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Everything is coming up roses! Worked with two skeins of Artyarns mohair and silk blends, you'll love the deceptively simple variations in this cowl: a simple stockinette stitch complements beaded lace stitches that alternate throughout the pattern. The blushed peach and pink tones of Desert Sand give the shawl a sophisticated look while the elegant Murano glass beads and sequins add a bit of sparkle when the light hits just right. Wear it as is, or wrap it twice for a tighter look. Pair with a grey sweater and a glass of your favorite champagne.
Artyarns was founded in 2002 by Iris Schreier, a celebrated knitwear author. Artyarns fibers are manufactured in the United States, utilizing energy efficient systems and sustainable materials. They hand paint the finest quality raw fibers to create yarn that is a stunning work of art.


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I very rarely post anything here that isn't links but I figured I should while I'm thinking about it. Most days my job is a parade of little interuptions about supposeded problems that demand immediate attention that turn out to be nothing. There is also the terrible work surroundings filled with annoying sounds. But yesterday and today I actually liked my job. I wrote something like 400 lines of code, went to a meeting where the only thing we talked about was how well the project was going and generally wasn't bothered by any other groups. So I'm sure something will come up soon enough that will throw me in a spiral of rage yet again, but for now at least I guess I won't complain.
This is a nonfiction tale of the future.
The three of us had been having a really enjoyable time on our lunch break right up to the point when my money stopped working. Now, if you happen to work anywhere near the downtown mall - say, within a three-block radius - or if you have some other grounds for knowing me, you'll know I'm not the sort of person to let a technological inconvenience ruin their mealtime; but when said occasion is simply made impossible in toto by a malfunction that's, for once, no doing of my own, well—I can't choose except to let ruin have its way with the food and drink I won't be having.
Stuart had played a minor harbinger to all this as soon as we entered the deli and I produced a paper bill from my pocket. "Well, honestly!" he cried, "Is there any need for this arboreal genocide? Calvin, quickly — check your phone. What date does it show? Have we traveled in time to a dark and distant past where civilized men, and donkeys such as our friend here, must carry around deceased flora to trade for goods and services? What century is it, the fourteenth? Is the Plague still upon England?" And so on in really unnecessary detail, straying every now and then from accepted historical chronology, but mostly accurate as far as I could tell. The trouble with Stuart is, he works—and I admit I hesitate for a moment before using such strong language to describe how he occupies space—at a software company whose sales department stopped crying themselves to sleep one night long enough to score a government contract with the Dept. of The Treasury, managing one part or another of the Dept.'s money processing for, as Stuart would put it, the whole county, counties being a questionable if disarmingly charming thing to brag about these days. Naturally, Stuart's involvement in how digital money works—or in the case of my phantom lunch, doesn't work—makes him liable to start a lecture on the topic given just about any provocation. I remember one other time we'd met for lunch in the square and Calvin made a movement like someone about to buy a burrito from a food cart, when Stuart boomed his most database-administrative.
"By jumbo, Calvin, are you in fact considering beaming information from your phone to someone in a suspicious vehicle bearing no bank-certification sticker or technology logo whatsoever? Have you no suspicion, man? No shame? Ah, I see it now; clearly the weight of human existence rests heavy on your shoulders so you're giving away all your earthly possessions to find a more peaceful life in the Andes or some such geography. No, friend, no! Don't give up! Let us show you the civilized life is worth living." Calvin just shrugged his shoulders in that annoying way of his, though it's interesting to note that this time it was much less grating to me, since I wasn't the one he did it at. Even so, I did find it maddening when his next comment came some ten minutes later.
"Mmm, that's a good burrito," he said, as if unaware of how Stuart would take it. The nerve!
Back at the deli, I flashed through the salient parts of the above story in my mind, and so I did my best Calvin shrug: looking straight ahead, knees slightly bent, shoulders going up and forward about three inches, a nice bovine look on my face. It felt slightly flat—lifeless, pedestrian—when I did it, so I flourished a little with a dragged-out "whateeever". I had picked that up from the skater kids by the fountain in the square; you know which and where.
Stuart's reaction was priceless. I don't know how much one typically pays for a good reaction, but this one would've called for an auction and a bank loan, I'm sure. His forehead wrinkled, his jaw unhinged, and I swear his glasses moved in a shocked way of their own.
"What-ever? Now that's a fine sentiment. Beautiful, indeed!"
"Thank you," I said, "I'm happy to delight."
"Honestly—explain yourself." He raised a finger of pause at our counter clerk. "Why would you print money on this fine summer's day instead of using your phone like a normal person; you know, one raised as a child by something other than wolves? I've met your parents many times; your mother's taste in Japanese food could perhaps be described as extravagant, maybe even eccentric, but she's certainly no wild dog."
"If you must know, Stu …"
"I must!"
"… I couldn't get my phone to sync my money today. I clicked and typed and docked and undocked my tender little heart out, but nothing doing. As the clock was ticking, and the patron saint of information-transfer wasn't helping—St. Agatha, is it?—I figured rather than miss Friday lunch with my two best buddies—come here, Calvin—I'd print out some cash on the back of a dry-cleaning receipt. So, what do you say, guardian of digital doubloons? Does my story melt your heart of endangered-whale blubber, and am I off the hook? Scott-free?"
They mumbled in their different ways, and I thought to myself, ah, this is why one has friends—to share moments of small victory with them, to agree when disagreement seems a certain fate, to marvel at the human condition together.
At this point, said condition was such that my stomach growled and my eyes followed, doing whatever the ocular equivalent of growling is—I'll have to consult a website on this later—seeing, as if for the first time, the vast expanse of pastries, sandwiches, salads, soup pots, dinner rolls, yogurts and smoothies, sodas & beers, candybars & fruit, stretching for a good thirty square feet before us. Open refrigerators to our left and right, shelves above and below, a bar in the back, all packed with bags packed with goods packed with nourishment. There was no time to waste; food had to be obtained and consumed promptly. Pause no more, deli employee; we're ready for your white art! A turkey wrap for me, please, with cheddar chips and ice tea, and my immeasurable and undying gratitude.
And it was at this point that my money didn't work. Don't ask me to put it any more plainly than that; it simply didn't. work. The clerk scanned the printout this way and that, typed in the serial number from the bill manually, tapped in and out of the register menus, sighed exasperatedly, raised an eyebrow at me—in short, she did everything she could to get the cursed thing to register with the Dept. of The T.'s computers, but it all amounted to naught but a series of impatient coughs from the growing line of people queued up behind us and an empty plate for yours truly. My freshly acquired money wasn't recognized by the Cloud, that was the long and short of it.
"How now?" I asked Stuart. "Can you treat us to some of your database magic? We promise to be rightly impressed, to the tune of nodding sheepishly and whispering things like well I'll be and how does he do it."
Stuart coughed, which struck me as a purely tactical move, given the excellent weather we'd been enjoying and his generally admirable health.
"Are you sure you didn't use this money before? That's usually it."
I had to take a few seconds to compose myself, having come quite uncomposed following his idiotic question. "Stuart", I said, meaning to start with something he'd easily understand, "it would take a barbarian—nay, an automaton—of unprecedented unfamiliarity with the very basics of our currency system to attempt to use the same bill twice. If one didn't know that this digital money is marked as SPENT in the Cloud database immediately following the transaction, one would hardly be able to function in society at all. I wonder, in fact, if one without such knowledge would even be able to do the more basic stuff of living, like opening doors, or tying one's shoes, or sending one's grandmother a nice Christmas letter listing one's good deeds for the year. So yes, I'm quite sure that I haven't used this particular serial-number bill before; as sure as I am of the fact that I'm not an anvil and that water doesn't flow upward, unless you push it very hard."
Stuart grumbled. I'm sure he had spent the whole length of my explanation thinking up a way to blame the affair on my printing the money instead of just beaming it off my phone, but that clearly wouldn't have changed anything, since typing the serial number in made no difference and all that. One thing I will say about Stuart, he is usually right about how it is that things work in his particular line of sitting-about-the-office-and-staring-at-the-computer, when he limits the discussion to the how, that is. He's a man of conscience, a gentleman of intellect, and a nerd's nerd, an ass though he may be otherwise.
"What error are you getting?" he asked the clerk. "Serial number not found? Invalid entry? Server busy? Horsemen of Apocalypse nearing, what?"
She looked at me, communicating some kind of unpleasant emotion, but I waved her on—yes, yes, what was the error?
"Couldn't process transaction," she said. "That's all."
"Bah!" Stuart said, and I agreed thus far. "What a gaggle of turkeys must have written this damn code, if it's gaggles turkeys come in, and not broods. Could that message be any less helpful? Do they pay for their error reporting per character, or something? Hullo, Lord Kensington, I've a telegram for your lordship; it must've cost the gentle sender a pretty penny, coming in at a staggering six words of length as it does."
In so short a time, Stuart's voice had reached that particular pitch at which I usually part with empathy as he thunders at the rotten world we live in etc. I stepped aside and gave the clerk the look she has asked for; a tight-lipped nod with closed eyes, that shared, solemn understanding that there is a royal blowhard in our midst.
Stuart went on in a vein like, "If the man's hard-earned, contractually guaranteed, government-backed, state-of-the-art- database-driven digital money simply stops to work one day, hasn't he the right to a more helpful explanation? Maybe something that helps him find what, if anything, he's done wrong, perhaps. Maybe there's been a simple oversight—no one's perfect, not I, not my friend here, not the Secretary of The D. of The T. Maybe nothing is unexpectedly wrong - maybe The Cloudmoney service is unavailable due to scheduled system maintenance. We can live with that. Why not speak to a man as if he were a man - none of this couldn't nonsense. Could, of course, but didn't, and why? Whence comes satisfaction in a time such as this? Whence comes reassurance? If this is all you have for us, why have anything at all? If this is your error message, what do you have for justice?"
"Flocks," Calvin said.
We all turned to see him seated in the corner. He had delivered his wisdom through a giant bite of what looked like mozzarella & tomato on focaccia, though the latter could have easily been ciabatta with olive oil; I was more than six feet away. Calvin returned to his reading, hunched over his phone at a table he shared with two young women and three small children.
"It's flocks turkeys come in," he said.
"A fwock of tuwkeys," added one of the children.
At which Stuart opened his mouth, then let out half a sigh, then turned back and paid for my lunch as was the case once or twice a week.

