I am thankful I was selected to join the Peace Corps.
I am thankful I was sent to Bulgaria.
I am thankful I have a family that lets me do crazy things like move to Bulgaria.
I am thankful I was placed in Krichim for my training.
I am thankful that my time there introduced me to a family I would never have known otherwise, but now consider very much my own.
I am thankful I was placed with four other volunteers who have become an extension of that non-biological family.
I am thankful that I had a summer that really and profoundly showed me what I am made of.
I am thankful the summer is over.
I am thankful I have a counterpart who considers me a friend.
I am thankful I am able to learn Bulgarian.
I am thankful to have a lot of work. Useful work. Even if it isn't always my *real* job...
I am thankful that I know how to work my oven now.
I am thankful my mom brought me really warm socks from the states. (Man, is it COLD.)
I am thankful that I have internet in my apartment so I can communicate with my families in the states (the Grudzinas, the Buttresses, old old friends...)
But most of all, this Thanksgiving I am thankful that I get to be thankful with other Americans in this far off land...Other Americans who I would be lost here without.
God bless, and Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
My First Bulgarian Snowfall!
Ah, the first snowfall. It's not in town, but it sure made the hills to the north purty! I took a walk bright and early this morning to grab some photos lest it all melt, but it didn't. Actually, that walk was the only time outside of my apartment I had today...The rest of the day included Bulgarian homework, letter-writing and tons of baking. Tomorrow I will introduce my colleagues to The American Brownie made from scratch with genuine Hershey's Cocoa! They won't know what hit them....
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Desert Places
For some reason, the first weeks of winter (true, pure winter) always bring to my mind the works of Robert Frost. Most of the year I think him trite, but for the first few weeks of winter I find he is the poet who best verbalizes what I see in the world.
Winters in my homestate of Delaware were never very Robert Frost-like. Sure it was cold and we sometimes got snow, but there was never the really opressive blankness and loneliness that is part of Frost. The glory of a Delaware winter is a good early-morning frost on the reeds in the swamp or the town Christmas lights being lit on your way home from a late day at the office.
I was first introduced to Frost winters when I was in college in central Pennsylvania. We were in the rolling hills just south of the Allegheney Mountains, surrounded by patches of woods and fields that generally had snow in them all winter. Late at night, driving to and from the small town where school was, I was always struck by the emptiness of it all, by the tiredness of it all. There were no street lights, so the moon just bounced off the patches of snow and gave a sad brightness to everything. I always found myself going over Frost poetry on those rides.
Today I was reminded of my old winter friend once again, although this time the woods were on the Balkan Mountains and the empty fields were on the Thracian Plain. This afternoon I went shopping in Sliven and met the new volunteer there (who, by the by, is from DELAWARE!). The whole day had been rainy and gray, but when I got off the bus the rain had turned to wet snow and a terrible, bitter wind was raging down from the mountains. It was almost hard to walk for the wind, and it was incredibly cold. As the sun went down the snow and wind were replaced by the same kind of chill-to-the-bone dampness I had grown so accustomed to in Pennsylvania. And as the bus headed across the plain to Straldja, I watched the rocky, now-snow-covered mountains give way to smaller, wooded hills, and again thought to myself:
Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it -- it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less --
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars -- on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Of course this winter for me, more than any before it, will truly live up to the lines of this poem. I was profoundly alone this summer, and slowly I am coming to love the loneliness. This winter cannot scare me...I have seen my own desert places, and now I know they are beautiful.
Winters in my homestate of Delaware were never very Robert Frost-like. Sure it was cold and we sometimes got snow, but there was never the really opressive blankness and loneliness that is part of Frost. The glory of a Delaware winter is a good early-morning frost on the reeds in the swamp or the town Christmas lights being lit on your way home from a late day at the office.
I was first introduced to Frost winters when I was in college in central Pennsylvania. We were in the rolling hills just south of the Allegheney Mountains, surrounded by patches of woods and fields that generally had snow in them all winter. Late at night, driving to and from the small town where school was, I was always struck by the emptiness of it all, by the tiredness of it all. There were no street lights, so the moon just bounced off the patches of snow and gave a sad brightness to everything. I always found myself going over Frost poetry on those rides.
