The Same Old Game

Every day just the same

Old rules for the same old game

All I gained was heartache

~~ “The Bed’s Too Big Without You” by The Police

Yesterday, I was feeling lowdown, dirty, and mean. Just kind of generally pissed off at the state of affairs right now, you know? I’m still pretty pissed off about the stranglehold the NRA has on our nation, but today was mo bettah.

This is purely instinctual and most of you know that I don’t like to deal in gut feelings very often. I want facts and rational thinking. But I also know that sometimes you get a feeling about a person when you meet them...you can just tell that they’re a bullshitter, or that they’re full of themselves, or that there is something inauthentic about them. I’ve learned to trust those instincts as I’ve gotten older. That’s why I knew early on that the Yam was the King of the Bullshitters, and I have been proven right over and over again.

So anyway, today I felt a subtle change in our nationwide gun debate. To be clear, I don’t think that anything will be done soon, because we apparently have a bunch of ball-less wonders in Congress (and that includes both sides and both genders) who love their handouts from the NRA. Do I expect any forthcoming legislation? Nope. And that makes me feel as sick and disgusted with things as ever.

I can’t put my finger on it but something just seems a little different. I could very well be wrong and I might just be putting my own confirmation bias on it. But this is two horrific shootings in just a few days and I wonder if some people aren’t starting to wonder if this is how we really want to live as a nation. It will forever be to our shame that we didn’t do something after Sandy Hook and we all bear that shame. (Some of us more than others.)

There was also something off about all the “thoughts and prayers” comments that were spewed everywhere today. It seemed as though lawmakers were just spouting the usual lines and that even they didn’t believe them anymore. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who is sick of these useless platitudes.

Nothing is solved and nothing will be solved for the foreseeable future. This is a hard truth to accept. But it is also a truth that the majority of Americans want to see strengthened background checks and common sense gun laws. Will that solve every problem or prevent every mass shooting? No. But can we at least start fucking somewhere? Why is that so difficult? It’s a reasonable question.

Yet another gratuitous Comey photo

Last night, I immersed myself in “The Walking Dead.” Today, I stayed home and did my best to get back to my Happy Place™, or at least a place where I wasn’t filled with disgust and rage. I succeeded pretty well. (When I heard Ted Cruz speaking, I decided that enough was enough, and I switched over to music.)

I found some joy today as James Comey switched to his real name on Twitter and he is 100% his own self on there now (and a verified account, to boot). Those books aren’t gonna sell themselves, right? He’s good at the slow tease on Twitter. I should probably rephrase that, but I’ll let it stand. I put on my dangly silver peace sign earrings and that made me happy, too. Sometimes it’s the little things.

I can’t snap my fingers or wiggle my nose and make things better. But I can make an effort to find some peace in my own little corner of the world, and then I’ll go from there. Gotta put your own oxygen mask on before helping others, right?

Here’s the mono version of this great song. I think it has an interesting sound to it, and I might like it better than the album version.

More coping

You came along and you made things right

You are my song and you are my melody

~~ “Melody” by *repeat repeat

Well, it’s been quite a week, hasn’t it?

The Mueller investigation is bearing fruit, so that was a positive thing. I’m grateful for that.

I was happy to be at the Notre Dame-Wake Forest game on Saturday and see a win. It was crummy weather and we got rained on a lot, but we got the win. And it didn’t snow!

But things took an ugly turn.

I’m still trying to find the positives in things. I’m trying really hard.

Another gratuitous James Comey photo (Jaaaaaames)

At the game on Saturday, I got to experience some of the right-wing’s hatred of Hillary and I attempted to use an approach that James Comey (Jaaaaaames) recommended to me. Reach out, keep your cool, have a conversation. Ask questions in a reasonable way. I tried, I really did. And it didn’t make one bit of a difference, at least not that I could tell. Unless maybe, just maybe, they’ll think about the comments they made and think about my reaction, and think about why they felt the need to tell me they loved me. Perhaps a bit of a crisis of conscience there? I don’t know. But I found it really disturbing and upsetting.

Today, we found out that there are more Russian connections in the Yaministration, ones that the individuals lied about in their confirmation hearings. This is not normal, it will never be normal, and we cannot let it become normal.

