Embracing What Makes You Happy

It’s really easy to get bogged down in the hassles of day to day living. Taking out the garbage, doing the dishes, wiping down the counters, folding and putting away laundry; it’s all exhausting. And while most people would give the impression that they’re really good at multitasking and getting everything done at the same time, I guarantee you that everybody has a hidden pile of laundry, or a pile of dirt somewhere that needs to be cleaned.

In navigating this new found adulthood that I’m slowly embracing, I’ve found that it’s easy to lose myself in these mundane tasks when coupled with a 9-5 job. I know, I know, there are plenty of people who do their job and maintain a household and have kids, and run businesses, but whatever, it’s hard and it takes time to learn.

So whenever I feel that I’m getting overwhelmed with these tasks, I love to unplug and do something I love and that relaxes me. And for me, that’s cooking and baking.

I fancy myself a pretty decent baker/cook. I’ve baked baby shower cakes and won a baking contest in college, and I’ve made countless pies, cakes and cookies that have won accolades at get togethers with friends and family. And I’ve thrown my fair share of dinner parties and cooked my fair share of hangover brunches for my friends after a long night of partying. With or without friends, with or without wine, and with or without Chet Baker/Miles Davis crooning in the background, cooking is one of the most relaxing things I can do.

Cooking doesn’t appeal to everyone. My mother, who is an excellent cook, doesn’t actually like cooking. She gets hot, stressed out, worried that things will be overdone or undercooked, and worries about getting everything onto the table while hot. But that’s part of the fun for me. I excel at time management and I pride myself in timing the dishes so everything is hot and ready when it’s time to eat.

Today I woke up with nothing but time, a rare thing for me on the weekends as I get antsy and like to stay busy. I’d perused Pinterest yesterday afternoon and found a few recipes to try with my new tart pan that I just got for Christmas. That, and an invitation from my friend Rachel to get together, cook, eat, and drink wine on her couch, sparked my desire to cook and bake. I made my list of ingredients and hit the road.

I stopped at World Market and bought a 43 bottle wine rack that I’d been eyeing for a while. Wine is also a passion of mine, as you’ve probably gleaned from my discussions of wine club.

After World Market I headed to the natural foods co-op and paid an incredibly ridiculous price for herbs, tomatoes and cheese. (Note to self: make tomato tarts when tomatoes are in season. Also, start an herb garden).

Then I went to Safeway and picked up the ingredients for my dessert. When I got home, I unloaded the car, got out the remaining ingredients and set to cleaning up the kitchen.

After the dishes were done I put on Pandora and got right down to work. I started with the dessert.

Dark Chocolate and Raspberry Brownies:

Ingredients:
1 Jar seedless raspberry jam
1 box Ghiradelli Dark Chocolate Brownie mix
1 pint red raspberries

Directions:
1. Follow the directions on the box (duh)
2. Place half the jar of raspberry jam into a bowl and add 1/4 cup of water. Zap in the microwave for 20 seconds to warm and thin the jam. Add it to the brownie batter and mix it in.
3. Pour batter into a greased pan and place fresh raspberries in the batter.
4. Bake according to the box or until a knife comes out clean.

After my house smelled like a delicious combination of chocolate and raspberries, I moved on to the tart. I should mention that I only recently (as in this past Thanksgiving) learned how to make pie crust and so I’m not that good at it yet. I’ve also never made a tart before, let alone a savory tart, so it was a learning experience for sure!

Tomato and Camembert Tart:

Ingredients:
Dough:
1.5 cups all purpose flour
6 Tbsp cold, unsalted butter
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp cold water

Tart:
1/4 cup dijon mustard
1/4 cup whole grain mustard
1 cup grated Gruyere cheese
1 cup sliced Camembert (I used Brie though)
4 large red tomatoes, sliced then halved
1/2 olive oil
1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley
1/4 cup fresh chopped basil
1 tsp fresh chopped rosemary
1 Tbsp fresh thyme leaves
1 small bay leaf (I skipped this ingredient because I forgot that last week I dropped all my bay leaves on the floor)
1 garlic clove

Directions:
Dough:
1. Combine flour, salt, pepper. Cut in cold butter with a pie dough cutter or food process (if you’re fancy)
2. Mix in olive oil & water and form a ball of dough
3. Flatten the dough into a disc and wrap in plastic wrap. Chill in the fridge for 30 minutes
4. Once chilled, roll out and place dough into tart pan

