Party Time!

Every month local Twitter folks try to meet up somewhere for an evening of eating, drinking, and laughs.  I will say that these people mean a lot to me, because they form my base of friends since I moved to Salem a little over a year ago. I am blessed to know every one of them, and many of them have drastically changed my life for the better. 

It also happens to be my 40th birthday coming up very quickly. I rarely pay attention to which year I'm at, but since so much has happened to me in the last year or so, I feel like this is significant for me.

Soooo, because the holidays and this important birthday coincide for me somewhat, I am offering up my home for a combination tweetup and birthday party on Friday, December 10th. Of course all my Twitter friends (both local and further away, if they are willing to join us) are invited, but I am also opening up the party to others that I know that aren't on Twitter, as well as guests of invitees. This is a little different only because tweetups are usually limited (just by design not to be exclusionary) to Twitter folk.

Anyway, this one is for everyone I call a friend. I will provide snacks, including Cincinnati-style chili, and mixers. I just ask you to bring your favorite drink, which could include beer, wine, or infused liquor (!).  I will have non-alcoholic beverages available, although if you have something special you prefer, you might want to ask ahead or bring it. Most importantly, bring yourselves!

Follow this link to an evite invitation, and contact me through DM or email to get directions.  I really hope to see some new faces at this party, if anyone that hasn't attended is interested/willing to come by. We'll start around 7 and go until the last person passes out or leaves.

Please note, I've never used evite before, so I'm not sure how to add people whose email addresses I didn't have.  Any help is appreciated. If you just want to leave a comment or DM me, that'll work as well.

Just who do I think I am?

Sometimes, I wonder how I could possibly still be trying to figure out just who I am and where I fit in at my age.  I mean, shouldn't I know myself pretty well at almost 40? What kind of person doesn't get things figured out by mid-life?

Well, whatever kind of person I am, I suppose. Perhaps I'm just way too analytical for my own good. In a way, I think I want to put a label on myself, against my own better judgment. For as long as I can remember, I have felt like somewhat of a blacksheep. When I was a kid, I was intensely shy and wasn't good at making new friends. When I met someone I got along with, I tended to hang onto them as long as I could because that was easier than making new friends.  What usually ensued was that, eventually, I would find myself hanging out with people I had little in common with. I would try desperately to fit into the group for awhile, until it became overtly obvious I was not one of them.

I usually feel like I am at the fringes of any group of people I end up aligning myself with, and sometimes that bothers me a little bit. The up side is that I tend to fall on the fringes of many groups, which broadens my exposure to people with a variety of backgrounds. If I associated it with a statistical concept (and of course I do, because I'm that kind of nerd), I would be a point that doesn't fit well into any cluster. I'm kinda out there on my own. Which isn't such a bad thing, now that I think about it. I mean, I am not easily labeled, and that's a good thing, right? If that means that people have to spend more time to get to know me, then all the better. Hopefully the effort turns out to be worth it in the end.

The  point is, I find myself about to turn 40 and still kind of evolving, still not fully knowing who I am. And although it causes me distress at times, when I just want to fit in somewhere and know where that is, I am coming to peace with the situation. The idea of always changing as I age and my experience pool expands is actually very comforting. It means I am not really supposed to have things figured out because that's half the fun of life.

Going through this also makes me realize that everyone else likely goes through what I'm going through, to varying degrees. That is also a comforting thought, because I think we often feel alone in our struggles, failing to recognize they are more universal than they seem.

Do Not Read This

If you are averse to political discussion, do not read this. If you are sensitive the expression of strong opinions, do not read this. If you are looking for a fight to pick, do not read this.

Now that you have been forewarned, let me just give a little background to this post. Last night on Twitter, someone accused me of being ignorant because I said people that didn't vote the way I voted were stupid.  First of all, I did not say this. What I said was that people that voted a certain way were being short-sighted, small-minded, and selfish. I stand by this statement, but the argument that ensued was completely pointless as it evolved into name calling by the other party (who voted the same way as I did, for the record). This is when I had to exit the discussion, although it affected me deeply, and made me think about it all night long.

