Marshmallow Day - Snap Classic
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Okay, so the first thing, the very first thing you have to understand about Japanese society is if you want to live there, that this is a gift-giving culture. If you're granted the high honor of paying exorbitant rent to your landlord, you got to give them a gift for their generosity of spirit. Or if you're meeting a potential business client, bring a gift.

The mailman, look at you funny, give him a gift. Gift, gift, gift, gift, gift, gift, gift. How does anyone afford it? Do you buy a nicely packaged gift for every day of the week? No! My friends, that is a rookie mistake, a costly mistake. What you do is you re-gift the gift someone gave you.

That's right, you just snip out the personalized card and pass it on. You're good to go. Get and give, get and give, stick and jab. Everybody does it. But these Valentine marketers are always one step ahead. They know what all the Romeos and Juliettes will do. Get the present from one, pass it to the next. So they set up this diabolical plan. They make Valentine's Day just for the fellas. That's right.

Women, and only women, must give dark chocolate to the men in their lives. Boyfriends, husbands, sure, but co-workers, bosses, dog walkers, the whole bit. And what do the women get in return? They get jack. That's what they get. It's a pretty good deal for the dudes, but the ladies aren't having it. They invent a brand new holiday, Marshmallow Day, or White Day. It's March 14th, where the dudes are obligated to get something for the women.

And if you think you're slick, no, you can't just take the dark chocolate you got a month earlier and pass it on to the females on your wish list. No, no, no, no, no. The rules clearly state it has to be white, like white marshmallow covered in white chocolate with a white gold box white. This way, they thwart the re-gifting before it even begins. Curses.

And nobody sells cheap stuff. No way. You can't find it. Only big expensive boxes of hand-dipped white gold dust or whatever. And if you're, I don't know, me, and you're looking for love, but you just started your new job and you're broke,

You've got some decisions to make. Pay rent or get white chocolate. Food to eat or white chocolate. You can't afford to play a numbers game. You can only get one box. Better make it count. But who are you going to give it to? Anyone who doesn't get a box is going to be ticked, angry. Might as well cross them off your list right now. And right when you're standing on the corner, contemplating your next move, you hear the beep, beep.

Look up and see Noriko. Beautiful, kind, magnetic Noriko stops her car just to say hello. Noriko, in here you are holding a box of chocolate. Glen-kun, dare no chocolate though. Glen, whose chocolate is that? Eh? I don't know what you know. What you mean? I've been looking for you everywhere. And you hand over the prize box. Arigato, Glen-san.

She takes your box, your exquisitely wrapped chocolate, and throws it in the backseat on top of a pile of other white boxes. Johnny! Bye-bye! She drives off, probably to spend some time with someone she actually likes. And here you are. Here I am. Standing there. Stupid. Empty-handed. Knowing that it's going to be a very long year.

♪♪♪ Today on Snap Judgment, Marshmallow Day. ♪♪♪ Stories of it not quite working out. My name is from Washington. Nobody even likes white chocolate when you're listening to Snap Judgment. ♪♪♪

We begin in classic Marshmallow Day style. The story about putting all those feels on the line, scaling the nearest rooftop, battling the opposing suitors, dropping to one knee, and finally, this thing close.

Getting real quiet. Wondering what's the world saying back? Our story begins a couple of years ago. Boston writer Katie Simon, she's on assignment in the old country, in Belarus. She's renting an apartment for the three days she has left on her visa and meeting her at the door of the building. Keys in hand is a young man. Katie, take it away.

He introduces himself. His name is Boris. And we go in together. It's very old and dark and like litter is everywhere. And I'm like, what is happening? We walk into an elevator. All of a sudden I can smell him. Oh, I want to be near you. This has only happened to me a couple of times before.

As the elevator goes up, I sort of find myself leaning towards him to drink in that smell. He was wearing headphones around his neck. He had these electric blue shoelaces. These little things make me curious about him.

And I'm sort of seeing all of this through the haze of being pretty exhausted. So it's significant to me that I am this interested in somebody new when I'm also very interested in going to sleep. I leave the elevator first and my brain is spinning a little bit. He literally has the apartment keys locked.

and is putting them down on the table in the apartment I'm about to stay in. Oh no, I have to find a way for this to keep going. Look up at Boris and I see he's trying to find a way to say goodbye. Instead, he asks if I would like to go on a walk with him. It feels kind of magical. That's when we...

exchange numbers. Boris leaves and I touch the keys he's left there and they're still warm from his hands. As I'm grocery shopping, I'm checking my phone and as I'm unpacking the groceries, I'm checking my phone. As I'm getting ready to go to bed, I'm checking my phone.

