Bartering with flesh for a little pain. / Scenes like this give sadomasochism a bad name.

Guess who has been feeling sick?

Your friendly I-NEVER-GET-SICK-IN-THE-WINTER-GTFO blogger. That is, me. This means I've been spending a great deal of time reading, being miserable, not eating, being a bit more miserable, and watching movies. This means you get a shiny pseudo-review of a quirky gay film, aren't you happy? You should be. The last time you got one was Salomé.

Anyway, a while ago one of my friends got me into mubi. Back then, the movies you could stream on the site were very few and most were kind of terrible, but now you have several good ones. It's really cheap, too - about €4 for one movie, or €12 for unlimited monthly streaming. Oh, and if you enter the coupon code "popcorn" you get one free movie.

I had my eye on Sebastiane for a while (because the categories I lurk the most are "horror", "musicals", "gay and lesbian" and "road movies", not necessarily in this order). I'm not sure if I should have watched in on mubi - while I think it's the uncensored version, I think some things were cropped out.

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

This movie is basically vaguely based on the story of St. Sebastian. I say vaguely, because most of the time you'll hear about Sebastian being sentenced to death by being used as a target in archery practice somewhere around the Palatine, or in the Circus Maximus. You'll also hear about him surving this ordeal and being nursed to health by St. Irene, only to openly challenge the Emperor and being clubbed (and then possibly decapitated) to death, and thrown in the Cloaca Maxima. There's more to this, and the most fascinating thing is that his existence is disputed to begin with. Nobody knows for sure if he exists or if he was made-up at some point. In this movie, however, when Diocletian finds out that his "favourite" (what this actually means is unclear, though some artists have interpreted this in a homoerotic context, see D'Annunzio) is actually a Christian he's simply sentenced to an exile of sorts. He's sent to The Middle of Nowhere with a small army group.

This "small army group" is mostly made-up of soldiers who act like 12 year old boys. I'm not kidding. They keep making jokes about sex, they get drunk, and they're incredibly gross. It's like what would happen if let several boys loose in the middle of the desert, with no Justin Bieber haircuts and things like wine or pornographic images of women. With soldiers like these, it's really no wonder that the Roman Empire even fell; it's obvious that they were too busy listening to Simple Plan. In the middle of nowhere.

The army group also consists of a... commander, I guess? who is really, really, really good-looking. Distractingly so. Maybe I'm just biased because I really like men with long-ish hair. I don't know. But really, this commander guy is very beautiful. He also falls in love with Sebastian, presumably because while he's the least attractive soldier in the group (with the exception of the guy-with-no-nose), he's the only one that acts like a regular person. They're also in the middle of nowhere, mind you.

The soldiers bully Sebastian and each other, and the commander also falls in love with Sebastian, who officially has a worse life than Malcom from Malcolm in the Middle. A lot of scenes feel, indeed, like they were taken from a bad pre-teen movie, probably one that was on Disney Channel on every slow hour ever. It's unfortunate, because it really takes a lot away from the tension between Sebastian and the commander once the action starts moving. It's very disruptive. I understand that these scenes were necessary for "compare and contrast" value, but towards the end they become downright unfortunate.

(Oh! There are also some very gratuitous scenes in slow motion, mostly about shirtless men and water. One of those times, there are two guys wrestling around in the puddle or something. This movie's score is by Brian Eno, by the way.)

The scenes with Sebastian and the commander* blew my mind, however. You can almost feel the tension between the two, as Sebastian tries to resist himself and the commander, who in turn aggressively pursues him and even tortures him. They made me uncomfortable, in a good way. They disturbed me. I really enjoyed these scenes, though the build-up was very much ruined by some of the scenes featuring the other soldiers. Not all, however: when they pass out drunk around the fire and the commander returns, quite intoxicated, to his room, there was an unsettling difference in tone. It's the difference between your friends who shitfacedly decide to take pictures they will forever regret, and the friends who go home after several drinks and think it's a brilliant idea to read dramatically the entirety of Anactoria, while crying over their unrequited (queer) love. Not that this has happened to me; I also don't have a recording of this event that is now in safe in Switzerland lest it fall into the wrong hands.

