"The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo"

Stieg Larsson's novel, "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" is one of the best books I've ever read, and not just because I love Sweden. It has multiple, very intricate and tightly-woven plot lines that individually would have been good stories, but together constitute sheer genius. The book is part financial thriller: Swedish journalist Mikael Blomkvist initially is found guilty of libeling a financial magnate. In the wake of this, another captain of industry hires Blomkvist to his remote village to investigate the disappearance of his favorite niece, Harriet, forty years ago. The twists and turns that this investigation yields are nothing less than thrilling. While reading "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo," I actually found myself grinning multiple times at Larsson's ingenuity, along the lines of "You go, Stieg! How did you think of that?! That was awesome!"

Blomkvist's path converges with Lisbeth Salander's, a 20-something genius hacker cum sociopath. This heroine has a huge chip on her shoulder, and initially comes across as crude, nasty, anti-social, and generally unlikable. However, like most of Larsson's characters, what you see is not what you get, and I could not help but fall for Salander's street-smarts, self-preservation, and unwillingness to get with the program and conform. I began to sympathize with -- but never pity -- Salander, for her character -- as sad as it is -- defies pity. You get the sense that she could go through literal hell, pick herself up, give the offender the middle finger, and enact her own brand of vigilante justice, as she indeed does in what I will only call the tattoo scene (because I hope that you choose to read this treat). Salander is one of the most moral characters I've ever encountered in literature: she firmly believes in doing the right thing, albeit her own version of doing the right thing, which eschews police in favor of more poetic, swifty justice. Another aspect of Salandar's character that I admire is that in spite of being the victim of brutal sexual assaults, she exudes healthy sexual confidence.

Besides the intriguing, well-crafted and well-written plot, this book (and the sequel, "The Girl Who Played With Fire," which I'm currently reading) is a window into the mind and heart of the deceased Larsson, an investigative journalist not unlike Blomkvist, who spent much of his career exposing the Swedish Nazi party and advocating for women's issues. This interest in women, especially violence and abuse of women, comes up repeatedly in Larsson's books, either directly in the plot, or in the random facts that open the chapters of "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo," like "X percent of Swedish women have been caused bodily harm by a partner." I heard a podcast with the American editor of Larsson's trilogy, who said to the best of his knowledge, the facts are accurate.

I want to tell you that I have never had an adrenaline reaction like I had reading "The Girl..." I distinctly remember feeling like hell from my Lyme Disease pain after going to a museum exhibit with my in-laws for a couple of hours. I came home, ate lunch, got into my pajamas, and intended to read for 15 minutes before sleeping for the rest of the afternoon. I hit one of climaxes of the novel much earlier than I anticipated. When I became aware of my body, I realized that I had arched my back up off the bed and rigidly held my arms still. My mouth was dry as a bone, my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. My heart beat so hard I could feel it pounding in my chest. So much for sleep that afternoon; I just read another 50 pages.

I should give fair warning that "The Girl..." has brutal violence, but I never thought that it was gratuitous. The violent and non-violent tension throughout the book meant that I should not have picked it up after 8:00 p.m. to ensure that I could get to bed on time; the excellent, addictive nature of this narrative ensured that that never happened.

Today, I went to see the Swedish film version of "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo." I heard somewhere that there was an English version in the works, but haven't confirmed this. The concession guy's condescending attitude when hearing which movie a few of us were going to see made me think I was heading for suckville, but I can only guess he's not a fan of the books. I am so fond of the characters, I think I was destined to like the movie because the characters felt genuine. Blomkvist is as every-mannish and non-judgmental as I imagined him to be; Salander was as contemptible/sympathetic as she was in the book.

However, I found it irresponsible and annoying that the film's writers went so far in hinting at the genesis of All The Evil -- the event, or events, that were the tipping point in Salander's psychopathy. The first book of the trilogy shows you the aftermath of All The Evil; presumably, the precipitating factors emerge during "The Girl Who Played With Fire" and the third and final book, "The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest," which will debut in the U.S. on May 25. Yay! This spoiler only helped the movie a little by trying to shed light on the origin of Salander's mental health problems (to put it diplomatically), but mostly succeeded in just annoying me.

I am sad that Larsson passed away, so will not be gracing our world with any more excellent novels, but I'm grateful to him for handing in three excellent manuscripts before he died.

