So...What Have You Been Up To Lately?

Who, me? Well, lately I've been a bit busy. Sid and Andie had their third child at the end of last month! Another boy who we will call New Baby because that is what his older brothers Conan and Mothra call him. And I find that HILARIOUS. So, I was out there visiting them. We had fun playing Wii late at night. As ever, both Sid and Andie TROUNCED me at Tetris. But I railed them both at Mario Bros. so that was a good time. And they made me watch several episodes of Blackadder and I fell in LOVE with the show and um...Rowan Atkinson. No one told me that he is stone-cold foxy in the second series of that show. It was quite shocking!

Mame has some delightful news for you all, but I'll let her tell you when she gets a chance!

I've been devouring movies, television and books lately. Here's a quick round-up (Another blog post concerning my most recent obsession will follow shortly):

• Iron Man 2: loved it. I thought it was better than the first film! I'm not notably a Scarlet Johansson fan but that scene where she walks down that hallway, KICKING ASS almost had me in tears at it's awesomeness.
  
• The Ghost Writer: it was fine. A nifty, well-crafted little thriller. Ewan McGregor showed his ass, AS USUAL. If you can square it with your conscience to go see a Roman Polanksi film, check it out.
  
• Twilight and New Moon with the RiffTrax commentary. OH MY GOD. HILARITY. I highly, highly recommend them. I watched it with Sorcha and a bunch of friends and my stomach hurt from laughing.
• Just read the latest Sookie Stackhouse book, Dead in the Family and it was awesome as usual. Could have been filthier though. Alas. I can't wait for the next season of the show.
  
• I'm currently reading an awesome zombie book called Feed by Mira Grant. Love, love, LOVE it. I'm about halfway through and if you like zombies, and really. Who doesn't? Check it out.
  
• Treme, Justified and Doctor Who continue to be great.
• Michael Sheen continues to be hot.

What have you been watching/reading/devouring lately?

The Olympics: 2010 and 2008

Ok, I am a lifelong sports hater. Hate. Hate. HATE. I am actively hostile to sports*, all sporting events and most fans when they try to talk to me about sports. Sports fans are almost as bad as fans of The Family Guy for how much they try to talk to you, the uninterested party, about their favored topic. (Sorry, guys. I dislike The Family Guy. No, I don't think it's offensive. I just don't find it funny. You can describe scenes from it, many have tried: Mame, Beau, BW, Homer, my friend from work Vett...it just doesn't work for me. That's not quite true. It'll SOUND funny to me when you tell me about it, but then I go to watch it and...Zzzzzzz...)

BUT I LOVE THE OLYMPICS. Particularly the Winter Olympics! Figure skating! Speed skating! Skiing! Snowboarding! Sports I don't understand like curling and bobsledding (EGT and I can't comprehend how this is a sport. Is it a sport of...leaning?) and...skeleton? What the hell is skeleton? BOB COSTAS. I don't have a crush on him but I do enjoy him!

Speaking of crushes...do you know who I DO have a crush on? That mean Russian figure skater. Evgeni Plushenko! The meaner and crankier he is, the more I adore him. Do yourself a favor...go to Youtube and type in his name and "sex bomb." You won't regret it. (Sorsha sure didn't!) Or maybe you will but it's HILARIOUS. I won't link to it because the discovery is half the joy. He sort of reminds me of Maureen in one of my very favorite guilty pleasure movies, Center Stage. "I am the best goddamn dancer in the American Ballet Academy! Who the hell are you? Nobody!" HA.

I've always loved the Olympics, but this year, especially while watching the Opening Ceremonies, I was reminded of the last time I watched the Olympics. It was (...obviously) in 2008 when Conan was first born. He came home from the hospital the first time right around the Summer Games. I'd come out for a few days to visit and help out and see everyone. We had a whole system. Conan had to get several medications at different intervals, something like every 4 and 6 hours. Andie would do his evening meds and then go to bed. Sid and I would stay up until 2 am or so and do that round of medication. Then Andie would get up and do the next round. (And when I say "Sid and I," I mean, "I would HOLD the baby and Sid would actually dose and administer the medication." He's no fool, ok.) And while Sid and I would sit up late, we'd watch the Olympics! We'd trade Conan back and forth, cuddling him and talking to him. We watched Michael Phelps kick Olympic ass and make history. I...might have had a teeeeny crush on him around the time of those games. Whatever, who didn't? It was a scary time because Conan was on a heart monitor that sounded like a smoke detector to alert his parents to his heart rate. But it was a sweet time, too. Because Conan was home where he belonged, with his family and we were so, so grateful.