Finally, we had another mass shooting, this time at a church in Texas. As of this writing, there are 26 confirmed dead. The usual platitudes from congresscritters were uttered: “Our thoughts and prayers are with them.”

I cannot begin to tell you how completely and utterly sick I am of hearing about “thoughts and prayers” with every goddamn mass shooting we have in this country. Those seem to be happening on an almost daily basis. They just keep on offering up those “thoughts and prayers” and people just keep getting their goddamn heads blown off, including kids.

Fuck the NRA. They are a cancer upon our society and they are active participants in the murder of innocent people. How long is it going to take to have legislators who will stand up to this awful, awful group and say, “I don’t want your blood money.” How long? Who will have the balls to do it?

I watched the coverage for a while and then I had to stop. I keep writing about this bullshit, this bullshit keeps happening, and I don’t see an end to the bullshit anytime soon. Let me say it again: Fuck the NRA. And while I’m at it, fuck you, too, Wayne LaPierre, you horrid wankstain upon humanity.

So! What did I do to try to cope with this latest round of disgust and anger? I went with music, as I almost always do. A current favorite is *repeat repeat out of Nashville and something about their music makes me feel good about things. Their music can rock most righteously, but there are also moments of sweetness and light, especially in the vocals of Jared and Kristyn.

I needed some sweetness and light this afternoon. I think we all could use some sweetness and light.

Put this in your earholes. It might not change things (that’s up to us, isn’t it?), but it might lift your spirits for a moment. And sometimes that’s what we need to keep on keepin’ on.

Fangirl Rising

My heart goes tap tap tap

Like tapping on a beaker

~~ “Chemical Reaction” by *repeat repeat

The Handsome String Bean of Justice

Fangirl is on Cloud Nine.

I won’t go into how I was able to send an email to James Comey (Jaaaaaames) because I don’t want to disclose my methods. Fangirls have a code and I will not violate it. (We don’t really have a code. It’s more like my personal code.) I also won’t share his email on social media, which is also a personal code. And no, I am not a hacker. I wouldn’t even know how to go about that.

But I was able to send an email and it went through because I got a response today. When I saw that he had responded, I broke out into a sweat and I had this crazy rush of adrenaline. “What have I done?? Is he going to tell me to leave him alone and don’t ever write to him again?”

No. He was very kind and thanked me for my comments and wrote that he was happy to hear from South Bend because he has a connection with someone at Notre Dame (also not mentioning that here), so he tries to follow what is going on with ND. In my original email, I said that so many conversations are difficult in the current political atmosphere (or words to that effect) and that I like his thoughts on communication. He suggested a recent column by David Brooks about dealing with those who have different views and I checked it out. It was very thought-provoking.

I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I was! I know plenty of people still have issues with him. I get it. But if you spend any time listening to what he has to say (I have...just a wee bit), you start to understand where he was and is coming from. So I admire him a lot. I truly feel that he is one of the Good Guys. I am still stunned that he responded but he does seem to be a lot more open to some limited social media interaction since he has a book coming out. Lucky me!

So that pretty much made my weekend.

Lawyer Up (subtitled Handsome String Bean of Justice)

Breakin' rocks in the hot sun

I fought the law and the law won

~~ “I Fought The Law” by The Clash (originally Sonny Curtis/The Bobby Fuller Four)

Based on comments I’ve seen on social media, I’m not the only one fascinated right now by the Mueller investigation. But I’m no lawyer, so how does one make sense of it all? There are bits and pieces of news coming out almost every day. So-and-so has been subpoenaed. What does it mean that so-and-so is refusing to appear before the Senate committee investigating the Russian meddling? Who can the Resident pardon, and can he pardon himself? Who does Team Mueller want to talk to now, and why? I think anyone who has dealt with a lawyer knows that the legalese is almost impossible to understand unless you have a legal background yourself. I don’t, so I have to look elsewhere. (Sadly, my lawyer friend Sheria is no longer with us, so I can’t ask her anymore. I can’t help but wonder what she would make of all this. I don’t doubt that she would be as appalled as I am.)

