Monday, October 19, 2020

Forget #noregrets and cue #1millionregrets

There has been a lot of news lately, whether rhetorically or directly about how people can support Biden/Harris when they've held controversial, and yes even sometimes hurtful, positions on particular issues in the past. It got me thinking about the #noregrets culture that has been so popular, and how that has somehow been a funnel into the current cancel culture we are experiencing so visibly today. I am not sure how it started, or why it started, but I do know it is COMPLETE. BULLSHIT. I kind of went crazy in college and did some erroneous stuff. Gram, if you're reading this is where you want to stop, trust me. I lived in large houses packed in with several friends and we had some of the wildest parties I have ever attended, and our yearly Halloween parties were amongst the craziest. My friends and I would come up with wild costumes and fill entire coolers with everclear and any other liquor we could secure with our fake ID's (I don't mean put ice into the cooler and then put in bottled beverages, I mean just pour the liquor straight into a cooler and then ladle it out into a plastic cup). There are photos of me dancing on a pool table, mostly (OK, fully) nude and acting like a lunatic. I am not sharing all of this to relive the "good old days" but to set the scene for something I am about to type and put on the internet that I am so deeply ashamed and certainly have one million regrets over. One year for Halloween, I dressed in black face. Sigh. That sucked to even type out. I just typed and then deleted an explanation of why I did this because honestly it doesn't matter. It was hurtful and it contributed to systemic racism and is a blaring example of my white privilege. If I could go back and change it, I would. I am embarrassed and my views (obviously) have shifted dramatically since that time roughly twenty years ago. It's something I'll have to live with when I lay in bed next to my black husband and perhaps my daughter will see someday and to which I might have to offer an explanation. /// I say all of this to go back to the original point which is people change and evolve and hopefully their evolution is for the better. Thinking of my coming out story my own mother wept for her child, worried about his soul and if he'd secure a place in heaven for being gay. Fast forward a few years and she wept tears of joy at her son's wedding to the man of his dreams and wrote a blog for other struggling parents of LGBTQ youth. And it's not just changes from decades past. I regret deeply my tone yesterday with my husband. I regret not taking the plunge and restarting my career sooner. I regret not finding a way to spend more days with my sister and my dad and my Grandpa while they were here. We are all works in progress. /// A few years back I was really personally struggling in my retail career and somehow convinced my employer to let me be the social media "face" of our brand (sidenote, still can't believe they said yes). I knew I couldn't do the 60-hour-a-week intense job for much longer so I just made up a completely different job that I thought might fulfill me. The company flew me to New York City and I took a video making boot camp and was off to the races making videos for customers about the company, brands we sold, and showcasing my own parenting skills by including my daughter. Things went great for the first few months and I felt really happy with the 100K+ views my videos were getting. I would wake up sometimes in the middle of the night just to check the views. It was like a drug. I even flew across the country and made an "event appearance" at one of our store locations in the midwest. There were other blogger competitors in the field who were pretty unhappy about this and when I did a video on a product that directly impacted child safety (BTW, to which I was and still am totally unqualified to be talking about to thousands of people) the entire web lit me up. I started getting death threats in the comments, people sent letters to the CEO about how I was a baby-murderer, and one of these bloggers actually issued a post to their millions of followers calling for the "cancellation" of my entire company because they "let me post this inaccurate garbage to the internet." It totally sucked. But here is another example of this cancel culture. Should I have known better and done more research and been more prepared? Absolutely. I never did another video and wallowed in that job for another year before finally having the bravery to finally leave and pursue my true passion. It was a learning experience in listening to myself, that inner part of me and to "don't go chasing waterfalls."/// So back to the beginning. I have dozens and dozens of things I am deeply regretful of. I just admitted some of them to you. Sometimes a simple "sorry" just isn't enough, especially if you've hurt people. You have to just keep saying it, and more importantly SHOWING IT, and reconcile it within yourself. I've changed so much in the past ten years, and ten years before that, and tens years before that too. My learning has directly and indirectly hurt some of the people I love the most. So I don't buy into #noregrets and as I sort through this internally think it actually is really harmful to have this mentality. Growth is hard, but necessary./// Back to this election. Before anyone goes in on me, I get it---we can't have it both ways. I can't forgive Joe and Kamala for the sins of their past and not be willing to forgive Trump. But, here in proves my fundamental issue with Trump and his followers. I never hear "I'm sorry" or "forgive me." In fact, I hear that "systemic racism isn't real" and lots of bullying and mean tweets to anyone who demands an apology for the way he treated them or spoke to them. I can understand the defense of saying things you don't mean about war heroes or those with disabilities, but you've got to stand up and say sorry and change your ways. Maybe the "you're fired" and cancel culture are connected? As we all begin voting (PLEASE VOTE) my bets and hopes are on the empathetic person who I've seen overcome tragedy and heard time and time again, "I made a mistake, I was wrong, please forgive me." And even more importantly, I hope others see me this way too. If I have hurt you in the past (which is likely as I type this out) whether directly or indirectly I am so sorry and please forgive me.

