INTERIOR--CROWDED COURTROOM (Megan Pringle has just been told by a judge that her cameras will be the only ones allowed for a shot of a perp walk of a man accussed of aiding a fleeing convict). Cynical Newspaperman(turning to Megan Pringle): What did he tell you? Megan Pringle (Smugly): He's only allowing one camera in the courtroom. Cynical Newspaperman: Well...that's good for you. Megan Pringle (Even more smugly): Why, thank you!
That old woman "investigative" reporter for the other station was fuming underneath, you could just tell...and Megan Pringle was like "What's up, you old bitch, I've got layered hair and a jacket with our logo on it...you want some?" I've chosen the wrong career.
"I'm getting ahead of myself here. When speaking of OU's transportation options, one cannot fail to mention the beloved "Bobcat Express," which conducts two free service routes in 30-minute increments every weekday from 7:30 a.m. until 5:30 p.m.
But the tired dance of two 15-passenger vans looping up to the Ridges and down to the HDL every half hour would impress no one from our shuttle-happy, kid-toting peer institutions."
and THEN Athens NEWS editor and All-Around-Hero let me use this as a transition:
"But in my book, sound arguments never win in the battle against cold temperatures."
AND THIS as an ending (with the ellipses):
"So in the meantime, I have this idea for a Kings-Island-like skywalk from Grover Center to my house..."
This is Part TWO of our ongoing series "Slaughtering a Pig: The least of my transgressions" in preparation for Feb. 8, the day our little piggy goes to the market.
there is only one thing I want to remember a year from now.
Friday night was happy hour with co-workers, followed by a beer run and late night showing of Thank You For Smoking at Bangs Theatre.
Saturday, we became the best aunt and uncle in the world. No explanation is suitable. Pictures must follow.
Sunday, more family, this time in Washington Court House with a second viewing of the brand new baby Owen.
Sometimes, when baby Owen and I get sick of adults who want to sit around and talk about babies, we sit in the back of the room, and I tell him about more important things. Weighing in just over 12 pounds, Owen is a dynamite snuggler.
For those of you I've instructed to recognize The Signs, I did smell the baby's head, but I am not talking about The Fever. Simple case of Womb Envy, ladies. Back off.
in a lot of ways, you are pretty much my hero. thanks for saying nice things about me a few posts ago. since then, i have made at least three people get up from their chairs to come read it.
i think everyone here understands that when it comes to the land of online diaries, you are a pioneer.
Halfway through my freshman year of college, I broke up with my boyfriend of, oh, I don't know, like three years or something, and then I got in a car accident and forgot.
I apparently was asking for him from the hospital bed, so he made the drive up to see me and somehow, we ended up dating for three more months. He sat with me in Washington Court House through the whole jaws-wired-shut, 85-pound-housebound-and-unshowered thing, and then, about two weeks after I went back to school, I broke up with him again.
I'm just saying.
This is part One of a new series "Slaughtering a Pig: The least of my transgressions" in preparation for Feb. 8, the day our little piggy goes to the market.
Please check out this cutline before the higher-ups get wind and change it. (That means you, Father of Milly.)
The lesson here is No More Bad Jokes In The Photo Requests.
I LOVE my lumberjack photographer [the ladies are right when they say he's soooooo dreamy... and a pretty good photographer, too :)] But seriously, people "Most Awesome Porch Ever" really should have raised a red flag.
Lin, you're allowed to mock SNP relentlessly, but please remember, in this week's issue, there is a new installment of Cat Tales to keep you humble.
As J-wray told me when I showed her the clip, "That's a keeper."
While on the treadmill, I committed these moments to memory for you.
During a closed caption showing of Passions:
(There is a Man shown lying unconscious on the floor ) Buxom Blond: "That's him! That's the rapist! Now take off his mask so we can see who he is!"
During a closed caption showing of Montel:
Montel: (To a mother of a boy with gender identity disorder) When did you know you had to send him to elementary school, where he would have to face the pressures of his peers ... he would have to deal with his identity in a public setting ....
Mother: When he was 8.
