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Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Beautiful Disaster
Gaydar anyone?3 Reviews
Read this...It's going to get pretty funny here soon.
'Okay so we have to wait for five minutes?' Brendon asked as Chelsea handed him the test before he put the cover back on the bottom setting it down on the counter as Chelsea washed her hands.
'What about this doesn't feel right?' Brendon asked as they sat in the floor in front of the sink.
'Just something, I don't know.' Chelsea started, 'Call it a mother intuition but something just isn't right.'
'It'll be fine baby, we shouldn't be worried about it, the stress isn't good.' Brendon said as Chelsea laid her head on his shoulders while she held his hand.
'Five minutes.' Brendon said setting his phone down on the phone before turning around and reaching up for the stick. Brendon held it facing up and read 'Pregnant' written on the screen, 'We're pregnant.'
'We're pregnant again.' She said laying her head back down on his shoulder.
'What do you think it's going to be?'
'I have no idea.'
'How are you feeling today?'
'Sick, I'm freezing, I feel like I've been punched in the stomach.'
'Well let's go lay back down.' Brendon said standing up and helping her up and taking her into their bed.
'Hey mom.' Chelsea said into the phone as Brendon showered three hours later.
'Hi sweetheart, how's New York?'
'I'm not sure, I haven't seen too much of it yet, I've been in the hotel room since we've been here.'
'Is Brendon not taking you out?'
'No, I've been kind of sick.'
'Did you take the test?'
'Yeah mom, I'm pregnant again.'
'Something doesn't feel right about it mom. I'm not sure what is wrong but something doesn't feel right.'
'Maybe it's your body's way of telling you that something will happen to your baby.'
'What do you think will happen?'
'I don't know babe but your body has a way of telling you when something is wrong.'
'What should I do?'
'Honey just wait and see what happens, you may just be overacting.'
'But what if I'm not?'
'If you really feel like this, sweetheart, just watch how you feel and how you act; if you have a fever, if you feel cramps, anything that is different from the first time you were pregnant then keep an eye on it.'
'Where is Brendon?'
'He's in the shower; he has some press to do in a couple of hours.'
'Are you going to go with him?'
'I don't know.'
'You should go, you probably need to get out of the hotel and get this off your mind.'
'You think so?'
'I do, it'll be good for both you and him.'
'How is Thomas doing?'
'He's doing well; I don't think he or you father have gotten up out of that chair since you two have been gone. The only time Thomas moves is to eat, take a bath, or get his diaper changed.'
'Some how that doesn't surprise me, he and Brendon love the lazy days. They sit around watching cartoons all day long.'
'That's pretty much what your father has been doing. We took him to mass yesterday and poor baby his cheeks were pink by the time we got out of there, they'd been pinched so many times.'
'Aww, I bet he likes the attention he's getting from his grand-parents.'
'I'm sure he is.'
'Alright mom, I'm going to get ready to go with Brendon, I'll call you tomorrow.'
'Alright sweetie.'
'Give Thomas hugs and kisses for us.'
'I will talk to you tomorrow.'
'Love you Chelsea, give Brendon our love too bye sweetie.'
'Bye mom.' Chelsea said as Brendon walked into the room kneeling on the bed and kissing her neck.
'How's Thomas?'
'He's good, being lazy with dad as usual.' Chelsea laughed as Brendon moved to the other side of her neck.
'I should have guest as much. Did I hear you say you were going to come with me today?'
'I need to get out of this hotel room.'
'We have rehearsal.'
'Okay.' She whispered as Brendon laid her back on the bed.
'What is with you all of a sudden?' she giggled.
'I have this amazing wife so I figured I'd love on her a little bit now that I don't have to worry about getting sick.'
'I see.' Chelsea laughed as Brendon looked down at her.
'So you really think there is something wrong with the baby?'
'I do, I feel it.'
'Maybe it's a way of telling us we shouldn't have so much sex.'
Chelsea laughed as she rolled out from under Brendon's towel clad body, 'I'm sure that's it get ready to go stud.' She said walking into the bathroom.
'Hey Chels.' Spencer said as she caught him in the elevator after Brendon had opted for the stairs with Ryan.
'Hey Spence.' She smiled standing next to him.
'How are you feeling?'
'Much better.' She smiled as the elevator ran slowly down towards the lobby.
'Ready for the show?'
'I guess so, I'm kind of ready to go back home.'
'Are you and Brendon okay?'
'We're good.' She smiled as the elevator doors dinged.
'Hey baby, what took you so long?' Brendon joked as Chelsea gave him a look, 'Or not.' He said as the smile was replaced with a frown.
'Let's go guys.' Ryan said as everyone followed him out.
Chelsea climbed into the car and into the very back of the van as Brendon followed, 'Hope you guys don't mind Brendon and I are just going to make out.' Chelsea said before grabbing Brendon and beginning the 30 minute long make out session as Ryan and Spencer rolled their eyes from the seat in front.
Chelsea sat in a chair in the middle of the arena that the boys were rehearsing in as Brendon warmed up his vocal cords while prancing around the stage while Ryan and Spencer, once again rolled their eyes. Chelsea's stomach had been feeling a little queasy lately and during the day. As Chelsea sat contently watching Brendon her stomach felt like it was turning over. She slowly got up and turned around looking at Rob, a roadie as he pointed her towards the bathroom. Soon Chelsea broke out into a run towards the bathroom making it in front of the toilet just in time to empty all of her stomach contents into the porcelain white bowl. She sat down against the wall breathing heavily as the door opened and Brendon walked in.
