flagrant

fear.
full blown panic mode.
breathing out of my mouth, etc...

what am i doing?
why am i doing this?
home is good.

the anxiety is legitimate this time, isn't it?
travel to [prohibited destination] is technically illegal.

today was the last appointment with my physician before our vacations. three weeks to the day, many a wednesday from now, a different person will return to his room. i didn't waste a minute in asking resident doctor #4 how much weight he thought would be lost during this time, as the obvious answer would involve having none to spare, instead i hinted that hospitalization considerations will make more sense then. the returned look was either fear or surprise, potentially both, but i only steal glances and it's clear he has never taken an interesting elective.

resident doctor #4 must be trained not to hate me, or is training himself. when showing more interest in faraway people lingering by the burger king crosswalk, i wonder if it is more or less annoying than ignoring the window to enunciate a contemptible sentence? those great efforts to attend a session, he started, was countered with how i eagerly await the next blunder to help manipulate another three months of funk. it was the truth, and not a good idea, so when corrected the idea proclaimed a miss was alright and more useful than any type of lawsuit free or hesitant therapy.

he gave the go ahead for [prohibited destination], probably forgetting about me and defaulting to the american standard: a one destination, air conditioned vacation. sign me up for the comprehensive challenge, even though the plan is to visit something entirely different.

rule #500: never edit this blog after a session with the sink.

not recommended: shopping for the bulimic whim at 1:30am.

there i queued, dying with [a large amount] of screamingly obvious habit in a basket, right next to people who get 97% of their daily calories from alcohol. ten loud kids were also in line waiting to reach the happy checker. sure i was stressed, but addiction ranked stronger than an embarrassed exit and no way was i to pay convenience store prices.

"i know you," said the scanner when it was my turn, "but can't place you."

this was the same cashier who had asked about my cat on february 28th, on the evening i arrived home from munich-- the last time seen shopping at that store. grabbing the haul in a panic, i muttered a "whatever" while rolling my eyes, and rushed out.

should that cashier return home after a lousy night at work and then proceed to beat his wife, it is my fault for using the combination of illness and bad habits as the excuse for being an inconsiderate person. had i really been awful at heart, and not just under that inexcusable influence of glucose, it would have been pointed out that seams split to the point of revealing skin (due to his recent weight gain) are not appropriate in a service position.

kill me.

...found myself in a store gazing wistfully at death [drain-o, electrical cords, bins of bilateral foods] while invalid friend complained about work, work, and work. suddenly, he declared that 'all i am doing is planning a trip to central america' and therefore 'i am not entitled to any depression.'

he is too stupefied to understand how this travel (which he thinks is neither work nor mandatory) catalyzes health.

he cannot comprehend a level of anxiety which occasionally requires a physical distress to end the experience-- and yet i still give weight to his words. vacation? my vacation starts the moment i return and breathe the sigh of relief.

too stumpish to succeed on his own, and scared to never find more than a regular paycheck-- why do i even acknowledge his lack of insight? he knows me. he should understand something about anxiety disorder by now. i cannot begin to describe the mental effort it takes to switch sides, let alone after having arrived, detail the prodding needed to reach the very end.

after what time is it too late to call my physician at home?

fear.

perfectly mismatched in mental patient attire, i said nothing. later on, i broke the silence by saying nothing a few more times. resident doctor #4 droned on about how uncomfortable these silent times are but went on to say that something beneficial was coming from the appointments since i endure a great effort to navigate the mental blocks which stand between my place and a knock on his door.

not really.
yes, really.
[silence]
um, i think not.
i think so.

"the only reason these appointments are kept is that i have a great chance of being killed in a car accident en route, and if not, there is always the second chance on the way home."

the top drawer solution to bring me back to earth was pulled out a few minutes later. his "threat of hospitalization" nonsense would work a lot better during arrogant episodes when i wave my bony elbows around to freak people out rather than on this, a beached whale of a 107'F day which finds me wearing a few too many oversized clothes.

not even close.

view from a foreign guest house window- fez, morocco

predicting this morning's appointment with resident doctor #4:

he will have the chairs in his office arranged in such a way that i must either move them or stand in an awkward space at the center of the room. (terror!) the vertical window blinds will be pulled open completely, or dialed open in a way which reveals a room full of light. (terror!) the floor lamp, which stands in the corner, will also be turned on. (to annoy me enough to possibly catalyze an effort to "want" something and act on the desire to switch off the light.)

him: "have you figured out where you're going?"
me: "nowhere."

