In Grade 10, I did a play called "Voices From the High School". It was a play made up of many scenes with multiple characters, but no singular plot. It dealt with issues that high school kids face - from first love to teen pregnancy to abuse to suicide.
I played several characters at opposite ends of the spectrum. I played a girl who attempted suicide and a girl who was experiencing her very first kiss.
The boy on the other end of that first kiss was Brian Nelson. We called him Fred Savage because he looked almost exactly like the actor. He was short and cute with curly brown hair, freckles and big brown eyes with long eyelashes.
At first I wasn't sure if I was happy that Brian was cast in my first stage kiss. I think partly because I thought he was a nerd. And partly because I was scared about kissing a boy in front of an audience that would include my boyfriend, my Dad and my brothers.
I remember in rehearsals, we'd run the scene and just hug when the kissing part happened. Our director let us get away with that until about a week before opening night. She finally forced us to go somewhere private and not come back until we could run the scene with the kiss.
We went off to the backstage area to work it out. We sat across from each other and just stared and smiled and giggled. I suggested we run the scene and when we get to the kiss, we just go for it. He agreed.
We ran the scene and I could feel my heart pounding harder and harder as we approached the point where the kiss was supposed to happen. I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as possible and pursed my lips. I could feel him moving closer. I peeked through one of my eyes and saw that he had his eyes closed too. But he didn't look as scared as I probably did.
And as I watched him coming in for a landing, I realized he was going to totally miss. So I shut my eyes again.
He started to laugh when he realized his miscalculation. It was then that I knew I could trust him with it. So we tried it again. It was lightning quick, but we did it.
We went back to the group and ran the scene. The kiss happened and everyone applauded.
Opening night came and we got to our scene. As the lights came up, I felt like I had been transported to a different world. I was completely lost in the moment. I was feeling the true magic of theatre.
And then the kiss came. Brian gave me a kiss that was soft and gentle, and full of kindness and love. As we separated, I saw him, not the character anymore. He cared about me as a person to keep me safe. It took me a moment to recover and remember my next line. We finished the scene to thunderous applause.
In my whole life, I think that was one of the best kisses I've ever had. It came from a place that was true and pure and innocent.
I want that feeling again.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Double Douche Bag
Against my better judgement, I went out for drinks with Boy after work last night. As per usual, we were having a great time.
After about an hour, he asked me what I was doing for the rest of the evening. I told him I had plans to go dancing with friends, to which he had been invited but declined due to his housemate's birthday celebrations being the same night. Well, it turned out that the housemate rescheduled the festivities to the following evening. He asked me if he could still come out with me and my friends. I said sure but that the outfit he was wearing would not get him past the bouncers.
Well, he had an easy solution to the problem - shopping! We finished our drinks and headed to The Bay where in 20 minutes we had picked out a shirt, pair of pants and pair of shoes, all passing the dress code standard for the club.
We headed back to my place, where my friends were due to meet me (now us) at 8pm. Coming off the subway, it was already 8pm, so I started hurrying down the sidewalk. He saw a liquor store and said he was going in to get some pre-dancing fuel.
"Sure, just come back to the apartment when you are done."
I start motoring towards my street when he stopped me.
"Hey, gimme some smooches."
Kiss kiss, and off we went in our separate directions.
Half an hour later, after having gotten ready in record time, none of my friends had shown up yet. Boy comes back not just with liquor, but with a bouquet of flowers for me.
Awww.
He got dressed, commenting on how nice I looked. He gave me smooches and pats on the bum and all was fine dandy in my world.
My friend Leslie shows up (looking super hawt) and the three of us made our way to the club.
We met up with the rest of my friends on the sidewalk outside the club and in we went, ready for a night of super awesome fun. Boy paid my cover and bought me the first drink of the night.
We all sat, mixed, mingled, chatted and eventually started dancing. This was the first time I'd been with Boy out dancing and out with any of my friends. He was dancing real close and kissing me. It was good. Really nice and good.
He asked me what I was doing the next weekend. I mentioned I had plans to go to Nuit Blanche. He asked me if I would consider going up to the beach for the weekend to hang out with him, his sister and his mother. I told him I'd think about it. He said he'd be back, time for a smoke break. Kiss kiss, and off he went.