And finally, a note of observation:
Do not, under any circumstances, make eye contact with ANYONE, regardless of gender, race or creed, while completing 3 sets of 10 on this machine:
As a sidenote, if I'm ever estranged, during the subsequent reconciliation (if it happens in the snow, Home-Alone-One-style)
or if I'm ever comatose, and the family is waiting at bedside, while the doctors and nurses go home for the night,
or if I ever successfully get the Ring into the Fiery Chasm From Whence It Came,
or if I ever become entangled in some sort of violent mobster montage,
I think the accompanying soundtrack will be the recently-downloaded Hallelujah, covered by the late great Jeff Buckley.
And if I'm ever behind the wheel for a fatal head-on collision in the pouring rain,
or if I ever finish the last half mile of a half marathon in Cincinnati,
or if I ever throw myself from the roof of a hospital shortly after giving birth to an illegitimate child in KC, Missouri,
I will, without a doubt, be listening to June 18, 1976 (both real date and a song title) by the great (but not yet late) Pedro the Lion. Every girl hopes to be both 'sad' and 'beautiful.'
Also, FYI, a good song for searching through the ruins of a home destroyed by weather or fire: The Stanley Brother's Come all you tenderhearted.
Jerry Martz, Carol Luper, Crystal "Ball" Davis and Dana Turtle.
now that's muthafuckin' team coverage.
sorry mother, but i can't resist that powerhouse foursome -- and their props! -- wiping snow off cars, crunching through the streets of Pickerington ... clips of the salt truck warriors spliced with highways overtaken by winter's spewing wonderland ... YEESSSS!
(Talya, I'm so excited that you're back! Don't tease me ... )
(and now back to feelings!)
Guys, here's the deal. Sometimes, I feel like "Oh, man! I've got to go home to BANGS this weekend?! WTF?!"
Especially when I-71 is shut down, resulting in a 2.5-hour commute home -- but I digress.
On those rare occasions we do make it back to C-Bus before Monday, sometimes we hang out with suburban/urban corporates (whom we love, don't be mislead,) but mostly the whole thing just reinforces how boring and comfortable normal and happy people can get.
Then there's this whole one-up-manship thing happening with the watches and the wines and when children are dropped into the picture -- whose baby can lift themselves up on its elbows first?!, etc.
Is this what do humans do when we no longer have to make our own clothes or kill our own food?
I guess I forgot drinking. And going to shows.
This is not intended as another "I'm better than you" post, obviously, because, well, just look at the little life I've built for myself -- look at the tattered, hemless pants. The 'journalism' job and the frequently-updated self-conscious web log. The worn shoes and blistered hands. (And those nails...good lawd, sister.)
But! Take heart!
The visit does make me feel better about being so weird. Because I'm mostly happy shoveling pig shit or snow/tearing down walls/painting/scraping/taking our bulldog sledding. I almost cried a little bit when I looked out the bedroom window this morning, so you know it must be true.
Many Americans ages 18 to 24 have no idea what's going on.
The recent hubbub, or lack thereof, on the O'Reilly v. Colbert thing prompted me to research FoxNews.com. Specifically, I was looking for each time Papa Bear has mentioned Jon Stewart on his television program.
Lessons I've learned as a result of this study are as follows: 1.) The Colbert Report is even more hilarious when you fully understand the Factor. 2.) Which will take about two hours.
Although I've researched my favorite show (gasp) on Wikipedia, the fact that I haven't really engaged Papa, or foxnews.com, for that matter, for more than 30 seconds until tonight proves O'Reilly correct when he asserts the above blog title during his May 29, 2006 show. He continues here: (most informed parts in bold.)
For example, a National Geographic survey says 63 percent of that age group can't locate Iraq on a map of the Middle East, even though the USA has been fighting there for more than three years.
That may be because 80 percent of younger Americans don't even own a world map. Ninety percent of the young'uns don't know where Afghanistan is. Ninety percent. And here's the best. Twenty-five percent of Americans ages 18 to 24 could not identify Dick Cheney as vice president.
Now, many of these young Americans vote and they are influenced by celebrities and the press that fawns over them. In some young precincts it is hip to be dumb, cool to be uninformed. In fact, you're a geek if you know a lot about current events.
Thus we have millions of Americans who get their news from Jon Stewart and their point of view from bomb-throwing entertainers. This isn't new .... Drugs (became)acceptable because the pop media endorsed them. So popular culture does matter, it does have influence. Even on life-death issues such as the War on Terror and how to wage it.