Thursday, August 13, 2020

Day 151 and Counting

It's hard to believe it has been 151 days since we began this shelter-in-place began. In true AJ fashion, I am up early and feeling an intense desire to write. I just re-read my last post from early April where I was navigating feelings about 20+ days into isolation and how "this new normal doesn't feel normal at all." Fast forward 131 more and THAT time feels more normal than I can hardly remember. Back then, we were still cleaning out closets, coming up with home projects, organizing online school work, and still trying to treasure the slower pace and ability to connect as a family. I was still working on adjusting to seeing my clients virtually, taking my final final-exams for my therapy program, and contemplating what it would like when my Mom could begin moving here. I honestly thought that everyone was taking the pandemic seriously and it would last a month, maybe two if some people needed some convincing to stay isolated and stop the spread. Fast forward 131 days, I've received my associate license, began a private practice, traveled to Detroit for a crazy-scary super-invasive surgery for Mom that ultimately got the cancer out, and don't think twice about wiping everything down with a sanitazation wipe, getting tested weekly for COVID-19 (negative again yesterday), grabbing from our Corona-basket full of masks, gloves, face shields, and sanitizer every time I have to go somewhere (which is rarely) and have worn real pants maybe four times. Sometimes, the only time I exit my house gate is to move the car from one side of the street to the other to avoid a street-cleaning ticket. And there is no end in sight, it's like half way through a long-boring movie when you ask yourself, "does this even have an ending?" My baby starts fourth grade in just a few days; she'll learn from home watching her friends and beloved teacher from her device at the kitchen table while I work-from-home in the other room. I began, and stopped, and began again several times on trying to post about George Floyd's murder and the much-needed uprising that came afterward. I could just never find the words. I still can't. I have had to face my own privilege, superiority, and internal biases head on all while watching the man I love most in the world, who is also black, confront and process this trauma that's been with him his entire life. What a total mind-f@*k to try to be compassionate and empathize with someone trying to understand a system-of-pain that in many ways you, your ancestors, and people that look like you inflicted upon them in the first place. I have to do better, and I've made a promise to myself to do just that with a caveat that inaction perpetuates the problem so I can't be silent and allowing others to continue this infliction-of-pain by saying "All Lives Matter" or "I don't see color" or "my best friend is black" or "why does it have to be violent" or "why can't it be peaceful" or "I don't have a racist bone in my body" or "George Floyd was a really bad dude" or "Breonna wasn't really an EMT" or "Blue Lives Matter" or "Trump-Pence 2020" or "black on black crime is worse" or "why am I paying for the sins of my ancestors" or "I'm not really white anyway" and about 10,000 more statements that are actually re-victimizing black and brown people with every word, every post and we have to be better and do better. White people I am talking to you (and internally to myself). Let the black voices do the talking here and we have to work on listening, donating, supporting, and educating of ourselves without relying on the oppressed to teach us, the opressors. Whiteness is the problem and racism is the way it is presented. One of my favorite statements from a black woman and activist named Kimberly Jones (who is nominated for a NAACP Image Award, look her up if you haven't already) is "Y'all are lucky that we only want equality and not revenge." To those that are struggling, it's OK. To those that are thriving, that is good too. Each of us is doing the best we can. We have multiple pandemics occuring all at the same time, some global, some domestic, and some just in the four walls of our homes (if you haven't lost it yet). I keep hearing how people just want to get back to normal, but after this long is there any semblance of normal to even get back to? I know for me I am forever changed by these 151 days, and I'll continue to change. Even once there is a vaccine and we can go back to hugging and visiting and interacting in our older ways, this time will be logged for fundamental and deep rooted adjustments that were a long time in the making for me.