This year, when I call Sid and Andie to talk about the Games, I hear Mothra and Conan in the background yelling at each other. Running around. Breaking things. Andie says things like, "Mothra! Don't put that up your nose!" and "Conan! STOP CLIMBING THAT."

*This does not include going to actual baseball games. I like to go to baseball games. It's fun. But watching it on tv is...not fun. For me.

Why I'm on "Team CoCo" and You Should Be, Too

Unless you've been living under the rock that I usually live under, you have heard about the fiasco at NBC over the late night shake up. I should preface this entry by explaining that I love Conan O'Brien. He first came on the air in 1993 as the host of NBC's "Late Night with Conan O'Brien." It was around 1995 that I met this weird, hippie chick in the guidance department of our high school (we call her Bea), and we became immediate BFF. Bea has always been an insane night owl, and she introduced me to the tall redhead whose quirky sense of humor was right up our alley. I've watched him ever since; well, I've watched him every time I can stay up that late. I'm not much of a night owl, nor am I a morning person; I am what I like to call a bed person. All bed, all the time.

Any who, I fell in love with Conan because he is very relate-able: he has always behaved the way any of us would when in front of some of Hollywood's most famous: both awed and respectful with a hint of humor, enough to make the star smile genuinely and relax. He treats his audience like friends, allowing us to see into some of the most personal moments of his life (the show he taped the day his son was born, was probably the most hilarious I've ever seen). As much as I want to say, "Well, Jay Leno just isn't funny" I realize that funny is subjective; while I don't find him funny, I realize others do. So I'll put it to you like this: whenever I had watched Jay Leno, it was obvious he was more of a kiss ass than anything else. His questions seemed to have been written by the stars' PR people and he was just totally fine with it. Even Dave Letterman, who I do enjoy from time to time, isn't as easy to watch as Conan was. With Dave it seems he's having a private conversation with his buddies, their conversations peppered with private jokes and giggles like school girls. Sure that can be amusing, but it gets old very quickly.

I think the reason the public became so obsessed with Conan being 'laid off' so to speak was that he came off as a 'working class guy.' In this economy so many of us could relate to his situation. Sure he was offered a show at a later time, but we've all been there: your job offers to give you a different shift, a lower pay, etc. in order for you to keep your job. It didn't make sense that he would accept that deal. As for the 30 million he received: if I were a smarter woman, or one that wasn't so lazy, I could explain the economics of his pay over the seven year term of his contract, or I could explain the sociological mind of a man, a father, that even with enough money most men have a need to work to provide. Seeing as how I'm not that smart and I am that lazy, I won't go into all that. Instead I'll simply say that entertainers, comedians especially, have a need to perform, to write, to work. Look at Bob Hope. He was probably the richest man in entertainment (thanks, Orange trees) and he worked endlessly, not because he needed to, because he wanted to. Steve Allen, who we all forget was the original host of "The Tonight Show”, worked every day until his untimely death. Think of the myriad of movies, TV shows, hell even Broadway plays about old performers who don't want to "take the money and retire." They want to, maybe they have a need to, perform.

There is also I sense, throughout this whole ordeal, how out of touch "the man" is to us plebes. Conan didn't have the ratings, I'll give you that. But he also didn't have a great lead-in. Even the local news suffered in their ratings because of the "Jay Leno Show." The usual practice in broadcasting, when I typically popular show suffers a ratings set back is to A) change the lead-in show, or B) change the air time to a more "viewer friendly" time (ala "Law & Order"). Conan had a loyal following of viewers and decent ratings during his 16 years hosting "Late Night with Conan O'Brien."

It all boils down, I feel, to the fact that Conan is just a good guy. He showed this time and time again on-air (when Andy left, during Katrina, etc), through the reactions of his peers and colleagues (check out Inside the Actor's studio when Conan was the guest) and especially during his explanation for choosing not to allow the move to past midnight:

"...if I accept this move I will be knocking the “Late Night” show, which I inherited from David Letterman and passed on to Jimmy Fallon, out of its long-held time slot. That would hurt the other NBC franchise that I love, and it would be unfair to Jimmy. "

Then there is his sign off, which summed up his personality exactly: classy, honest, funny, and true to his emotions. I look forward to September and seeing where my beloved late night host will end up.

