bother me. Just as I was starting to feel normal again. Sheesh.

At first I thought it was because I slept on it funny and shrugged it off. Three days later not only does it still hurt, but the pain has traveled from my SCM muscle into the superior and medial parts of my Trapezius. (Sorry, my anatomy class rears its ugly head again.) I'm pretty sure now it's all stress-I was at my audition and SUPER stressed when it first started to hurt and I can pinpoint the source of pain, but I'm just not rad enough in my massage skills to work on myself and get it to let go and relax. This afternoon I did a web search to see if there was anything I could do to find some relief and make it through the day, and apparently I'm going to die. I typed in 'neck and shoulder pain relief' and every result listed something along the lines of 'neck and shoulder pain can be the symptom of more serious issues like stroke, heart attack, cancer, and meningitis.' REALLY? I just want to know how to make it through the day and now I'm freaking out that I have meningitis and am going to die before I get there. I know that's what happens when you try to be your own doctor, but come on.


If Web Md is right and I DO drop dead today I just want you all to know that I love you.

angry birds **updated**

**I thought this was going to be a short story when I started—no such luck. Stop reading now if you’re not interested in a novel**

As most of you know I’m a proud pet parent. About six months ago LB2 gave me three canaries he had received as a tip-I know, right? Since he and SIL2 already have a menagerie of their own and birds are usually one of the few animals you can have in an apartment without having to pay any additional fees I was glad to take them off their hands. I have been convinced I’m an unfit parent since.

In November Moki had a monster stress molt, caught a chill, and died before I could take her to the vet. LB2 assured me she was very old (I am the third owner that we know of) so it was just her time. Yeah, I didn’t buy it. After a mini (ok huge meltdown) Mr. Wonderful bought her final resting place (a Tupperware container), and we laid her to rest in his parent’s back yard.

Two weeks later Red started making wheezy noises akin to a broken squeaker toy. Since I was convinced I was a horrible pet owner and still grieving the loss of Moki I rushed him and Gobo to the vet (avian respiratory issues are very communicable). Naturally the second I got in the exam room Gobo starts singing and showing off, and not to be out done Red jumps onto his perch and starts singing his little lungs out and showing off in a fine fashion too. The vet checked them out, said they were just fine, and sent us all on our merry way. I started to settle down, but I was still convinced that I would do something wrong and kill them both at any moment.

Red and Moki were parents to Gobo so my birds have always shared a cage. Most of the time they lived together peacefully--but they did have an occasional squabble. I also noticed the older Moki got the more the other two picked on him which I think is what caused him into the stress molt. Anyway, Sunday night Mr. Wonderful and I had just returned from the weekly parent dinner and were settling in to watch a movie when we heard a ruckus coming from my bedroom. Mr. Wonderful witnessed the tail end of the fight, but apparently Gobo was on top of Red and kicking the tar out of him. I didn’t think much of it; they pretty much forget why they were fighting once it’s over. Not this time. I had noticed Red was still on the floor of the cage and a sulky ball of fluff on Monday after I got home, but I decided to give it one more day. Last night when I got home and noticed he was still in this position, favoring his right leg, and didn’t seem to mind Gobo had pooped on him I started to really worry. I worried even more when I put my hand in the cage to check their food and didn’t get his usual freak-out (canaries are NOT social birds. They like to be seen and not handled) I knew something was wrong. I know he wasn’t eating while I was home, so I figured it was safe to assume he wasn’t eating when I wasn’t there either. I told Mr. Wonderful my fear and said I was going to take him to the vet today after I got home from work. Mr. Wonderful true to his wonderfulness said to make it for ASAP and he would take him before he had to be to work. (Is he a keeper or what?)

The diagnosis:

Gobo is a bully and Red is a pansy. Apparently Gobo inflicted a critical level of trauma on Red. They don’t know what’s wrong with his leg, but they think Gobo is to blame for that too. So now my little guy is being held over night and will receive oxygen and pain meds as needed, and lots and lots of TLC. Now I have to keep them in separate cages, and depending on the level of trauma Red has experienced it’s possible I will need to keep them separated AND out of each other’s sight. Oy. I’m a bad parent.