Anyway! This movie is entirely in Latin, which is very interesting. The Latin version is quite playful sometimes, such as when a dung beetle is named Maria Domus Alba. On the other hand, the English subtitles are awful - at some point, pedicare gets translated as meaning to make love, which is a rather... delicate way to put it. It sounds like a young, virginal, Christian lady made these wholesome subtitles. However, the discrepancies between the two can be quite an interesting experience that adds to the movie. I think that it's best enjoyed if you have some knowledge of Latin, however, and know your queer history also helps.

The main downside of the whole idea of making a movie entirely in Latin, is that many actors struggled with it. Not only did this mean cutting down and simplifying a few lines, apparently, but it also means having to deal with awkward accents. The acting feels very artificial at times, too - the mostly-amateur cast might have something to do with this. This isn't a bad thing, however, because if you're in the right mindset the artifical feel of this movie will feel positively decadent.

Visually, it's dry. In a good way. The beginning is quite over-the-top, but the scenes set in the middle of nowhere capture the brine and dust of the place, and the less-than-glamorous life of the soldiers stationed there. A review I read pointed out that this movie explores the undercurrent of camp present in Bible movies, and I'd say that's an accurate description. This movie evokes those endless movie sessions your family may have had around Easter time, but dresses it with homoeroticism and a dry sort of camp that relies more on sand and rags than glitter and perfume.

I really, really enjoyed Sebastiane. It's very different from what I expected it to be, but it blew my mind. It feel dry, hopeless, tense and poised, in the best way possible. It's uncomfortable, the way watching that movie about Ben Hur is uncomfortable (it's also less long and less boring). It has its problems, and it's not for everyone, but it's very captivating. I believe Des Esseintes would find it sufferable.

* I'm not sure if he's a commander, I don't know much about army ranks and it's a little too late to look it up without having to locate every single time I've used the word in this review, so I'll just openly point it out and apologize for being wrong.

(I'd like to note that I have not re-read this, so I'm sorry if there are lots and lots of typos. And have some gratuitous Momus in the title, for your trouble.)

P.S.: Lindsay Kemp!

I had to.

So I had a perfectly respectable post about celebrity crushes, but then I was going about my daily doings and this happened in my head so I figured I'd share with you all, because anything about one of my homegirls is basically relevant to this blog and my life.

(the first picture is from Funny Face and I reblogged it on tumblr, as you can see if you click that link, a while ago. the second one came from Google Images, and you can find it here . It's Phryne Seducing the Philosopher Xenokrates (1794) by Angelica Kauffmann. I love the "look and learn" watermark though.)

Look at how intellectual my "philosophers" tag is.

Current addictions

So like, there will always be room in this blog for art featuring shirtless men with longish hair, especially if it looks campy as hell, just saying. Also if you look up "Dorian Gray" on Google Images with safe search off, you'll get gay porn! Really bad one, with guys with baseball caps who look really beefy. I don't like it. I'd tell you more but my mother might read this - hi mum! I have never touched straight porn in my life, ok? Ok, bye!

The Picture of Dorian Gray - Ok, this one is not a new addiction. I'm the person who has "Dorian" and "Sibyl" on her list of names for imaginary future children that will probably never exist (my lifestyle of choice does not pay vegetarian baby food). But to prepare my body for the uncensored new version, which I've only gotten around ordering now and which must have been stolen by the postal system, I've been re-reading and it's even better than I remembered. I will never not love this book. It has made such a big difference in my life and revisiting the characters always brings new things and feelings. (I could go on and on about this and Oscar Wilde. I've actually included Oscar Wilde's work in a therapy assignment about major life events and influences that have made me the person I am. If not for Oscar Wilde, I would be miserable, closeted, boring, and in Law school rather than Classics. Have I mentioned that I would be miserable? Because I would.)

The cover looks a bit like something about a girl who ends up in mental hospital in the 90s, which sucks.

Rough Honey by Melissa Stein - Alright, Melissa Stein kind of intimidates me, but she's one of my favourite living poets since I discovered her work a few weeks ago. I immediately ordered her book and I love it. It's not pretentious, it's insanely melodious and the words just roll so easily off your tongue.

Here, have a gratuitous painting of St. Sebastian. My facial expression is exactly that one whenever I get shot at with arrows, it's not like it's painful or something. Don't mind me, I'm just going to chill here with this arrow stuck on my arm.