Ratings: book, 5 stars; film, 3 stars.

The Worst, And Best, Of Humanity

I have been snowed under by Passover, so sorry for not posting. I've had a couple of experiences lately that are completely juxtaposed that I wanted to share. I always believe in delivering bad news first, so we'll start there.

I was working out at the gym when I spotted a 30-something year old man wearing a t-shirt that caught my eye. It said, verbatim: "Yes, I have lots of spare change, you homeless piece of shit. Thanks for asking." The bottom of the shirt depicted a pile of change. I was astounded that someone would consider designing, producing, and selling such a vicious shirt -- let alone wearing it. I don't exaggerate when I say that I would rather be naked than wear something that mean, and I don't have a beach-ready body, to say the least. I was stunned by that shirt, and walked away shaking my head. The gym's manager was exiting his office and said to me, "Is everything ok?" I told him to go read the shirt on the guy working out on the Arc Trainer. Later he said, "Next time I see that guy I'm going to say something to him about it."

I left the gym with that shirt on my mind, feeling bad for whatever exists in humans that would allow someone to feel ok propagating that message. It's easy for me to start feeling crummy about the whole human race when I encounter people like that, so I'm glad I had the following experience a few days later:

If you don't live in a big city you might not know that some homeless people ride the buses all day to give them air conditioning in the summer and heat in the winter. So, when I got on the D2 bus to head home, I wasn't surprised to see a homeless woman with terrible cataracts that I often see on that route. She must have said something to the bus driver about being hungry, and I started paying attention when the driver offered the woman an ice-cold bottle of water and a quart-size ziplock bag full of trail mix. The following exchange ensued:

Woman: "I don't want to take your lunch."

Driver: "You aren't. I already ate my lunch -- two tuna sandwiches!"

Woman: "Than what is this food? Am I taking your snack?"

Driver: "I always carry a snack and a bottle of water in case I see any of my homeless brothers and sisters and they're hungry or thirsty. I figure that it's my duty to take care of my fellow man."

I sat back watching this, stunned. In fact, tears are overflowing from my eyes right now. It's so rare to see such kindness in motion, especially the premeditated kind. This man goes to work every day with a meal for someone else. Wow.

I debated the rest of the bus ride home about whether to say something to the driver on my way out. I didn't want to embarrass either the homeless woman or him, but I felt so strongly, I couldn't help myself. I struck a balance by leaning over to him as I was getting off at my stop and said quietly, "I saw that interaction when you gave away your food. You are truly awesome, and I so admire you." He said, "Thank you. You're awesome too. Thank you for riding my bus today."

The interaction on the bus challenged me to think critically about what I actually do and what I should do to make the world a better place and take care of my fellow brothers and sisters. I donate money to charities that serve the homeless, but I'm considering buying a box of granola bars from Costco and carrying them in Kacy's dog-walking bag, where I keep spare bags, my iPod, treats, etc. I encounter homeless people several times a week who ask me for money or food, but I don't carry money when I walk the dog, nor do I feel sanguine about giving money to random people on the street.

The bus driver helped many more people that day than the homeless woman he fed. He helped me, and anyone else on board paying attention, by showing me humankind at its best. He gives service in a very tangible way, with a humble bearing, and an open heart. In a way, he helped restore my faith in humanity.

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It took me two days to type this post.

Loving-kindness Meditation

My friend, A-Team cheerleader, and meditation enthusiast, Stef, graciously sent me a CD of some of her favorite guided meditations to help me meditate when my pain is so distracting, I can't even stay with one breath. It has been a few days since I meditated, and I noticed the effects on my spirit. I am so imperfect about my practice, yet I feel like it is an integral part of my spiritual life, so I keep trying.

After a few days of whining that I hadn't left adequate time for prayer or meditation in my busy mornings, this morning I turned words into deeds and sat down to listen to Jack Kornfield's loving-kindness meditation that was on Stef's compilation. This is a traditional Buddhist meditation that is designed to help us have a compassionate and loving heart toward all. For the record, I am not a Buddhist, but loosely consider myself a student of Buddhist meditation. The loving-kindness meditation first had me focus on repeating phrases that would open my heart and encourage compassion and love for myself. Then, I repeated the process, first focusing on people who are dear to me, and then later, extending the loving thoughts toward strangers and even enemies (which I gratefully do not have).

