Tweet, tweet. Type, type. No one gives.

Thanks to Twitter, I literally think in complete sentences.
And not only that, I make sure it's not too long. And then I slap myself several times for doing so.
Seriously. That first sentence was a thought I had while walking around the house. Every thought is "a good tweet". Even though I don't tweet everything I think... I blog the rest. ;) No, I'm kidding. I do keep some thoughts to myself. But it's weird... Twitter. I know I'm the last blogger to whine about this, and I am going to be brief about it, but it makes us think that everyone cares.
Only, blogging started all that. Except by me--I started this knowing no one would read it, and don't expect anyone to read it, so yay. I just type things that I can't say to a person because they'd think I was nuts, and maybe some random person will like what I have to say.
Some people blog/tweet about a specific thing, others blog/tweet because they think very highly of themselves and blogging/Twitter makes them think they've established a center of importance... others blog/tweet because they're freakishly bored one night and just had to create another thing for themselves to constantly update.
Hi.

Sorry! Sorry, my ass.

I always feel like I have to apologize for things I write in these blogs. But I don't. I mean, first of all, who reads them? Me, pretty much. So whatever. Second of all, I always imagine responses of people who are cynical, atheist, or both, since atheists are pretty much always cynical.
See?! Right there, I felt like apologizing. It's this stupid society we've created today where we feel like we always have to be politically correct. (I was about to apologize for going on an anti-society rant, since it's usually against my nature. And I just did. Crap.) But I really shouldn't have to apologize for it! Who remembers the first amendment in our Constitution, freedom of speech? I just get so scared reading the news on my homepage every day about this person saying something offending and another saying something about being offended, that I don't want to offend anyone! But really, how can anyone sue me over a blog post? I'm not slandering, just expressing my opinions. I mean, I am kinda paranoid sometimes, but seriously.
No one needs to apologize for thinking out loud.

Face the music (ha, ha)

So I suddenly had "15 Step" by Radiohead floating in my head this morning and I really wanted to listen to it, so I did. Then, it was in my head pretty much all day, so I started listening to it again. And again. And again.
And now I'm realizing that this song is making me think majorly, and I was totally supposed to listen to it to begin with. (It's on repeat right now.)
So this reminds me of not Divine Intervention, as you who probably think I'm all religious think, but rather to facing problems.
Because, see, when I had a song in my head, I used to think the goal was simple: get it out. So I'd listen to other music, and the song would be in my head. But then a couple of days later, it would suddenly just pop in there and just not leave. And then I'd listen to that song, and then other music, and BAM, instant cure.
I see this as an analogy to our problems: we let the furious thoughts stew in our heads, avoid the people/things that caused our problems completely, go on with our lives... but the problems aren't solved at all. So if we let the furious thoughts out, actually confront the people/things that cause our problems, and then go on with our lives, then BAM, instant cure.

THE MOON (again)

So I found it.
About a week ago, it was there, almost full, and pretty, white, and bright.
I was really happy.
And I didn't see it tonight, but I know it's there. It's just a treat when I get to actually see it.
Like a miracle.

Surprise! The good got better!

You know what I really like? When things aren't what they seem. Not the bad kind, though. I like when things are better than they seem. The prime example? Guys.
Like I'll see this guy, and maybe meet him for a couple of seconds, and think, Dang, he's pretty awesome. And then later, I'll actually talk to him, and be like HOLY COW this kid's amazing. And that just blows me away.
Or even with people's eyes. I love how you'll totally not notice what color someone's eyes are and assume they're brown b/c from what you remember, they're just dark, and then you look closer... and they're a stunning blue, or a stunning green, or something. It's just such a nice surprise. I love it.
I have actually met a couple of guys like those who had those kinds of eyes, and that was really bad for me.
Why?
Because the first one, I thought was a dork, but then he turned out to be really sweet, and then it turned on me when he went to full-fledged jerk in a couple of years. He also had these gorgeous green eyes that I had assumed were brown until I actually looked.
The second one was way too old for me. I won't go into the details, but believe me, it was quite the age difference. He would put on a show of being a typical male jerk, but inside he was really bighearted and sweet and just all around awesome. And he had surprise eyes that I had actually thought were blue, believe it or not, but they were green.
The third one is one I'm struggling with right now. Before I'd met him, he was just a mutual friend who I knew was a nice kid. I'd seen him around, and then when I did meet him, I still hardly talked to him. But then not too long ago, we got to talking, and he turned out to be not only sweet but awesome and an intense music lover. And, oh yes, he has surprise eyes. See, he has that certain disposition that the youngest Jonas brother has where his eyes seem to be in a permanent squint, but when I actually looked at his eyes, they were this deep, sparkly blue.
Weird, huh?