Yet Another Catch-Up Post

Hi everyone! Mame and I have been fairly busy lately! She's trying to buy a house and not lose her damn mind, both of which are full time jobs. I've been trying to be supportive by finding new and interesting ways to call her a whore on her voicemail. Don't you wish I was your best friend? I bet you do!

I've been travelling all over the place! Well, up and down the east coast. Sort of. Mom and I went to my baby cousin Brianna's baby shower at the beginning of the month. Ah, family. That's all I really need to say about that, isn't it? Also, I will never again set foot in a church with a house band. Ok? Ok.

Then I spent an AWESOME weekend in Boston, visiting EGT and Dr. Smarty-Pants. The planets aligned and allowed for all the Email Girls to converge in the city for a brief window of time. There was like, fairy dust and shit. So, The World Traveller, Chicklet and Agent Mascara joined us and a good time was had by all. And I really mean it! We had a BLAST. There was boozing, cake-eating, Criminal Minds, Doctor Who and Blackpool-watching (EGT: "The scene where David Tennant sings 'Should I Stay' is the best scene ever committed to film." Email Girls: "AGREED."). Action figures of the Master and the Tenth Doctor went to the prom together. It was very touching. Cardboard!David Tennant ate some cake. Season 4 of Doctor Who was compared to lupus. Dr. Smarty-Pants made commemorative buttons that we all wore with pride. In other news, we are giant dorks, but we have fun. Agent Mascara and I were loosed, unsupervised, in Boston, where we did not get lost or trip over something and then die. If you know Agent Mascara or me, you know this was quite the accomplishment. We were quite proud.

Next, I'm heading to Pittsburgh to visit Sid, Andie, Mothra and Conan, who is now ONE YEAR OLD. WOOOOO!!!! I'll also meet up with Dr. Fabulous.

My life is rather full just now and I'm feeling quite content!

Also, enjoy these brief reviews of the following media I've consumed recently:

• District 9: I'm not as in love with it as everyone else seemed to be. It was interesting and smart, which is a nice change for a summer movie. But the depiction of the Nigerian drug lords made me rather uncomfortable, especially in a film that is ostensibly about racism. Hmm. It is nice to see an indie film rake in the bank. However, please do not make a sequel. PLEASE.
  
• The Time Traveler's Wife: No, seriously. Read the book.
• The Inglorious Bastards: I refuse to misspell the title. Anyway...OH MY GOD! LOVED IT! Quentin Tarantino is one of my very favorite filmmakers and I adored this movie. I'd see it again immediately. Also, Eli Roth? Call me. You are hot.
• Into The Wild (book): Very good book. Didn't do much to change my opinion of Christopher McCandless, but I don't really want to speak ill of the dead. I actually enjoyed Jon Krakauer's digressions and I seem to be in the minority about that. You should probably go read it and Into Thin Air, also by Krakauer. Now I want to see the film version. Has anyone else checked it out and can give it a yay or nay?
• And I Don't Want To Live This Life: Ok, it's a biography of Nancy Spungen, girlfriend of Sid Vicious who was murdered by him in 1978. My grandmother used to have quite the selection of pulpy trash novels from the 1970s and I read this one when I was 12 or 13. I'd never even heard of the Sex Pistols when I first read it, so I decided to snag it from the library and give it another go. The book is written by her mother and while I'm not sure I'm buying everything she's selling, it's appalling how Spungen is still vilified. Um, everyone in the punk scene was an asshole, not just her. That's the POINT of the punk scene. I'd recommend it if you are interested in that particular scene or era.
• Being Human: a Brit import about a werewolf, a ghost and a vampire sharing a flat and struggling with their various supernatural issues. It sounds sort of stupid, but it's very funny and cute and smartly written. And let me introduce you to Mitchell, the vampire and my new boyfriend. Behold. He often wears fingerless gloves. For some reason, I find this insanely hot.
• System Of A Down: Um. Where have I been? These guys are awesome and, as usual, I am the last to know. See, what happens, if you're me, is that you watch a documentary on the Armenian Genocide (Don't ask.) and they're all over it! They you're frantically downloading their music and moping over the fact that you will never seem them perform live. GRRR.
  