Today I was reminded of my old winter friend once again, although this time the woods were on the Balkan Mountains and the empty fields were on the Thracian Plain. This afternoon I went shopping in Sliven and met the new volunteer there (who, by the by, is from DELAWARE!). The whole day had been rainy and gray, but when I got off the bus the rain had turned to wet snow and a terrible, bitter wind was raging down from the mountains. It was almost hard to walk for the wind, and it was incredibly cold. As the sun went down the snow and wind were replaced by the same kind of chill-to-the-bone dampness I had grown so accustomed to in Pennsylvania. And as the bus headed across the plain to Straldja, I watched the rocky, now-snow-covered mountains give way to smaller, wooded hills, and again thought to myself:
Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it -- it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less --
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars -- on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
Of course this winter for me, more than any before it, will truly live up to the lines of this poem. I was profoundly alone this summer, and slowly I am coming to love the loneliness. This winter cannot scare me...I have seen my own desert places, and now I know they are beautiful.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
The state of relationships
I had not been in the house for an hour yet when Atidje aked me, with all sincerity from across the kitchen table, "Imash li gadje?" (Do you have a boyfriend?)
This is a question I get every time I come "home" to Krichim, but it is never usually brought up so soon.
Ati and Oktai pretty much know the state of romantic relationships in my life. They know there is a severe lack of young and single males in my town. They know I still have issues with the language and am pretty much the opposite of a flirtatious and outgoing individual anyway, even if I could communicate easily.
But this has not stopped the questioning, and therefore the jokes.
On one of my first trips home they asked me if I had any friends in Straldja. I mentioned that I had befriended one baba (grandmother) named Baba Radka and she gave me cucumbers from her garden.
I am, perhaps, too naive at times. After only a few minutes Baba Radka had turned into Hot-Young-Man Radko and he had given me cucumbers of an entirely different sort...
So that was the first joke. And it's stuck. Since then others have come up, including the fact that I they say I am dating Sudku (a Krichim friend of mine who is a reminant of my early days there when Ozhgun rounded up as many people who spoke English as possible to come meet us). I suppose of all the scenerios this is the most probable, as they know him and know we hang out, but they also know he has a girlfriend in Plovdiv...Apparently in Bulgaria, however, that doesn't REALLY matter.
But this trip home, the subject of my love life was even more scrutinized than usual. Every hour some joke was cracked or some remark was made. When I left with Maegen, they told us not to come back until we have boyfriends. Sheesh...It's a joke, but man, that's harsh.
I am not the only one, however. Vtora Andy (Second Andy...not the Andy from my group but the Andy from the more recent group) was there and took the same heat. Maegen took it, I know other volunteers take it.
I find this a very fascinating feature of Bulgarian culture, this obsession with joking about relationships, and I usually find it amusing too. In the states we do the same thing, but it is only amongst people you are close with...Mothers are always trying to fix up their daughters and encouraging their sons to settle down and supply them with grandchildren. But it is not something generally brought up amongst strangers in public places...Though here, every train trip I take I inevitably wind up in a compartment with some baba who inevitably has a grandson just my age who doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, is very nice, has a good job and is very attractive. They all find it very strange I am 23, single, living alone in a far-off land, and seem to be okay with this.
So, that is the state of relationships in my life...Now I look forward to meeting the baba on the train who really DOES have a grandson my age, who is nice and smart and handsome and will keep me warm on these cold Bulgarian nights...The more I meet, the better the probability gets, right? Hehehehe.
**I hearby open my comments section to my fellow BG volunteers...Please share amusing stories about potential forced relationships in your lives, if you have any. (And I mean, you are in Bulgaria...how could you LACK stories?...)
This is a question I get every time I come "home" to Krichim, but it is never usually brought up so soon.
Ati and Oktai pretty much know the state of romantic relationships in my life. They know there is a severe lack of young and single males in my town. They know I still have issues with the language and am pretty much the opposite of a flirtatious and outgoing individual anyway, even if I could communicate easily.