I’m going to prove my unfit-ness further by asking this question-the bill is already at $50 and will likely be double that tomorrow. When do you decide the pain, suffering, and cost outweigh the attempt to make them well again? I love my birds, and I will do what I can to make and keep them healthy and happy, but I’m also not willing to spend hundreds of dollars on an animal that is suffering.

Who would have thought birds who have peacefully co-existed all this time would suddenly start hating each other? Maybe Gobo is trying to assert her independence from dad? Whatever it is I'm at a complete loss.

**UPDATE** My quandary is moot; the vet just called to tell me Red succumbed to the shock and passed this morning. After the reaction I had with Moki I would have thought I would be more upset. I'm sad, but I was able to joke with Mr. Wonderful about how funny it must have looked to see the vet perform CPR. I'm not going to lie; I feel a little guilty about that. 

Maybe part of me knew that when Mr. Wonderful took him yesterday he wouldn't be coming home. I also know aside from not taking him in sooner I did all I could this time around and if the vet couldn't save him it was meant to be and I'm glad he's no longer suffering.

It's sad, I'm sad, but it's ok, and who knows, maybe when I actually see him tonight when I pick him up the reality will set in and I will shed a tear or two.

I guess I will just have one bird who thinks an awful lot about herself and I don't have to worry about her bullying anyone anymore. I also am relieved I don't need to worry about the potential vet bills, buying one bigger cage, or spend anymore time thinking about where I'm going to put two cages-not only while I'm in the middle of moving, but also where I'll put them once I'm moved.

Does that make me a terrible person (and pet owner) for finding relief in that?

the Vander Linden curse

Remember this post? Yesterday it reared its ugly head again. The bane of my existence and the root of a lot of my body insecurities...that's right, I'm talking about the Vander Linden curse.

For those of you who have either never seen me or have been living under a rock the entire time you've known me I'm, well, let's just say more blessed than most women. I come from a long line of well endowed women. My mom's side has dubbed it the Vander Linden curse-because we all have those damn Dutch genes and let's face it-any one who has naturally what others  have to pay for can tell you what a curse it actually is.

Anyway, I went up to This is the Place for my first costume fitting last night. I had hoped that since it's not community theatre they may have something that would fit the girls. Yeah, no such luck.

So the bad news is I don't fit into any of the "Work and the Glory" costumes-no really-that's what they are. The park bought them from the LHM Company.

But the good news is because I'm such a freak of nature I'm making Tate happy because I get a brand new dress and that's what he wanted to do all along...

I guess it's a good thing I didn't have to pay for my curves the way most do...but then I think the emotional price is higher... You bet I'm grasping at straws for the silver lining here...

My problem is I have enough for three...

why can't we be friends?

I have a friend. You may remember them from this post. I would like to say things have gotten better between us, but they haven't. It's possible things have gotten even worse. I want to save this relationship more than anything, but I feel we are at a stalemate. I will never be able to support certain decisions they are making, and as a result I'm not in their life anymore. Now I'm not playing the 'woe is me' angle, just stating these are the consequences of my choices-like it or not. For the record I HATE it.

When I try to be in touch with this person and try to reconnect with them I get a lot of 'yeah that sounds like fun, I'll let you know', and more importantly, 'we need to get together to talk about this', but nothing ever comes to fruition. They are the ones with the schedule conflicts so I ask them to let me know what days/nights work for them and I'll make it happen. They say ok, sounds good, then NOTHING. Honestly it feels like a brush-off. I'm at a loss. I want to save this relationship, but not only do I NOT know what I need to do-but also I feel like the other person doesn't care enough to try. I can't do it alone, but I'm also not going to be a nag about it. Am I asking for too much for it to be a team effort? I know they have a lot on their plate, I KNOW they're going through a lot, and I don't have any desire to add to the burden, but I also know what they're willing to save, and it feels like our friendship isn't on that list. That hurts. A lot.

So dear readers, I'm coming to YOU. I hope I have kept it as unbiased as possible because I need to know what you would do in this situation. Should I continue to try and save something that is becoming more and more one-sided or should I just let go and move on?

big blonde and beautiful

I love shows. Watching them, being in them, you name it, I love it. My favorite part is the costumes-especially when I get to wear them. The right costume can really make you feel the part you're playing as well as draw your audience into the world you're trying to create. I know you've all seen stage productions where the costumes didn't jive and you were distracted because of it. With that being said....


I HATE COSTUMES.