'Chelsea?' he asked looking under some of the stalls. She put her hand on the bright red door and pushed it open looking at him.
'Are you okay?'
'Throwing up has never hurt so badly.' She whispered with her eyes shut and her head against the wall.
'Come on, let's go lay you down.' He said picking her up bridal style and walking out of the bathroom towards the back room where there was a couch.
'Hey Rob, can you get a damp cloth?' Brendon asked as Rob held the door open for them.
'Yeah sure.' He said scurrying off to find a cloth for Chelsea's head.
'I'm sorry I interrupted your rehearsal.'
'It's alright, we were about to take a water break anyway.' Brendon said soothing her hair back from her eyes, 'Why don't you get some rest, rehearsal is almost over, when I get done we'll get something to eat and spend the evening together.'
'Okay.' She smiled.
'Alright, I love you.' Brendon smiled before planting a soft kiss on her chapped lips.
'I love you.' She smiled.
Brendon got up and turned around to find Rob, 'Hey here is the cloth.'
'Thanks.' He said turning around and putting it on Chelsea's forehead before kissing her lips one more time and starting out of the room, 'Do you think you could keep an eye on her for a little while?'
'Sure, no problem.' Rob smiled before Brendon walked out. Rob sat down on the coffee table and picked up a magazine.
'I'm sorry he's making you my babysitter.'
'It's okay, I really don't mind, I don't like doing manual labor, it makes me sweaty.' Rob said as he grossed his legs.
'I see.' Chelsea said with a smirk on her face.
'Tell me about yourself Rob? I mean we see each other all the time but I don't really know you.'
'Well what do you want to know?'
'Where are you from?'
'Miami Florida. Where are you from?'
'Should have guessed that one.'
'Do you like touring?'
'I would like it a whole lot more if the people on this tour were a little nicer to me. So far the only people who are civil are you and the boys in the band. Everyone else has a big stick up their butt.'
'I know. Don't worry, unless you play in instrument in the band they are like that to everyone.'
'They are like that to you too?'
'Oh yeah, they've always been like that to me.'
'Hmmm, I would think, seeing as how you and the lead singer are together and all, they would at least be a little nicer to you.'
'Oh no, not at all.' Chelsea started.
'So why are you sick?'
'I'm pregnant.'
'Whoa! Does the baby daddy know about this?'
'Brendon? Yeah he knows.'
'Well you're just a regular slut now aren't ya?' Rob joked. On usual bases that would really bother Chelsea if someone were to call her a slut but for some reason, it didn't bother her when Rob said it.
'I am not. We have a one year old at home and we're married.'
'Newsflash to me.' Rob said moving over to sit next to her, 'How long?'
'Almost four years.'
'Oh yeah, I remember you guys getting into trouble about that. Bob Waters is a regular bitch.'
'I know.' Chelsea said with a knowing smile towards Rob…
'He's gay.' she thought in her head before Brendon walked back into the room.
'Ready to go?' he asked with sweat running down his forehead.
'Yeah.' She said standing up, 'I will talk to you later Rob.' She said with a wink.
'It's a date.' He smiled before she walked out of the door taking Brendon's hand as they did so.
'You seem to be feeling better, what happened with that guy, did you have sex with him? How was it?'
Chelsea walked around the corner to a deserted hall way and pushed Brendon against the wall crashing her lips to his. He didn't argue as he met her lips it a fit of passion, 'I could not have sex with another man and still feel that way about you. But I do have a feeling about Rob.' She smiled before kissing him again.
She pulled off Brendon and took his hand continuing down the hall as he caught his breath and looked at her with a glint of lust in his eyes: It was going to be a long night.


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The trial for a Marion County man accused of shooting and killing his father in law was postponed on Tuesday due to bad weather.
Prosecutors said Michael Palmer and his wife Kristyn shot and killed her father, Everett Wilson, in 2011.
Marion County Prosecuting attorney, Pat Wilson, said the court decided the roads were not safe enough to call everyone in.
Weather permitting, Wilson said the trial will begin Thursday morning with jury selection and a trip to the scene of the murder.
Wilson said opening statements and testimony may not begin until Friday.
Both Michael and Kristyn Palmer have been held in the North Central Regional Jail since December of 2011.
Stick with 12 News as we continue to follow this trial.

subset: commoncrawl


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I also visited Nathan Thomas of Nathan Thomas Studios during my last trip to New York - love that he looks for the unique in everything he designs, his work is bold and dramatic. A preview of this passion for bold color can be seen in the above photo of us with Ava!
Out in New York City today with David Lucido of Eddie Lee, Inc. interior Design!
Today's line up of fabulous NYC firms in Part Two of the Ava Diaries: Pepe Lòpez Design, Neal Beckstedt Studio and AJS Designs. Enjoy!
Here I am with Pepe Lòpez! New York Mag says that Pepe Lòpez designs incorporate
"clean rooms with an artful sense of color and connoisseurship."
Thanks for visiting with me Pepe!
At the Neal Beckstedt Studio with Mr. Beckstedt himself… :-)
A beautiful living room interior by Neal Beckstedt Studio:
Project - East 85th Street Residence-
And here we are with Jackie, Julie and Ravit at AJS Designs!
