2014 Winter Olympics

I was going to post a snippet today since it’s been a while and I know you are all hungry for a teaser. Too bad. So sad. I didn’t get it done. Don’t lose hope though! Maybe I’ll get it done next week. YIKES! No pressure or anything. Ha Ha

Instead, let’s talk about the Olympics which is starting tonight. This is an important topic, not for the figure skating or the two man luge (which…who thought of that sport and was like, “You know what would be a good idea Bill? Let’s lay on top of each other on a sled and sail down a hill covered in ice and see who fast we can go! That sounds awesome!”).

107I hope that conversation never really happened. If it did, then I have too much confidence in human intelligence. This sounds like a drunken idea that some how took hold and now is normal. Much like calling a drink a duck fart and yes, before you ask, that is a real drink. It sounds like a bunch of frat guys sitting around and throwing some shit in a glass, then laughing as they thought of the most ridiculous name possible. But…I digress.

No, the winter Olympics are great because of curling. Don’t ask me why but curling is like the cold weather bowling and I love it. I can’t get enough. Every four years I get the idea that I want to be a curler and revisit the Columbus Curling Club website trying to figure out how I can work this in to my life. I sit in front of the television screaming at a stone sliding across the ice as if from thousands of miles away, I can sway the direction or that the sweepers will hear me and brush the ice harder. This doesn’t occur of course but I’m heartbroken nonetheless when that rock slides too far and misses the house.


The best part about curling is that I feel like even at 35, if I started now,  I could totally make the Olympic Team. In the back of my mind, I realize  this is not the case. These people have practiced, swept, and perfected their curling release of the rock over years. But I know that I’ll never be a hurdler, a figure skater, or a gymnast. This just seems a little more attainable so I dream of one day being an Olympic Curler.

There are three sporting events that I love more than a lot of things that are probably more important, Olympic Curling, March Madness, and the World Cup. So…this is a pretty good year for me.

If anyone is interested, Curling starts on Monday in the wee hours of the AM. The schedule is below.

The Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics

  1. Feb 10
12:00 AM
12:00 AM
12:00 AM
12:00 AM
5:00 AM
5:00 AM
5:00 AM
5:00 AM
10:00 AM
10:00 AM
10:00 AM
10:00 AM

Meeting Agenda

Here was the agenda for my meeting today…NO JOKE!

I)       OSU Email is the preferred service.
A)     Checking you email
1)      If you have your OSU email forwarded to another account always check your SPAM/Junk folder.  There are no excuses for missing an email because it was in your SPAM/Junk Folder.
2)      Employees of the University (GRA, GTA, GAA, or fellows) need to check your email at least once a day, Monday through Friday.

In addition to checking your email please read the email thoroughly.  If there is an attachment you might want to consider opening it and reading it.
B)      Responding to an email is just as important as reading it.
1)When there is a question posed to you in the course of an email please respond
2) If something is asked of you, please make sure that you reply to this email.
3) In certain circumstances an email will be sent to you directly from the Graduate School asking for your response. Under that scenario please respond immediately and copy Darla and me.
II)     Deadlines
A)     Graduate School and Registrar-Their deadlines are beyond our control.  If you miss their deadlines we will do anything for you
B)      Internal Deadlines- These are written in places like the Graduate Handbook.  We also send reminders concerning due dates.  When you fail to meet these deadlines you may think that you are in the clear, but in reality they will be taken into consideration for things like funding.
III)   Registration
A)     The windows to register open months prior to the start of the next term.
B)      Please register when your window opens.  If you are waiting for your TA assignment then please register immediately after you receive the assignment.
C)      When registering for Independent Study, remember to register for the correct course (5193=MA/MS, 7193=pre-candidacy PhD, and 8999=post-candidacy PhD).  A failure to register for the correct class post-AU13 leads to your Independent Study Proposal and Update being marked as incomplete.  This harkens back to reading your email.
IV)   Degree Requirements
A)     Know them, they are located in the handbook
V)     Excuses
A) Do not make them. They are usually ridiculous, without merit, and no one wants to hear them.

Conversational Void

This conversation actually happened today!

I’m sitting in my office working on something and trying to finish it up before my 11am meeting in five minutes. In walks a person, for their own protection and my sanity, will be called grad student A.