While I appreciate legal experts like Jeffrey Toobin on CNN, I’m finding that I prefer to read most of my news these days (listening on Sirius is another good option for me). It gives me enough separation that I don’t get riled up by the talking heads and I can try to parse and analyze it in greater depth. To that purpose, my absolute go-to on these matters is Renato Mariotti, a former federal prosecutor who is currently working for a Chicago law firm and doing occasional commentary on MSNBC. (He is also considering a run for Illinois Attorney General.) I recommend his Twitter feed to everyone (he has a Facebook page, as well) because he is able to cut through the noise and make sense of complex legal issues for us laypeople. He does threads on Twitter that lay out the essential facts in a concise way that is easy to understand, and he is also willing to answer questions when he can. Obviously, the full extent of the legal intricacies can’t be addressed in that forum, but he does a great job of distilling the explanation down to the crucial facts. He’s one of the best “follows” on Twitter right now, in my opinion!

Although he’s not a lawyer (he’s a journalist who writes about legal matters), Benjamin Wittes is another great follow. He is a Fellow at the Brookings Institute and co-founded the Lawfare blog, which is a wonderful and valuable read. He also does threads on Twitter and has great insight into legal matters after years of journalism on such matters.

I will also mention here that he seems to be a genuinely decent guy. When I recently left a comment (one that I take full responsibility for not wording well—I knew what I meant in my head!), he misconstrued my meaning and retweeted me. It was great to be retweeted but it was for the wrong reason and resulted in a pile on of people telling me that I was delusional, in so many words. I scrambled to do damage control, and luckily, he immediately saw my response that I think he might have misunderstood me. I clarified, he apologized not once but twice, and he removed the retweet right away. He could have said, “Fuck it, I don’t know this woman,” and left it up there, but he didn’t. I really appreciate that! The people who were piling on also apologized, so it all worked out well.

Then there is Robert Mueller and his crack team who might just save the entire world. I’m sure there will be more about that as we move forward.

Finally, although he isn’t tweeting about the investigation (for obvious reasons), I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that my Former FBI Director Boyfriend in an Alternate Universe is tweeting again and the account is confirmed to be his. It’s been known for some months that a particular account was probably James Comey’s (Jaaaaaames), but it was private. This week, he took it public and after posting a photo that was obviously him, the followers started piling up. Wittes is a friend of Comey’s and also confirmed that it was his account. He promises to “tweet in useful ways” and it should be interesting to see what all he posts. Remember, he has a book coming out this spring! He should post a photo of him sitting at an old typewriter, reading glasses perched on his nose. “The author at work.” Haha! I would dig that photo.

What is amusing about Comey’s account is that some people were trying really hard to analyze what was going on with the handful of photos he posted. The gist of it was:

He’s in Iowa.

He’s wearing running shoes.

He’s running for President!

Okay, that’s kind of funny. But probably not a legitimate theory. I would be very surprised if he decided to run, first of all. The more significant thing is that his wife is from Iowa, and her father just celebrated his 90th birthday, per the Des Moines Register. So they were in town for a family birthday party.

Like the old medical school adage, when you hear hoofbeats, think horse, not zebra. Or like when I was doing my internship and we were learning about bacterial meningitis, a headache doesn’t mean you have meningitis...it probably means you have a tension headache, or a neck and backache from carting around all those medical books! (I did not have meningitis, although I was a little worried for a while there.)

Also, bonus points to the person who commented and called Comey a “handsome string bean of justice,” as well to the person who included a GIF of Leslie Jones flirting with Colin Jost on “Weekend Update.” If you can’t hear her voice as she calls Colin a handsome string bean of justice, you’re doing it wrong!

Here, have a Clash song. Yes, yes, I know it’s more of a protest song about the long arm of the law, but I’m using it here to convey that while the Yam and his Yampeople can try to obfuscate and run, the Law will win.

Beth’s Music Moment: A Live Twofer

There's just something

In that music that makes us

Do that dance

In that special brew of tears and

Beer and fear and romance

~~ “Another Guitar” by The Rainmakers

The amazing Richard Butler

Hey, pals! It’s been a while, but I’ve been busy with stuff like going on vacation, getting ready for a party, and just generally trying to take care of business in a world that seems to have gone quite mad.

But I’m still here and most importantly, I am still rocking out.

This is not in chronological order because I’m saving the best for last.

This past Wednesday, we went up to Chicago to see The Psychedelic Furs at Thalia Hall. I’ve been a Furs fan since the early ‘80s, and like many of the ‘80s bands, I took a hiatus over the years but revisited them recently and loved them all over again. When I saw that they were playing in Chicago, I knew that I had to see them live. I’m happy to report that they absolutely blew me away. Ken wasn’t a long-time fan like I am, but he was blown away, too. He agreed that we’ll go see them whenever we get a chance!

