How 2013 Will Be Different: A Year In Review...Sort Of

Every year brings such hope and promise, right? It's a time to start anew and make necessary changes, yes? Bull. The fact is EVERY SECOND we're alive and breathing and capable brings hope and promise. Every minute is a new blessing. Every hour brings an opportunity to do better; you don't have to wait until the next day or week or month. This is the one thing I've learned in the past year, and probably something I've known all along but was too afraid to admit.

Right now, I'm focusing on me and mine, and hope to carry this on moving forward. Listen, I had fun in 2012: learned about my health, traveled, rocked some great hair, but I didn't do a lot of the important things I wanted to accomplish. My goals for 2013 are simple, and will surely help me accomplish so many positive things. I haven't sat down and planned my attack yet because I just want to let my brain get there naturally and on its own time. The only thing I'm certain of at this moment is that, for the rest of my life, all I want to do is:

• Put family first
• Write
• Dance
• Be outside
• Love my body

All the rest will fall into place.

*smooches..wishing you all a happy, healthy and prosperous future*
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yes, I still have a thing for the number five. shut up.

Love Letter To The Night Sky

very similar to what I saw last night

You ever look up at the moon and think you're looking at a film starring the moon? The clouds pass over it slowly, then quickly, and it's as if you're watching one of those time-elapsed videos online. Except it's real and happening right outside your window.

You get moments of bright moonlight right in your eyes, and then shadowy shapes engulf your neighborhood. You almost expect to hear a wolf howl in the background, and every strange noise made by your refrigerator or the next door neighbor makes you turn around suddenly, expecting a monster to appear from the closet and face you.

It's a thrill, then a moment of zen, when you realize that, at two in the morning, everyone in your building is asleep, and most likely everyone on your block is in bed, too, so it's just you and the moon and the thrill and the zen. The thrill and the zen. The thrill and the zen. You can almost reach outside of your window and grab that little glowy orb from the sky and place it under your pillow.

Sweet dreams would surely follow!

*smooches...gifting you a late Christmas treat*
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go ahead and tell me how AWESOME I am :)

It's No Longer About Weight Loss: A Healthy Jaded Update

I've been to see another holistic counselor. It's not cheap, but I'm choosing to see it as a necessary expense in my quest to find peace in this skin.

I realized the error I made with the others: I was focused too much on losing weight. "I want to drop about 20 more pounds" would always come before "I'd like to do something non-surgical about these fibroids." With this new counselor I did the reverse. I told her in no uncertain terms that I care not about weight loss anymore; I just DON'T want to go under the knife. I want to not have these things pressing on my bladder and colon. I want to feel better!

After a couple of sessions and a plan of action, I feel confident this will work for me. Of course, it's requiring a lot of discipline on my part, and you already know how rebellious I can be. More than anything, though, I'm working on wrapping my head around the lifestyle change I have to make for the long haul. I can no longer avoid it. Forty is creeping up on me and before you know it HERE COMES FIFTY!

Of course, once menopause sets in the fibroids cease to be an issue, but in the meantime I'm in a battle for my health. If, as a side effect of living cleaner, I happen to lose a few pounds here and there, well goody for me.

*smooches...working on being a better me*
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again.

How I Feel About Life And Writing

"I hold my breath when I'm here and I can't breathe when I'm not. But at least when I'm dancing I know what to work on. There's a way to fix things." -Tara Webster, "Dance Academy"

*smooches..realizing what's been missing this year*
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I haven't been writing, y'all. I haven't been writing...

From My Home...

...to yours.

Happy Holidays from The Jaded Familia

We're so gorgeous!

*smooches...wishing you lots of love and family*
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how are you spending the holidays?

A Jaded Moment In History Presents: Diva Behavior

The best part of going to my Mami's house is hearing about our childhood. Today's story revolved around ME and how much of a princess I was as a little girl.

Mami used to work for a preeminent music and entertainment magazine, Latin NY, and her gig came with backstage perks and access to the salsa and merengue stars of the 70s and 80s. Which meant that I had access to these folks, too.

As Mami tells it, when Bobby Rodriguez came out with the single "What Happened?" I was completely obsessed with it, so much so that I would cry when the song would end. Mami said it was a mad dash to find the song playing on another station to get me to stop crying, but remember back then Latin music wasn't in heavy rotation on the airwaves. Also, the album hadn't dropped yet, so she wasn't able to buy it for me, either. I was told I was inconsolable!