I am of the belief that online debates are ridiculous. I think rational discussion can quickly turn ugly online because it is too easy to say things one would never say face-to-face. Hiding behind an online persona somehow brings out the worst in people. People are often very unlike their online personality in person. So here are a couple rules of thumb: 1) If you don't have the balls to say something rude to my face, STFU.  2) If you don't know me at all and start making assumptions about me and calling me names, STFU.  That said, I am guilty of letting myself be drawn into such discussions frequently. I should know better.

The whole discussion over my opinions really came to a head because I said that people who vote Republican tend to be selfish and short-sighted and care only about themselves and preserving their own power.  I still stand by these statements, and I won't apologize for my opinions. I said this because I believe if I were to vote solely based on how a candidate's policies would affect me personally, I would probably vote Republican. I have great health insurance, and my husband and I have great jobs and good job security. It's highly probable that we will end up paying higher taxes in the future to support current policies. I am not gay, and I have no kids, and so I am not directly affected by quality of education.

However, I don't not think this way. I believe Americans have a right to health care. I believe we have a moral obligation to help the less fortunate.  I believe in equal rights and equal treatment for everyone.  I am willing to pay taxes to support all of the services I receive through local and state government, even if this means I have to pay higher taxes personally. I believe in the value of personal sacrifice to support the greater good. If I were a lower animal that only responded in a way that propagated my own genes and only cared about myself, none of these tbeliefs would hold true. But as humans, we have the ability to think beyond our own immediate needs and wants to those of future generations and others unrelated to ourselves. I, for one, would like to get to the end of my life knowing I did something that made a positive impact on other people, even if it meant sacrificing my own desires. I know I am not alone in this.

Life after the first year

I'm thinking over my first year in Salem, Oregon, which is my first year in the Pacific Northwest and my first year in the West, period.  A lot has changed over the last 12 months, and I am just finally starting to feel at home again.

We arrived in Salem on October 21, 2009.  I was really sad about leaving everything and everyone I knew behind. It all felt so final. To make matters worse, I spent the first 3 months in Salem working from home at my job in Cincinnati. This just perpetuated the feelings of loss for me. I didn't really meet many people, stuck at home all day. I joined the roller derby league so I could meet people, and I did, but I didn't form many real, lasting friendships. I actually believe that part of that was my fault because I wasn't ready to accept my new home yet.

I really stagnated for a long time, and what finally changed things for me was Twitter. I know to some that sounds ridiculous, but Salem has a relatively small community on Twitter, and as they started getting together more frequently, I met some really great people, many of whom I am happy to call friends now.  Most of my social activities now tend to be with these people, and that social interaction has completely changed my life and my outlook.  Through those people and certain others I met through roller derby, I am meeting other people, and I finally feel like I am a part of this small city. I am slowly building connections to people in Portland as well, though it's harder to socialize with people 50 miles away. I keep trying, because I feel some kinship with these folks as well, even if they are a very different crowd than those in Salem.

If you had asked me a year ago if I could ever feel so at home here, I would have said there was no hope. It seemed impossible at the time, but I have come full circle. I am so thankful for all the people now in my life, those in person and those that I currently only know online. They have made all the difference in the world for me in my transition to this new chapter in my life.

I still miss and love my friends in Cincinnati, but I am finally in a place where I can really appreciate both old and new people in my life and be truly happy about it.

The optimistic cynic

If someone asks me if I am cynical, I tend to immediately answer in the affirmative.  After all, I work for the government, which means that no matter how apolitical I might feel my job is or should be, it still is.  I also say that I expect the worst, so that I won't be disappointed when things go badly and I'll be happily surprised when they go well.

I think this might not quite be accurate in terms of my relationships with other people.  It's true that I never assume people like me just because I like them.  I guess it just seems easier that way, although my feelings still get hurt when I find that I am right.  However, no matter how cynical I am, I still tend to give a person multiple chances, even when I feel they have wronged me in some way.  I suppose I believe that THIS time, things will be different.  Eventually, even I give up on someone.  However, if they show any remorse for their actions, I almost always forgive and am willing to try to be friends again. 

This attitude doesn't seem to apply only to friends but to strangers as well.  For example, even though my gut may tell me that the person panhandling is in their situation through their own shortcomings, I want to believe that there is hope for them.  I want to believe that they are sincere when the homeless man at the park asks me how I am and seems friendly to me.  I want to believe that if I treat others with respect, they will return the favor.  It doesn't always happen that way, but hopefully more often than not.

So I think that although I AM a cynic in many respects (which I tend to think of as being a realist), I am an optimistic one.