But this has not stopped the questioning, and therefore the jokes.
On one of my first trips home they asked me if I had any friends in Straldja. I mentioned that I had befriended one baba (grandmother) named Baba Radka and she gave me cucumbers from her garden.
I am, perhaps, too naive at times. After only a few minutes Baba Radka had turned into Hot-Young-Man Radko and he had given me cucumbers of an entirely different sort...
So that was the first joke. And it's stuck. Since then others have come up, including the fact that I they say I am dating Sudku (a Krichim friend of mine who is a reminant of my early days there when Ozhgun rounded up as many people who spoke English as possible to come meet us). I suppose of all the scenerios this is the most probable, as they know him and know we hang out, but they also know he has a girlfriend in Plovdiv...Apparently in Bulgaria, however, that doesn't REALLY matter.
But this trip home, the subject of my love life was even more scrutinized than usual. Every hour some joke was cracked or some remark was made. When I left with Maegen, they told us not to come back until we have boyfriends. Sheesh...It's a joke, but man, that's harsh.
I am not the only one, however. Vtora Andy (Second Andy...not the Andy from my group but the Andy from the more recent group) was there and took the same heat. Maegen took it, I know other volunteers take it.
I find this a very fascinating feature of Bulgarian culture, this obsession with joking about relationships, and I usually find it amusing too. In the states we do the same thing, but it is only amongst people you are close with...Mothers are always trying to fix up their daughters and encouraging their sons to settle down and supply them with grandchildren. But it is not something generally brought up amongst strangers in public places...Though here, every train trip I take I inevitably wind up in a compartment with some baba who inevitably has a grandson just my age who doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, is very nice, has a good job and is very attractive. They all find it very strange I am 23, single, living alone in a far-off land, and seem to be okay with this.
So, that is the state of relationships in my life...Now I look forward to meeting the baba on the train who really DOES have a grandson my age, who is nice and smart and handsome and will keep me warm on these cold Bulgarian nights...The more I meet, the better the probability gets, right? Hehehehe.
**I hearby open my comments section to my fellow BG volunteers...Please share amusing stories about potential forced relationships in your lives, if you have any. (And I mean, you are in Bulgaria...how could you LACK stories?...)
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Snimki...
The new roomie...The kitten, I mean. The boy is Eric, who is a fellow volunteer an hour or so south of me. The kitten is Заека (Zaeka), which is Bulgarian for "female rabbit." Got her a few weeks ago from a friend of a friend, and she has made life much more, uh, interesting in my apartment.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Бавно По Бавно
(Bavno Po Bavno)
This is a Bulgarian phrase meaning "Slowly by slowly...", bascially the English "little by little."
This, I have come to find, is a very IMPORTANT Bulgarian phrase.
It's a phrase that I find myself turning in my mind every day now...Because truly, everything I busy myself with these days is a bit of struggle that seems pretty much never ending.
I am learning Bulgarian. I can get by, converse, even sometimes understand strangers talking to one another. But for every word I know, there are 7 million I don't. For every 30 words I understand, there are three I can produce on my own. Every week I learn a new tense, but then there is always another tense waiting for me next week. I try to construct really good sentences for my students, then they stare at me blankly and one of the "sympathetic listeners" translates it into REAL Bulgarian. Zing.
I am also trying to teach. My students, for the most part, are apathetic, ignorant and disrespectful. The students I consider "good" I only consider "good" because they try to answer questions, they don't throw things and they don't ask me to go to the bathroom 50 times throughout a 40-minute class period...Even they have a lack of consistancy and spend more time tattling on other kids and giving answers out-of-turn than actually studying and listening to me teach. I have completely resigned myself to the fact that they will not do independent work during class...I HAVE to teach constantly throughout the entire period just to manage the crowd. If I assign them an exercise to do on their own for a minute, they just start talking to one another and nothing gets done. It's EXHAUSTING. They all cheat on tests--literally all of them. Even the best of the students do nothing to discourage a neighbor from copying...I am told this is a cultural thing (you help your friends), but my American, do-your-own-work ethic will simply not reconcile itself to it.