Finally, she contacted to record label and got a copy of the album, BEFORE it was released. Because her little princess needed to listen to "What Happened?" over and over again.



And in case you don't believe in my privileged childhood, let me tell you about how Mami told Bobby Rodriguez that I wanted to play the flute like him (a Pita-Bobby as I called it) and he sent me one. Marinate on that.

*smooches...flipping my hair back and forth*
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ahhhh, the good ol days...

Still Here

Listen- if you live every day to the fullest, being the best you possible, then rumors of an alleged apocalypse should not phase you. "We're here for a good time, not a long time."

This year I've really worked hard to teach myself not to stress over things I cannot change. If the earth decides to implode upon itself what do y'all expect me to do about that? I can't freak out! I have to press on and act as if I have all the time in the world to watch the rest of "Dance Academy" on Netflix.

And I don't want to hear about signs of the apocalypse in the form of national and international tragedies. I refuse to spend the rest of my days in mourning (except for Grandma because SHE'S GRANDMA, DAMMIT!). I want to LIVE LIVE LIVE and then LIVE some more.

So y'all can BOO HOO about sad news and the end of days all you want. I'm and still living, and too cute to worry about all that nonsense.

Now that that's all settled... WE DANCE!



*smooches...grateful for everyday*
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I try and celebrate every day I get with music, which I'm sure you already knew...

Just For Fun.

In case the rumors are right.



If you need the lyrics, it goes:

mfnvrougb bh hg igrigj nggjgjnmo bhjwgnh naoja j gburgiarg voihrgwigna aihgwignwpig  iajgrpawgn ]K HJ 9HNHJBNUOB iehgbnebne'b sgkngnpingag b a jjwgjwogma rjgipwnwgnkb aknaignak kangab fi hwnrJ[0r joejOJ LEONARD BERNSTEIN!

Everybody sing along!

*smooches...okay with whatever happens*
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in the end, I have control over none of it. So...brunch on Sunday...who's in?

Sorry I'm Not

A few weeks ago I found myself at BOOKOFF in Manhattan, and purchased Ani DiFranco's "Not a Pretty Girl" CD, finally. In case you're wondering, this brings the count of Ani CDs I own up to 15, and there are still so many more to be had. Her discography is expansive, folks! It's the musical equivalent of Samuel L. Jackson's filmography.

In any case, "Not a Pretty Girl" contains one song in particular that really helped me come to terms with the fact that in order to be happy (or at least on the road to happy) I needed to hurt a lot of people and end my marriage: "Sorry I Am."



While listening to it again for the first time in a while, I remember that feeling of forgiving myself for having to put me first. Isn't that a funny concept? Apologizing for putting myself first? Well, that's what I have to do sometimes in order to be OK with me, because I was raised to always think of others first:

"Papi gets to serve himself first at dinner because he's the man of the house."
"You have to come home right after school and take care of your sister."
"No more partying for you; you're pregnant."
"No application to Oxford University until you no longer have to worry about your custody agreement."

In about 90% of my life, others come first. When I decided to end my marriage I thought of me first, and Ani helped me be OK with that. Buying this CD brought back all those thoughts and reminded me that it's OK to be OK with some selfishness, even if it comes with an apology.

What do you (need to) apologize to yourself for?

*smooches...not sorry anymore*
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in the end, an unhappy wife makes for an unhappy life, no? I did that man a favor!

Today I Will (12.18.12)

(The history behind these activities can be found here, and if you click here you will see all the previous posts I wrote on them. Thank you to Irene for having the forethought to buy me this book for blog material.)

Activity #13: Today I will pick a room in my house and organize it.

"After you have removed some of the clutter in the room, find a place for everything... Once...the room is arranged in an organized fashion, you will feel much more relaxed and happy."

Sweet Jesus. This particular activity is a long time coming for me. About seven years long, actually. You all know I've been in this apartment forever and am still living as if this place is a temporary arrangement; a dorm room; a room in my momma's basement. Although if I had the latter I would not be allowed to be so flippant with its tidiness.