Grad Student A: “Um, Suzanne. Can I talk to you?”

Me: “Sure Graduate Student A but I have a meeting in a few minutes so it will have to be quick.”

Grad Student A: “May I sit?” he points to the chair in front of my desk.

Me: “I guess.” I already know this is going to be a longer conversation than I want to have.

Grad Student A: “Oh, this is a long story and I don’t know where to start…”

He subsequently goes into a long description about how when he came into the country and filled out his GLACIER tax status form, he didn’t put in a SSN because he didn’t have one. Then the university issued him a TEMPORARY SSN and he got confused (big surprise!)

I know what you’re thinking…he’s an international student Suzanne. He doesn’t know. You should be more sympathetic. Here’s the thing. If it was the first time, I would’ve been more sympathetic. Hell, I was sympathetic the first three times this kid was in my office for this exact same reason. He’s in my office – on average – once a week about something.

Anyway, he then continues about how he got confused and without anyone telling him to, he puts in the TEMPORARY SSN from the University into a federal tax system and Low and Behold…it fucked some shit up. He manages call some people…not me – thank God…and get it all straightened out. Here’s where it gets interesting.

So he has the updated report in his hands and is sitting across from me with this expectant expression on his face.

Me: “So, Grad Student A, if you have all of this done, I don’t understand why you’re here?”

Grad Student A: “Well, the last time I printed one of these out, you sent it for me.”

Me: “Right, I sent it for you because you’d only been in this country for two days. You’ve been here for six months now.”

Grad Student A: “So, I can send it?”

Me: “Yes.” Turning to the last page of the report, I point to the very explicit and detailed directions on what to do with it and where to send it. “Send it here.” I said.

Grad Student A: “Do I need  a stamp?”

Me: “No. It’s a campus address. Send it through campus mail.”

Grad Student A: “So I don’t need a stamp?”

Me: “No.”

Grad Student A: “How do I send it through campus mail?”

Me: “Seriously?”

At this point, I can tell by the expression on his face that he is clueless. Evidently, more clueless than I thought. Campus mail is what everything goes through if you are moving from one office/department to another. It shouldn’t be a new concept for him. Anyway, I pull down a campus envelop and hand it to him. 20140123_140136

He looks perplexed.  He turns big confused eyes up to me. Are you kidding me? I hand him a pen and point to an empty space on the envelop.

Grad Student A: “Who is it from?”

Me: “You. It’s coming from you.”

Grad Student A: “Do I just write my name?”

Me: “Yes.”


He fills out his name and then manages to fill out the To: line all by himself. Then he looks up at me again.

Grad Student A: “Do I put our department address here?”

Me: “No, the report provides the address you need to send it to. If you put our department address, it will just come back to you.”

Grad Student A: “Oh, so where do I send it.”

It’s taking everything I have not to scream at the kid. Let’s be honest here, he’s not a kid anymore. He’s at least 23 years old…and yet.  In the back of my mind, I’m astonished that this conversation is actually happening and that I’m a part of it. I merely point the the address listed directly under the name, he’s already addressed the envelop to. He then dutifully fills out the address.

Me: “Don’t forget to make a copy for yourself and sign in the appropriate places before you send it out.”

Grad Student A: “Oh, yes. I have to sign it. Where do I take it?”

Me: “Slip it in the campus mail slot in the mail room.”

Grad Student A: “Can you show me?”

At this point, I’ve lost my patience. His fucking mailbox is in there. The copier’s in there. He’s in there all the damned time. I stand up and walk around my desk.

Me: “Come with me!”

I lead him across the hall to the department mail room and point to the gigantic drawer with an envelop slot that says CAMPUS MAIL in big, black, bold letters.

Me: “Put it in there.”

Grad Student A: “Then what?”

Me: “Then what? Nothing. It’s like the regular mail only on campus.”

Grad Student A: “So the mailman comes and picks it up?”

Now, not only am I almost 15 minutes late for my meeting but I’m pissed off as well. Not a good combo. I don’t have the time or the inclination to explain how campus mail works and he doesn’t particularly need to know the behind the scenes anyway. More importantly, I don’t think he would understand.

He follows me back to my office and waits inside my door as I gather up my stuff for my meeting.

Me: “Grad Student A, was there something else?”

Grad Student A: “No, am I done?”

