With Balaclava helmets over their heads, yes

Self portrait, thinking about going back to blonde, originally uploaded by your neighborhood librarian.

I am in a FOUL mood. I am in such a bad mood that it's FUNNY. Tonight at work I was a little hypoglycemic and a little menstrual (TMI? F.U!) and I stalked over to my colleague 'Librarian' Is A Euphemism for WHAT? (LIAEFW for short) and told her to give me some of the M&Ms she has stashed in her desk or I would pull her hair.

Her M&M's bag was, as it turns out, being used to store plastic spider rings. Ho yeah, it might have gotten ugly had not another librarian (Pseudonym Forthcoming) stepped in with a bag of Dove Dots.

Now, I have forbidden myself to write about my job on this blog, except to make very general observations, or if I did something silly, or, in more than one case, to complain about being ogled. That is my right. I get ogled, I get to complain. And so tonight, I must limit myself to a few very general observations.

While most people who come into the library looking for help are delightful and civil, some are not. Some people who use the library are lazy. Some are dumb. Or ill-mannered. Some, of course, are mentally ill and need residential services and don't get them because this is America and apparently we think that crazy people are picturesque additions to the landscape. Also tonight, the Internet was so slow as to be considered a Barrier To Effective Service. And for some reason, every time I answered the phone, the volume was WAAAY up and crackin in my ear. Ow.

Of course, I started my shift feeling all Buffy Season Six (in which the writers humiliate the blonde in every way they can imagine) because I had spent eight of the previous 24 hours crawling around on the basement floor. I painted the baseboards, I scrubbed the stray grout off the slate floor tiles in the bathroom (um, that took TWO HOURS), I sealed that slate floor, and I started to lay the carpet tiles in the guest room down there.

Lets count down the positions I have been spending a lot of time in on the basement floor:

6. Kneeling
5. Squatting (including squatting with head on wall for balance)
4. Criss-cross applesauce
3. Hands and knees
2. Prone

And the number-one position for scrubbing grout, sealing floor tile, painting baseboard, AND laying carpet tile:

1. Elbows and knees, ass in the air

It was like yoga - with solvents.

Life used to be so hard

Yeah, no. Actually, now that the contractors have gone, MY work increases exponentially. I (we) have to figure out where things go in the new kitchen, wash or wipe or vacuum or dust EVERY SINGLE THING IN THE HOUSE, seal the deck, seal the grout, seal the new bathroom floor, install the carpet in the basement, move furniture, paint, figure out curtains and blinds... basically reconfigure my house.

But I don't mind. You know I don't. I'm sitting here in the new kitchen working on the laptop and the only sounds I hear are the dishwasher and the washing machine (both of which have been running more or less constantly since Friday, the last day the contractors were here). I can gaze out the kitchen window at my two new bird feeders. I can gaze, uh, INSIDE the kitchen window at the toaster sitting peacefully in its corner on the new countertop. All is well.

To wrap up this thing, here are before, during, and after photos of the work on our house. We had half the basement leveled and built a family room / guest room and full bath down there. We re-did the kitchen. We had sliding doors installed in the dining room, leading to a new deck.


BASEMENT

Before:


During:


They had to cut out the previous, viciously slanted, basement floor and pour a new, flat, one. That corner in the upper left is where the bathroom is now.



Basement guest room leveled and framed. Stairs are to the outside.



Guest room painted.



This little ell was going to be my office, but now looks like a good spot for an elliptical for Bob. We'll make the old playroom into an office / homework room. It has windows.



Bathroom getting its slate floor.


After:


Here's that little ell with drywall, ceiling, electricity, paint and molding.



The blue-sky guest room, with ceiling, light, a new window.




And! Visitors to Chez Librarian will luxuriate in their very own full bathroom! Enjoy the heated floor, the ample light, and the oversize tub! Be sure to notice the dark-purple towels that an entire staff of librarians and everyone I know on Facebook helped me find! Stocked with LUSH products, courtesy of my sister-in-law Janie!

I love this room.


KITCHEN

Before-before-before:



This was an early conception, using IKEA's kitchen planning software. That program kept crapping out on me, it uses a lot of memory. But it's pretty close to what we ended up doing, actually.

Before:



And this is on its VERY BEST DAY.


During:



First they destroyed it.



Then they rebuilt it.



