Daily Dose of Dementia-- Day Two--Tues. Oct 2, 2012

Like I mentioned, In past subway rides once or twice a month in LA, I hadn't experienced the wonderful daily dose like I had in NYC, now it seems its quite common in the underground world.

After work, way home, on the platform.  I hear some loud grumblings, ok, here's the next one.  I stand looking straight ahead, SWEARING I won't do one single thing to catch his eye or attract him to me.  However, I am wearing a neck to toe black straight dress with 6 inch platform sandals that make me 6'4", with my rodeo arm bands in suede black fringe, and huge concho black and silver belt that is about 6 inches wide.  So okay, I'm not blending in.

A very attractive-faced man actually, except of course for dirty clothes, greasy dirty blonde longish hair, and bad overgrown grey beard, came stumbling toward me mumbling, right up into my face, not randomly, not turning to whomever was nearest, he made his way from the end of the platform all the way to the middle, the entire time fixated on coming at me.  What am I gonna do?  I look at him.  He says "Yeah?  I'll take 'em into the bathroom, beat the shit out of them"

"Who?" I answer calmly.

"The bitches.  Are YOU a bitch?"

"I'm being pleasant enough to you, aren't I?  You know, you look a little bit like Matthew McConaughey."

"Fuck!" and he walks away.  Comes back behind me.

Says to an awkward young teen Latino goth with a weak chin --"Well? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!"

I whirled and said to him "Stop being MEAN to everyone.  You're not going to make any friends that way..."

"Fuck!!!" he says again and walks away.

Again, the looks, the whispers, the snorts, the twitters, people looking at me smirking with laughs....why is this crazy puta bitch even communicating with this maniac?" 

The train comes and we all get on except Matthew-- he either stayed or got in another car.

I hoped selfishly for a "thanks" from the weak chin, but he didn't even look at me the whole ride home.  Oh well.  There was one guy that looked like LL Cool J that glanced at me a couple times, he knew what I did.  That was enough for me.  So craving acknowledgement. Just like the mentals!

I have learned from experience that ignoring is what drives them even crazier, like they don't exist, like no one even notices them or acknowledges they are alive, like they're invisible.  this I think is more torturing to the mentally ill than having an exchange, any exchange. even if its negative....at least they can feel they exist in the world.  Maybe that's why their comments become more and more violent, more upsetting, to TRY to be acknowledged that they DO exist and you see them... sad.-

Daily Dose of Dementia-- Day One--Monday Oct. 1, 2012

Its been a while since I've taken the LA subway-- I'm taking it to work for a week downtown and it has gained in popularity since the last time I rode (maybe more than 2 years ago?) and now has almost as many mentals as the NY subways!  Or at least enough to keep me entertained.  (Is that right word?  "Occupied"? "Engaged"?, I'm not sure) But you know how children or people who have different or more open functioning brains than the rest of us can see some kind of aura around people and run right in a bee line to it?  That's me with homeless mentally ill.  I swear, I don't do ANYTHING to encourage or insight this behavior, I hear some yelling and look in that general direction and that person IMMEDIATELY sees me and heads right for me.  I think to myself, okay, whats this one going to be like.  

As you may know about me,  I worked for 4 years both in Chicago and NYC with the homeless mentally ill in a day program that helped them get jobs through internships in mail rooms, helping them function on their own, get off drugs, get apartments, go shopping, just learn everyday living.  In the "methodology" of these rehabs "Thresholds" in Chicago and "Fountain House" in NYC, (you can look it up), the staff and the "members" of the clubhouse are all equal, we all work together, there is no "Patient vs. therapist" type of mentality-- which made it all the more f'd up day to day.  the "clubhouse" was what they called the day center.  I wrote proposals to rich corporations, individuals, and trusts, for funding, I was not a social worker, but I still was exposed to daily visits from the members and their particular bents.  Some were so engaging and affable that I could not wait to see them each day (say this in a Tiny Tim accent), "Oh, Miss Marni, will you be attending the Harvest Moon Ball this evening?"  (there was no harvest moon ball) but I replied eagerly "Yes, I've picked out my dress and  shoes and its going to be wonderful!"  He replied "Well, if your dance card isn't filled, I would love to dance with you this evening...." I said "That would be wonderful." and he wandered out and never remembered the conversation even happened.  In fact that same conversation would happen several times a month.