Me: “Well, I don’t really know since you came to see me.”

Grad Student A: “Oh, well, that was all I needed.”

Me: “Then we’re done.”

Grad Student A: “Great! Thanks Suzanne.”

Really? That’s almost 20 minutes of my life that I’ll never get back.

Who Remodels a Laundry Room? I do! That’s Who!

So let the tears, swear words, and gushing blood commence! That’s right folks, we’re remodeling again.

For several reasons, we’ve decided that it’s time to tackle the laundry room/closet. Mainly because our clothes are now in three different rooms, the washer and dryer really need to be replaced (especially the dryer which started making weird noises a few months ago. – The damned thing sounds like i’m drying a brick as it tumbles around and around the cylinder. I’m not of course, but the racket is ridiculous.) I would also like to be able to see when I get dressed in the morning. Right now, I can’t see shit since most of the time since Ross is still sleeping. To prove my point, the other day during a break in class I discovered that I did – in fact – have my underwear on backwards. I couldn’t see the tag and definitely didn’t feel a difference with the lace cheeky panties. But there you have it. I need to be able to see in the morning and if my clothes are in the laundry room, GASP, I would be able to see and put them on correctly.

Our first decision was…”We need a new wardrobe.” That quickly morphed into:

“Do we need to paint?” 20843744

“What if we replaced the utility sink with a real sink”20843444

“We’re going to need a new washer and dryer soon. You know, before we get blown the fuck up.”20843444

“Maybe we should replace the door too. Have you been on the fire escape lately? Anyone could kick that thing in.”20843744

“Well, damn. Now, where are we going to store shit?”20843444

And yes, i’m very aware that I’m the only one swearing in this conversation.

This is going to be a longer process than I would like. Mostly due to the fact that we are poor and can’t afford a new wardrobe unit, plus the washer/dryer, and sink replacements all at once. What this means is that one half of my laundry room is going to be AWESOME, while the other looks like shit for a little while longer. Maybe I can convince the ‘rents to help out with the W/D purchase as part of my graduation/birthday present…here’s hoping! And yes, I do expect presents for all major life events. I don’t care how old I am.

Then there’s the door.   20140116_192541  He’s right though. That thing doesn’t look very safe.

And the sink. 20140116_192536 Classy…I know. Don’t judge! The last owner was an artist there are a lot of things in this house covered in paint splotches.

Here’s my conundrum.  The previous owners painted the register! A vintage brass register and they painted it…LIME GREEN! 20140116_192552 I don’t think there’s anyway of salvaging it or even restoring it. *sigh*

So, let’s end this on a positive note with some positive affirmations. I am not going to fuck anything up this weekend! We can do this on our own! This will not cost us a small fortune…

Yeah right! How many trips to the hardware store will we make? 6? 10? My bet’s on at least 8. We’ll see.

Countdown to Disney!

I understand that I’m a 35 year old grown woman. But here’s the thing, I DON’T CARE! I love Disney and I’m not ashamed to say it. My husband, Ross, and I are planning a weekend trip to Disney World and I can’t wait. I’m buying a pair of ears for every damn park we go in and (Ross doesn’t know this yet but) I’m buying at least two Vinylmation figurines. That’s right, Disney’s got me, hook, line, and sinker.

Let’s start with the park. We’ve been to Disneyland, and I was at DisneyWorld when I was little (I don’t really remember it and that might be a sin – I haven’t found it in any scripture anywhere but I’m sure it must be there…right?). In 2010 and 2011, I went to Disneyland twice in a 12 month period and that’s saying something for a girl from Ohio. The time my husband and I went (yeah, that’s right! I went once without him), we spent the day at the magic kingdom and I ran around like a cracked-out six year old. See for yourself!


Ross, on the other hand, was like a 90 year old poop who didn’t know what fun was even when he was a kid. Exhibit A


In fairness to my husband, that was a $10 hamburger. Doesn’t matter though, he still tried like hell not to smile on the tea cups. Who does that? You have to smile on the tea cups! I think its a law.

He can’t fool me though, he’s excited. He bought me this as a Christmas present (both for me and so he can go into sucking-the-fun-out-of-everything poop):


He has our itinerary for each day planned out and this trip is four months away. He’s already dictated the paths through each section of each park and where we need to get fast-passes. This damned thing is 864 pages of craziness that my husband has taken on like it was gospel. Little does he know that his entire plan is going to be blown the hell up as I spend the first two hours of each day going from gift shop to gift shop. Ahahahahaahaha!