Does anyone else think this way?

Joy in the little things...literally!

It recently came up in conversation that I am a zoologist by training.  It got me thinking about the happiest times of my career in the environmental field over the last 12 years.  But first a brief bit of background to put it into context.

I started out getting a B.S. in Zoology at Ohio State University, and I was what my advisor referred to as a "fuzzy lover", someone who really gets into the field because of large, charismatic mammals.  It was true, and for most of my undergrad, I remained this way.  It was only when I changed advisors before my senior year that my perspective changed, with a job working for my advisor.  It was then that I was exposed to plankton, and later, stream ecology, two fields that changed my life.  I went back to school after two years to pursue my master's degree in zoology, still at Ohio State.  I became fascinated with the tiny world of algae and zooplankton, teaching at the Ohio State field station on an island in Lake Erie. At this same time, I taught a class that sampled lots of mainland streams, and gained a new appreciation of the tiny occupants that live under and around rocks in these systems.

While pursuing my M.S. in Zoology, I decided to pursue a Master of Applied Statistics because I was always good at math, and it seemed logical. I know this is really what got me my job at the EPA, first as a contractor and later as a federal employee, where I continue today.  I love what I do, and I think it suits me perfectly, providing me with a challenge and feeding me a sense of deep purpose in what I do. However, some of the happiest times at my job are far away from my desk and computer.

At various times over my career, I have been involved in outreach to urban kids with little experience in nature. Usually these were summer programs, for which a group of us would sample a stream and bring rocks and critters to a group of kids that had little experience in real streams. There is nothing like the looks I saw on the faces of kids when they realized that the "nasty bugs" were actually fascinating and harmless creatures.  It was the same when I taught classes at Lake Erie, as many of the students were high school kids that hadn't really been exposed to aquatic insects or plankton before firsthand. 

All this said, I miss those activities. There don't seem to be those sorts of activities where I work now. So here's the deal.  I love this stuff.  I would take off work to do it in a heartbeat.  So if you are a teacher, or you have kids that need someone to do this sort of thing with their class or just for fun, no matter the age range, I am your person.  This is one of those things that brings me great joy, and there is no replacement for it. So keep me in mind when you look at a stream and wonder what's living in there, under the rocks.

Lesson #5 from my dog

I realized this morning that it has taken me awhile to pick up on the lesson our dog taught us as soon as we adopted her from the family that raised her from a puppy for 3 years.  You'd think that it would have been traumatic for her to suddenly move from a loving home to a new home at that age, but she took it all in stride and surprised all of us.  I think what it boils down to is that, no matter how much the other family loved her, it wasn't enough to keep her as part of their family.  I always assumed it was just because Grace's loyalty is to anyone that feeds her. While this may be true in part, I still give her credit for embracing us as her new family so quickly and completely. 

For me, this translates to learning to completely embrace that community of people that care about me and understand me.  At the same time, I am learning to let go of the people that were in my life that do not care enough about me to keep me around in their lives.  It's a lesson in moving on.  That doesn't mean forgetting or letting go of the friends I have in other places. It just means that when I find myself among people that don't seem to understand me anymore, that we part ways. 

As my dog has shown me, it does not have to lead to sadness.  She is a very happy dog that embraces what she does have at all times.  We are always a work in progress, and that means that we should expect that sometimes, we will move beyond the people that we used to call friends.

I could learn a lot from my dog

Most of the time when I think about my dog, Grace, a large lab/Great Pyrenees mix, I would not think she could teach me much. For one thing, she's kind of a dope, cute but not very bright.  However, I can now see many personality traits in her that I would do well to adopt.  These are a few of the things I have learned:

1) Be adventurous in eating.  Based on the disgusting eating habits of my dog, you would not expect I would want to take any cues from her. The part that I can draw from is her willingness to try new things, almost anything, in fact, and then decide if it's good or not.  In my own life, I could stand to be a little more open to new foods than I sometimes am.  This, I have already started to change.

2) Live in the moment.  Grace doesn't worry about what happened 10 minutes ago, and she never fears the future.  She fully embraces the right now.  Sometimes, this means she gets an impulse to dig a hole, so she does it, and is remorseful about it later.  I think I could definitely use a lot more spontaneity in my life and a lot less regret and worry.

