Paris L’Etrange is rockin’!

Have just returned on a sleeper train from the L’Etrange Festival in Paris for the European premiere of L’AUTRE MONDE which was a blast! Forgive me here for being a little half-assed and sleep deprived, but I wanted to get this down before life gets in the way and I start to forget.

These kind of events are often nerve wracking at first, but this one was doubly so because the documentary is such an intimate piece of work for me, containing many years of research, and it’s the first time I appear on the big screen telling a rather fantastical, yet true story. People who have supernatural encounters and talk openly about them are generally treated with derision, or like lunatics. This thought has been a faint echo in the back of my mind since I first gave the interview to camera. Still, I think being honest about these kinds of experiences is more important than a few jeers and sneers at the end of the day. We live in a magical universe. It permeates the gray of our existence. It is there just beyond reach, and it is waiting. Sometimes, the unseen can be seen. If this documentary makes someone look at their world in a different way, or helps them give voice to their own experiences in the borderlands, then I’m thrilled. These were the thoughts swirling around in my head before the screening. I didn’t know I was going to be presenting on stage as generally screen writers are pretty much left in the shadows, so I didn’t really prepare anything and just sort of rambled thank you a bunch of times. But I meant everyone of those thank you’s even if they were not my most eloquent. And thanks to the train delays, and barely getting there in time, I was still wearing flip flops as I hadn’t made it back to the hotel to change my shoes, hence the last minute decision to go barefoot. Trés bohemian, non?

The after parties (notice the usage of the plural) went on into the small hours of the morning. I think we must have closed at least four different places, but the last one is admittedly a little fuzzy. What a strange and amazing posse we accrued that night of old friends, new friends, assorted film makers, musicians and producers. It was a little like stepping out of time into this fantastical and strangely protected bubble, where the surreal was the norm, and chance encounters happened every time you turned around. I love nights like this when it feels like anything is possible. The world was our oyster, and that’s literally the last thing I had before we made our way back to the hotel through the winding side streets as dawn was just beginning to make her presence known.

Self, Matthieu Boulard, Richard Stanley, and Simon Boswell

I’ll quickly write up some of the highlights as I could easily right a novel on all the reasons I love Paris. I caught Adan Jodorowsky’s short film, THE VOICE THIEF, which completely floored me. In this day in age of shrinking budgets, and making the best you can on the shortest amount of time available, it was such a pleasure to see a film so beautifully and meticulously crafted, and with so much style. It really is visual feast for the senses and is very keeping in the aesthetic started by his father so many years ago. I can’t wait to see more from Adan as he’s shown himself to be enormously talented. If you get the chance to see it run, don’t walk. I don’t want to give away any more, but I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Scene from THE VOICE THIEF directed by Adan Jodorowsky. Starring Asia Argento & Cristobal Jodorowsky.
Other highlights included having lunch with Jello Biafra and Pakito Bolino and being attacked by bombastic pigeons at the table while trading Wesley Willis anecdotes. Being coerced at the last minute to see the band Ghost Dance play who were quite fabulous, and then stealing the group after their set and going back to our friend Matthieu’s place to continue the concert on and on until the wee hours of the morning. Friday the 13th started the second screening of L’AUTRE MONDE in which some of the audience members had some surprisingly touching comments and observations after the film. Our last night in Paris ended with one of the posse who shall remain nameless (although a video does exist!) getting the number 13 temporarily branded on their arm with a wood burning pen.
Adventures aside, I’d like to thank the everyone connected to the L’Etrange Festival for being awesome hosts and putting together such an amazing event, and our friend Matthieu Boulard for sharing some of his beautiful city and many adventures with us, and everyone involved with the film for making L’AUTRE MONDE a reality.  
Photo by Fred Ambroisine
I think the smile pretty much says it all…
Much love from where the worlds touch,
S – xx

My Friday is now Sunday…

Journal post from yesterday:

A tension throbs in the air like an unconscious hum underpinning the day-lit world. Something is wrong with the valley this year. The mayflowers bloomed in June. The pears are still green on the trees. The owls only came back a week ago. Summer visited for a couple of weeks and then blew a fuse. Already the air is cold and crisp, the shadows sharpened, and it feels like late fall. The villagers are busy stockpiling wood for what promises to be a brutal and vicious winter. The laughter of Our Lady of the Snows can be heard echoing with a furiously icy chill. People in the streets are on edge and the smiles seem less friendly. No sounds of laughter coming from late night parties interrupt the evening silence. Everyone is watching out of the corner of their eyes and holding their collective breaths. Will fortunes turn? Can we will summer back and beg her just to give us a few more days of warmth and pleasure? It feels like nature and the old gods are abandoning us as they wave their heads sadly and sink back into further silence. Day after day of pallid gray is enough to darken anyone’s thoughts…

End of journal entry.