Our republic demands citizens pay attention in order for the best people to be elected. Is that happening today when 64 percent of young Americans can name the "American Idol" winners but just 10 percent know who the speaker of the House is?
We may be heading for big trouble in this country. In fact, we might already be there. And that's "The Memo."
Oh my gawd. He's right. I had no idea that was going on.
Stewart and Colbert are doing us a disservice. These people are actually much worse than what I've been told on television.
Do you think our perception of FoxNews pundits and their followers is as distorted as the their perception is of us? Will the gap be closed before they die off and/or steal all the social security?
Or more importantly, how long until Bill O'Reilly Googles me?
FULL DISCLOSURE: I bought accessories for my iPod nano at 7 a.m. while covering the grand opening of Wal-Mart at Carriage Place, and I have recently engaged in a serious debate regarding David Letterman's Will it Float, re:the Marzipan.
which reminds me, constituents. Each year, thousands of children are injured or killed by vehicular homicide. Vehicles travel at a high rates of speed each day through major thoroughfares in our community. Even Johnny, seen here playing on a quiet sidestreet, is not safe from the Volvo speeding up his parents' circular driveway. these heartless hunks of metal must no longer be allowed to troll freely outside our homes and commercial districts.
That is why I've decided to legislatively put a stop to this great societal menace by banning all vehicles within 1,000 feet of schools, hospitals, libraries, churches and daycares - all areas where our treasured children commonly pool together. Also, cancer. I feel confident that with their vote, my fellow council members will support my efforts to stop vehicular homicide and cancer.
i know the above comparison does not work for several reasons (mostly because vehicular homicide is already illegal and also because cars, unlike sexual predators, are sometimes useful.)(but they can also transport sexual predators, so their threat should not be ignored) -- but I needed an outlet for my rage.
The better joke would be to outlaw something obviously dangerous but extremely rare, (drunken crane operators!?) within 1,000 feet of a schools, libraries, parks or commercial districts. But i mostly just went with the car thing. please send better jokes to theteet@blogspot.com.
Regardless, my final question for the night:
Should I go ahead and put all my hope in Osama ... I mean Barack Obama?
twice i've seen you and done nothing. once on crutches in front of the Gumby's, and again, limping along highway one hundred sixty one, just before 5:30 in the morning.
Worse than any actual knee injury may be reading about them while watching 24, where the guy whose name starts with an "F" stabs that other terrorist guy. you know the one. right under the kneecap with that thing. yowser.
apparently, i didn't read "Running 101," where the first paragraph states "even though you may feel like a rock star on the dreadmill, don't increase your mileage by more than 10 percent each week."
what's a 10-percent increase from zero? is that 12 miles? with lots of inclines? at a speed that's way too fast for my tiny stump legs?
crap.
so that elaborate training plan i printed out from runnersworld.com? probably should have not immediately ignored that.
in other dull aches, seth has taken to playing the Laugh Track Game, where he belts out in ecstasy at every commercial on television.
any lame one-liner can prompt LTG. first there is the boisterous laughing and if we're lucky, there's the explanation of why the joke was absolutely zany.
"because you shouldn't have to calculate 'pi' to order one!!!!" get it?! pi = 3.14 -- with an infinite number of decimals! -- or PIE, as in PIZZA PIE, as in ordering one, which should NOT be complicated!
my reaction thus far has been one of continuous punches to the arm or shoulder.
he has also decided that today, he will not call Maybel the same name twice. so we have moobles, boobles, bumbles, bumblina, gumball, bobbletop and more recently, cobblebob.
hey, when in Bangs ... **editor's note: wow. seems we're working ourselves through a bit of a dry spell here. in the meantime, find a link to this post at ofnointeresttome.com
Not only are we #1, but we're #1 AND #2. Take that Columbus News Babe-Off!!!!
But, I boast with a deep recognition that at any moment, things could change. Google cares not about heart, but only about outclicks. Theteet.blogspot.com could easily be replaced by some other up-and-coming kid. It is true what they say that apart from god, important victories (like this one!) are somewhat in vain. One moment you're at the top, etc.
But in the meantime, I am Stephen Colbert. And you are my TeterNation, of sorts. Buy yourselves a drink, my friends. Bask, if you will. I will not ask your service again until summer.