I am also on the hunt for friends, which is something I've never been good at, and now I am trying to make them IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE. I feel like when I meet people, I must be such a drain on them and their social gathering. When I am in a group of several English speakers and one Bulgarian, I am so distracted in trying to keep that one Bulgarian in the loop of the conversation that I can't enjoy myself, so I feel like it is the same thing to all the Bulgarians who try to interact with me. I feel like they are laboring, and thus we aren't making any progress towards being actual friends. The Bulgarians are incredibly supportive with my learning, but I don't think they really think of me as a friend...They are just being their hospitible selves.
And finally, I am trying to live on my own. I am becoming a homemaker a responsible adult. I don't think any of my aquaintences would ever have labled me as irresponsible, but now I have a kitchen to keep stocked and meals to cook for myself, water and electricity and telephone bills to pay, floors to keep clean and a kitten to care for. Until now I have been expected to concentrate on one aspect of life--getting my education. I have had side jobs and activities all along, but I have also had family or roommates to help out on the homefront. There have been other people to cook for me when I was too tired, people to wash my dishes when I didn't have time and people to generally pick up the slack when I was not inclined to do something (and vice versa). But now, I am alone. I am the only person in my home, and therefore there is no one to pick up my slack. Too tired to wash dishes? Fine Becca, go to bed. But tomorrow, you'll be sorry.
But, as I try to compensate for that whine-fest, things are looking up. This summer I was at loose ends and terribly, terribly unadjusted. I was just profoundly lost...But the whole time I knew what I know now -- slowly by slowly, I would find myself. And to an extent, that is true. I am better now than I was last month. Last month I was better than the month before...The difference may be minute and fleeting, but it is there. There are good days and bad days, but the good days are getting better and the bad ones are not quite as bad.
I am sure that by the time I leave this place, I will have completed a very important journey.
**Sorry for the abrupt conclusion. I am sick of writing, and I am sure you are sick of reading...
This is a Bulgarian phrase meaning "Slowly by slowly...", bascially the English "little by little."
This, I have come to find, is a very IMPORTANT Bulgarian phrase.
It's a phrase that I find myself turning in my mind every day now...Because truly, everything I busy myself with these days is a bit of struggle that seems pretty much never ending.
I am learning Bulgarian. I can get by, converse, even sometimes understand strangers talking to one another. But for every word I know, there are 7 million I don't. For every 30 words I understand, there are three I can produce on my own. Every week I learn a new tense, but then there is always another tense waiting for me next week. I try to construct really good sentences for my students, then they stare at me blankly and one of the "sympathetic listeners" translates it into REAL Bulgarian. Zing.
I am also trying to teach. My students, for the most part, are apathetic, ignorant and disrespectful. The students I consider "good" I only consider "good" because they try to answer questions, they don't throw things and they don't ask me to go to the bathroom 50 times throughout a 40-minute class period...Even they have a lack of consistancy and spend more time tattling on other kids and giving answers out-of-turn than actually studying and listening to me teach. I have completely resigned myself to the fact that they will not do independent work during class...I HAVE to teach constantly throughout the entire period just to manage the crowd. If I assign them an exercise to do on their own for a minute, they just start talking to one another and nothing gets done. It's EXHAUSTING. They all cheat on tests--literally all of them. Even the best of the students do nothing to discourage a neighbor from copying...I am told this is a cultural thing (you help your friends), but my American, do-your-own-work ethic will simply not reconcile itself to it.
I am also on the hunt for friends, which is something I've never been good at, and now I am trying to make them IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE. I feel like when I meet people, I must be such a drain on them and their social gathering. When I am in a group of several English speakers and one Bulgarian, I am so distracted in trying to keep that one Bulgarian in the loop of the conversation that I can't enjoy myself, so I feel like it is the same thing to all the Bulgarians who try to interact with me. I feel like they are laboring, and thus we aren't making any progress towards being actual friends. The Bulgarians are incredibly supportive with my learning, but I don't think they really think of me as a friend...They are just being their hospitible selves.
