So I was thinking. And then I stopped thinking. I had an amazing day Saturday and the reaction I've had to my pictorial rendition of it on DailyBooth has been really wonderful. Then I come into work for night shifts.
8 hours of sitting doing relatively little and using the internet seems like a laugh, doesn't it?
Except when you've spent a day being hugely social and meeting new people, you want to keep being social with these new people. Instead I'm sat looking at American tweeters whom I don't really know and hearing my thoughts echo round the inside of my head whilst somewhat random European music batters the outside of my head. It's a lonely period.
I don't mind spending time alone. It gives me a great sense of adventure and calm and all manner of freedom. It also can be like a torture when your tied into doing almost nothing through a less than obliging IE6 powered interface.
Every night I arrive and set-up for the night ahead. Once I'm settled, it's guaranteed that the first thing I see on Twitter while getting comfortable is "goodnight" from most of the people I could want to spend time talking to.
I wish there were some sort of neural relay I could use to play computer games out of sight, or one of those feedback loops they attach to CCTV cameras in films so I could sit here reading a book or using my DS. It's an irritation that I have little of consequence to accomplish right now.
And now I've just had a slight distraction via someone actually coming to the desk but it's all over so quickly. I return to a tweet about a great sounding night out with a fit ginger guy involved. It's really lame.
Skimming over my rota, I see little opportunity for a night on the town. But then again, I've got a massive weekend that will be awesome at the end of the month so maybe I should be less down.
I will make this time worthwhile. Somehow. And the future weekend will be made of awesome.
Or I will cry.
[/emo]
Tuesday 19 January 2010
Wednesday 13 January 2010
OkGo Gig is Awesome
And the title pretty much sums it up. Thanks for reading. Bye!
---
Oh, you want more? Actually I suppose it's up to me isn't it...
Tonight I made up for missing the last two tours and saw OkGo at the O2Academy in Birmingham. I was very late getting there due to me faffing about trying to get things to work for YouTube and generally being useless at sticking to a schedule. I left the house about an hour and a half late and ran to the train station as quickly as my non-stick shoes would allow. I then waited for 15 minutes for a train.
The train was of course a little late and as I arrived on the least helpful of platforms to my cause, I sprinted along it, leapt up the escalator and travelled swiftly through the concourse. No one checked my ticket.
I dodged taxis outside the station, I dodged traffic on the dual carriageway and I ran alongside some buses as they crossed a major crossroads. Scooted under the blessedly less flooded than normal subway and almost slipped on the heavily used road surface outside the car hire depot but I was finally there.
I got into the stairwell to the venue and was pleasantly serenaded by a band I'd never heard before. I'd made it! One overpriced pint of Strongbow later and they were setting up for the main event.
It took almost a whole other pint for the roadies to finish setting up and sound checks. For some reason I've yet to fathom, their longest job seemed to be fiddling with a laptop and getting a pedal to cue up some Daft Punk. I wouldn't have minded but I didn't hear the Daft Punk stuff at any point in the set so I'm a little confused.
Finally the lights go out and out come the band. First the bass player, Tim Nordwind, comes up and puts on his bass only to start playing a big drum that's been helpfully set-up near his mic stand. Then the front man, Damian Kulash, gets his guitar and starts playing one of the songs from the new album. It's quite tranquil, and the rest of the band; multi-instrument guy Andy Ross and drummer Dan Konopka, get in position and the music starts up louder. Nice gear change.
The majority of their set was new stuff, which I found odd considering the album only came out yesterday. In spite of that hurdle the new songs was very well received by the crowd and it was really nice to hear them in a different format after the single listen I'd given the album before coming out.
Something I found odd when I went to a signing with them in before was that Tim and Andy seemed quite stoic. This continued tonight but in context it made a lot of sense. They are both very talented at their instruments and Damian is very good as a front man so the dynamic works.
I think in Andy I've found a new thing to fancy about a man. Outwardly I don't find him all that attractive; his hair's too long for starters. But watching him playing guitar, keyboards, pipe bells, tambourine and cowbell with proficiency and accuracy made him rather irresistible. The suit trousers helped, obviously.
I also re-realised that I tend not to sing along to the main melody in most songs. I've kinda always known this but when the backing is so integral, as it is in OkGo's songs, it brings it into the light. I really enjoy singing to these songs on the album and joining a crowd sing-along with a backing vocal gives me a fuzzy feeling inside. It just feels so right.