Next, I’m obsessed with Disney’s ridiculously ingenious idea, Vinylmation. I LOVE these things. I don’t think Disney needs anymore cult followers but I’ll do my bit by giving you the link. LOL!

I bought one, hoping it was Lucifer from Cinderella because here’s the thing, you don’t know which one you’re getting. So if you don’t get the one you want, you just keep buying them! Well, I got Lucifer and one of the cards from Alice in Wonderland. I had to buy two, it evened up my chances. You would’ve done the same! Don’t judge.


Anyway, I was too excited and Ross poo poo’d my purchase saying that it was a waste of money. I agreed and that was the end of it. A few months after that, I was headed to Polaris Shopping Center and there’s a disney store in the mall. I thought I could sneak in there, see what they had and get one…or two.

Turns out…No.

I parked and then decided I couldn’t deal with the mall. When I got home, I told Ross about how the idea of the mall and how the thought of going in made me a little anxious and how weird that was. So, a few weeks later, he went and bought me three. THREE!


He came home and in his very stern voice said, “This can’t become a thing!”

I said, “you’re right, honey” and didn’t argue.

Then, for my birthday, he bought me another one. Isn’t he cute?


Then for Christmas, he bought me another two.


So, for not becoming a “thing”, he’s kinda making it a “thing”. That’s why I love my husband! He knows the way to a girls heart.

New Year’s Resolutions

I know it’s been a while and quite frankly I suck as a blogger. My life is not interesting enough to share because I’m too much of a hermit when compared to normal people. So, in order to start the year off right, my first blog of the year will be about my new year’s resolutions. You can bet that blogging more will be on it! HA!

1. I will read the books I have instead of buying more.

Unless, I absolutely need it.  I mean there are some series that you have to buy to keep up with. I may have 50 free books I’ve gotten from conferences and events, but I need to read the new Kim Harrison and the new Ilona Andrews. I just have to. No one would blame me for that. Their release dates are already on my calendar. I can’t just ignore the little pop-up on my email. That would be rude. Sheesh!

2. I will not disparage myself with self-deprecating statements.

Ugh! This is going to be a hard one. I’ve lived the last 35 years thinking horrible things about myself and verbalizing them in a funny, snarky way. I’m good at it. They come out of my mouth without thinking. Changing the way I think about myself could prove to be almost impossible with all the ingrained low self esteem I’ve been carrying around since puberty. However, my husband has been given permission to call me out on my bullshit if I slip up. Oh, this should be fun! Does anyone know a good divorce attorney????

3. I will blog on a regular basis.

I am bogged down with school, work, and writing but I have to make time for a regular blog every week. I know all of you have been completely starving for my words of wisdom and funny anecdotes. Who am I to deprive you?

4. I will learn the cello.

This one may be more complicated since I don’t actually own a cello but I thought I’d give it a go. You have to toss in a throw away resolution or there’s too much pressure.

5. I will exercise on a regular basis.

I HATE EXERCISING! HATE! HATE! HATE! I don’t think I can get my point across enough. I don’t like to sweat. I don’t particularly like to exert myself in a physical way. I only really believe you should run if someone’s chasing you. And, I don’t want to spend my entire life in a gym because I would have to work out 2 hours a day, 7 days a week just to make a dent. (Wait, does that count as a disparaging remark? Shit. I don’t even know. I didn’t say it. It was in writing so I feel like it doesn’t count. So there!)

6. I will graduate with my master’s from OSU.

This one’s in the bag. I already filed for graduation for spring semester 2014 so I’m really just including this one to pad my record. LOL!

So that’s it, kiddies. I would include be nice to my fellow man and some shit like that but that’s simply impossible and sets me up for failure.  This is going to be a great year! Happy 2014!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Weird SPAM

I usually get spam messages from french porn sights. Why? I have no idea. And yes, I did put them through google translate to find out what they said because that’s how I roll.

Today, I got this one…

Submitted on 2013/11/19 at 4:47 am

Hello there, I discovered your blog by means of Google at the same time as searching for a comparable matter,
your website got here up, it appears good. I have bookmarked it in my google bookmarks.