subset: commoncrawl


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Our Ochrana bike bag is designed for the serious cyclists who want to get their exceptional bike to their destination in one piece and in prime condition to perform. The lightweight (just 5kg) and unassuming design minimises airline fees or the necessity of a huge hire car and - unlike a hardcase - can be squeezed down to fit in smaller spaces for storage.
The comprehensive padding – comprising of large protective pockets on each side for your wheels and a 10-piece High Density EVA foam frame pad set to prevent scratches and dings to the tubes - ensures that even the most precious cargo arrives pristine. Additionally, quick release blocks for the fork and rear triangle protect frame alignment during transit, and three internal zipper pockets – one for skewers and tools, one for the seatpost and saddle, and a third clear pocket for riding kit – keep everything neatly protected.
The high quality 800 Denier Nylon heavy duty construction and robust YKK zippers means that the bag is hard-wearing and built to last, trip after trip, year after year. Finally, an adjustable and padded shoulder strap disconnects quickly and stows in an external zipper pocket for easy access upon arrival. The bag measures 126cm long by 26cm wide, and 76cm high when in use, but can easily be folded smaller for storage.


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Locket with Note Inside
Posted November 7, 2013 by EmmalineBride | ♥ 18 Comments
Happy Thursday, loves! OK, so you've probably heard of a photo locket, but have you heard of a locket with note inside? Instead of a traditional photo (or in addition to), you can have a special message included on the inside. This twist on the traditional locket necklace makes a great gift for the bride, Maid of Honor, or Bridesmaid. It also works perfectly as a proposal item. Read on to find out more… including a special surprise thanks to Peachtree Lane Jewelry. :) Enjoy!
Tags: filigree > hidden message locket > locket > locket with note > message locket > note > note inside locket > personalized > secret message locket
Air Mail Wedding: 18 Handmade Ideas Sent with Love
Posted November 22, 2011 by EmmalineBride | ♥ 6 Comments
Email allows anyone to connect instantly, but nothing can compare to the sweet sentiment of a handwritten note or heartfelt letter from a loved one. That's why we love air mail wedding ideas from invitations to save the dates, favors, stationery, and everything in-between. There is something sweetly simple about a handwritten note or tag, particularly around the holidays. Today, we're sharing 18 air mail wedding ideas you will love, beginning with an invitation by Jack and Jill Wedding which ties in the air mail idea beautifully, with a postcard reply for guests to send back with love. Enjoy!
Tags: according to she > air mail > airmail > another donkey design > calligraphytzl > cartale > courtney talbot > cutie pie company > extase > Handmade Wedding > handwritten > jack and jill wedding > k is for calligraphy > lauren elise crafted > letter > love letter > marolsha > mini haus > modern crush > mysc > note > post > postcard > retro nana > serendipity: beyond design > two for joy paper > wedding invitation


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So, tumblr is dumb, I've been posting things to my usual tumblr at http://falsefiction.tumblr.com but somehow I posted to this one yesterday. This is pretty much a placeholder from when I first signed up.
I also noticed almost everyone who follows me follows the wrong account. I don't blame any of you, I blame tumblr. When you forget the e, I guess you forget how to do a lot of things.
If you wanna see stuff, please follow me on that account. (also, I hate that I can't move posts between the blogs, tumblr is kinda of shitty for actually doing things I guess.
If you read all of this, you deserve a prize, and I'm gonna go with this:
That's right you guys. Carl Sagan. Something for everyone.


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Minnesota's biggest companies healing after the Great Recession
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Minnesota's biggest companies are heading down the path toward recovery after the Great Recession.
"These are pretty overall strong results for Minnesota companies," said David Vang, chair of the Finance Department at the University of St. Thomas Opus School of Business.
Vang attributes the rebound in manufacturing employment to a weak dollar, which has made U.S. goods more price competitive globally, and to the rapid and deep job cuts most manufacturers made in late 2008 and early 2009 as the recession took hold.
"I think they had gotten to the point where they could not cut anymore," Vang said.
Read more: http://www.startribune.com/business/120494724.html
Originally published: 04/23/2011, Star Tribune


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- Matt K
- Nrw- Aachen
- Germany
This conversation is closed.
Not innovating to zero, but to plus! (The new housebuilding standard: Energy-Plus-House)
Instead of innovating to Zero, there is a new concept for house building architecture which allows to produce more energy than to consume. The "Energy-Plus-House" standard combines thermal insulation standard (known from low energy houses) with renewables e.g. solar-panels, mini-windmills, heat pump and a battery storage. For this reason the "Energy-Plus-House" is also able to provide energy for mobility e.g. electric bikes or cars. A pilot project has been started by the German government at the of 2011 which will be the obligatory German house building standard by 2020.
The idea is to turn the "Energy-Plus-House" into a common global standard for all humans who live in the temperate and frigid climate zone.
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Matt KOct 9 2013: just to share a little bit more of what concrete solutions of the "Energy-Plus-House" (Plusenergiehaus) may look like; the link below provides a good summary about technologies (e.g. Aerogels for thermal-insulation, pv, mini bhkw....) and energy consumption per household and also some pricing.
For everyone who can understand German (sorry but the presentation is too long for translation);
Showing single comment thread. View the full conversation.


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Alberto Del Rio won Royal Rumble 2011 by last eliminating Santino Marella. Other participants in the match include Alex Riley, Big Show, Booker T, Bray Wyatt, Chavo Guerrero, Chris Masters, CM Punk, Curtis Axel, Daniel Bryan, David Otunga, Dolph Ziggler, Drew McIntyre, Ezekiel Jackson, Great Khali, Heath Slater, Hornswoggle, Jack Swagger, John Cena, John Morrison, JTG, Justin Gabriel, Kane, Kevin Nash, Kofi Kingston, Mark Henry, Mason Ryan, R Truth, Randy Orton, Rey Mysterio, Sheamus, Ted DiBiase, Tyler Reks, Tyson Kidd, Vladimiz Kozlov, Wade Barrett, William Regal, Yoshi Tatsu and Zack Ryder.
"If I was in complete control of TNA, I would do anything, if WWE right now was going left; I would go right. And if they started going right; I would go left. So that's what I would do. I would try to be the complete opposite of WWE. That's just my opinion. I don't have millions invested. I don't make tons and tons of money as an upper management guy. I don't go in focus groups. I'm not part of that whole research team. I, this is just some blue-collared guy from Brooklyn that wrestled for a living that talks about wrestlers now giving you my opinion. Doesn't mean I'm right. I'm probably wrong. But that's just what I would do as a wrestling fan and a former wrestler; is try to be, look I think our show last night, it looked awesome."
- Taz discussing how he would run TNA if he was in charge backstage
Another person that has been gaining some power backstage in TNA is Taz. Aside from being the voice of Impact Wrestling, he also has been helping out with the creative department. Taz was also instrumental in the return of Tommy Dreamer to the front office.
Steve Austin revealed that he is interviewing TNA announcer Taz for an upcoming episode of his popular podcast series.
"....and I'm STILL NOT buying TNA nor would I ever want to affect the team of Mike Tenay and Taz. They have great chemistry and as I have said before they do a great job with what is provided them on their monitor."
Former ECW stars Lance Storm and Taz took to Twitter to make fun of unlikely TNA star Norv Fernum.
Since his contract only has a certain amount of dates on there, Taz was allowed to miss an episode of Impact Wrestling.


