"If you want to milk plows or cow fields"

So far, in the course of my adventures in Oz, I've acted against someone who's in Neighbours and auditioned against someone who was in Summer Heights High, not to mention being the same audience as Geoffrey "I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request" Rush. But now, I think, I have reached a whole new height of star-interaction.
For, you see, yesterday, Tuesday the 9th April 2013, at 2.15pm, on a sunny afternoon in Melbourne, I made a short film with none other than motherfucking Sportacus from Lazytown.

As badass as scarface?

Not only that- I had actual lines (the humorous spoonerism that resulted from such makes the titles of this post) in a film with Sportacus. I was even DIRECTED by Sportacus. He told me he liked my line reading.
Swoon.


Daniel, you're not the only one who's acting career has taken a major leap forward in the past two weeks. 

La voce to me

Yesterday, I went about the course of collecting actual Linguistic data (I know, I know living red letter). I ventured into the suburbs of Central Melbourne with a flotilla of my fellow Linguistadors and recorded a 22-month-old girl named Molly talking at us.
It was actually a lot of fun: Molly showed us her DVDs and was surprisingly film literate for a toddler, having seen Finding Nemo, Alice in Wonderland and The Little Mermaid, which is more than Esmond- although she insisted Ursula the sea witch was nice and liked Ariel. Not an interpretation I'd encountered before.

Although...

She also argued with her mother over whether a pink koala toy was a pig or a marsupial and won with the astounding display of reasoning 'koalas aren't pink', which none of us could refute (although Koala joeys are hairless.) She also brought a little of that lovely child reasoning when, upon being informed that a dentist was a 'doctor who looks at your teeth', she inquired, with some alarm, 'why?!'
All in all, not a bad way to collect data for one's subject; in fact, Barbara told us about a man who gave his children special backpacks which would record his young children speaking...and caught his wife carrying on with, as Barbara put it, 'Mr. Neighbor'.
So, practical, too.

In other news, I went to two parties this weekend, and so am just the belle of the ball, aren't I? One was a get together with the guys from B.E.S.T., who were my 24 hour play group (I meant to blog about that...oops), where we watched a bunch of movie musicals and realised just how rapey Grease is. Sadly, I had to go to bed before Les Mis was put on, otherwise I very well may have brought Gavroche back to life, nine years (what the hell?) after his untimely death.
T'other was an Amadeus get-to-know-the-cast affair, where two very promising candidates for quotes of the year were delivered. One came from Henry Shaw, director extraordinaire, and was in the manner of a film trailer voice-over; t'other came from Dave, who plays Salieri, and was a brand new species of Pokemon; both can be found on the Quotes page.

And, finally, according to Victoria Andrew, I was in tune for an entire song last Wednesday. This is a personal record.

Chasin' Jason

So, Jason has left. This is saddening- but we must soldier on. We will reforge the shattered pieces into a glorious new jigsaw puzzle, one free of Jason and his incessant boasting of how much he has done with his life.

Right after two days of moping in bed.

'But, Rory!' You cry, spittle flying and a crazed look in your eye (my god, you do get passionate about these blog posts, don't you?), 'I wanna hear about Australian Christmas!' At this point, you stamp your feet and throw all your toys out of the cot because I haven't housebroken you properly. Well, fine, metaphorical baby readers, here's how christmas went down: on christmas eve, Jason and I attended a double bill of Shop Around the Corner and It's a Wonderful Life; we had to leave the second slightly early and so in my mind that film now ends with him committing suicide- I don't know why everyone calls it uplifting.

Pictures from the Astor, where we viewed this depressionfest.

Jason and I then returned home and drunkenly chatted with loved ones on the internet, and showed each other pictures of how we used to look (so much hair...*shudder*).
The next morning, Shane, Jason, me and some douche I've never met before had a barbecue for breakfast.

Not pictured: croissants in the conservatory.

There were sausages, sauce and bread. We'd hunted the bread ourselves, because we're MEN. During this time we tried to name all fifty states of the US because the brain can atrophy like any other muscle.

All that's left of the dropbears that jumped us during the bread hunt.

Then, the douche left, stung by his inability to remember New Hampshire, and the three real men sat down to smoke and ruminate. Not cigarettes, little one, my heavens no, but a hukkah pipe. It was really rather relaxing.