Eureka!

So I told you I couldn't find the moon. And I still can't.
BUT.
I have figured out why.
See, I can't see the whole friggin' sky on any given day. Hell, no one can.
Duhhh.
I was so stupid to think that I was going to see the moon every single night without fail. I mean, I have a limited view from my little backyard.

So I've taken another lesson from this:
The moon is most definitely like God. And NOT that it is a God-like figure, but that its characteristics can seem similar. Of course God is greater.
But.
The moon is there. We know it's there, and we look for it. And most of the time, yeah, we see it. There are times when we know we won't be able to see it, and so we don't expect to see it there, but we still know it's there. And there are times when, suddenly, it's not visible to us. We panic and wonder where it could be and what could have possibly happened to it, but then, we remember--it's always there, and is never going to fully disappear; we just may not see it at that given point in time.
So, too, with God.

Where is it?!

I can't find the moon.
No, really.
I can't find it.
Last night and the night before, I went outside to take out the garbage, and I looked all around the sky--it was nowhere.
There were hardly any clouds, and they were very thin and wispy, but I could see no moon behind them. My backyard was not lit up by moonlight like it was on Wednesday night.
It was just gone.
And it's not even the end of the cycle! It's the middle of the lunar month!
Where has it gone?
Where could it have possibly gone?

Details in the Fabric.

I named my blog after the song, I have talked about the song, and yet I have not discussed just why this song is so imperative to my existence.
To my understanding, Jason Mraz uses fabric as a metaphor for life.

Calm down, deep breaths
And get yourself dressed
Instead of running around
And pulling all your threads
And breaking yourself up

As in, get on with your life; dress yourself in that fabric, that's what it's there for. Don't start pulling it apart just because there's a little snag.

If it's a broken part, replace it
If it's a broken arm, then brace it
If it's a broken heart, then face it

Everything in our life is going to break sometime--and each one has its solution. There is no problem that just stays a problem, and it's up to you to replace the broken part, brace that broken arm, or face that broken heart.

Hold your own, know your name, go your own way.
And everything will be fine.

You are in control of your life. Don't let anyone tell you who to be or what to do, and stand up for what you think is right.
And everything will be fine.

All the details in the fabric
Are the things that make you panic
Are your thoughts results of static cling
Are the things that make you blow
Hell, no reason, go on and scream
If you're shocked it's just the fault of faulty manufacturing

The little nitpicky things in life, the things that make you panic, are all results of clinging to other people's ideas and not just going in your own direction. And if they frustrate you once in a while, let it out, don't suppress your emotion. And if your emotional breakdown is actually traumatic and bad for your health, well, your life was pretty messed up to begin with, and it's not really your fault...

Everything will be fine
Everything, in no time at all
Hearts will hold...

People will understand. You don't always have to be your composed self.
Everything will be fine.

A night of Random Inspiration part 2

I have become obsessed with the moon.
I know that sounds really strange, but it's true.
Whenever I go outside at night to take out the garbage, I just kinda stare at it for a couple of minutes and wonder why it's so pretty and bright.
So tonight, I kept going in and out of my parents' house, which has this great view of the moon in the backyard. Sometimes, it'd be there in full view, shining bright white through the freshly cleared sky. Other times, it would be completely obstructed by a cloud, but I'd still see a faint white glow around the edge of the cloud that was blocking it, letting me know that although I couldn't see it, my moon was still there.
Of course, this is like God, and we all knew I was heading down that road.
But there's another thing to it.
So how do I know that the moon is still there? For all I know it could've just disappeared, says the supercynic!
But I see the stars. I see the dark night sky, and I see the bright white light radiating off of all the clouds. So the moon must still be there. And, sure enough, it is.
Just because we don't see something right away doesn't mean we can't figure out that it's there due to its surroundings.
Not everything is in our field of vision.

A night of Random Inspiration

Wow. Do I have a lot to say tonight.
I spent all day with my mother, so when that happens, I learn a lot of lessons.
So here goes...