Some were so abused and tortured and brain damaged that it physically hurt me to see them.  (one young man's mother smashed half of his head in with a frying pan and threw him down the garbage shoot when he was young).  He still had half of his skull missing, like a half moon head,  and I suppose all of his sanity was gone with it.  He was a violent, angry personality.  Who could fault him.  

My job was to write proposals for funding.  I wrote specialty proposals for the deaf homeless mentally ill, the blind homeless mentally ill, the deaf AND blind mentally ill, the handicapped mentally ill-- can you imagine? There was a huge release of mentally ill patients into the gen pop in the mid 90's because of lack of funding that forced all these poor people into the streets with no where to go......

ANYWAY---

That is the back story as to why I think these current LA subway mentals gravitate toward me like some bright orange sun aura is radiating from me that says "I know you, I know whats wrong with you, it doesn't scare me, I will talk to you with no fear" or something like that.

Monday, Oct. 1st.

So a large pendulous breasted black woman on the train kept writing furiously on a paper on a clipboard and holding it up, showing it to everyone, I thought she was showing it to the crowds of people.  I said calmly and with interest "What are you doing?"  She said "I'm showing this to all the cameras so they can see how I'm being treated and abused, and that I was thrown off the train" etc.. etc.. (lunatic ravings of a paranoid dis-associative personality.)  I said well, I am pretty sure the cameras cannot pick up your writing if its that small, because I can hardly see it and I'm sitting right in front of you. 

"Oh YEAH?" she says combatively.

"yes".

So she goes back to writing again and this time comes back with huge printing "People say they cant read my writing so I'm making it bigger so all the cameras can pick it up too".

"thank you for the tip" she says to me

"No problem" I say without a hint of sarcasm or mocking.

People look at me like I'm just as crazy as she is.  Hey, just cause you're crazy and paranoid doesn't mean someones not following you!!!!  The mentals at Fountain House in NYC spoke some very insightful truths among the gibberish of word salads they spat out every day to me.

She continued until her stop and got off.

Baffling encounters log #563

Stardate Sunday Sept. 23, 2010
Baffling encounters log #563
Indian man Mahinda, to me at car wash I frequent: You good customer, you want free soda?
I look and the fountain only has Pepsi: "No, thank you I only like Diet Coke"
Mahinda: You chinese?
Me: No.......
Mahinda: Okay! Have a NICE day.

Once in 50 or so flights you sit next to.......

A person who is fascinating to talk to, not a "so nervous they can't shut up" yapper that you'd like to punch in the head...

I'm thinking back on it now, after my flight, having a PB and J with Belgian Ale at Denver Airport, very pleasant, thank you, my darling sister Kelsey for making a sammie for me at 5:30 in the morning, and to my bizarrely 'able to do' brother-in-law Paul for very early or extremely late pickups and drop offs!  Great visit with the family in Wisconsin. (Lyn, Mo, it was just a short stopover that's why you did not hear from me.... sorry!)

So I sat in the first row because I was tall they were kind enough to put me in a bulkhead seat and I happened to be next to a 6'7", 74 yr old dude in a military baseball cap with militia pins all over.....  In waiting to board, I overheard him vaguely complaining about the government this or that so I quickly reached for my headphones when I saw him sit down next to me, but they were up in my purse since i had no seat in front of me, damn!  stuck!  as he asks "so....is Denver home for you?" and I go oh god one of these...why me why me!...... but like I said, once in a blue moon you get a fascinating character that you have uncanny things in common with despite age and gender differences.... and 2 hours flew by like 10 minutes.   Many times its when you forgot or cant get your headphones quickly enough.....hmmmm....

So as we chat, this guy is a world competing skeet shooter member of the http://www.fitasc.com/  which translates to something like "Federation of Clay target shooting presented as game" which is extremely difficult skeet shooting (clay pigeons are shot from anywhere 360 degrees around them) and the competitions take him around the world, and he and his friend were returning from a Wisconsin competition to his home in Denver. 