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Army Of OneI am an Army of One.Not a part of your Hypocritical Army.I stand against you,In this war against Individuality,Your army grows as,More AreoZombies are born.It grows by the second.While mine stays one,Because anybody that has an ounce of Individuality,Will fight you alone,I stand my ground and draw my weapon.As you keep marching knowing,That you can stand to lose a few as you keep getting more,Soldiers by the second,I fire into the crowd and break a mask.The persons mask falls to the ground,He looks around and starts to disappear as he found his Individuality.I fire more and more trying to get them to realize.More masks break and more people start to disappear.But some grow new masks and start to march again.I notice some breaking when I dont shoot them.Must be the others I say to myselfA roar emits from the crowdDONT TALK TO YOURSELF! it yelled at me.You cant tell me what to do I yell back as I volley more bu
Bloody LoveHey Baby lets paint this town red,With this blood, for you, I've shed.I have given you buckets of it over time,Through the work I do to keep you fed,Or through the pain I have suffered with you.And yet you don't Paint this town red with me,You take the buckets and pour them down the drain,As if to say I am not good enough for you,As if to say I don't deserve to be with you,And yet those buckets of red,Filled to the brim that I have shed,Keep coming for I am to blind,To see you pouring them out,All I see is my love for you,And all I see is your need for red,As I give and give and give,You take and take and take,Until I am a husk and you pour the last drop of me,Straight down the drain,As if I never existed.
Its never the AnswerThis goes out to all the people,Who are like who I used to be.Who think that there is only one route,One scary
Route.To those who's life's just seem as if they,Couldn't get any worse,Lower,Less important
This goes out to whoever needs a friend,A person to hold them tight,Or that someone who will listen
A hug to the hug less.A hand to hold for those who are alone.And a friend who is there for you always.Your never alone,Just remember,Others have been where you are,And now stand proud,Tall,Happy even.Never throw something as beautiful as lifeAway for,You never know what good tomorrow might bring.
Free Writing"All you need is love" - The BeetlesWhat bullshit, I mean if all you need is love then everybody would find it, everybody would be happy and there would be no thoughts of suicide and the world would be a happy place wouldn't it? Well I had love, I still have it in my heart, as does she, but yet there is something stopping us, because cultures are different I guess I don't understand, But I cant get mad at her, I will never be mad at her
I mean I have no right to be mad at her, she thought she was "Curing" something when all she was doing is "severing ties", not permanently as I hope to never lose her friendship, but she thinks if these ties are "Cut" then she can save me from waiting 6 months for a word that isn't going to come, the pain every night realizing she isn't coming on again and the sleepless nights. And for that I thanked her? I thanked her for the happiness she had given me every day, I thanked her for every bit of love she gave me, and I thanked he
My Angels Heaven"Well, How Are Things In Heaven?"I asked my angel today,She started to ramble about how funny I was,Calling her work place heaven,And saying that instead of heaven,It was more neutral,She had fun but it was tough,And all I saw was my beautiful angel in front of me,I smile when she talks about her friends at the office,Frown when she talks about the boss,And kiss her lightly when she finishes,She smiles and blushes as she looks at me,"Why did you kiss me?"She asked looking down in embarrassment,I smile as I lift her head to look her in the eyes,"Because i want you to think of this place as your heaven"I say lightly kissing her again,As I pull away I smile and ask,"Now then, how are things in heaven?"She blushed, smiled, and leaned in to whisper,"Perfect... Just perfect"
The Devil's Deal Dealing with the Devil (1)The Devil Looked up at Heaven and called up,"Hey God" he said menacingly "Wanna make a deal?" he asked,God looked down from heaven and wondered what he was up to."What did you have in mind?" he asked from his throne in heaven,"Ahhh well I think that I can make one of your little Followers, renounce you",He said followers with disgust."Why would I want that deal?" God asked sitting and pondering the deal,"Well if I win I get a soul from heaven, and if you win you can take one of your precious children from hell" he said knowing he could win."Well I want to know more meet me in the neutral zone" God said teleporting to the neutral zone,"I have got you now" The Devil said as he teleported as we
The Window Of My SoulWhen I look out of my window you know what I see?I see busy people running,People driving down the highway at 100 MPH,Just to get to work on time to get money to live,Sometimes I just close my eyes when I look out my window,For the window into my soul is an even better view.I see the sides of me I don't let others see,There is my child side,Sitting carefree,Nothing could bother him,He watched the towers go down and wondered why daddy was cryingHe watched Saturday morning cartoons without a care.Then there is the pain inside of me,This black stain upon my soul,It will be there for ever,But luckily I have her to help me forget about that stain,There is the worrier,He worries about everything from money,To wondering if a friend is ok after not hearing from them for ten minutes.Then there is a part of me that isn't even me
I want her to be thereMore then I want to be there,But I just wonder what wonderful thing I did to deserve her as a part of me,Even a part of
Burning For YouI sit here watching the world deteriorate before my eyes,Watching you fall to the ground as it splits in half,You hit the non-existent earth,And shatter into pieces.Your atoms flying everywhere,And all I did was watch,Watch as the person I loved killed themselves slowly,And when you split I fall as well.I fall to the heat of the world,Feeling myself burning,Perhaps this is my punishment,To burn for eternity for.Not speaking up when I saw you hurt yourself,For when I saw you dive headfirst into your next bottle,For pushing you closer to the edge,For not stopping you when I had the chance.And now I feel the flesh burn off my bones,Slowly melting into the earth,Muscles as well,My skeleton falls into the hell hole I have made for myself.For hell is any world without you,The world comes back together,Encasing my body in the earth,Leaving me to my own vices as I stay here burning,Destined to burn forever without you.
I Fell Asleep On Her Againi have always wondered why one needed sleep,it cant be explained by science,it cant be deciphered with psychology,it isn't logical to waste a third of your life away,and yet most people do it without even thinking about it,most people just go with the flow and waste their lives,but not me,i don't do that,i stay up as long as i can tell i just pass out,because the one i love sleeps when i walk,and she walks when i sleep,i dont expect her to stay up for me,because she needs her sleep,but me,i try my hardest to stay up all hours of the night just for her,and i love it when we get time together,but sometimes my body rebels and says,"You need sleep now sleep",and i fall asleep on my keyboard,dreaming of her,thinking of her,just wishing to be with her,and yet when i wake up i feel sad because,in my absence i hurt her,she feels like i fall asleep because i am bored,when that isn't the truth at all,the truth is i want to be with her so bad,that my body hates it when
The UsedWhy do you feel like you have to lie?Why can't you say what you truly feel inside?Can't you see that there's no reason to hide from me,whatever your true feelings happen to be?To me, you have no obligation,I know where I stand.I know I'm just an opportunityhere to take away the sting of lonliness,willing to be your toy,at least for a little while.I have needs too,ones only you can fulfill,so come lay with me,and I'll kiss your troubles away.I don't mind being used,at least that's what I tell my heart.It's happened before,but then I was stupid enoughto think of it as and wish for more.I'm wiser now.I know not to expect or hope for anything else.So please, don't bullshit me,don't make this into anything more than what it is.There's no point lying,I know you don't see me as anythingbut a friend with added benefits.
Live Through WordsA poet is a strange person,They live through words,Words of love and fire,Words of pain and tears.You won't find them with your eyesYou have to use your ears.They may be quiet, they may whisper.They may be loud and raucous.But if they truly areA poet, they all haveSomething veryImportant to say.They are a morbid collectionA collection of bleeding hearts,The saddest flower of all.So often passed by.They gather in the shadows,Won't you take them home?The rejected ones,With an archaic pastime.We are the lost love language,With our words on fire.We are still here,And we have more to say.More to say than flowers,More to say than chocolates,More to say than hugs or kisses,When we say, "I love you,"It means more,Because we,Unlike youLive through words.
I Am.I am the silhouetted figure standing alone in the dead yellow glow of the single street lamp's flickering, dying light. The cold wind blows the debris along the cracked street, shifting the image but not the feeling. No one will fix it. No one is even here. I stand alone keeping company to the tiny, hopeful sprouts emerging from the long jagged cracks in the ancient cement, starting their lives in the place that others have died. I stay with them, watching over them to make sure their tranquil growth is not disturbed. Neither of us have anywhere else to go, so why not stay? Every second spent is not wasted because it is spent doing something. I am an outcast because of my wasting of time, because if time is money, then I am all too rich. I spend the rest of my time making sure that the new growing sprouts live long enough to be able to make their own time. How did it happen that the outcast from one society became the salvation of another?I am the friend of the darkness,
Eternal AdversityAnother fight,another day,and once again the feelingof utter loneliness,when by yourselfyou confrontan undefeatable world.Waking up in haste,racing despite languor,moving without thinking,as every step takenbecomes even harderthan the one before.Being hit every day,where it most hurts,where it most aches,where you can't heal.And yet again,after tumbling down,wretchedly wounded,quivering ... you rise up,barely careeningon your weakened feet.By mere instinct,you put up your fiststo find yourself against the wallwith nowhere to gonowhere to flee,even leaving your dignity behindwouldn't help you survive.But then you realiseyou're the one against the wall,but also the one who holds the sword.The war isn't over,The war isn't lost,although you still wonder,Am I worthy to win this war?Will this suffering ever stop?Or should I give in...for this...To come to an end?
Let's let.Let's commit a hypocrisy.Let's fuck the world together.Let's commit an atrocity.I refuse to believe that my fate lies in the hand of any other man besides me.Why should I?God. Maybe yes.But God is such an abstract idea like love that its hard to believe in either all the time.Let's die for today,and live tomorrow.Or let's live today,and die tomorrow.Either way, death's inevitable. So why fear it? Let's face it.Let's sing and dance,and fuck life by chance.Let's say that there are no chances,there is no luck, there is no fate,but only Man.And Man is destiny, and Man is chance,and Man is fate, and Man is luck.Let's not believe we are powerless.Let's just pretend, for your god's sake, let's just pretend that man exists.That man is a man and not a puppet.Let's just decide. Decide today. What is real and what is not?Is god? Is life? Is consciousness or dream reality?Let's cry, and let it all out, I say.Let's cry, and let it all out.To be or not to be,that never was
The RevolutionThe revolution will not be televised, it will not be sanitized, desensitized. No, this revolution will be live, living, breathing, everything worth fighting for. The revolution - will be - poeticized.This revolution will not be caught on cameras, will not be polarized by the media. It dies standing on its bare feet before it is forced to fall on knees not willing to bend. The revolution is much more likely to be found on the run. It is subject to no one.Our masterless words are the burning bush of this big monopoly, big money society. They are setting fire to the cities and moving the mass millions of the consumer culture.[This revolution is not an ist]And while capitalism owns the owners, we will be truly human freedom will dance on the tips of our tongues and spill out onto the streets, pounding the pavement to the beat of our feet, as we march proudly, hand in hand to the edge of the abyss. Joan will sing as Emma dances.Let us trade bondage for vagabondage, trade l
Little one. I'm here.Little one. You can stop shivering now.Little one. You can stop crying now.Little one. Believe in me. I can be your faith.I can be your hope. I can be your miracle.Little one. You can start smiling now.Little one. You can start laughing now.Little one. Believe in me. I can be your protection.I can be your guiding light. I can be your strength.I can be your miracle.Little one. You can wake up happy now.Little one. You can be full now.Little one. Believe in me. I can be your guardianI can be your friend. I can be your smile.I can be your miracle.Little one. Please wait for me.Little one. It won't be long.Little one. Have hope.Little one. Believe in me.