• Mad Men: Are you still not watching it? Get on that, would you? "I'm Peggy Olson and I want to smoke some marijuana." HA!

HEE! This post was repeatedly kicked back by Blogger for having too many tags!

Dude.

Mame and I are on the phone, watching Conan O'Brien and giggling together. You know. As you do. And Stephen Moyer from our very favoritest show ever True Blood is on. (Bill! He plays Bill!)

He's BRITISH in real life, people. Which we knew. But we'd never heard him speak. It's...disconcerting, to say the least. Also, hot. And he's ridiculously charming. And then he started morphing back and forth into different kinds of British accents and then to his southern Bill voice. Weird!

EGT! It was like that time that we discovered that Chuck Bass was really British In Real Life and I dug up that Youtube clip of him just being English at everyone. And we were like o_O.

Who else is Secretly British In Real Life? Because it just makes them more attractive.

Happy Halloween!

So, I'm off to spend Halloween with Sid and Andie and their kids. We plan to dress Mothra and Conan up in embarrassing costumes and take pictures and laugh at them, thus really cementing their futures in therapy. Isn't that why you have children?

Mame hasn't blogged in a million years because she's got a lot going on now. She's fine, it's fine. I mean, she's so busy that she's barely talked to me. Her best friend of 16 years. Ooooh, beat THAT for passive aggression, Mame. HA! I WIN!

However, we do talk online and we would like you all to watch this: Drunk History. Our favorite is the one featuring Michael Cera of Arrested Development/Superbad/Juno fame. He plays Alexander Hamilton. 'Nuff said, right? Mame and I quote it incessantly at each other. I don't usually find drunk ramblings all that amusing, but most drunk ramblings aren't this funny. They usually consist of complains of why someone doesn't love you anymore, how much someone is going to puke or paranoias about government conspiracies. Or do I just drink with the wrong people? Hmmm...

Also, I went to this with work friends. It was AWESOME. I've yet to go to a haunted house that was really SCARY, but this had its moments and was TONS of fun. Also, may I apologize on behalf of Quakers everywhere for inventing a prison system that drove people crazy. Oops.

In Halloween movie news, don't ever watch One Missed Call, the American remake. Not the Japanese original version. I'm sure that one's fine. The American one sucks ASS. I should have know because it has Shannyn Sossamyn or however you spell her name in it. I refuse to look it up. She sucks, the movie sucks and is only suitable for mocking. Especially when you have the peanut gallery of my family. That's good times. I do, however, want everyone to know that I wanted to rent High Tension and I was vetoed. My cousin Bri swore that One Missed Call was a good scary movie and whenever it sucked especially egregiously, we would all glare at her. Ha.

And EEEK! The election is in less than a week! Is anyone else FREAKING out?

Conan the Destroyer (Of Bottles and Low Expectations) Or Conan: Part Two

So, I wrote this post last month and have taken, um, quite awhile to continue it. Sid has been nagging at me. FINE, SID. HERE. Heheh.

Anyway, when we last left off, Andie had been taken in for an emergency c-section, as baby Conan was in distress. Sid sent out a mass text at about 7 pm. I waited. And waited. And waaaaited. I may have squawked NUMEROUS times, "Dude! How long does it take to do a freakin' c-section? It's so fast on Maternity Ward!" Yeah, I know. I got a call from Sid about an hour later that Andie was doing well and that baby Conan was out and breathing, hooked up to vents and things. I didn't get a lot of details, we mostly talked about how ridiculous Sid had looked in his O.R. scrubs and whether the obstetrician had given Andie a Britney Spears-style tummy tuck while she was in there. (They didn't and we thought it was hilarious to tease about it, but the doctor was appalled. We, um, get that a lot.)

Andie calls me some hours later, at about 1 am. She sounds WRECKED. I mean, like she'd taken over the lead singing for AC/DC. We talk for a little bit and I ask her to tell me about Conan. She tells me that he's red and has a head of black hair that will probably be curly like Sid's. That he has blue eyes and Sid's chin. That he's ANGRY and keeps trying to kick off his tubes and wrappings. Then, her voice breaking, she tells me that the doctors gave him about a 10% chance of survival. I find out later, their lead doctor advised them to make funeral arrangements.