3) Meet new people with an open mind.  To Grace, every person and dog is a potential friend. She never hesitates to walk right up to any person or animal and greet them with curiosity and friendliness. I am sometimes jealous of her total lack of social awkwardness, but the more I watch her, the more it inspires me to follow her lead.

4) Embrace playtime.  Grace often finds a toy and starts racing around the house with it all by herself. She plays with joyful abandon and loves it when others join in. She even tries to get the cats to play, and it almost works sometimes. The most important part is that she is having fun, and who couldn't use a little more fun in their life?

A new choice

I've been struggling for some time over how I fit into our roller derby league in Salem (Cherry City Derby Girls).  I started out last November not knowing how to skate.  Over several months, I learned to skate pretty well, and I tested up to level 2 in May.  If I were to pursue testing to level 3 and pass, I would be eligible to be drafted onto a team. 

I started off very gung ho in level 2, but things went awry early in the summer.  My best derby buddies stopped coming to practice, and one of them left the league altogether.  Attendance at practices became sparse, and it was hard to be motivated to show up when I might be the only one there.  I found out in June that I had skin cancer on my scalp that would require surgical removal.  During the healing process, I was not able to wear a helmet, so I was off skates for 2 weeks.  Then I got two ribs knocked out of place at a derby promotional event in July, and I did not get that completely fixed for a month.  That entire time I was not skating, though I was still riding my bike and doing other activities.  Eventually, I started Crossfit as an alternate workout, and I quickly became hooked on the way it seemed to help the shoulder issues created by my misaligned ribs. 

I never really went back to skating after that. I tried to be a rec skater, but it was primarily for a workout, which I didn't really achieve in that case.  So I just stopped going.  I felt bad.  I felt like I was betraying the league by even considering leaving, but I really felt like a second-class member if I wasn't skating.

Last week, I finally came to the realization that I could actually be a very important and much-needed league member by serving as a ref or an NSO (non-skating official).  Hearing that a couple of other people I know have decided the same because they, like me, cannot commit the time required to join a team.

Tonight is my first night at practice as an official instead of a skater.  I'm nervous but excited, and I hope this ends up being the place I was meant to be in the league.

What have I done?

Today I lost the second friend in a week, and I am totally to blame.  I have fucked up in a big way, and ruined two friendships, one of which I cared very deeply about.  I am devastated.  I don't think he will ever forgive me for my behavior, and I owe him so much I don't know what to do.  I became to difficult to deal with, and I can't really be angry at him, even though it would be much easier to hate him.  I have gotten through the first failure with bitterness and anger, and that clearly made things worse for me.

I wish I could go back in time and change things, but it's far too late for that.  I can't imagine moving forward at this point.  I think I just need to cry for awhile, and that's what I plan to do. 

Here I thought I'd made so much progress, but I see that I hadn't at all.

I am an addict, baby

Addiction seems to run in my family.  In one of my brothers, it took the form of a teenage alcoholic who was forced to recover or die by the time he was 25.  Sometimes I believe it takes the form of worrying in my mother.  I won't even mention what it is for my dad, because I try not to think of him as a dirty old man. ;)

For me, it has taken many forms, though never alcohol.  I believe I was too scarred by my brother at a young age with the damage he did to our family to really go in that direction. I am very conscious of it even now, in fact, because I am aware of that nature in myself and how easily I could end up there.  Currently, I believe I am addicted to the endorphins I get from exercise.  I have found, especially lately, that the rush I get from doing Crossfit, strenuous hiking, biking, or (hopefully soon) skating is what gets me through the day.  When I don't get much exercise for a number of days, I can feel it in mood changes and an anxious feeling I get in the pit of my stomach.  This feeling only seems to be relieved by intense exercise.

This whole addiction idea is a little difficult for me to understand in myself in particular because I also have tendencies of being non-committal.  I never get REALLY into anything fully and completely.  I think I don't have the attention span to become completely fascinated with any one activity.  I guess this is why I really didn't flourish with roller derby as the only activity in my life.  I felt like it required too much commitment, and in reality, I think I prefer to spread myself a little more across many interests.  So for now, I will continue to feed my addiction through as many outlets as possible and be satisfied that at least this particular addiction should add to my lifespan rather than detract from it.