I went back to dancing with my friends and all was well.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock....
"Where's Boy?" Hmm, weird. He was gone for over half an hour. Everyone started looking around. And then we saw him.
We saw him dancing with a girl.
We saw him lifting the girl's arm up around his neck.
We saw his face move in very close to her face.
H.u.m.i.l.i.a.t.i.o.n.
I wanted to run out of there as fast as possible. I couldn't believe he had the nerve to do that to me, and to do that in front of my friends.
Yes, I *get* that we're not in a relationship. But for fuck's sake, he came to the club as my date!
My friend Leslie was so upset by this that she went right over and confronted him. She told him if he's going to pull shit like that, to do it where we all can't see it.
He came over to me and looked at me like I was the one who did something wrong. He couldn't understand why I was upset. He was only dancing with her, and he had no intentions of making out with her or going home with her, so what's the big deal?
Honestly? What's the big deal? WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL?! Oh I don't know. Maybe the deal is he said he wanted to spend the evening with ME? And instead he was spending his time with someone else! I think I would have been just as pissed as if he ditched me for a bunch of his guy friends who happened to be there. I asked him why he didn't just BRING THE HO OVER? She could have easily joined our very happy circle of friends.
I asked him to give me back my keys, ID and phone that he had been carrying in his pockets. He asked me why. And I told him because I believed he would be leaving with someone else that night instead of me. And also I wasn't going to stick around and continue to be made a fool of.
I told him how completely rude and NOT COOL that was and that I deserve at least an ounce of respect. And all he could do was yell, "WE'RE NOT DATING! WE'RE NOT TOGETHER! WE'RE NOT DATING!"
I got my stuff back from him and went into the bathroom to try to pull myself together. When I came out, I went back to the group and he came up to me to tell me it was he that would be leaving. I asked him not to go. He said he'd go back to my place and wait. And with that, he took off down the stairs and out the door.
After receiving that glorious gift of utter disrespect, I parked my ass in a corner of the club and sulked and cried and sulked some more. My friends continued to have as good of a time as they possibly could with angry little me bringing the dark cloud of gloom to the vicinity.
I took a cab home with Leslie and parked my sorry ass on her couch. It was then I realized that Boy had given me back everything except my phone. So I did what any girl in my position would do - pass out cold.
I woke up around 7am and was informed that Boy had called Leslie's cellphone upwards of 40 times and sent a few text messages asking her to please get me home ASAP to let him in. His laptop and house keys were at my place.
I got home at 7:30am and had to do the walk of shame into my building where he was waiting on one of the couches, talking to one of the neighbours who lived on my floor.
We got inside my place, he packed up his stuff and started making his way out the door. I asked him if we were going to talk about it. He said there was really nothing to talk about. Well, except for I'm a bitch for letting him sit outside my place for 7 hours. I told him he was the ASSHOLE who left the club. What was I supposed to do, leave my friends? If he were my boyfriend I perhaps would have considered leaving but as he's made it abundantly clear, I'm nothing to him and he's nothing to me.
And that was that. He said he'd talk to me later. Yeah. What.EV.er. Fucking douche bag.
After about an hour, he asked me what I was doing for the rest of the evening. I told him I had plans to go dancing with friends, to which he had been invited but declined due to his housemate's birthday celebrations being the same night. Well, it turned out that the housemate rescheduled the festivities to the following evening. He asked me if he could still come out with me and my friends. I said sure but that the outfit he was wearing would not get him past the bouncers.
Well, he had an easy solution to the problem - shopping! We finished our drinks and headed to The Bay where in 20 minutes we had picked out a shirt, pair of pants and pair of shoes, all passing the dress code standard for the club.
We headed back to my place, where my friends were due to meet me (now us) at 8pm. Coming off the subway, it was already 8pm, so I started hurrying down the sidewalk. He saw a liquor store and said he was going in to get some pre-dancing fuel.
"Sure, just come back to the apartment when you are done."
I start motoring towards my street when he stopped me.
"Hey, gimme some smooches."
Kiss kiss, and off we went in our separate directions.
Half an hour later, after having gotten ready in record time, none of my friends had shown up yet. Boy comes back not just with liquor, but with a bouquet of flowers for me.