Friday, April 3, 2020

Still Here

This morning I woke at 6 am just as the sun was starting to rise. With everything that is happening in the world we've been staying up late and sleeping in so I laid in bed for awhile thinking I would fall back to sleep, but just couldn't. I've really needed a release as day 20 of shelter-in-place begins. It's hard to explain, but this new normal just isn't normal at all and I've been holding in so much trying to navigate it and be strong. I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I made a cup of coffee, sat down at the computer in the empty, quiet, and dimly lit house and decided that I really needed some sister time. It has been almost seven years since my best friend and older sister Crystal died. And in the years leading up to her passing, she wrote a blog similar to this one. I've looked at it from time to time, and usually could not get more than ten minutes in without completely losing it. But this morning, in this moment, I needed to hear from her. I started reading and kept going, and kept going after that, until I got all the way to the beginning. Her nearly four years of journaling was like hearing directly from her, in her own words. Often a photo would support a post and I closed my eyes to try to place myself there with her. Her love letter to her daughter, my niece Rilynn, on her ninth birthday made me realize that my own baby, the one she posted about coming to see and hold who was born one day before her thirtieth birthday, will be nine in one month! There was a post and a photo from her trip to Chicago with just her and I as we started navigating divorce together in the midst of her terrible cancer journey. I wept. And wept. She loved so hard. She fought so hard. She LIVED so hard. Once she heard that she would likely die, she traveled. To Costa Rica. And Hawaii. And Mexico. And St. Martin. And Miami. And California. She found new love. She cherished moments with her loved ones. As she would probably say, "I rallied." There were surprises too. She went and visited our paternal grandmother and her girls met their Great Grandma. I didn't know that happened; or if I did I must've forgotten again. On two of her trips to visit me in California she mentioned what she was doing while "I worked." Man, oh man. If I could go back in time, I would've quit every single one of those jobs to have a millisecond more with her. She flew to see me and I still went to work while she was there? She said things to describe the smell of the sea, her view from an airplane, the despair she felt as her body fought against her. For a moment, it was like she was still here. And it was magnificent! Life is chaotic right now. We are all doing the absolute best we can. My clinical work with clients is all virtual now, but it is a constant reminder to me that we are in this together. Each experience is unique and valid and important. I would encourage you all to spend even a few seconds this weekend finding some type of self-care, whether that be a trip back in time to "visit" with someone like I did, a Skype visit in the here and now with someone you've been missing, or start planning a trip for the future (while airfare and travel is so inexpensive). As I went to post this, a Facebook memory crawled to the top of my screen. Wouldn't you know, she was here all morning and I didn't even know it!