He rode horses in rodeos and had a working ranch with Mexican vaquero cowboys for years, he's ex-special forces and volunteers with current vets with PTSD (who doesn't have PTSD after a war?) using equine therapy and teaching them (for example) to load and shoot a shotgun with one arm (if the other was blown off in the war-- taught me how to do it right there in the seat).....has two dogs, single bachelor for many years, has traveled extensively in China and southeast Asia, is obsessed with tracing HIS family history like my father is, similar age, (his sister is doing it but he is ecstatic about what she is finding out about his relatives in Utah, Colorado, the wild west, etc.....)  I say oh does she use something like Ancestry.com?  YES!!!! EXACTLY!!!  (he's old he doesn't know how this is common knowledge....)

I would say "so do you use about quail size shot for the competitions?" (Due to a recent home protection lesson from my father when he left us in charge of the farm and reviewed all our guns and ammo with me, and previous skeet shooting in college) "YES!!!!"and he replies most shotgun shells are loaded with 1.4 oz of shot but in competition we are required to use only one ounce, and I reply "So lets see, you would have the same shot radius but fewer balls in that area to hit the target?" "YES!!!!"and I return "I guess you use double barrel break action for the shotguns?" "YES!!!!"  "Is it over under or side by side?" and all these other horse comments I dropped about vaqueros and the horse types like I comment when he went to south america for some competition rodeo--oh did they ride Fresians and Andalusians and the like?" and his jaw was dropped most of the time at either my comments or what I was doing (same thing rodeo and vaqueros and volunteering to rehab horses and traveling to Asia and making jewelry) -- I love to know a tiny bit about a LOT of things....I can small talk with anyone anywhere and find something to say. and then my jaw was dropped at the next thing we had in common etc. and he said he used to make jewelry in the late 60's early 70's of silver and turquoise to sell to tourists at the gem show in Tucson when he had hair down to his butt after Vietnam, and asks "Do you ever go to the Tucson Gem Show?  and I say every year! it was quite amazing.  I was careful not to ask about the trauma of war he experienced.... he said it took about 10 years for him to recover...and that so many of his compadres were still in it, could never heal.... stories about POW's who were never told the war was over and were kept up to 10 years after the war, but all rescued eventually... how completely sickening and unimaginable to think about.

He is very into all hunting sports and mentioned that bow and arrow shooting by young women has blown up since the event of the Hunger Games books and movies, I thought that was pretty wild... he says oh yes, there are all kinds of young women winning bow/arrow competitions now, a whole new group from 13-17, beating out all the old school old timers (a la Ted Nugent I imagined in my head)  In fact he mentioned in every sport we talked about that there is some 14 year old girl prodigy who is beating everyone-- in 100 mile horseback endurance races up and down mountain ranges, shooting competitions, trap/skeet, his International competitions (some tough as nails 13 yr old Russian girl that cracks the shotgun closed so hard everyone hears and says "Oh that must be Svetlana"), bow/arrow target shooting,  horseback shooting where the girl uses two pistols-- does not even hold the reins or horn, just runs at full lope/gallop shooting walnut shells at balloon targets and winning competitions over all the men....

The great part was he was SO impressed and proud and in awe of these young women, kind of the opposite of what you might expect from a 70-something old school cowboy......

We never even exchanged names, and when the flight deplaned we simply shook hands and said it was wonderful talking with you, which it really was... and we were gone.

Anyway, it might not be as interesting to some as it was to me, but I wanted to write it down so I won't forget it.  Very special and eerily similar souls sitting together by chance and completely in tune with each other with same view of life, life experiences, spirituality, animals, human behavior, etc despite years of age separation and gender and location......what a wonderful experience.

So, What happened in YOUR life today that was good?  ( I read this in a magazine about talking to whining complainers who have it all and not one reason to be complaining.  Redirect them to the sunny side of the street....)

Bravo to 13 and 14 year old girls who have the balls to do all the major ball busting stuff he told me about, and here's to them as our next generation that will be taking care of us when WE are seniors.....

The moral is...don't sit in the corner and complain.  The world is out there happening no matter how old or young you are and you might as well join in!  (Now I'm hearing Fred play Robin's theme song when she goes off on her personal opinions on the show... ha ha ha)

Please sir, may I have some more... Muay Thai

 

The gym is approximately 600 feet from my apartment....