Tender Pervert & Circus Maximus by Momus - Probably because of NaNoWriMo, because there's no better soundtrack when you're writing about Roman History, hagiography, and queerness. With lots of shirtless people thrown in for good measure. Circus Maximus sounds those really bad Christian pop songs, except it's good and not very Christian. I really recommend it if you're into sex and Catholic imagery (I'm not a Catholic, though, I'm just morbidly obsessed with pictures of young saints trespassed by arrows. Sebastian Flyte is my gpoy). The only song off this that I dislike is (surprisingly) Paper Wraps Rock. Tender Pervert is really melodious and sounds a bit like those tapes of nursery rhymes and children's songs I listened to as a child, except it's pretty sexual. It's also probably my favourite Momus album, and I don't care one bit what anyone might say.

I have this plate!

Moomins - As I've mentioned before, I've been spending a great deal of time sulking and reading children's books and eating chocolate. The Moomins series are some of my favourite children's books, so I've been spending a lot of time in Moominvalley. I will never not love them, they are absolutely genius.

Someone, somewhere has written fanfiction about this. I also want to point out that Desire is my favourite Sandman character, even though I identify the most with Delirium and I used to be obsessed with Death (well, not just in the Sandman series) when I was 15. Also, this is clear evidence that genderfucking is really, really hot and everyone loves it even when they only love it secretely.

Nighty Night by 8in8 - I found out about this through Neil Gaiman's tumblr (not featured in this list because my obsession with tumblr, Neil Gaiman, and Neil Gaiman's tumblr is nothing new). It's basically what happens when Ben Folds, Neil Gaiman, Damian Kulash, and Amanda Palmer decide to get together and make music. Neil Gaiman singing, guys. Neil Gaiman. I still want in on the whole Gaiman/Palmer marriage. We could have a big bed for three people and discuss relevant things like Mythology and Sex Pistols and sex. WE ARE MEANT TO BE~


Ok maybe not, but I can only hope to one day a) write as well as Neil Gaiman and b) be married to someone who has a mad musical skills like Amanda Palmer. IT'S ALL I WANT FROM LIFE, OK? OK.

I'm ridiculously attracted to this man. I blame it on when he played the MC in Cabaret, unfff.

This video. You can thank me later.

Can you tell it's 4 AM and some noise outside woke me up? Yep. Good nite, gentle readers, I bid you adieu! Parting is such sweet sorrow.

"In those days trolled Jane the Baptist, preaching in the nishta smoke of Judaea."

(Or: Eri Watches Stuff: Salome (1923), but that quote from the translation of the Bible into Polari seemed wildly appropriate because this is about decadent arthouse movies and the 1920s and Oscar effing Wilde.)

Alright, so I have probably officially failed NaNoWriMo by now. It's the age old problem of getting past 5,000 words, because I generally have no motivation to get past that. Especially since in my story it's Summer, and they're all being happy and homoerotic in Rome and eating a huge box of Kinder they bought at the duty free. Fuck you, characters! You're supposed to be miserable!

Thanks to several other things, my life lately has been about spending a great deal of time in bed, reading children's books and refusing to eat because I feel sick all the time.

I am basically a sober Sebastian Flyte, and by sober I mean for about a week now.

I have also been very angsty about queer issues, but I will spare you the ranting because that's not what this post is about, even though the one I drafted before it is (it's also about how much I hate Neo-Realist Literature, how much I love Percy Bysshe Shelley, and how I think fans of Milan Kundera are generally pretentious shits).

No, gentle reader, this post is about one of those things I do very often when I want to procrastinate life and everything in it: watch movies. You see, I'm very passionate about film, even though I don't have a favourite movie (Velvet Goldmine is probably it, though). So passionate that, for example, I like anything about glam rock, homoeroticism, or talking animals, but on the other hand I am very passionately intense about how much I dislike Eva Green, certain movies, and other stuff. This is because Eva Green is a terrible actress, and talking animals are really so much better. This is a Fact.

One of those movies I've watched lately is Salomé, the 1923 movie based on Oscar Wilde's play of the same name. For those unacquainted with this play, it's absolutely marvellous and sexy*.