I AmI look up at the sky and this is what I see:I see rumbling purple warning us allI see a clear blue giving us a new lightI see a blazing red burning up our soulsI see a rustic orange taking it slow, keeping it warmI see a deep deep black protecting us the whole night throughI see the lightest shade of pink welcoming us inI see a watery green giving us something to dance forI see the purest white giving contrast to all the restI see a steely grey with a hope wrapped up insideI look down at the ground and this is what I feel:I feel a warmth coming up through my solesI feel the squelch of the mud between my toesI feel the spring of the grass keeping me upI feel the security of the rocks holding me steadyI feel the life in the moss saturating up my legsI feel the cool lap of the tide sweeping me forwardI feel the icy cold of the snow numbing meI feel the knowledge of my existence reminding me with every stepI look all around me and this is what I hear:
Betrayal of Morphine She was sitting beside the small boy's bed when he opened his shadowy eyes. The first thing he noticed was her hair: it was golden and glowing faintly. He couldn't remember if hair normally did that or not, but it hurt him to look at her; she, like sunlight, burned his eyes in the darkness. In the dim room, in his numb thoughts, the girl's hair looked like a halo, and he imagined he saw her unfold wings and fly away, but then he blinked and she was still there. The first things the girl noticed were his eyes. They were dark and clouded with pain, flashing like a stormy sky or an emergency light on a sinking ship. They flickered like incandescents losing power; his pupils dilated as he blinked, struggling to focus on her. She looked at the IV meter indicating the level of failing platelets and morphine, and the machine hummed as she watched the blood swirl unfaithfully.
The UsedI look at all the lonely people,And what do I see?I see the loner sitting in the corner.I see the stoner passed out on the floor.I see the person contemplating suicide with a gun to his head.I see the nice guy who was waiting for his friend through the cold harsh night.Freezing himself to death on the bench cold and tired.What I see are the people who need to be with somebody.But aren't because they can't.People don't want them.People don't listen to them.People use them.I look at all the lonely people.And I see you and me.
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.Books filled with black letters,etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.Veering us from the big picture...the one we fail to paint ourselves.Our fists much too busy with fights,that we are bound to lose.Too occupied in line waiting,for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...but we only enclose each other in small roomswith nothing but old laptops.Missing keys,Oh!How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...Which letter could it be?To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.There's no break for this lonely man,heaving every breathe of stale airinto my overused lungs...Living in confined walls of fleshheld up with brittle paper-mache bones.Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
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iPhone - iPod
Tap Paradise Cove Answers for iPhone - iPodHome / iPhone - iPod /
Game Questions & Answers (Q&A) service lets you ask questions about video games for game consoles or PC games. So ask your Tap Paradise Cove question for iPhone - iPod and get answers from real gamers or answer questions and share your insights and experience with the rest of the gaming community.
- Developer: Pocket Gems, Inc.
- Publisher: Pocket Gems, Inc.
- Genre: Simulation General
- Release Date: Mar 7, 2012
- ESRB: Not Set
Question & Answers
Shifting loyalties: Divide and conquer
Go into my challenges and it says collect prize,when i click on it it says: You need to complete achievement shifting loyalties Divide and conquer 2/2 to claim rewards... Where is it?
Answer from: Jody
Shifting Loyalties is a visiting ship. You need to fight it. It looks like Beth's Cruiser and it is easy to beat.
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text:
1. Melt and cool chocolate.
2. Cream butter and sugar. Add chocolate and vanilla and mix together. Add 1 egg at a time, beating on medium speed of the mixer (4 minutes per egg).
3. Pour filling into pie shell.
4. Top with whipped cream as desired. Garnish with chocolate shavings.
5. Refrigerate several hours before serving.
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Categories > Anime/Manga > Yami no Matsuei
Wish2 Reviews
Same time each year, Watari makes a wish. [Watari/Tatsumi]
Author: Rhea Logan. That would be me. ::nodnod::
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Watari/Tatsumi
Genre: Let's settle for fluff with a wistful undertone ;)
Standalone. Completed.
Summary: Same time each year, Watari makes a wish.
If you treat my little series of one-shots linearly, this would follow Brittle Glass. Just mentioning that, since the stories have no real connection besides the characters. :) Enjoy! (in regards to the canon timeline, this is post-manga, of course. :))
by Rhea Logan
"You're the last person I would expect to find in a place like this."
Perched on the edge of the rooftop, Watari Yutaka smiled gently at the sound of his partner's voice.
"Not too much of a thoughtful type, am I?"
Tatsumi's steps were silent as he moved across the roof and stood by the blonde Shinigami's side. "Actually, you're so many things I shouldn't be surprised."
The scientist gave a light chuckle. When its quiet yet brilliant sound faded, there was still a small smile of acknowledgment playing in the corners of his lips. Watari sat still, staring at something ahead of him through half-closed, distant eyes.
Tatsumi shuffled his feet, habitually giving his tie a light pull, then he fell motionless for a short while before he made up his mind and seated himself next to his partner. He rested his chin in his upturned palm, mirroring Watari's stance.
"Is everything alright?" he asked at length.
That well-known though usually well-covered concern in the Shadow Master's voice seemed almost palpable. Watari's eyes lit up with an ever so tiny twinkle of amusement at the recognition of that tone. "Yes, yes. Alright as always. I was just..." he paused, then reached back with his hand and pulled at his ribbon. A fall of golden hair came loose, spilling in cascades across his back and around his arms. A few stray strands bounced with a life of their own in front of the scientist's face, partly obscuring it from view.
"Just being a little sentimental, you could say," he finished after a breath.
Tatsumi gave a small nod. "Any particular reason? If I may ask."
Watari tilted his head, catching a glimpse of Tatsumi's face. The gentle wind ruffled the Shadow Master's hair, soft dark strands now playing around his features in a curious hide-and-seek with his glasses. He found himself captured by that dance, enthralled by the calm look of near-serenity painted there. He forgot the question altogether until Tatsumi turned his head to face him and Watari's warm, amber eyes met a pair of pools of sapphire sky.
"Ah... yes, well. Sort of," he said as he caught a naughty strand that seemed intent upon getting in his mouth. Truth be told, he gave it a silent thanks for providing a little distraction as he swallowed around a sudden dryness in his throat. "It's thirty years today."
He felt Tatsumi's gaze fix on him; a minute shift of stance rendered him still, but no words came.
"Since I died," he finished lightly in a smooth, almost casual tone as though he spoke about the weather, or something of equally small significance.
Tatsumi turned his gaze back to the shadow-wrapped landscape spreading wide before them. Most of the lights had long since gone out. The late hour always came to the aid of those in need of a quiet place to rest and think without being disturbed. Away from the commotion of the day and the curious eyes, everything looked different, even Watari.
Though not entirely uncomfortable, the scientist found the silence stretching between them just a tad too long. He leaned back, supporting himself on his elbows and lifted his head, shaking the rich gold locks off his shoulders. He looked up. The jet-black sky was dotted with a million stars, each shining bright with a life of their own.
"I had that thought once," Watari said at last, breaking the stillness of air. "We still see the light of those stars that are no longer there."
Tatsumi looked at him curiously, one elegant eyebrow climbing into his hairline.
"It's like us," Watari continued, heedless of that faintly surprised look. "We're dead, but to others here, and to ourselves, we're real. Dead stars with a lingering glow." He pointed at the sky with his finger. "Do you know how some of them die? They implode. Under the weight of their own gravity. Ironic, isn't it?"
Tatsumi's face took on a wistful, slightly sorrowful look. He gave a small nod.
"Tatsumi?" Watari lay on his back, folding his hands under his head. "Do you ever wonder what it would have been like? If you didn't die."
Tatsumi turned to face him, searching for words. His hand wandered up to his face and he shifted his glasses, closing his eyes as his fingers brushed their edge, then rested briefly against the bridge of his nose.
"I mean," Watari's eyes made a slow study of the older Shinigami, "what would your life have turned out to be like? All those little things."
"Who knows? Those little things in life change the course of the future. Maybe it would have turned out to be better after all?" Tatsumi said and his face softened. "We can't find out anymore. Now we have what we have."
Watari nodded. "No point getting worked up over something you can't change, right?" The small smile faded and he let his head roll to the side. "I still wonder, though. So every year I come here and make myself a promise. By the same time next year I'll have done something I've always wanted to do."
For a silent moment Tatsumi was still again. "What was the first one you made?" he asked.
"I promised myself I'd survive."
Tatsumi looked down. He brought his hands together in front of his face, fingers interlacing and for a moment it seemed as though he had drifted away, somewhere to the land of promises and unfulfilled wishes of his own.
Watari pulled himself up and gave his shoulders a light shrug. "It's getting cold here," he said, rubbing his arms. He pulled his lab coat tighter around himself against the slowly growing chill.
"It is indeed." Tatsumi rose and extended his hand to his partner. His eyes swept slowly around the rooftop, taking in the peaceful calm of the night. He took a deep breath. "Have you made your promise this year?" he asked evenly, though with a hint of hesitation, just an undertone.
Watari took the offered hand and pushed up to his feet. "Yes. Right before you came, in fact." He looked down at their hands joined together, then brought his gaze up to meet Tatsumi's eyes and smiled. "This year happens to be one of particular significance, though. I made a wish. And I promised myself that I'll tell that special person how important they are."
Tatsumi's blue eyes traced the contours of his partner's slender frame against the dark sky. He stole a quick glance at their hands but did not pull away. "That's a good plan," he said evenly.
Tatsumi's hand was warm against his skin. Not all too conscious of his actions now that he found himself poised against a choice whether or not to act on the wish of his heart, Watari gave that hand a light squeeze. "You think so?"
Tatsumi's lips twitched in a smile. "I do."
"Well then." Decision made, Watari brought Tatsumi's hand up and caught it in both of his. He looked up at the starlit sky and took a deep breath, then laughed. "How did I know I'd have no words when it came to that?"
Looking slightly puzzled, Tatsumi regarded the blonde Shinigami with a curious glance.
"Oh well. It should still count if I show, not tell, right?"
Tatsumi opened his mouth to respond but before any word made its way out he found himself caught off guard by a feather-soft touch of warm, gentle lips brushing against his.
His heart pounded hard in his chest when Watari pulled back. Letting go of Tatsumi's hand, he whispered, "Promise kept."
He took a step back, about to turn, but Tatsumi caught his arm in gentle yet firm hold. "Yutaka?"
Watari's cheeks flushed ever so slightly and he looked at Tatsumi, half expectant, half fearful of what was to come. He had not the mind to think of what he had done; just the heart that knew its wish too well. "Yes?"
Breath caught in his throat and before he knew, he was pulled into those strong arms, Tatsumi's hand sliding around his neck. Their lips met, probing, timid at first yet with rising courage as seconds stretched long between the warmth of their shared breath. Swept away on a tidal wave of that warmth and a sudden rush of blood through his veins, Watari's mind gave lead to his heart. His arms wrapped around Tatsumi, lips seeking lips, offering release from the burning need to be close and fuelling it anew. That feeling grew into heat that coursed through him and left him lightheaded, happy and out of breath.
As Tatsumi pulled back and their lips parted, Watari couldn't stop the long suppressed burning behind his eyes. He kept them closed against the tears and smiled.
The Shadow Master stood still for what seemed merely a second before a sudden thought urged him to pull the blonde scientist close to him again. Arms wrapped around Watari's shoulders, he whispered against his cheek.
"Maybe it's selfish of me, but I don't resent your death. Because you're here."
Words were lost to him as Watari sank into that embrace, absorbing the Shadow Master's warmth and comfort he offered so freely. It settled deep within him, tender yet strong, filling him with peace he hadn't known for decades. He ran his slender hand through Tatsumi's dark hair, the other stroking the small of his back. "It matters to you?" he asked quietly, voice thick with emotion.
Tatsumi's lips brushed against the soft skin of Watari's neck. "It does. You do."
August 19th 2005
In loving memory of my Father (1938 - 1993)