Anyslobs...all the rooms in my tiny, Brooklyn cubby need organizing. ALL OF THEM. My bedroom is a disaster. The kitchen is blah. The bathroom, front room, hall closet, kids' room...all a hot mess.I do acknowledge that the mess and chaos affect me mentally and physically, but I've not been able to unblock the thing in me that is preventing me from making things better.

So you guys decide. Pick a room or space in my apartment and I will start there and not stop until the whole place looks like something out of a broke Martha Stewart Living magazine. The most votes win. And of course I'll post before/after pics of everything. Why not. You've seen my mess before.

Leave it in the comments!

*smooches...ready for action*
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and it only took a silly book and seven years to get me motivated.

My Hair Is LAID...

Found my old HS ID card. Of all the things I did this weekend, coming across this card in an old wallet was the only thing I saw fit to report on.

The photo, ladies and gentlemen of the internets, is freaking AWESOME. Look at that blazer, son! And the silver hoops? You couldn't tell me SHIT.

Back then I was BIG on wearing silky dress shirts, men's sport jackets and baggy jeans, loads of silver jewelry and big Dominican hair. WHATCHU KNOW ABOUT THAT??

That's a FRESH Dominican blowout, my dude!

Get into it!

*smooches...curious about your HS pics*
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feel free to share some with me :)

Memorize This Choreography

It will be on the final exam.



Also, I want to be this little girl when I grow up...

*smooches...enjoying the soundtrack of my life*
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but for real, learn this dance. we've already started over here

Prologue

Once it is in your veins, once you have tasted its taboo sweetness, once you have basked in its afterglow, you are hooked.

In this haze, this pleasurable, orgasmic euphoria, nothing else exists but you and it. There are no bills to pay, no kids to feed, no deadlines to meet. Only a cool buzzing in your ears and a tingling in your limbs; a smile on your lips, a glaze in your eyes.

In this haze your mistakes are erased, the space-time continuum tears open and lets you revise yourself, become more of who you think you should've been had you made different choices.

Out of the haze, you realize, had you made different choices, you might have never known the pleasurable orgasmic euphoria of it. Had the space-time continuum really allowed you to revise yourself, you might not have become the kind of person who succumbs to it. And it's a gamble whether or not it is a better or worse existence.

So you need more, and more, and even more of that sweet taboo. You need it to help you forget the past, avoid the present and postpone the future. You need it because with it you are made new, and part of you really likes the high.

And when you are forced to face your addiction, the stark realization of how much you depended on it, how much of yourself got lost to accommodate it in your life, buries you into a black hole of misery and fabricated memories. You forget what was real and what only appeared because you had it in your blood.

And you struggle to stay off the horse in every minute of every day, which would be easier if you did not live across the street from the barn. All you can do is cross that street and come face to face with it in every minute of every day, and wait for what will happen next.

A buzzing high? Or a passing phase?
Depends on where you've hidden your reins...

*smooches...finding this still relevant in my life*
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don't ask.



Prologue by Raquel I. Penzo is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Good.

It's about 10 minutes before this day is supposed to be done, this 12.12.12 that everyone was making such a huge deal about. I didn't feel any different today, though, but I can tell you that:

1- I got my period, rather quietly, and I'm wondering if the cramps are planning to attack me tomorrow or Friday, or if my uterus has finally noticed the white flag I've been waving since 1986.

2- I pitched an idea for this summer campaign at work and the client liked it and it's a go. I have my first "creative" meeting to flesh out the concept on Friday. This is it, folks; this is where I show the good people I work with just what I'm made of.

3- The IT department at work threw the kickin-est holiday party ever! I mean food, XBox, karaoke, live band- EVERYTHING! I must get them a very nice thank you token; perhaps some of this new batch of coquito that I plan to conquer.

4- Our new "standing desk" was installed today- WOOHOO! Never again will I have to suffer an entire day in the office SITTING. I can alleviate my back, calves and make sure my blood is circulating and still get work done. Standing desk for the mother-fucking WIN!

5- I watched "Hart of Dixie" this morning and SPOILER ALERT: Wade & Zoe are an actual couple now. YAY!!!!! Now, let's hope the writers don't fuck it up...

It's rare that my day rock so awesomely, especially when I didn't even want to get out of bed this morning. Maybe the 12s were working for me after all.

*smooches...hoping all of your days are memorable*
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what did you do today?