Yeah, I'm feeling very antsy waiting for this text to come. There might be some cultural differences here. And I text him, do you want to go on a walk with me? And he pretty quickly responds like, sure.

I feel absolutely giddy. My head is spinning, like, thinking about the future. I can find excuses to just, like, keep coming back to see this person that I have yet to spend more than a few minutes with. He takes me...

paddle boats through the main river to the city. We start talking about books. I really love a guy who reads and like checks that box so that's perfect. He takes me to a small amusement park and we get on a ferris wheel and

And this he seems pretty excited about. We are also locked in together on this two-person seat. I sort of can find excuses to knock our knees together or nudge him. And that's fun. If I turn to look at him, I find that he's always looking right back like he was waiting for me almost to make that connection.

We went to get picnic food and then for everything he picked out, he held it up to me and said, do you like this? And I said, I don't know. And then he would explain what it was. And then we ended up with this picnic that we would both like. Looking back on this day with Boris, I saw the whole old town. We went on a Ferris wheel and paddle boat and

I had a picnic in an historical park and he has made this trip so much more alive than it would have been possible if I were alone. I mentioned that it's late and we should probably head back and he says, "Okay, but is it okay if I come over later?" In the night, Boris rings the bell to come into my apartment

and it isn't long before we're kissing on the floor. In my head I'm like, "Oh, this is amazing kissing." We move into the bed and we begin having sex and I'm like, "Oh, this is the best sex of my life." Should be really sleepy and tired and it's like five in the morning, but instead we just keep talking.

Eventually he leaves because he has things to do. The next day, I just clean up the apartment and get ready to go. And then there's a knock on the door and it's him. I am totally infatuated with this guy and I am leaving the country in a few hours. I have never been so aware of the passing of each minute. It feels like a countdown.

He says, we will never see each other again. In my head, I'm just like, like, I disagree strongly. There isn't time anyways. I already have a car to the airport waiting. I hug him goodbye and get in the car. While in Belarus, I have only had

one night of very restless sleep. Other than that, it's been a couple hours here and there. That is the first red flag to me that something might be going on beyond just falling very quickly, very hard for someone new. Having so little sleep can be a trigger for me. Hang tight, Snap Nation.

When we return, Katie finds out exactly what this trigger could release. Stay tuned. Welcome back to Snap Judgment. You're listening to the Marshmallow Day episode. When last we left Katie, she just departed Belarus where she fell madly and deeply in love with Boris. And now that she's back home, things are about to get real complicated, real fast. Snap Judgment. I come home and I can't stop thinking about Boris. I know we'll see each other again.

I go and see my friend for dinner. I start to tell her about Boris, and I won't drop the subject. She says, I don't really understand why you're talking about this so much, given that he lives so far away. I become frustrated with her, and she notices, and she says,

Katie, you seem to be talking a lot nonstop, overly focused on something. You're sort of confident, but I don't think it makes sense. She asks me, have you seen your psychiatrist recently? I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 19 years old. Bipolar disorder is a mental illness in which people...

suffer both depressive episodes, feeling very low, and then elevated mood episodes. When my friend suggests that I might need to see a psychiatrist, she's gesturing towards those previous bipolar episodes.

remained irritated at her. I don't want to do that. Like, nothing's wrong. Everything's great. I'm in love with this guy. But since I already had a checkup the following week, I decided there was no harm in at least just doing that.

I walk into my therapist's office and sit down on her leather couch, leaning back against the same familiar pillows. I've been here a hundred, a thousand times before. I am drumming my fingers against my knee. I am leaning forward. I'm telling her about Boris, who I find so important. Boris is

have sent messages back and forth there is this ongoing spark I think we'll be great together as a couple like maybe I'll end up living on the other side of the ocean totally certain that things will work out she interrupts me when I'm a few sentences in and says are you aware of how fast you're talking no I don't know and sort of shrug it off um

and try to launch back into my explanation about Boris. She interrupts me and says, Katie, I think that you might be having symptoms of a hypomanic episode. Feel resistant, just how I felt with my friend.