Below is an AJS interior that was featured on NBC's hit show, SMASH! Great job AJS!
Also, check out this AJS light sculpture done with Rodger Stevens. Awesome!
Thank you to all of the firms I met with this round in NYC! You all make it a joy to do my job! See you next time!
Ava and I hit the streets of New York City again to meet some truly wonderful designers.
Part One of the Ava Diaries featuring Bohn Associates. Check them out!
Bohn Associates is a full-service architecture and design firm dedicated to creating "environments that make space a place". I pulled a few "new home" favorites from their site so you can see the scope of their work.
Check out this aerial!
Loved the lighting in this staircase! Mirrored paneling multiplying the light all the way down.
This new home takes the cake! Check out the floor to ceiling windows all around. I can't imagine how beautifully lit this is at sunrise.
One of my favorite photos of the trip happened while I was at Bohn. Adorable!
Thanks to everyone at Bohn! Looking forward to working with you all soon!
Hello all!
I have been wanting to blog about this for a while and here it is! (note: Our tumblr has been inaccessible for a while so please excuse the tardy posts this week)
The extremely talented interior designer, Thomas Bucherie, created this outdoor dining space for Chicago's Dream Home 2012. Bringing together the top designers in Chicago, this event resulted in nine beautifully designed rooms with the proceeds benefitting Almost Home Kids.
I was so excited to see the "Ava" star in this beautiful outdoor dining design!
Here is a video of Thomas talking about the space. His favorite part of the setting? Find out here!
Also, you can visit the Dream Home until December 9th in Chicago's Design House at the Merchandise Mart. :)
I received some snapshots from David Sutherland's Houston sales rep Susan Elias today. They are SO fun! Check out the Ava "keeping it weird" in Austin near Mark Ashby's office! :) Thank you, Susan!
Last week I received photos of the Ava making its way around Dallas with David Sutherland's amazing representative Richard and my publicist Meredith of Ligné Agency. I absolutely love watching my lamp getting introduced to so many different people. The reactions are always so unique and genuine. The adventures in the world of lighting and design never cease to amaze me!
Here is the Ava being presented to Valerie (far right) of Barbara J Vessels Interiors Inc, along with Richard and Meredith.
At Duncan, Miller, and Ullman they loved the Ava so much they took it around the whole office! Unfortunately, we missed a snapshot of that! Special thanks to Chris and Abbey for their enthusiasm!
Reggie, Katie, and Dona of Waldrop+Nichols Studio welcomed the Ava with open arms! You can see them scoping the lamp out below with Richard followed by a camera shy Dona hiding behind the Ava's shade.
The last Live.Anywhere. introduction of the day was at Phelan's where the Ava met with Hector, Amy and David. Below you can see a picture of Megan (Ligné Agency), with Amy and Hector.
I love Texas! Can't wait to be back there myself. A big thank you to Richard of David Sutherland and all of the wonderful designers who welcomed the Ava in Dallas!
Just stopping in to share a few more pictures with you all of myself and the infamous Ava Live.Anywhere. travelling wireless lamp!
We have had quite a few exciting trips in the past month. I was so fortunate to run into one of my dearest old friends, Todd Avery Lenahan, while I was in Las Vegas. Todd and I used to work together at Disney Imagineering while I concepted theme lighting for Disney's theme parks. His talent has set him apart as one of the most sought out designers in the design industry. He loves innovation and understands the process to make this happen, as well as the many unlimited applications. He gets it! Thank you Todd!!!
Here is a photo of myself with Todd and the sweet Sandy Sutherland. Her wrap is crocheted out of soda caps! So awesome!
Another photo of Todd and I.
I was also very grateful to receive photos of the Ava travelling around with my representatives in Houston. The Ava made stops at Creative Touch, Shabby Slips, and Dodson and Daughter. Thank you all!
Here are some more photos of the Ava taking its tour around Houston, doing what it does best!
The Ava just finished breaking into spring with a tour around Dallas! Pictures coming soon!!
Live. Anywhere. is in Vegas this week with the lovely Sandy Sutherland of David Sutherland showing the lamps all over town.
First stop was with Colour, Inc, who work mainly in high end residential design. Colour, Inc, is revered for their continuos ability to create original spaces claiming to not have "a look" but rather create every project from a blank sheet of paper.
Here are a couple of photos of their beautiful interior work.
Golden Eagle Residence
Penthouse at Park Towers
I had a wonderful time meeting with Megan Baker (left) and Abbey Thompson (right) featured below.
Project photos from www.lvcolours.com.
Next stop, Steelman Partners!
Steelman Partners has worked all over the globe in all forms of entertainment design with their Sarno award-winning casino architect and owner, Paul Steelman.
Their completed projects and future concepts are full of light!
Four Seasons in Macau, China.
Steelman Concept. Check out that live image lighting!
Arlene Steinhauser and I pictured below. Thank you, Arlene!
Project and Concept photos from www.paulsteelman.com.
Last stop, Cagley and Tanner!
Cagley and Tanner call themselves "Modern optimists", creating spaces that are both emotionally exciting and comfortable for their guests.
Mirage Villas, Las Vegas.
VIP Karoake Room in Shanghai, China.
Myself, Jennifer Hallmark (center) and Ajla Kopcic (right). Thank you ladies!
Project photos from Cagley and Tanner's Facebook page.
So great meeting everyone and hearing about all of your exciting projects! Can't wait to work with you all in the near future! Thank you for making my time so enjoyable in Vegas!