text: Analyst Michael Pachter with US investment house Wedbush has told CVG.com that he expects price cuts in all the major consoles to come soon, led by the Xbox 360 and Kinect. "We believe that Microsoft is in the driver's seat on pricing, and believe that the company may consider a price cut for the core console plus Kinect to under $300 in June, which could allow it to extend its monthly sales lead throughout 2011. Pachter notes that the other competing consoles have not been doing as well, but that they will be forced to follow along. "A console price cut from Microsoft would almost certainly prompt its competitors to follow suit, and we are confident that by holiday 2011, all three consoles will be at least $50 cheaper than they are today." The Xbox 360 has been the top selling US console for most of 2010, until it was ...Read More →


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Mystical Photography by Frederic Larson
Magic of the Bay Area captured by Chronicle photographer, Fred Larson
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New surf website filled with images such as these and a collection of Instragram photographs. http://instagram.com/p/Z9pJjTg_lb/ It seems every town has at least one balloon lady. [Read More]


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Venue Review: Deejai Thai Restaurant
The Charlotte Observer
613 Providence Road
In the elegant nook that once was Salute, near the Manor in Myers Park, a Thai place called Deejai (say "deejye," meaning happy) is careful not to assume diners know Thai food.
Hence the menu descriptions, which are usually wonderfully explicit ("This is a spicy stir fry curry" or "skewered & char-grilled lean sliced chicken breast or beef filets marinated overnight with curry") and occasionally cryptic ("This is enough for one hungry appetite to share"). Ingredients are specified and sauces are noted as sweet or spicy.
Friendly greetings and frequent check-backs from servers also aim to make the cuisine approachable. A spare décor, relying on subtle pattern and color and a few simple pieces of artwork rather than distracting color and costuming, helps keep focus on the food as well.
That does put pressure on the food to be excellent, and on servers to be up to the task of explaining preparations and ingredients, and here, Deejai proves less consistent.
Omjai Budsri (she goes by Jai, and pronounces that "jay") and her husband own the place, and Budsri's mother, Maneejun Sihavong, is chef. Sihavong is from Isan, in northeastern Thailand, but the menu includes dishes from several regions, and jasmine rice - not the glutinous rice preferred in the north and northeast - comes on the side of most entrees.
Best of what we had were lighter dishes, from a not-hot salmon curry to sliced beef in sweet sauce with broccoli (dubbed Mountain Beef) to a truly marvelous larb (ground chicken with roasted rice powder and a housemade chile sauce, served with both cabbage and lettuce leaves to roll the meat in).
Least successful were dishes described as having heat that did not: the chile lime soup called tom yum; the coconut broth known as tom kha; "drunken noodles" marked with two asterisks; and namsod, which is ground pork with chiles and ginger. Some dishes simply suffered from execution problems, such as the thick-skinned, coarse potstickers fried heavily, and a sea bass special (with a well-done ginger-herb sauce) cooked to toughness on one side.
Budsri, whose family has run Thai restaurants in the Atlanta area for years, says she's working to better assess diners' desires on spiciness. "I'm trying to take the stars (denoting heat) out of the menu and have servers talk to guests (and ask): Have they been to Thailand... do they really like it hot?" She says the kitchen is happy to oblige.
But she doesn't want to make people think all Thai food is spicy - and indeed, several dishes are not, especially at Deejai. Pad thai, the well-known dish of thin rice noodles pan-fried with egg and choice of meat, served with bean sprouts, peanuts and more, appears here in an even sweeter form than usual, and is tasty as long as you're expecting that. And a dessert of sticky rice with mango and vanilla ice cream was nearly perfect.
I'll be back, if only to dig into some larb and that sticky rice on the narrow terrace, which should be lovely in these next few weeks.
Deejai's lighter dishes succeed, but some other menu items that are described as having 'heat' simply didn't.(Full review)
Thai food is one of my favorites and I have tried several spots in town. Deejai is the best by far!! I have been there several times, and know one can match thier Penang curry or pad prick dishes. I highly recommend you check this place out. The food is excellent and is located in beautiful Myers Park.


text:
Hi all, I'm a photographic numpty with no artistic ability who just wants to take reasonable holiday photo's. I'm looking for advice for a compact that will take good low light pictures without flash.
My holiday snaps this year were very poor due to not being permitted to use flash inside historic buildings etc.
My present camera is a Fujifilm A850 which seems generally OK, apart from the low light problem. Is there something to look for in the specifications or is it just a matter of a point & shoot won't do the job.


