What Did I Do This Year?

Oh my god, it's the end of December already. 2010 is almost finished. This year flew by so fast! And I wonder, what did I even do this year??

I can itemize that thought:

• Promoted to Sergeant
• Got Divorced
• Bought a Puppy as Expensive as a Used Car
• Fought a War
• Fell in Love with a Really GREAT Dude
• Crashed my Truck

That's what I've come up with to sum up 2010. It doesn't really seem like too much, but when you read the "fought a war" bullet, it puts things into perspective. I spent 9 of the 12 months in 2010 deployed in the middle east. That tends to eat up a lot of your free time to accomplish goals and do neat things.

Bring it on 2011! I'm ready!

Christmas Wrap-Up

In case you were wondering, I had a very merry Washington Christmas.

My mom and dad came from Iowa to spend the holiday with me. It was a 4 day Seattle-Tacoma tourist event. We went to Pike Place Market and Pioneer Square for some shopping and sight seeing. We went on the Seattle Underground Tour, which was both educational and cool. I never would have guessed that the beginnings of this great city were based on shit and sewage. Heh, you learn something new everyday. We saw the Space Needle and ate some super delicious Chinese food. We had a desert called a Ram Potato which was vanilla ice cream rolled in cocoa and served with whipped cream on it (totally delicious). We also went to the Tacoma Museum of Glass, which was really neat.

Of course, it was raining the entire time we were on our tourist adventures; just to really drive it home to my parents that this area of the country is yucky. I can't wait to move to Fort Campbell, and I'm sure they're anxious to visit me in a place that is dryer.

Christmas dinner turned out fabulous. And, of course it did because Ashley and I tag teamed the kitchen and cooked some amazing awesomeness. When put together, the two of us can make a serious feast. I felt like a bloated calf after dinner, and I think that is the best description for culinary success.

I made some Christmas gift cash and spent it promptly today at Pier One. (Thanks Grandma, that's what I spent your money on!) My living room is just that much more cute now because of the new wall hanging I bought. I got tickets to see The Decemberists in Portland in February! I'm super excited to see my favorite band. I cleaned up pretty good. It was a good holiday. I think I'll host Christmas again next year. :)

Car Rides

I spy with my little eye... the cutest face in the world!

Picasso likes to go on car rides. He prefers to ride on my lap. It wouldn't be much of an issue since he only weighs 12 pounds, but he doesn't sit still well. He feels the need to turn around a lot in my lap and lick my face and chew on either the seat belt or my patches and name tapes on my uniform. I'm probably teaching him a horrible habit, because when he's full grown, I'm not going to want a 25 pound dog riding in my lap. I'm such a push over and his little distressed face and whimpers from the passenger seat break my heart. He's a Momma's Boy and he gets what he wants!

Bows Taste Yummy

Picasso is in the Christmas spirit. Are you?

Bacon Flip

Have you ever wondered what bacon flavored vodka tastes like? Or are you shaking your head in disbelief that bacon flavored vodka exists? Well it does. And I've tasted it.

I didn't actually taste it by itself, however. I may be from Iowa, but I do not like bacon. I like vodka, but my dislike of bacon trumped that. Luckily, the reason the bacon vodka was purchased was to be an ingredient in something much more spectacular: The Bacon Flip.

The Bacon Flip ingredients are as follows:

• 1 raw egg
• Bacon Vodka
• Bailey's Irish Cream
• Maple Syrup

It's breakfast in a shot. Our shots got a little excessive because the ingredients were not measured out at all. So it turned into a plastic cup of breakfast madness.

We'd been hyping ourselves up about the Bacon Flip all week at work. And when I was stirring the egg up in my cup, I was very apprehensive. I also don't like eggs. I know, I don't think I'm really a native Iowan. But truth be told, the Bacon Flip was not nearly as awful as it could have been. The maple syrup masked everything. The worst part of the whole experience was feeling the egg go down because it was stringy and felt like a snot rocket.

The Bacon Flip was conquered. Let it be known.

Sailor Jerry

The really cool part of being stationed at Fort Lewis, Washington, is that Seattle is in my backyard. It's great to have a big city with tons of stuff to do so close. Plus, since Seattle is a hippie liberal city, the stuff they offer to do is usually really cool!