On then to the highlight of the gig. In the middle of the main set, they brought out a table, lay a sheet of foam on it and covered that with a red tablecloth. Then they brought out a lot of handbells. They proceeded to play, on the bells with little amplification, 'What To Do' from the first album. I've always loved this song and tend to sing it most times that I'm at a loss as to what I should be doing, but this version was beyond either of the versions I have on disc and any version I'd imagined. Please click here and enjoy. (Not the same gig as mine)
Overall, they very much earned the £12 I spent on the ticket as well as the further £12 I spent on a copy of the new album after the show. I will never miss their gig again.
---
Oh, you want more? Actually I suppose it's up to me isn't it...
Tonight I made up for missing the last two tours and saw OkGo at the O2Academy in Birmingham. I was very late getting there due to me faffing about trying to get things to work for YouTube and generally being useless at sticking to a schedule. I left the house about an hour and a half late and ran to the train station as quickly as my non-stick shoes would allow. I then waited for 15 minutes for a train.
The train was of course a little late and as I arrived on the least helpful of platforms to my cause, I sprinted along it, leapt up the escalator and travelled swiftly through the concourse. No one checked my ticket.
I dodged taxis outside the station, I dodged traffic on the dual carriageway and I ran alongside some buses as they crossed a major crossroads. Scooted under the blessedly less flooded than normal subway and almost slipped on the heavily used road surface outside the car hire depot but I was finally there.
I got into the stairwell to the venue and was pleasantly serenaded by a band I'd never heard before. I'd made it! One overpriced pint of Strongbow later and they were setting up for the main event.
It took almost a whole other pint for the roadies to finish setting up and sound checks. For some reason I've yet to fathom, their longest job seemed to be fiddling with a laptop and getting a pedal to cue up some Daft Punk. I wouldn't have minded but I didn't hear the Daft Punk stuff at any point in the set so I'm a little confused.
Finally the lights go out and out come the band. First the bass player, Tim Nordwind, comes up and puts on his bass only to start playing a big drum that's been helpfully set-up near his mic stand. Then the front man, Damian Kulash, gets his guitar and starts playing one of the songs from the new album. It's quite tranquil, and the rest of the band; multi-instrument guy Andy Ross and drummer Dan Konopka, get in position and the music starts up louder. Nice gear change.
The majority of their set was new stuff, which I found odd considering the album only came out yesterday. In spite of that hurdle the new songs was very well received by the crowd and it was really nice to hear them in a different format after the single listen I'd given the album before coming out.
Something I found odd when I went to a signing with them in before was that Tim and Andy seemed quite stoic. This continued tonight but in context it made a lot of sense. They are both very talented at their instruments and Damian is very good as a front man so the dynamic works.
I think in Andy I've found a new thing to fancy about a man. Outwardly I don't find him all that attractive; his hair's too long for starters. But watching him playing guitar, keyboards, pipe bells, tambourine and cowbell with proficiency and accuracy made him rather irresistible. The suit trousers helped, obviously.
I also re-realised that I tend not to sing along to the main melody in most songs. I've kinda always known this but when the backing is so integral, as it is in OkGo's songs, it brings it into the light. I really enjoy singing to these songs on the album and joining a crowd sing-along with a backing vocal gives me a fuzzy feeling inside. It just feels so right.
On then to the highlight of the gig. In the middle of the main set, they brought out a table, lay a sheet of foam on it and covered that with a red tablecloth. Then they brought out a lot of handbells. They proceeded to play, on the bells with little amplification, 'What To Do' from the first album. I've always loved this song and tend to sing it most times that I'm at a loss as to what I should be doing, but this version was beyond either of the versions I have on disc and any version I'd imagined. Please click here and enjoy. (Not the same gig as mine)
Overall, they very much earned the £12 I spent on the ticket as well as the further £12 I spent on a copy of the new album after the show. I will never miss their gig again.
Thursday 7 January 2010
Enjoying the day. (Minimal Snow mention, I promise)
Today was full of much. I will commence writing about said day, now.