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At the Hampton Inn® Ellsworth/Bar Harbor, you'll be in the heart of all the history and beauty of New England's Acadia region. Just 14 miles away is Blue Hill peninsula, an area that boasts many small coastal villages and some of the most scenic views along the jagged Maine Coast. Catch a glimpse of early New England life in one of the exhibits at the Grand Theater downtown.
Shop in the charming stores or taste some of the best seafood in the country, only 20 minutes away at Historic Bar Harbor. Play a round of golf on the greenest links you've ever seen at Acadia Birches Golf Course, just two miles from our hotel. Relax after a day of whale watching at one of the area's authentic ethnic restaurants.
Ellsworth/Bar Harbor tourism also offers family-friendly fun. Take the kids to Seacoast Fun Park, where waterslides, paintball, go-karts and mini-golf are all a mere five miles away. Spend the day perusing the 15-acre Acadia Zoo and enjoy the lions, alligators and even a replica of a tropical rain forest.
MI=Miles BLK=Block KM=Kilometers MT=Meters YD=Yards
Whatever the reason for your visit, we hope you'll enjoy these fun ways to relax and keep in shape.


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1 lb. swiss chard, washed and cut into small pieces
1TB olive oil
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1/4 c. onion, chopped
2 large tomatoes, chopped
1/2 c. sour cream or plain yogurt
1/2 c. milk
1/4 c. parmesan cheese
8 oz. fettucine
salt & pepper to taste
Heat oil in large saucepan over med. high heat. Add chard, garlic, onions, cooking 1-2 min., stirring occasionally. Add tomatoes, sc/yogurt, milk, cheese, and cooked pasta, along with salt & pepper. Stir well. Serve warm.
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Swiss Chard & Creamy Pasta recipe


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23550 Posts in 19336 Topics by 2890 members
General Questions
SilverStripe Forums » General Questions » What does "all_execution" signify in the profiler?
General questions about getting started with SilverStripe that don't fit in any of the categories above.
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What does "all_execution" signify in the profiler?
13 January 2010 at 2:57am
I'm doing some work optimizing one of our sites using the profiler (?debug_profile=1) and I've noticed that sometimes "all_execution" is the top entry, sometimes representing 50% or more of the execution time. I've looked at sapphire/main.php so I know technically what "all_execution" is representing, but I'm curious what's actually going on there. Does that mean that the database server is running slow? Does it mean that the controller is taking a long time? If your site is running slowly and all_execution is taking up all the time, where do you look first?
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Re: What does "all_execution" signify in the profiler?
13 January 2010 at 10:59am
I'm not sure; but the name implies to me it is the total execution time to generate the page...
Which might explain why it is 50% (as all the parts will add up to equal the total).
Someone please correct me if I'm wrong.
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13 Posts
Re: What does "all_execution" signify in the profiler?
14 January 2010 at 1:55am
Thanks for the input, Pigeon. You're right that it encompasses most of the program execution time. The problem is that it's adding up to more than 50%, so there is some missing time in there. I'm just wondering what the missing time normally represents. Looking around on the forums, I've seen at least one other post where that was going on, so I know it's not only me.
Community Member
243 Posts
Re: What does "all_execution" signify in the profiler?
14 January 2010 at 1:43pm
Odd, is it a significant amount of time? It could just be that the total timer runs for the entire execution where as the others don't start and stop instantainiously and so the to total time includes the initialisation of the other timers.
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181 Posts
Re: What does "all_execution" signify in the profiler?
21 July 2010 at 4:57pm Last edited: 21 July 2010 5:15pm
This has been bugging me so I've just done a little digging into how profiler actually works. If anyone's still interested.
Profiler works by starting and stopping timers around code execution, quite simple really, however, the clever part is that you can have nested timers. When you start a timer within another, the parent timer is suspended.
This is the case with all_execution, which is started in main.php, so essentially the time it reports is really unprofiled time ... i.e. code that does not use profile timers and is not contained within another timer.
To get more detail you really need to dig into the code starting at Director::direct($url); and add timers - although I'm not sure how many levels you can "nest" timers I don't think there's a limit.
Obviously this involves editing core files, however, if you find some code without a profile timer that has a significant chunk of execution time then I'm sure it would be appreciated by the wider community. I'll let you know if I turn up anything.
EDIT: you can also use profile_trace to see the trace and find potential gaps between all_execution resuming and suspending e.g. ?debug_profile=1&profile_trace=1 at the end of your URL
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This is my design for the mural project. Happy Lunch! I also worked on a couple others but we ruled them out for either being too detailed (we have one day to paint this with who knows how many volunteers, most of whom have probably never held a paint brush before not to mention the time it would take to transfer to the wall) or because of the columns; the columns are really giving us lots of grief trying to figure out how to incorporate them…there are so many!
So the idea with this design is to keep it really basic. The mural is in the lunchroom of the school, hence the lunch idea. One idea we initially had was to do a food pyramid, but that seemed so boring. But, thinking about the food groups and a balanced lunch gave me the inspiration for this piece.
My roomie is working on her design and we submit them this weekend to let the principal pick one. Next weekend, sketching on the wall.


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Love the look of faux eyelashes but too intimidated to give them a try? Our French colleagues recently created this delightful instructional video to help you face your false-y fears. The results: A subtle pop of pizzazz (just in time for New Year's Eve). Go ahead, bat those lashes!
Blair Badge is one multi-talented lady: she's a social media manager, a beauty editor for fashion site Chictopia, a model, a newlywed and an all-around awesome gal with a penchant for witty banter. Her dreamy blog, love, blair, is a heady mix of all her talents in one and we can't get enough of her style and beauty advice. This week, she's sharing her DIY beauty tips, like how to create a pretty custom lip color and how to get perfect beachy waves.
(Photo: Paperself)
I never would have considered paper lashes if it wasn't for The Hunger Games movie, which showcased Effie Trinket (a.k.a. Elizabeth Bank) wearing them in tons of promo shots. I know, I totally got pulled into the whole Katniss craze!
Notable Quotables is a weekly series featuring a great quote. Whether it's the founder of a beloved beauty brand, an eccentric makeup artist making headlines, or even a super-stylish celebrity, our favorite tastemakers always have something worth sharing. Today's quote is from Nicki Minaj, who spoke with Elle about her wigs, eccentric makeup, favorite products and more.
My eyes, because they're the one thing I need my makeup artist to do. I don't have the patience, my hands shake, and I mess everything up. So my makeup artist has to do my brows and lids and lashes. Everyone knows I'm a lash girl by now. When I don't have my lashes, I feel naked.
—Nicki Minaj to Elle regarding the most high maintenance part of her beauty routine.
Even if you're not a makeup nut like Nicki, a colorful liner from stila will give you a fresh new look.
Oh how we love Nam Vo. She breezed into our office today, all bouncy hair and glowing skin, for a combination catch-up and technical help session (check out her new blog!). In return, she showed us her new obsessions: Kre-at False Lashes, which are incredibly high quality. She tested them out on me (lucky, I know!) and I was amazed at how natural they look. The difference, she says, is that the lashes are individual clusters that you carefully insert in between your lashes using tweezers. Applying false lashes this way looks more subtle than simply plopping on a band of false fringe because a real lashline is uneven anyway. "It's like a wig versus extensions," she says. Nam made it look incredibly easy, simply dipping each clump into a tiny bit of glue and then placing them on my lashline — in reality, it's a little trickier. I'll report back once I try it myself!
More of Nam's picks and tips soon!