On Friday night, James and I went into the city to go see a documentary on Sailor Jerry, the legendary tattoo artist. Sailor Jerry has also become a brand of spiced rum that carries his likeness in a 92 proof bottle of awesomeness. I like tattoos. I like spiced rum. The whole concept is genius to me.

The venue the Sailor Jerry documentary was held at was an old theater that probably only held 150 people, MAX. As soon as we walked in, we were handed 2 free drink vouchers and free popcorn. No admission cost. Awesome. Upon entering the theater, there is a bar set up on the stage to redeem said free drinks. Even more awesome. I'm watching the bartender pour my Sailor Jerry and Coke, and it's easily 80% booze. Can this night get any more awesome, really!? Oh yes it can! A few minutes later the girl who was at the door handing out free drink vouchers came by and gave us 4 more! AWESOME!

Besides the free booze, which got me quite toasty, the documentary was really good. It was interesting. I learned a lot. And it was entertaining. I would have paid money to see it. When I leave Fort Lewis to go to Fort Campbell, I'm really going to miss Seattle. Nashville is close to Campbell, though. Maybe I'll be able to cook up some fun there, too.

Another 4 Years

Uncle Sam got me for another 4 years.

It's rough to sign a piece of paper that guarantees you will not make any of your own decisions for X amount of time. But, I'm happy with my decision. I love the Army. I had a 3 year break in service from 2005-2008 and I just wasn't as happy as a civilian. I need this craziness. That probably makes me a little warped, but crazy people generally do well in the military!

This reenlistment will take me to Fort Campbell, Kentucky. I do not have orders yet, so I don't know when my report date will be. I'm just glad I got the first post I asked for in the reenlistment process. I didn't have Big Army jerking me around. Fort Campbell is the home of Air Assault. That's repelling out of helicopters, in case you didn't know. So I'm really hoping I can go to that school and be a part of that tradition and madness.

Perhaps the longer you stay in the Army, the crazier you get...? I'll stay in 20+ years and do the research so you don't have to.

Reenlistment On Hold

I had plans to reenlist for another 4 years in this glorious Army today. However, there was an EFMB emergency and my reenlistment took a back seat to it. I don't know how an emergency for an event that isn't even happening until March disrupted everything, but it sure did.

Before I knew the ceremony wasn't going to happen, I signed my discharge paperwork. I didn't know that you have to be discharged first in order to reenlist. I thought it was pretty cool to see my name under the words Honorable Discharge, since I've never seen that before. Haha.

Since there was no ceremony, I suppose that means I am temporarily not a member of the Armed Services. Which technically means I could go smoke a fat blunt, pierce my face, dye my hair pink and cuss out a few choice individuals.... Of course I won't do that, but I sure as Hell am not going to be at work. I'm taking the day off until I get my damn ceremony tomorrow!

24 Hours

I had a 24 hour shift the day before Thanksgiving. From 0900 to 0900 I sat in a little room with one other Soldier and was in charge of quarters (CQ). The job description is to answer the phone during the day, and to make sure no shenanigans go on in the single Soldier dorms during the night. Nothing happened. Of course nothing happened. Nothing ever happens. But, someone has to be there in the off chance someone decides to get crazy.

So I sat. And did nothing for 24 hours. There is no TV. We're forbidden to use our laptops or to play games on anything electronic. They'd take away our phones if they could just to keep us from doing anything entertaining. Sleep is not allowed. If you are caught sleeping there are serious consequences. It's suggested to read Army manuals... but sleep is not allowed, so I stay away from reading said manuals.

Sitting in a building for 24 hours with shady signs like the one pictured above accomplishes one thing only. It's pretty much in the bag that I'm going to get cancer. Respirators and protective clothing are not provided for me to work in. That is bullshit. And I won't even be able to sue the Army for slowing killing me by forcing me to work in condemned buildings. You win again, Army....

Road Conditions Are RED

Fort Lewis basically shut down for the day. It snowed yesterday and last night so that means everyone in a 100 mile radius of the Puget Sound lost their damn minds and cannot properly operate heavy machinery, i.e. privately owned vehicles.

It's fine with me. I know how to drive in ice and snow. I'm an Iowa girl. It was bred into my bones to know how to deal with crappy weather. Also, I'm not a total retard and I can make educated decisions about how to safely navigate the roads. I can't say that's true for most of the rest of the population.