I hate even more when I have to find my own--no, I'm not a diva.
I will wear almost anything-as long as it fits into the following criteria:

I have to be able to wear a NORMAL bra. I don't want to go commando with the girls-and I'm pretty sure no one else wants me to, either.
In the event I have to change costumes I have to be able to get in and out of them relatively easy with little to no help.
I have to be able to MOVE the way the director wants me to. Besides wearing an uncomfortable costume is the pits.
I hate looking for them because:

Real women have curves.
Most of the time I love mine-until it's time
to do another show and end up feeling
like a fatty.

Nine times out of ten I'm in a show that isn't set in this century. That makes finding authentic-looking costume pieces rather difficult. Don't suggest thrift stores and DI. I ALWAYS strike out there-except last year. I got almost new tap shoes for $4.00. No joke.

I'm a curvy girl-but my curves aren't ordinary. Not many people have a 16-inch discrepancy between their bust and their waist (true story), so finding costumes that fit without making me look like a box is tough. Which leads me to reason three:

Costumes are EXPENSIVE! I have no problem contributing to my costume pieces because then I know it will actually fit-and I get to keep them after-but hot damn! I'm either paying through the nose purchasing "specialty" items or paying for it in my limited free time between rehearsals to make something.

For my latest show I need 50's era attire. Here's the catch-think Rizzo and Marty Maraschino-I am THE stereotypical bad girl-all my clothes have to look like I was poured into them-director's words-not mine.

Any comments on where to go to find possible costume ideas let me know. I've got a little less than a month so time is of the essence.

is your filter really THAT broken?

Man, all it seems I do on here lately is bitch...I'm sorry.

I have another reason I don’t like weddings-hopefully I am not the only one and you singletons can relate. Being forced through the duration of the wedding/reception to endure the “status of your relationship/when are YOU getting married” comments if you’re with someone, and the “you’re next!/you should get on it” comments if you’re single.

I get that it comes from a place of love. I get that you’re trying to be supportive. I get that because we are friends or family you feel you have a right to say these things and it immediately exempts you from being tactless or stops you from being a jerk. What YOU don’t get is it’s NOT loving. It’s NOT supportive, IT IS tactless and it DOES make you a jerk. By keeping these comments to yourself you are being light years more supportive than the people who let it fly and subsequently make me feel like shit.

I am all for girl power. Girls can do most anything that a man can do. Except propose. So don’t suggest it. I have never and WILL NEVER entertain the idea of getting down on one knee. Proposing is the one thing that should ALWAYS be left to a man. I have yet to meet a man that wants his woman to propose, and I WILL NOT take his thunder. I want to know he wants me because he asked me, not because I flipped the tables and put him on the spot in an awkward situation. More power to the girls who do it, but it’s not for me. I also find it HILARIOUS that the people who tell me to do this are the women who are waiting for their own man to propose or had their husbands propose to them after they waited for them to do it. If you yourself didn't get down on one knee (or aren't planning to) and ask for your man's hand in marriage telling me to will promptly make my eyes glaze over and start to drool profusely. Plus it makes you a hypocrite. So don't.

It’s one thing if I was making comments to anyone who will listen, but I’m not. With the exception of my blog (which is mine and my thoughts and feelings so I'm just entitled to put them here as you are to NOT read them) I don’t say anything to anyone. Why they feel the need to constantly remind me of what I don’t have, I don't know. I’m well aware, thanks. Although I know I could be happier, I’m not unhappy. I’m content. Why isn’t this good enough for these people? MY OWN PARENTS aren’t riding me to get married, so why is everyone else?

I’m not the only one who is privy to these tactless, insensitive comments. My friend is 7.5 months pregnant, not any bigger than any other pregnant woman who is 7.5 months along, yet people think it’s ok to tell her she’s having twins, looks huge for how far along she is, ready to pop any day now, or may be giving birth to a horse. A HORSE! When did tact become optional?

I'm tired of not saying anything because I don't want to be percieved as the bitter girl unable to get herself married off-which is NOT the case. Unless I bring it up, IT’S NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUISNESS!! I’m to the point I’m just going to start making snarky comments about the things THEY don’t want brought up about them in retort. Maybe by turning the tables they’ll get that it doesn’t matter how well-meaning their comments are. They hurt, it’s none of their business, and I’m tired of being forced to endure them with a graceful “joke’s on me” smile on my face.