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Spiritual supplies for hoodoo and conjure
Brought to you by www.luckymojo.com
It is currently Wed Oct 01, 2014 2:18 pm
chy clayton s wrote:True lavender is an anti-manic, and from a strictly medical point of it use can be effective in calming racing thoughts.
My grandmother would take 3-5 four-holed shell buttons, put a cross stitch in each and then stitch them together ( using thick white cotton thread). She would put a few drops of scented oil on the threads and give them to people to carry as pocket worry pieces.
She once told me "Children loose their marbles, adults lose their buttons."
I still carry the set she made me every day, I've had to restitch it a few times over the years.
ConjureMan wrote:From a slighly different perspective there is a belief that panic attacks that have no immediate cause are a result of entities that exist on a subtle plane. They don't actually attack the individual, but them passing near by or latching on will cause such symptoms in the individual. It might be worth looking into.
cleopatra wrote:Could the IS have something to do with this? HD has mentioned working with it in previous posts, and some think that working with it can cause anxiety. Personally, I have never worked with the IS, so maybe someone more knowledgeable could comment
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Largehearted Boy - Book Notes - Christopher Beha "What Happened to Sophie Wilder"
In the Book Notes series, authors create and discuss a music playlist that relates in some way to their recently published book.
Previous contributors include Bret Easton Ellis, Kate Christensen, Kevin Brockmeier, George Pelecanos, Dana Spiotta, Amy Bloom, David Peace, Myla Goldberg, Heidi Julavits, Hari Kunzru, and many others.
Christopher Beha's What Happened to Sophie Wilder is a remarkable debut novel, one that showcases the author's gift for storytelling.
Commentary wrote of the book:
"What Happened to Sophie Wilder is a remarkable first novel, which should especially be read by those who have given up on contemporary literature. Along with handing them something good to read, it will renew their faith in what literature is capable of achieving."
Stream a Spotify playlist of these tunes. If you don't have Spotify yet, sign up for the free service.
In his own words, here is Christopher Beha's Book Notes music playlist for his debut novel, What Happened to Sophie Wilder:
I don't generally listen to music while I write. For a long time this only applied to music with lyrics, since I find it tough to put words together while listening to someone else's words, though I could still listen to instrumental stuff. But through some effort over the past few years I've become a marginally more sophisticated music listener, which is generally to the good, as it means that I'm able to understand a little bit better how music conveys ideas. I don't want to overstate this ability on my part, but I've developed it enough that I now have the same problem listening to instrumental music while I work that I do listening to lyrics, which is that it puts some other person's thoughts into my head. Right now, I'm writing in an apartment without air conditioning, and summer has come early to New York, so I'm mostly listening to the fan. If that starts conveying ideas to me, I'm in trouble on all sorts of fronts.
That said, I love listening to music when I'm not actively writing. And my experience writing a novel is that one is always working on it, every waking moment (most sleeping moments, too), so there were plenty of times while I was writing What Happened to Sophie Wilder when the work was affected by my listening to something or other. And I do use music in my writing in a more conscious sense. If there's a mood I'm trying to capture, I might think about how a piece of music I admire conveys that mood. If I'm trying to make a character come alive in my own mind, I might think about what kind of music he or she listens to, although I try to avoid writing that explicitly into the book. So, what follows are mostly not songs I listened to while writing the book, or songs I recommend that you listen to while reading it, but some songs that played a part in the book's composition.
Interpol "NYC"
What Happened to Sophie Wilder takes place mostly in lower Manhattan in the summer of 2003. The big blackout that struck the northeast that summer is described, but otherwise it is less grounded to that one year than to the general period after 9/11. There was a particular feel the city had in those years, one that passed surprisingly quickly. Certainly, it was gone by the time I started writing the book in 2008, and I was conscious of that fact. That is, I knew that even though only five years had past and most of the buildings and even the people were the same, I couldn't capture the New York of that time simply by looking around me.
One thing that had changed in those five years was the music: the years after 9/11 were the years of the post-punk revival. For the first time in a generation, downtown New York was the place where the coolest music in the world was getting made. At every party you heard The Strokes's Is This Itand Interpol's Turn On the Bright Lights. It was easy to believe that these bands would be the bands of the next decade. For whatever reason, it didn't happen, but in a certain way what did happen was better: these bands became entirely emblematic of a moment. The quickest means I know to recapture the feeling of being young in New York a decade ago is to put one of these albums on. So I could have included just about any song off of either of them. I picked Interpol's "NYC" for perhaps obvious reasons. If someone were to ask me to convey what the summer of 2003 in New York, the world of my book, felt like in as few words as possible, my answer would be: The subway is a porno/the pavements, they are a mess/I know you've supported me for a long time/Somehow I'm not impressed.
Wilco "Jesus, Etc."
Here is another song from around that time that conveys that mood to me. In my first two years of college, I wore out Wilco's double disc, Being There, until my roommates told me I had to stop playing it. After my sophomore year, I took time off and moved to France. I was feeling fairly adrift in ways that aren't strictly relevant to the matter at hand, and I spent a lot of time reading (in English) and writing (also in English), which wasn't particularly good for the language-learning plan that was the ostensible reason for the move, but which made those months as important for my development as a writer as any period in my life so far. I wrote a few stories that held together as stories for more than a page or two, which I'd never done before. They weren't good stories, mind you, but they were stories, which was a big step for me. I'd been there for a few weeks when my sister, Alice, sent me a care package that included Wilco's new album, Summerteeth. This meant a lot to me as a gesture, but I wasn't sure how much I'd actually like the album. I'd grown a bit tired of the alt-country sound of Being There. I'd moved on, I thought. But so had the band, it turned out. I remember the first time I listened toSummerteeth, with its Beach Boys harmonies and the beautiful abstraction of its lyrics. I had the odd feeling that a band I loved was growing in ways that anticipated my own growth, making the music I needed it to make at that moment.
I was back at school when rumors started to circulate about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. It was said to be some kind of masterpiece, but a masterpiece so infuriating that the band's label refused to put it out. All of that business has since become legend, but what I knew at the time was that Wilco had a new album and that I couldn't listen to it. I understood that it represented another major departure, and I supposed it would be too much to ask that this departure should coincide again with my own personal progression. In late September of my senior year, just about a week after the city where I grew up was attacked, Wilco streamed the album on its website, and I listened to it for the first time. I was somewhat apprehensive, but within the first minute of the first track, "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart," I knew they'd done it again. When "Jesus, Etc." came on, with those beautiful strings and that opening—Jesus, don't cry/You can rely on me, honey—I felt myself exhale for what seemed the first time in about ten minutes. Then I heard those lines, Tall buildings shake/Voices escape singing sad, sad songs, and I started to cry. This song was of course written and recorded long before, had been famously in limbo for months, but it felt like one of those cases, like Neil Young getting "Ohio" on the airwaves within a week of the Kent State massacre, where a song speaks in an incredibly immediate way to a moment we are all living through. By the time I got to the part about the skyscrapers scraping together, I understood that I was in the presence of something eerie, almost magical. It was a sad feeling, of course, but there was a hint of joy in it, the first I'd felt since before the buildings had collapsed.
Neko Case, "Star Witness"
Neko Case's wonderful album Fox Confessor Brings the Flood came out after the period when my book is set, so it's a bit anachronistic to include one of its songs here. But I listened to it constantly during the period when I was writing the book, and there is a certain attitude Case expresses in almost everything she does, what I want to call a humane fierceness, that I wanted my character Sophie to have. Why this particular song? Well, listen to it.
Bob Dylan "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands"
Despite the proceeding, my musical tastes are not, in general, grounded in time, or if they are that time is the time spent on the floor of my baby boomer parents' bedroom at the age of ten or eleven, listening to their record collection. My father's taste ran toward folk, while my mother's ran toward rock with a hint of the psychedelic, but they met at Dylan, Neil Young, The Beatles of Rubber Soul and Revolver, The Stones of Let It Bleed and Sticky Fingers (my mom had the original, Warhol-designed album cover, complete with working zipper), and Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys, all of which I listened to with great devotion and exhilaration when growing up. Listening to my parents' albums throughout my childhood affected me in lots of ways. To begin with, I have a rather old-fashioned idea about the album rather than the song being the primary unit of meaning for popular music, which can be seen above. In addition I occasionally still have a feeling best expressed by one of my heroes from that era, Brian Wilson: I guess I just wasn't made for these times. Maybe everyone feels this way to some degree. In any case, it is a feeling shared by Charlie Blakeman and Sophie Wilder, the two main characters in my novel.
In the book, I quote Schiller to the effect that a man is a citizen of his age as well as his state, which I take to mean that it is incumbent upon us to make our peace with, and even show some loyalty to, our own time. But, man, it seemed to me that this music was my music, even if it was made a decade before I was born; I wanted to make something like it. So I started playing guitar and started writing songs, which is the first writing I did. When I discovered that I wasn't good enough at writing songs, I gave it up for writing poetry. When I discovered that I wasn't good enough at writing poetry, I gave it up for writing prose. A shadow of a shadow. But I try to remember Ezra Pound's dictum that music begins to atrophy when it strays too far from dance, and poetry begins to atrophy when it strays to far from music, adding to it that prose begins to atrophy when it strays too far from poetry. This very long last track from Blonde on Blonde exemplifies this idea for me. I remember a few years ago, in a review of Christopher Ricks's Dylan book, Jonathan Lethem took Ricks to task for treating Dylan like a poet, which is to say, for ignoring the music in favor of close readings of the words. Case in point, this song, whose lyrics are just nonsense on the page. On the album they are heartbreaking nonsense. While writing What Happened to Sophie Wilder, I often pictured Charlie saying to Sophie, "Sad-eyed lady, should I wait?"
Paul Simon "Mother and Child Reunion"
It would tell too much to explain the connection of this song to my book. I will only say that it's the nicest song about death that I know.
The Sisters of the Abbey of Regina Laudis "Assumpta est Maria"
I said above that I don't listen to music while writing, but this is one exception. I also said that most of What Happened to Sophie Wilder takes place in lower Manhattan, but some parts of it take place at Regina Laudis, an abbey for Benedictine nuns in Connecticut. This is a real place, to which I have been a few times. The lives of the nuns who live there is structured around the liturgy, and if you go to visit, you can hear them chant the mass, an incredibly moving experience even if you don't share their belief. On one of my visits, I bought a CD of their chants, and I listened to it while writing the parts of the book that take place at the Abbey. Assumpta est Maria in coelum, this particular chant begins. Mary is assumed into heaven. Which is to say that it's another song about the mother and child reunion.
Christopher Beha and What Happened to Sophie Wilder links:
the author's website
excerpt from the book
Commentary review
Portland Book Review review
Publishers Weekly review
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Moville, IA homes badly damaged by storm
Several Siouxland communities were socked with storms Monday night.
One of the hardest hit was Moville, Iowa.
A tornado hasn't been confirmed there, but some people we talked to had major damage to their homes.
Officials say two people suffered minor injuries in Moville Monday night, but don't have further details at this time.
Local levees hold, but flood waters still find Riverside neighborhood
Strong winds and heavy rain gave some levees along the Missouri River a test.
Flooding also blocked several streets in Sioux City's Riverside neighborhood.
Several yards were also filled with water.
City crews pumped out the streets while the fire department and rapid response team pumped sewage out of homes on River Drive.
City officials say five to ten homes were affected, more because of the storm itself, rather than the flooding on the Big Sioux River.
Pearl Street store fronts to get makeover money
A new facade program will help improve the look of Sioux City's Pearl Street District.
Developers can apply for a $60,000 grant from the city, with a 25% match from the property owner.
Only those who haven't received assistance from the city are eligible.
Funds should become available at the end of July.