[silence]

him: "where are you going on vacation next month?"
me: "i'm never leaving the house to go anywhere but this office."

[silence]

him [with authority]: "where you are traveling to, tristan?"
me: "now, how in the hell am i supposed to do that?"

[silence]

me: "i can't even get to target to buy laundry detergent."

[silence]

him [dreamily]: "hmmm, you're pointing out the extreme..."
him [laughs]: "but which one? kabul? antarctica?"

me: "as one can imagine, boats to antarctica are better in february."
he squints, and then suddenly nods having put the season together.

me: "plus, getting to the south georgian salisbury plain cost a literal fortune."

[silence]

me: "starving at least starts off free..."
me: "yeah, exploring three weeks of crazed hunger is what i should do."

[silence]

him: "you're feeling fat today?"
me [upset, don't interrupt my thin world]: "you mean, feeling exposed."

[silence]

him: "afghanistan...?"
me: "i can't get an appointment with their minister of tourism until after their elections in september, which means a virtual october. why bother? central asia will be under the threat of snow then with inevitable mountain pass closures until may. i don't need limited overland travel options when traveling alone. forget afghanistan, or pakistan for that matter. i won't travel to the extent of peshawar without plans for kabul."
him [agrees]: "hmm."

[silence]

me: "my initial flight departs los angeles for minneapolis on continental. in minneapolis i have an illegal connection to newark, but the flight should be departing from the same terminal-- so no big deal. an 'illegal connection' means one flight arrives and the other departs short of the airport's stated minimum connection time. should something go wrong, continental isn't required to accommodate my trip. after arriving in newark, i don't know. i am going to need to run through the airport in order to make another illegal connection to cancun. i lucked out with a seriously discounted rate on a four star hotel right on the beach strip. so, in mexico, i have that one night arranged just to meet with a broker, collect my airline tickets and tourist card for [prohibited destination] and--"

him: "[prohibited destination]?!"
me: "yeah, what?"
him: "well..."
me: "there are ways."

[silence]

him: "minnesota and newark to get to mexico?"
me: "same price, first class upgrades, more frequent flyer miles."

[silence]

consider how at this time resident doctor #4 decides *not* to reveal he is *only* visiting jolly old *safe* and english speaking london next week with the hand held protection a tour group can offer. consider how i contemplate the appalling safety a holiday -- with a hotel heralding a free american breakfast -- must offer.

[/silence]


me: "after that, a return flight from [prohibited destination] delivers me back into cancun. the next morning i travel down to guatemala by bus. then a side trip for scuba diving in belize and honduras. yes, i'm lugging a prescription dive mask along. then nicaragua by rickety chicken bus is a possibility if there is time, because i have a habit of getting bored in tropical paradise. a chicken bus is an old american school bus with actual caged animals strapped to the roof, not what i refer to as 'the chicken route' for tourist types."

[his questioning 'issues relating to authority' go here]

a few months back during munchkin-watch, while future parents waited for the spawn, they both tried to connect me to their mess by using the word aunt. i am not related and therefore only referred to as an aunt out of courtesy.

consider how being referred to as an aunt can be interpreted as "a person who gives nicer gifts than a person merely referred to as 'an unrelated family friend who was displaced by a crumbled relationship'."

why am i retaining this frustration when it is now august and june saw the delivery of their child? i think that whatever the actual annoyance is should have been shrugged off by now.

the hallmark corporation or american greeting would never dare produce a greeting card which simply says "the enclosed check is for the baby. please don't spend it on dwi fines, cases of unimaginably cheap american beer, cigarettes, or another white trash trip to the bahamas." why am i mad that our cultures and passions refuse to intersect? so what?! some people like domestic drafts. some don't.

i pick on them because they choose to pay for that which is not essential to life, but then whine they cannot find any leeway in their tight budget. i doubt i would care about their choices if they chose to be astute and affluent.

my acknowledgement of the birth has yet to be signed. the parents have just now stamped a blurry birth announcement and have posted it along with a stack of ordinary world photographs. the letter describes how they are (drum roll please...) tired and broke.