I just want to live my life and not have to endure any more unwanted or unsolicited marriage comments. From anyone. Exept Mr. Wonderful. Those are welcome. But only from him. Everyone else needs to shusha their mouths.

a rock and a hard place

*DISCLAIMER* This blog is the closest thing to a journal that I have. Because of this sometimes it's a dumping place for things I need to work out, stuff I need to feel sorry for myself over, and the occasional rant. Today is one of those days and this post contains all three. Because it's my blog and I do what I want, I am not censoring myself. Consider yourself warned if you read on.

I'm stuck. I hate being stuck-especially over something so trivial. I know I'm making this decision harder than it should be, but I've been in a similar situation before. I made the wrong choice and I was MISERABLE. I don't want to do it again, and if that means I have to over think things, so be it.

I wasn't offered a principle part in the latest show I auditioned for-whatev-I didn't have my heart set on anything and I'm used to not being what directors are looking for. I was, however invited to be part of the cast. There are still six women's roles available they are casting after the first rehearsal (think Ronettes from Little Shop, Silly Girls from Beauty and the Beast, and Hot Box Dancers from Guys and Dolls). Not originally something I had thought of doing, but it's something I tend to be cast as a lot, something that I know I ROCK at (because come on, that's ALL I'm cast as), and something that could be fun none the less. Bad news: I have to commit to the show before I know exactly what I will be doing. I don't want to commit, get passed over (again), and spend my summer being miserable, nameless, faceless scenery. But I have to commit. Soon. And by soon I mean TODAY. A blind leap if I ever heard one. Mr. Wonderful doesn't want me to-mostly because he doesn't want me to be as miserable as I was the last time. I just don't know. I don't have the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach like I did before, but I don't like not knowing exactly what I'm committing to and potentially getting something I will NOT be happy with. I'm just tired of feeling like all I ever do is settle.

Maybe the Universe is trying to tell me I need to be done for a while. Every part I have lost recently I have lost to a beautiful, petite ingenue, and let's face it-as much as I want to be those things, I'm just not. I'm just not ever what these people are looking for and I'm tired of letting stupid things continue to break my heart and make me doubt my talent and worth. I just don't know.

day three

My idea of a perfect first date. wow. I hate first dates more than pretty much anything. You're nervous and worried about making a good first impression. Nerves and trying to impress are NEVER a good combination. First dates are one step up from a job interview...hell. Let's be honest. First dates ARE a job interview.

I don't think I have EVER had a good first date-including my first date with Mr. Wonderful, so I'm just going to say my ideal first date would include the following:

1. You are able to feel comfortable
2. Conversation flows easily. (For someone who struggles with making small talk this is a biggie)
3. You can be yourself-because let's face it-cat's gonna come out of the bag eventually, so you might as well do it from the get-go, right?
4. A man who isn't afraid to be a gentleman. Chivalry is NOT dead guys.
5. You have enough in common to get along, but are different enough to still be interesting.
6. Anything that DOESN'T involve anything you can't talk during-movie, play, etc. How are you supposed to get to know each other when you're prohibited from talking?
7. I'm not gonna lie. I'm a sucker for bowling, mini-golf, and rollerskating. It's impossible to not be yourself when you're doing any of these things...BUT I had a date take me go-karting once. Although it was fun helmet hair is NOT good for a first date.
8. A non-awkward goodnight hug and a call or text in the next couple of days if he wants to go out again. Waiting is no bueno-but I've also had guys who WOULDN'T stop calling and texting. That's even WORSE guys.
9. And most importantly--if you're not interested in going out again SAY SO. It's tough, but nothing is worse than waiting for a call you were told is coming that doesn't. And if you're told "thanks but no thanks" STOP CALLING THEM. (yes that happened to me too-I had to be a jerk to this one.)

Hopefully I won't ever have to have another first date again. I'm uneasy just looking at this list.

crazy?

I have come to the conclusion I am in fact, insane. But why, you may ask?

Because I am the very epitome of this quote. After each failure (read=rejection) I still return, hopefully repeating the process- same as before. All the while being annoyingly optimistic in my hoping that THIS time will be different, THIS time I will be able to portray to others the fire that is in me, THIS time I won't have to remind myself I have to taste the bitter before I can know the sweet. THIS time I won't have to run into Mr. Wonderful's arms for comfort, but rather in celebration.