Awww.
He got dressed, commenting on how nice I looked. He gave me smooches and pats on the bum and all was fine dandy in my world.
My friend Leslie shows up (looking super hawt) and the three of us made our way to the club.
We met up with the rest of my friends on the sidewalk outside the club and in we went, ready for a night of super awesome fun. Boy paid my cover and bought me the first drink of the night.
We all sat, mixed, mingled, chatted and eventually started dancing. This was the first time I'd been with Boy out dancing and out with any of my friends. He was dancing real close and kissing me. It was good. Really nice and good.
He asked me what I was doing the next weekend. I mentioned I had plans to go to Nuit Blanche. He asked me if I would consider going up to the beach for the weekend to hang out with him, his sister and his mother. I told him I'd think about it. He said he'd be back, time for a smoke break. Kiss kiss, and off he went.
I went back to dancing with my friends and all was well.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock....
"Where's Boy?" Hmm, weird. He was gone for over half an hour. Everyone started looking around. And then we saw him.
We saw him dancing with a girl.
We saw him lifting the girl's arm up around his neck.
We saw his face move in very close to her face.
H.u.m.i.l.i.a.t.i.o.n.
I wanted to run out of there as fast as possible. I couldn't believe he had the nerve to do that to me, and to do that in front of my friends.
Yes, I *get* that we're not in a relationship. But for fuck's sake, he came to the club as my date!
My friend Leslie was so upset by this that she went right over and confronted him. She told him if he's going to pull shit like that, to do it where we all can't see it.
He came over to me and looked at me like I was the one who did something wrong. He couldn't understand why I was upset. He was only dancing with her, and he had no intentions of making out with her or going home with her, so what's the big deal?
Honestly? What's the big deal? WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL?! Oh I don't know. Maybe the deal is he said he wanted to spend the evening with ME? And instead he was spending his time with someone else! I think I would have been just as pissed as if he ditched me for a bunch of his guy friends who happened to be there. I asked him why he didn't just BRING THE HO OVER? She could have easily joined our very happy circle of friends.
I asked him to give me back my keys, ID and phone that he had been carrying in his pockets. He asked me why. And I told him because I believed he would be leaving with someone else that night instead of me. And also I wasn't going to stick around and continue to be made a fool of.
I told him how completely rude and NOT COOL that was and that I deserve at least an ounce of respect. And all he could do was yell, "WE'RE NOT DATING! WE'RE NOT TOGETHER! WE'RE NOT DATING!"
I got my stuff back from him and went into the bathroom to try to pull myself together. When I came out, I went back to the group and he came up to me to tell me it was he that would be leaving. I asked him not to go. He said he'd go back to my place and wait. And with that, he took off down the stairs and out the door.
After receiving that glorious gift of utter disrespect, I parked my ass in a corner of the club and sulked and cried and sulked some more. My friends continued to have as good of a time as they possibly could with angry little me bringing the dark cloud of gloom to the vicinity.
I took a cab home with Leslie and parked my sorry ass on her couch. It was then I realized that Boy had given me back everything except my phone. So I did what any girl in my position would do - pass out cold.
I woke up around 7am and was informed that Boy had called Leslie's cellphone upwards of 40 times and sent a few text messages asking her to please get me home ASAP to let him in. His laptop and house keys were at my place.
I got home at 7:30am and had to do the walk of shame into my building where he was waiting on one of the couches, talking to one of the neighbours who lived on my floor.
We got inside my place, he packed up his stuff and started making his way out the door. I asked him if we were going to talk about it. He said there was really nothing to talk about. Well, except for I'm a bitch for letting him sit outside my place for 7 hours. I told him he was the ASSHOLE who left the club. What was I supposed to do, leave my friends? If he were my boyfriend I perhaps would have considered leaving but as he's made it abundantly clear, I'm nothing to him and he's nothing to me.
And that was that. He said he'd talk to me later. Yeah. What.EV.er. Fucking douche bag.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Douche Bag
I went last night. We ate at a bar and he talked and talked and talked. I didn't say very much as I didn't want to give him the idea I was falling in love with him. I didn't try to make any physical contact either. He noticed on both counts. He kept asking me why I was quiet. He moved closer to me in our booth and linked his arm around mine.