The Great Coquito Experiment

Sometimes I get an idea in my head to make something I've never made before, just because. Last week I decided I wanted to make a coquito (Puerto Rican eggnog) for a holiday party I was attending. ::sigh:: So here's what happened.

I don't know anyone who knows how to make this drink, and I've only ever had it once in my life at a Midtown-east restaurant. So of course I google-searched a recipe that I thought looked "right" and "authentic" and got to work.

First of all, there were too many liquid ingredients for the blender I was using, and I'm not very good at improvising things like that. Already I'm starting to panic. Then, I didn't have any cinnamon. WHAT IS EGGNOG WITHOUT CINNAMON? I thought I could use ground cloves instead. ::double sigh:: While all this disaster is happening in the kitchen, I'm starting to get the shakes because STUPID ME decided that a spoonful of condensed milk would be a yummy treat and would not affect me negatively at all. It was as if I were on a suicide mission...

Finally, the drink mix is "done" according to the recipe, but it's not thick like eggnog and the cloves were overpowering the life out of that drink. Also: RUM. The recipe called for only a cup of rum but honestly, it tasted like a gallon. Or maybe I'm just not used to drinking anymore. Whatever the case: RUM.

I waited for an independent taster (Irene) to give me her verdict and she didn't seem impressed, but it had RUM so she kept it. The portion I brought home I gave to my ex (who said it was good but maybe he was just being nice) when he dropped the girls off; I tried drinking it and my stomach yelled "RUM" and "CONDENSED MILK" and quickly asked the beverage to LEAVE the same way it came. Hot. Mess.

But you know what, I won't be defeated by this drink. I looked up a different recipe (this time I'm using one written by Daisy Martinez) and am going to try it again this weekend. It WILL be tasty. I will NOT eat a spoonful of condensed milk. I WILL make sure there is cinnamon in the house. People will come from miles around to have some of The Jaded NYer's FAMOUS COQUITO (with a little help from Daisy Martinez) and once again my plan to take over the world will succeed I will be a master of the kitchen.

Now all you have to do is invite me to your holiday party.

*smooches...looking for more guinea pigs tasters*
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just humor me; this too shall pass

Scared And Sad Mortal

I'm a little embarrassed and ashamed to admit that, at my grandmother's funeral, I was THAT GIRL who, had Mari and Mami not held me back, almost threw herself at the coffin. It was like Logical Raquel had stepped outside of this body and just left me with the wackadoos, and the wackadoos convinced The Voices that my grandmother was unable to breathe in such a small box, so we needed to free her from it. That was me. High marks in biology and chemistry; dissected a fetal pig without blinking an eye; watched countless videos of women giving birth without flinching; made up slides for an art professor of an autopsy book for her class. I still managed to believe that my dead grandmother could not breathe in her coffin, and I was the only one who could save her.

In the midst of PMS Week, undoubtedly the lowest time for me mentally, physically and emotionally, I'm forced to face my own mortality via some very real situations claiming--or threatening to claim--lives all around me. And I don't want to make this about me because there are folks mourning a whole lot deeper and stronger than I am right now for what's happening, but I don't like to be reminded of death. I suppose it's not really anyone's favorite topic, but me especially. And I really don't like it when it hits close to home.

When K was little she would say how she wanted her whole family to all live in one house so that we'd always be together and no one would ever leave. What a beautifully naive thought--no one ever leaving. How my little baby used to cry her little heart out whenever we had to leave someone's house, or the movie credits began to roll (because the movie was "leaving" her), or someone said goodbye. It's like she knew: this could be the last time I see you. Every time could be the last time I see you.

And that's a frightening thought.

Don't let the last time you see someone you love be unmemorable.

Every time could be the last time.

*smooches...trying to be at peace with the circle of life*
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kiss someone and mean it; hug someone and mean it; say I love you and mean it. every-damn-time.

Carnival Is A-Comin'...

It's been a few years now since I was introduced to Trinidadian soca fetin' complete with jumping and waving and winin' my waist, and I must admit it's still my number one obsession. Don't ask me about the latest salsa or merengue hits, because I don't know. But the 2013 carnival season soca songs? I'M ON IT!

Here are some I'm enjoying to get you pumped up for all the parties next year (culminating on the Parkway in the fall, which I might do again):










(This is the same riddim as Machel's song I think; the producers behind the Precision Productions are like soca geniuses or something!)

See ya in these soca streets!