She tells me that I need to get a new psychiatrist. The idea of trying out different medications that might make me have unwanted side effects, that was really at the bottom of my want-to-do list. I'm afraid of losing my feelings for Boris. I crash into a depression. I am lying in bed for hours at a time, sleeping maybe 16 hours a day.

There is an overlap between how love and infatuation work on a chemical level and how a manic episode might work on a chemical level. So what's going on here? Am I able to trust myself within this mental illness? Am I able to trust my judgments and my memories?

The next time he messages, I look at the phone and I don't respond. Don't respond to him for many weeks. The longest we have gone without talking. And even as I come out of the depression, I'm still hesitant to restart communication because I'm very confused.

I'm in my normal self and my roommate has to go to London for work. We end up going together. Well, what do I have to lose? I message him. I'm in England. Do you want me to visit for the weekend?

He replies yes very quickly. I spend the rest of the week fantasizing hard about what that weekend will be like. I'm very much looking forward to just touching him as if to prove he has existed all this time. I'm worried that I might have been affected by

by my manic state and that some of my feelings for him might not have been or be real. Our messages are really brief. I'm just not quite sure what to expect. What if he's a different person than I thought? I'm standing...

Basically a snowbank, because it was February in Minsk, maybe for 10 minutes, 15 minutes. Messaging Boris, I'm full of a lot of questions about what's about to happen. And I look up and he's there. He walks towards me while it is snowing very lightly. And it seems like another kind of imagined dream, Boris.

I know just by looking at him walking towards me, grinning in the particular way that Boris grins, that I was not wrong before to be so infatuated with him, to fall in love with him, that I was not wrong to think about him so much or to try to talk about him all the time to my friends.

feel like I am in the exact right place at the right time. Boris walks up to me and hugs me in a sort of bear hug. I am a lot shorter than him. It feels very safe, sort of like a promise almost. The thing that I really notice is

is that he still smells the same. This sort of irresistible way was not something I made up in an elevator the first time we met. I'm really looking forward to going back to the apartment. When we get there, he tells me...

He is busy the rest of the day. Can he leave his backpack here and I can just rest and then we'll meet up later? And I say, oh, well, it's true. I didn't sleep much. I should sleep on like last time. So I sleep for many hours. The next day, which is halfway through my visit, he doesn't come back. Finally, he does come over. He sits down.

I ask him what's going on. He says, you know, I'm sorry that I've been so busy and happy to be friends, but I don't actually want to have any kind of relationship with you. At first, I think he's joking. And then he explains about his recent breakup. I

try to just sort of grin and nod and get through it and pretty soon excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I slide down onto the floor and hug my legs to myself. I can hear him shuffling around outside waiting for me to come back, but I feel like I'm on the verge of

crying. It feels even colder in this bathroom right now than standing outside in the below freezing snow. We hung out as friends for the rest of my visit and it was lovely and also soul crushing. And I left Minsk a couple days later and I sort of walked into the rest of my life

The fact that I could visit him, recognize that my feelings for him are real in person. It hadn't all been some manic obsession with the sky made me trust myself more. I have always been grateful to myself for finding out the final answer.

Like I am still in there, able to fall in love. The experience I had with Boris was definitely one of learning a little more to take treatment seriously and in the process of doing that in the early days of the pandemic at a peer support group for people with depression and mood disorders, I met Michael. ♪♪

Big thanks to Katie Simon for sharing his story with Snap. Katie's currently working on a book about bipolar disorder, about falling in love, and the stories that we pass down from generation to generation. To find out when that drops, check out our website, snapjudgment.org. The original score for this story was by Renzo Gorio. It was produced by Regina Bediaco.

Now, in the spirit and to get you ready for our next Marshmallow Day story, we're going to bump a rare Snap Music spotlight. An Oakland artist we're big fans of here at The Snap. His name is Overcast with the song Love Somebody. It's just so sweet.

My nephew was just born today. I'm an uncle. It's Uncle Raps. Yeah.

Yo

Ain't that selfish Gettin' older, gettin' over what I held in Family on the coast of where I kept it Drinkin' from the faucet, I had bottled in the kitchen I'm sorry for the switchin' from the happy to the sad I got problems still to visit, and I ain't get the picture Yo, I ain't get the memo, I was cryin' tryna fix it Yeah, I was cryin' tryna fix it Yo, but at least I can admit it Yo

It's been a minute. At least I can admit it.