Jason's christmas hukkah.

After this, we watched some christmas movies, including Charlie Brown and, perhaps more bizarrely, Batman the Animated series, then Jason and I went for a walk, wherein we encountered a brown snake. Let me dictate for you how it went down:

JASON: (Thick Gloucestershire accent that is somehow at once both homely and grating) Oi'm not looking where I'm going, so oi'm no!

(The brown snake appears. Jason makes to step on it.)

ME: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


(I dive between Jason and the snake, and, using my incredible kung fu skills, vanquish the fucker (the snake that is, not Jason))

JASON: Oi've never seen a snake trounced so thouroughly before! Neato!

Starring Rik Hart as the serpent.

Truly, I am both the st Patrick and the shakespeare of our time.

On Boxing Day, I saw the Hobbit, and honestly I was disappointed: they've turned what is an enjoyable fantasy heist movie into a bloated diatribe on what 'home' means. There's a lot to be enjoyed, but also a lot that could be cut.

Gandalf the grumpy.

Interestingly, I saw Les Mis and I would have much preferred for that to have been split into multiple films: or, even better, presented like an old film with an interval in between two two hour parts. So, essentially, a stage play on screen. Hmmm...

Then, on the 27th, I stayed up all night with Jason, wishing him farewell and then spent the next two days sleeping it off. Go me. I really will miss the blighter, and am now holding auditions for his replacement, but things aren't looking too swell on that front: I may have to wait til term begins anew. Which is in february. Alack.

P.S. I realise I still owe a Blank slate post and a 'the other stuff I did when I didn't post for ages' post, but hold your horses. They're coming.


Probably.
P.P.S. As of today, this trip is the longest I've ever spent away from home.

Rememer, remember, in Oz there's no fifth of November

So, it turns out I won 'best dressed' at the hallowe'en party: I honestly kinda feel it should've gone to Jess, but I get a cinema ticket out of it, so I won't complain.

And I did look bloody irresistible.

In other news, it was Shane's birthday on saturday, and an almight chekhov's gun was employed; in O-week, we did a scavenger hunt, the purpose of which was to collect the ingredients necessary to make gloop. This included, flour, eggs and food dye. Now, since no one felt like getting glooped, we were allowed to just take the ingredients for ourselves. I got a bag of flour (still untouched) and three bottle of food dye. Fast forward four months (ye gods, four months?!) and Manthy wants to pull a trick on Shane by making him eat mayonnaise disguised as chocolate sauce (I know, I know- Loki would blush with jealousy), but there is a problem- it still looks like mayonnaise. Then I remember that I have four month old food dye just sitting on my shelf. And lo, Shane did eat of the mayo, and it was funny as.

You dare laugh at my pain?

To celebrate cue ball's date of birth we all went out to a casino, and I pulled a Jason in that I'd never been to a casino before- well, I put five dollars in a slot machine (honestly, I don't see the appeal- it's not even fun), and ten dollars on a roulette table and I lost all of it, and let's hope that's my history with gambling done. Although, I did go to the dog races in Dublin once. Maybe I'm just incurable.

The mall near my work is all decorated up for christmas, and I know I've pointed this out before, but it's stupid that there are aussie christmas decorations based on snow and icicles. Oh well, this will be my first christmas alone, and at least part of it will feel like home.

In other news, there have been several mentions of Oz on Once Upon a Time, and every time it happens, I squee a little inside. Plus, the most glorious thing happened on QI a couple of weeks ago (I only found this out yesterday):
http://youtu.be/22q7MViXrq4?t=27m9s
Did Stephen Fry just mention where I live by name? As in, not just Melbourne, but YARRA? Why, yes, yes he did. Be jealous, ya tools.

When God closes a door

I had a room inspection yesterday, and I passed with flying colours! It only took three years! I'll admit that I had to do a bit of a spruce-up afore the landlord came a-knockin', but there's no law against that (although Mark seemed to be under the impression that I keep my room that way all the time. I decided not to disillusion him. However, when I was tidying up I decided to do a bit of decorating, since I had some light weight mementos and more blu-tac than I knew what to do with.

Opportunity came a-knockin' and got its hand stuck on the blu-tac.