On my way to work this morning, because I was not notified the post was shut down until I was already at work, I saw at least 4 accidents. People were flying down I-5 like it was a beautiful summer day and then about 3 miles later I'd catch back up with them because they were nose first in a ditch. Silly Californians and Texans. Learn to drive where you live now, not where you used to live!

I was at work for a grand total of 45 minutes. Just long enough to tell all my Soldiers that they risked their lives to come to work for nothing and to, once again, risk their lives and go back home. It was rewarding. Go Army!

Cold Weather PTs

It's supposed to snow this weekend.

Yuck.

I understand that there are places in this country where it has already snowed this winter, but for the area of Washington that I live in, this is too soon. Waaaaay too soon, if you ask me.

I'm not a fan of being cold. At all. In fact, I'm a huge baby about being cold. I'd rather be hot any day than freeze. It seems like everything the Army issues for cold weather was not actually tested in cold weather. Or maybe a big fat guy with lots of fat cells to insulate him was chosen to test the gear. But most likely it was a big fat guy testing it in Florida who also zero fashion sense. Clearly (as pictured below) the Army needs a visit from Clinton and Stacey from What Not To Wear.

Not only is it a hideous PT uniform, it's also not warm. And wearing shorts under those pants is a huge pain in the ass because the shorts ride up so it's like wearing a diaper made out of a wind breaker. The pants also run about 6 sizes too small so if you're not careful, they can turn into PT leggings-- which are never long enough no matter what size you get. The long sleeve t-shirt worn under the jacket is actually a turtle neck. Who wants to run in a turtle neck? Who wants to leave the house PERIOD in a turtle neck?

Winter PTs need some serious help.

Cuteness Overload

I'm still certain Picasso is the cutest puppy in the world, quite possibly ever. I'm a proud puppy mommy and want to shove these pictures in every one's face! (But he's so cute, who could mind??)

Yes, Picasso wears clothes and he likes it. He's gotten fat and happy and naughty since I brought him home. His puppy teeth are as sharp as razors and he poops one hundred times a day. Thank goodness he's so cute.

Rain, Rain Go-Away

Oh Washington, I can't wait to see you in my rear view mirror and never have to look back.

I'm not on orders to leave Fort Lewis, Washington just yet. But I've put in my request to be relocated. I am no longer willing to play with Washington any more. Sure, it's a beautiful green state full of evergreen trees, but you know what? Everything is green for a reason: rain.

Rain, rain, rain. I'm sick of being soaked. I don't want to run in it, lay out inventories in it, drive in it, go to the range in it... and the list just goes on and on. I want to have several pairs of running shoes because I like to buy shoes, not because every set needs two days to dry out before you can run in them again.

A new bothersome thing about this particular area of Washington is the traffic. Fort Lewis is located right off Interstate 5. I-5 is the only north/south corridor running through Olympia, Tacoma and Seattle. Fort Lewis is smack in the middle of those busy cities. Every day I contend with Army traffic, civilian traffic, and commercial traffic all at once... and in the rain.

Today the traffic was so awful, my 10 mile trip home took an hour and 10 minutes. And it was raining. And it was super dark thanks to the day light savings time change last weekend. I go to work in the morning and it's dark. I come home from work at night and it's dark. It's also raining both ways.

Picasso Screams Like A Girl

People say puppies whine when they are alone in their crates for the first few nights.

Picasso screams like a wet cat and a banshee are giving birth in his crate when I put him in it. It's very disturbing. What is even more disturbing about his screaming is his endurance. That puppy can scream for hours before he tires himself out. My downstairs neighbor doesn't care for it too much. Said neighbor banged on my door around midnight a few days ago and gruffly explained that he "works for a living" and I need to "shut that animal up" or he will "complain to the office" and have him "removed".

So, I don't put Picasso in his crate at night anymore. Mean downstairs neighbor doesn't need to pay me any more intimidating midnight visits.

I don't care if it sounds like I'm torturing a pig in my house in the middle of the night; I am a Soldier proudly fighting for that freedom in the United States Army! Sheesh!

It's A Boy!

Meet Picasso The Destroyer of Worlds (yes, this is his official American Kennel Club name)!