Overcast, O-V-R-K-A-S-T with the song Love Somebody. Congratulations on the new member of the family. That's beautiful. Sending a big love to you from everyone here at The Snap. Overcast's latest album, it's out now. We're going to have a link on our website, snapjudgment.org. Thank you.

I still got love. Yeah, or my mama just sent me a picture of my nephew. Wow. Yeah, that's crazy. Don't go anywhere, Snappers, because after the break, we hear from another Katie who discovers, yes, another Katie. Stay tuned. Stay tuned.

So this is a story about Katie Crouch.

I liked my name growing up. I liked the name Katie. Katie Crouch was my grandmother's name, so that was the first other Katie Crouch that I knew. So soon after college, I think I was Googling my name, and I came across Katie Crouch, who had graduated from college the same year I did, and she was my same age. And so I just remember making a mental note that another Katie Crouch existed out there. And then a couple years later, Katie went to a friend's wedding in Miami.

And this guy came up to me that I had never met, had a big smile on his face, and he said, "Excuse me, are you Katie Crouch?" And I said, "Yes." And he said, "I know the other Katie Crouch." And as it turned out, the other Katie Crouch also had red hair, also worked in publishing, and at the time also happened to live in San Francisco.

So it kind of brought her into reality even more. Like, is this really my doppelganger? What, you know, are we destined to meet? So when I got back to San Francisco, I emailed her. I wrote something like, how crazy. We both live in San Francisco and have the same name. Let's meet up. And there was no response. Katie eventually moved to New York City, looking for a change of scenery.

And almost immediately, she started receiving online friend requests from people looking for the other Katie Crouch, who was now also living in New York City. For Katie, the coincidences just kept stacking up. So she decided to email the other Katie again, suggesting they meet up. And she got it. And I know that because she responded, neat, take care. Her response really shut me down. I was disappointed. I thought, well, maybe it ends there.

I moved back to San Francisco, and I'd be at different establishments like Kabuki Spring Spa or REI or different places where they say, oh, Katie Crouch on Upper Terrace. And I would say no. And I realized that's her. She's back. She lives in San Francisco again. I can't believe it.

I gave it one more shot. So I sent her an email. I think it was brief. Hey, you know, you live up the hill from me. We should meet sometime for coffee. We're both back in San Francisco. And she never responded. It sounds like such a sad story from my perspective. I just kept reaching out like, this can't be. You have to be more open to this. But clearly, and for whatever reason, the other Katie Crouch wasn't open to this. So Katie resolved to move on and leave the other Katie Crouch behind her.

Although that proved to be kind of impossible. I received an email from Katie's mom with a link to vacation photos on Walgreens.com. I went to Walgreens.com and created an account so that I could look at the photos. Photos of Katie and her family by the lake. And I saw that she had just had a baby girl. I realized that this was not a window into her life that she had granted me by any means.

But it made me feel good to see her happy with her baby girl by the lake. And I responded to her mom and said, you got the wrong Katie. You must have the email wrong. I think I knew at that point there would be no way to shut it off because the emails and the phone calls and the crossed wires just kept coming. And then came the book. In 2008, the other Katie Crouch published her debut novel, Girls in Trucks.

It got raving reviews and secured a spot on the New York Times bestseller list. And I immediately started receiving congratulations and accolades. Someone actually sent me a clipping of the review and said, congratulations, when did you find the time? I saw it on the shelves in tons of places. And so did friends of mine who would take a picture of it on the shelf and text it to me and say, here's your book.

I was a creative writing major. I wrote fiction and poetry in college, and I work as an editor in publishing. So just the fact that I had not yet published a novel was kind of rubbing it in my face a little bit that she was out there and she was quite successful with it.

From that point on, Katie's online existence was pretty much usurped by the other Katie Crouch. Google the name and you get links to Katie Crouch, best-selling author. Katie Crouch, Girls in Trucks. So this Katie's won solace. She got to Twitter first. I do have the Katie Crouch handle on Twitter. She had to be Katie A. And that felt good, just to claim a little piece of the online world for myself.