Most reviews start by explaining that this movie pretty much single-handedly put an end to the career of Alla Nazimova, the actress who produced this movie that was insanely costly for an art house work. She also stars as Salomé, and was often thought to be a lesbian, which is relevant because the fact that most of the cast was rumoured to be gay helped the movie be a complete flop. Something else that may have contributed to the epic failure is the fact that it's beautifully decadent, and probably very much ahead of its time.

I can see why reviwers think this worth mentioning. On the other hand, nothing could really have prepared me for what I was about to see. (Cue eerie music.)

Indeed, this movie is over one hour of Aubrey Beardsley's illustrations for the play effectively coming alive. I love the sets. I love the costumes. I want to live in Salomé's wardrobe and make sweet, sweet love to it. The version I watched was also tinted and the colours were surprisingly undisruptive but in fact added to the mood (unlike what happens in other movies; in this case I suppose it is more like in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari).

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern will survive. They will survive!

Many of the lines have been cut, however, presumably because they didn't translate well into silent movie format. On the other hand, the action still manages to convey them.

(Even still, I have mourned the loss of my favourite part. Those of you who don't know the play may want to avoid spoilers by leaving now. When Salomé finally gets the head she asked for, she says:

SALOME: [Holding the severed head of Iokanaan.] Ah! thou wouldst not suffer me to kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan. Well! I will kiss it now. I will bite it with my teeth as one bites a ripe fruit. Yes, I will kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan. I said it; did I not say it? I said it. Ah! I will kiss it now. But wherefore dost thou not look at me, Iokanaan? Thine eyes that were so terrible, so full of rage and scorn, are shut now. Wherefore are they shut? Open thine eyes! Lift up thine eyelids, Iokanaan! Wherefore dost thou not look at me? Art thou afraid of me, Iokanaan, that thou wilt not look at me? And thy tongue, that was like a red snake darting poison, it moves no more, it speaks no words, Iokanaan, that scarlet viper that spat its venom upon me. It is strange, is it not? How is it that the red viper stirs no longer? Thou wouldst have none of me, Iokanaan. Thou rejectedest me. Thou didst speak evil words against me. Thou didst bear thyself toward me as to a harlot, as to a woman that is a wanton, to me, Salome, daughter of Herodias, Princess of Judaea! Well, I still live, but thou art dead, and thy head belongs to me. I can do with it what I will. I can throw it to the dogs and to the birds of the air. That which the dogs leave, the birds of the air shall devour. Ah, Iokanaan, Iokanaan, thou wert the man that I loved alone among men! All other men were hateful to me. But thou wert beautiful! Thy body was a column of ivory set upon feet of silver. It was a garden full of doves and lilies of silver. It was a tower of silver decked with shields of ivory. There was nothing in the world so white as thy body. There was nothing in the world so black as thy hair. In the whole world there was nothing so red as thy mouth. Thy voice was a censer that scattered strange perfumes, and when I looked on thee I heard strange music. Ah! wherefore didst thou not look at me, Iokanaan? With the cloak of thine hands, and with the cloak of thy blasphemies thou didst hide thy face. Thou didst put upon thine eyes the covering of him who would see God. Well, thou hast seen thy God, Iokanaan, but me, me, thou didst never see me. If thou hadst seen me thou hadst loved me. I saw thee, and I loved thee. Oh, how I loved thee! I love thee yet, Iokanaan. I love only thee. I am athirst for thy beauty; I am hungry for thy body; and neither wine nor apples can appease my desire. What shall I do now, Iokanaan? Neither the floods nor the great waters can quench my passion. I was a princess, and thou didst scorn me. I was a virgin, and thou didst take my virginity from me. I was chaste, and thou didst fill my veins with fire. Ah! ah! wherefore didst thou not look at me? [She kisses the head.] Ah! I have kissed thy mouth, Iokanaan, I have kissed thy mouth. There was a bitter taste on thy lips. Was it the taste of blood? Nay; but perchance it was the taste of love. They say that love hath a bitter taste. But what matter? what matter? I have kissed thy mouth.

(Copy+pasted from here because I'm too damn lazy to type it up myself.)

Like me, Salomé seems to like hair. She likes hair very much.

I mean, this is probably one of my favourite things Wilde has ever written. The movie, however, manages to still convey this without title cards when Salomé sneaks the severed head of John the Baptist under her cape and appears to be in some strange, wild ectasy over it all. I was still disappointed, because while the actor who plays John the Baptist is undoubtedly shirtless and has a nicely hair-free chest, he's still not hot enough to warrant naughty things being done to his head.