Slightly moody, non? I’m finishing up projects and chucking a little glamour into my life before the European premiere of ‘L’AUTRE MONDE’ at the L’Etrange Film Festival in Paris. I’ve just finished creating a new character for another script and have been pulling my hair a little trying to figure out some pretty way-out-there science. One way or another I’ll make the facts work and give a little more authenticity to the narrative. And we’ve also just started writing the follow up novel to Saurimonde, which is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Deep breath. Fall is always a good time for me to start these major creative endeavors as the turning of the seasons invites introspection. But am I ready to write another book? Possibly not. Is anyone ever really ready? Rhetorical question. The last book was an inner journey to hell for me at times. Can I be that brave again? Do I have any real choice? I have a fairly clear sense of the story even if we don’t have a hard outline yet. And as these things go, when you start toying with different entities and revisiting forgotten legends and pieces of lore, the synchronicities and coincidences start happening fast and furiously. It’s a little like waking a slumbering beast. I wonder if these things are always around me and I don’t notice because I’m tuned to another channel that day, or if they happen as markers, little signs to show me I’m on the right path. I’d prefer to believe the second statement. For me, every story I delve into lately ends up being about healing sources (as in ancient water spots – where we get the word sorciere from – those dark women who would scry the sacred waters) and snakes and ladies. Or ladies with aquatic appendages (like mermaids with two tails). Regeneration and rebirth as opposed to virginity and shame. I suspect these will be big themes in the next novel.

I meant to do this on Friday as I want it to start to be an ordinary part of this blog. Fridays are for posting things which have inspired me this week. (Let’s just ignore the fact it’s already Saturday and will be probably Sunday before I get this posted. In my defense the internet signal has been almost non existent.)

So here we go!

Film maker, Syl Disjonk (ETHEREAL CHRYSALIS) sent this new video he made of a film project they are trying to get together.  I think Jean Pronovost’s art work is extremely evocative and provocative and really rather astounding.  And remember what I said above about snakes and ladies?

My friend, and fellow esoteric researcher, Ashley Dayour (THE WHISPERS IN THE SHADOW), premiered the new video from his latest project THE DEVIL & THE UNIVERSE. I adore the last album and play it continuously when I’m writing.

THE DEVIL & THE UNIVERSE’S  music reminds me of idle pagan things. Of a collision of the distant past and near future.  Decaying cities and woodland elementals. Relics of a strange faith which constantly reinvent themselves. It’s a heady brew.

There’s a strong John Carpenter influence to their music. I’m a huge fan of his scores. Especially ‘ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK’ which is on heavy rotation around here. I’ve always had a scene in mind about a woman rollerskating wearing nothing but heavy gold glitter and shiny red lipstick, gliding along the floor with only a single spotlight accompanying her. There’s red velvet plush seats around the roller rink only they’re darkened, and somewhere out in the shadows she knows her lover is watching her even if she can’t see him. She’ll twist and turn gracefully, enjoying the sensation of wind blowing against her in time to minimalistic, yet catchy, electronic music (enter the score from ‘ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK’). And you can guess where it goes from there. Okay. Maybe it’s a personal fantasy. It’d make for a hell of an encounter, or real life erotic adventure, though.

Speaking of heady things, I was just introduced to the art of F.n. Vegas. I’m in awe and in love with her work. This was the first piece I encountered and literally, I can’t stop staring at it. I’m always looking for new visual inspiration for writing scenes. Each book I work on has its own special portfolio of pictures which emanates on some level the same feel that I want to conjure into words. I search for images which are representations of something more than the mundane. It’s hard to put a finger on it, but you know when you see it. There’s some indefinable quality that stirs the blood… .