I think at that point my attitude was just to be a good name neighbor and forward messages along that were misdirected. But I stopped trying to be too friendly about it because I felt like for whatever reason she really didn't want to know me. Two years ago, Katie got a text from a good friend. OMG, Katie, she's writing about you. And sent the link to...

So obviously I clicked the link and was quite amazed to see what she had written. The other Katie Crouch had just published an essay on Ozzy.com, an online magazine. The title was The Other Me. It was about me. Obviously my first impulse was to make sure that I came out looking okay. Like, is she going to make me sound like a jerk? So I read it really fast and then I read it more slowly.

The essay is quick and punchy. In just under 800 words, the other Katie lists a series of misencounters, like going to the video store and learning Katie had rented DVDs on her account.

and the time Katie took two of her prepaid yoga classes. And then she met someone who happened to know Katie and had great things to say about her. She didn't make me look bad. She made me look great. She made me sound friendly and open. But instead of feeling compelled to meet this Katie because of all they shared in common... One of the last lines of her essay is, It's not you. I just don't want to know. What is she doing writing about it?

If you really wanted to pretend that I don't exist, maybe don't write an essay about me in a magazine that has thousands of readers. I knew the minute I finished reading it that I was going to write a rebuttal. I got an email saying, the other Katie Crouch's essay is up, and you should read it. It's funny. This is the other Katie Crouch, who published the first essay, and to my surprise, was very willing to talk about it.

I remember going to Ozzy.com and I had sweaty palms and my heart was beating. I was nervous because it was going to be someone else talking about me, you know, and I clicked on it. And it was, you know, very disarming. Katie's essay was a lot more candid and forthcoming. She talks about her desire to meet her doppelganger. She talks about the rejected emails and also the impact of Katie Crouch's novel,

But it's the end of her essay that really struck this Katie Crouch the most. I felt a little like I had my hackles up because that last line. Which reads, A few years ago she became a mom. Last year I did too. I thought I saw her sitting outside a cafe downtown last week staring into her smartphone. We'd have so much to talk about. The forces of the universe insist that we're two sides of the same coin. But I want a better ending. The writer in her should too.

Such a taunt. It's such a taunt. She definitely put me in my place. Yeah, I felt a little bit chastised. I did. I did reach out.

I was sitting at work and my phone popped up with a notification and said, Katie Crouch wants to be friends on Facebook. Which, as you can imagine, is kind of a trip when your name is Katie Crouch. It's like confusing. What's happening? And I realized it was her. And this is shocking because being friends on Facebook is pretty much the opposite of ignoring someone.

Facebook is sort of the perfect non-reach out, reach out. It's like so easy. You just click a button and say, hey, and then I kind of covered my bases that way, I felt. You know, I Facebook messaged her saying, you know, thanks for writing the essay. It was a great essay. Did she respond to your message?

Yeah, in an equally cool way, in a diplomatic, non-personal way. I loved your essay too. Yeah, I responded briefly because by now I'm feeling kind of burned. I accepted her friend request. I was like, let's just get used to that and then see what happens next. But as the months passed by, there would be no other direct messages or posts between the two Katies.

it seemed like this was it. Two dueling essays for the record and the status of Facebook friends. But really, after all these years living somewhat parallel lives, this is how their story is going to end? We're recording? We are recording. Great. So, Katie, I'm going to hand you over to Katie. Hello. Hi, Katie. Hi, Katie. It's Katie. It's Katie Crouch. Hi.

It's Katie Crouch. So I knew arranging this phone call was going to be risky. Like, where is this conversation going to go? Which does lead to some early awkward moments. I'm feeling strangely nervous. I'm not even strangely, I'm just feeling nervous. I'm totally nervous. This is a big moment. Wow. So where do I start?

It started slow. During the first few minutes, they filled the air with small talk. But of course, there's an elephant in the room, and the question is, who's going to address it first? So I didn't know if something changed after the essays, like I became a real person to you that you might want to know, and before that I was sort of an inconvenience. No, you were never, Katie, you were never an inconvenience. I didn't quite know...

where it would go if we met. And also, I don't know. I wanted to hold on to my individuality. It's Katie Crouch. It was just about me, really. It was all my buried anxieties and neuroses. But it's nice to talk to you now.