Then it was paint, floor, electricity, cabinets.

After:



And then it was time to stand back and sniffle.


DECK

Before:



Hugged tight to the house, only projects about 8' at its deepest. Old and splintery, with nails that we knocked back in every spring. Its time had come.

During:



Wrecking the old deck. I would have enjoyed doing that part myself, actually.




Building the new one. Bigger. Two levels.



We wanted it to step down into the yard in increments, like.

After:






DINING ROOM (sliding door to deck)

Before:



See those two little casement windows? That was previously about it for our view of the backyard. Our house seemed to literally turn its back on the yard - you couldn't see it from anywhere inside the house.


During:



So we paid men to come and chop a big giant hole in the wall.



They found a pack of cigarettes. This is the same brand in which the famous Honus Wagner baseball card was found. No card. We put 'em back in the wall, along with a half-smoked pack of Marlboro Reds.

After:



"Then, window, let day in, and let life out."



And curtains for when the sun is too much.

"As the basal ganglia take up their power tools, what started as an ordinary headache is turning into something much, much worse" - Clive Owen

I have been having a headache. If that seems like an odd deployment of the past perfect (I think) tense, consider that I woke up with this headache early last week, spent two days and several evenings in bed with it, and was almost rid of it this morning, only to have it reprise early this afternoon, this time with full chorus and strolling musicians.

It's kind of evolving. It makes me nauseous. It reverberates through my joints and in my back. It is affected by light. As of Sunday, it began to notice sound. And yesterday, it caused my hands to shake. Maybe we should make a Discovery Channel documentary out of it. Can Clive Owen narrate? He'd make it sound ominous and sexy.

Anyway, after trying multiple combinations of Advil, Aleve, Excedrin, hydrating like a motherfucker, abstaining from caffeine, taking extra caffeine, etc., my generous and caring cousin spanked me some Imitrex. Oh, she is one talented cousin, that cousin!

I took my friend Loren's advice, and waited to take it until I knew I didn't have anything to do for the next few hours. I'm terrible at drugs anyway. My first labor was hell, you should have been there. No you shouldn't have. So tonight around 6pm I took the Imitrex and got in a bubble bath. These headaches also make me cold, very cold, unwarmably cold.

The headache wasn't going anywhere, but I did get nice and warm. I had brought a book into the bathroom, but I forgot about it while I watched the patterns in the bubbles. I saw a lioness, a cream pie (one of those tall ones like you see in diners), Grover from Sesame Street (twice), a proboscis monkey, the state of Georgia - wait no that was South Carolina, Chester Cheetah, a polar bear, and the silhouette of a cruise ship.

So I decided to get out of the bath.

Lay your weary head to rest

Conversation with my five-year-old boy.

YNL: I give you guys extra love at night so you won't have bad dreams.
Zhou: I never have dreams, so... [shrugs]
YNL: Well, that's not going to stop me. Better safe than sorry.
Z: I had a bad dream once, though. A duck walked into my room.
YNL: A duck? And that was a bad dream?
Z: You know how when you're not expecting something?
YNL: Sure, ok, I can see how that might creep you out.
Z: And I had a bad dream about a chicken shaking its booty. Wearing goggles.
YNL: Do... all of your dreams have birds in them?
Z: No, I had a dream about a tiger once. It was coming out of my closet. But that wasn't a bad dream.
YNL: The duck was a bad dream, and the tiger wasn't.
Z: Well... I was just making that up, about the tiger.

I haven't been so offended in weeks - or, "Tell me what you want, what you really really want"

Which Spice Girl Are You?
	You are Baby Spice. The world sees a shy, yet confident person when they look at you. You are empathetic and know how to comfort a friend instantly. You are sometimes given the reputation of being prim and proper, but your best friends know what a crazyfun person you are!
Find Your Character @ BrainFall.com

His sunglasses were also in his work bag

when he backed over it. But like the laptop, the glasses were ok!

"This is KAOS: We don't 'Ka-frickin'-boom' here"

We are back living in our house full-time but, if possible, we are more disoriented than even we were when we were commuting across town from my parents' house.

For instance: to prepare a meal, first we have to locate dishes and cookware. Then wash them, because they are covered with drywall dust. The washing's in the utility sink in the basement - still no water in the kitchen. Then we cook, bringing food up from the basement fridge and around from the breadbox and food-prep stash in the dining room. Then back to the dining room - the long way, because the door between the kitchen and the dining room is still blocked, and I'm not sure why. Then there's washing up. My back is KILLING me from bending over that utility sink.