I had to head out to the garage with my sister as part of helping our mom with spring cleaning. My sister yelled into the house, "Where's the light?" I started heading for the light switch, while my mom starting going on about how there wasn't any, and how she'd wanted the Handyman to fix it, and oh, no, what are we going to do? Then she called out, "The switch is by the door! We need to fix it!" I then switched on the light, looked at her quizzically, and said, "It works fine." And she went quiet.
It's weird, because things like this happen a lot in my life that I totally didn't realize until I switched on the light.
See, growing up, if I screwed up or didn't know how to do something quite right, my mother would make a big fuss about it and wonder how someone else could possibly fix it, because it was such a big issue! And then I'd come right up behind her and do it right, and she'd be absolutely stunned.
No trust in even turning on a light.
I could try and word it all poetically right now, but really, it all boils down to this:
Just trust people.
Especially when they're trustworthy.
And super-especially when it's something really dumb, like turning on a freaking light.

I am not a spoiled brat

I know I am not a spoiled brat because I do not always get what I want. In fact, I rarely get what I want.
Because right now, all I want is this one guy.
See, he's not the average hot guy, or the cute-funny-smart one. I'm not dying to jump in his pants at all. I just want to know him; to be his best friend, the one he always turns to, you know?
He's not even that tall and he's average-looking. (Although he does have a killer smile and pretty eyes.)
He's not a genius, but he's wise beyond his years.
He doesn't believe in "getting girls" for the street cred.
He's the only male I personally know who's never been kissed at this age, which says something about him (and it's not that he's sexually repressed because he IS NOT).
He actually likes talking to me. Every single time I talk to him. Not many people are like that in this world, I tell you.
He does not worship the ground Barack Obama walks on, and yet still respects him, even if he doesn't agree wholeheartedly. (Hard to find where I am.)
In fact, he doesn't like talking politics. Hallelujah. Only smart kid I know who doesn't want to talk politics.
He's so humble that he doesn't even flaunt these qualities to make friends with nice people; this is just how he is.
He loves music just as much as I do if not more.
He doesn't judge me. Ever.
I used to wish for one guy to prove to me that they're not all the same, and he did it.
And now all I want is him.
But I can't have him.

You can't always get what you want, but if you look sometime, you just might find you get what you need.
~the Rolling Stones

the Ultimate Plan

I have been trying since January to get together with some of my long distance friends, and it never works out.
Ever.
I have counted a total of 5 times where it hasn't worked out. And, ironically enough, two of those times were because I was too busy serving God to go and meet with them.
So, naturally, I think God is involved.
I mean, honestly, how else would all my plans be crushed every single friggin' time?
Or maybe I'm just supposed to only be able to meet up with them when I'm completely independent from my family. I have no idea.
All I know is that God is planning something for me and that everything is for the best. (Say I as I blow my top with rage and let the fear of missing out eat at my insides.)
Optimism is good for your health sometimes.
I believe I said that already. But it's too true.

Life is unfair.

You'll just keep hoping things will turn out great, or even just good, and when they turn out completely wrong, you get totally pissed. But really, it's all because, well, life is unfair. We need to get used to it.
And it's really freaking difficult.
But as someone pretty damn wise once said, everything turns out right in the end, so if it's not right, it's not the end.
Optimism is good for your health sometimes.

To Be With You

This boy is so inspirational...
Just look at the passion in his eyes, on his face.
Man.

Assume = ass + u + me

You know that girl.
Hell, you gave birth to her. You raised her.
Therefore, that must mean that you are responsible for what she is today.
Because if you raised her, that means she learned absolutely everything from you, and therefore is a reflection of you and ONLY you.
You also know everything she wants and needs.
Yes, everything.
This is because you gave birth to her, and you raised her, and are responsible for how she is today.
Therefore, you know exactly how to take care of her. She was put into your hands by God, and so keep her in your hands you shall.
And that's the logical mantra of being a mother.

You know that girl.
Hell, you gave birth to her. You raised her.
Therefore, that must mean that you are responsible for what she is today.
The problem is that what she is today is a free-spirited, thoughtful artist type who likes to be happy.
This isn't right.
And you know what's right.
Because you know exactly how to take care of her, seeing as you raised her.
So you're going to do something about it.