Some time ago, I began compiling a list of famous people I served on a daily basis while a long-time barista at Starbucks -- a job I would hold forever if Seth would let me. Also a job where, arguably, the perks (!) were much better, even at 20 hours. Apparently, employing (and offering rock-star health benefits) to 5 billion twenty-somethings is part of a grand-slam business plan.
As I list them, I wonder why I'm not more famous than I am.
It's probably because of the phenomenon where, unless I have my hair pulled back and am wearing some sort of green smock-like attire, I am totally unrecognizable to these people. They've obviously stuck with me, however. A random sampling:
- Keith Daily, spokesman for our governor-elect. Venti mocha. - Katie Wolfe, publisher of Cbus Alive, daughter of some dude. Venti traditional, no room, double cupped. - Frankie Hejduk, Crew/US soccer wildman and former "bestie." Dopio espresso - Joel Pizzuti, or "super-rich Joel," son of downtown dweller/artcollecter/jazzy industrial complex developer Ron. He would drink whatever his hangover requested that day. - Jim Foster, OSU women's baskeball coach. The Dispatch and The Times -- never a coffee. - Megan Pringle, hottie newsanchor, girlfriend of Joel. Two grande nonfat lattes. I'll never forget the story of how she cleaned out her refrigerator one weekend. - Andrea "not as hot in real life" Cambern. I can't remember what she drank, because I could never get over that messy hairdo. - Don Plank, attorney for every redevelopment project ever. Grande drip.
Steve Buscemi came in once. I think it's time to start calling in some favors.
but I'm calling on you now. Similar to the way Stephen Colbert would call on his heroes.
We have recently been informed not one, but FIVE DIFFERENT WEB SITES have trumped theteet.blogspot.com for the #2 spot in Google's search references for "monique ming laven hot"
Granted, when the quotes are added, we are the only reference, but.
With readership down (only about 16 'daily-lookers,' compared to more than twice that prior to Black Friday 2006) securing the #2 spot is all I have left to brag about when I tell public officials and relatives about this blog.
Please help by googling without quotes and clicking on theteet, but before you do, let me prepare you for what you're going to see. DO NOT BE TEMPTED BY * hot co-eds * hot nutritional meals * a guy named Reichert Bragging About Getting a Finger-Waving Bus Driver Fired * Swarms Of Quakes Detected At Mount Saint Helens * a guy with a dinosaur name talking about Bad Religion and perhaps the greatest competitor, * the Columbus News Babe-Off: Championship Round
If newsradio's Dirk Thompson can call on his listeners to manipulate results of the Dispatch's daily Hot Issue, then by all things meaningless, I should be allowed this shread of victory.
(This is, by far, *the best* reason to have a blog.)
Hello 2007! You've got a lot to live up to.
2006, you had biting, tears and blood. You began in Clintonville and ended in Bangs. You were no 2005, but you had your moments, as indicated below:
January
The new year came with new responsibilities, as I had been crowned Sorority President, or rather, some other Lyndsey Johnson at OU had been. Either way, I was getting the emails, so I accepted my responsibility, organized fake charity fundraisers and handed down discipline like an old pro (WAS THAT A VISIBLE PANTY LINE ON TINA AT CHAPTER?!) Brittiny helped decode their Language.
Mid-month, I said goodbye to my old beats and Moved On Up to the west side, thankyouverymuchJackSowers. For three weeks, Seth and I trained for a marathon and a Mennonite Bible Study. At a bar in Cincinnati, Mae and I ignored the plight of a disabled.
February
We're still living on Arcadia Avenue, but no one really knows what we do on the weekends. On a Sunday, in a dramatic interpretation, Seth takes a long, hard drag of an imaginary cigarette and squints his eyes a bit, barking "fucking...city council..." Everyone in the room agrees he looks nothing like us.
I spoke with Jim Tressel about Miami Trace football and Maybel celebrated her first birthday -- at Chuckie Cheese! -- on the first. My dad lost his job and, after a brief stint in El Paso, got a much better one. I agreed to grade more than two dozen "I am unique because ... " essays written by suburban high school seniors. A tragic number were not unique. Lin left for the dark side. We've not spoken since.
Finally, after a long night on the lam, I vowed to give up blogging for Lent.