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You would be totelement disarmed in front of her (Virginia's) charm and her personality…Mrs Woolf has such a simplicity: she really gives the impression to be something of importing. She has no espece of affection…First of all we think that she has commonplace face, and a maniere of beauty sirituelle imposes upon you, and we discover a fascination to her contemplate. She is at once distant and human, she remains silent as long as she does not want to speak, but then she expresses herself magnificently well.
Vita Sackville-West on Virginia Woolf. (via violentwavesofemotion)


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|Welcome to Coral Cay Resort in Kissimmee, FL, a selection of unique townhomes set amidst lush tropical landscaping – right in the heart of Central Florida's Kissimmee resort area! Offering guests resort style accommodations to make their next trip to Kissimmee/Orlando area the most memorable vacation of all, Coral Cay Resort gives visitors the chance to achieve the ideal balance of seclusion and access to everything Orlando has to offer. We're confident that you won't be disappointed with these premium Kissimmee townhomes. Situated less than five miles from Walt Disney World, Coral Cay Resort in Kissimmee is an ideal location to unwind and enjoy the excitement of the world's favorite vacation spot. Just minutes from Orlando's vast array of theme parks, this Kissimmee Resort offers nearby dining options and world-class shopping; Coral Cay Resort is the ideal home base for your next vacation.
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Coral Cay Resort is the preferred Orlando Hotel of thousands of Orlando visitors every year! Our luxurious Orlando Resort offers fully furnished three and four bedroom vacation townhomes in the heart of Orlando, Florida.
© 2014 Coral Cay Resort


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One of our clients recently ousted one of its most trusted employees, who had been using the company's clients, intellectual property and contacts to run his own business, in direct competition with his current employer.
By John Mc Loughlin 17 Sep 2014 08:24
Mergers and acquisitions are useful when it comes to helping organisations to achieve business objectives. However, this strategy has the potential to create enormous complexity when it comes to consolidating the operations of the two disparate organisations involved in the merger or acquisition.
By Paul Fick 29 Aug 2014 11:21
Notice anything funny about your cellular bill lately? If so, you may have been blind-sided by prevailing mobile data trends.
By Rob Lith 29 Jul 2014 06:55
With all the hype around big data it's not surprising that people are confused.
By Gary Allemann 24 Jun 2014 12:26
The Bring Your Own Device (BYOD) trend, which has employees making use of their own smartphones, tablets and notebooks for business purposes, is a growing phenomenon in the business world. This is especially so in the light of the fact that a recent estimate has the average employee using up to five devices.
By Gareth Tudor 19 Jun 2014 09:48
Even professional users of rugged laptops, tablets and smartphones are sometimes unsure of what defines a "rugged computer" and how the various tests to validate ruggedness are carried out. A truly rugged computer is so much more than just a normal computer wrapped in a tough outer case.
By Jerker Hellström 18 Jun 2014 13:47
It should come as no surprise that the biggest technological impacts on IT departments in 2013 were mobile and big data. Both issues also dominated conversations in the storage arena last year and with employees now increasingly working remotely, it's highly likely that 2014 will see more and more organisations struggling to manage large volumes of data.
By Bryan Balfe 5 Jun 2014 12:18
When the official CliffCentral.com launch party took place recently, what was very interesting was its launch platform.
By Danette Breitenbach 19 May 2014 07:47
A look at the evolving business model for (mobile governance) m-governance projects and the use of mobile technology as a catalyst for inclusive development.
By Vijay Sai Pratap 27 Mar 2014 14:00
A journalist has to take obscure matters and turn them into engaging and understandable stories, showing people why they should care about them. Sometimes it seems impossible.
By Anton Harber 21 Mar 2014 00:00
TORONTO, CANADA: Since the invention of the internet, suddenly the phrase 'dot com' became the single most powerful word of the century...
By Naseem Javed 6 Feb 2014 09:41
Smartphones, tablets and other mobile devices have become essential tools in the business world of today. However...
By Russel Brand 1 Feb 2014 08:43
As with almost every other sector under the 'technology' banner, the mobile industry is evolving at a rapid pace, and is constantly iterating to meet the demands of an increasingly large and sophisticated market.
By Dr Pieter Streicher 28 Jan 2014 11:33
With new technologies come new challenges and as audiences expect greater quality and greater customisation of services, broadcasters, content providers and solution providers are preparing themselves for a busy 2014.
By David Hochner 6 Jan 2014 10:31
A light-hearted look at some of the biggest consumer tech failures in tech during 2013.
By Rod Baker 18 Dec 2013 05:46
The importance of an internal communications network is difficult to overstate. Businesses require a comprehensive on-site infrastructure to function efficiently and improve productivity.
By Neal Bricker 13 Dec 2013 09:29
Being a "good host" was definitely high up the list of what parents of middle-class spoilt brats, like me, expected from their children. Apart from learning to place many more pieces of cutlery on a table than were required, I think the answer to being a good host was, and still is, to provide a decent and handy location for a group of people to share vaguely similar interests and to start a few conversations and make sure there are no uncomfortable silences. And, for me, that location was usually around a dinner table. Now it's around a computer.
By Tim Wyatt-Gunning 12 Dec 2013 12:18
The fourth annual PwC South Africa Entertainment and Media Outlook was launched recently and I caught up with Vicki Myburgh, Entertainment & Media Industries Leader for PwC Southern Africa.