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An Exceptionally Gifted Surgeon - Wellesley, MA
I am a 54 year old female that recently had upper...
I found Dr. Kapadia and his office manager, Donna, personable, professional, and helpful from the initial consultation all the way through the surgery to the aftercare & follow-up. My surgery was such a pleasant experience. I can't thank Dr. Kapadia enough for giving my eyes back their youthful appearance. I am amazed at the results he was able to achieve. It's been a huge boost to my self confidence and now I only hear comments of how great I look. No kidding, I didn't think having this surgery three months ago would make such a difference in my life, but it did in a very positive way. : ) I would highly recommend Dr. Kapadia to anyone that is considering corrective eye surgery or facial rejuvenations. He is truly an exceptionally gifted surgeon.
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is the death of free thinking down to society or our education system?
There has been a recent demise in the amount of free thinking done in the world. if one compares our generation in comparison to other decades, protests of 70's, creativity of 80's and innovation of 90's, on must ask the question, why do we no longer question things or fight for what we believe in? I originally believed it was society, that we believed that there was nothing more to think of, nothing new after computers to think of, that we had reached the final frontier according to society. As well as there not being a cause high profile enough for people fight for, nothing like Vietnam for people to fight against. Then i realised that possibly it is not society or what is happening that is killing our need to free think, fight and/or innovate. Yet are we not in the same situation as past generations? Eg. They invented the TV but we felt the need to invent the computer. Is our school system not possibly, by constricting us to such extents, possibly killing free thinking and making what is possibly, extinct? They change the way we perceive problems so we approach it with blinkers on, instead of allowing our free thinking and imagination to solve problems in a whole variety of the ways? Which has the greater influence f the two ...?
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Jan 11 2013: People are not robots but they are becoming robots. Do not doubt that for one minute.
To think otherwise is to lie to oneself, otherwise known as self-deception.
Self-deception is the active misrepresentation of reality to ones own mind.
It is because of our brainwashing institutions, some formerly known as our education system.
The public is deceived, intentionally and has been for decades if not centuries.
People now believe what they are told to believe, think what they are told to think, say what they are told to say and do what they are told to do. Conversely, they do not believe what they are told not to believe, do not think what they are told not to think, do not say what they are told not to say and do not do what they are told not to do.
They are embedded with false information, rendering them Artificially Intelligent, as they become mental robots.
They think voting works, that laws solve problems, that politicians are necessary, and that by remembering the past, they will not repeat it when that is exactly what they do. They repeat what they remember. One cannot repeat what one cannot remember. Today, they have Manchurian Candidates and they are Manchurian Citizens.
The main effect of brainwashing is a dulled ability to reason. The second effect is an impeded ability to act.
People are coerced with the threat of violence, constant terror and fear mongering, destroying the economy and the value of their currency in order to keep them struggling and fearing not having an occupation, all while continuing to being pitted like wild animals for survival and having it make sense to them while they defend it as "normal".
Very ill.
Again, William Casey, the head of the CIA in 1981, said, "We will know when our program of disinformation is complete when everything the American people believe, is false."
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The only couple to have won the lottery twice… with the same numbers.
"I thought my eyes were playing games on me," Anna said. "I saw this familiar looking man approaching me, his eyes gazing at me. My heart jumped. I knew it was him. I was crying with joy." 80 years-old Boris had returned to visit his parents' grave. As he stepped out of the car, he looked up to see Anna standing by her old house, where they had lived for the few days after the wedding. "I ran up to her and said: 'My darling, I've been waiting for you for so long. My wife, my life…'" (Link)
When visiting a circus in Halifax with which Martin Van Buren Bates — another enormously tall person — was travelling, Anna was spotted by the promoter and was hired on the spot. The giant couple became a touring sensation and eventually fell in love, and on June 17, 1871, in St Martin-in-the-fields in London, they got married. Rev. Rupert Cochrane, a friend of Anna's family, who happened to be preaching in London at the time, agreed to conduct the ceremony. Despite his 6-feet-3-inch (1.91 m) stature, the Reverend looked small when standing next to the giant bride and groom. Their combined height was an astonishing 14 feet 8 inches (over 4,5 m). (Link 1 Link 2)


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"the crowd in buenos aires tonight was truly amazing, transcendant crowd, what a rocking bunch of people…thankyou thankyou thankyou gracias" - Flea on Twitter 13 hours ago.
Flea & Josh in Hong Kong. August 9th, 2011
Mr Michael (Flea) Balzary, you're a legend.
Flea and Anthony at the Lakers game, June 6.


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Treatment for a sexual problem depends on the cause. It may include treating a health problem, learning how to talk openly with your partner, and learning about things you can do at home. For example, you might take a warm bath to relax, have plenty of foreplay before sex, or try different positions during sex.
It's important to feel comfortable talking with your doctor. The more you can tell your doctor, the more he or she will be able to help you.
Learning about sexual problems in women:
Being diagnosed:
Getting treatment:
WebMD Medical Reference from Healthwise


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Ryan Lochte has received plenty of notoriety since returning to America from the London Olympics, but it's his sister, Megan, who is receiving the attention this week.
Megan Lochte came under fire on Friday when a 2008 video featuring her making several racist remarks went viral. The video, which was first posted by Jezebel (warning: video contains explicit language), is from Lochte's 2008 appearance on a Maryland late-night comedy talk show called "Closing Time," hosted by Baltimore-based comedian Mickey Cucchiella. The show took place shortly after Lochte returned from watching her brother compete at the 2008 Summer Games in Beijing.
"Let's talk about China. How long were you there?" the host asks "field correspondent" Lochte.
"We were there for a little bit over a week. China was ch—ed out," she says to much laughter. "Like, it was totally Chinese. Everything."
"The nerve of those people to be …" Cucchiella began, before being interrupted by Lochte.
"Ch—s everywhere," Lochte continued.
By that point, Lochte had used the racial slur three times, and Cucchiella was looking uncomfortable.


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Light Art + Design
601 West Rosemary Street, Town of Chapel Hill, North Carolina 27514View on Map
Event Info
(919) 942-7077
ILLUME 2 opening receptions are Fri, Feb 1, 6-8pm and Sat, Feb 2, 6-9pm.
ILLUME 2 celebrates LIGHT's second anniversary and will feature work from Katherine Armacost, Casey Cook, Lynda Curry, Beverly Dawson, Jimmy Fountain, Peg Gignoux, Harrison Haynes, Mark Hewitt, Harriet Hoover, Anne Lemanski, Kimowan Metchewais, Yun-Dong Nam, Ippy Patterson, Kaola Phoenix, Lynda Sanders and Leigh Suggs.
Show runs through March 16.


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Take a Break at Silent Beach »
Trace perfect tranquility… Slowly close in on a peaceful, purifying experience for the body, mind, and soul. In the heart of nature, to the rhythm of nature, take a deep breath in anticipation of a string of moments in harmony with your own self. Positive thoughts, nature's murmurs, soothing…
I just loved this relaxing beach. The quiet. The peacefulness of listening to the waves rolling softly.
Hillside Beach Club- Heaven on Earth from Hillside Beach Club on Vimeo.
Hillside Beach Club is officially the place of my dreams. I will definitively return every year. Truly one of the best hotels in turkey and "Paradise on Earth".
Has anyone else been there? I would be happy to re-blog some photos!
Model of the City of David. Amazing place and I had the privilege of seeing it through guided City of David Tours. Much recommended!
(Source: hakop32, via travelthisworld)
Israel Programs »
Our mission is to provide the best Masa Israel programs. Going on Destination Israel programs will give you memories for life - find out more!
This is also possibly one of the best things I did after college. Volunteering in Israel really opened my eyes to a new world and now I want to be a social worker (not sure how to pay back my student loans though!).
Israel Tours »
Israel Tours offered by Egged Tours. The best Israel Tour Packages, including a variety of Jerusalem Tours, Bethlehem Tours, Dead Sea Tours and more.
Great tour company for those who want to explore Israel in depth. I had the time of my life on my last trip to Israel - thanks Egged!