I got a call this morning at 7am from work. At that point I'd been asleep for less than 4 hours. Needless to say (but I will anyway) their interruption was not pleasing in spite of the fact they called with the intent of giving me an extra day off. I told them I'd call them back after think about it when I was more un-asleep, but almost as soon as I was asked I knew I didn't want to do it. I'd much rather be in work bored than at home doing stuff. At least bored at work I get money that makes stuff possible. And I have the internet there.
So my minds pretty made up when I get another call from the office at noon. I chose not to answer cause it's about time they realised that it's my day off. From the message left it seemed that they'd done a total one-eighty and now not only wanted me working but they wanted me to do the 7am start. So I rang them back and everything was back to the original plan of me doing the 3pm shift.
Two phonecalls, two breaks in my sleep, and two paragraphs have happened but nothing has changed. Typical.
So I got up, finally gave final utility meter readings to the providers I've not used for over two weeks and mustered up the willpower and awakeness to go round my Grandparents and take down the Xmas decorations. Except at this point all I actually had to do was take the drawing pins out of the wall and drink tea. It seems my Nan got bored in the week she's been waiting for me to find the time to help out. It was nice anyway to see that both of my Grandparents have recovered a little from the winter injuries and illness that they'd suffered over Xmas.
Anyway, the reason I bring the visit up was that my Nan asked if I'd seen the Doctor Who regeneration. Of course we both knew it was a rhetorical question so she went on to say how she liked it and thought it was funny how he thought he was a woman. It was really cool hearing how my 70+ year old Nan had enjoyed watching the biggest geek event of the last week. I told her of my position on the whole regeneration, and how I was a fan of the show first and foremost and she agreed with me and told me how she'd watched it since William Hartnell. It was a wondrous thing to hear from a woman who I'd say was an average viewer. How she's kept watching it and enjoyed it right though. Now I wouldn't say she's a massive fan in those terms but she's a viewer and she's kept up with it and that to me is marvellous.
Onwards from there with the promise of future sausage rolls and I was on my way to Birmingham to meet Stuart for food, catch-up and Sherlock Holmes. Irritatingly I found as I sat waiting for the train, my DS battery was to the point of Red Light. So I switched to my phone to occupy myself on Twitter and the battery on that was pronounced "low". I sat with at least an hour of travel time there and back lying ahead and I was sans applications. Not only that, but my attempt to coral snow into a ball was a complete fail due to the whole lot being more powdery than a dressing room of paranoid actresses who heard that heavily Talc'd faces were all the rage.
So I spent the first and shortest journey sitting on my hands and go to meet Stu at the cinema. We get tickets and go to the traditional catch up and eat place, The Pub. We had a fun chat and remarked on what we were planning for the future and how things are in our new homes and all was fun and then we went to see Sherlock Holmes.
We went to the Odeon, where all food and drink costs more than anything I could've bought in the pub. We were shown to our screen only to find that in spite of there being a Premier Seat Option the room itself was quite small. Seems that the Premier Seats were just slightly larger with more leg room and a head rest. Not worth paying extra really. Thankfully, I didn't.
During the stunning trailers (Clash of the Titans looks Awesome), I realised why me and Stu had stayed friends. We still have the same in-jokes, we still find joy in silly little inflections and we can still really enjoy spending time together. For this reason I am glad that we're keeping in touch.
Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant film that I felt filled the percentage bar of complete triumph pretty completely. Suffice to say that if you haven't seen it yet, you should. We left the cinema and made a short stop in Tesco. Stu bought two magazines based purely on the attractive men promised inside and we both learnt that Hall's Soothers have literally no medicinal value whatsoever (seriously read the packet) before we left there and went our separate ways.
A short wait in the cold and I'm on a 40 minute bus ride back to Dudley. I try my DS and get one puzzle done on Rittai Picross before it dies and I sit somewhat contentedly on my hands in the warm seats next to the engine.
Arriving in Dudley, I'm reminded of how the chip shops of the Black Country are characterised not only by greatness but also by early closing times and I text my mate Tom to see if they're still drinking in town. Thankfully just before my bus rounded the corner I was told that there was actually drinking happening across town and made it there just in time for last orders.
It's nice knowing that drinking with my old friends is so accessible now. I used to go a whole year without seeing them. In the case of James I could happily never see him again but on the whole it is win-worthy that we get this chance so frequently now. The conversation is a little loud due to (I assume) their drinking and attempts made to speak over each other. It doesn't matter. The conversation goes a little beyond my musical experience but thankfully not too far past my knowledge so fun is had. And I got complimented on my video and my ability to look good in a photo which I didn't know I had.