i feel sick to look at the metabolically challenged people standing next to a sheet cake and other sweatshirt-clad strangers holding the newborn. why? is it that i fight with my enemy on a daily basis and they are not aware of their own? if these people are comfortable wearing what appears to be rags, why shouldn't they?

my guilt had been exchanging places with apathy, but has retreated, coming to conclude grief and disbelief-- the parents are oblivious to the fact their child shares the same name and birth date as new wave pop star john taylor from duran duran.

consider how, without any action on my part, i am the one who is under obligation.

brain says: "moan, moan... sheesh! pick up a pen."

sarcasm--> are there online templates available which define "how to write a pleasant and polite greeting?" where can i find appropriate fill in the blank forms?

consider: the stress in the perfection of supplying the right gift. what are the best gifts to give for a newborn baby boy? in this case, the parents are going to note the dollar amount that is spent-- what is the correct amount of money to spend on a newborn brought into this world by people i barely know? what do i base it on and how can i be sure that my gift will be judged appropriately?

one person, standing next to me, and this upcoming trip to cuba [prohibited destination] wouldn't be problematic. south east asia, visited last spring, was nerve-racking but resulted in a quality misadventure. in may, i was numb to the south pacific islands but acted on a few streaks- one involved wearing a pale blue bikini top while fending off a spear fisherman's advances. with nothing to do but skirt the seashore each morning, if only to see what the ocean forgot, the greatest worry in fiji was in possibly getting bopped on the head by a falling coconut. these recent solo trips have been monotonous, filled with eating disorder self-handicapping, and though the provincial applaud, predetermined success either jeopardized performance or has sacrificed important opportunities.

there are four doctor appointments in the way and only one week to prepare, but the time inbetween is apt to be uncomfortable. educate or memorize, now i will devise a plan and transform, knowing the sun on my face last monday was an absurd torture.

morning in a bottle.
[here's where cameron goes berserk]
evening in a fugue.

later next week this foodless depression will be exchanged for flat out fear, i continually think, but personality always engages long before reaching the airport. it's funny to share this seat with a lack of confidence (read: terror) when the only current problem is deciding how to write about traveling to the prohibited destination. in a half-hearted effort to avoid a fine years down the road, snapshots of handwritten blog entries could work, or i may illustrate specifics with photography.

500 more things.

perhaps today...
will be good.

i will call the prosperous professor, and, with a cheat sheet written on a sticky fluorescent orange post-it note, suggest he might co-author a future textbook with me. not only will this suggestion thwart any of his ideas of simply glomming on to subsequent editions of my own work, but the action should tone down current levels of anxiety and open up my world.

what if i only reach voicemail?
i should practice.
[nope, don't want to consider any of this.]

what if the professor answers the phone?
[well, isn't that the entire point?]

wait, i must be prepared for every imaginable situation.
[everything changes, therefore it's impossible- i can ignore this.]

be prepared for him to answer the phone by only stating his last name.
[pfft... i got this one down pat last fall. easy!]

how might the initial phone reception play out?:
worst, he answers with: "worm."
awful: "this is mr. worm."
better: "hello, this is mister-almost-doctor stanford university worm."
best: "philosophy department. how can i direct your call?"

crap. blogging about the subject is creating more anxiety rather than working to snuff it out. wait a minute. what if the prosperous professor declines? no, calm down. he isn't going to immediately decline. this is the beginning of his career and he seeks to network, which is not exactly what i'm about, but might discover is useful.

speak professional words: [easy]
- "adaptation", "prosaic", "narrative", and "component"

do not say: [easy, if paying attention]
- "um", "well...", "associate", or "partner"

do not: [difficult]
- question his competence with a sarcastic inflection
- succumb to introversion
- rudely suggest he edit a new section of another book he wanted to author
- agree to meet over dinner
[what's a good excuse?: cuba? kashgar? husband?]

do not: [most important]
- forget that he wants me more than i will ever need him

i have decided to postpone both upcoming trips to asia in favor of something completely spontaneous. no rush, or problem, and this is a very good decision which echoes of a future. september will instead bring personal challenges, but where in the world these will take place, is yet to be determined.