She's not doing everything you've told her to.
To be fair, not everything you said was easy to do, but still.
You're her mother.
She should be listening.
She should be remembering everything you say. What's up with this forgetfulness?
She should be doing everything with a smile. Why does she get so bitter when you ask her to switch the laundry loads? She's getting older. You shouldn't have to do the laundry as much anymore. She's perfectly capable.
She should be doing well in school. She's a genius. She started reading at three years old. Why is she just doing okay? It's all this artsy stuff, you say.
She's just not like you.
She should be like you.
You gave birth to her, you raised her, and you are responsible for her character.
Therefore, she should be like you. You're the perfect example.

You've had it with that girl.
She doesn't agree with you.
She wants to study music. In your world, that's a paradox.
You want her to go to your idea of the perfect university. After all, she got in. She tells you that it's really not hard at all; that she's waiting for her idea of the perfect college to let her in.
What is this nonsense?! Why does she only want this college? Clearly, it's not right for her. You don't think it is. Therefore, it's not.
You ban her from going to her favorite college. It's just the right thing to do. So she gets upset. You don't know how she could possibly be so upset; your idea is better anyway. She hasn't even been showing any effort.
She tells you she has been trying; not as hard as she'd like to, but she is trying. You think she's lying. You haven't seen any of this supposed effort. And you know everything about her.
After all, you gave birth to her; you raised her.
Why would she dare to keep anything from you?


You didn't know that girl.
All this time you thought you did, but you didn't know her at all.
The only thing you can think is how?!
How could she possibly be your polar opposite?
You gave birth to her. You raised her. She is you! That's how the logic goes! What's wrong with this picture?!?!

The thing that's wrong with this picture is that mother-daughter relationships are not logical.
Solutions to issues are logical.
Answers to math problems are logical.
This is not a math problem.
This is not "an issue".
This is your relationship with your daughter.
This is real life.
Her mind does not work the same way yours does and never will. So if you can't understand her actions, that's okay. It's not going to be easy to wrap your mind around, but you have to be caring and loving and show her the proper way to do things.

If you'd just look at yourself from any other angle, you'd see that you're not as perfect as you think you are.
You'd realize that just paying for things after typing all day and dealing with some guy who's kind of psycho does not entitle you to then lie in bed and be waited on hand and foot, even by your incapacitated husband.
You'd realize that you put so much pressure on your kids for simply wanting them to have the best; that all you really want are some bragging rights.
Hell, you'd realize that your entire life's goal is to be the ultimate name-dropper.
You'd realize that you're not always right, and when you're not, you never apologize or take the blame; it's not them who do those things, it's you. When your husband doesn't apologize, it's because he has nothing to apologize for. When he puts the blame on you, it is because you're to blame.
You'd realize that you actually have faults! Yes, you!

You'd also realize that while you may be a "grown-up", you have certainly not grown up.

Selfishness is like people.

It comes in all different shapes and sizes.
It can be good and it can be seriously evil.
You will never truly know it unless it's yours.

Remember when I made that post about everything being selfish?
Well, selfishness comes on many different levels.
And I didn't elaborate on that.
And I really, really, REALLY should have.

So here's the deal.
We all ultimately are pulled by our own emotions, which makes us selfish.
As in, we really want those last two pieces of bread for a random sandwich, but our sister didn't have lunch yet and we did, so we give her the bread, which we think is selfless, but then all of a sudden we feel this happy, brewing, bubbly feeling and realize that we did it for the happiness that comes from being nice.
That's the good side of being selfish.
The bad side is the one we all know and totally hate.
Like when both you and your roommate oversleep and wake up at 7:20. You have to be at work at 7:45 and you have to take a 10-minute walk to get there, while she has someone picking her up at 7:30. Basically, she has five less minutes than you do, but you both have to rush regardless. Usually, when you both are in a serious rush, you do everything you can to help each other. But this roommate is seriously anal. She just keeps telling you to get out of her way while explaining during her entire 10-minute rush why it's more important that she be ready first. So you're left to brush your teeth out in the hallway while she takes a crap, have to wait two whole minutes for her to be finished stealing your brush, are pushed away from washing your hands in the sink after peeing so she can rinse her face off, and are consequently five minutes late, while she makes it to her carpool right on time.
This happened to me today, in case you couldn't tell.
And it's not the first time.