By Danette Breitenbach 29 Nov 2013 15:01
NEWSWATCH: South Africans are flocking to see the Mandela movie, reports IOL, which also reports MWEB is to increase its data speeds, and EWN reports Cell C's Alan Knott-Craig is recovering well after a stroke.
By Rod Baker 29 Nov 2013 07:18
NEWSWATCH: Home-grown stand-up comedian Trevor Noah is to star in his own US sitcom, reports Sowetan LIVE, and MyBroadband says a new report on SA's mobile pricing will debunk some beliefs.
By Rod Baker 27 Nov 2013 07:38
Microsoft has joined rival Google in offering free domains and websites to small and medium enterprises in South Africa.
By Duncan McLeod 7 Nov 2013 08:08
Regular and planned power outages are not uncommon in South Africa, and serve as a stark reminder that our depleting electricity supplies are being stretched to capacity.
By David Palmer-Stevens 4 Nov 2013 11:14
Data continues to increase at an exponential rate, presenting organisations with a host of new challenges, not least of which is managing the quality of these significant volumes of information.
By Gary Allemann 25 Oct 2013 08:21
With the vast majority of businesses unprepared for it, the Protection of Personal Information Bill is set to cause some data management headaches for enterprises.
By Ayanda Dlamini 22 Oct 2013 16:06
Before the birth of the electricity generating industry, any enterprise needing power had to build and run private generators. These were inflexible, inelastic and did not scale easily. In the mid-19th century, centralised generation allowed electricity to be provided as a utility, meaning that consumers only had to pay for what they used.
By President Ntuli 18 Oct 2013 11:17
NEWSWATCH: Communications Minister Yunus Carrim has inaugurated the National Cyber Security Advisory Council (NCAC), reports Mail & Guardian.
By Rod Baker 16 Oct 2013 07:05
It's clear that businesses are going to become increasingly dependent on Wi-Fi in the future but it's important that there be a clear strategy in place.
By Shane Chorley 8 Oct 2013 08:14
The annual Gartner Symposium/ITxpo 2013 took place from 16 to 18 September 2013 and was hosted at the Cape Town International Convention Centre in Cape Town attracting major key players in the IT industry especially the Chief Information Officers, the new IT leaders.
By Coerene Vosloo 20 Sep 2013 07:45
Websites are one of those funny pieces of marketing collateral - most businesses understand they need one, yet for many it's still seen as a grudge purchase.
By Chemory Gunko 19 Sep 2013 07:17
As a society we have become captivated by the world of social connection, through the vast number of endless apps and platforms available on the web. Whether it's sharing our latest travel pictures, connecting with a former colleague or even posting a comment to an interesting article shared, we have become reliant on social media as one way, if not the primary way, we choose to communicate for work and play.
By Drew van Vuuren 5 Sep 2013 15:22


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Product Description
Lethal Edge Cross T Shirt
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About The Center
In 1979, Mt. Hope Family Center began as a therapeutic preschool program for children affected by violence in their home or community. Throughout our history we have been guided by the discipline of developmental psychopathology and have become international leaders in maltreatment research. Today, we provide intervention and prevention services and offer evidence-based therapies to over 800 at-risk children and families annually. We have since become the only agency in Rochester employing innovative concepts to help build strong, healthy families and peer relationships.
Mt. Hope Family Center's unique approach combines scientific research, clinical services and hands-on mentoring and training in one facility. By working closely together, we are developing and providing more effective evidence-based therapies while improving research in human development, maternal depression, child neglect and abuse.
Although our work is rooted in psychology, we want to discover how other scientific disciplines might improve our understanding of human development, integrating elements of social work, medicine, and most recently, engineering in creating scientific collaborations that keep us on the leading ledge of our field.
At Mt. Hope Family Center, we focus on treating the child while helping parents develop the skills they need to understand child development, communicate more effectively, and resolve conflict in non-violent ways. We help to break the cycle of maltreatment while working with children and their families to strengthen the family relationship. Mt. Hope Family Center supports the lifelong development of the individual, from infancy to adulthood.
Mt. Hope Family Center is affiliated with the Clinical and Social Sciences in Psychology Department of the University of Rochester. Staff at Mt. Hope Family Center are comprised of approximately eighty persons, including doctoral level psychology faculty, clinical social workers, research assistants, information analysts, and administrative personnel. A partial listing of staff with program affiliations is available on the Contact Us page.
Multidisciplinary Journal
Development and Psychopathology is a peer-reviewed, multidisciplinary journal devoted to the publication of original, empirical, theoretical and review papers which address the interrelationship of normal and pathological development in adults and children. It is intended to serve and integrate the field of developmental psychopathology which strives to understand patterns of adaptation and maladaptation throughout the lifespan. The journal is of interest to psychologists, psychiatrists, social scientists, neuroscientists, pediatricians, and researchers.
Dante Cicchetti, Ph.D. was the Director of Mt. Hope Family Center from 1984 to 2005 and is the founding editor of Development and Psychopathology. Dr. Cicchetti is currently the McKnight Presidential Chair and William Harris Professor of Child Development and Psychiatry at the Institute of Child Development and Psychiatry, University of Minnesota.
The editorial office for Development and Psychopathology remains at Mt. Hope Family Center.