I had no idea what your perspective would be on the whole thing. And I was really motivated to write my response. I don't know if you expected that or knew that it was coming, but I just felt like it was inevitable that I had to respond. Well, I was definitely surprised that you wrote an essay, but I wasn't, it made sense, you know, I wasn't like, I mean, I think your essay was a little more barbed than mine was.

So one line in your essay was a little, was particularly prickly to me, and maybe you didn't mean it to be. And that was that you picked up my book, Girls and Trucks, and read it. And then your next line was, I didn't want to like it. And then, period. And then instead of saying, but I did like it, you said something like, you know, you said something else. Yeah.

No, it means I did like it. I just, I felt jealous about it, you know, and you sort of blew me off. So I was like,

I hope this is just terribly written. And I guess I meant for that to be a little bit hanging, like implying, yeah, I grudgingly really liked it. Well, I'm glad you liked it. But you're right. I was sensitive. I am very sensitive about my writing. Even though I pretend not to be. I don't care if she doesn't like it. She doesn't.

I wasn't super sensitive about that because I was just feeling envious and a little hurt. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, well, thanks. I get it. I think the truth is we are really different people. And the proof of that is how we've communicated thus far really differently. Right. Yeah.

But your essay drove it home to me that you, you know, yes, this is a real person and, you know, not just an idea. And it's much harder to say no or to ignore a real person than an idea of a person. So I think that's what changed. And the fact that the essay was so honest and, like, I liked that it was barbed. It makes for good writing if it's honest. The conversation takes a detour here. They give each other a status update.

The first Katie moved to Chicago back in August. The second Katie just had another kid and is actually taking off to Africa for a year. And the first Katie opens up about choosing to have her son on her own. I don't know if you knew that I had him on my own, which I think is completely amazing.

Thank you. I mean, really, like, I had wanted to do that for the longest time and then something else happened. But I think that's, that would have been really crazy if we'd both done that. Oh my gosh. We would have met a lot sooner because it's a very tight group in San Francisco. Yeah. I was actually the organizer for Single Moms by Choice in San Francisco until I moved away. So I was pretty active in that group of amazing kick-ass women. Yeah.

Wow, that's awesome. Yeah. I knew you were better than I was. Oh, stop it. And you play the violin. I'm not perfect, Katie Crouch. You are to me. Oh. Okay, so however you guys want to wrap it up. Wrap it up. It's a tough one. What if we never talk again?

Well, while you're out of the country for a year, maybe we could both reflect on what happens next. A very big thank you to Katie Crouch and to Katie Crouch for sharing their story. This was done in collaboration with Ozzy.com. We love the Ozzy. Check them out. The online magazine that published both Katie's essays. We'll have links to both at SnapJudgment.org.

Katie Crouch works for an educational publisher. She raises a toddler on her own and writes a blog, the solomamaproject.com. While Katie Crouch, the New York Times bestselling novelist, she's currently working on a thriller about doppelgangers. Not really. Maybe. The original score for that story was by Renzo Gorio. It was produced by the one and the only one, Nancy Lopez, because there are no other Nancy Lopezes up in this piece.

Thank you.

Can you even believe it? Look at what we've come through together. If you missed even a moment of today's show, if you're lonely or afraid, subscribe to the amazing Snap Judgment Podcast. It might not fix all your problems, but it won't make them worse. The Snap Judgment Podcast, get them wherever you get your podcasts. And if you want to hear the real deal, the dirt, the dish, follow me on Twitter, on Facebook, Instagram. Don't miss a beat.

It's SnapJudgment.org. Snap is brought to you by the team that would never eat corn chips out of the bag over the sink and wash it down with stale two-day-old soda for breakfast. No self-respecting snapper would ever treat themselves so poorly, except for maybe the Uber producer, Mr. Mark Ristich. Shayna Shealy, Marissa Dodd, Miss Papacini Miller, Anna Sussman, Renzo Gorio, John Facil, Mika Singh, Taylor Ducat,

Leon Morimoto, Flo Wiley, Nancy Lopez, and Regina Berriaco. This is not the news. No way is this the news. In fact, you could luxuriate on a huge, fluffy marshmallow just laying back, taking a bite out of its delicious gooeyness whenever the mood strikes, only to wake up flailing underwater in the pool, vowing to never, ever fall asleep on a flotation device ever again. And you would still, still...

Not be as far away from the news as this is, but this is PR.