People have to really watch it when they're being selfish. It's oh-so-nice when you tell others how you want to be a doctor when you're older so you can save lives and then they all go and fawn over you, but let's face it, we know you want the money. And that's what people do everyday--they smile and wave and say good morning, but let's face it, we know they just want to be praised. Because they just go back to being assholes behind closed doors.

Cleaning up the mess -- book quote

When I was a little girl (and, okay, also when I was a not-so-little girl), my mother would put me in my room and tell me I was not to come out until it was tidy. She would close the door tightly behind her, and I would look around at the enormous mess that had piled up, not knowing where to begin.
An hour later, she would look in and discover that I was reading a book. "Evangeline!" she would scold. "You haven't done a thing to clean up this mess!" She would then heave a big sigh and say, "Sort out the clothes. Put away the ones that aren't dirty, make a pile of the ones that are."
Off she'd go again, and because it's much simpler to have your mother wash, dry, fold, and put away your clothes than it is to sort them and put away the clean ones, I'd make a giant pile of all the clothes and get back to reading my book.
"These were all dirty? Really?" she'd ask, but then she'd focus on the next phase. "Now pick up all your papers. Go through them, decide what you want to keep and what you want to throw away."
Step by step she'd walk me through the process of tidying my room until we'd be down to a heap that neither of us quite knew what to do with. "Well," she'd finally say, "it won't go away on its own."
So we'd tackle the final heap. And some of the things that I'd elect to throw away she (in moments of sentimental weakness) would fish back out of the trash sack, finding remote places for them in my room.
Other things she'd be desperate to get rid of but I'd tug-o'-war for, saying how I would never-ever-ever in a million years part with it.
I'm better now at sorting, cleaning, folding, and putting away. What I have yet to conquer, however, is what to do with the final heap. How do you sort the treasure from the trash? When does something move from sentimental to disposable? And if you think you are ready to part with it, are you really? If you throw it away today, will you regret it tomorrow? Or will it be something you never think about again?

~Confessions of a Serial Kisser, Wendelin van Draanen

Individual lives = individual worlds

It's kind of funny that the word "individual" literally means "one who cannot be divided".
Which is probably why we like to use the word "human" more. Or "person".
Anyway.
A few years ago, I took to people watching.
Everyone always asks, "How is people watching different from just walking by people everyday and sort of staring at them to creep them out?"
The difference is that you acknowledge that each person you pass by is an individual with their own story, their own life, their own world, really.
My favorite people-watching story just happened last Friday.
I was walking to a nearby elementary school like I do every Friday to just kind of hang out with the kids as charity work when I saw this dude angrily throwing backpacks and stuff out of his car and onto the sidewalk. The car wasn't moving, it was parked, but he was definitely pissed.
Most people would walk by this guy thinking something along the lines of these:
"Okay, really? He needs to not get mad on the street."
"Dude, seriously. I almost stepped on your backpack. Watch it."
"It's finally sunny out! Why so pissy?"
"Someone's constipated...!"
But I envisioned myself in his shoes.
I noticed the woman walking out of the house behind him and into her way-fancier-than-his car give him a dirty look.
And I thought, man, this guy for sure just got dumped. He probably wasn't all that well-off, and now the girl's gotten tired of him and realizes what a good-for-nothing he is (or so she thinks) and wants him out. So he's now pissily unloading his things/loading them in and just not able to do it right because he has to go build his life all over again.
And then I come back into my own reality.
And I think, dang, I am just SO lucky to be listening happily to Ernie Halter on my iPod and able to walk the streets in a relaxed manner.
And I just get so creeped out by the fact that my life doesn't matter at all in his; that he doesn't even know I passed by randomly on the street that day and totally contemplated what his life's all about. Because his life is going on. And it does not include me at all.
Not that I didn't discover this after the first person I watched.
It's just that each feeling is its own; like wow, I just discovered a new world.
This guy just happened to be the most obvious how-can-you-not case, and yet I seemed to be the only one noticing. But the best part is that I don't even know that. There could have been some other girl or guy looking on from one of the windows in the numerous apartment buildings that were lined up all down the street or one of the houses. I don't know that. Because my life is completely detached from theirs.
I think everyone should people-watch; I think everyone should get that rude awakening of how the world really doesn't revolve around them, how it's all in perspective.
I mean, Copernicus realized that just because we're the ones who live on Earth doesn't mean that we're the main event or center of it all in the solar system.
It's about time that each person realizes that just because they live their life and see life through their eyes doesn't mean that they're the main event or center of it all in the grand scheme of life.