the original intention was to travel to the state of goa in india for a new film project, and then return to ngapali and mrauk u, in myanmar (burma) to finish a geographical project. goa has shed its reputation as a nirvana for new age hedonists. it now thrives on commercialized trance culture and tourists on cheap packaged holidays. as for ngapali, getting there requires over 24 hours of uncomfortable overland travel from yangon, and a good portion is spent riding in the back of a random fishmonger's truck. after bargaining for a lift, imagine having to sit under the elements amid rank bags of rotting fish, next to whatever else hitched a ride. locals, animals, rowdy australian backpackers- anything is possible and nothing should surprise.

the first ranked destination, which only sounds chronically impractical, kabul, afghanistan, is again unavailable as of this season. the inevitable pre-election related violence eliminated afghanistan (and subsequently central asia) from the list of possibilities. i should have visited back before may. seriously. there are occasionally tame times to follow the intrepid trail but this isn't one of them.

who knows where to go, or more importantly, what the spotted windows on the bus will reveal. if the chinese embassy will grant an expedited multiple entry visa within the next nine days, i might blog about another version of orlando from the tourist tame market in kashgar. if not, perhaps an illegal trip to the communist caribbean island of cuba. either way, i will spend the majority of september traveling independently.

it started with that shock or seizure in thailand, was reinforced the next week when resident doctor #4 made a speculative suggestion, and then perfected the following foodless week in fiji. it's months later, actually the end of august and only now i am beginning to come out of this episode of decompensation. twice since arriving home from the south pacific have i ventured outside of my home alone, for sport mostly, and both instances were grand failures.

with a trusty sidekick, i can do anything, so these particular isolated days represent my profile. extended periods passed by without words, and though it made sense at the time (compensating for the spiked lifestyle), and was fairly easy (invalid friend functions as secretary and takes up the slack) i wonder where i've been.

leaf blower tuesday.

mm-hmm.

alarm was sure to include living under the flickering threat of a housefire, and since electrical service had been humming here, what wasn't merely the casual shedding of faculty was neglected. now that follicles fall i care, but it's too late and with no sense in snorting biotin, who has a suggestion? two by three and crushed never helps so swallow this dear. oh mouth, great focus of exploration and psychosexual pleasure, but on a day like today the last obsession is aggression. insolent, as predicted, you can keep your compressed fear.

sentences should describe how a few spikes of phenomenal life were annulled with inverse thrills. good, bad, heaven, herat, awe, and then there was an additional second of ecstasy but paradise the fifteenth time around only serves as bliss to the untraveled. ever so slightly, and still preoccupied with the jinx, i am starting to emerge from what ranks as the worst episode of decompensation yet. i'm decidedly fine with nothing but sky when money on the table is betting on a late september hospitalization. sick and bitter, it's still good to have goals.

zzzzzz....

another good thing about being this depressed is that i haven't the wherewithal to reach for a knife. good thing, so they say, or some optional nonsense which could be debated. imagine it worse. it could be leaf blower tuesday. recently there was a jackhammering-the-spa wednesday which about knocked me out.

in a true effort to finish a lingering and independent project, i may return to myanmar three weeks from now, but only if this head finds its way off of the floor. who knows? all i have to do is buy an airline ticket to thailand and make spontaneous travel arrangements from there, but one problem is that i'm so cheap the entire concept of revealing my credit card number is at least five days away from today. striking northwest airlines mechanics are going to inevitably screw up flights next month and one would think the predictable customer appreciation frequent flyer mile bonuses could catalyze travel, but not yet.

aside from this visit to myanmar, another reluctant trip to the beach destination of goa (the western coast of india) applies to september for a lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame lame film project. if flying on the least expensive fares with inflexible travel dates, one trip will certainly interfere with the other. [which will, oh darn, result in anxiety and the job of maneuvering anorexia around hypernatremic dehydration and its subsequent impairment. oh, never mind.] rearranging bill payments while bitching about india is better than collecting discarded water bottles and exchanging them for coins at the automatic recycler they say, but i've still yet to meet whoever they are and if ever, ha, edward hyde will inappropriately stroke them with vocabulary.

staying home never taught anything except compulsive counting and checking in triple time, but yet the paycheck delivered after independent fruition reinforces the future affordability of introversion. having previously captured being stuck amid unspeakable bipolar hell, don't talk to me about that, i continually act as though the louche tourist destination in goa is similar, thus inferior.

india
fleas
disease
men with hands on my ass who would like to tutor me.
you know?
yeah, it's like that but with salted rice.

a pair of sparkly golden puma shoes with orange and black stripes, woven hair, distracting eyeglasses, and returning to trying out the carpeted floor helped a lot.

upon entering resident doctor #4's office on monday, i made a dramatic pause which didn't speak anything other than everything. to the window of esteem, never having previous intention, i twisted open the slats and looked down at ugly people. resigned not to spend hours holding splotched spots of sidewalk gum between white window reflections and certainly unwilling to glaze over the fattening windowsill shadows while an audience to anorexia treatment, i restored the room and sat under the light.

did not count words.
did not count seconds.

blew it all to hell with an apologetic exit.
repented with 18 hours of danger.

