Posts Tagged ‘spring’

You Are Seasonal

September 22, 2017

Not just one season.

Not just the brightness of summer.

The thunderstorms.

The heat.

The lushness.

Yes.

You are all these things.

And.

You are also in the whisperings of fall.

The coolness of your cheekbones

How the falling light glances off

Their planes and there.

A light flares inside me.

A bonfire of longing.

I smell you in this season too.

I sense you in the softening sweetness

Of things ripe and full.

I ripen thinking about that.

Your euphoric smell.

The plushness of your mouth.

An apple cider song.

I suspect I shall see you in all seasons.

All hours.

All days.

How I wish to see what winter light looks like

Upon you.

A snowflake soft explosion such as one cannot imagine.

Bonny boy.

And.

Oh.

Burgeoning spring.

I see you there too.

But it is right now.

In.

This moment.

This cooling of air,

That calls to me.

I wish to hold your hand and kick through

Fallen leaves with you.

To tussle to the ground.

To see your smile, your eyes alight.

I imagine your face framed in golds,

Burnished reds.

Burnt oranges.

Flaming yellows.

Richest browns.

No beauty that surpasses

The handsomeness of your face.

Only a frame to outline its glory.

Another picture I shall hang.

In the gallery.

Of.

My.

Heart.

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Give It To Me!

March 3, 2017

I was just having a moment with my lip balm container.

I love it.

It’s the best that I have found since my favorite brand stopped making my lip balm about ten years ago.

It’s by Tokyo Milk.

And it is so good.

But damn it man, the packaging is so hard to open.

I was like.

My face is cracking, open up.

Ok.

Maybe not that dramatically.

But.

I can tell some things about me are changing.

My lips get chapped faster, my hands are dry (I mean, I’m a nanny, I do wash my hands a lot, especially when handling a new born, but still, I’m definetly getting the old lady hands, age spots and all), I have laugh lines around my eyes, even though I wear sunblock every day.

I’m getting older.

As though the gum disease and the having to wear bifocals, um, excuse me, let me get politically correct, my “progressives” glasses, weren’t enough, the grey hair at the roots of my crown, the aging, it is happening.

But.

I still wear them damn flowers in my hair and I still feel often oddly childish and silly and light-hearted, I may be getting older, but I still have a wonder about the world and a curiosity and a wish to see more things and have more experiences.

Once in a while my brain tries to launch an attack, oh my God, you’re 44, what’s next?

Death.

I suppose.

A cold, hard, lonely death, boohoo.

Can you hear the tiny violin playing.

It’s in concert with Jim Croce.

That’s not the way it feels.

I didn’t bother to watch that horror show though, today.

I just rather enjoyed the red rose in my hair and the lip gloss on my lips.

I had a nice day.

I even had a half hour by myself, sort of, my charge was napping, in which I was able to make a check in phone call with my person and confirm meeting with her on Saturday at Tart to Tart, look over some defects of character and get right with God.

And.

I got to sit outside on the back porch and enjoy the sun and a hot mug of tea.

It was pretty fucking spectacular.

Shit.

I even put my phone down for a while, got off the social media and just connected with the blue skies, the warm sun, the flowers blooming in the garden, the paper whites, narcissus, in a pot, the tiny buds of jasmine just turning pink, the whir and buzz of hummingbirds in the plum blossoms.

It was exquisite.

It is Spring and it is a little warmer.

Not a lot, but enough and yes, there’s more freaking rain this weekend, but the last couple of days the sunshine on my face makes all the wrinkles fine and acceptable, what am I going to do anyway, erase my life, rub away the laughs and the adventures and the experiences.

I like how I am, most of the time I’m in acceptance about my body, my health, my age, I’m pretty fucking lucky to have gotten to this age and have the health that I have.

Ridiculous the gratitude I have for that.

I have plans for these old bones, I’m not ready to roll over any time soon.

I was talking to my boss about going to Venice at some point and I think about all the places I write about in my morning pages.

I want to go to Burning Man.

Duh.

I have the time off but haven’t found out about the ticket yet.

I will be going to Paris, so that doesn’t count, I have already gotten the ticket and I have a place to stay.

All I have to do is show up with some money for food and museum entrances, and oh a couple of Claire Fontaine notebooks and maybe a tattoo and a flea market score or three, a souvenir or two from the Marais.