I got this precious little French Bulldog two days ago and he's already stolen my heart and all of my time. I never knew I had a mothering instinct in me until this puppy came along. I love taking care of him and making him happy. I don't like to disturb him when he's sleeping in my lap and it really hurts my heart to hear him cry in his crate when I go to sleep at night. I want nothing more than to have him sleep with me in my bed, but something about an unpotty trained dog and a white comforter makes me reluctant.

I was aware that French Bulldogs have a unique bark, but you really can't get a good idea of what it's like until you hear it in the flesh. It's a cross between a dying cat and a screaming old woman. Really. It's disturbing to wake up to at 3am.

Wax Lips

Are you ever truly too old for wax lips?

I think not!

Hooting Owls

I stepped out on to my mom and dad's back porch around sun down this evening and I heard owls hooting. Yes, my parents live in Iowa, which most people think is all farm land, but they do not live on a farm and I've never heard hooting owls before. So went back inside to spread my joy and I ran into my dad first. I said, "Dad, did you know there are owls out back?" And he looked at me like I was freaking stupid. But my mom overheard my joy of owls from the back bedroom and was excited about the prospect of hooting owls, too. She came out to hear them. Mom spotted them. There were two of them.

It was spooky and very Halloweeny (hee hee, that sounds funny) for the owls to be hooting so close to the house this evening.

Dog Tags

I have an issue with Identification Tags, or Dog Tags. They are issued to Service people as a form of identification. Our name, social security number, blood type and religious affiliation appear on these tags. We are to wear them at all times while in our uniforms. Dog Tags were originally used to help identify bodies on the battle field or to help medical personnel identify an unconscious patient.

So what the Hell is wrong with Soldiers who want to wear them in their civilian clothes? Let me clarify, on the outside of their clothes. It's not a piece of jewelry. It's not pretty. If you want people to know you're in the Army that badly then just tell them. Your hair cut generally hints to your profession anyway. You don't need your social security number dangling around your neck to show off your military pride!

I also have a problem with wives and girlfriends that wear their Soldier's Dog Tags. I get it that you're proud. But do you get it that your man's social is dangling between your boobies or off your key chain and if you lose them you are putting his identity at risk? They were not issued to you, honey, to be cute. So leave them to the Service member to "rock" those dog tags.

I just wanted to get that off my chest.

Viva Las Vegas

I got my groove back, so to speak, in Las Vegas. My tolerance for alcohol and I were reunited. It was a joyous occasion. Tolerance certainly does include black outs. Tolerance to alcohol as defined by Jackie means the room is not spinning and I am not vomiting everywhere. Blacking out is perfectly acceptable, and actually preferred. When I black out I am still in motion, it's just like someone turned off the recorder. It's a very drunk, loud, out of control motion, but definitely motion.

Rosie and I managed to get cut off from a bar in Las Vegas and kicked out of the MGM Grand because I was black out drunk. I didn't even know you could get kicked out of a bar in Las Vegas. I don't think I was even too out of control... while I was still sitting at the bar. The second I stood up, it was all over. I fell into a slot machine and thought it was quite possibly the funniest thing ever.

I sat down on Las Vegas Blvd because I was laughing so hard I could not physically hold myself up any more. By the way, Las Vegas Blvd is quite possibly the dirtiest street in America. I'm sure I picked up an STD through my jeans.

Rosie made a decision to get food in me to try to sop up some of the booze. She took me to a food court with a Del Taco, bless her heart. I devoured a burrito like I hadn't eaten in a month. I also made a loud, laughing scene. So loud that Rosie took pictures of me:

She wasn't the only one who took pictures. A man behind me took pictures of the spectacle I was making. Rosie told me, "The Mexican Elvis behind you is photographing you." Well, I hated that idea and went on a drunk yelling rampage about how rude that was. I turned around and yelled at Mexican Elvis. It was a string of obscenities, but I got my point across. Rosie removed me from the food court as quickly as possible.

I'm glad Rosie was sober enough to handle me. She's a good friend to deal with me! I knew I'd be able to get my groove back sooner or later. It just took a weekend in Las Vegas to find it.

Cirque Du Soleil

I celebrated my 27th birthday in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada this weekend with one of my VERY best friends, Rosie. It was a great trip! The highlight was when we saw the Cirque Du Soleil Beatles show, "Love". It was very fitting for Rosie and I to see that show together, since we are both long time Beatles freaks... I mean fans. Also, we saw "Love" on October 9th, which happened to be John Lennon's 70th birthday. I am a freak for knowing that trivia fact.