300 more things.

the dark side is half-heartedly searching for a clinical lecturer in neuropsychology to immediately author a chapter on brain imaging for the second edition of a successful textbook. not that i plan on using the consultant's work, rather, the intention would be to compare the new example with text going to print and then politely decline the submitted copy.

using the implication of being a co-author rather than simple inclusion, or even the carrot confirming past sales could be revealed, but sudden introversion and that damn ethical conduct of mine doesn't want to flex. why not? the world is a dirty place and by manipulating a consultant's excited greed, it would not only benefit me, but also the way the manipula-pod will protect future work and emotion. a heartless thief, sure, but there is a simplified solution which eliminates all possibility of guilty influence.

it was recently suggested to me by a professor that this minor textbook expansion would appeal to many additional lecturers "and he would be excited to work on this adaptation with me." of course, but an exhaustive chapter on technicality formatted into an appendix is user friendly, effortless in assembly, and maintains the philosophical focus. annoyed with how people invite themselves in, had he actually thrown around another prosperous word, i may have melted on the spot. after all of the time involved, and knowing that shedding isolation should be of great importance, sharing anything except an interest in a completely new project would be deranged.

oh my god.
i accidentally told resident doctor #4 that he was ugly.
cross my heart, it wasn't meant like that.

he said: "why won't you ever look at me?"
[never missing a beat, glancing over] i said: "because you're ugly."
note: typical and predictable, the sarcasm was quite clear.

not only did this break a personal rule (no matter who, no matter the situation, never ever joke about someone's physicality/body/spirit) but during that splinter of time, i forgot how episodes of silence award every little movement or sentence a much weightier meaning than is the case. ugliness is now a theme rather than a simple observation of how humor can effectively break through tension.

last week: a prescription to facilitate a sleeping schedule should be discussed.

this week: received a prescription for less than five doses of a strong psychiatric medication (which has numerous off-label uses and functions as a sedative) rather than for a sedative-hypnotic (such as ambien) or benzodiazepine (such as xanax, klonopin).

he says: "you'll be taking a quarter of the smallest dosage."
he says: "so, side effects won't even pertain to you."

consider: resident doctor #4 is kidding, eh?
consider: the risk... the profile...

notes:
- that classification of medication can unleash a lot of rage.
- i hit someone with my car once while trying something similar.
- similar dosage, comparable drug under the same classification.
- yes, i hit that person with my car on purpose.
- unfortunately he just got up, laughed, said, "boy, you're mad!"

benzodiazepines = risk of dependency
sedative hypnotics = also easily addictive
this prescribed medicine = much lower risk of abuse

rd#4 has screwed up quite a lot within the last seven months
[he said]
consider: why do i have to deal with his anxieties?

resident doctor #4 is right about the penchant for abuse, given this living situation and relationship with a person who favors drug candy, but what about my physical sensitivities and dangerous allergic reactions in the past? there is obviously less effort involved in accepting a sedative (shorter half-life, only minor or typical self-consciousness at the pharmacy, a side effect of, gee, being tired) so there should be no surprise this morning when he hears that i made no effort in even obtaining his version of relaxation.

i tried a different route. a pair of earplugs, decidedly turning off the radio, light, and computer monitor resulted in triple the amount of normal nightly sleep this week. how odd! instead of pointedly changing behavior, i was supposed to be typing right now with altered brain receptors having made no effort to change other than for swallowing a pill. earplugs and clicking off electricity took less time than venturing to the kitchen for a glass of water and medicine, i'm sure.

person suggests his life is incomplete, behind, and lousy.
person refers to his life and job only with derogatory terms.

flagrant refers to person's life and job only with his words.
person is now upset and tries to spin a story of a better situation.