The taxi home cost me £10 due to change-fail but I am now promised a drink in future, and on the whole I had a great day.
My night since returning has been crisps and typing this. It's all good to me though. Recounting fun times is fun. And if you're still reading this, thanks. It's nice that you care so much about my massive blog post. I will also accept it being nice that you are this bored and have chosen to spend the time reading the above. I would suggest to either group that you actually stalk me. It'd be cool for you to get out of the house at least.
I got a call this morning at 7am from work. At that point I'd been asleep for less than 4 hours. Needless to say (but I will anyway) their interruption was not pleasing in spite of the fact they called with the intent of giving me an extra day off. I told them I'd call them back after think about it when I was more un-asleep, but almost as soon as I was asked I knew I didn't want to do it. I'd much rather be in work bored than at home doing stuff. At least bored at work I get money that makes stuff possible. And I have the internet there.
So my minds pretty made up when I get another call from the office at noon. I chose not to answer cause it's about time they realised that it's my day off. From the message left it seemed that they'd done a total one-eighty and now not only wanted me working but they wanted me to do the 7am start. So I rang them back and everything was back to the original plan of me doing the 3pm shift.
Two phonecalls, two breaks in my sleep, and two paragraphs have happened but nothing has changed. Typical.
So I got up, finally gave final utility meter readings to the providers I've not used for over two weeks and mustered up the willpower and awakeness to go round my Grandparents and take down the Xmas decorations. Except at this point all I actually had to do was take the drawing pins out of the wall and drink tea. It seems my Nan got bored in the week she's been waiting for me to find the time to help out. It was nice anyway to see that both of my Grandparents have recovered a little from the winter injuries and illness that they'd suffered over Xmas.
Anyway, the reason I bring the visit up was that my Nan asked if I'd seen the Doctor Who regeneration. Of course we both knew it was a rhetorical question so she went on to say how she liked it and thought it was funny how he thought he was a woman. It was really cool hearing how my 70+ year old Nan had enjoyed watching the biggest geek event of the last week. I told her of my position on the whole regeneration, and how I was a fan of the show first and foremost and she agreed with me and told me how she'd watched it since William Hartnell. It was a wondrous thing to hear from a woman who I'd say was an average viewer. How she's kept watching it and enjoyed it right though. Now I wouldn't say she's a massive fan in those terms but she's a viewer and she's kept up with it and that to me is marvellous.
Onwards from there with the promise of future sausage rolls and I was on my way to Birmingham to meet Stuart for food, catch-up and Sherlock Holmes. Irritatingly I found as I sat waiting for the train, my DS battery was to the point of Red Light. So I switched to my phone to occupy myself on Twitter and the battery on that was pronounced "low". I sat with at least an hour of travel time there and back lying ahead and I was sans applications. Not only that, but my attempt to coral snow into a ball was a complete fail due to the whole lot being more powdery than a dressing room of paranoid actresses who heard that heavily Talc'd faces were all the rage.
So I spent the first and shortest journey sitting on my hands and go to meet Stu at the cinema. We get tickets and go to the traditional catch up and eat place, The Pub. We had a fun chat and remarked on what we were planning for the future and how things are in our new homes and all was fun and then we went to see Sherlock Holmes.
We went to the Odeon, where all food and drink costs more than anything I could've bought in the pub. We were shown to our screen only to find that in spite of there being a Premier Seat Option the room itself was quite small. Seems that the Premier Seats were just slightly larger with more leg room and a head rest. Not worth paying extra really. Thankfully, I didn't.
During the stunning trailers (Clash of the Titans looks Awesome), I realised why me and Stu had stayed friends. We still have the same in-jokes, we still find joy in silly little inflections and we can still really enjoy spending time together. For this reason I am glad that we're keeping in touch.
Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant film that I felt filled the percentage bar of complete triumph pretty completely. Suffice to say that if you haven't seen it yet, you should. We left the cinema and made a short stop in Tesco. Stu bought two magazines based purely on the attractive men promised inside and we both learnt that Hall's Soothers have literally no medicinal value whatsoever (seriously read the packet) before we left there and went our separate ways.