The show was an audio/visual orgasm. I'd never seen a Vegas show before. It sounds so old person to me. But it turned out to be amazing and now I'm a fan of the Vegas productions. I'll go to more. Because there are more trips to Las Vegas planned. There always should be.

Uncasing Ceremony

Today was the Uncasing of the Colors Ceremony. Before we left for Iraq over a year ago, we had a ceremony to case the colors. Basically we put our brigade and battalion flags in an ACU printed sock and left them in it while we went to war. Now that we're back, we can remove it from the sock and add a little streamer on the flag that says we were awesome on our deployment. It's a long ceremony. People give speeches. The I Corps band plays their instruments. Soldiers stand at attention. There is singing involved.

I lucked out and got to pull medical coverage. Which basically meant I stood behind the spectator bleachers with a litter and an aid bag and talked shit with 2 other medics. There was a lot to talk shit on. I love getting to see Soldier's wives. Because all Soldiers generally look the same, but wives come in all shapes and sizes and classiness.

There were an insane amount of babies present. If you do the math, that means most Soldiers had a really good mid-tour leave with their wives or there was some scandalous stuff going on while Daddy was at war. There even seemed to be designated, yet unmarked, stroller parking behind the bleachers.

The best part of this particular ceremony is that it kicked off our block leave period. 30 days where every Soldier who deployed has a chance to take leave and finally relax and go on vacation. I have quite the vacation planned for myself. First off: Las Vegas with my bestie. Then I'll be whisked away to wonderful Richmond, Virginia to visit another bestie. Lastly, but certainly not least, I'll go to fabulous Davenport, Iowa to visit my fabulous parents! It'll be nice to put my uniform away and feel like a real human being for a month.

Mourning A Dear Friend

I am in a state of deep mourning. I lost something very dear to me. Something I fear I will never find again, even with a lifetime of training. I feel lost. I feel alone. I feel deep regret.

I lost my alcohol tolerance.

That's right folks. I was in the best drinking shape of my life before taking that vacation to Iraq for 12 months. I was a champion, a master of my craft. I could have gone places and been someone, you know? But it's gone now. I'm starting at square one.

It's scary to start over. I feel like I might accidentally be that girl who gets too drunk too fast and makes an ass out of herself. An amateur. I prefer to make an ass out of myself after having an outrageous amount of booze so people are more understanding of my situation. "Oh, she's flashing the bartender because she's had 17 shots of Jack Daniels," is way more hard core than, "Holy crap, she's only had 2 beers and she's puking in the street."

Last night I got pretty tossed off of 3 Long Island Iced Teas. I didn't puke in the street or show my boobs to strangers. I wasn't that wrecked. But I wasn't at a level I was comfortable with, either. I've got to find my alcohol tolerance and self respect! ASAP.

NCO Run

I don't know why, but the Army thinks it's necessary to celebrate things by running. Thanksgiving? Let's run! Martin Luther King Jr Day? Let's run! 4 day weekend with no holiday significance? Let's run! It's Friday? Let's run!

So this morning we ran to celebrate the 43 brand new Non Commissioned Officers that were promoted down range in Iraq. Every NCO in the battalion got together (that was a whole lot of people, too) with our Command Sergeant Major and she took us on a run from Hell in honor of all of us newbies.

I understand the tradition. CSM Walter tried to pump us up and motivate us with a speech about how we are the backbone of the Army and nothing would get done without us. But personally, I do not like being physically exhausted by 0730 in the morning. I do not wish to celebrate an important career milestone that way. Sweating and wishing for sweet death does not equal a party for me. I felt no joy the entire run, until we stopped and I could finally catch my breath and put the flames out in my calves.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job and I love being a Non Commissioned Officer. But jeesh, can we for once just celebrate with beers?

Pike Place Market

I went to Pike Place Market in Seattle for the first time yesterday. Never mind that I've been stationed at Fort Lewis for over 2 years and I have yet to explore Seattle. There was a lot of liquor to drink closer to home so that's what I concentrated on when I first came up to Washington. Now that I feel like I've conquered the liquor battle, I can move on to more touristy and day-light activities.