*smooches...deciding that soca music cures all ills*
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I think that's why I'm so drawn to it; it counteracts my depression

Because I Forgot To Post On Thursday

...I'm sneaking in on Sunday night to pre-date something real quick. I know I said I would stop doing that but alas, blah blah blah, excuse, excuse, excuse.

So here's my fake-Thursday-but-really-Sunday blog post: the Three Amigas on Thanksgiving (seeing as I didn't do a Thanksgiving post this year).

L to r: Crazy Mari, Lovely Me, Crazy Mami

What did we eat...hmmm, I remember there was rice and turkey, oh and Mari made a shrimp scampi and butternut squash soup. OH!! And Mami attempted and was successful at making some tostones cups. CHILD! They were the hit of the night! We all agreed that she needed to make them again (and again and again). And I made a pumpkin souffle that I didn't care for but everyone else enjoyed. It was an all-around good and yummy night.

Especially fun? Mami needing to go to bed after half a glass of white wine. Not so fun? Besides the bickering, realizing that the neighbors (renters!) are letting their nasty ass dog shit in Mami's yard. REALLY, THO? None of us went over there to say something because we couldn't trust any of our stankness levels to be low enough to be polite.

I was also low-key nervous about starting a feud with people BOLD enough to let their dog shit in my mom's yard like that. Who knows if, after I tell them off and then return to Brooklyn, they try to harass or harm my mom? Nah; couldn't take a chance.

How did y'all stuff your faces this year?

*smooches...really loving my hair in that pic*
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I'm getting better at styling it

A Lesson From My Blog Break

First- MY BAD that I forgot to greet you all when I came back from my blog break with some crunktastical tunes like I usually do. What a terrible host I am! Rock out to this and we'll call it even, yes?



So. I took a random two-week break from blogging, brought on in part by some natural disasters, as well as my need to reassess what is important in my life and what isn't.

IMPORTANT: My family and close friends//My well-being//Writing//Living my life like it's golden.
NOT IMPORTANT: Everything else.

One thing I have discovered during my break is that I cannot do everything. I cannot fix the world (at least not by myself). Also, I cannot help someone who is not open or ready to receive my help (you can lead a horse to water and all that good stuff). And I especially can't, or rather shouldn't, help someone who did not request it. This revelation alone will lift so many weights off my shoulder.

Y'all not about to have me out here going crazy trying to make your life better while fibroids the size of Mount Kilimanjaro continue grow in my uterus due to adrenal fatigue because I'm allowing myself to get stressed with your bullshit. Nah, son. Those days are over.

I wish you well, I really do, but not at my own expense. PEACE.

*smooches...chillin' like a villain*
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heart disease runs in my family, too, so I can't fuck around with my blood pressure

All Dem Questions

I saw this on The Frenemy's Tumblr site and it looked like fun questions. There were 26 in all but I chose the ones I felt like answering and bolded them in a large font for your reading pleasure. I keeps it real like that. Indulge me for a few minutes...


A. If you could legally punch somebody in the throat ONCE, would you do it because you were watching a TV show and this person did that light but constant coughy thing the entire time? Walking slow in front of you? Or for some other reason? THE COUGHY THING! I hate that shit! When the girls are sick with a cold and are coughing all up and through my house, OH MY GOD I get so annoyed.

B. What is your favorite piece of clothing in your closet and if your blood got you drunk would you sometimes drink it?

C. Would you rather go to a party where you know nobody and make small talk for two hours or watch that piece of shit movie Savages with Blake Lively two times in a row?

D. This guy wants to pay you ten thousand dollars to show a three minute clip of you having sex at his next dinner party. Ten people will be there. One of those people will be somebody you know, but you don’t know WHO. You do that, or what? What kind of sex would you be having? It would be a tape of me making love to my sofa, also known as falling asleep on the sofa after too many wings while watching a bad "African American" film on Netflix. Like Money Matters or Rain.

E. You can bring five foods/drinks to a desert island. What are they? Or, if you’d like another food question, describe the cupcake that a bakery has named after you.

F. Rihanna will read a tweet you direct at her. What does it say? GIRL, BYE!

G. Tell me your best possible Sunday, if you could have it go as you choose.

H. If you had a robot that could do only one thing, would you make it imitate Robert DeNiro and call him Robot DeNiro or what? You got a fucking better idea? What is it?