A short wait in the cold and I'm on a 40 minute bus ride back to Dudley. I try my DS and get one puzzle done on Rittai Picross before it dies and I sit somewhat contentedly on my hands in the warm seats next to the engine.
Arriving in Dudley, I'm reminded of how the chip shops of the Black Country are characterised not only by greatness but also by early closing times and I text my mate Tom to see if they're still drinking in town. Thankfully just before my bus rounded the corner I was told that there was actually drinking happening across town and made it there just in time for last orders.
It's nice knowing that drinking with my old friends is so accessible now. I used to go a whole year without seeing them. In the case of James I could happily never see him again but on the whole it is win-worthy that we get this chance so frequently now. The conversation is a little loud due to (I assume) their drinking and attempts made to speak over each other. It doesn't matter. The conversation goes a little beyond my musical experience but thankfully not too far past my knowledge so fun is had. And I got complimented on my video and my ability to look good in a photo which I didn't know I had.
The taxi home cost me £10 due to change-fail but I am now promised a drink in future, and on the whole I had a great day.
My night since returning has been crisps and typing this. It's all good to me though. Recounting fun times is fun. And if you're still reading this, thanks. It's nice that you care so much about my massive blog post. I will also accept it being nice that you are this bored and have chosen to spend the time reading the above. I would suggest to either group that you actually stalk me. It'd be cool for you to get out of the house at least.
Monday 4 January 2010
My Journey Home
As I came to the end of my shift today, I felt I had a bit of time to relaxedly tie up remaining loose ends of jobs before I went and got changed to go home. I had a thought that perhaps I should check the bus timetable and find out exactly when I should be at the bus stop for my bus and so I did.
I had 4 minutes before I missed that bus.
Knowing, as I do, my average landspeed with a backpack and the approximate time it takes me to get out of one set of clothes and into another I was quickly aware that I had actually missed that bus.
From a quick check of another timetable I was racing up to the locker room in the hope of catching another semi-regularly used bus option but alas as I turned the corner it passed on by my stop. It was no use. I would have to get an awkward bus and walk back from Dudley.
Determined not to let the cold get me down like it has everyone else in the known universe (read: Twitter), I got onto the bus and sat down to read my book. The heater came on as we pulled away and I dived into the brilliant set-up to the Battle of Hogwarts, occasionally glancing up at the surroundings to see whether I knew where I was yet.
The bus approached Dudley with me as the only remaining passenger. I heard from the drivers cabin; "Where are you going, mate?"
I informed the man that I lived near the depot and he offered to drop me right around the corner from my house. We had a brief chat about jobs and busy-ness of said jobs and I arrived at home barely chilled.
This isn't very interesting but it does lead me to be thankful of all the little blessings. The heater, the book, the driver and the fact that the type of bus he was on placed him on a direct route past my house on the last route of his day. It all added up to me having a nice journey and a relative warmth, both physically and personally.
Simple pleasures.
I had 4 minutes before I missed that bus.
Knowing, as I do, my average landspeed with a backpack and the approximate time it takes me to get out of one set of clothes and into another I was quickly aware that I had actually missed that bus.
From a quick check of another timetable I was racing up to the locker room in the hope of catching another semi-regularly used bus option but alas as I turned the corner it passed on by my stop. It was no use. I would have to get an awkward bus and walk back from Dudley.
Determined not to let the cold get me down like it has everyone else in the known universe (read: Twitter), I got onto the bus and sat down to read my book. The heater came on as we pulled away and I dived into the brilliant set-up to the Battle of Hogwarts, occasionally glancing up at the surroundings to see whether I knew where I was yet.
The bus approached Dudley with me as the only remaining passenger. I heard from the drivers cabin; "Where are you going, mate?"
I informed the man that I lived near the depot and he offered to drop me right around the corner from my house. We had a brief chat about jobs and busy-ness of said jobs and I arrived at home barely chilled.
This isn't very interesting but it does lead me to be thankful of all the little blessings. The heater, the book, the driver and the fact that the type of bus he was on placed him on a direct route past my house on the last route of his day. It all added up to me having a nice journey and a relative warmth, both physically and personally.
Simple pleasures.
Saturday 2 January 2010
The Art of Recounting
My parents had people over for dinner today. I was very glad as my dad tends to make excessive amounts of lovely food when this happens. This time it was Chinese.