I felt fantastic after this, getting up from my meditation and the prayer that followed it, feeling truly at one with the world (Dan Brown fans: at-one-ment). My body and soul felt harmonious. Then it was time to walk Kacy before my chiropractic appointment, and I was trying to lead her out of the shadowy side of the block and onto the western side of the street, which was bathed in sunlight. Being a terrier, she wanted to go east, to Wisconsin Ave., so she was reluctant as I led her across the intersection of 33rd and Volta. At this point, a lunatic ignores the four-way stop at the intersection, and rolls through, stopping just two feet away from hitting Kacy and me, yet staring me down with a clear "Hurry up!" look. "What the fuck?!" I say, and my body and soul fill with rage. So much for my loving-kindness meditation! He then rolls down his window and says something vitriolic to me; luckily, I couldn't hear his phrase over my iPod, but I distinctly caught the f-bomb and the word "puppy."

So this rage-a-holic dude was mad at my dog for being slow when he was rushing through a residential intersection. I seethed for a few minutes, beating myself up for letting the harmony get away from me so quickly, while simultaneously laughing at the idea of this guy "ruining" my loving-kindness meditation. Then I stopped and did two crucial things: first, I decided Mr. Jerky Driver wasn't going to take away any more peace from my day, and I let it go. Really. Then I decided that there was nothing to "ruin" from my meditation, that I could accept myself for the volatile, imperfect human that I am, and more importantly, that I could extend loving-kindness to other people I would encounter over the course of my day.

And I have: I had compassion for the ridiculously slow and frustrating receptionist at my chiropractor's office, as well as for his assistant who carries a boatload of attitude toward anyone she perceives as "privileged," which she deems me. I complimented the receptionist on something she did well, and I asked the assistant how her kids were and how old they are now. These actions were not for show; they were sincere, and I believe they emanated from the intention of my loving-kindness meditation. Even with the jerky driver, I'd say this is a very good day indeed.

Doctors: Your Patients Know Obesity Is A Problem

I have no doubt that my obesity compromised my health care. I'm not referring to my health, but to my actual health care. When I weighed 250 pounds, I felt dismissed and looked down on by many doctors. I felt disrespected. So it was gratifying to see that my experience was not unique, and indeed is quantifiable: scientists reported in the November issue of the Journal of General Internal Medicine that the higher the patients' body mass index (BMI), the less respect doctors have for them. The irony is not lost on me that the patients with the highest BMIs might also be the people most likely to be in dire need of quality health care from an empathetic practitioner.

Being an obese patient caused me enough anxiety that I searched online databases of "fat-friendly" doctors to try to find a practitioner who wouldn't make me feel like a freak. Some of my concerns were very tangible and practical: Would they have a gown big enough to fit me? Would they weigh me in a public hallway? But what really worried me was the disdain that I often encountered.

Upon seeing an internist for the first time, he chided me about my weight and told me. "If you just reach for baby carrots instead of Oreos when you're hungry, you'll lose weight." I nodded sheepishly, my cheeks burning. What I really thought was, "You dumbfuck. Congratulations! You just solved America's obesity crisis. Who knew it was that simple? Wow, carrots instead of Oreos. What a chiddush [insight/epiphany]!"

Another barrier to health care for the obese is the presumption that anything wrong with you must be directly or indirectly related to your obesity. I saw a jerk of an orthopedist shortly after a car accident in which I sustained whiplash. After ruling out major injuries with an MRI, his #1 recommendation to me was to follow the South Beach Diet. My pain persisted, and I sought follow-up care from him, but he was very dismissive. "If you'd just lose the weight, your back wouldn't hurt," the mean orthopedist said. Here I am, 102 pounds lighter. To be fair, my back is substantially better, but I still need chiropractic care. By the way, I ran into the aforementioned orthopedist on the street last year. He didn't recognize me at my new weight, and I seriously considered pulling him aside to tell him how hurtful and harmful his derision was to me, and to tell him how I finally did get a handle on my eating disorder (not with the South Beach diet). I chickened out.