Last night I walked the dogs down to Magnolia in an effort to fake out this creepy guy who waits outside our apartment building to follow each of the women who have dogs.  Once he grabbed my neighbor June's dog by the back legs like in some sexual gesture.  He looks like a big baby man with big pot belly and fat lips and dumb as a bag of rocks look on his face (some kind of slow adult) as he stands there staring at both me and the dogs,  I get a sudden surge of power and whirl and wildly gesticulate to him (because I remember men who follow women are generally cowards)  "You are a very strange person and I don't want you anywhere near me or my dogs!  I suggest you TURN AROUND (making a big finger swirl) and HEAD ON BACK HOME (and point straight back to the end of the street where he lives) and if you continue to follow us I will call the police" He just looks at me with a blank face and empty mind.

 

I know his pattern of walking straight down Cartwright to Magnolia and back so I purposely walk that way to see if he will follow me. I keep looking back. As soon as I get far enough away so he cant really tell what I'm doing, and he still has not moved from the point I yelled at him, I fake pull a cell phone out of my bag and make fake gestures as to what street I'm on, point to the guy, nod my head, act like I'm reporting a crime.  I don't know what came over me but I really acted it out!  I was the Meryl Streep of Cahuenga Street.  When I turned around again, he was gone.

 

Fast forward half a block-- I hear some REALLY LOUD gangsta hip hop and club music blasting from an open doorway with a Thai gold elegant sculpted dragon framed door kind of off the side of a building along the alley.  I venture over to peek in and see what I now found out is people practicing Muay Thai, which is basically offensive and defensive street fighting--  one of the most hardcore straight out Thai street fighting. No "Karah-Tay", no"Jiu Jitsu" or sophisticated martial arts, just beating people up  to cool music. My eyes are saucers "I want to do THAT!!!"  I ask a passing person by the door, do you have a card? and he hands me one very kindly with the hands pressed in Thai greeting "Sawat Dee Kah" and a bow and I thankfully know the tiniest bit of Thai culture to return the hands pressed greeting using the male form of thank you.

 

 

 

 

The card says something like "fight to win, fight to fit, fight to defend"  I saw all these guys kicking, elbowing, kneeing, elbowing, upper cutting, straight push kicking, side kicking the other guy with big pads, and my mind just says "I have to do this"

 

  The next morning (today) I could not wait to call them to ask how much it would cost to take a test class to see if I liked it.  The trainer David--(on the far right in the pic below)

 says "First class is free, here is the open class schedule, come by as soon as you can we'd love to have you try it and see if you want to continue!"



David far right was my instructor

I showed up for the 2pm open class, it was 4 pretty regular expert guys on a random Thursday, and me.  David says I'm going to put you on some separate beginner basic moves, but if you want to try to keep up with what we're doing, go ahead and join us!  Not condescending, not supercilious, no ego, I felt immediately like part of the family.  The guys introduced themselves with the Thai pressed hands  and names, and I returned.  There was no sexual weirdness, there was nothing but equality that I felt.  David picked a very heavy big guy to be my practice/sparring partner, and he held all the pads and cued me "left knee, straight jab, downward elbow, upper cut left, upper right, left kick, okay now four knees in a row, etc.  He coaches me on breathing saying I will get much less tired if I breath  in and out and make a sound "SCHHHHHH!!!" for each punch or kick. and he was right.  He says "so are you sure you never trained before?  You're doing great some real hard hits". cause I punched and kicked REALLY HARD (personal energy reasons)  what a compliment.

We did 3 minutes constant "on" and 1 minute rest in between.  David the instructor says okay Marni one more this is what you're going to do and demonstrates, and I do 3 minutes of it.  I feel like oh, this is the last one, thank god.  That thinking went on for 45 minutes more.  These guys who come three days a week say "oh my god I'm exhausted" and I''m like what?  this is my first class and I have to keep up with you!!!???  The only thing that saved me was that I do daily horse riding exercising like lunges, push ups, and pliets and lifting my leg straight ahead of me parallel to the ground and back, otherwise I would have died with the kicks.  I had to sit out two of the 3 minutes of total 75 minutes, but I figure that's pretty good for first time.  There is no a/c-- so its about 88-90, I guess to mimic Thai conditions? cause that's what it felt like.

When David saw that I was really right on the edge, he said Marni go sit outside for this round, get some air, and come back in.  Another guy who was not following our training was resting out there and said so what do you think? I said I think I friggin love it, its so "street" and even after one lesson I feel more confident to stand up in a fight, should one come up.  I told him, "I ride and rehab horses for the soul calm healing therapy, and I guess this is the other side"  He said simply, "Well, the warrior must ride to the fight, right?"  Yeah!