March
(see footage: Black Monday, 1929)
April*
After a month of reflection and religious meditation I began to Fug again. I saw my gyno in Panera with his hands wrapped around a deli sandwich. In a somewhat deflating set of meetings, a home inspector told us "I've seen houses in New Orleans in better shape than this one," and also, in an official $300 report, deemed a house "borderline uninhabitable." An online quiz revealed I am 33 percent Neo-Pagan. I got a tapeworm and had to poo in a jar.
May**
Teter camping trip. The one with the belly cream. We bought our first home -- in Bangs!
June Quotables
"I think we've eaten all the mint chocolate chip. Can you turn it up?" -- to my roommate Lin during Moulin Rouge. :)
"Chris Spielman." -- in response to Seth, when he asked who I'd just hung up on. (twice)
"In Cincinnati. Something about farmers and a city-wide treasure hunt." -- explaining blisters to my mother.
"cost to move water holding tank from pit outside home into basement" -- first of several unfortunate google keyword searches
July
There is an image of me, curled on my side of the bed, wrapped in all the covers, refusing to speak to the man I married because the duvet cover on our 'display bed' doesn't match the accent pillows in the second bedroom -- 'and probably never will.' For undisclosed reasons, Seth does not divorce me.
There is hot, sweaty work. Weed whackers, poison ivy and lemonade breaks. Maybel had 27 ticks. The neighbors are skeptical. Grandma died and came back to life. We got a land line.
August "Baby ... go get that pig."
In Bangs, Ohio, on my 24th birthday, I had bowl of soup at Ruby Tuesday's. Seth ordered me a Peach Birthday Smoothie (emphasis added.) (also the word Birthday was added.) Sometime between Saturday and the day of our two-year wedding anniversary, I was moving buckets full of soggy ash and mud into the dumpster and was indescribably happy. Maybel came to work after the yeast infection in her paws.
I was accosted by old ladies at the dollar theater. Lowe's closed at 6 p.m., but Teth Seter and Our Hero remained un-divorced. Maybel had a pregnancy scare. The Pig learned to root. I visited four girls who lived with me in college.
Reasons why I suck, Vol. October
In a CVS parking lot, Johnny Cash tells me that Jesus has been crucified. On a Monday, I returned to work to find the Honda idling with the doors unlocked and the radio blaring -- as it had been for almost 48 hours. Later I will make my editor "nine out of ten" annoyed with me, I will receive a "four out of ten" at Paul Bunyan's Lumberjack Competition, and a I'll take home a "221 out of 320" in the Dead Celebrity 5k Race in Westerville.
November*** Jon Stewart blows into town. We've been texting constantly ever since. As our newspaper's hand-picked Special Ops team, Phil and I go 0 for 7 tracking down missing Republican candidates. In Bangs, during halftime of the Michigan game, Jen and I prove a better shot than Garth. Everybody is sad about Brittany, K-Fed, Rumsfeld and Kramer.
December
I begin to shop regularly at the Mount Vernon Kroger. 'Dug' is the only one who remembers. I wake up at 4 p.m. in the parking lot of a library and realize how much I need a vacation. Seth and Maybel rise early to snag a "doorbuster" flat screen television. In a related and similarly uncharacteristic moment, angels in heaven mouth "WTF?" Teters welcome Owen Charles, and all except Paul escape The Fever. On the last night of the year, a future FBI agent sings along with Natalie Imbrigillidaaaa, or whatever her name is, but we don't mock him because he could easily 'erase' us.
*Winner -- Month with worst news from professionals **Winner -- Month almost accidentally described with a Haiku. ***Note: Closet project has been struck from the record.
Name: Seth
Alias: Teth Seter or Steter.
In Brief: The Steter in his natural habitat. Married to theteet.blogspot.com since August 2004. Often the victim of serious hyperbole. Handy.
Hates: Noise, Dominion Homes, above-the-nipple touching, when people get 'handsy.'
Loves: pies (of any kind), dirt, smoking a pipe after eating pie. also, cows.
Name: Maybel
Alias: The Pig or Boobles.
In Brief: Kentucky-born English Bulldog since February 2006.
Hates: Watermelon. All other kinds of melon. The sound of a new trash bag being opened and sitting in the back seat.
Loves: Treats, walks, Charlie, 'humping it out' and barfing.
Name: Amanda
Alias: The Sister.
In Brief: theteet's younger (but larger) sister. Survived a brain bleed in February 2007.