And what's up with his hair? Oh well, he's still shirtless and that's all that matters.

The build-up of tension leading to the final scenes also didn't work so well in this movie, however, but once things start happening it is everything but dull. The sexual playfulness and tensions are palpable in the movie, and I really enjoy how it downplayed Herodias's influence in Salomé's decision. It also highlights Salomé's ambiguity, as a young woman, a virgin who is capable of being deadly and highly sexual; whether it's better to see it so blantantly or to simply see all her traits fusing delicately in Wilde's work is up for debate.

What is truly going on here is also up for debate.

The whole movie also seems to feel much like Herod's court, a decaying, decadent thing. It's like the calm before a storm, something rotting away. The fact that Herodias looks a bit like a former Mötley Crüe groupie may or may not help.

That's Herodias, in the middle. "This reminds me of this one time when I downed a whole bottle of vodka with Nikki Sixx. Woohoo! Oh yeaaah! Baby, baby, baby!" There are also some very good-looking boys sitting around, looking surprisingly undisturbed.

Finally, I really like John the Baptist in this. The last time I read the play was quite a while ago, and I don't know if it's very common to do this when it's staged, but he's a lot more sexual here. He's basically someone who doesn't want to succumb to temptation, but boy, does he feel tempted. He's borderline phobic, as though he's afraid of being pulled into the wantonness of Herod's court. That, I feel, makes him far more human and likeable (it also makes the whole scene feel uneasy and sexy, I'm not gonna lie).

In short, this is an unsettling, sticky sweet movie that everyone there at home should watch (cue commercial jingle).

Alright, I'm going to stop now because I can't even bother to re-read this, it's kind of a crap review and I don't want to be too spoilery. The screencaps suck because I used MS Paint. You can find the movie here, if you're interested.

* Your mileage may vary.

NaNoWriMo

It's that time of the year again. The month when all your writer friends disappear into some underground burrows, others sniff disdainfully and light up another cigarette, and much crankiness and coffee happens. It's almost as bad as exam season. It's NaNoWriMo!

The first time I joined NaNo was in 2006 or 2007. I don't remember. Since then, I have participated on and off, but I've never actually finished. This is all you need to know.

Today's post is about software. I usually do all my writing by hand. Nietzsche is said to have marvelled at how using a typewriter changed is style so much, and indeed, I think what we use to write can affect our style. To me, there's nothing like pen and paper. I'm oddly specific about it, too.

On the other hand, I seldom type. The only things I type up directly are fanfiction and essays for university. Oh, and blog entries. Other than that, I just try to avoid typing anything. I don't like what it does to my style.

Finally, I have a typewriter (an old light blue Corona that comes in what looks like a suitcase) but I rarely use it. It's clunkier than a computer keyboard, and I'm not that much of a hipster to sacrifice comfort for style (even though I'm also the person who has a mini-collection of quills and calligraphy pens, and loves the way they scratch the paper).

When I use my computer, I often go for plain and simple Microsoft Word. I don't use half of its features, but it's still basic enough, unlike lots of writer-specific software out there that does everything but plan the story for you. I don't like that. Microsoft Word is also useful when I need to write essays with tons of footnotes and quotations.

My favourite word processor, however, is Q10. It's incredibly basic. You can't format your text beyond changing font style and colour (same for the whole text, you can't make certain words different from others) and the background. On the other hand, those things are insanely easy to configure, and it takes up the whole screen, so you can be overwhelmed by neon pink or blinded by fluorescent yellow if you so desire. That means it's considerably less distracting, because you can't see the handy browser shortcut right by your Start menu, waiting for you to click it and spend five hours on tumblr without doing any writing done, staring at shirtless men in the name of "research" (hey, my novel is about shirtless men and religious discussion). At the bottom of the screen, there's a small black bar with things you can activate, like a word count meter, character count, page count (even though there are no visible breaks between pages), clock, and even a timer, among other features. You can also choose to activate sounds like typewriter keys when you type, or to write in complete silence. It backs up your files if you wish, and you can also set it to load your current project as soon as you open it.

Best of all? It's insanely portable. It's tiny, so it loads very well, and you can also stick it in your dongle (there, I said dongle) and take it everywhere.