Tart:
1. Mix the mustards together and spread them on the bottom of the dough
2. Sprinkle the grated Gruyere over the mustard and place sliced pieces of Camembert/Brie over the Gruyere
3. Arrange tomatoes in pretty pattern (if you want)
4. In separate bowl, mix olive oil, herbs and garlic and stir together.
5. Brush oil and herbs over the tomatoes
6. Bake at 375 F for 35 minutes
7. Smell your house begin to feel like an Italian kitchen of happiness

I have yet to eat my tart as I’m waiting to take it over to Rachel’s in about 20 minutes. But my house smells amazing right now and I’ve been picking at the cheese and crust, and holy shit does this stuff taste amazing. Like I said, I’m a pretty decent cook, but nothing I’ve ever made has tasted as good as this tart. If you’re looking for something relatively easy to make (albeit with a lot of ingredients), then this is the thing for you. We’re eating it as an appetizer tonight, but one could easily make a meal out of it. I’ve got a bottle of wine ready to go and a delicious dinner of chicken and potatoes to look forward to! Can’t wait to try it all!

(Before baking)

(after baking)

(Edited for Instagram. Brownies in the background)

Namaste folks!

Saying Goodbye

What a glorious weekend it was to have all my friends and big brother come to visit me for the weekend!

Cheap Wine Club was a great success and Selena, the self-described worst cook in the world, made a delicious dinner of braised short ribs and vegetable mash with a carmelized onion and leek gravy and a kale salad with a lemon vinaigrette and a poached egg on top. Needless to say, it was absolutely delicious.

The wine tasting was also a great success- we had 6 bottles of Merlot (please, hold the Merlot jokes- we’ve all seen Sideways, and we’ve tasted almost every other major wine out there, so we’re broadening our horizons at this point). The bottles ranged from $2.99-$30 (although we didn’t know this until after the tasting) and also featured one blend. Our tastings are blind so we didn’t know which brand we were drinking or what region the wine was from. We ranked them all and after we tallied up all our points and unveiled the individual bottles, we learned that a bottle of Cupcake Merlot had won the most points. I’m proud to say however that my favorite bottle was NOT the Cupcake, but was instead the most expensive bottle. What can I say? I’m a snob.

Aside from the wine though, the weekend was a great time spent with some of my oldest friends and my brother who tagged along for the occasion. It was fun to see everyone, especially since we’re all so busy. I work full time, obviously, and Selena is in law school full time so she and I hardly see each other, even though we live together. Kyle, who lives in Fresno, goes to school full time and works part time for my dad. Amelia is completing her teaching credential, her boyfriend, Craig, works for a market research company and is super stressed out all the time. And Alex and his girlfriend are both graduate students at Fresno State and are always incredibly busy. Suffice to say we’re all busy and rarely get to see each other, so wine club is a great excuse for us all to get together and catch up and stay in touch.

Kyle stuck around for an extra night after everyone else had left, and we also had a low-key day watching eating tacos and watching football. Although truthfully it was a stressful few hours during the Niners/Seahawks game and ultimately disappointing. But oh well I suppose.

The weirdest thing about the weekend though is that, while I was sad that everyone left, I wasn’t sad in the way I normally am. Normally I get really depressed and really home sick whenever my friends/family leave after having visited. But this time was different. I wasn’t devastated like I normally am. And I think it’s another testament to the fact that I’ve moved on from my Fresno mentality.

I first noticed this when I was back home for Thanksgiving. I had a fun Thanksgiving with family, but it just wasn’t the same as years past. Normally I’m chomping at the bit to put up the Christmas tree and decorate the house for the holidays, but this year I just wasn’t feeling it. At all. In fact, I took down my mother’s Christmas decorations the day after Christmas. I just wasn’t havin’ any holiday spirit this year. Anyway, Friendsgiving, one of my favorite annual traditions with friends from Fresno, was pretty lame this year. Normally everyone drinks and eats and parties until 4 am, but this year most people left by 12:30. Most people had to go to work, or didn’t want to drink because they had to give people rides, etc. It was lackluster at best and was kind of depressing.