Options and Priorities

There's a saying that goes something like this: Don't make someone a priority if they only make you an option.  It's great advice. Don't spend a lot of effort on someone that treats you as if they don't really care about you.  That should be reserved for those that truly care about you and that you truly care about.

The problem for me is that I am not always sure which people are which in my life.  Sometimes, I misinterpret someone's busy schedule or personal issues as them not caring about me.  By the same token, at times, I am sure I do not treat everyone that I care about in a manner that shows that.  By nature, I prefer directness from others.  I would prefer if we had some sort of sign on our forehead that indicated who is truly a friend and who could give a rat's ass about you...and even just those who like you but really wouldn't miss you if you were gone. 

As it is, I have a very difficult time separating my own feelings of inadequacy (which, let's face it, we all have on some level) from a genuine lack of interest by another party.  And though I say I prefer directness, I am often fearful of directly confronting a person because if I am wrong, then I inadvertantly offend someone that I care about.  So for now, I carry on and just wonder about some people.  Perhaps I will work up the courage at some point to confront those that leave me wondering.  Or perhaps that alone should tell me something.  Either way, it's a constant struggle for me.

It all adds up...

Whenever I think about past decisions that turned out to be poor choices, or the events of my past that have scarred me in some way, my tendency is to wish I could change the course of events.  I think to myself that I would have done things differently, made different choices, followed a different path, and I would somehow be better off today.  It's often difficult for me to view those experiences except in a negative light.

The thing is, everyone has those experiences that may have been the result of trauma, poor choices, or just plain unlucky coincidence.  Every individual is the sum of all of their experiences, good and bad.  I seem to have no trouble embracing the past of other people, and I can be boundlessly empathetic toward others.  When it comes to my own past, though, now that's when I tend to be judgmental. 

What I am trying to learn to apply to my own life now is to be as forgiving to myself as I tend to be toward others.  Because it's not just me that I hurt when I am hard on myself.  I am also not giving other people enough credit when I assume they don't accept me as the sum of my experiences the way I accept them.  I like who I am today, even though I am far from perfect. And ya know what? Those imperfections in my friends are what endear them to me the most. I have to hope it's a mutual arrangement. :)

Nicknames

I have never been a person that uses nicknames for people.  I can't think of one person that I use a nickname for, young or old, or ever have. Okay, except for my father-in-law, who goes by Bob even though his name is Charles. No one can explain that one to me.

The thing is, every pet I have had over the last 13 years has wound up with numerous nicknames, some cutesy, mostly unexplainable as to origin.  And the thing is, they typically actually know and respond to all their nicknames. 

 Our dog Vegas, that we had for 12 years, was the first to have a series of nicknames.  She somehow became Pooh Bear, Pooh, Booh, Poobaloo, and Veggie, among others I can't recall now.  We have a cat, Cirrus, who has the fewest names...mostly C, and P (complicated explanation for that one).  Fee, our other cat, has and responds to Bee, Busy Bee, Feasel B, Feasie Bee, Fizz...you get the idea.  Our new dog, Grace, has started to acquire nicknames quickly...G, Gracie, Gracie Mae, and my favorite, Grace-a-saurus. 

I have thinking about this lately and trying to decide how unusual we are.  We talk to the pets a lot, not like crazy people that think they will respond or that they even really understand us.  I think we do it (maybe me more than the husband, I'll admit) because they respond to us based on our tone, and they learn what different tones mean to them by us talking to them a lot.  Maybe that's crazy talk, or maybe that's dog whisperer talk.  Either way, I'm certain I will not stop doing it anytime soon, so think what you want about it.

Concentric Circles

My therapist recently told me to think of my relationships with other people in terms of concentric circles.  I really liked this concept, and I have been thinking a lot about it, so I wanted to share it.

Here's basically how it works.  At the very center, I have my "inner circle", those people that know me the best and that I share more with than anyone else.  They are the ones I turn to in times of great joy or distress, and they are my primary support network.  They know and accept my faults, and I theirs.  The next ring includes those people that I care about but just don't share as much with.  They might be people that I am close to, but only in one context.  They may also be part of my support network, but to a lesser degree.  The third circle consists of people that are more like passing acquaintances. We might be friendly and say hi regularly, but we don't really share the details of our lives with one another.  Beyond that are people that we may see regularly but really have little or no interaction with.