Before losing the 102 pounds, I asked my ex-chiropractor if he thought my weight was causing my back problems. He replied, "Look around my waiting room. Most of my patients are not overweight." I'm not arguing that obesity does not cause or aggravate some health problems; just that the assumption that this is always the case is erroneous and damaging. I have run into this assumption so many times, it's infuriating. I feel like obesity is the biggest scapegoat in health care; it's far easier for a doctor to say "lose weight" than to take the time to address the complex factors that might be causing the complaint.

I'm sympathetic to health care providers who have to walk the fine line of counseling patients on their health -- which includes information on attaining or maintaining a healthy body weight -- but who risk angering their patients. I think whether or not a doctor broaches this subject with patients depends on their relationship, the patient's health, and other factors. However, if doctors choose to go there, they have to be tactful when broaching the subject, and I have some tips for them:

1. Context is everything. If I'm going to a dermatologist because of an acne flare up, it would be inappropriate for her to offer unsolicited advice about my weight.

2. I think doctors need to acknowledge how difficult weight-loss is, especially for obese people. I give my old internist, Dr. Graves (no, that's not a made up name!), a lot of credit in this area: he would suggest that I lose weight but always said, "I know it's so hard, Sarah. In fact, I haven't had any patients who have really been successful in the long run, but please keep trying." I found this simultaneously comforting and discouraging at the same time, but I appreciated his candor.

3. Providers should be prepared with suggestions beyond trying Weight Watchers or the latest fad diet. Those might be helpful tools for some people, but I personally believe that most people who are as obese as I was are true food addicts, not merely people who need a cheerleader and a public, weekly weigh-in to motivate or shame them into compliance. Many of you know that the Overeaters Anonymous-H.O.W. Concept was and is my gateway to recovery. I don't think it's an answer for everyone, but I do my best to educate my doctors about OA-HOW and its role in my recovery. Therapists and nutritionists with specialties in binge-eating disorders are other resources doctors could refer patients to.

4. Doctors in glass houses should not throw stones. It was very hard for me to take seriously any exhortations for me to lose weight when the doctor nagging me was overweight or obese himself.

5. Finally, health care providers should approach obese patients with the understanding that no one in this country thinks that his/her obesity is not a problem. Often doctors would speak to me as if they were the first person to bring this up, when in fact, they were the hundredth. This is akin to smokers; there are no smokers left in this country who don't know that smoking is dangerous to their health and their social lives. The same is true for overweight people. They understand the danger, but don't know how to control the compulsion that leads them to overeat, or how to overcome the deeply ingrained lifestyle habits that contribute to their body mass.

I am grateful that Dr. Huizinga published her research on doctors' disdain for obese patients. I hope that it sparks some soul-searching on the part of doctors to think about how they relate to their fat patients and how their attitudes might compromise the care of this already vulnerable population.

Health Update

I had my follow up appointment with Dr. F and Gladys, my nurse practitioner and got some interesting lab results. I am still positive for Lyme Disease and Bartonella, one of the co-infection I'm presenting symptoms for. This wasn't surprising, but it was gratifying. We added the Rifampin back in, but at half the dose I took when the flaky naturopath prescribed it for me; the hope was that I wouldn't have the Herxheimer reactions I describe in this post. Unfortunately, I have. My symptoms are exhaustion and burning in my forearms. Additionally, my forearms feel like they're in a vice.

Dr. F is taking me off the Rifampin, and I'm trying Factive instead. If this doesn't work, I'm not sure what we'll do, but I'll cross that bridge if and when I come to it.

So, here's how my antibiotic regimen looks now:

Sundays: off

Mon./Wed./Fri: 300 mg Azithromycin

Tues./Thrs./Sat.: Minocycline

7 days of Factive (320 mg) followed by 7 days off

My energy is very low, and my mood is crummy: it's hard not to get sucked into self-pity when I'm this incapacitated. All I know is that we have to get this sorted out before Passover, because I can't cook for a seder if I'm in this condition. More later when I can type with less pain.

Magical Mystery Meal

We had a really amazing shabbat (sabbath) meal on Friday night. I made Indian food -- a real treat since there are no kosher-certified Indian restaurants anywhere near D.C., and because it's a nice departure from typical shabbat foods. I have never used as much fresh ginger in one meal as I used to make this one. Specifically, I made the following recipes:

Garden Vegetable Soup (ok, this is not Indian, but I didn't have it in me to make rasam): . I cut the olive oil in half, and omitted the corn and potatoes to keep this soup starch-free for my food plan. I also added a parsnip because I had one that needed to be used up. The leeks and lemon juice gave this soup an unanticipated freshness.