And finally, I am trying to live on my own. I am becoming a homemaker a responsible adult. I don't think any of my aquaintences would ever have labled me as irresponsible, but now I have a kitchen to keep stocked and meals to cook for myself, water and electricity and telephone bills to pay, floors to keep clean and a kitten to care for. Until now I have been expected to concentrate on one aspect of life--getting my education. I have had side jobs and activities all along, but I have also had family or roommates to help out on the homefront. There have been other people to cook for me when I was too tired, people to wash my dishes when I didn't have time and people to generally pick up the slack when I was not inclined to do something (and vice versa). But now, I am alone. I am the only person in my home, and therefore there is no one to pick up my slack. Too tired to wash dishes? Fine Becca, go to bed. But tomorrow, you'll be sorry.
But, as I try to compensate for that whine-fest, things are looking up. This summer I was at loose ends and terribly, terribly unadjusted. I was just profoundly lost...But the whole time I knew what I know now -- slowly by slowly, I would find myself. And to an extent, that is true. I am better now than I was last month. Last month I was better than the month before...The difference may be minute and fleeting, but it is there. There are good days and bad days, but the good days are getting better and the bad ones are not quite as bad.
I am sure that by the time I leave this place, I will have completed a very important journey.
**Sorry for the abrupt conclusion. I am sick of writing, and I am sure you are sick of reading...
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
The 22-Hour Field Trip
...was actually a 24-hour day for me.
I woke up at 2:30 a.m., brewed some coffee, found my yogurt had frozen in my fridge and settled for some Bake Rolls for breakfast instead. I got dressed in an outfit I had laid out the night before (I knew putting together a matching, weather-appropriate outfit would be too complicated for me at 2:30 a.m.) and even managed to brush my teeth and hair.
At 3 a.m. I called Rosie to make sure she was out of bed. Fifteen minutes later we met oustide of my block and made our very dark way to the train station.
The students were waiting for us...All 44 of them. The 4 other teachers took roll (I think they thought of me more as a guest than an actual chaperone) and we waited in the light rain for the train.
Before 4 a.m. the train had arrived, we got on, woke up some sleepers in the compartments to make room for all of us, and settled in for the 3-hour ride to Varna.
We arrived shortly after the sky began to lighten. Though we had left the slow drizzle of Straldja behind, the sky was gloomy and the temperature had dropped about 5 degrees making a bone-chilling cold, damp day not too unlike our previous excursion to northern Bulgaria.
Our first order of business was to eat. The kids were set to their own devices and told to gather at the planitarium at 9:30. Most of them flocked to the McDonalds (as did I) and got Big Macs for breakfast. Once 9:30 came around we retraced our steps towards the planitarium for our first activity of the day.
Most of the presentation consisted of a powerpoint presentation and a film (the presentation being in Bulgarian and the film being in English with subtitles). In the last few minutes the woman running the show did the typical (and really cool) star presentation. After using the toilets, we headed out into the cold again and crossed the huge waterfront park towards the "Dolphinarium."
Talk about random activities...We saw a dolphin show. Not only did we see it, one of my sixth grade students got to participate. They put her in a raft and sent her across the pool and the dolphins had to push her back. She was delighted, and everyone was snapping photos on their mobile phones.
Once the show was over, we boarded a bus and headed to the Aladja Monastery. I didn't even knew it existed...It is a monastery that is carved into the face of this stone hill where monks lived in the 12 to 13th centuries. It was a truly bizzare spot, but very attractive. Some gardener found us and told us all about the monks' cells (which were little more than round indents in the rocks) and the bigger indent that had served as the chapel.
Once we had exhausted all of the views from the monastery, we got back on the bus and I finally asked Rosie where we were going next (up until that point I had simply been following and arriving.) She told me the name, but I didn't understand what it was. "It's like Stonehenge," she said.
Okay, so there is a Stonehenge in Bulgaria too. Go figure.
We arrived at the next site and I found out what she was talking about. It was an entire field filled with huge, naturally-made, weather-worn rock formations and sand. The kids took to climping the rocks, and the adults just tried to stay warm in the bitter wind.