Mt. Hope Family Center
187 Edinburgh Street
Rochester, NY 14608


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It was yet another piece of bad Bitcoin news: BitInstant Chief Executive Officer Charlie Shrem was arrested by federal agents Sunday and charged with using Bitcoin in a money-laundering scheme connected to the now-defunct Silk Road illegal drug website.
Ever since it started to get attention from mainstream media, Bitcoin has been unfairly saddled with a reputation for being nothing more than a high-tech tool for illegal activities.
Most Bitcoin news stories written over the past couple of years have prominently mentioned the use of the digital currency on Silk Road to buy and sell illegal drugs. Federal agents shut down that website in October.
Making matters worse (and more than slightly ironic) is that the 24-year-old Shrem is vice-chairman of the Bitcoin Foundation, a trade group dedicated to promoting the legitimacy of Bitcoin.
The arrest of Shrem has put those negative associations with Bitcoin back in the spotlight. But Bitcoin news like this is just a distraction from the digital currency's real potential to disrupt and improve electronic payment systems.
What this does is give more ammunition to Bitcoin's critics at a time when it should be moving closer to the mainstream and wider acceptance, both by governments and the public at large.
Here's why this latest Bitcoin news says less about the legitimacy of Bitcoin than those critics would have you think.
Bitcoin News: What the Government Says Shrem Did
In addition to Shrem, federal agents also arrested a Florida man named Robert Faiella, who they charge bought the bitcoins from Shrem and exchanged them for cash to enable Silk Road customers to purchase illegal drugs.
According the Internal Revenue Service, the pair exchanged $1.05 million worth of bitcoin in a 10-month period that ended in October 2012.
According to the court documents, Shrem and Faiella are both charged with conspiracy to launder money and operating an unlicensed money-transmitting business. Shrem also faces a charge for not reporting the scheme to the government.
In addition to the connection to the notorious Silk Road, Shrem's stature in the Bitcoin community has made this story particularly damaging to the digital currency's reputation...
Shrem was one of just five board members of the Bitcoin Foundation, the pre-eminent organization working to promote the digital currency.
And BitInstant, the company Shrem ran, was a popular Bitcoin exchange that enabled people to rapidly convert fiat currencies to the digital kind. The Winklevoss twins, by way of a $1.5 million investment in BitInstant last year, have also been dragged into the mire of this week's bad Bitcoin news.
"When we invested in BitInstant in the fall of 2012, its management made a commitment to us that they would abide by all applicable laws - including money laundering laws - and we expected nothing less," Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss said in a statement.
While Bitcoin news, like the arrest of Shrem and all that goes with Silk Road, might temporarily tarnish Bitcoin's reputation, it does nothing to change the digital currency's promise or utility.
Time to Embrace Bitcoin
It's important to note that Bitcoin is simply a tool; like the Internet itself, it can be used for good or for bad. Because it's so new, Bitcoin lacks many of the regulations needed to curb abuses like those Shrem allegedly committed.
While some of the libertarian proponents of Bitcoin won't like it, government regulation is the one thing most likely to propel the digital currency into the mainstream. People need to be able to trust a payment system before they will use it.
Last November we heard government regulators speak favorably about Bitcoin at Congressional hearings last year even while voicing concerns over the need to address illegal activities. They're still trying to figure out exactly how to impose rules on digital currencies without killing its potential.
And this week, the New York Department of Financial Services is conducting hearings to learn more about Bitcoin and how they might go about regulating it. They even suggested the possibility of issuing state-level "BitLicenses" to regulate digital currencies.
In that sense, the Shram arrest may actually help speed up the regulation of Bitcoin and other digital currencies, and ultimately their adoption.
"Bitcoin is in the process of getting institutionalized," Gil Luria, an analyst at Wedbush Securities Inc., told Bloomberg News. "Early on it was exploited by bad guys because it was still very raw and accessible. As more investors and businesses get involved, it's going to get harder and harder to use it for illicit purposes."
One of the most compelling aspects of Bitcoin is that it is both cheaper and more secure than traditional credit and debit cards. In an era in which hackers are getting better and better at stealing our personal data, Bitcoin just could be the right technology at the right time...
Related Articles:
Money Morning:
Who Uses Bitcoin Is Suddenly a Big Deal to These Businesses
Bloomberg News:
Bitcoin Foundation's Shrem Charged in Silk Road Drug Case
Bitcoin Exchange CEO Arrested for Money Laundering


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I'm gonna sip juice and watch the SPG DVD like it's 4th grade and I'm home sick from school. Can't physically do much else. Which is sad because- Get most sick I have been in 4 years: Get super inspired artistically. *sad trombone*
So much love to you precious people.
- pantstrovich said: I can't believe you're still sick. Quit being sick. :(
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- tamurila said: Love allways
- steam-calliope said: Uwahhhh feel better!!! Juice and fun DVDs are the best remedy @u@
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- shitloadofsquirrels reblogged this from dixiedeadshake and added:
pssst dixie did u know u inspire me
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- csophelia said: No be sick! I genuinely hope you're better as soon as possible!
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- mamamura said: and even when sick you're still amazingly precious aughhhh baby come here and let me make you hot soup u.u
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When Shoe Mill began carrying Dansko 20 years ago there was only one style. The "Professional" thought to be purely function without fashion. But now the Dansko "Professional" is one of the most recognized styles in footwear. Dansko is all about innovating with comfort and style in mind. Try them today and see why they are many people's favorite brand.
- This product is unavailable or out of stock.