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

Operation Introspection

I think everyone would agree that it has been a strange couple of days as we begin 'social distancing' and navigate a new world (at least for awhile). I would ALMOST say this has been the oddest couple of my days of my entire life, but that would not be truthful. This moment makes me think back on some of the other times in my life when I was aware, in some way way back part of my mind, that this is one of those periods that has been tattooed into my brain where my grandchildren and great grandchildren might ask me "where were you when the world quieted down for a few weeks/months?" Can you imagine their faces when I tell them that their Mama used a 'website' called 'Zoom' to meet with her teacher and I used a 'video' conference room to meet with my clients 'virtually' while I stayed at home and played endless rounds of Clue and Scategories? I can already cue the questions, "what's a zoom? And what is video? And what in the heck is a board game?" Instead of hearing what we actually did here they'll be wrapped up in the terms of the "old days" and how primitive this all sounds. And we will laugh and giggle together, there will be some wonder and amazement in their eyes, and they might even roll their eyes to one another and talk about their crazy old grandpa and all of his nostalgia. It reminds me of my experience with 9/11. If I tried hard enough I could force myself to remember what I was wearing as I laid in my dorm room and watched the planes hit the twin towers, from a television the weight of elephant and called my room mate from a phone with a cord to please come back because I was so frightened to be alone. I could feel the rise and fall of my t-shirt as my whole body shook. My heart raced, fast. So fast. Was something coming right this very minute to crash into me? What am I actually seeing with my eyes? Will I survive? Will they? While I remember the feeling and emotion, do you know what my eight year old asks? Why didn't you just send a "I'm safe" sticker on Facebook? Um, honey, there was no Facebook. No social media at all, unless you count live journal. I mean, was there even Wifi then? And all of the stuff that came after is now just common practice.....no liquids through TSA (who didn't even exist beforehand), an endless war in the Middle East in countries I still could never identify on a globe, and the start of political polarization that forced everyone (online anyway) into whatever corner they would be defending until the death from that point forward since everything you believed would now be worn as a badge of honor on social media. In elementary school, I had a project to interview my parents about where they were when JFK was assassinated. We were supposed to draw it into picture form (which thinking of it now is kind of morbid) but I have a vague memory of not understanding how to draw a Cadillac convertible. Sure, my grandparents drove Cadillac's but my Mom said President Kennedy's was different. I was annoyed and wanted to see a photo, but then again there was no Internet, no google where I could just hit 'images' and I had to use my imagination. And we could keep going back and back and find endless examples. It's not just milestone memories either. 'Have you ever seen a person die Grandpa?' "Yep, and part of me died along with them in that moment." 'Have you ever seen a baby be born?' "Yes, I was in the room when your Mama was born and my heart exploded into a million pieces like a firework when I saw her for the first time." My point in saying all of this is to remind us all that I believe most of us are in a vulnerable and emotional space right now. We are aware of how scary and frightening this all is, and even if we put on a brave face and say things like 'it's not that big of a deal' or 'everything will be OK' part of us is aware of the emotional impact this virus is having on us. And it's not just emotional, my restaurant job has been suspended. Millions of workers are scared about how they'll survive financially in the coming weeks and months, especially if this keeps on going this way. Your feelings are valid and important. I have moments of pure terror and fear as well. But then I am quickly reminded that the 10-days of independent study, each round of a board game, each television show I let my daughter watch because I just need a minute and don't really care that she's watched ten hours of TV today, the stocked up fridge, the void streets, the constant media news cycle pumping us full of information, social media, and social distancing will not matter a decade from now. Not to us individually anyway. And somehow that gives me some peace to make mistakes, try to stay present, binge watch good TV shows, pray for doctors, nurses, and other leaders, drink good wine, play an extra round of cards with my kiddo, call my Mama more often, and cuddle with my spouse at night. We will get through this and when we tell the story of 2020 to our kids they'll simply want to know- where were you when COVID-19 changed the world for a blink?