And Oh yes, I know, cry me a river, I'm going to get a brand new way-classy kitchen out of all this and I should just shut my yap. We are listening to The Long Winter in the car and holy Jesus the Ingalls family is down to bread and water, huddled in the dark around the cookstove in the kitchen, burning straw because there is no more coal or wood, with at least another month of winter to go. That is not us.

But man, I'm telling you, we are getting funky in the head from all this. Today? No wait this deserves its own paragraph.

Today my husband ran over his laptop with the car.

And didn't realize it.

I mean, mornings around here are even more messed-up than dinner: first of all, there's me, no help at all, virtually catatonic until about 8:00 a.m.; and there's NO socks, I think we left two dozen pairs of boy socks over my mom's; and the milk is in the basement, and the cereal is who knows where, and you have to wash the bowls and locate some spoons if it's cereal, and if it's oatmeal, you have to unplug the rice maker and plug in the microwave. I don't even know what Bob has to go through to make lunches - I haven't made a lunch since Mao's first week of school three years ago.

And now there's snow.

So today, Bob was taking the kids to school because I had to be at work at 9:00 and before that I had to have a high-level conference with the contractors over, I shit you not, drawer pulls and weatherstripping. People were running late because our Zhou decided he had to count to 300 before getting out of bed. (NOT incipient OCD - I am sure that if someone had noticed that he was lying in bed counting, and asked him to quit that and get up and get dressed, he would have been able to do so without going into a screaming fugue state.) Oh and then somebody had to poop.

Eventually though, they were off. Bob took the minivan, because the Civic was mired in the mud and snow and ice at the bottom of the driveway, and besides the kids hate riding in that car, it looks like a cross between a gym locker and a file cabinet. He was going to stop back to help me pry the Civic out of its icy berth before we both headed off to work.

While he was gone, I had my drawer pull summit with Contractor Mike. When we moved on to the weatherstripping around the front door, I noticed Bob's gym bag and work bag sitting in the snow where the driveway meets the sidewalk. I call him on the phone.

"Did you get mugged at the end of our driveway twenty minutes ago?"
"What?"
"You don't seem to have managed to have gotten your gym bag and work bag all the way into the car."
"Oh you're kidding. I had to go back inside for someone's lunchbox and I must have walked right past them."
"I'll go get them - you'll run 'em over if you pull in the driveway, where they are now."
"..."
"..."
"Oh my god -"
"Do you think - ?"
"Did you feel a bump when you pulled out?"
"I did."
"Because - I've seen a laptop after it's been run over by a car, and - well it looks pretty cool actually - the screen gets all saggy, but..."

So I fetched the bags in and it was hard to tell. There was no tire track, nothing was visibly squished, but I didn't try to open the laptop. I thought at most he'd caught part of one of the bags, but not a direct hit.

Turns out, yeahhh, he ran it over. When I talked to him later though, he said, "But you're never going to believe it, it started right up!" He hooked it to a projector and was cranking along on his spreadsheets and proposals. I advised him to a) order a new laptop and b) save anything he could salvage to a flash drive immediately. I also said, "Note to self: buy more life insurance for Bob." He thinks I'm making with TEH HUMER when I say that and to that I snort "Sure thing, Seizure Boy."

We have got to get this project DONE.

Don't Wake up the Baby (Or the Baby Will Get You)

our Mao, originally uploaded by your neighborhood librarian.

We had our first day of Circus Arts Club at the elementary school today. Despite a few snafus (the two other parents who were going to do it with me, separately and for different reasons, er, bailed) and a truly staggering number of children signed up (27), our first meeting went well. Especially considering it's meant to be an outside club, with hula hooping, juggling, and unicycle lessons, and today, because of the cold, we had to hold it in the science room (thanks Ms. Jagusch, sorry you had to do report cards with 27 chattering would-be clowns in the room).

Yeah. I'm a little punch-drunk.

We talked about circuses and expectations (sorry, no lion taming, no wheel of death) (popcorn maybe), I handed around some equipment to fondle, and I failed to really badly hurt myself on the unicycle.

Slap-happy. Maybe ready for a drink.