And then Christmas break was kind of a downer too. Sure, I got to spend time with friends and family, and that really was the highlight of my vacation, but again, it just didn’t feel like it used to. It could just be that it was 72 degrees on Christmas, while normally it’s a hell of a lot colder than that. Guess that’s what you get for trying to have a White Christmas in California. Christmas Eve was also kind of a let down. I got to see friends and family, but with my grandparents getting older and sicker, and my aunts and uncles and their kids with their own traditions, traditional Christmas Eve tamales just wasn’t as great this year. Spending Christmas Eve with my mom, grandma, and brother was actually pretty fun, but Christmas day itself was lame. I spent the morning shuffling between houses making sure I got to spend a little bit of time with all of the people in my life, and it was just exhausting.

New Years was also pretty sad. Again it was a party with Fresno friends and everyone was either going to other parties or not drinking (myself included). I was home and in bed by 1:00 (unusual for me on New Years).

By the time the holidays were over, I was 100% ready to head back to Sacramento. And one of the first things I did was take down all the Christmas stuff in my Sacramento house. Basically I was ready to put Fresno and the holidays behind me as quickly as possible.

But it was deeper than that. There’s been a significant shift in my mentality over the last few months, and several people have mentioned it to me that they’ve also noticed it. It feels good to have a life here in Sacramento without the nagging feeling that I’m missing something in Fresno. I no longer feel like I live in two different places, and that’s a huge change in my mentality, as any of my friend’s could tell you that I struggled for a long time with this idea that I was living in two places.

Like I said, Wine Club was super fun and it was great to see all my friends and my big brother. But I’m glad the weekend is over so I can get back to living my life.

Namaste.

Gym Therapy

Quick post today as I’ve got friends due any minute and a whole night of wine drinking and laughter ahead of me!

I went to my trainer’s today and it was such a great workout! The exercises were pretty standard and I’m pretty used to most of them by now. However, it was the chatting with my trainer that made the work out so great.

My trainer, Bobby, is a pretty cool guy- the uncle of an old co-worker and great-uncle to a few of my really good friends. He’s a tough old bird and doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to telling you like it is. He’ll call you out on your nonsense and instead of making you feel guilty for not being as “good” as you should have been, he asks what you can do differently and how he can help.

He’s also very soulful and philosophical and it’s probably the only time I really get to talk about philosophy, other than wine club or when I insert something into a conversation at work. Today we talked about my [other] therapist and he too encouraged me to keep seeing her and to also continue my blog.

He’s aware of my history with weight loss and dieting and he understands the psychological barriers that I face and he’s been great about helping me to over come them.

We talked a lot about existentialism today and he flat out told me “you’re going this alone.” And he’s absolutely right. I have a huge support network and I can always turn to them if I ever need anything, even financial assistance if absolutely necessary. But at the end of the day, it’s me and only me going at this thing. Even my trainer can’t do the work for me. And while I already knew this, it helped to hear this idea reiterated because as I explore my history with weight loss, it’s important to not try and place blame.

Sure, my relationship with my weight and weight loss was absolutely shaped by my parents. And while I need to address those issues and truly understand them before I can move forward, the fact remains that I’m an independent adult with control over my actions. I choose what I eat, when I eat it, whether or not I exercise and how often I exercise.

And I think it’s important to remember that my success or failure is 100% the product of the effort that I put into the process.

Namaste.

Learning Self-Care

Many people who know me would characterize me a caring person. Sure I’m sarcastic and have a very dry sense of humor. And I was raised in an environment where merciless teasing meant you truly cared for someone; the meaner the joke, the greater the affection. But when it comes down to it, I care very deeply for those around me. I’m a caretaker by nature, and I always have taken on the role of mediator/problem solver.

The earliest example of this that I can remember was when I was 10 years old. Two of my female classmates were fighting. They approached me and asked me to remedy the situation because they couldn’t find a solution to their conflict. So during recess I drew up a contract describing the dissolution of their friendship and detailing the fact that they were no longer friends. They were not to speak to each other ever again. Both girls signed the piece of paper and immediately ceased being friends (for about a week). Several days later two other girls approached me and asked that I perform the same “ceremony” for them. I refused, however, because, as I told them, their friendship was too strong to be dissolved and they needed to work out their differences. Those two girls are still friends.