Hello there, simply become aware of your weblog via Google, and located that it is
really informative. I am gonna watch out for brussels.
I will be grateful if you happen to proceed this
in future. Numerous other folks will likely be benefited out
of your writing. Cheers!

What the hell does that even mean?
Why are there two messages in one?
How is my site comparable to some beauty site?
Why are they watching out for Brussels?
There are words missing. Important words that complete sentences. Why would you leave those out?
I’m so confused.

Twilight Saga is My Shame

I’ll admit it.

I read all of the Twilight books and I read them more than once. Which I really shouldn’t say out loud let alone in print. My urban fantasy comrades may disown me for such a confession.  

I can NOT, however, be held responsible for my actions. I was young (older than I should have been but that’s not the point) and duped into submission by the promise of lusty vampires and awesome werewolves. If you’ve read my books, you know…that’s kinda my thing. Plus, who doesn’t love a little sappy romance, even if her vampires do sparkle.  

That one I had a hard time getting over. Seriously, even in Seattle, there’s light that would reflect off of sparkly skin. Rainy is not a logical explanation for being able to go out in the day. The explanation doesn’t have to be rooted in science but…come on! I think I would notice some dude, in say a mall, or restaurant, or SCHOOL under the florescents and his skin sparkled. I just would. Anyway, I digress.

I went with my friend to watch the first movie back when it came out. After that, I was done. I didn’t go see another one. I couldn’t take Kristen Stewart’s sappy inexpressive face. Did anyone else notice that she never closes her mouth. Is she not capable of breathing through her nose? Does her jaw not line up? Are her teeth too big for her face? I don’t know. But I couldn’t stop staring at her with the exact same expression throughout the entire movie with her mouth gaping open. I was positive she had to eaten a bug or two during filming. It’s just not possible that she didn’t. This is an example. Actually, I had a hard time finding a picture with her mouth closed. kristen-stewart

So, I went about my life blissfully happy that i’d missed the last four installments of the twilight movie SAGA (and I use that word flippantly). Until, that is, this weekend. I was cleaning and decided I wanted some background noise so I turned on the television. I should have just plugged in my phone to the speakers and listened to a book. That would have been better for my IQ. Anyway, the television turns on and Breaking Dawn Part 1 is on showtime (I think) so I leave it on, knowing I won’t want to pay attention. I needed to clean. My house was disgusting…even to me which is saying something.

I really should have just plugged in my phone.

I ended up watching the whole f’ing thing. Again, staring at her open mouth. I was fixated like a fly in a spider web by the incredible inadequacy of her acting – of everyone’s acting really. Whoever the casting director was, should be banned from Hollywood. Kristen Stewart may be the worst of the bunch. Her acting is like a train wreck, slow, painful, and I’m unable to look away. There’s an actual facebook page dedicated to Kristen Stewart’s horrible acting and her never closing her mouth. Google is a wonderful thing!

So, I get through this entire movie, and then it ends in the middle. Now, I was prepared for this since I read the books and had heard from my friend how angry she was when she saw it. That did not, however, stop me from going to the redbox and renting Part 2. I have no excuse, other than i can’t leave something unfinished. My husband had to take a book away from me once. Even though I hated every word on the page, I wouldn’t stop reading it. “It might get better,” I’d said. I have a problem. Unfortunately, there’s no group for me. I just couldn’t stop in the middle of the story. So, yes. I paid $1.28 to rent Breaking Dawn Part 2. I watched it and it was just as horrible as I thought it would be. I actually kinda wished that they’d made the movie about the Russian Chick from Alaska and the Revolutionary dude instead. I was much more interested in their story than the one I was watching.

I redeem myself by also having rented the Avengers which is an awesome movie. I don’t think its enough though.

Even in the trailer, you can tell it isn’t going to be good. Maybe next weekend will be better… SIGH 

The Best Laid Plans

The Golden Anidae is only 9 days away so here’s a freebie! This little short takes place from Dean’s perspective over  a scene in Midnight Ash. MidnightAsh2_850This consists of strong language and has not been professionally edited. Read at your own risk.

The Best Laid Plans

“There’ll have to be a change of plans,” Pat said as if his perfect little world wasn’t falling apart.