Oh, those politics.

My friend once said a very smart thing: the word "politics" could be interpreted as having the prefix "poly-", meaning "many", and then there's the root of "tics", meaning "blood-sucking parasites". So politics = many blood-sucking parasites. Works, no? xD
So here's the thing: everyone's either "liberal" or "conservative", or "crazy"; respectively, Republican or Democrat, or some independent party. Everyone's views are everyone's business these days.
Since I've been learning more extensively about the American government these days, I realized that in the actual government, these liberals and conservatives, Democrats and Republicans, will also have their clashes.
I've been reading about the different forms of federalism we've had over the years, and the most recent development happened after 9/11 with the Patriot Act and stuff. After I read about what it was (the government being able to take aside anyone they suspect is a terrorist), I thought that there was no way everyone could have agreed on this. Liberals would have said that it's politically incorrect to stop just about anyone; they might be hurt by the fact that you said they look like a terrorist, and lots of racial profiling would ensue. Conservaties probably argued that it's necessary for the nation's safety, and are we really willing to let a potential terrorist pass by just because we did not want to hurt his feelings? (Which would be why the Patriot Act was passed.)
And it's kind of weird, because now that I think about it, my personality type would so be liberal, but I'm more middle of the road (with a bit of a conservative tendency).
See, here's the thing: I always worry about how people will feel and what people think and how the outcome is going to be just from the trail of emotions that would ensue. But at the same time, I know what's realistic, you know? Because not everyone is going to be happy all the time, but they'll eventually get over it, unless they're hopelessly stubborn and haven't grown up since they were 12.
So this is why I'm an emotional artist-type and yet more conservative. Thought I'd share. Not everything we think of is feasible; liberals and conservatives actually have the same ideas sometimes--liberals just want it NOW, while conservatives are taking realistic steps to get there.
In my opinion.

(Just in case anyone replies: "Conservatives are ____" (fill in the blank with anything negative) is not a valid argument.)

You don't know everything.

No one does. We're only human. Just as God holds the mysteries of the universe, each person has their own way of working and their own thoughts, and not everyone else has to understand them.
See, I can be forgetful at times. I have a seriously sharp memory; chances are if I don't remember it, it didn't happen to me. But when it comes to people telling me to do things or having to remember specific ideas, it's not so easy. I do have A.D.D., so when I am told one thing after the other, I get distracted doing one and then get carried away... you know how the story goes.
So apparently, I was supposed to call someone this week. My parents kept nagging me about it, but, you know, they're my parents. I don't really put their instructions in the forefront of my mind when I have to remember things that pertain to my being alive, so I kind of let it fall by the wayside.
The problem, though, is that this happens quite often; I get really busy and forget to do what my parents tell me to do. So today, my dad got pretty fed up with it.
"I don't understand how you can just forget to call her," he said. "Why is it so hard to remember? Or set a reminder in your phone? Or write it down? Something!"
"Well," I told him, "believe it or not, I do have other things I need to remember that take precedence. And my phone's reminder system stinks; it's not meant to be an organizer at all. And write it down?! Where? I'd lose the paper in two seconds."
At this point, my dad got really frustrated. I told him I didn't understand; he also has memory issues. Not like Alzheimer's or anything--he's not that old--but the same kind of issues that I have. So I thought that he, of all people, would understand. But no. He kept going on about how I need to "fix it".
I kept telling him that it's just me, and there's not much to do about it; that I just get distracted a lot of the time or have more important things to worry about, but he would have none of it.
"I'm sorry," I told him, "but my brain is not just some broken part I can fix."
Out of frustration, he went, "Yes. It is. It's broken. FIX IT."
After that, I marched out, fuming. My brain is not a broken part, or even a broken arm/limb. I think since it's just a vital organ, I have to face it, like the broken heart. And so does everyone else. But, apparently, since it's just "unfathomable", my parents don't want to face it.

Just because you don't understand what's going through someone's head does NOT mean that there's something to "fix". I really don't understand why I know that and my parents, who are way older than I am and therefore supposedly wiser, do not.