When we got back to his place, we settled into our PJs and onto the couch to watch a movie. About 2 minutes in, he fell asleep. I woke him up about an hour later and suggested we go to bed.
And then in bed, we slept. No real kissing, not much of anything really.
Waking up this morning wasn't the greatest either. I was kissing him and he basically told me to get off. So I rolled over. He asked me if I was mad. I said no, I was just respecting his request and removing myself from his vicinity.
Parting ways for work was met with a little peck.
I think this is done.
Back to the couch and the cat...
When we got back to his place, we settled into our PJs and onto the couch to watch a movie. About 2 minutes in, he fell asleep. I woke him up about an hour later and suggested we go to bed.
And then in bed, we slept. No real kissing, not much of anything really.
Waking up this morning wasn't the greatest either. I was kissing him and he basically told me to get off. So I rolled over. He asked me if I was mad. I said no, I was just respecting his request and removing myself from his vicinity.
Parting ways for work was met with a little peck.
I think this is done.
Back to the couch and the cat...
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Don't Touch
Things have been moving along nicely with Boy. We've been spending a moderate amount of time together which is just enough for me. Fun and light which is what he wants and I am enjoying.
He asked me out for drinks last night. I said yes and was quite looking forward to it. However, as everything in my life, the moment I think everything is a-okay, it blows up in my face.
He told me last night that he doesn't want me to fall in love with him. He "sees the way I look at him", and that I am always trying to make physical contact when we are together.
As John Travolta's character Danny said in Grease, "Don't make me laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha." I laughed my fucking ass off at his arrogance and obvious narcissism. I got down on the floor of the pub and laid flat on my back laughing as loud as possible.
I made it very clear that although he may think I'm giving him googly eyes, it is in fact that I'm simply making eye contact because I treat the people I'm boinking with respect. Shocking! I care just enough to acknowledge the fact that he's a human being and not just a piece of meat.
Along the same vein, reaching out to touch his hand is saying, "Hey, I know you're a person with feelings, and I just want you to know that even though this isn't ever going to go anywhere, I still care *just* enough to ensure that you are acknowledged and appreciated."
Hand holding & eye contact = falling in love. Who knew?
Geezus farqing Christ.
So things quickly turned for the worse and it got to the point where we were challenging each other to a fist fight outside. He's dead at recess man! You know, I'm generally a sweet girl but when someone gets up in my face, I turn evil. And I think I may have actually fought him if I hadn't stopped drinking at that point.
Eventually I started crying and I just ran away leaving him on a street corner.
He sent me a few text messages. I called him. I reamed him out some more. He apologized for making me feel like shit for showing him affection.
We had plans to hang out tonight, which he would still like to do. I'm really on the fence. Like I said in a previous post, I'm lonely. Lonely sometimes is worse than being treated like shit.
DT doesn't want me to see Boy anymore. She kept saying over and over "Please don't go!" She's rather distressed about the whole situation. It's slightly comforting to know that she cares that much.
I suppose I'll make up my mind a little later. But for now, I'm listening to some NKOTB and wallowing a bit.
He asked me out for drinks last night. I said yes and was quite looking forward to it. However, as everything in my life, the moment I think everything is a-okay, it blows up in my face.
He told me last night that he doesn't want me to fall in love with him. He "sees the way I look at him", and that I am always trying to make physical contact when we are together.
As John Travolta's character Danny said in Grease, "Don't make me laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha." I laughed my fucking ass off at his arrogance and obvious narcissism. I got down on the floor of the pub and laid flat on my back laughing as loud as possible.
I made it very clear that although he may think I'm giving him googly eyes, it is in fact that I'm simply making eye contact because I treat the people I'm boinking with respect. Shocking! I care just enough to acknowledge the fact that he's a human being and not just a piece of meat.
Along the same vein, reaching out to touch his hand is saying, "Hey, I know you're a person with feelings, and I just want you to know that even though this isn't ever going to go anywhere, I still care *just* enough to ensure that you are acknowledged and appreciated."
Hand holding & eye contact = falling in love. Who knew?
Geezus farqing Christ.