*shrugs*

i want to rent out my apartment in japan TODAY to a sublime tenant who has no problem lingering in indecision over all of life's options and therefore remains renting for five to ten extremely expensive years. please, please, let him not only be a nervy expatriate with a guarantor and good credit, but one who is accustomed to discrimination and being overcharged for japanese housing. a psychic renter who finds me before i place an advertisement or lay down a deposit with a housing agency would be good, too.

scratch that. i have to do it all myself.

all i need to do is connect with one person, by telephone or e-mail, and a virtually no-effort business aimed at the lucrative chinese market could be considered launched. another dissociative week has gone by, big deal, but i set the connection deadline for tomorrow. hurry, i think, someone else is going to scoop up the idea and take the lazy fortune. the situation should be exciting and not stressful considering it is only supplicant and not essential effort. next time, doomsday will apply to a monday as i kick it in the ass on the weekend very well nowadays, but it's thursday and noon, so toes only tap while cardiovascular obsession double-knots shoes.

500 things.

sleep happened
48 minutes of lucid fiction
invalidate the complaint.
i'm well!

my splat-crobatic brother, who is currently unaffected by a supposedly "career ending" motocross accident, is in los angeles for the x-games. to thwart any enthusiasm, he is only spectating and not an invited rider this year. good, as it's a bit frightening to see his grand personality remain effortless unless the world is watching. when the crowd surrounds to suffocate him, that arrogance seems to understand no risk. "look at me. even if i suck, i'm great!" where he learned that pride, i should have asked.

not recommended: walking from the ucla campus to the west valley during midday sunshine and upon arriving home five hours later, biking ventura and sepulveda boulevards during drive-time back to westwood village to collect the car. it is integral to history to note that anxiety and subsequent disorders are causing an exceptional level of social avoidance. having run for over an hour earlier in the day and tooled my typical two hours on the bike, could i be confusing victory with feeling sick?

the horror of an air france short haul flight to morocco

how uncomfortable is it when one size doesn't fit all? the sign which read "recline on this seat is restricted due to federal safety regulations" would have been acceptable, had it applied to all of the airline seats, or affixed to the back of a seat on an aircraft with extra legroom. this stoic uprightedness wasn't limited to the exit rows, and as far as i could tell, there was nothing odd about the seats-- no electrical box underneath, or avod system. there was neither rumour nor reason to investigate seats before this particular flight, but had i a hunch, i would have checked seatguru.com for an opinion .

restricted recline?
how about restricted to non-elite skyteam flyers?

recent flights:
marrakech, morocco (rak) - paris charles de gaulle (cdg) air france
paris charles de gaulle (cdg) - newark international (ewr) continental
newark international (ewr) - los angeles international (lax) continental

foreign street scene: horse drawn carriages, bicycles, and motorcycles.
overview from the hotel window-- marrakech, morocco

recent flights:
london gatwick, uk (lgw) - paris, france charles de gaulle (cdg)
paris, france charles de gaulle (cdg) - marrakech, morocco (rak)

flights:
los angeles (lax) - detroit metro (dtw)
detroit metro (dtw) - london gatwick (lgw)

weight restoration [see: no chance in a fiery hell]
1) a phrase somewhat related to turkey sandwiches and fresh fruit.
2) and something else about eating virtually 23 hours a day.
3) every day.
4) forever.
5) and ever.
6) until i die.
7) which will be sooner rather than later if i keep hearing about it.

resident doctor #4 backed off of the frightening phrase today but it didn't stop him from making some thoughtless statements. [even though i couldn't retrieve food on friday, saturday, or sunday he thought it was great that i didn't make myself throw up. now the anorexia dictates that this whole week will continue to be foodless, thus great.] let's ponder the mystery of how resident doctor #4 stated this without contemplating negative consequence, or let's not and chalk it up to his student status.

he knows i leave for europe this afternoon and probably didn't think it fair to pile on any stress until returning to see him at the end of the week, but inadvertently did. this kind of crap makes me extremely frustrated. if i visit a physician for x, y, and z, with instances of abusing y to fix x, determining y by insulting z certainly does not deserve an accolade.

him: you're going overseas today, right?
flagrant: yeah, i have to go to the bank and buy some rugs.
[confusion]

when do you think he'll realize that i did answer the question?