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Load on my guitar!
By: dannycroft
Video Details
Date: 1 year ago
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10 months ago
Would love to see more of the guitar! Can you do another guitar fuck video? I think guitars are very erotic. Maybe you could hump it and rub your cock on the strings for a bit and then cum on it!
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Official start lists for Day of racing at the Australian Open are now available.
Follow the links below to view the morning and afternoon sessions.
Live streaming will also be available during the event, follow the link below.
|Other Links
|Start List - Morning session
|Start List - Afternoon session
|Live Streaming


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The two day editorial/fashion/backstage styling program offered insight and education on the behind the scenes of magazine, advertising, fashion show and celebrity hairdressing. In addition to demonstrations recreating Oribe's iconic looks from the past three decades, the attendees were given hands-on styling on 150 models. Led by Oribe and his education team, all looks were created using the Oribe line of styling products. The program culminated in a mini fashion show and photoshoot of the finished models.
"I've never been to an event like that before in my life," says Jack Panico, owner of the Panico salons in northern New Jersey. "I feel like all of us here are at a moment in time that is truly special. We are working with an icon and learning things we would never have an opportunity to learn in any other way. We are really making history." We were all wow-ed!
"In my 30 years of hairdressing I have never been to anything that compared to Oribe Backstage... it was unreal. The excitement that we felt throughout the weekend was over the top... we experienced history! "


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Kate Beckinsale visits yoga instructor six times a week
Kate Beckinsale is dedicated to daily sessions with celebrity fitness instructor, Mandy Ingber, who claims the star is ''very disciplined''.
Kate Beckinsale visits her yoga instructor six times a week.
The 'Total Recall' actress is dedicated to daily sessions with celebrity fitness instructor, Mandy Ingber, who claims the star is ''very disciplined'' when it comes to toning up her figure with Hatha/Vinyasa Flow yoga practice as well as maintaining a healthy lifestyle.
Mandy told E! News: ''She has great genetics and a great attitude and is very in touch with her body, I started training with Kate four years ago, and now it's the only exercise she likes other than hiking.
''She doesn't eat any sugar whatsoever, basically a lot of chicken and salads. She's very disciplined! She's one of the strongest people I've ever worked with! She can do anything.''
Mandy - who has also worked with Jennifer Aniston - even claims Kate is a natural when it comes to the difficult poses performed during the workout.
She explained: ''Kate is also great at warrior three pose, which tones the glutes, inner thighs and calves, as well as chair pose and half moon pose. These are all balancing exercises that use a lot of muscles and we'll add in hybrid moves like squats and holds to exhaust the muscles for extra benefit.''
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Connoisseur: February 2010: Strategy: Winter Green
With the right tools and a little imagination, you can garden all year long. Four design pros show how. View the slide show!
January 2010: The Ultimate: Chicken Potpie: Petsi Pies
Generally speaking, most restaurants' potpies aren't really pies: They're crocks full of chicken and vegetables in sauce, with a scant layer of puff pastry serving as crust. For the real deal, head to Petsi Pies, which crafts its version in…
January 2010: Connoisseur: Register: A Household Name: Jonathan Adler
EDITOR'S PICK The clean lines of Adler's airy, colored-glass light fixtures, like this Capri lamp ($275), keep the look sophisticated. BESTSELLERS From wacky psychedelic patterns to bold graphics, these customizable pillows ($98–$298) are the way to throw. SHOP CLERK'S FAVE…
Taking Inventory: Winging It
Best for Your Wallet: Corey Lynn Calter's equestrian-print silk scarf ($68) comes off both French-sophisticated and American-quirky. Coveted by the Shop Clerk: A bold Aztec-inspired print funks up this Dolce Vita dress ($175), while the casual silhouette flatters all shapes….


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Held on 8/26/2012 - 8/29/2012 at Hyatt Regency Grand Cypress in Orlando, FL, United States
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Categories > Books > Harry Potter
Season of Love1 Reviews
Draco/Ginny; When Draco gets put out by Ron he pays him back by kidnapping Ginny and taking her into the Forbidden Forest. While there Ginny makes the bold decision to show Draco the love of Christ...
Season of Love
(#) dragontalongirl 2005-12-28 06:52:39 PMGreat story! I f you could please write a sequal. Good job! ^-^


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Updated: September 10, 2012 1:06 AM
Justin Bieber's sports car off the road over missing number plate
The Baby hitmaker was given the Fisker Karma, a luxury sports hybrid, by his manager Scooter Braun and mentor Usher for his 18th birthday back in March (12), but he is now not allowed to drive the vehicle until the back plate is replaced.
A property manager working at the star's California home noticed the license plate was missing on Saturday (07Sep12) and called local police to report the problem, according to TMZ.com.
It is not clear whether the plate fell off or was stolen.
Copyright (c) WENN 2012, All Rights Reserved.
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My sword is sharp; my stead is strong and my blows, they keep striking the enemy dead.
These, my dear, get me one day closer to coming home, to your open arms.
As the sun sets, again and again over this blood-soaked battle field, it is the memory of your tinkling anklets, the smell of jasmine that graces your dark hair, and the red of your kumkum that really keeps me alive.
The war torn days, they run into each other, stumbling over thoughts of you.
My men are here today, gone tomorrow. But I bear the weight of their untold stories. The futile prayers to keep them safe, that reach here too late, are louder than the clashing swords.