So I bedazzled my door with memories. It might not look too impressive in the photo, but all three people who've been in my room since I did this have commented on how cool it looks. And I really like the effect; every time I enter or leave my room, I'm reminded of all the cool stuff I've done since I came here (I'll admit, there are a lot of penguin pictures); I've got my tickets of admission to the opera, the sea life centre, Looper and something funny happened on the way to the forum on there. I've also got some maps of Melbourne, the coles Gift card I won at the open mic night and a drawing of me that Milly did during my first week here. 

In other news, I went to see Frankenweenie with Adrien and it's...fine. The animation is gorgeous and the story is fun, but the script is lacking. Alack.

Pretty little picture

This weekend I bought some pink headphones: I needed headphones and the pink ones were the cheapest. The shop hand tried to play on my insecurities and said 'yeah, they're cheaper, but they're pink', and when I took them to the counter, he raised his eyebrows and said 'oh, you've gone for the pink ones' and I replied, no joke, 'yes, I'm secure enough in myself'. So, I walked out, having saved seven dollars, and feeling very good about myself. I relate this story only to share my moment of glory and explain to those of you who skype me know that I haven't suddenly admitted to a newfound love of pink.

In other news, Geoffrey Rush was fantastic. The show was amazingly funny, and Jason, Adrian and I have a whole gamut of new inside jokes; it was actually very sweet, because this was lil' Jason's first trip to the theatre and he was obviously enraptured.

They don't really mean what they're saying! What is this magic?!

 

The music was delightful, the cast were exceptionally strong (apart from Geoffrey Rush, there was a guy playing the slave Hysterium who was bloody hilarious). So, money and time well spent.Yay!

And finally, I may have made a friend at work, which is nice: she's from Dublin, she's a cinephile, she's heard of the bechdel test. We went to see 'Savages' together because we'd both turned up to a shift that wasn't on, and were the only ones in the cinema, and spent the screening sporadically laughing at the ridiculousness of that. It was very fun. Her name's Queeva and I'm making her a tag now, because it worked out so swimmingly with George.

They took all the condors and put em in a condor museum

My word, I haven't updated you in a long time; I'm sure you're all clamouring to find out what I've been doing during spring break (woo! Spring break!). Don't worry, I have a good excuse for this catastrophic lack of updates. I was building a house.

Travis, eat your heart out.

As you can see, construction was complex, arduous and colourful. But my god, it was worth it. Jason just built some stupid robot of which no photographic evidence exists whatsoever- it was sadly destroyed when my house collapsed. Because I pelted it with bricks until it fell apart. Good times.

These pictures were taken at the Melbourne Museum, which was a mix of nearly all the museums I've ever visited, with the exception of the museum of torture: it had art, it had skeletons, it had condors (more condors than necessary, if you ask me); there was even a space for nap time!
It was divided into two floors- on the bottom floor, there were all the animals (it was the first museum I've seen which contained live animals- it had ants, flies and (shudder) redback spiders)- this was where we spent the majority of our time, especially in a Noah's ark type room with literally hundreds of specimens judging you from their plinths (pictures below). The second was split between an exhibition on the mind, themed like a labyrinth, with chambers that simulated dreams and pods where people ranted at you about how they're special, which I found interesting but have no pictures of, because my battery ran out, and one on puberty which Jason didn't let me see because he wanted to visit the giftshop- now I'll never know what happened to Peter, Jane and their rapidly changing bodies.

It really was a lot of fun- I got to see whales

It was skinless when I found it. Honest.

and dinosaurs

and bugs

and a tonne of taxidermied critters

Look, birds! Nowhere else I can see them, nosiree. 

It really was a lot of fun, and I didn't even see it all. I got in for free too, which was the icing on the cake.

I also got to see The Dark Knight Rises in IMAX, which I guess was the marzipan figurine on the cake. It's awesome in IMAX, but it does make some glaring continuity errors more noticeable, namely who's driving the truck. But well worth the money to see it again, only this time seven storeys high. The Melbourne Museum actually has the world's 3rd largest screen- the second largest is in Sydney, where I'm going next week (squee!), but I probably won't check it out. Alack.