So things quickly turned for the worse and it got to the point where we were challenging each other to a fist fight outside. He's dead at recess man! You know, I'm generally a sweet girl but when someone gets up in my face, I turn evil. And I think I may have actually fought him if I hadn't stopped drinking at that point.
Eventually I started crying and I just ran away leaving him on a street corner.
He sent me a few text messages. I called him. I reamed him out some more. He apologized for making me feel like shit for showing him affection.
We had plans to hang out tonight, which he would still like to do. I'm really on the fence. Like I said in a previous post, I'm lonely. Lonely sometimes is worse than being treated like shit.
DT doesn't want me to see Boy anymore. She kept saying over and over "Please don't go!" She's rather distressed about the whole situation. It's slightly comforting to know that she cares that much.
I suppose I'll make up my mind a little later. But for now, I'm listening to some NKOTB and wallowing a bit.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Single Rider
I went to Canada's Wonderland today with my cousins who are visiting from Malta, along with my brothers and sister-in-law. In total, there were 9 of us.
Somehow, I ended up being the single rider all day long. Even when I asked to ride with either of my brothers, my sister-in-law, or any of my cousins. We'd end up shuffling around in the queue and then when we got up to the ride, I was alone.
At one point I was going to ride with my cousin's husband, when he left the queue feeling queasy. I'm such a man-repeller that I make them wanna puke.
Normally I wouldn't take such offense to the signs that say "Single Riders Keep Left". I don't think the staff at Wonderland ever took into consideration that some of their audience would in fact be heart-brokenly single.
I rode Behemoth three times in a row. The first time, I hung on for dear life. The second time, my arms were up. The third time, my arms and legs were up and out and loose. I soared up and down with the powerful but graceful momentum of the coaster. I prayed that gravity would suck me out of my seat and I would fly away to quiet oblivion.
No such luck.
Perhaps if Boy hadn't told me he didn't want a serious girlfriend *and* blown me off for drinks, I wouldn't have been so upset.
Somehow, I ended up being the single rider all day long. Even when I asked to ride with either of my brothers, my sister-in-law, or any of my cousins. We'd end up shuffling around in the queue and then when we got up to the ride, I was alone.
At one point I was going to ride with my cousin's husband, when he left the queue feeling queasy. I'm such a man-repeller that I make them wanna puke.
Normally I wouldn't take such offense to the signs that say "Single Riders Keep Left". I don't think the staff at Wonderland ever took into consideration that some of their audience would in fact be heart-brokenly single.
I rode Behemoth three times in a row. The first time, I hung on for dear life. The second time, my arms were up. The third time, my arms and legs were up and out and loose. I soared up and down with the powerful but graceful momentum of the coaster. I prayed that gravity would suck me out of my seat and I would fly away to quiet oblivion.
No such luck.
Perhaps if Boy hadn't told me he didn't want a serious girlfriend *and* blown me off for drinks, I wouldn't have been so upset.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Oui
Boy asked me out for drinks a while ago.
"Just so you know, this isn't a date. You're not even my type."
Huh. Okay. I declined as I had a previous commitment.
Boy asked me out for drinks again more recently. I agreed. We drank (a lot) and discussed our love lives, or lack thereof.
Boy and I went to a party even more recently. Boy came home with me very drunk.
"For what it's worth, I thought you were really hot the first time I saw you. I knew I wanted to do you."
Huh. Okay.
I guess the idiotic and conflicting comments weren't enough to stop me from having sex with him. Which begs the question - am I *that* lonely?
Yes.
"Just so you know, this isn't a date. You're not even my type."
Huh. Okay. I declined as I had a previous commitment.
Boy asked me out for drinks again more recently. I agreed. We drank (a lot) and discussed our love lives, or lack thereof.
Boy and I went to a party even more recently. Boy came home with me very drunk.
"For what it's worth, I thought you were really hot the first time I saw you. I knew I wanted to do you."
Huh. Okay.
I guess the idiotic and conflicting comments weren't enough to stop me from having sex with him. Which begs the question - am I *that* lonely?
Yes.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Mean Queen
I just got home from a gig with my band. We played a dive in Oshawa. As much as I like the owner of the bar, the fact is that it's filled with the city's finest in white trash.