The Market was packed, but that's because it was a beautiful, warm, sunny Saturday. And let's face it, in Seattle, that happens approximately twice a year. I bought a few nick-knacks at some of the shops, got possibly the most beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers and had amazing Chinese food.

I witnessed and Asian tourist posing for a picture with a street bum. The guy's poor son was taking a picture of his dad giving a bum a quarter. I bet that poor street guy was absolutely mortified. Silly Asian tourists.

I finally saw the famous "gum wall". It was pretty gross. But impressive. I half expected it to smell minty fresh down that alley, but it mostly just smelled like a gross damp alley.

Exploring the area I live is fun! Now I'm going to have to pick another place to visit next weekend... weather permitting of course.

I'm Legal!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'm legal! Finally! Legally (and happily) divorced!

Cheers to the bachelorette life!

Now, I've got to see about getting my old last name back. Being a "W" and at the end of the alphabet backfires a lot on me in the military. Never, ever, is anything good done in reverse alphabetical order. Back to the "D" life at the beginning of the line that I missed so much!

JBLM

While I was gone, things happened at Fort Lewis. Most noticeably, it's name changed! No longer are the days of Fort Lewis and McChord Air Force Base as separate entities. They mutated together to form Joint Base Lewis-McChord, or, JBLM for short. Of course there's an acronym; the Army is involved.

Nothing really has changed since we joined forces. I mean, the Army still demeans the Air Force like it's our job. The Air Force still uses our hospital, like they have all along. The Air Force still has better housing and chow halls. There isn't even a road that connects the two bases even though they are only one exit apart on the freeway.

So it's kinda like saying we'll play nice with one another, but only in theory.

Mountain Of Debris

I moved into my new apartment over the weekend. It's a cute little one bedroom apartment in a shitty little town outside Fort Lewis. I'm really happy to have all of my loot again and to not have a roommate. I'm taking advantage of not having to put shoes on to use the bathroom, of choosing where and what I want to eat, and driving a vehicle that is not up armored.

I'm finally getting used to being back in the States. Even if it has rained almost every day since I've been back.

I have a mountain of debris left over from the move. The movers are supposed to pick up the looming pile of garbage, but their hours of availability don't really line up with my hours of availability. So I may have to dispose of it myself, which I really don't want to do. I live on the third floor, and something about not being able to see my feet while descending wet stairs seems like disaster waiting to happen.

As soon as I get my home all set up, I'll post pics.

Yay! It's so good to be back!

I Loathe Montana

I left my Ford Escape in Iowa with my parents while I spent the year vacationing in Iraq. It was a good deal, my SUV was looked after by people I know, and the people I know had a 2008 SUV play with. The bummer side of this arrangement was that I had to go get my SUV. It's a 30 hour trip from Davenport, Iowa to Fort Lewis, Washington. Oh, and I made the trip 24 hours after landing back in the United States. Sheesh, I don't always make the safest decisions, but nothing bad happened on my half cross country trip.

Before I left my parent's house for the driving bonanza, I called my Grandma DeGraf to let her know I was home safe from Iraq. I told her I was going to drive back to Washington (stupidly). Her advise was to lock my doors and not talk to strangers. She also suggested I only get gas during daylight hours. I don't know why I even opened my mouth.

I made the trip in 3 days, and I think all of day 2 was spent in Montana. I loathe Montana. Not only is there nothing there, the nothing takes up a whole lot of space. I was slamming Rockstar Energy Drinks to keep focused on the road. The problem with energy drinks is that they run right through you. The problem with drinking them in Montana is that the rest stops are all approximately 100 miles apart.

So I leaped from my SUV at some random rest stop and flew into the non-modern bathroom, if you know what I mean, to take care of some business. Relief. I decided to stretch my legs and took a stroll through the grass.

Isn't that cute? A doggy rest stop right next to the person rest stop. I think the dog's potty may have been cleaner. So I snapped a picture like a weird tourist. And that's when I noticed the sky was about to open up any second and pour all over me. So I walked back through the grass to hop in my SUV, and I came face to face with this.

Holy crap, Montana. Seriously? There isn't a hospital in hundreds of miles! Thanks for posting the sign after I practically did cartwheels through your grass! Before, I hated Montana based solely on it's size. But now I can add 'dangerous wildlife' to my list.