So at the end of the 75 minutes I though it was over, and a girl had wandered in and asked how could she start training if she didn't know anything, she was very nervous (and flabby) and was there a certain class for beginners?  and David calls out and said "look at this girl Marni," Marni how do you feel being your first time?" I said "I LOVE it and I'm coming back"..... she said ok.--they take all levels and train even world champion Thai fighters... its a great place.

So we had done these 3 on one off for one hour, and now he says okay 30 push ups, 50 crunches, and do the group lunge.  The 3 guys grab me and form a circle all holding each others shoulders, gross and sweaty, and count 1,2,3-10, switch front foot all facing inward, 1,2, 3 -90, all the way to 100 lunges at thee end of all this f'ing killer workout.

I love that its so street and hardcore--you can use it to compete in official fights, or just fend off someone who tries to attack you.  I'm hooked and I can't recommend highly enough.....
but I'm pretty sure even with my preparatory horse exercises I will not be able to move tomorrow.

I went to Happy Hour with my gals from BMB and Miti Takano from Brazil/Taiwan/Portugal says "oh Marni, that is the most hard core, I'm surprised you would try that!" she knows a lot more about these international things than many.

Oh p.s.-- I lost three press on gold toenails during the session, whomever finds them will be so grossed out, ha ha.

Muay Marni

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GcVillTmbNg





 

Hotel staff gossip--"Evil spirit lives in Room 1110"

I'm stuck working in my room all day because its the Qing Ming (Tomb Sweeping) Holiday in China and everything is closed so families can visit their ancestors graves to tidy them up, leave willow branches, and burn paper clothes and shoes (even paper money and cel phones) to send them to their dead relatives in the afterlife.  They believe they need these things there.

So last night I ate this beef blood and quail egg soup from a street cart in Dongguan...

congealed beef blood

quail eggs?  I don't know, they were small?

choose your mushrooms, sprouts and tofu

 

they cook it all in their communal super hot pot so I know it kills
anything bad--delicious!!!

so inevitably I wake up today with my usual fish sacks under my eyes. (I'm allergic to fish and most things in Asia have some trace of fish sauce in them, so its unavoidable esp with a pot that they cook everything in.)

I look around the room for something to try to help get rid of them--oh yeah!  caffeine in coffee grounds shrinks swelling.  I plaster it under my eyes and keep working. 

Several hours later ding dong hotel staff ask if I need any laundry cleaned.  I opened the door, forgetting about my face.  "No thank you," I replied kindly.  The poor little girl mumbled something and hurried away as fast as she could go.  

Hmm.  Strange.  Then I caught a glance in the hall mirror as I shut the door.....

terrifying spectre with long black nails!

I'm pretty sure no staff will return to my room during my stay........

The Ultimate in Recycling

Is it wrong if I barfed up two packages of Buddig Turkey

and then served it to my dogs?

(makes you wonder what's in that "chopped, processed meat product" if

my pure green juice stomach would not accept it)

Buddig Barf

Beneful Barf Bonus



A whole lot of work but I cry at their glorious beauty

As soon as I possibly could, upon returning to my wonderful LA, I searched on the internet for some place to get around horses quickly.  I began my volunteer stint at Saffyre Horse Sanctuary in Lakeview Terrace that day.

 http: //www.saffyresanctuary.org/

The wonderful woman Esta who devotes her life to saving these seemingly unsaveable beasts (some are stallions and mares only used for breeding, never had a human relationship, never ridden in some cases, bony skeletons, shy and terrified) told me "go ahead and take them out to the round pen for longing, groom them, treat them as your own, do as much ground time as you like anytime!"

So I took a shine to a purebred Arabian stallion named Baskey -- good looking, spirited, I groomed him in his pen, he seemed very pleasant. But lets note-- I have NEVER handled a stallion before (unsnipped), only geldings, and even those males can be a world of trouble.