I understood the slight tick at the corner of Pat’s eye.  It was almost imperceptible but I knew Pat, knew what to look for.  Pat wanted to kill something, anything that moved to keep the Blushing Death safe.

“What plan?” the dangerous little mouse squeaked.

Danny glanced over at her with guilt written all over his face.  Stupid pup. She could eat Danny alive.  Her face flushed and the soft grey of her eyes swirled with anger, tugging at my insides.  The room filled with her, the soft floral, feminine scent mixed with the rich spiciness of her anger.  My cock hardened along my thigh as her scent permeated my brain, registering something deep in my synapses that I didn’t understand.  My wolf wanted to leap out to meet her, to run with her.  I fought to hold back my beast and keep control.  I had reacted to her like this from the first and it took everything I had not to rub up against her and mark her as mine.

Dear God, what is she?

She glanced over at me, her grey eyes churning with a secret. With a wicked smile on her face, that glint in her eye was as if she’d imagined something horrible in her mind and got satisfaction from it.  I liked that devious and predatory grin.  My wolf knew it for what it was, dangerous, protective, and mine.

Pat reached out and touched her, sliding his cold, dead hand against her cheek.  Something inside me wanted to rip that hand off. It didn’t make sense. Pat was my friend, had been for decades.

The Blushing Death jumped at his touch and my wolf was glad of it. Quicker than either I or Pat saw, she’d drew her knife.  The Blushing Death would never be a victim. She’d kill everyone and everything before she let that happen and I was glad of it. Humans didn’t live long in our world but then again, she wasn’t merely human.

Pat reached out, slow and cautious, touching her again. She dropped the knife but I could see the reluctance in her gaze.  I wished it was my hand on her cheek, wished I was comforting her.

Damn it!

Janey . . . I missed Janey.  That was all. I was lonely, so lonely.  Dahlia Sabin wasn’t mine.  She was Pat’s. My wolf growled deep in my being, arguing with my brain. She may be Pat’s but she would never be Danny’s.  That much, I knew for certain.  No matter how much that boy wanted it to be true, she would never be Danny’s.

“There’s something else?” Pat asked her.

“Later,” she said, turning to face the rest of the room with her shoulders back and her chin high.  That woman was every bit an Alpha and my cock throbbed at the thought of testing her.

“What’s the change in plan?  What’s the plan period?” she snapped, sliding that long silver blade back into it sheath.  I could read the tension in her body and something in me ached to ease it.  She caressed the blade as she would a lover, taking comfort from the weapon and her own sense of determination.  The Blushing Death was no shrinking violet and my cock twitched, imagining her fingers wrapped around my hard length, squeezing my shaft with the same tenderness.  My beast paced back and forth inside me like the caged animal it was, growling through my mind.  I was stronger than this.  I was stronger than whatever was tugging at my chest and riling up my beast.

“Alex and I had intended to confront the board in the Lebensblut New York offices to come up with a compromise,” Pat said with more words than needed. Too many words could get a guy in trouble. “I’d hoped we could stop this before it started.  Make amends somehow.  Now, I’m afraid we’re too late. We’ll make an appeal but I’m afraid that Dahlia needs to be protected.”

She was stiff, her hands balled into fists at her sides as if she wanted to punch everyone in the room. I couldn’t blame her.  Pat was heavy handed but he knew what he was doing.  She took a deep breath and forced her shoulders to relax.

“Okay.  I’ll need protection,” she agreed.

Before I could hold it in, I laughed.  Out loud. The raucous sound was so foreign, I startled myself.  Pat’s eyes were wider than dinner plates and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head.  She’d surprised everyone.  Including  me.

She and Pat both glared at me but I didn’t care.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed.   It felt good.  Better than I remembered. Who was this woman? My heart raced in my chest and what I could only describe as fear churned in my gut. She’d made me feel things in the last five minutes that I hadn’t felt . . . ever. Not even with Janey.

“Is something amusing, Dean?” Pat hissed.  His jaw was tight and his tone clipped as he glared at me.  I didn’t care.  I enjoyed the light feeling in my chest and even the fear.

“You said she was unpredictable,” I answered through strangled laughter and sunk back into the couch, relaxing.  I liked her more than I knew was good for me.

Not Everyone is Meant to Walk in Darkness

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