Richard and Tim Butler

They sounded incredible—one of the tightest bands I’ve ever heard live. They looked fantastic, with the Butler brothers, lead singer Richard and bassist Tim, wearing these super cool military-style frock coats. They looked just as cool as they did back in the day! And Richard Butler...good lort. I’ve always loved his voice and it was as powerful as ever. He has that deep-edged baritone with a slight raspiness to it, but still smooth as silk. And what a frontman! As soon as he stepped onto the stage, he owned it. There wasn’t a lot of banter with the audience beyond “Hello, Chicago!” but his presence said everything that needed to be said.

The best part, and something that I always notice whenever I see a band, is that they all seemed to be having a good time, especially Richard. The camaraderie and affection seemed genuine to me, as did Richard Butler’s smile. He has that elusive quality of stage presence and talent and he worked us all for everything he could. I was mesmerized!

Absolutely in my top ten concerts (I should probably try to make that list again soon) and I look forward to seeing them again!

Speaking of stage presence, I’ll go back a few days and talk about our fourth house show with Bob Walkenhorst, the Kansas City musician and artist. He is the frontman for The Rainmakers but also travels to do house shows. We have enjoyed these shows so much that this was the fourth in a row and this one was so amazing that the bar is set really high to top it!

Bob Walkenhorst (Photo by Jenn Riches)

We have a crew who usually attends these shows and they were in full force on Saturday. It was a full house. I told Bob the next day that I’m not sure if it was just the atmosphere in the country, or what, but it was like we were all primed for something special. Planets aligned or some shit like that. I don’t know, but everything converged to result in one of the most amazing evenings I’ve ever experienced.

Bob sang his heart out (including a couple of my requests), he told stories about the songs, he talked about my experience seeing The Rainmakers way back in the late ‘80s, he welcomed us all and made us a part of his world as much as we made him a part of ours. As he wrote in the song quoted at the beginning of this entry, it was a special brew. It was certainly an intoxicating one. I wrote him a letter a couple of days later and said that it was that amazing dynamic between a performer and an audience where we feed off of each other. It’s nothing less than synergy! The very day that letter went out, I got an email from him in which he said that it was one of the best nights he’s ever had playing and that he was in heaven. I believe him because after four years, I know that Bob is not a bullshitter (and I have a pretty good BS detector, anyway). He said it wasn’t just him, it was US, and the “common desire to FEEL something.”

That is it exactly. That connection is amazing and it is one that I treasure. I feel music so deeply and it means so much to me. What a wonderful thing to enjoy a performer like Bob who connects on the same level and is able to bring us all to the Promised Land. (I’d dare to say that based on Richard Butler’s performance and demeanor, he feels that same connection with his audience.)

We also had a little dance party after Bob’s performance and let’s just say that booties were shaken and selves were gotten down! (A lampshade may or may not have been worn. I can neither confirm nor deny that. But it wasn’t me!)

In the space of a few short days, I got to enjoy two utterly amazing performances from two amazing artists, Bob Walkenhorst and the Furs, and it renewed whatever passes for my soul. This is why live music is so important and absolutely vital for me. I am often moved by recordings that I listen to, but nothing—NOTHING—beats seeing a band or performer live. Other planes and other dimensions are reached. Hearts are touched, minds are sometimes changed, and as Bob said, we “FEEL something.”

Support musicians, especially your local musicians, by going to see them live! And as I always say, be sure to show the band some love. Chances are good that you’ll get some back and everyone benefits from that.

Rock on, Warriors!

De-evolution is real

Gotta painful swelling brain

Got me pulling out my hair

Gotta painful swelling brain

Clutching at my brain

~~ “S.I.B. (Swelling Itching Brain)” by Devo

I’ve been saying for a couple of years now that based on everything we are seeing happen in our country, Devo is a perfect soundtrack for our time. Their message of “de-evolution” that began in Akron, Ohio after founding members Mark Mothersbaugh and Jerry Casale experienced the Kent State University shootings in 1970 seems more relevant than ever.