On the NaNo Technology forum, where I seldom post but sometimes lurk, someone mentioned ommwriter. It looked really beautiful from the previews, so I decided to check it out. It's similar to Q10, except you can also add background music that sounds like those "zen" CDs targeted to middle class white women who like yoga and organic yogurt. There's also a variety of backgrounds, including textures and images, and you can make them change automatically according to your mood or something. The interface looks really clean and pretty, and you also get to choose the sound of your keystrokes. It's like if hipster scientists were bored of tumblrs with tiny unreadable fonts and icons, and instead decided to breed a word processor and a mood ring just for fun.

It looks great, it's true. Even though the free version is very limited, you can buy the most recent Dana whatever for about $4.11 or something. I tried the free version, was instantly bored with the backgrounds, and all the prettiness was distracting. There is no word meter, which is a feature you want around when you're doing NaNo, and the whole thing almost makes me forget that none of my characters is a middle-aged Reiki fiend or a yerba mate addict.

It's also bigger, so it takes longer to load, you have to install it, and it's generally a bore.

No, give my Q10 any day. Its lack of features and old school visuals are ideal for things like NaNo and essays that I keep proscrastinating or with stubborn introduction paragraphs (oh Aristophanes, you and whatever point I was trying to make about you!). It's not pen and paper, but it's still very simple and unassuming, without lots of annoying features.

eri's epic cooking adventures

For two years now, I've been on an on-going quest for delicious food that is easy to make. Of course I can cook basic pasta and rice dishes, and of course I can make things like tea, sandwiches, toast, instant noodles, and frozen pizza. Sometimes, however, I like the feeling of making something slightly more complex and knowing that I cooked it myself. It's a lovely feeling. I also completely lack an attention span and I'm very, very lazy, so I can't cook anything very difficult or very slow.

My experiment today was Eri's Couscous Thing. It's only been a couple of hours so I don't have a better name for it, I'm sorry. Anyway, I read about yogurt and black pepper sauce and I wanted to make something with it. I didn't have a recipe so I had to improvise the sauce, and find things that went well with it. Enjoy.

Ingredients:
- Couscous
- Yogurt. Use whichever kind you prefer. Plain is probably best.
- Salt
- Pepper (I used black pepper)
- Garlic (I used the powder thing)
- Lemon juice
- Parsley (optional)
- Rucola
- Whatever else you want to add. I was going to use lentils, but I ran out of lentils and there were none at the supermarket sooo I had to use black beans instead (I used the kind that doesn't have a very strong flavour)

How To:
1. Cook the couscous.

2. While the couscous is cooking, mix the yogurt + black pepper + garlic + lemon juice + salt. You can add the parsley now or at the end, whichever you prefer. Beat it all together using a blender, an egg whisk, or your Hitachi (if you go for the latter, please wash it. Please). I prefer it if the yogurt isn't overpowering and the black pepper and lemon juice are noticeable but balanced (the salt and garlic shouldn't be strong at all), but your mileage may vary.

3. Make a layer of couscous, place the beans on top, and then the rucola. Add the sauce. Take a picture. Mix everything together and enjoy.

NOTE: I guess you can add more ingredients if you like. I didn't measure the ingredients before adding them - I was cooking for myself so I just used as much couscous/beans/rucola as I felt I wanted to eat, and I kept tasting the sauce to make sure it was just about right. I'm sorry.

My favourite hour of the day is 5 PM. At that hour, the sun shines through the corner of my window, beyond the trees of an almost-plastic green. That's the hour when the noisy neighbours seem to be exhausted of all their commotion and retire back into their house. That's the hour when I put on my shoes and a dress and leave the house, to wander around the streets before buying some salad for dinner and giving up on productivity.

I have a brand new bottle of Fragolino. I thought it would be a good idea, since I enjoyed it so much in Rome, when Alex and I drank it in a very dignified manner that did not end up some policemen telling us off for public drinking after 9 PM and something about getting lost and trying to pretend the bottle was closed, until we finally made our way back to the safety of the hostel's kitchen. It's different here in Florence, though, and I have nobody here to drink it with.

I've been craving good, fresh things. Everything else feels quite dusty here. I'm eating strawberries.

I might check out the Biblioteca delle Oblate today. I miss Rome. I wish I could go home.