Before we broke up until next week, we all selected clown names. I had some suggestions at the ready for kids who were stuck: Guapo the Clown, Oboe, The Bonus Brothers, Freckles, Beep... but I needn't have bothered.

HERE ARE WHAT THESE LITTLE WACK JOBS CAME UP WITH:

Robin the Ridiculous. Ok fine.
Loony the Clown. Sure.
Jit. This was a kindergartner, but wasn't Marcel Marceau's clown name something similar? Bip?
Skeleton the Clown
Lumpa Lumpa
Guy the Clown
Hobsloe the Horrendous. Wow!
Death of Pain. THE CLOWN.
Five Dollar Foot Long (these last two are twins, and I'm totally loving their clown names)

Of course, we also had a Checkers, two Lulus, a McNougat, and a Buttercup, but even those, I am sure... let's just say I'm not getting into a tiny car with any of these little bananagrams!

Not until they're trained, at least.

I've got blisters on my fingers

11:20p
Oh I'm not even gonna COMMENT on little Reese's weird black and blue parentheses gown.
Hey not only is Sofia Loren alive but she gives HALLE BERRY a run for her money, even in that bronze Hello Dolly dress. I love these direct-address presentations for the major awards. The women are especially fantastic at this. Everybody's crying.
But frickin Halle Berry is the most gorgeous person at this event, and that dress doesn't suck at all. She's been drinking the blood of Thai virgins to stay looking so amazing.
Nicole Kidman is wearing, surprise, white. Looks like she and Angelina Jolie HATE each other though, man that was the iciest fake smile and tiny head incline you are ever likely to see.
Sean Penn, despite being atypically charming and very heartfelt... forgot to thank the wife. Ow, man, she was sitting right in the front row looking AMAZING, and she was the Princess Bride! Tsk, tsk.
The little Slumdog kids are still up for the finale! Yay, little guys on stage for best picture! Too tired to lose their minds, and so am I.

10:55p
Almost ELEVEN and finally a dress slit up to Heebus! Plus it's purple, yay! It's on Alicia Keys, you know, the musician girls always give it a little extra, don't you think?
Really? Pairing wee Frieda with giant Liam? She must be wearing foot-high heels with that pretty blue dress.

THE DEAD. Nice to have Latifah sing 'em off. And I ain't gonna miss Michael Crichton, guy didn't believe in global warming. Probably crazy. But Roy Scheider, that's a blow. He shared my birthday! But it was a little bit of a bad year for men of color - Isaac Hayes, the black cop from Robocop, Bernie Mac, and Ricardo Montalban, my favorite Klingon ever.

10pm
Who's the tallest of the 5 previous leading men? Oh, it's Kline of course. Guy's a giant, but it don't mean you can keep that mustache forever, pal.
PSH, Meryl is going to be ON YOU for that little hatty-hat.
"Josh Brolin's brilliant work in Milk." heh heh, sounds like that Annie Liebowitz portrait of Whoopi Goldberg. or... something ewwier.
Sniffle. Heath Ledger.
Hey that's Sofia Loren! She's still alive?
No, really, sniffle. Heath Ledger.
Is Bill Maher's suit made of rubber? If so, I'm kind of impressed. Not enough to overlook the Karrine Steffans thing, of course.
Excellent! Philippe Petit balanced the Oscar on his chin! I'm guessing that's a first.
Best dress of the night, and it's on the director of the Best Documentary Short Subject? Well, you never know. Couple years ago it was Deneuve. Red faced with gold with twin drapes down the back.

9:40p
Jessica Biel's dress got loose and is waterfalling down her front, AND it's white! Arg! This is the last year I'm doing this, if these silly girls can't sack up and commit to color, or fringe, or a slit up to Heebus, or a headdress. They look like a squad of fancy nurses.

OH wow... JESUS CHRIST! Huge Ass-man (lucky him, at this moment) and Beyonce just singlehandedly crushed the presumed return of the musical! That was THE klutziest montage number I've ever seen. Even Baz Luhrman looks stunned and appalled, and supposedly it's his number.

9:30p
Natalie Portman is wearing PINK! Thank you, God and Natalie Portman! and she looks fantastic, even if the gown is not super interesting. Ben Stiller is imitating Joaquin Phoenix? That's almost... edgy. At least it's, you know, current.
What a classy, understated, friendly speech by the Cinematography winner, but, um, is he wearing Crocs?