Monday, December 9, 2019

JUXTAPOSITION

It's been a chaotic fall and early winter. I've been working seven days a week as I divide my time between the clinic and my restaurant job to pay the bills. Yesterday was the first weekend day off we've spent at home as a family since the school year started and it was extraordinary and extraordinarily boring at the same time. I normally work at the clinic all day on Saturdays and then at the restaurant all day on Sunday, but somehow got scheduled off just by coincidence. I had begun to forget how fun Sunday morning FaceTime calls with Mom could be, followed by a homemade breakfast, some errands and shopping, then onto a rainy afternoon spent cuddling with the pups on the couch and watching old movies (Harper picked Return to Oz), a nice homemade meal, and some complicated puzzle-doing to finish up the night. Watching life through Harper's eyes is inspiring and thought provoking. Christmastime has always been a mashup of sadness and joy for me and this year seems to be the same. 2019 has been one of the LONGEST and HARDEST years of my entire life. While there have been so many positive memories, there has been a lot of pain too. My Mom's cancer battle continues as she fights for her life after an excruciating surgery five weeks ago. So many of you have reached out to her and I, and I can actually feel the love and prayers that you are pouring out and into us. Watching anyone you love go through something this horrifying takes a toll on your mental health. I wish I could offer some encouragement or insight, but most days I feel pretty hollow right now if I am being honest and forthright with you...and more importantly myself. For so much of my life I've been able to fake it til I make it and carry on as if the weight of everything was not going to get me down. In a world of Instastories and our online social resume broadcasted for everyone to evaluate and weigh-in on, its hard to keep track of what is real and what is not. But for the past three to four months, I am trying (albeit sometimes still failing) to be more aware of what is happening WITHIN me and honor those feelings as they come up. Part of what is sustaining me is my work. I took a HUGE risk and left a high paying career to chase my dream of becoming a therapist. I was never known for taking risks before this, so I think most people were surprised when I just quit and went for it. The most surprised person was probably myself as I had developed this defense mechanism of thriving on meeting or exceeding other peoples expectations. Now I know what you're thinking at this point...yes, but he must have secret money or something that somehow gave him the ability to take the leap and I really don't. Full transparency alert: We completely cashed out my 401K to pay off remaining debt and make a down payment on tuition. Currently there is $87.65 in our checking account. There is no back up plan, no secret money, no savings whatsoever. "But I just saw photos of you in NYC sitting near the stage at Hamilton and y'all travel ALL OF THE TIME and live such an LUXURIOUS life!" -yeah, thank you credit cards for a high enough limit to swipe it and hope to pay it back someday in the future. The moral of the story is WE ALL HAVE SO MUCH CRAP and things are NOT what they always seem. I love pretending, but the truth can often be brutal. But when I am sitting one on one with someone in my therapy room and I can connect with them on the painful or challenging things that are occurring in their lives all of that risk and uncertainty I took is worth it. And I know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I feel electricity pulsating throughout my body. Even typing about it is giving me chills. If I have learned anything from the death via suicide of my father, loss of my sister to cancer, heartache and heart break, troubled family relationships, and now another cancer battle with Mom it's that you have to still search for those pricks of light even when everything seems dark and dismal. I have a tattoo across my chest that says 'faith' in my own handwriting and links to 'love' written over my ribs. When my sister got sick with cancer, the doctor said all you need is FAITH, LOVE, and HOPE so I got a third tattoo of the word 'hope' printed multiple times starting at my sternum and going straight down my stomach all the way to my pubic bone. The words match the scar left after her major surgery, and interestingly my Mom's recent surgery incision is almost identical. This has become a constant reminder to me every time I catch a glance of myself in the mirror that tomorrow is a new day, and after the storm comes a rainbow. As we began wrapping up our family day yesterday, a coworker sent me a text asking to switch shifts so I ended up having a second day in a row to myself: TODAY! I am currently curled up in my bed drinking a sweet cup of coffee with a book right next to me that I've been dying to read and am going to have a self-care day. I have no agenda, no plans whatsoever. And that feels really really good. Bring it on 2020, I am ready for you.

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

Back to Life, Back to Reality

It has been a whirlwind summer and today we all go back to our regular routines. Harper is now in her third week of third grade and tomorrow I begin the final Practicum Clinical part of my graduate school as a student therapist at a counseling center here in Hollywood! It's hard to think that in a few short days I'll be assigned my first clients with the honor (and also responsibility) of becoming their counselor. We had a very short summer as Harper's school got out in late June and went back in mid-August. We all took off for Reno, Nevada in the first week of August for our annual pilgrimage to the Lahontan Reservoir. This was my twelfth adult trip out to the lake and I couldn't help but reflect at all of the memories made on this tiny area of Northern Nevada. When you are out there and take a few minutes to breathe, you see a million stars and I become flooded with millions of thoughts too. I'll never forget the first trip when I was twenty-one and re-meeting the entire O'B family; I was filled with nerves so my sister Crystal and her daughters who were 3 months old and 2 years old came out for support. It became our tradition and in the years after, so many other important people in my life joined in on the fun. When Harper was three months old, her aunt was in a car accident on the way to the lake and I can remember being so frightened. The year Michael Jackson died we all screamed out in disbelief as the news came over the radio. Bocce ball, jet skis, tree swings, boating, tubing, and let's face it LOTS and LOTS of drinking too; it's hard to imagine a meaningful summer and not associate it with that trip. This year, those same girls who were three months and two years came out, except now they are fourteen and sixteen years old and the most vibrant, hilarious, witty, smart, kind, and truly beautiful young women. And while it's been six years that their Mom has been gone, they are so filled with her amazing spirit, zest for life, and man do they look (and sound) just like her too. We all returned to LA together and the girls (my nieces, Harper, and I) went on a Hollywood tour and spent a day at Six Flags before Mom arrived from Detroit. It had been many years since Mom got to see my nieces and she's been battling cancer since the beginning of the year. She's been focused on her recovery and being well enough to enjoy the trip, and man-oh-man did we ever enjoy our time with her. We all spent a day in Santa Monica followed by a long weekend in Palm Springs with friends and family before Harper started school. My poor baby was so exhausted by the 12-day-non-stop-extravaganza that she ended up missing the majority of her first week of school due to a gnarly virus. Grandma Kim (Harper's other grandma and my Mom's best friend of many years) joined us and they took care of their sick girl and Mom and I went to a taping of Will and Grace (sooo fun) and the following night Sabin took her to a movie premiere with Jamie Foxx, Michael B. Jordan, and Bree Larsen! She really got the full Hollywood experience and it was so awesome to see her feeling better and kicking cancer's ass. This was my first birthday celebrated with my Mommy since I turned 17, and it was so sweet and awesome to have everyone together. We played lots of card games, had tons of laughs, and I am still in awe of her fighting and determined spirit. Mom left and a two days later my friend Kellie and her family arrived from New Jersey. Another Hollywood tour day followed by another amazing weekend in Palm Springs (can I just move there already?) happened this weekend, sitting pool side and enjoying the company and presence of those I love so deeply. My mantra this summer has been "BE HERE NOW" and I even had it printed on a piece of art in my living room for a frequent reminder. Next month we've planned a trip to the Poconos to celebrate another great friend and in February I am reuniting with my crew from college after many years of distance and life simply happening. A few lessons I've learned this summer: 1) Sometimes BEING HERE NOW isn't very fun, but it's still important. 2) Try to breathe a few deep breaths and appreciate what is in front of you right now. 3) I am human, I will make mistakes. 4) Mental health is important. Don't skip sessions with your therapist in months filled with so much stuff. 5) Take a few seconds to be GRATEFUL for what you do have. 6) Take a few seconds to be MINDFUL and set INTENTION for what you need. 7) Tell people how much they mean to you and how much you love them. 8) "If you can't love yourself, how the hell you gonna love someone else?"-RuPaul. Onward to regular life, meal prep, working, and getting stuff done.