Insane because instead of saying "enough is enough" and stopping this ridiculous behavior I continue to try-hoping each time it will be different-when it's usually the same result. Yet I continue thinking that sometime something will have to give and I will no longer be the "rule", but rather the "exception".

Insane? I should think so, yet I still look forward to every new opportunity like a fool. Here's hoping tonight goes better than the last week...

the one where kristen turns 30...

It's times like this I wish I had photoshop--because I would SO cut and paste my pic in here...

Rachel: Okay! Y’know what? I realized it was stupid to get upset about not having a husband and kids. All I really needed was a plan. See I wanna have three kids…
Phoebe: Oh let me guess, and you wanna have them all at the same time and you wanna have them for your brother.
Rachel: As I was saying… I should probably have the first of the three kids by the time I’m 35 which gives me five years. I love this plan! I wanna marry this plan!
Phoebe: If you could do that, I’d marry the hippity-hop.
Rachel: So, if I wanna have my kid when I’m 35, I don’t have to get pregnant until I’m 34. Which gives Prada four years to start making maternity clothes! Oh wait, but I do want to be married for a year before I get pregnant…
Monica: Really! That long?! (Chandler slowly turns and looks at her.) (To Chandler) Look all you want, it’s happening!
Rachel: No, so I don’t have to get married until I’m 33! That’s three years, that’s three whole years—Oh, wait a minute though. I’ll need a year and a half to plan the wedding, and I’d like to know the guy for a year, year and a half before we get engaged… Which means I need to meet the guy by the time I’m thirty.
Ross: Which is fine! Because you just turned—(Removes two candles from the cake)—twenty-eight!
Rachel: No! Ross, no! It is not fine! Eh-eh-according to my plan I should already be with the guy I wanna marry!

There's no way to say this and not sound completely pathetic, so I'm just gonna say it.
Yeah...it took me turning thirty to be able to FULLY appreciate Rachel and her frustration/desperation here.
Only I wanted to be married-almost done having kids-maybe one or two more-by the time I was thirty. Yeah THAT'S not happening. Usually I'm ok with it--until times like this weekend and I REALLY think about it. THEN I hear an incessant "TICK TICK TICK" in the back of my brain and I realize my time is running out. Then panic mode sets in because I realize this one is COMPLETELY OUT OF MY HANDS.
Normally if I want something I just go out and get it. But this situation doesn't work that way. And it SUCKS. Plus it doesn't help any when my happily married with children friends get all smug and say crap like "don't worry, you'll get your turn." Yeah. That's REAL easy for you to say. You're already livin' the dream. Or the person who was married at 19 and a parent at 20 is trying to "relate" because they remember wondering and stressing if it was ever going to happen for them too. Gah! Word of wisdom my friends: If you've already got what the person wants or you yourself have not been down a damn near identical road don't say crap like that. EVER. All you'll get is a smack in the face.

After all this stressing marriage and motherhood better be all it's cracked up to be otherwise I'm gonna be PISSED.
Funny how life doesn't EVER work out the way you planned. Being single is HARD.
Ok, I've vented. I'm better now...kinda.

Mindless dribble and chronic headaches

So this weekend was an interesting one. We are going into our slow season at Joe's, and I had forgotten how much it sucks. Having six tables for a Saturday night blows. On the bright side the weather was nice so being out on the patio wasn't as hellish as it usually is. Hopefully by the first of October it'll be closed for the season. I'm so over being outside.

Yesterday was my best friend's birthday. Her husband Jason decided to throw her a surprise party. Now if you knew Amber you'd know that surprising her isn't an easy thing. She's the one who hunts for presents and peeks weeks before Christmas. So the fact that Jay pulled it off was an impressive one. It was fun to see everyone and my girls. I couldn't love her kids more if they were my own. She's done such a good job with them. They are turning out great.

The Landon boy--ice cream was FAR more interesting than me.

Miss Makala-She's the oldest

Miss Ashton--my sweet little middle girl

So life is still life-and trust me, the less you know the better-but I am SO over these chronic headaches. Stress sucks, and I just want it to go away!!! The one bright spot is that in a little less than five months I will be in the Happiest Place on Earth with three of my most favoritest people-Kimmy, Sparky, and Branny. Huzzah!