I tell Mame, who breaks down in tears. I spend most of that night and the next day praying in a manner which can, if I'm being honest, best be described as "begging." I go to my Friends meeting and get the local chapter of Quakers on the case. Conan is baptised, guerilla-style in the NICU. Sid and Andie have a huge network of friends and family members who cover a wide variety of religions. I don't believe that any one religion is the right one, but if there is one right one? One of us had to have hit it. We had Born-Agains, Catholics (Including EGT with her special Pope-blessed rosary), Muslims, Jews, Methodists (My Gram had her prayer chain going), Lutherans and Hindus all praying for this kid. Someone heard us. Someone said, "Ok, let me take a look." Someone granted our prayers.

At one point, I have a very amusing conversation with a stoned-off-her-gourd-Andie. Hey, if anyone deserved the good pharmaceuticals, it was her. Conan starts to take a turn for the worst. But by the next morning, he's still here. He's still fighting. He's apparently decided that yeah, this whole dying thing? DOESN'T WORK FOR HIM. He begins to improve a tiny bit. Just the fact that he's still breathing is a HUGE deal. His status, according to Sid, is upgraded from "Really, Really Critical" to "Cautiously Non-Pessimistic." And he just continues to improve. Andie is sent home, in good condition.

I decide, fuck this noise, I'm driving out there. I need to see my friends. I need to meet Conan. I drive out on a Friday night after work, arriving at their house at about 1:30 in the morning. And EXHAUSTED looking Sid greets me at the door and sweeps me into a huge hug. He shows me video of Conan and I start crying. I suck. Conan is doing really well, far better than expected.

The next day, we all go to the hospital to see Conan. He's a week old and no one's been able to hold him yet because he still has a central line in his navel. We all pile into his tiny room: me, Sid, Andie, Mothra and Sid's sister Red, who is Conan's godmother. The nurses all bounce over to announce that they've taken his central line out, because he's doing THAT awesomely, and that we can now hold him. They sit Andie down and hand Conan to her. I'm holding Mothra on my hip, trying to dissuade him from grabbing at EVERYTHING in the room. As soon as the nurse hands his brother to their mom, he stops and stares. Even he realizes what a big deal this is.

Conan was the tiniest baby I've ever seen. His face was the size of the palm of my hand. His chest was about 3 or 4 inches wide and fluttered heart-breakingly. His fingers and toes really get me: they are about the size of matchsticks. He sleeps most of the time, but he keeps trying to wake up. His little eyebrows shoot up as he struggles to open his eyes. They open for about 5 seconds and then...close again. Hey, life is TIRING, ok?

Conan's room was right outside the nursing station and finally, one of the nurses slams down her pen. "We can't get any work done! We're all too choked up about you guys FINALLY getting to hold him!" Conan was a great favorite of the nursing staff. They admired his kick-ass nature and his beauty.

I get my chance to hold him. He's swimming in his pile of blankets. He's still pissed off at his tubes and has to be restrained from yanking on them. I rock him in my arms instinctively and hum under my breath to him.

Sid: Bea. Are you humming My Chemical Romance to my kid?
Me: No! That would be ridiculous! (I totally was. And if you're a My Chemical Romance fan, you know what song it was.)
Sid: Riiiiiight. Because you're never ridiculous or anything...

Conan continued to have his ups and downs. He was still having heart fluctuations and many of the usual preemie issues. But also continued to be awesome. But more on that later!

I've decided this will be a three-part series. Hey, this is Mame's and my blog. We can be verbose and long-winded if we want! However, I think I've run out of stupid jokes for the titles. So, I'll be accepting suggestions if you guys have any...

Introducing Conan the Baby-rian (Yes, that's a terrible joke. No, I don't care.)

Here's how it all began...

December 30, 2007
I was spending New Year's with Mame and her family. On this particular evening, Mame, her husband Beau, his sister Agnes and I were playing 90s Trivial Pursuit. My cell phone rang and I GLADLY answered it because Beau was TROUNCING us. I mean, really. It was brutal. I looked at the Caller ID and it's Andie, which was a little odd, since she knows I'm visiting Mame.

Me: Hello?
Andie: [deep breath] I'm pregnant. Again.