Paris is a done deal.

Other places I’m contemplating are Anchorage to see my dad, Portland to see my sister and Puerto Rico to see my roots, and because I have a friend that has contract work there, he’s invited me and I’m just waiting to find out when the family will be out and off to Europe for three weeks in July.

I don’t know what their dates are yet, so I’ve been holding off on getting any forward motion on buying a plane ticket.

I still have the voucher from this past Christmas too for an air plane ticket.

I am planning on using that for Puerto Rico and then buying a one way to Anchorage and doing three days there and then a one way to Portland, get a room in some hipster hotel and drink a lot of coffee and walk around and see what the scene is like, hang out with my sister, see what the deal is like.

I’m thinking one week in Puerto Rico, then one week split between Anchorage and Portland.

Then the third week the family is gone, just chill here in the city, do some yoga, hang out.

I get ahead of myself, but it is fun to contemplate.

Better travel plan contemplation then my brain trying to play some late night B movie horror show about being single and alone.

Frankly brain.

I’d rather watch Dirty Dancing again.

Go away.

I mean, for real.

I got better things to do.

Dear God help me see what you want me to see and help me to let go of what I can.

Thanks.

I mean it.

I need all the help I can get.

The weekend is nigh and I want to have fun.

Please show me the way.

I’m open to suggestions.

Bring it on.

I’m all ears.

Seriously.

 

Making Plans

September 26, 2016

I knew I was going to say yes before she even finished asking me.

I know to say yes.

Even when there was a tiny voice in my head that said, “but what about work?”

What the fuck about it?

I have no idea where I’m going to be working in May.

Granted.

Yes.

I will have a job.

One always comes around.

For instance.

This new gig tomorrow could lead to my next job (I am still working for my current family, but I’ll be Monday with this new family).  The family is fantastic, friends of my current family, living up in Eureka Valley, on a block, is it possible?  That doesn’t have parking permit issues, meaning I can park my scooter on the street without having to worry about moving it.

The 20 month old is delicious.

And.

Oh.

Wait.

For.

It.

She takes two-hour naps.

Bless you little girl.

I am so excited for two hours naps and parents that don’t work from home.

I got the impression that there will be some overlap occasionally, that one of the parents will be there, but for the most part it will be me and the 20 month old for six hours and then a mixture of the two other brothers.

Both of whom are in school.

This gig starts this Monday and will be every Monday until December 12th.

I am thinking at that time I will have secured my next gig, whatever that will be.

I may also take a little time off at that time, give myself a week or so to let myself have a few days off to acclimate and transition.

Plus.

I’ll be thick into my final papers for the semester.

But.

I’m also thinking further ahead.

All the way to May.

Yeah.

Like that.

Because today I was asked if I wanted to go on a trip to France in May.

Of course I said yes.

Duh.

I already have looked for tickets.

I know better than to not say yes.

Especially when I was told that I would have all my housing covered.

I would stay with my friend and her family.

She won’t be as available to me as if we were really going on holiday together, she’ll be studying for her exams in France, but I was like.

WHATEVER.

She’s my dear friend.

I love her.

Of course I’m going to say yes.

Besides.

Hello.

FRANCE.

Yes, please.

We would actually go to a few places, not just Paris, take the TGV to Provence, for instance and to the seaside.

Oh yes, I don’t care where I’m working, I can make that work.

Plus, I’ll have a little more financial aid that will come into my pocket come Spring semester.

After my disbursement was made, paying for my summer classes, retreat (intensive, it was an intensive), and my current semester I received $675.

Which you know.

Means working as much as I can to cover the rest of my costs, because that’s basically a half month of rent.

No food.

No phone.

No gas for the scooter.

No insurance.

Definitely no yoga.

Just some money toward 1/2 a month of rent.

I remember laughing to myself when my current employer asked if I would still want to work when I won the scholarship I was awarded.

Um.

Yeah.

I have to.

I live in San Francisco.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t save a for a ten-day jaunt to France.

I can fucking well do that, especially if I don’t have to worry about the cost of hotels and places to stay.

Plus, South of France in May?

Of course I said yes.

I am still saying yes.

I have no clue how it will work out, but I told my friend I knew it would and yes, what a perfect way to cap off the end of the second year of school with a trip with one of my dearest to France.