I try to remain optimistic and I generally believe that we are moving forward as a society, despite how incremental our movement seems at times and despite the fact that we often seem to be going backward.

It was hard to feel optimistic this weekend as I saw the current resident of the White House assault one of the very things that makes our republic a great one: the freedom to peacefully protest. I won’t go into details because I’m certain that you’ve heard plenty about it. Suffice it to say that he is calling for NFL players who choose to peacefully protest racism in our country by taking a knee during the national anthem to be summarily fired.

Players have contracts and a union to protect them, so that’s a dumbass remark right off the bat. But beyond that, it goes against the very things that are enshrined in our Constitution. We have the right to freedom of speech and the right to peaceably assemble. Colin Kaepernick and other athletes who choose to exercise this are perfectly within their rights.

It did my heart good to see other players and coaching staff support the players who choose to do this. Even Terry Bradshaw kicked some ass by saying that the “president” was off-base and that the players have the right to do this, just like every other citizen in our country.

Some are trying to say that kneeling during the national anthem is disrespecting our country and all those who fought on its behalf. I do understand why some might feel that way but I don’t buy it. If you fought for our country, you fought to defend our Constitution, and the right to protest is very much a part of that. You might not agree with it, and that is certainly your right. But that is part of who we are. Kaepernick and others are exercising their rights.

I will defend that every damn day.

I have green eyes, too. 

In a related (kind of, but it’s a chance to mention my boyfriend in another life) story, James Comey gave a speech welcoming incoming freshmen to Howard University, his new, temporary gig as a guest lecturer and fellow. A few students decided to protest and loudly interrupted him as he tried to speak. He finished his speech but it was obviously not an ideal situation. Beyond my initial thoughts of “Leave him alone!”, I know that he’s a grown-ass man and as a prosecutor, Deputy AG, and FBI Director, he’s faced plenty of challenging moments, and he’s still standing (tall). It probably bothered me more than it bothered him.

I actually agree with the right of these students to protest. Considering what I said above about players taking a knee, how could I not? I would be a hypocrite if I said they didn’t have that right. I also think that they have a very valid point about racial bias in law enforcement. It is something that I think needs to be addressed.

But that’s exactly what Comey wants to do and it is what he was trying to do at the FBI before a certain orange thing fired him. (*sob*) He was working hard to diversify the FBI and it was an active push in his tenure as Director. Did he get some things wrong? Did he misspeak on occasion? Undoubtedly. But I don’t doubt for a moment that he is not even close to a racist and that he was and is committed to striving for justice and fairness.

So the students were within their rights but I wonder what they really accomplished? From everything I’ve read, Comey was always willing to listen to other viewpoints and try to learn from what others had to say. By shouting him down, they stifled that dialogue, and really...to what end? Quite a few other students seemed to feel the same way and said that they were there to hear various viewpoints and learn and discuss (and he got a standing ovation after his speech...I’m so proud!). That is exactly what college should be about, but it is also what our day-to-day interactions should be about. As Comey said, when you have a conversation with another person, you both listen, you both talk, and you both come away smarter.

Shouting down your opponents has its place when they are merely spouting nonsense and rhetoric. Shouting down someone who is trying to have a conversation with you seems counterproductive and ultimately futile. It accomplishes nothing.

This is admittedly not always easy for me. I have tried to have discussions with others who don’t see things the way I do, and when the other person refuses to accept objective reality and measurable facts, it really is an exercise in futility. I don’t want to give up and there are some days that I have more patience than other days. I try to maintain my sense of fairness and a willingness to listen to others, but if you want to debate with me, you’d best get your game on, because bullshit, strawman arguments don’t fly with me. If you go with ad hominem attacks, you’ve already lost. A high school friend wrote in my yearbook that you never, ever want to get into an argument with me, because you can’t win.

I’m not sure that’s true, because I will admit when I’m wrong, but don’t fling bullshit my way and expect me to believe it. If you try to shout me down, you might have silenced me for a moment, but I will write a freaking blog post. So there. As my crest says on this blog, “Verba volant, Scripta manent.”

Words fly, writings remain.

Lustron

Dani parked her old Mustang under the big oak on Prairie Avenue and after checking the traffic—there wasn’t any because it was late—stepped out onto the street and shut the door behind her, taking care to not slam it too hard. It was spooky quiet out here, but Leo had asked her to meet him out here, so she had come.