My role as mediator carried on through my parents divorce. As a kid it’s hard to understand why your parents say no to certain things and yes to other things, and for my parents, money was often a motivating factor in the decisions they made. My parents were never rich and the effects of their divorce and bankruptcy left them pretty strapped for cash. But I was a young girl who absolutely NEEDED all the newest things. And so I inserted myself into my parents financial affairs. Fights about child support payments were the norm; it’s not that my dad didn’t want to support his kids. As I stated before, he was/is a great dad and always busted his ass to give my brother and I a better life than he had. But there was something about writing a check every month to his ex-wife that really got to him, and so they fought.

And because my dad was never particularly liberal with his money, I always went to my mom when I needed something. If I needed new shoes, I went to mom. If I needed money to go to the movies with friends, I went to mom. And when mom argued that she didn’t have the money to pay for my wants, I always responded with “well dad gives you money every month to support me.” Again, as a kid it’s hard to understand that paying the mortgage, buying groceries, and paying for electricity constitutes supporting your child. And so my parents argued about money. Who should pay for school clothes that year, who should pay for my class field trip to San Francisco, who should pay for my yearbook, etc.

Except my parents were incapable of talking to each other. Rather than pick up a phone and call each other, my parents argued about money through me. I suppose it was the mediator in me that stepped in. Mom and Dad can’t talk to each other? Fine, they can talk through me and I’ll deal with the emotional tumult myself. Most arguments followed the same script. I would ask my dad for money to go to the movies. “What have you done to earn the money?” he would ask. Normally my dad required that I do some sort of chore to earn my spending money. But I was young and lazy and so I would go to my mom and ask her for the money and her reply was often “go ask your father.” And then I would argue that she received child support from my father so that she could give me spending money (child’s logic). And then she and I would argue about the intent of child support and so on until finally she grew exhausted and just gave me the money that she didn’t really have.

Mom ended up paying for a lot of things.

My brother has always been quiet and introverted. He’s also incredibly intelligent and has a deep passion for computer games. They always made him happy and he always loved getting lost in make-believe worlds. Because of these characteristics, my brother took to spending hours, days at a time in his room playing computer games. It was unhealthy, we all admit it, but my parents disagreed over how to address the issue. My mother (with whom my brother lived full time) believed he needed space to grow and that he would eventually come out of his shell (which he has). My father however believed he needed to be forced to socialize. My father and I are very social people- the concept of someone not wanting to socialize is foreign to us. My mother was too lenient with my brother and my father was too strict with him. And so I inserted myself into the situation. I talked to my parents and argued with them over how to address my brother’s actions. (Side note: my brother is 4 years older than me; I’ve always been his protector). When my mom wanted to kick my brother out of the house because she was tired of him being holed up in his room, I talked her out of it by explaining that he needed his space and that his computer games was how he coped with my parents divorce. When my dad wanted to remove my brother’s bedroom door and force him to socialize, I talked him out of it by explaining that my brother was the type of person who needed privacy and space in order to grow. I was the mediator.

I frequently put others before myself, and it’s always been a pattern. In recent years this trend has shifted to my friends. Need to talk to someone about your relationship problems? I’m a great listener and give the practical advice you need. Need help setting up/cleaning up a party? No problem, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can’t hang out during the pre-arranged time? No problem, we’ll just reschedule next time I’m in town. Need to talk about your issues while I’m going through my own? No problem, I’m sure you’ll ask about me soon enough.

A prime example of this just occurred about 30 minutes ago, and thereby prompted this post. I’ve got 5 people coming to stay with me tomorrow for the weekend in order to have our monthly wine club meeting. Saturday mornings are normally when I work out with my personal trainer, but as I prepared to get into bed this evening I thought to myself, “Maybe I’ll skip my work out and stay home and tidy up the house.”

Putting others before myself and my needs has always been my pattern. And I believe I’ve suffered mentally and physically for it. The emotional legacy of being the self-appointed mediator of my family was just the beginning of the pattern that has carried on into adulthood. I continue to ignore my own needs in order to care for those around me.