You can view more of her work here –

In another strange coincidence I just realized in grabbing the links for the artwork that the artist of the work above was the model for the life size woman in bronze with the cephalopod on her head which so entranced me in the video of Jean Provonost’s work above. The worlds are small and Melusine is making her presence known once again.

Like I guessed at somewhere near the beginning of this post, it’s now Sunday. All good intentions gone to hell. Funny how time flies when you’re down the rabbit hole. Time would really have no meaning at all if this pesky thing called reality wouldn’t keep rearing its ugly head. Reality wears a wrist watch it constantly taps, and it schedules meetings while haughtily staring down its nose at you and clucking under its breath that you have too much fun.

Fuck reality. We all need more fun and imagination, and the freedom to explore and share those things which inspire us. Celebrate your fellow artists. Celebrate those who enrich your life in any way. And celebrate yourself.

Much love from where the worlds touch,

S – xx

The Otherworld and more!

The sun is out this morning. It’s still bloody cold for the supposed dog days of summer, but the world seems all the brighter waking up to a brilliant review from the Hollywood Reporter about ‘L’Autre Monde’ (The Otherworld) which is a new feature length documentary directed by Richard Stanley and co-written by yours truly ( I also appear in the film to tell a very strange tale indeed!), shot by Karim Hussain, edited by Pat Tremblay, scored by Simon Boswell, and produced by Metaluna Productions.
I’d like to take a minute here to give a huge thank you to the crew, and everyone else involved with the film. It’s been a labor of love for many who’ve given freely of their time and talent. And a huge thank to the people who appear in the film for sharing their stories and belief systems connected to this deeply strange and beloved corner of the world.

In other news… L’Autre Monde will be making its European Premiere at the L’Etrange Film Festival Edition XIX in Paris on September 10. Follow the link here for screening times and venues:

And in other, other news… I just received this pic from one of my favorite photographers, Jan Piere Texier, from a shoot done a few months back. He calls it ‘Callipyge’ (which is a polite term for very curvy bottom).

Someone else called it ‘un couer ardent a écouter battre’… ‘the ardent heart beats loudly’… I’m kind of in love with that thought…

The next installment in the Saurimonde series is beginning to take real shape and this book promises to quite another ride. More news on that subject coming very soon!

Much love from where the worlds touch,

S – xx

Let’s give it away now…

To celebrate these last dog days of summer we thought we’d go ahead and giveaway another paperback copy of Saurimonde on Goodreads. Follow the link below for your chance to win!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Saurimonde by Melissa St. Hilaire


by Melissa St. Hilaire

Giveaway ends September 04, 2013.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to win

Want to know more about Saurimonde? Then take a peek at our teaser trailer:

Or check out the synopsis below:

Like a bird in a gilded cage, Saurimonde is trapped  between a brutally abusive husband, Gilles, who treats her like a possession, and a lover whose name she doesn’t even know. The only thing she longs for is an escape. But to where? She should have been more careful in what she wished for because the day Gilles spies her and her lover together is her last mortal one. With the aid of the local wise woman, Elazki, Gilles gets his hands on a dangerous ancient potion. He figures out the perfect way to serve it to her – cooked into her lover’s heart. One bite has dire consequences.

Left for dead by her husband at the river’s edge, Saurimonde awakens to a whole new existence. Now she has become a part of the river itself. Days are spent in erotic encounters with unwary passers-by. Nights are spent in predatory pleasure, feasting on those she has seduced. 

As the body count begins to rise in the village, Gilles starts to suspect his wife is still alive. He enlists the help of Elazki, who has secrets of her own, and her darkly handsome nephew, Sordel. Newly returned after being banished by his magus master in the black lands, Sordel unknowingly  holds the key to all their fates. One will die, one will wish they were dead, and the other will fulfill their destiny.

Danger awaits them at every turn as they enter a realm where nothing is as it seems. Each will be forced to make terrible sacrifices. Will they be able to break the spell and stop the beautiful demonic creature Saurimonde has become? Can they possibly save her? Or will they too find a brutal death beneath the deep dark waters…

Think this roller coaster of a novel might be right up your alley? Then head on over to Goodreads and enter! 

The contest runs until September 4th.

We wish you all the very best of luck! 