I’d still fly into Paris, and probably from Paris too.

The TGV, the bullet train, will get me to and from really quick and it’s super affordable.

God.

I am so excited.

This will definitely be a different trip for me than the last time I went to Paris.

First, it will be in Spring.

I haven’t been in Paris in Spring in a while.

It really is the best time to go.

And then to the South of France, in warm weather, all my sundresses are longing to be donned, all my sandals ready to be buckled around my ankles.

Fields of lavender.

The sea-side.

The pool with deck chairs.

Oh goodness.

Such deliciousness awaits, strolls with my friend in the dusk, after dinner when she ends her day of study.

Farmer’s markets, flower markets, and I’m sure I’ll stumble upon some art.

I usually manage.

Second.

It will not be with a man who I am in an unrequited love relationship with.

Nope.

No thank you.

I was deleting some files earlier and stumbled across a section of photos of the two of us in LA last summer and my heart banged around in my chest and I felt some sorrow, a sweep of sadness.

I deleted some of them, but I kept the majority.

I don’t have to wallow in something that never came to fruition, but there was love there and to be reminded of having been loved and having loved another, is a great blessing, even if it was a painful experience.

My.

Oh.

Fucking.

My.

How I did grow.

So.

Yes.

Yes, please, another experience with my dearest Paris.

And my first time going to Provence.

I have been to the South of France, Toulouse, to be exact, but not since 2002 and it was just three days and well, I was tipping back the cocktails a wee bit, so my experience I dare say this time around will be much sweeter, happier, and joyful.

I knew I was going to be going back to France again, I just wasn’t expecting the conversation to pop up today.

How glad I am it did.

It colored everything with delight.

My sweet, sweet life.

Ma vie en rose.

(My life in the pink)

How lucky am I?

Luckiest girl in the world.

Seriously.

 

Hello Monday

March 8, 2016

Let’s be friends.

It started out well.

I woke up and went back to sleep.

That helps.

Sometimes I wake up and I am awake, I can’t go back to sleep, the brain is too busy, the mind has had an espresso without telling me and has finished the New York Times crossword puzzle in black ink and is impatient for me to see its plans.

Today.

I woke up a half hour before my alarm and said, no, rest, let your body rest.

I was planning on going to yoga anyhow and my body does need some rest.

I can feel that I have gotten a lot already, so much really, from the practice that I could get compulsive about it, but I don’t want to be unbalanced.

That being said, yes, I did go today.

I won’t be going tomorrow and it’s unlikely that I will on Wednesday either, those are my two days that are challenging.

Thursday I will and then Friday, Saturday, Sunday, I’m in school.

Yup.

It’s my third weekend back.

Which is also why I won’t be going to yoga tomorrow morning before work, I need to finish up my reading and also proofing my papers and making sure they are formatted correctly.

One of my cohort got a hold of me and also mentioned that I better re-check the paper parameters for one of our classes.

And fuck.

She was right.

The format for the paper was different than I had written.

Ie, I hadn’t used the correct spacing for the paragraphs.

Re-adjusted it before heading out to work today.

I had enough time after yoga to hop into the shower, pop into some cute clothes, make up my face, fix the hair, not that it really was going to be performing after getting scrunched under my helmet–yay for a break in the rain!  I was able to take my scooter in to work today.

It doesn’t look good for the rest of the week.

Not at all.

I will most likely be taking cars, I’m not interested in riding my bicycle or my scooter in the kind of rain that has been dumping down.

I would be wet most the day and also, it’s just dangerous when it gets too blustery.

I’d rather be alive with a few less dollars in my pocket.

It will rather blow having to take a car into school, it’s so much nicer when I can scooter in, but again, it’s the showing up that’s the most important.

Just keep showing up.

To the yoga mat.

To the notebook.

To the text book.

To do the deal.

It was great to see my fellows tonight and have a chat with a few friends and re-connect.

Really grateful for connection, and commitments, for contact with people I care about and love.

I get to see one of my people tomorrow and that is always such a good feeling, a little sitting down in a cafe doing the deal and getting down to brass tacks.

Getting perspective.

I actually had a lot of perspective just from going to yoga class.

Seeing how much better I have gotten in just ten classes is pretty amazing.

I’ve gotten my new mat too, super non-slip grip and nice and thick.