Indian Spiced Chicken: Because the laws of kashrut [Jewish dietary laws] forbid mixing milk and meat products, I substituted equal amounts of plain soy yogurt for the yogurt and plain, full-fat soy milk for the half-and-half. Having had Indian food consisting of meat cooked with dairy for much of my life, I can attest that by the time I added all of the wonderful seasonings, you honestly couldn't tell that I used soy products in my adaptation. I also substantially cut the honey in this recipe.

Chickpea curry: I used Muir Glen organic canned tomatoes, which Cook's Illustrated ranks as the best-tasting canned tomatoes. The garam masala spice blend is from Penzey's, an amazing spice company. My Orthodox rabbi told me their spices are acceptably kosher even without certification, because we verified that they do not use any drying agents, which are the chemicals that can pose a problem with the kashrut of spices. This does NOT apply to the Penzey's blends which have cheese, of course, but any straight herbs or spices, or regular spice blends, are fine, according to my rabbi. Yesss! If you are uncomfortable using Penzey's without certification, McCormick's Gourmet Collection includes garam masala, or you could make your own. Just remember to toast the spices in a hot, dry skillet or you will not get the taste you're looking for.

For my curry, I used fresh chick peas instead of canned. I've recently started using the bagged beans instead of canned to cut down on exposure to BPA, and I've found they are so much tastier and have a firmer, more pleasing texture than their canned counterparts. I cook a whole bag at once and then freeze any excess in individual portions, then defrost them as needed.

Roasted Cauliflower with Indian Seasonings: Spicy and yummy!

Additionally, we served basmati rice. Lydia made delicious challah, traditional Jewish egg bread, and David made his amazing home-made applesauce. Our guests also complemented the wines we served.

But beyond the food, the meal felt really special: we had two lovely guests visiting from New Jersey who contacted our shul [synagogue] for shabbat hospitality. You never know who's coming your way when you accept hospitality guests -- crazy and/or inappropriate guests do show up -- but these young women were really delightful and contributed meaningfully to the conversation. They were also superbly grateful, which was nice. The conversation was a nice balance of serious topics and humor.

Finally, I felt really good about the spiritual tenor of our shabbat meal. I lapsed into a bad habit of shabbat being a passive day where I observe all the restrictions of the day -- no phone, computer, driving, manipulating electricity, hard exercise, cooking, etc. -- but otherwise, shabbat had very little spiritual content. I'm trying to more actively observe shabbat, dwelling in the spirit of the day, really internalizing the spiritual rest that it is supposed to convey, and remembering that shabbat is a partnership with God. We (and all of our animals and "servants") rest because on shabbat, God rested from the work of creation. To that end, I'm trying to attend synagogue more regularly, although certainly NOT every week; nothing gives me pleasure like slipping back into bed with Kacy and the Washington Post after a leisurely breakfast on shabbat morning. Shul or not, I've committed to saying at least one liturgical prayer service over shabbat as part of my "put spirituality back in shabbat" campaign.

Another way I've tried to become more actively shabbat observant is by singing zemirot, shabbat songs, at our shabbat meals and by learning/talking more about the parsha. That's the weekly portion of the Hebrew bible, the Torah (aka "The Old Testament" -- a term I find objectionable because obviously it connotes that it has been supplanted by a newer testament) that we read at our synagogue. At the meal I'm writing about, we had a nice discussion about the parsha, and a meaningful broader discussion about the challenges and rewards of more actively observing shabbat, especially for busy professionals who are exhausted at the week's end and kinda eager to get through the ritual so they can crash or read.

All in all, it was a really special shabbat meal, and thinking about it makes me smile in the midst of what has been a challenging week due to an ethical conflict I'm navigating, and self-pity about my limitations caused by my Lyme Disease. Ironically, I ordered a pair of the warmest mittens I've ever worn from Ewe2you.com and they were delivered with an elaborate brochure, geared for Christian readers, urging them to more actively observe the sabbath. I think that the importance of a shabbat, whatever form it takes for you, is more relevant than ever in our fractured, multi-tasking, 24/7-connected world. Whatever your faith, I highly recommend it.