I. Would you say you hatefollow more people on Tumblr or Facebook? Give a brief summary of the person you hatefollow the most on Facebook.

J. If you were remaking a liveaction Disney movie, who would you cast in it and you can’t cast Darren Criss. Ooh, Snow White with Rory Gil... errr, I mean Alexis Bledel in the lead. Or Aladdin with that girl who played Taina on Nickelodeon as Princess Jasmine.

K. Tell me three texts you would send if the people receiving them wouldn’t remember them the next day. Not the person they are for, just the texts themselves here.

L. Create an American Girl Doll. Mine would definitely be an Anne Boleyn one and her head pops off.

M. What do you think would be the most perfect gift somebody could give you? Sometimes I think of these great gifts for myself and wish people would give them to me. A house--in Brooklyn--equipped with a maid, chef and a personal trainer.

N. What would be the song you want to hear before you die? Wotless.

O. What would be your Jeopardy tidbit you told Alex Trebek when he does that little “tell me about yourself” thing after the commercial break?

P. Congratulations, you’re a Real Housewife. What would your intro quote be in the credits? (I.E. I may be short but I’m not short on cash or prescription pill addictions) This is so funny because I was JUST discussing this on The Twitter recently. I think I might have settled on "I'm from Brooklyn; I ain't got time for the bullshit."

Q. What is the thing you always hope these Questionnaires will ask you because you want to answer it? Go ahead and just answer anything because I know you want me to ask you a specific question, probably about a crush.

R. What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to somebody? I DO.

S. The song you dance to the most in your bedroom is... Slow Wine.

T. Who do you think, at this point in your life, is most likely to murder you? K.

U. You have a choice: watch ONLY romantic comedies for a whole year or no movies for a whole year. What do you choose?

V. Cancel one television show RIGHT NOW BIG RICH MOTHERFUCKING TEXAS!! I don't like the hold it has over me...

W. What, if any, is the Cosmopolitan sex tip you actually use?

X. You’re a Food Network executive. What would be the show you pitch to the network? Mine is called Trough of Love, a show where reality stars eat nacho cheese with their hands tied behind their backs, hosted by Guy Fieri and Nick Lachey. I've actually thought of this before: a cooking show for broke-ass college kids. My tuna casserole is KILLER. Right, Celia?

Y. Cast and name a television show about yourself, on NBC. The Jaded Chronicles starring Maya Rudolph as me, Zoe Kravitz as K and Amandla Stenberg as N. Mari would have to be played by Rosario Dawson regardless of the age difference because JESUS LORD THE RESEMBLANCE.

Tell me I'm lying...

And Mami would just play herself; trust me. The rest of y'all, feel free to cast yourselves (except you, Cathi; Ali Larter already won the role.).

Z. What revenge would you take on the last person who broke your heart? I don't need to; he's probably fat and bald by now anyway.



Feel free to answer any or all of these in the comments. I've got all day.

*smooches...lightening the mood around here*
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also, why y'all so quiet? it was only a 2-week break!

Meet Me On Sunday.

If you're dying to experience the awesomeness that is the great author-ess Raquel "The Jaded NYer" Penzo, here's another chance:

"Meet your local author day!" at La Casa Azul Bookstore

Sunday December 9, 2pm - 5pm

The shelves of La Casa Azul Bookstore have books written by over 80 local/Latin@ authors. Join us for a special event in which book lovers will have the opportunity to meet THIRTY of them!

This is a perfect opportunity to buy books for everyone on your list --- books make great gifts!

Who will be there? Check out the FULL author roster online.

La Casa Azul Bookstore

143 E. 103rd Street (between Lexington & Park Ave)

*smooches...trying to get back in the swing of things*
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how am I doing? do I sound enthused?

Jaded Photographs: December 2012 Edition

"Why Kids Get Beat"

Can I nap in PEACE?

After I spent my money and my time to take this ungrateful heffa all the way up to Boston to visit colleges she had THE NERVE to disturb my most sacred of rituals: daytime bus sleeping.

And I'm sure her sister giggled her bony ass off as the picture was being taken. Rude ass kids... I mean, she's lucky to still be alive after pulling this stunt!

*smooches...unafraid to show my ugly sleeping face*
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it's not like y'all have to wake up next to me or anything