It’s amazing.

My feet stick like glue to it, well, not always, I do wobble a lot still in certain poses, but again, today, I stuck a pose that I have not been able to do yet–side plank with one arm down and one arm up in the air.

Holy shit.

That’s a work out.

We did a lot of core work today and as per my body’s demands, I ate a lot of kale salad today.

However.

I think I may have kale’d myself out for a little while.

I got through half of my dinner salad and I wasn’t feeling it anymore.

I wrapped it up and figured I’d nibble on it tomorrow for lunch.

Like the good little bunny I am.

Have you seen me eat carrots?

Please.

And folks wonder why I have bunnies all over the place.

Symbolic rabbit meanings deal primarily with abundance, comfort, and vulnerability. Traditionally, rabbits are associated with fertility, sentiment, desire, and procreation.

Hmm.

Sounds about right.

Thanks interwebs.

Although I’m not procreating at the moment, heh.

I have been writing affirmations about sex and making out.

I am single, sexy, and available to date the man God wants me to date.

I am having amazing sex and make out.

Um.

Ha.

I think I’ve actually been writing: I am having mind blowing sex and amazing make out sessions.

That’s the full affirmation.

Every body deserves that, right?

And after all the wonderful stuff with Burning Man unfolding for me, yes, completely confirmed, time off, I’m going, I’m going, I’m going, ten in a row!

I figured.

Come on.

I stopped trying to write affirmations about the one or marriage or my beloved, I’m like, let’s get down to brass tacks.

Let’s go out.

Hey, do you want to go out?

Hey, do you want to burn?

Hey, do you want to dance?

Seize the mysteries.

Hold them in your hands.

Yes.

Exactly.

I won’t spend my whole day stuck trying to figure anything out, but I’m just saying, I’m open, I’m available, I’m going to keep trying, working at it, taking care of myself, focusing on the good stuff right in front of me.

The flowers I bought on Sunday opening.

The new yoga mat and my new practice.

The music on my stereo, the sweet apples in a blue pottery bowl on my counter.

Going to Burning Man.

Going to graduate school.

Loving my little charges and their sweet faces.

Getting kisses from the pup at work.

Hugs from friends.

Life.

You know.

It’s dreamy and delicious and it’s only Monday.

What wonders will the week bring?

I suspect fabulousness and magic.

Well.

Ha.

I know that I will get that since I’m having dinner with my Puerto Rican fairy godfather on Sunday after I get out of school.

But.

I suspect that there is greatness a foot.

I have a vast warm light feeling in my heart.

The days may be grey, there may be rain.

But there is sunshine in my soul, buttercream and daffodils.

It’s Spring!

Baby.

Magic and mysterious and momentous.

Mythic.

I  feel it.

I really do.

 

 

 

Let The Shopping Begin!

April 10, 2015

Or the obsessing.

Depends on how you care to phrase that.

I officially bought my first Burning Man thingamajig this past Monday.

VERY quietly.

I don’t want to draw too much attention to it, but it was fabulous and it’s from Community Thrift on Valencia Street and it was the first Monday of the month, so said item was 1/2 off.

I got a vintage 60s aquamarine sequined dress with a marabou off the shoulder collar for $4.62.

Not bad.

Pair that sucker with a pair of boots, some fishnets, and some electric blue eyeliner–the dress is entirely aquamarine sequins, I’m going to shimmer in the high desert air, yes I am, and stick a flower in my hair (or five, it’s Burning Man after all, I wear flowers in my hair almost every day, I should up the ante for the actual event) and I will be set to sashay my way across the playa.

Or ride my chopper.

I may wear the dress to a party I was invited to recently, but I am not sure.

I actually want to have it slightly altered, the fit is not the greatest, it has a bit of a sack feel to it, but the fabric was so fun and it was so cheap to buy, that I had to have it.

The other thing I got today, specifically for Burning Man.

Baby wipes.

Yeah.

I know.

Not exactly glamorous, like my sequined dress, but necessary, and the damn things are expensive, at least the ones I like to use, so when I saw them on sale at the store, I grabbed a pack.

I parse out my Burning Man buys so that it does not feel like I just exploded my entire life savings on going to that thing in the desert where they burn the man, hey.