Thursday, July 4, 2019

Half Way Done

It's hard to believe that we are just now at the half-way mark of the year 2019. This has been one of the longest and most challenging years I've faced as an adult and somehow I am holding onto a small piece of optimism for the second half. I am learning (literally and figuratively) so much about human behavior and why and how we act and behave certain ways. Why is it that in crisis and stressful events so many people lose their minds? Turns out there is a biological and physiological explanation. Even when armed with the scientific understanding, it still doesn't help much in regular every day life. Especially when some people thrive in chaos and truly don't want or are incapable of getting and keeping help. Somehow when someone you love deeply is presented with a terminal illness, everything else seems so minor and trivial. I've begun focusing on putting my attention where it counts and attempting to be more present in the moment and not allow these distractions to, well...distract...me. So much of my past was based on gut-reactions and internalizing and evaluating every single thing placed at my feet. I am a "fixer" and "peace maker" and "decision maker" and someone people looked to for answers and direction. I'll still be those things because they make up who I am but with the pressure of being a full time student, worker, dad, husband, and the list just goes on and on, I honestly don't have the time or mental capability to balance it all so I just take each day as it comes and keep my focus on the relationships that are reciprocal. I love Brene Brown (seriously watch her Netflix special TODAY if you haven't already), and I remember her in a podcast several years ago talking about the gas-fillers and the gas-takers. We all need people who refill our emotional and spiritual tanks and whom you do the same for. Gone are the days for me where I give and give with nothing in return and feel depleted...I'll allow my future clients to pay me for that energy, thank you very much! Speaking of future clients, I was selected to begin my work with real clients in September at a community clinic in North Hollywood! I digressed, but in my regular non-therapist work, I want to laugh a lot. I want to have real-authentic conversations and look you in the eye, preferably over a glass of nice wine. I want to play Nintendo into the wee hours of the morning with my husband as we jam out to Katy Perry or Kirk Franklin or whomever. I want to reply to sweet and thoughtful text messages to a mother-in-law that I never dreamt would even message me to begin with. I want to send funny mi-mojis to my niece and remind her how much she is loved. I want to swim in pools with friends, drag my feet in the sand, barbecue on the back patio, wake board at lake, sleep under the stars. I want to have picnics in the park with my daughter and dogs and watch her read her Hamilton books with so much joy and wonder. And for the first time in a long time, I am going to do just that. Here's to Act II of 2019, bring it on!