Our feature presentation

I come to you once more from the Rowden White, where, I've discovered, there are little signs on the desks reading 'please do not study'. I think I'm going to like it here.
Just checking in to inform you that last night I saw 'The Dark Knight Rises'; an awesome film, to be sure, but the experience around going was what I mainly wanted to talk about (however, I want to be the first to point out how much Bane sounds like Rik- 'Impossible!'). For one thing, we drove there; nearly all my antipodean peers can drive, it would seem, as their system of learning is much less strict than ours, from what I understand. I was trying to remember the last time I was in a car not driven by my parents, and I honestly drew a blank until I remembered back to the night after my Spanish exam, when the entire class went for tapas and we all drove back together, somewhat tipsy (I'm sure the driver wasn't...yeah, almost definitely sure). That was two years ago. I feel I was due a road trip with my fellows.
Also, I don't know if it's Australian cinema culture in general or just the particular screening I was in, but my word would Kermode have been appalled. Everyone was talking. About what was happening right there, in front of them, two seconds after it happened. I won't reveal the twist at the end of the film, suffice to say that mere moments after it happened, the person to my right predicted it for his mystified girlfriend. Well done you. Not. Plus, nearly everyone, including, I am ashamed to inform you, the very Australians I had travelled there with, had their phones out. One of my fellows' phones went off during the feature, revealing his ringtone to be theremin music, much to the delight of everyone, excepting myself. Guys, we've paid $11 for the privilege of watching this film- maybe we should do that instead of texting one another, yeah? Alack.
There is one other aspect of this experience I feel I should relate to you- after we all purchased our tickets, individually so as to avoid people having to barter about what was owed and to whom, I was found to be seated a row in front of all my fellows, entirely on my own. Well, I took my assigned seat as this seems to be the only aspect of the cinephile's code that it's not kosher to break in Oz, and waited and waited for others to arrive, so I would feel like less of a loser. Well, arrive they finally did; the couple who would squeal spoilers at one another once they'd already passed. I yelled a sarcastic 'Friends!' when they sat down next to me, turning to my fellows as I did.
At which point, the man switched places with his filly, so as not to be next to me.
Charming.

Postera Crescam Laude

I have given into temptation and bought one extra-large, navy blue hoody with the university of Melbourne logo proudly brandished across it. The pricetag was kinda scary- $100!- but my mother said she’d pay for me to get one, so I’m trying to see past that. I am painfully aware that in two years I will most likely purchase an Edinburgh equivalent and thus my collection will be complete.

Hoody aside- it’s too warm to wear it- I am very sorry for not having updated y’all (I know for a fact that both Spanish Daniel and my parents are reading this, and so it’s ‘y’all’ and not ‘you both’) since Saturday, but in my defence, I have new friends now and y’all seem kinda dull by comparison.

Yes, O-week, the exchange students’ freshers week, has begun and has bought with it the chance to talk to people without seeming precocious. So far, I’ve met Will, who I’m seeing as the Universe’s way of balancing out Esmond’s infidelity as he’s from McGill, Jason, a quiet home-schooled New Jersey-ite, Daryll, a Korean illustrator and fellow nerd, Clara, a contemplative Spanish biologist and Bastian, who’s Dutch and that’s all I really know about him. In terms of actual ozzies, there are Logan and Aspen- who I feel have to be mentioned together, so inseparable are they- Victoria, Elle and Ben. I don’t really know any of these people tremendously well, but they are at least people who I can count amongst my acquaintance and speak to of an evening. It seems the place to go in the evenings is the second floor rec room, there to be found are assorted nerdly activities like playing playstation 3, monopoly, minecraft, magic: the gathering or trying to solve the tetris cube.  It’s noisy but friendly, and I’m working up the courage to step in there on my own one of these days.

As to the events themselves, they’re rather self-conscious, but can be quite fun. There was a poorly-thought through scavenger hunt which wended too far from the building and that no one really completed follow by a barbeque which everyone without fail completed. There was the casino royale night, which boiled down to one in ten people in suits, playing poker, dissolving quite early but leading into another night in the second floor rec room. Then last night there was ‘christmas in July’, which frankly was just an industrially cooked roast dinner in the cafeteria with some Christmas decorations put up. I’d love to say that by leaving at 7.30 I was ducking out early, but I was one of the last to leave. I was really tired so I skipped the rec room and went to bed. There’s nothing on tonight, as far as I’m aware, but I’m hoping I’ll find some activity to latch onto, as I finished my book today and if I start another one tonight I’ll feel like a harlot.