After some time, the kids began complaining of hunger, so we again boarded the bus and headed back to the city of Varna. Again we split up, and the 5 teachers found a pizzaria. Let me just say it wasn't the best pizza I've had here, and it was by far the worst price.
With full bellies we met again and went to see The Legend of Zoro in this discount movie theater. I must say there was a certain amount of internal gloating on my part when some of my worst students watched me enviously as I watched the movie, not reading the subtitles. In my head I said, "Wish you had actually studied now?..."
The film was over shortly after 8, so we headed back to the train station and hung around the train sucking down coffee and hot chocolate for warmth and energy. The train left at 10:20, we got back home at 2 a.m., and I absolutely and profoundly crashed.
I woke up at 2:30 a.m., brewed some coffee, found my yogurt had frozen in my fridge and settled for some Bake Rolls for breakfast instead. I got dressed in an outfit I had laid out the night before (I knew putting together a matching, weather-appropriate outfit would be too complicated for me at 2:30 a.m.) and even managed to brush my teeth and hair.
At 3 a.m. I called Rosie to make sure she was out of bed. Fifteen minutes later we met oustide of my block and made our very dark way to the train station.
The students were waiting for us...All 44 of them. The 4 other teachers took roll (I think they thought of me more as a guest than an actual chaperone) and we waited in the light rain for the train.
Before 4 a.m. the train had arrived, we got on, woke up some sleepers in the compartments to make room for all of us, and settled in for the 3-hour ride to Varna.
We arrived shortly after the sky began to lighten. Though we had left the slow drizzle of Straldja behind, the sky was gloomy and the temperature had dropped about 5 degrees making a bone-chilling cold, damp day not too unlike our previous excursion to northern Bulgaria.
Our first order of business was to eat. The kids were set to their own devices and told to gather at the planitarium at 9:30. Most of them flocked to the McDonalds (as did I) and got Big Macs for breakfast. Once 9:30 came around we retraced our steps towards the planitarium for our first activity of the day.
Most of the presentation consisted of a powerpoint presentation and a film (the presentation being in Bulgarian and the film being in English with subtitles). In the last few minutes the woman running the show did the typical (and really cool) star presentation. After using the toilets, we headed out into the cold again and crossed the huge waterfront park towards the "Dolphinarium."
Talk about random activities...We saw a dolphin show. Not only did we see it, one of my sixth grade students got to participate. They put her in a raft and sent her across the pool and the dolphins had to push her back. She was delighted, and everyone was snapping photos on their mobile phones.
Once the show was over, we boarded a bus and headed to the Aladja Monastery. I didn't even knew it existed...It is a monastery that is carved into the face of this stone hill where monks lived in the 12 to 13th centuries. It was a truly bizzare spot, but very attractive. Some gardener found us and told us all about the monks' cells (which were little more than round indents in the rocks) and the bigger indent that had served as the chapel.
Once we had exhausted all of the views from the monastery, we got back on the bus and I finally asked Rosie where we were going next (up until that point I had simply been following and arriving.) She told me the name, but I didn't understand what it was. "It's like Stonehenge," she said.
Okay, so there is a Stonehenge in Bulgaria too. Go figure.
We arrived at the next site and I found out what she was talking about. It was an entire field filled with huge, naturally-made, weather-worn rock formations and sand. The kids took to climping the rocks, and the adults just tried to stay warm in the bitter wind.
After some time, the kids began complaining of hunger, so we again boarded the bus and headed back to the city of Varna. Again we split up, and the 5 teachers found a pizzaria. Let me just say it wasn't the best pizza I've had here, and it was by far the worst price.
With full bellies we met again and went to see The Legend of Zoro in this discount movie theater. I must say there was a certain amount of internal gloating on my part when some of my worst students watched me enviously as I watched the movie, not reading the subtitles. In my head I said, "Wish you had actually studied now?..."
The film was over shortly after 8, so we headed back to the train station and hung around the train sucking down coffee and hot chocolate for warmth and energy. The train left at 10:20, we got back home at 2 a.m., and I absolutely and profoundly crashed.
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