But I’ve since taken steps to change this behavior. I finally began seeing a therapist this past September. It’s something I’d always considered, and something that my mom and various friends had encouraged me to try. But I believed that I was capable of handling my own issues and feelings. And for the most part, I was. I was good at self-analysis and constant internal dialogue and self-examination. But I didn’t have the tools necessary to truly understand the foundations of my thoughts, feelings and behaviors. But seeing a therapist has allowed me to better understand myself and to finally see patterns that I had been unaware of or had otherwise ignored, such as putting others before myself.

A lot of people knew I was seeing a therapist: my mom, my brother, my close friends. I didn’t tell my dad. In fact, if he’s reading this, he’s probably wondering why I hadn’t told him before he read it in a blog post. Truthfully, I still don’t quite know the answer. All I really know is that it’s a sign of the evolving nature of our relationship, which is a constant topic discussed between my therapist and myself.

As the title of this post indicates, I’ve dedicated the last few months of my life to learning self-care. I’ve started to recognize when certain situations are not beneficial for me and I’m learning how to address those situations. I’m learning to ask for what I need from people instead of taking what I get. I’m also learning how to get what I need from myself, namely in terms of exercise and healthier living. Because how can I focus on myself and what I need if I’m too busy focusing on the needs of others. I’ve often found myself so emotionally exhausted from being supportive of my friends that at the end of the day, I have no energy left for myself.

And while I pride myself on my ability to be an excellent friend, especially in times of need, I’m learning that a good friend also makes time for themselves. A good friend sets boundaries and limits and ensures that they’re their best self before tending to others.

And so I’m not going to skip my work out tomorrow to stay home and clean the house for my friends’ stay. I’m going to drive my sleepy ass to Folsom at 9:00am and work out for 2 hours and I’m going to feel just fine drinking wine with my friends around me and dust on the floors because I’ll have taken care of myself first.

Besides, with enough wine, no one will even notice the dirt.

Namaste.

Learning Self-Care

Many people who know me would characterize me as a caring person. Sure, I’m sarcastic and have a very dry sense of humor. And I was raised in an environment where merciless teasing meant you truly cared for someone; the meaner the joke, the greater the affection. But when it comes down to it, I care very deeply for those around me. I’m a caretaker by nature, and I have always taken on the role of mediator/problem solver.

The earliest example of this that I can remember was when I was 10 years old. Two of my female classmates were fighting. They approached me and asked me to remedy the situation because they couldn’t find a solution their conflict. So during recess I drew up a contract describing the dissolution of their friendship and detailing the fact that they were no longer friends. They were not to speak to each other ever again. Both girls signed paper and immediately ceased being friends (for about a week). Several days later two other girls approached me and asked that I perform the same “ceremony” for them. I refused, however, because, as I told them, their friendship was too strong to be dissolved and they needed to work out their differences. They’re still friends.

My role as mediator carried on through my parents divorce. As a kid it’s hard to understand why your parents say no to certain things and yes to other things, and for my parents, money was often a motivating factor in the decisions they made. My parents were never rich and the effects of their divorce and bankruptcy left them pretty strapped for cash. But I was a young girl who absolutely NEEDED all the newest things. And so I inserted myself into my parents financial affairs. Fights about child support payments were the norm; it’s not that my dad didn’t want to support his kids. As I stated before, he was/is a great dad and always busted his ass to give my brother and I a better life than he had. But there was something about writing a check every month to his ex-wife that really got to him, and so they fought.

And because my dad was never particularly liberal with his money, I always went to my mom when I needed something. If I needed new shoes, I went to mom. If I needed money to go to the movies with friends, I went to mom. And when mom argued that she didn’t have the money to pay for my wants, I always responded with “well dad gives you money every month to support me.” Again, as a kid it’s hard to understand that paying the mortgage, buying groceries, and paying for electricity constitutes supporting your child. And so my parents argued about money. Who should pay for school clothes that year, who should pay for my class field trip to San Francisco, who should pay for my yearbook, etc.

Except my parents were incapable of talking to each other. Rather than pick up a phone and call each other, my parents argued about money through me. I suppose it was the mediator instinct in me that actually played along. Mom and dad are incapable of talking to each other calmly? Let me step in and speak on their behalf. And most arguments followed the same script. I would ask my dad for money to go to the movies. “What have you done to earn the money?” he would ask. Normally my dad required that I do some sort of chore to earn my spending money. A fair concept, in retrospect. But I was young and lazy so I would go to my mom and ask her for the money and her reply was often “go ask your father.” And then I would argue that she received child support from my father so that she could give me spending money (child’s logic). And then she and I would argue about the intent of child support and so on until finally she grew exhausted and just gave me the money that she didn’t really have.