One phenomenon I need to remark upon is that old people feel they can eavesdrop on one’s conversations and then give their revered opinion- it happened to Jason and me on the bus yesterday and Emma, Esmond and me a couple of weeks ago and I only mention it cos they’re discussing spiderman at the next table and I really want to weigh in, but I can’t cos I still have all my original teeth and they’ll (justly) think I’m rude and weird. Alas.

Is there anything else to say? Um. I’ve been passing my days by going into the uni campus and should really start venturing out to the rest of the city soon- I did go to a pawn shop and Aldi with my yarra friends yesterday, but that doesn’t feel adventurous and I can’t imagine why. Once I find someone to explore the city with, hopefully, I’ll have more to write about and I’m also looking into finding some way of taking photos. Watch this space. 

A splash of colour

Just now, I had genuine, spontaneous contact with two people my own age. It was glorious.
They were a young couple. I was at the train station, see, near Yarra, but I didn't know the way back, having walked an overcircuitous that morning to the next station over. I overheard them discussing what they would have for dinner- he wanted a hamburger, maybe a pizza, she, fish cakes with onions (maybe making them into a sandwich- well, it takes all sorts to make a world.)
Well, they didn't seem the mugging type, so I screwed my courage to the sticking place and asked for directions. I told them I was looking for NMIT as people don't seem to have heard of Yarra House; it turns out they were walking the same direction, so they escorted me part of the way.
The girl reminded me a little of Ramona from Scott Pilgrim- a comparison she would have cherished, judging by the steampunk goggles proudly displayed atop her head. I commented on them and she was delighted to meet someone who knew what steampunk was. The man was more reserved, but he still managed to get a laugh about my obvious Britishness. He was an engineer and physicist, studying at RMIT, she a environment scientist and international study...er at Deacon. From what I gathered, they knew each other from the rural idyll they both came from. I didn't get either of their names, not that it would have helped since I don't have facebook, but I may meet them again on the public transport to which I am now enslaved.
For the sake of thoroughrority, I should say I returned to the games room last night to find the same man there. His name is Michael. He is quite nice, from what I can gather and asked me (yet again) what I wanted to watch. I noticed Back to the Future on the tivo. We watched the entire trilogy together. The only reason this does not count as contact is that over the course of six hours, we exchanged five lines of dialogue. Of course, going by this rate of increase, by Wednesday we should be married.


This is not related to the rest of this post, but I want to record it anyway- the principle difference I have noticed between Australia and the UK so far, excepting currency and accents, is the birds: the ones outside my window sound like monkeys and look like magpies on steroids. And today, as I was walking back, I glimpsed a beautiful, Macaw-like thing just sitting in a tree. It was like a rainbow had perched on the branch and I was awe-struck. I have no idea what it was, but I hope there are more of them because there is nothing like that just flying around in Edinburgh.

Hello from the future

It's five in the morning on July 13th here (my first real day in Australia is Friday the 13th, oh dear...). I have officially been beaten by jet lag, and cannot get back to sleep; my current plan is to exit yarra ASAISA (As Soon As Is Socially Acceptable), and go explore the city, taking time to do all those jobs one must do once one moves- open a bank account, get a new mobile, acquire some friends.
Ah yes, the eternal search for companionship. Once I'd finally settled in, had the tour and unpacked (I am now the sort of person who unpacks- deal with it), I was faced with a choice; either try and get some sleep, or go out there and meet my new comrades. Now, bear in mind I'd been travelling for 36 hours and had slept an estimated 6 hours during that time. I'll admit it, I was irritable. I was scared of what I might say, and how this may affect future friend-making. Case in point: I had gotten the 546, as instructed, but did not alight at the correct stop. *cue sad trumpet* I crossed the road to the bus stop opposite, where the same bus would pick me up and take me in the opposite direction. Soon after, a woman plodded up and I promptly asked her the time, she gave it to me, and then I foolishly asked her directions to Yarra house, lest I should be able to walk. She had never heard of such a place, but told me she thought the bus driver would have.
Forty or fifty times.
Not in a row, you understand, but interspersed with telling me her family history (no joke, one time her dad delivered furniture to Buckingham palace) asking me which suburb I wanted to go to, and interrogating me as to which university I was attending (she herself was a LaTrobe graduate). These conversational curiosities also bore repeating, in her eyes.
I nearly punched her.
She was the most insipid woman I had ever met, to paraphrase Austen, and I am not Elizabeth Bennet, I am not Emma Woodhouse and I am certainly not Fanny Price (heh heh, Fanny). Now, as anyone who knows me will attest, I am the most sweet-natured and kind soul you will ever meet- but beneath that burns a fire, which takes very little kindling to reach white hot terminal combustion. And this woman was piling on the logs like there was no tomorrow. She is lucky to be unharmed.
So, clearly I was in no state to meet my new best friends for life, and I decided to nap before heading for the trenches. I slept for four hours and then set off to the games room. Empty. I tried the recreation room. Empty. The kitchen? Empty.
I returned to my room, trod down the growing feeling I was going to be alone for a year, and circled back upon myself, where I found a man sitting in the games room. Success? I wish. The man was not unfriendly, don't get me wrong, but he was very happily watching TV and didn't need a new English friend. He asked the room at large (there was someone else there, asleep) what we wanted to watch, and, since it was on, I suggested the film 'Hanna'. This somewhat reminds me of the time I tried to seduce someone by showing them 'Batman Returns'.