I got home from work and shopping and doing the deal and unloaded my messenger bag with my groceries and toiletries and thought, I should stash these, and here it is, I now have a Burning Man shelf in my little utility cupboard in my kitchenette (I also have a list of supplies that I wrote out two weeks ago).

And as I was putting away the wipes I thought, here it is, was my official first Burning Man purchase for the upcoming event.

But, nope, I realized, when I looked in my closet, there was the dress.

“Oh, I didn’t think this would last long when I saw it come in the store, and I was right,” the clerk said at Community Thrift when he rang me up.  “I do hope you have a special place for it.”

I smiled.

“Burning Man.”

“Oh, are you going?  First time?” He asked, then continued, “I’ve never been, but I hear its fabulous.”

“This will make number nine,” I said, grinning, I couldn’t help it.

It really is rather amazing when I think about it, I can’t get my shit together to go camping at Yosemite–I’ve never been–nor to the Grand Canyon, but I have gotten out to Burning Man eight times now and am about to embark on my 9th.

Not that it’s around the corner.

“When is it?” The clerk asked, folding the dress up for me, “next month?”

“Oh no,” I replied, “not until the end of August, but when you see something that so obviously says Burning Man, one is compelled to buy it.”

With that said, I’m waffling on pulling the trigger on a pair of boots.

I always do this.

The boots thing for me is a constant negotiation in my brain, whether I splurge and buy something fancy, or I cheap out, as the dust is going to destroy them anyhow and I just get a pair to beat up and toss.

I wish there was a boot fairy.

I have this dilemma every year and I am about over it.

I also was thinking that if I got the right pair I could wear them over to the NIMBY event a week from Saturday.

I am definitely contemplating going, just got to get the logistics worked out and I suppose, buy a ticket.

I get paid tomorrow, so that should not be an issue.

Plus, I made sure to put some money in my spending plan for entertainment purposes, and I can afford the ticket.

By the time I purchase it I think the price will have gone up to $30.

Not horrible, but the last time I spent $30 on tickets, the Basement Jaxx at Public Works, I didn’t go.

I don’t want to do that again.

Decisions.

Decisions.

Luxury problems all.

I actually have a pair of boots that I am probably going to sacrifice to that great dust god in the sky anyway.

I bought them for when I took the motorcycle training course to get my license for my scooter.

I have worn them but a few times and they just sort of hang out in my closet taking up space.

I don’t really have to buy boots.

It’s just my brain looking to latch onto something, anything, to obsess about.

Ah, brain, I hear you, there’s no problems, so let’s manufacture some.

Work is good.

Life is good.

My hair is fabulous.

I just got out of the shower and have laundry in the wash.

I have a new laptop.

My rent is paid.

I’ll be paying my phone bill here in a minute.

I’m going to graduate school.

I’m going to Worlds in Atlanta in July.

I’m going to Chula Vista to see my grandmother in May.

I’m going to Burning Man.

Yeah.

Not really any problems in my life at all.

Bird song at twilight as I rode home, the dusk purple and gray, soft, the twitter of robins flying through the bracken, the cool rush of air over my body as I round the corner near the falls, the echo of the water crashing across the road and bouncing off the Eucalyptus trees, the smell of spring, the soft lushness of roses blooming wild in a small bowl of a valley across from Spreckels Lake, the last of the sunset blushing the sky as turn right and fly home the last few blocks from Chain of Lakes onto Lincoln Ave then to 46th Avenue.

Beauty everywhere.

All for free.

Nothing to obsess over.

Just to observe.

And absorb.

Into the wilds of my heart.

Who needs boots when there is such beauty?

Well.

Maybe, I can have both?

Ha.

Soft, Sweet, Wet Kisses

May 9, 2014

For me.

All for me.

Drenched with them.

Saturated with them.

Slowed down with lush.

Face full of mist, warm, enveloping, deft, dewy, succulent.

Safe.

I felt cocooned in the rain and mist and fog as I cycled, slowly, through the park.

I knew about one-third through the Wiggle (San Francisco’s bicycle route to get around all those hills from the Church and Market area to the Haight and all points West) that I was not going to ride my bicycle in the weather down Lincoln Avenue.

Nor was I going to take Irving with the train running and the parking and the commuters who suddenly get weird when the weather changes on a dime, like it can here.