So feeling confident, but still cautious, I asked the other gal Laura to help me walk him to the round pen-- she had a line on one side and me on the other.  2 minutes into the walk, he went batshit crazy, rearing kicking lashing around we had NO control over him and were just barely were able to stay in the safe zones to not be kicked dead.  All the people around at the stables were screaming at us and very upset, caused quite a ruckus.  I see that unsnipped male horses are EXACTLY as despised as un-neutered dogs at the dog park.  everyone looks down on them (including me) and thinks the owner is terribly uninformed, irresponsible or stupid.  At this place they wont even allow them to be stabled in the gen-pop.  they have to be way out on the outskirts facing the mountains.

We did however get him into the pen and were still alive.  This is how he ran and thrashed for nearly AN  HOUR without stopping out in the round.  Do you see this demon!?

Baskey spins and kicks

Baskey thrashes

Baskey shreds

I called my sensei Jack in Oregon to tell him the story.  He said you cant fix a 20 year old stallion that acts like that.  he will kill someone.  In fact Jack was pretty angry at me for taking him out without knowing anything.  He said save your sanctuary money for something that can be rehabbed, grind this one up and send him to Mexico.

I told Esta I just couldn't work with him anymore I did not have the skills or insurance to do so.  She said hold on, let me bring you up to show you how to work with MY pure arabian stallions and then you decide.

So Thursday we drove wayyy out to Iron Canyon (out the 14 near Soledad Canyon) to her place.  She had us groom, longe, and work with her three-- the father who is famous
and featured in books and stock photography "Caleyndar" and his two sons.

They have to be treated with a very bad ass attitude, even being raised since birth.  You must keep them in their place or they will trample all over you or just say F you.

But I never had a more glorious day than being out in the sunny mountains, watching and working with these PERFECT specimens --unsnipped! and just beautiful.

After a big brush session I get a kiss

Simply telling Mini-C what to do with my mind
(walk, trot, canter)

longing with no pen, just a rope

can you imagine the glory of this postcard image?
he was just having fun because his brother was running
in circles near him-- its definitely not okay for them to rear,
but I couldn't help loving it

After my Mini-C session I get a neck kiss/hug!

This is long but stay with me.  After this session we went right back to the sanctuary to work with Baskey again.  This time I groomed him for what seemed forever, he was being lovely, mostly.  but he had a stud chain on his chin.  that helped.

Esta walked him out and said see this is how it should be, calm, no attitude, easy.  Right then he went mental ballistic AGAIN!!  I was so glad it was not just me.  got him to the pen and after another hour of racing thrashing kicking shredding, he came walking up to Esta and held a glorious pose for me.  So proud, so smart.  Who knows what horrors he has had to put up with.  But I will commit to helping him, not eat him for hamburger.

Baskey submits reluctantly after running crazy for
at least 45 minutes straight, us just standing there

Baskey so obviously posing for me showing me
how handsome he is

FOLLOW UP MAY 2013:
Baskey is 100% improved today.  He is rideable and a wonderful smart guy.  He is now a gelding and a real charmer...see link below!

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=597294707000413&set=a.210608362335718.56495.131586753571213&type=1&theater

Julie's Got Great Pillows

                                                      http://funhouse54.com/

I admire her aesthetic so much!  so unique.

Travelogue Day 1

Today my travelogue begins covering the move from Grants Pass OR back to LA.  its starting out swimmingly so far.  I wont ask anyone for help so I took a taxi to pickup the uhaul truck.  when i got there ($15 cab), I discovered I did not have my wallet.  I had to have the taxi drive me back to my house. ($15) and on the ride I chattted it up with "wayne" my driver, a 60 something pot belly w indian feather silver earring.  Told him about the move, work, can't sustain up here, etc. 

He replies "Well, I hope I don't offend you but you're a nice looking friendly girl, you could always work as a...............(I couldnt imagine what would come out) .........waitress."

There's a life!!!  working at Applebees  or La Casita Mexican as a waitress, waiting on all the people I know from work because its a tiny town and everyone goes there.  I can't imagine a more horrible fate.

"uh, yeah well thats always an option isn't it."

We get to my house and I realize I left my keys inside and button locked the door on my way out.  This is great.  I hoped and prayed that my back gate was open, it was and I had a hide a key in the back yard. 

Got to the truck place, paid $60 w tip for a $15 ride. 

Drove home, tried to back in the truck to my garage door,  and ran over my mailbox.

Oh, and my movers never showed up, never called.  Couldnt get hold of them no answer.  An excellent start to the week.