At this point, Mothra, her older son (and my godson, in case you'd forgotten!) had just had his first birthday. In her voice was a mixture of happiness and sheer terror. I heard similar emotion from Sid, chattering in the background. I went into the other room and we talked for awhile. Hey, I wasn't the pregnant one, I was excited! Babies are awesome! They were excited too, just scared.

By the time I talked to them a few days later while I waited for a MILLION HOURS at the airport on my way home, they are totally psyched. I then started suggesting ridiculous baby names.

March 2008
I went to visit Sid, Andie and Mothra and we had an awesome time. Mothra is freaking ADORABLE. And incredibly bright and intense, affectionate and funny. Andie and I got together with our friend from college, Dr. Fabulous, whom we haven't seen in YEARS. The three of us met for tea/lunch, which turned into hanging out at Sid and Andie's house, which turned into dinner, which turned into sitting up and talking until pretty late at night. It rocked.

Andie's starting to show at this point. Her due date was August 30th. I patted her belly constantly (with her permission of course!), and so did Sid. When she and Mothra dropped me at the airport, I gave all three of them a kiss goodbye -- Andie, Mothra and Andie's belly.

May 2008
Andie and Sid called me one day, cracking up. They hadn't wanted to know the sex of the baby when Andie was pregnant with Mothra and they didn't want to know for this one either. I fully supported this decision because hey, there are not many real surprises in life, right?

Sid: We had an ultrasound today! (Sid speaks in perpetual exclamation points when talking about his kids. It's pretty cute.)
Me: Yeah?
Sid: We didn't mean to, but we could tell the sex!
Me: A boy, huh?
Sid: YES!

June 2008
My cell phone rang one day while I was at work. I remembered that Andie had a baby doctor appointment that day and was supposed to call me after. I answered and it's Sid, telling me in carefully controlled tones that something was off about the baby's heartbeat and they were taking Andie to the hospital in an ambulance. He was fighting rush hour traffic to get there and could I please call her and keep her company. As soon as I hang up with him, Andie's calling me.

Andie: So, I'm in an ambulance.
Me: Yeah, I heard. What's going on?

Andie tells me that the baby's heartbeat had been CRAZY fast and they needed to get it back to normal. She sounded calm, but tense. I could tell she was scared.

Me: Well, are your EMTs hot?
Andie: They are not bad-looking. One of them offered to let me wear a helmet!
Me: Um, are you?

Andie was admitted to the hospital, put on a bunch of medication and after a few days, sent home.

Andie: Maybe I'm giving birth to a hummingbird. You know? Because his heart's so fast?
Me: Hey, that's fine. We'll chase him around with sugar water and red things! He'll be a VERY HAPPY LITTLE HUMMINGBIRD.

I then refer to the baby as "the hummingbird" pretty much until he's born.

The she was put in the hospital AGAIN, because the baby's heart rate was still crazy. The situation is getting dire, they baby's heart rate CANNOT continue like this. If they can't get it down, they might have to deliver, which would be really early. And early is not good. At this point, I drove out to see them and help out with Mothra.

Sid and I had quite the adventure wrangling a rather out-of-sorts Mothra. He was tantrummy and cranky and missed his mom. Not hard to understand, but trying to deal with. The next day, we took Mothra to daycare and went to hang out with Andie at the hospital. We learn that the baby's heart rate has been stable for almost 24 hours. If he hits the 24-hour mark, Andie can go home. I got to see an ultrasound of the baby's heart and watch them do...something where you could hear the heartbeat and see little soundwaves on a screen. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.

Much later, a nurse comes in while the three of us are playing 80s Trivial Pursuit (see a theme?) and tells Andie she's being discharged. I have never seen a pregnant woman move so fast as Andie did to get dressed and packed to go. No lie, we cleared that room in like, 10 minutes. I leave a few days later, feeling much better about the whole situation, having had a stern talk with the Hummingbird about CALMING DOWN and not scaring us anymore.

July 2008
During one of Andie's tri-weekly doctor visits, they discovered that the Hummingbird's heart rate was STILL beating far too quickly and there were other problems as well. The doctors were going to try a new medication and give it 24 hours. If his heart isn't settled down by then, they were going to induce.

Instead of inducing, they ended up doing an emergency c-section.

(Note: Part Two to follow, but everything turned out fine. Andie is fine and Baby Conan [Formerly The Hummingbird] is doing well. )