From where the worlds touch,

S – xx

Musings from the Scorpion City

I warned you I’d be posting these random journal entries from throughout the year. I’ve just spent the night of the full moon in the haunted ruins of a 13th century castle celebrating the moon goddess and dancing under the stars to FOTN amongst other favorites old and new. I have to say the acoustics in the keep are pretty awesome and there was some serious magic in the air that night… Now summer seems to have blown a gasket and the rains have drifted in. After a howling end of summer party which started at another chateau last night, my head feels kind of like it’s blown a gasket as well, so I’ll keep this short and sweet…

The Scorpion City 5-5-2013:

I can’t remember who’s blog I was reading that wrote, “I want to be in love with my life every day. I want to learn and create and hang onto a sense of wonder wherever it takes me.” The one thing I would add to this is to be in love with yourself in a life that you love. It’s really not conceited. Have you ever stopped to think what it is about yourself that amazes you? And yet you think this about other people all the time. I hate this word conceited because it carries such a stigma. There is a huge difference between being narcissistic, and being the star of your own show. Conceited is the word which is dragged out whenever someone else feels threatened. Feel great about something you just wrote, or the new dress you bought, or something you painted, or maybe you just closed a really big deal, or aced your test? Nothing like feeling good about it and then having someone trot out the conceited word. But you should write this down and say it out loud every day – ‘other peoples perceptions of you are none of your business‘. So feel good about it, dammit. Celebrate it. I say celebrate everything you do. I mean, why the hell not? If you can’t be in love with yourself than how can you be in love with your life? This is your life to live not someone else’s. Just do one thing for yourself today. Find one thing about yourself that you love and toast it. Then devise a story about this one aspect of yourself and see where it goes. It’ll be fun and surprising, I promise you.

Here, I’ll go first. Today I woke up in Barcelona. It’s been 18 hour work days for the last week and I’ve got five screen/ and or book projects going on at once (thankfully two are almost completely finished), and I’m haggard; worn to the bone. I’ve been fighting with my partner who is brilliant, but difficult at the best of times. I don’t have time for a rest day, but I do have time for a mini break. What do I celebrate today? My endless sense of adventure. Hurrah! So I take a walk up to the park crawling with tourists next to the Gaudi cathedral and people watch for a while. I chat with a cute hippy guy who is making bubbles – giant bubbles and bubbles within bubbles. The kids love him. I like the smoke bubbles. I like the sheen they give off. It makes me think of other dimensions and things that should not be and I love getting lost in these kinds of trains of thought. I sit on a wooden bench and write this paragraph:

“I saw you this morning only for a split second. Green eyes watching me cross the city street from beneath a motorcycle helmet. I recognized you. It’s been a long time since you’ve haunted my dreams. ‘How long you say?’ ‘I don’t know,’ I reply, ‘I don’t even know your name.’ The last time I saw you was late at night in an old bar along a darkened quarter in San Sebastian. You made me a drink and you were so close that time I could see the flecks of gold in your lime colored eyes. You smiled that lupine smile at me and said, ‘welcome back’, even though I’d never been there before. That night, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think about was your tawny skin as I listened to the waves pounding against shore. Now you are just a moment in time. A flash from a strangers eyes. But I know someday, when I’m least expecting it, you will find me again. Until then, my once and future lover… á démain.”

 I hope they never finish the cathedral and just keep adding to it forever.

Then I walk down streets I don’t know and force myself to find another way back to the flat. I stop in a boutique and try on a pair of outrageous high heels that I may never wear in a thousand years, but I love them anyway. My mood starts to brighten. The sun comes out again. It’s only a little adventure, but suddenly I’m recharged. Now, I smell like mandarin oranges and am putting on red lipstick and curling up like a cat on the hardwood floor as a patch of afternoon sunlight spills through the window. I feel exotique again and this makes me happy. It’s a simple as that. Now it’s your turn!
End of journal entry.

While wandering the natural stone labyrinth in Nebias last week I was snapped in this picture as I turned on one of the still warm rocks to invoke my strange prayers to the dying sun. Nebias is home of the fairies den and they seemed to want to play. I had no idea they’d given me wings until I’d gotten back home. Such a fabulously mischievous gift from the incantadas of summerland.

Photo by Richard Stanley
Much love from where the worlds touch,
S – xx

Breasts and medieval fantasy…

Au naturel and sexy! Don’t you agree?