I've been thinking lately about where various people in my life fall within those concentric circles.  It may surprise some to find out that most of my family is not, in fact, part of my inner circle.  I share very little with any of them except one sister-in-law.  In fact, I consider my inner circle to be quite small, only about 6 people that I can think of, all of them very far away from here.  The next ring includes a large number of people, including a couple of old college friends, many former co-workers, some fellow derby girls, and yes, some Twitter folks.  Beyond that circle are many of the people I follow and interact with on Twitter, and a subset of friends on Facebook.

When considering where different people fell within these circles, I had this notion that certain people should fall within a certain circle.  The point was made that there is no right or wrong place to "put" people, and in fact, different people may move from one circle to another and back again depending on the circumstances.  In many ways, we don't choose who ends up where.  It just happens.  And just because someone is in our inner circle, for example, it doesn't mean we are in theirs.  Just like the idea that you may not be the person that your best friend considers their best friend.

This thought can certainly muddy the waters a bit, but I still think it's a very useful perspective on relationships and the amount of energy one should expend on worrying over a given relationship.  This means that the ones closer to the middle are worthy of more energy and effort than the ones that fall in the outer circles.  I think this is basically another way of saying that we should give more thought and care to the relationships with those that mean the most to us.  Which is why it's ironic to me that I am often kinder to total strangers than I am to my closest friends or my spouse.  I think this occurs subconsciously and it happens because I believe those closest to me will forgive me my failures, whereas strangers often won't.  Strange logic, but our minds are often a mystery, even to ourselves.

Have you thought about where the people in your life fall using this approach?  Does it help you to keep relationships in perspective?

My Mid-life Whatever

About two years ago, what I have been referring to as my mid-life crisis began.  At right about that time, my whole world and future changed radically.  The trigger was our decision for my husband to accept a job in Salem, Oregon, which meant we would be moving across the country from our home in Cincinnati, Ohio, far away from everyone and everything we knew up to that point. 

When we made the decision, we were feeling a little disconnected from the community in which we lived, we were both dissatisfied with our jobs, and we knew that we had always wanted to move west.  In addition, we knew that a major chapter in our relationship would be ending as we awaited the inevitable death of our dog from cancer she'd been fighting for a year already. 

The agreement was that my husband would begin working for this company to help them open a plant in southern Kentucky, 2-1/2 hrs from home, and eventually we would make the transition to Oregon when we were ready.  This meant I would be alone 4 days a week every week, while my husband stayed in an apartment near his job, coming home on weekends.  So during this time, we had to prepare our house for sale in a shaky market and watch our dog die, and I had to decide what I was going to do for a job when we moved. 

I think all of that spurred me, a basically introverted person that shared my deepest feelings with very few people, even in times of great need, to change into someone that was unrecognizable.  Knowing I was leaving, I began to try to cultivate relationships more earnestly than I had before, and at the same time, I began to take risks and move outside my comfort zone in a way I never had.  I went from someone that hid my innermost feelings from almost everyone, sometimes even my husband, to someone that was more open and honest about my feelings than some wanted me to be.

I felt lost, and that's why I always referred to it as my mid-life crisis.  However, as I look back on that period, that is starting to become a memory, I realize that it might have been a mid-life re-discovery, rather than a crisis.  I opened myself to a lot of new things, but I also spent a lot of time trying to be what I thought other people wanted me to be or what I thought other people would like.  So in some ways, this was a good experience, because it forced self-examination on me, and I moved outside of my own box of what I was supposed to be to evaluate all my assumptions and beliefs about myself and others.  On the other hand, sometimes my self-examination led to a wholly self-centered attitude, in which I neglected those close to me in my efforts to be someone different. 

As the time to move grew near, I didn't want to leave Cincinnati. Even after we moved, I clung to new and old friendships and my memories of my home there desperately. Only very recently have I started to accept my new home and appreciate it.  The people in Salem are wonderful, and this is really a great place to live.  On the whole, I am actually very happy living here, and I am glad we had the courage to make such a change.

I am not sure I am entirely through this mid-life process yet, but I am on the tail end of it at least, and I have learned a lot about myself from it.  I now know that there is no peace in trying to be something I am not in my heart.  My true nature has to be allowed to come through, and I have to realize that the rest will fall into place, regardless of where I live.  There will always be some people that accept and understand me for who I really am, as well as those don't.  The former are the ones that matter to me.