9:15pm
I've NEVER liked SJP, and I kind of hate that dumb old hoopy white dress that squishes her boobs up VERY high and VERY squished, but seeing her stride out on stage, can we actually SEE THROUGH it? The center part and down hair don't make her face look any shorter or less... equine... AND she's standing next to my secret boyfriend, Daniel Craig. Phht.
These guys that won Costume Design for The Duchess have to at the very least be congratulated for getting any clothes onto Keira Knightley at all. I am so sick of seeing that skinny kid naked or nearly naked - she wears bandage tops when she goes out, and she wears only a hat - in the wrong place - in ads for Chanel.
Little Amanda Seyfried is at least wearing red, but the stiff fabric makes it look clanky. And if that montage was romance at the movies in 2008, cripes I haven't missed a THING.

8:50pm
That's better. A cute presentation for Tina and Steve Martin, but Tina Fey's hair is dumb. And yet more silver. Now, this is strange - Tina Fey actually kind of DOES have hips, unlike Anne Hathaway, and yet HER dress manages to not make her hips look big.
AAAANND Aniston is in silver AND white. Yeeeahh she's never going to wear anything interesting. But she can deliver a funny line, and I don't know why that doesn't count for more.

8:30pm
Ok Hugh Jackman, charming, but I don't guess we can expect that much funny. Singing.
No, really, he's still singing.
PSH is wearing a schmatte. He's a bold man. Always a hat guy, he wore the hell out of that fedora in Capote, and indeed he wore a beer hat in Twister, still one of his finest roles. He craved sustenance.

Ok lets recap: so far, no SWINTON, no Mirren, no Cher, no Cate Blanchett. No Julia Roberts, or Clooney, or Johnny Depp, no Damon, no Affleck, not even Paltrow. Kind of an arid year, I have to say.

No wait, we have SWINTON! YAY! Looking... like an android. Oh well, at least she's not wearing cheetah chiffon - christ, Whoopi. Holy MOTHERFUCKING shit Goldie Hawn now has Mickey Rourke's face, and more of that beige silk all these ladies seem to like. Also, brush your hair. Also, we can see your plastic boob brace.
It's Penelope, who thanks Almodovar, and whose dress I like better from the back.

8:20pm
You know, when I worked at the American Museum of Natural History, the communications dept would rather massacre a busload of schoolchildren than let a commercial film crew through those tall brass revolving doors. They turned down Relic (well they had bad blood with Richard Preston, who wrote the book), they turned down Night at the Museum. Now they're letting Sprint in. Standards. Nobody has no standards no more.

Meryl looks amazing, and I can't fault her for the grey - grey looks terrific on blondes.
Penelope raided Grandma's closet for vintage Balmain that is ALSO WHITE. I am getting really tired of WHITE tonight.
Jack Black wash your hair. Also shave.
Tomei, that IS a nice dress despite looking like the pile of cocktail napkins the bartender twirled a sideways glass on.
Leslie Mann is a big mirror, which is an interesting choice. Interesting is better than white.

8:10pm
Valentino: I remember the very first time I recognized a dress, was the Valentino Jane Fonda wore when she picked up her father's Oscar for On Golden Pond. I'd seen it in Italian Vogue, a russet gold-embroidered ballgown.
Oh the Slumdog Millionaire bunch, god the place is going to go bananafish when it wins.
Mickey Rourke wash your hair. He can pronounce Gaultier though.
Zac Efron I just last night noticed was in Firefly. He played Simon as a boy. Vanessa whatserface wants to meet Meryl Streep? Ho yeah, what on earth is she going to say to her?
RDJ's wife must be like 5'2", cause I think he himself is only like five and a half. But she looks pretty in that coral color.
Miley Cyrus, who can understand that?
Time for me to say shit about Anne Hathaway's dress. Ok. It's boring. And - am I hallucinating? It makes her HIPS LOOK BIG.

8pm
Winslet, boring. But at least it's a color. And if I'm not mistaken, even she knows she's going to win.
Diane Lane is MARRIED to Josh Brolin? I didn't realize. Nice Morticia dress.
Amy Adams, the red is great, but the puddle of Trix vomit around her neck looks like the stepstones that my kids made last summer.
SJP looks like Bride Barbie, and she's spilling out the top of it, and her beard is getting fat.
Taraji P. Henson, now that is a neat dress. Sort of mummy wrappings.
Gunn actually GRABBED Angelina by that skinny toothpicky arm, guess he heard how she rollerskated away from Seacrest at the Gold Globes.