Ladies.

This is not to say Hanna is a bad film, but it does not generate discussion- it's just too bizarre. The only thing one can think of saying is 'wha-huh?' Especially if you haven't seen it before. Alack.

So, once the film ended, I shot the man a smile and retreated to my room. I woke up four hours later, and broke a glass I had on my bedside table. Smooth. 

So, in conclusion, I've had 14 hours' sleep over the past three days, I broke the glass I was so kindly given by the RA, I've failed to meet anyone and I'm on course to live some kind of nocturnal existence while here. But, not for me the furrowed brow, tomorrow I can woo them all with my James Bond-style charm. Watch out Oz, the British are coming.

P.S. On the second leg of my journey, I was once more sat behind a baby, who screamed his lungs out the entire time. Guess how many mommies he had? That's right, only one. Give it up, breeders, gaybies are just better.

Plane-talkin'

I currently sit in the free wifi lounge of Seoul international airport, South Korea. This is officially the farthest I've ever been from 'home', wheree'er I choose that to be, the first time I've been out of Europe, the first time I've been to a country where I speak literally none of the language (I think 'Incheon' means 'Seoul', but personally I think it sounds like a new pokemon).
On the flight, I was seated in the mid-row seat, right behind a baby, so, as you can imagine, I was in for a fun ride. Except, neither proved an issue- the woman to my left was very talkative, but not overly so; she was also quite picky with her food, so I got two cakes and an extra omelette at breakfast (I had to choose between pre-made omelettes and pre-made porridge; is there no god?!); I don't think the man to my right spoke English, but he didn't get huffy when I accidentally elbowed him so I've decided I liked him. The baby was actually a delight- only two short bursts of tears, quickly allayed by one of her mothers (I took her stoic silence as conclusive proof that gay parents raise the best kids) or one of the stunningly beautiful women who sashayed up and down the aisles, bows in hair and water jugs in hand. They really were very acommodating- as far as I was aware, I was the only one awake on the plane at one point and one of them still thought to come and offer me refreshment. The in-flight movies were also not to be sniffed at- I caught up with The Lorax, Wrath of the Titans and Friends with Kids, so I'm pretty solid for next year's Oscars, I imagine. The one problem was, as previously alluded, I Could Not Sleep.
It was frustrating.
I was too hot.
I was too cramped.
I was too vertical.
I wanted to find out if the Lorax ever restored his beloved forest.
Kay, a creative writing teacher at Warwick University, who also happened to be the woman to my left, dozed off as soon as she wished. Same story with the wee bairn in front of me. Just like in Sleeping Beauty, I watched everyone else fall into a deep and magical sleep whilst I stared at what I presume is the Korean for lavatory. Then I played Pac-man, but the controls didn't work. Then I played Street Fighter but I always sucked at that game, so I gave up. I have some sleeping pills (sadly inaccessible during the last flight, which I have now stuffed into my trouser pocket, so hopefully the next journey will not expand my filmic horizons so broadly but will leave me feeling less like a punching bag with a bladder problem. But I may stay up to watch  the last five minutes of Friends with Kids, sadly stolen by the inconvenience of landing- I really hope Julia and Jason get together- they've earnt it.