So we were rocking along when all of a sudden, this guy appears on the dance floor. He was cutting rug like nothing I've ever seen before. I was silently thinking perhaps I should call 911 as it quite looked like he was convulsing, but seeing as he didn't hit the bricks, I figured it was just his own very unique dance style.
We finished our set and sat down for a break, and he came over and started chatting. Within two seconds, it was clear that he was interested in men. And within three seconds, it was clear he was rude as shit because he did not once acknowledge my presence. I've had some pretty awesome luck this week with men ignoring me.
He tried to buy us a round of drinks. (We declined.) He tried to offer mowing the guys' lawns. (They declined.) When he finally figured out that no one was interested, he decided to change tactics. If you can't join 'em, insult 'em!
We went back up for our last set and he continued his convulsions. In between, he'd shout something at various band members. At the end of one song, he walked right up to my face and asked me when I started singing. I said, "Before I could really talk." To which he replied, "I guess there's no chance of you getting better."
I should have punched that fucking bitch in the box.
I am really sick of men. Even gay men.
So we were rocking along when all of a sudden, this guy appears on the dance floor. He was cutting rug like nothing I've ever seen before. I was silently thinking perhaps I should call 911 as it quite looked like he was convulsing, but seeing as he didn't hit the bricks, I figured it was just his own very unique dance style.
We finished our set and sat down for a break, and he came over and started chatting. Within two seconds, it was clear that he was interested in men. And within three seconds, it was clear he was rude as shit because he did not once acknowledge my presence. I've had some pretty awesome luck this week with men ignoring me.
He tried to buy us a round of drinks. (We declined.) He tried to offer mowing the guys' lawns. (They declined.) When he finally figured out that no one was interested, he decided to change tactics. If you can't join 'em, insult 'em!
We went back up for our last set and he continued his convulsions. In between, he'd shout something at various band members. At the end of one song, he walked right up to my face and asked me when I started singing. I said, "Before I could really talk." To which he replied, "I guess there's no chance of you getting better."
I should have punched that fucking bitch in the box.
I am really sick of men. Even gay men.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Quiz? No
I went to Quiznos for lunch yesterday. I walked in and the place was packed. And as I looked around for a seat, I noticed that absolutely everyone there was male.
Every last one of them. All ages and shapes and sizes. All MEN.
And not one of them gave me a second glance.
I almost started laughing out loud. But I kept it inside my head. To borrow a line from Hairspray, I could have done a fan dance with a lettuce leaf and no one would have noticed.
This situation exactly illustrates why it's so damn hard for me to find anyone. For some reason, I manage to slip into a pocket of invisibility. Or I'm projecting a huge FU all of the time. Which I don't think I'm doing. My friend John said that I project the vibe that I'm already taken. That observation I totally don't get.
At any rate, it was rather interesting sitting in a restaurant full of men and not once feeling ogled. And as much as women complain they don't want to be treated like sex objects, we all secretly love it when it does happen.
Every last one of them. All ages and shapes and sizes. All MEN.
And not one of them gave me a second glance.
I almost started laughing out loud. But I kept it inside my head. To borrow a line from Hairspray, I could have done a fan dance with a lettuce leaf and no one would have noticed.
This situation exactly illustrates why it's so damn hard for me to find anyone. For some reason, I manage to slip into a pocket of invisibility. Or I'm projecting a huge FU all of the time. Which I don't think I'm doing. My friend John said that I project the vibe that I'm already taken. That observation I totally don't get.
At any rate, it was rather interesting sitting in a restaurant full of men and not once feeling ogled. And as much as women complain they don't want to be treated like sex objects, we all secretly love it when it does happen.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Respect
I went over to a boy's house last night for dinner and a movie. As we were talking, he asked about the next time my band is playing. I told him this weekend in Oshawa. I gave him the link to my band's website, where our gigs are listed, along with bios and video.
He clicked on the video for "Love Me Like A Man" by Bonnie Raitt.
As he watched, he said, "If I was just listening, I wouldn't think this was you."
"Who do you think it would be?"
"Aretha Franklin."
Sweet. :)
He clicked on the video for "Love Me Like A Man" by Bonnie Raitt.
As he watched, he said, "If I was just listening, I wouldn't think this was you."
"Who do you think it would be?"
"Aretha Franklin."
Sweet. :)
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