I have to get something off of my chest – quite literally. I just watched season 2 of Game of Thrones (yes, I know season 3 is already over with, but I’m living like an ostrich with my head in the sand in a remote village somewhere quite far from the 21st century) and while I was not as enraptured as I was by the first season and often found myself getting a little lost in the shuffle of story lines and characters, I do have to say this one thing… Thank you Game of Thrones for making real breasts sexy again. Big breasts, small breasts, pointy breasts, breasts that hang slightly, breasts that move. I love it! And they are all sexy! It’s awesome. I don’t know who was responsible for that decision but I applaud you, and you have my eternal gratitude. It is such a relief to see a real woman’s body beautifully lit, and beautifully shot, and not have these hard looking, bubble like, flotation devices attached that remind me of obscenely over-sized door stoppers when a person goes horizontal. I hope this is a growing trend in cinema and the bizarrely sculpted Barbie idealization we’ve been subjected to visually for the last however many years is on the way out. Good riddance, I say. Plastic is bad. It’s toxic for the body and the soul. Curves are good. Breasts are good. Hurrah to Game of Thrones for making them cool again. And don’t get me started on the current trend in labia surgery… Aye carumba! How many different way can we be taught to hate our bodies? Don’t do it – and don’t believe those prissy little surgeons for one minute. They’re just vultures on a string, circling around, and preying upon people’s neuroses, and perceived ‘weaknesses’, while making a fast buck at the same time. Labia flaps are good and, like breasts, should come in all shapes and sizes. Variety is the real spice of life and as far as I’m concerned the hotter the better! 

Much love from where the worlds touch,
S. – xx

Dreaming of Pan….

Someone this morning sent me a message which said, “Keep calm. Your satyr is coming.” I had to laugh and then I remembered this piece which I had written up a while ago, but hadn’t posted yet. Today seems a good day for it if you believe in portents and signs the way that I do. And be forewarned, I will be posting these journal entries from time to time. Some of them are very personal and give a little insight into inspirations or where my head space was at while writing the stories. I suppose they’re very telling of my own unique psychopathology, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.

From the private journal of Scarlett Amaris – April 29th, 2013, Montsegur:

I took a long walk through the forests this morning trying to shake myself from this dream and yet I found myself not wanting to let it go at the same time. Even though it’s the end of April, it’s started to snow again. I hate the cold and I my feet are still frozen as I type this, but there’s something pure and magical when the world lies within an unbroken carpet of white. There’s a stillness which filters down to nothing, save my frozen breath against the wind. I love these moments when it’s so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat and nothing else exists. Not for the moment. For the moment everything is crystal clear and the ghosts of my life give rise within the playground of my mind.

The dream…
I dreamed of you again last night. I was on a bus heading across the border from lands unknown to Mexico. I fell asleep in the dream, and when I was jolted awake by the gears shifting in the old bus, I was in a dusty, tumbleweed strewn town straight out of a spaghetti western. The bus stopped at a hotel which was a light pink stucco and had cactuses painted on the outside which were faded from the relentless sun. There was an unseen mariachi band playing an upbeat, yet mournful tune in the distance which said all there was to be said about the place. I walked through a large group of tourists who were milling about the courtyard to the cool inner hallway that led to my room. As I dug in my purse looking for the hotel key, you appeared as dashing as ever. A part of me in the dream knew you were dead and had been so for quite some time and yet, there you were, even though you were much younger than when you passed on. You asked me how I’d been and I couldn’t stop staring at your handsome face. The sound of your gravelly voice sent shivers down my spine–reminding me of endless sweaty nights wrapped in your embrace, and what it was like to feel safe again. Your heart may never have been on offer, and you were always your own man, but there was a certain amount of solace to be had from our encounters. Maybe because we both knew they would never last. Standing in the dimly lit hall I told you about the new book, about ‘Saurimonde‘, and that it was hard and full of sex and you would probably love parts of it. You laughed and said that you always loved hard sex. Then you grabbed from behind, wrapping your arms around me and you growled you were proud of me before biting me on the back of the neck in the secret spot that only you know. I felt my knees go weak, along with my will. It was as if you knew I’d written the character of Pan based on you. He has all of your sweetness and sexiness, and little of your rock star swagger. I wanted to stay there in your embrace. I wanted it to be real, but even within the dream, I knew it was a dream. I breathed you in and leaned back into your warmth. You whispered against my flesh that I still owed you a naked ritual exorcism. I laughed and protested there hadn’t been time yet. And then you were gone. You vanished as quickly as you arrived, without a trace, and without so much as a whisper. I searched for you in the dream. One of the locals told me in broken English you were somewhere hanging with the boys. I hope wherever you are now this is true. I imagine you laughing and telling some ribald tall tale, a cigarette burning between your fingers, and a half drunk tequila resting on the table in front of you. You will always be this man in my memories, and now dreams, along with a internet folder full of lurid messages, are all I have left of you.