7:40pm
Am I going to live-blog the Oscars AGAIN? With access to not even basic cable? You're kidding me.

I may not, actually. I'm feeling kind of blah again, and the prospect of saying mean things about Anne Hathaway's dress is not enough for me to get it up. I will be following the Fug Girls' liveblogging and the Guardian UK. And drinking.

I feed my horse on corn and beans

This used to be my playground

The cat is sitting in a puddle of sunshine mewing miserably. She just HATES all the construction going on in our house - the power tools, the sawdust, and, apparently, the fact that her litter box is not where she expects it to be. I can smell it, you stupid little mammal, and when I find it, if it's one of our beds, I will be ANGRY. I don't care how traumatized you are. You should fear nothing more than you fear me.

Ok, yes, I also am sitting in a puddle of sunshine mewing miserably. I have a head cold and no cable, and I can't even watch old episodes of Cagney and Lacey on Netflix Instant because the Netflix player plus my Linux laptop equal HATE and ERROR and 404 HA HA YOU THINK YOU'RE SO SMART, YOU REJECTOR OF PROPRIETARY SOFTWARE YOU and THE ONLY WINNING MOVE IS NOT TO PLAY.

AND I am miserable because we have been unable to use our kitchen, dining room, basement, or living room since mid-January, and we're hiding out upstairs, in three little rooms plus a bathroom. Also, we've been staying at my parents' house a lot. Which - wait, no, that part is great. Really! They have cable and wifi and electric blankets and they keep the heat up nice and comfy high and we don't even have to feel crappy about not pitching in on the cleaning because they use a housecleaning service! The kids are happy to see so much of their grandparents - Mao has become devoted to Alton Brown, whom he watches with his grandfather, and about whom I cannot figure what is all the fuss. Guy's not THAT funny, or THAT original - and yesterday when I really needed to sleep all day with this cold, I slept all day without being awakened by power tools or cursing or Contractor Jake who whistles ALL THE TIME.

I've also been spending a LOT of time in the car. Mom & Dad's house is clear across town, plus I'm running around looking at flooring and countertops and tile - Christ, I think that part's done and I could not be happier - and, let's face it, our house is just not that pleasant during the day.

As a result, when I was going to pick up Bob today to make a final countertop decision, I glanced over at the passenger side of the minivan, and suggested we just meet at Home Depot.

Check this out:



That is my front passenger seat. I had a couple minutes in the Home Depot parking lot, so I picked the pile apart a little (like Alton Brown examining the components of pad thai).



Nori crackers, because I have a bad habit of skipping meals, and then getting so hypoglycemic that I think I don't need to eat, and then getting homicidal when... well, just getting homicidal.




Walter Dean Myers, Sunrise Over Fallujah. Reading for Great Books for Kids.



Christopher Moore, Coyote Blue. My reward for reading Sunrise Over Fallujah.



Curtains for the sliding door in the dining room. Measured, pinned, and ironed, waiting for me to find a sewing machine that I can figure out how to use. There's also a bag of grommets in the car associated with this project, but I did not take a picture of the bag of grommets. But I think I will look for excuses to say or type "bag of grommets" for the rest of the day.




Miscellaneous chocolate from a checkout line. Usually I can resist the checkout line chocolate, but I am feeling weak.




An extremely large fungus the kids found in the woods with Grandma.




Lunch to take to work on Saturday.




Laptop case / briefcase. Has the Project Folder in it. The Project Folder has every receipt, every measurement, every paint color, surface, plan, drawing, specs for every appliance, pages torn out of catalogs to remind me what I'm going for here, and tickets to Aruba in case I really have to bail on this renovation.




My camera bag. Eleanor From High School recently reminded me that I used to have a red shoulder bag that I carried with me everywhere and that I called The Red Bag Of Courage. I think this is the new Red Bag Of Courage. I love this camera bag.




Not a comment on our renovation - it's where we are in the Little House books. But it could also be a comment on our renovation. Cabinets are going in today - maybe we only have three more weeks to go. If it goes longer than that I think I'll start peeing in the corners too.