I was not suspecting rain at all today, no fender on my bicycle, no thought in my head of wet weather.

After the nap time extravaganza of two hours that my little girl Thursday took, however, I began to suspect something was up.

It got humid in the afternoon.

And heavy overcast, thick, dark clouds, the smell of rain just wafting through Alamo Square park presaging the mist and fog and light Spring rain that was to marshal me home.

So, yes to the park, yes to light to none existent for blocks, traffic.

Just me, the bicycle, the wet, which was not the kind of wet that drenches you quickly, but soaks you in a quiet, seductive way.

It was not overpowering or cold.

It sprinkled down about me in the way that reminded me of soft warm rain in the late Spring in Wisconsin or even early summer, the rich smells not being the heavy drowsy perfume of lilacs, but rather the pungent spice of eucalyptus, searing sweet jasmine, and succulent honeysuckle, wet grass, and then, as I turned down Chain of Lakes, the seminal smell of the ocean.

It is the kind of weather that I wished, for a moment, that I did have a lover to walk through the park with, hold hands with, and yes, find a canopy of mimosa to shelter under and kiss wet and dark and long.

Spring has indeed sprung.

And summer is coming.

Summer.

I am going to experience it.

I am.

Not just the fog in the city.

But summer in California, in Bradley California, in just two weeks.

I am going to Lighting in a Bottle!

I got asked to go a couple of weeks ago but after just purchasing a ticket to fly back to Wisconsin I didn’t think I could swing it.

My friend shot me a text today, she’d gotten the weekend off, let me help subsidize your trip, will you please come?

How in the world can I say no to that?

A weekend with one of my best girlfriends, camping, a road trip–small one, Bradley’s only about three hours away from San Francisco–music, dancing under the stars, an opening salvo to the summer.

Oh my.

I had to say yes.

She bought the tickets and I am going.

My friend said I’ll sport you $100 off the ticket, take care of all the food, and get you there and back.

How could I say no?

I didn’t of course.

And of course, pride, ego, lack of humility, wanted to say, no really, that’s too much, but  I also know better than to look a gift in the mouth.

I said yes.

I am still going to give her $180 for my ticket (the ticket is $280–just a basic general admission ticket and we will be tent camping by the car) but that is a steal to see the line up, which is kookoo crazy good.

MOBY.

Beats Antique.

Amon Tobin.

Kraak and Smaak.

Claude Von Stroke.

And a whole lot more.

Plus, camping, yoga, art, pretty festival people, DANCING, dancing, dancing, and yes, more dancing.

I have not gotten my butt to Coachella yet, maybe next year, but I am going to this.

It’s a nice, sweet, unexpected surprise.

I feel that there is more of that to come.

Scooter riding as a part of that surprise.

Glad again to not be on my scooter today, riding in the rain is one thing on my bicycle, I have 8 plus years of riding around this city in the rain on my bike and zero days of being on the scooter in the wet, I have no idea how it will respond and am not yet prepared to ride it and find out.

That being said, fingers crossed, I will be able to venture forth tomorrow to work at 19th and Noe, ie all places hilly, as I got it started, the scooter, last night.

My friend came over and I wheeled it out, showed him what I was doing, then stepped back while he asked, “have you been priming it before starting it?”

Uh.

What?

Um.

No.

Turns out, I probably was, accidentally, but not with real intent, that is giving the throttle a little gas to go through the system and get some fuel to the engine.

Oh.

Well, now I know.

My friend stepped up, gave the throttle a little twist, stepped on the kickstart, and kicked it over on the first try.

D’oh!

I knew it was me and not the scooter.

Yay!

I will give myself a little time to make sure I can replicate it all tomorrow, although, I feel quite certain I will be able to start it, I still want to make sure.

Because I don’t want to repeat the manic bicycle ride that I endured on Monday tomorrow.

I would rather go, sweet, soft, slow, and mellow, zooming up and over the hills on the Vespa.

I shall see what the morrow brings.

Nothing to worry myself with tonight.

Just the enjoyment of knowing that in two weeks from tomorrow I will be heading out and having a new adventure, seeing something new, having new experiences, and hanging out with one of my best girls.

Summer.

I think this may be my best one yet.

I am ready for it.

The warm soft rainy mist bestowing its kisses upon me has primed my engine.

I am ready to kick it off.

 

 


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