I go in to refill my inadequate bowl and on the way out overheard my mom tell a story to her guests. A story involving me and my sister. A story I don't recall happening at all.
I wonder whether I forgot this incident. The tale goes that me and my sister got t-shirt paint out that required supervision and proceeded to get it all over the carpet. Being the eighties, the paint was dayglo and so after my parents pulled back their rug (which I don't remember us having), the paint shone brightly in the neon-esque living room lighting (which I also don't recall).
I was three years old when we moved to this house. I have decent memories of the move and many things that happened before and since. I'm starting to doubt the integrity of my mother's dinner party story.
I suppose we all do this to our stories. Embellish them to make them more interesting. It's strange though, hearing a story that you're in but have no memory of occurring. It would be less weird if it were a story of things I did while of drinking age but I must have been theoretically quite young by the sound of the story.
I wish I had felt able to go into the room and inquire further as Dad's sounds of agreement validated Mom's story. Truth be told though, a good story is made great by the telling of it. Whether this story is now true is irrelevant. It came from some real place and has since being finely carved. For me to have gone in with an inquisitive mallet would have spoiled it for everyone.
And besides, I quite like the idea that I once ruined the carpet with Turtles' paint. Perhaps I'll restructure the tale from my perspective for the next time it's brought up.
I go in to refill my inadequate bowl and on the way out overheard my mom tell a story to her guests. A story involving me and my sister. A story I don't recall happening at all.
I wonder whether I forgot this incident. The tale goes that me and my sister got t-shirt paint out that required supervision and proceeded to get it all over the carpet. Being the eighties, the paint was dayglo and so after my parents pulled back their rug (which I don't remember us having), the paint shone brightly in the neon-esque living room lighting (which I also don't recall).
I was three years old when we moved to this house. I have decent memories of the move and many things that happened before and since. I'm starting to doubt the integrity of my mother's dinner party story.
I suppose we all do this to our stories. Embellish them to make them more interesting. It's strange though, hearing a story that you're in but have no memory of occurring. It would be less weird if it were a story of things I did while of drinking age but I must have been theoretically quite young by the sound of the story.
I wish I had felt able to go into the room and inquire further as Dad's sounds of agreement validated Mom's story. Truth be told though, a good story is made great by the telling of it. Whether this story is now true is irrelevant. It came from some real place and has since being finely carved. For me to have gone in with an inquisitive mallet would have spoiled it for everyone.
And besides, I quite like the idea that I once ruined the carpet with Turtles' paint. Perhaps I'll restructure the tale from my perspective for the next time it's brought up.
Friday 1 January 2010
Doctor Who is Dead. Long Live Doctor Who.
We have a new Doctor.
It's sad that David Tennant has gone but to be honest as much as I loved him before and during, I'll be a fan of the show first and foremost. I'm grateful that we were able to have him to make the role so amazing and give us his astonishing talents for 4 years. I'm also so happy that he's extended the appeal of the show by just being an amazing person outside of the show.
In short, David Tennant is amazing. He always will be and I'm proud that he's been The Doctor.
But there's a full new series on in 3 months time!
There are going to be new stories written and masterminded by one of the best showrunners in British TV. There's going to be a new Doctor and a new TARDIS and a new companion and new monsters and River Song in an appearance from earlier in her timeline. There is going to be newness all over the shop.
I think this is a *good thing*.
The past will never be forgotten but the future will never be a repeat. There's always something new to see and in Doctor Who that's ten times truer.
Proud and excited. That's me.
It's sad that David Tennant has gone but to be honest as much as I loved him before and during, I'll be a fan of the show first and foremost. I'm grateful that we were able to have him to make the role so amazing and give us his astonishing talents for 4 years. I'm also so happy that he's extended the appeal of the show by just being an amazing person outside of the show.
In short, David Tennant is amazing. He always will be and I'm proud that he's been The Doctor.
But there's a full new series on in 3 months time!
There are going to be new stories written and masterminded by one of the best showrunners in British TV. There's going to be a new Doctor and a new TARDIS and a new companion and new monsters and River Song in an appearance from earlier in her timeline. There is going to be newness all over the shop.
I think this is a *good thing*.
The past will never be forgotten but the future will never be a repeat. There's always something new to see and in Doctor Who that's ten times truer.
Proud and excited. That's me.
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