End of dream…

The character Pan was partially based upon an old, very charismatic friend of mine who died suddenly quite a few years ago. He was on tour for most of his life with various musical projects and wherever he was in the world he would send me exceptionally naughty fractured fairy tales involving the two of us in uniquely perverse circumstances. He had quite an imagination coupled with a charming British turn of phrase and through the years we accrued an arsenal of personal in jokes between us. I stole the line “maybe the chance to worship at your temple door” directly from him. I miss our banter more than anything else, and I’d like to think with the curious timing of the dream, now the book is finished and due out any day, that my friend was giving his stamp of approval. I always thought of him as Pan; lusty, earthy, sexy, and mischiveous. He was no woman’s man and every woman’s man if you know what I mean. Great fun while he was around, but you always knew he was just passing through…
All hail the great God Pan and may he make another nocturnal visit sooner than later.

There’s nothing like grabbing a man by the… horns…?

End of journal entry.

Much love from the now warm and wild mountains,

S. – xx

I am tickled pink from head to toe…
I am beyond super freaking chuffed…

The new promo trailer for Saurimonde is finished and we are over the moon with the results! A huge THANK YOU to my co-writer, Melissa St. Hilaire. She’s the one with the editing savvy that’s made little beast fly.

If you get a chance you should visit us at If you like what you see there than you should try reading the book. It’s chock full of beautiful and terrible things and it’s a roller coaster of a read. We’ll love you all the more for it. Promise.

And here it is:

Much love from where the worlds touch,

Scarlett – xx

Took a walk through the forests an hour ago. I love dusk. I love the last breath of the day before full night comes on. I needed to take a break and clear my head as the writing is not going so smoothly. My thoughts are in disarray, and my souls worn a little thin. I’m trying to vaseline the gums and put on a bright smile after the recent turn of events, but it would be a lie to not say there is a part of me which is just not feeling it. In the fullness of time I may understand why things have gone down the way they have, but right now I have no such illumination. This is why I take time out to watch sunsets and lie in the still warm fields, far away from the lights of the village, and lose myself in the Milky Way, which is so bright up here it looks like a spine of stars curving across the universe. These are the moments that are important. These are the moments that quiet my soul and stir the creative fires. The stillness in these spaces is what I cannot let go of…

I also saw my first badger on my way out in the lower fields. Being a former Angeleno I stood stock still because I thought it was a skunk at first. It took a good long look at me and then turned tail and ran. What an adorable creature. And last night I caught sight of a hedgehog turning the corner on one of the village streets. A few nights ago while out stargazing I had another face to face encounter with a rather large sanglier. They are such shy and beautiful creatures and despite the terrible things people say about them, they aren’t dangerous in the least.

So this will be the place where I post the stuff I won’t on other social sites. It will be one part confessional, a place to store the remnants of dreams and ideas, to update news and other creative projects I’m working on. Hopefully it will be a place to celebrate, but it will also be a place to unload. I’m rarely in-between on things and never neutral on subjects. I take chances and reach for the stars and often fall flat on my face, but I am learning to let go of things beyond my control and trust in the process of creating. It’s a learning curve and a journey. I’d like to think it’s a beautiful journey, but the truth is it can be very hard at times. But that’s what a quest is all about. It’s about finding yourself, spreading your wings, and flying further than you ever thought you could go.

I hope you will join me here…
From where the worlds touch.
Scarlett – xx

This is just a test as I try and wend my way through the system and create something that looks halfway legible.

This was the picture which I wanted to use but the matrix won’t let me…

I will soldier on… Other than this little hiccup this is going to be a lot of fun!