Hates: minor inconveniences that make her blurt out uncontrollably, brain bleeds.
Loves: UFC, cornhole, texting, fast food and her dog Charlie.
Name: mom and dad.
Alias: the 'rents.
In Brief: Ashland natives and frequent visitors. They taught me how to swear.
Hates: hospitals.
Loves: squirrels and lattes.
Name: Mae
Alias: Klingler or Maddog.
In Brief: Cincinnati resident and former college/Old Towne East roommate. Once wrote a song that made theteet cry.
Hates: Hate.
Loves: Jesus, family, puns, guitars and gardening.
Name: Colleen
Alias: Crankin and Rankin.
In Brief: Akron resident and former college roomie. Arguably more handy than Seth. Nice bosom for hugging.
Hates: all drivers.
Loves: beer, coffee, cigarettes and boys we all find strange.
Name: Talya
Alias: Strader and Sweet T.
In Brief: Chicago resident and former college roomie. served brief stint at theteet's 'accountability partner.' collects monthly fee for keeping quiet.
Hates: people who do not comment on her blog.
Loves: social justice, eggs, her boyfriend monsterbeard and the occupation of barista.
Name: Chris
Alias: Christopher, Monsterbeard and Nadine.
In Brief: Chicago resident and college buddy. Maker of 'We once waited up in the dark with a gun,' and other misadventures.
Hates: people who are looking the other way.
Loves: history, film, his girlfriend Strader and acronyms.
Name: pdawg.
Alias: none needed.
In Brief: Former co-worker who is willing to eat waffles with theteet at 4 in the morning regardless of level of snow emergency.
Hates: anyone under the age of 35.
Loves: Hostess pies, old man rants and golf.
Name: Linsly.
Alias: MERLIN, lin or newbie.
In Brief: Former co-worker who lived with us for a week. I can tell this kid anything. He's like a brother.
Hates: sexual predators.
Loves: zombies, guns, porch chats and movie quotes.
Name: jaydubs.
Alias: jwray and 10bagspacking.
In Brief: Co-worker who taught me everything I know about the world.
Hates: mean jokes, mushrooms, clipping fingernails in the office.
Loves: crafts, her gay-together but also betrothed person Kyle, Columbus Bride Magazine, veggie-friendliness and basil.
Name: jessica.
Alias: jessm.
In Brief: College buddy with the amazing handshake. I believe she might be back from Alaska and living in Hudson now.
Hates: poverty.
Loves: Jesus, jazz, geography and hilarious t-shirts.
Name: brittiny.
Alias: Brit-Brat, experimental dater or The Dunlap.
In Brief: Former co-worker (notice a theme here?) who started with me at SNP on the same day. Former Sorority president taught me the ropes of being a lady. her wisdom did not take.
Hates: visible pany line.
Loves: cocktails, shoes, 'the blue box' and her boyfriend the Lizard.
Name: garth and jen.
Alias: not safe around house plants and the real spider-man and/or HSnothingswronghere.
In Brief: Co-worker couple who proved themselves fun at work and on the farm. Periodically forced to kiss in gas station parking lots.
Hates: local broadcast news reporters.
Loves: zombies, movie quotes, Indianapolis and lin rice.
Name: Angie.
Alias: captain cool.
In Brief: Former co-worker who stole my heart. She is the only thing I've ever lost to the Youngstown Vindicator.
Hates: joe and misogynists.
Loves: celebrity gossip, hilarious captions, biking/hiking, her boyfriend Jef, her mom and Columbus.
Name: Melville.
Alias: welcome to earf or bad town.
In Brief: Former co-worker who let me inherit his seat at SNP. For a while, he was the only one who would talk Reynoldsburg politics with me.
Hates: fleas, eminent domain and people who flip the bird.
Loves: his evil cat, running, opinions, beer and Tom Waits.
Name: The Gerish.
Alias: The Gerish.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, you'll see a tousle of black hair breeze by over the cubicle wall.
Hates: Things that aren't crackers.
Loves: crackers.
Name: Dennis.
Alias: secret reading.
In Brief: Co-worker and rare, elusive creature. If you're lucky, he'll walk over and talk to you. But he probably won't. Once took my sister-in-law to Homecoming.
Hates: The damn kids who walk in his yard.
Loves: Corgis, Cedar Point and Rachael. But not the one you're thinking of.
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