P.S. This post took me four days due to my disability -- now I see why!

Yamuna Body Rolling Is Amazing!

Sorry I've been silent lately; I've been super-busy, and due to the nerve damage from my Lyme Disease, I often don't have the physical ability to type after I go about my other, regular duties. By the way, most of the posts you read take me days to write, because I can't type for too long at a time. Anyway, I had a blog-worthy event happen on Tuesday that I wanted to share about. My brilliant acupuncturist, Michele Masset, is also a physical therapist and certified in a lot of other therapeutic techniques, including Yamuna Body Rolling (YBR). First, let me state what YBR is not: it is not the classes at the gym with people rolling around on Swiss balls or on foam rollers. YBR is the original small ball therapy using specially designed six- to ten-inch rubber balls to release muscular tension, improve flexibility, decompress the joints, increase range of motion, build core strength and help realign postural imbalances. This is a system for total body care that includes elements of rolfing, weight-bearing exercise, stretching, core strengthening, and neuromuscular reeducation. I think my experience Tuesday is testimony that YBR is a simple program with profound results.

The bottom, middle of my feet have been hurting badly lately. I'd seen my podiatrist, but like most of the time I leave a doctor's office, I felt like we were addressing the symptom, but not the cause. I was excited to see Michele, because she has so many different therapies she can draw from, and she has literally lived around the world learning best practices, and continues to take seminars around the world to further her education to better help her patients. Michele did a thorough physical therapy evaluation, and said it was no mystery why my feet were hurting: my arches are collapsed, which is making the muscles in my calves and butt work way overtime. The rest of the muscles in my legs are atonal, virtually floppy. This muscular/postural imbalance makes my knees turn inward, exacerbating the foot problems. Fortunately, she thinks YBR is perfect for this.

There are two main ways to do YBR on my legs. The first involves laying on my back on the floor with my rump bumping up against the couch, and my legs up on the couch. I put the YBR ball, which is inflatable to the desired pressure, under my calf just below the knee and slowly work my way down. Michele taught me how to apply pressure using the correct body rolling technique. The other method is to kneel, and put the ball on my calf and keep it there by applying pressure with the back of my thigh. Either way, it feels so good! I basically felt those muscles lengthen and unwind. We followed the YBR with stretching. One of the stretches we did has caused me excruciating pain in the past, but after rolling it didn't, because body rolling decompressed the muscles being stretched. We worked only on my left leg that day, so I could see the difference between it and my right one, and it was profound. Not only did my left leg feel open, longer, and more relaxed, it actually looked different -- my left knee was facing forward, correctly aligned, while my right one remained turned inward. It was such a dramatic and amazing thing, I had to call my husband and tell him about this after I left. For those of you wondering, of course I bought a ball so I could treat my right leg at home, and I've been using it!

The other part of my new regimen is to use the YBR Foot Wakers pictured at the top of this post. A few months ago, I took one of the monthly lunchtime YBR foot classes that Michele holds regularly. Instead of using regular YBR balls, you use the Wakers, which stay flat on the floor and are covered in little nubbins. Standing on these is intense, no doubt about it; my house guest tried and said, "I thought those would be cuddly and comfortable, but they hurt!" The intensity is necessary to open and relax those neglected and cramped bones, muscles, and connective tissues in your feet. Although they're intense, the Wakers are tolerable, and are made easier by the YBR technique's emphasis on relaxing into the balls while exhaling. Michele told me using my wakers every day will go a long way toward improving the underlying foot problems that are causing my imbalance and the resulting pain.

Although I bemoan the lack of holistic health care options in our area compared to the West Coast, I am so very grateful to live in a city with more holistic options than most places east of Oregon. Practitioners like Michele, and my massage therapist, Gail Messier (who also uses some alternative, very effective techniques), really make my life manageable by offering some tangible relief from pain.

If you're someone who has any ongoing physical problems, or if you just want to free muscular restriction caused by stress, improve bone density, and rebalance your body, I'd definitely encourage you to check out YBR. The Web site I linked to above has a directory of trained practitioners around the world. I just commented to my husband that this post sounds almost sales-like and gimmicky, but I really am that enthused about this. I promise it's my natural enthusiasm, not a paid endorsement!