She walked across the street to the old gas station where he had told her to meet him, her shoes crunching on the loose stones on the asphalt. She stepped into a pothole and almost twisted her ankle and muttered, “Shit,” but she was okay and continued over to the station. A dog howled in the distance and it sent shivers down her spine. Why the hell had he asked her to meet him out here? Couldn’t he have just come to her place?

As she got closer to the station, she looked up. The moon was full and shone down on the building, and the security light lent a green glow to the structure. It had a weird metal siding on it and she wondered why people had ever made buildings out of this metal. It seemed to her that it would be really cold in the winter and stiflingly hot in the summer. She had lived in a mobile home for a while and it was like that. But when she looked at the building, she had to admit that it looked pretty cool. The metal seemed to glow under the moon and the greenish tint of the fluorescent security light.

She walked up to the side of the building and wondered what the graffiti scrawled across the metal tiles meant. Before she could think about it too much, she heard a low whistle from behind the garage. She walked over to the corner and peeked around without saying anything. She heard another whistle and then a whisper. She stayed silent and then she heard her name.

“Dani. It’s me.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. She walked around the corner towards the voice. “Leo! What are you doing?” She kept her voice quiet because of how silent the street was, but she wanted to laugh. “You scared me!”

She got closer to him and then he stopped her with a harsh, “No!”

She stopped in her tracks. He was huddled against the building, slumped down in the fallen leaves, in the shadows. “Leo? What is it?”

“Stop. Don’t come any closer.”

“Well, if you didn’t want me to come out here to be with you, why the hell did you call me? And for that matter, why the hell didn’t you just ask if you could come over to my place? It’s not like you’ve never been over there before and it’s not like I haven’t told you that you’re welcome to come over and—”

“Dani,” Leo whispered. “For fuck’s sake. Shut up.”

“Leo, you do not get to tell me to shut up. I came out here to this creepy-ass old gas station at one o’clock in the morning because I thought you might be in trouble and it really is creepy as hell out here and you do NOT get to tell me to shut up!”

She thought she heard him chuckle. “Are you laughing at me, Leo? You had better not be laughing at me!”

Then what she thought was a chuckle turned into a horrible gurgling sound.

“Leo! Are you okay? You sound like you’re choking!” She started towards him and he stopped her with a loud moan. “Leo. You do not sound like you’re okay.”

He coughed and it sounded kind of...clogged. “I’m not okay. I got bit, Dani.”

“Bit? By what? A bat? A raccoon or something?”

He laughed quietly, but it turned into another coughing fit. “No. Not either of those.”

“It was that dog I heard howling down the street, wasn’t it? I bet it’s rabid! It was fucking Cujo, wasn’t it? We have to get you to the hospital!” She stepped towards him again.

“Dani. No.” She could barely see his hand raised to stop her, and then he pointed towards the garbage bag a few feet from him. “There. That’s what it was.”

She stepped over to the garbage bag, broken glass crunching under her shoes. She was glad she hadn’t worn sandals. She toed the garbage bag and it shifted, rolling towards her. It wasn’t a bag of garbage. A human face stared up at her, grey and pockmarked, Leo’s pocket knife stuck in its eye.

She sighed. “Ahhh, goddammit, Leo.” She looked over at him.

He nodded. “I know.”

“You knew they were heading this way. Why weren’t you more careful?”

“Do we really need to have this discussion now, Dani?”

“No. I suppose we don’t. It’s a done deal, isn’t it?”

She saw him nod and then the clouds cleared and the moon shone brightly on Leo’s face. It was as grey as the “garbage bag” a few feet from him.

“Leo. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. Me, too.”

She pulled the pocket knife out of the garbage bag’s eye and stepped closer to Leo.

“Dani, stop.”

“No. I have to.” She took his hand and kissed it. “We had some good times.”

“We did. You know what you need to do now.” His voice had become more guttural. “You know the plan. You have the supplies.”

“Yes. I’ll do what I need to do. Good night, Leo.”

He nodded. “Good night, Dani.” He kissed her hand and she tried to ignore how slobbery his kiss was.

She did what she needed to do. She walked around the front of the gas station and looked up at the green glow of the corner of the metal building. She walked rapidly back to her Mustang and headed back to her place.

It was a whole new world.