Mom ended up paying for a lot of things.

My brother has always been quiet and introverted. He’s also incredibly intelligent and has a deep passion for computer games. They always made him happy and he always loved getting lost in make-believe worlds. Because of these characteristics, my brother took to spending hours, days at a time in his room playing computer games. It was unhealthy, we all admit it, but my parents disagreed over how to address the issue. My mother (with whom my brother lived full time) believed he needed space to grow and that he would eventually come out of his shell (which he has). My father however believed he needed to be forced to socialize. My father and I are very social people- the concept of someone not wanting to socialize is foreign to us. My mother was too lenient with my brother and my father was too strict with him. And so I inserted myself into the situation. I talked to my parents and argued with them over how to address my brother’s actions. (Side note: my brother is 4 years older than me; I’ve always been his protector). When my mom wanted to kick my brother out of the house because she was tired of him being holed up in his room, I talked her out of it by explaining that he needed his space and that his computer games was how he coped with my parents divorce. When my dad wanted to remove my brother’s bedroom door and force him to socialize, I talked him out of it by explaining that my brother was the type of person who needed privacy and space in order to grow. I was the mediator.

I frequently put others before myself, and it’s always been a pattern. In recent years this trend has shifted to my friends. Need to talk to someone about your relationship problems? I’m a great listener and give the practical advice you need. Need help setting up/cleaning up a party? No problem, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can’t hang out during the pre-arranged time? No problem, we’ll just reschedule next time I’m in town. Need to talk about your issues while I’m going through my own? No problem, I’m sure you’ll ask about me soon enough.

A prime example of this just occurred about 30 minutes ago, and thereby prompted this post. I’ve got 5 people coming to stay with me tomorrow for the weekend in order to have our monthly wine club meeting. Saturday mornings are normally when I work out with my personal trainer, but as I prepared to get into bed this evening I thought to myself, “Maybe I’ll skip my work out and stay home and clean the house.”

Putting others before myself and my needs has always been my pattern. And I believe I’ve suffered mentally and physically for it. The emotional legacy of being the self-appointed mediator of my family was just the beginning of the pattern that has carried on into adulthood. I continue to ignore my own needs in order to care for those around me.

But I’ve since taken steps to change this behavior. I finally began seeing a therapist this past September. It’s something I’d always considered, and something that my mom and various friends had encouraged me to try. But I believed that I was capable of handling my own issues and feelings. And for the most part, I was. I was good at self-analysis and constant internal dialogue and self-examination. But I didn’t have the tools necessary to truly understand the foundations of my thoughts, feelings and behaviors. But seeing a therapist has allowed me to better understand myself and to finally see patterns that I had been unaware of or had otherwise ignored, such as putting others before myself.

A lot of people knew I was seeing a therapist: my mom, my brother, my close friends. I didn’t tell my dad. In fact, if he’s reading this, he’s probably wondering why I hadn’t told him before he read it in a blog post. Truthfully, I still don’t quite know the answer. All I really know is that it’s a sign of the evolving nature of our relationship, which is a constant topic discussed between my therapist and myself.

As the title of this post indicates, I’ve dedicated the last few months of my life to learning self-care. I’ve started to recognize when certain situations are not beneficial for me and I’m learning how to address those situations. I’m learning to ask for what I need from people instead of taking what I get. I’m also learning how to get what I need from myself, namely in terms of exercise and better living. Because how can I focus on myself and what I need if I’m too busy focusing on the needs of others. I’ve often found myself so emotionally exhausted from being supportive of my friends that at the end of the day I have no energy left for myself.

And while I pride myself on my ability to be an excellent friend, especially in times of need, I’m learning that a good friend also makes time for themselves. A good friend sets boundaries and limits and ensures that they’re their best self before tending to others.

And so I’m not going to skip my work out tomorrow to stay home and clean the house for my friends’ stay. I’m going to drive my sleepy ass to Folsom at 9:00am and work out for 2 hours and I’m going to feel just fine drinking wine with my friends around me and dust on the floors because I’ll have taken care of myself first.

Namaste.