My love, these words of mine, etched in paper might not reach you soon enough.
Shed a tear for me, darling, cry for me.
For, I am the fool that abandoned the warmth of our hearth to fight a war; its meaning, long lost amongst the severed limbs of its soldiers.
He did not know if it was the click of the latch that jolted him awake. Or if he heard the click because he was already awake. All he knew was that, when the night was at its darkest, the latch on the door to his room had clicked as it opened.
The absolute darkness in the room terrified him. Someone had turned off the light in the hallway that kept his room safe from the night. There were no soft footsteps but he knew that he was not alone in his room.
He did not dare make a sound but he was sure that his heart was pounding loud enough to wake up everyone in the tiny flat. He lay frozen, tangled up in his bed sheet, waiting for whatever was coming to get him. His near blind eyes searched the darkness for any movement. Even the limp curtains, that he was sure covered the windows on the far side of the room, stayed invisible. He shivered as he imagined the cold hand that would reach for him any minute now.
This night reminded him of that dark night, so many years ago, when he had entered his tiny room intent on solving a problem. He had not cared enough to be quiet, that night. Armed with a pillow, he had done what his mother had asked him to do. Leela's cries had pierced the night, followed by his wife wails. The little house that had been rid of a baby girl's tears, woke up the neighborhood that night.
Now he lay in his lumpy bed and heard the darkness rustle as it drew closer. He tried, in vain, to get up and out of the bed. His limbs had betrayed him years ago, and his voice had been reduced to a hoarse whisper. He felt a whimper escape him as his fear soiled the bed beneath him.
He whispered a name as the thick fleshy hand, clutching a pillow, headed for his face.
Sajeev stood by his father's burning pyre, his eyes tearing up from the heat. He remembered the other time that he had squirmed, from the flames being this close. He had been 6 years old, holding his father's hand. He had stood watching his baby sister's funeral pyre. Leela had been 2 days old when they had lost her. His father had stood then, where Sajeev stood now, impassively staring at the fire.
His mother had cried for years, after Leela died. She never said a word after the night her screams woke up the neighbors. She remain mute till the day a heart attack finally killed her. Luckily Sajeev, being out of town on business, had missed his mother's funeral.
Growing up, he had for years, despised that baby girl who had stolen his happy family from him. His father bore his mother's silence nonchalantly. He had kept up a constant chatter, ignoring her lack of responses and always taking her silence to mean that she agreed with whatever he said.
His father had been bed ridden for many years now. Sajeev had watched in dismay as the strong old man dwindled down to bones and whispers. He was too far gone and his suffering seemed constant. Sajeev's family, as a result, remained impatiently shackled to their tiny 2 bedroom flat while his father lay wasting away in one of the bedrooms.
He grew tired of watching the fire that was still burning furiously. He turned to leave, reaching for his son's hand. The boy's 7 year old hand fit nicely into this thick fleshy one. As he walked away from the fire, he realized that he did not care enough anymore to wonder why his father, as he breathed his last, had whispered Leela's name.
I packed my bags with trepidation and a few clothes. My mother, more confident of my cooking skills than I had ever given her reason to be, packed yet another sachet of her homemade masala. "Anu, are you sure you don't want to take a mixie with you when you go?" she asked me again. I assured her that the kitchen appliance was the last thing on my list of worries. I then sent her on a quest to find my long forgotten pair of jeans. I had been in Kerala for over a year, and I could count on one hand the number of times I had decided that the day called for a pair of skin tight jeans. A comfy pair of Patiala bottoms, a loose top and a chiffon dupatta were always the better choice. The pair of jeans were finally unearthed, held at arm's length to judge if I had had one too many biryanis to actually fit in them and stuffed in the suitcase a tad vehemently.
I was ready. With tickets, passport, worried parents and a heavier than allowed hand luggage, I had all the signs of flying to foreign lands. I had grudgingly left USA, the year before, after having stayed all my visa-allotted 6 years. Lawmakers, in their infinite wisdom, had mandated that the likes of me had to be exiled for a year before being allowed back in the country. Now, a year later and armed with a brand new visa, I was headed to the country where, I had been sure, I belonged.
Chicago in February is, there is really no other way to put it, very cold. The sudden chill you feel in your bones is not the realization that your parents are no longer a 4 hour train ride away. It is the kind of deep freeze that you, living most of your life in a country straddling the tropics, couldn't possibly fathom. The winter and its trials are painful but fleeting. Spring rolls around and you realize you have clean forgotten how deathly cold it had gotten mid-winter. Cold, white and relentless, that's how Midwest winters often are.
A year had done nothing to the country I remembered. But I wasn't quite the same person who had left its shores a year ago. I now missed home, terribly. It was an unsettling feeling, with all the subtlety of a tooth ache. I missed the drama that had been in every little corner of my day when I was back home. I missed the people who made me laugh, the people who drove me stark raving mad and even the ones who broke my heart a little at a time. I had forgotten how lonely it was to away.
The bland days, the sterile conversations, the dizzy sense of days running into each other finally drove me back. If I had given it a few more weeks, the sights and sounds of home, branded in my mind, would have dulled. Phone calls and Skype would have rubbed away the smell and the touch of my own. Mindless routine would have stupefied me enough to forget the noise, the crowds and the heat of where I belonged. My happy days would have soon filled with the ache of a long run down a trail, the smell of a just mowed lawn and the clink of a wine glass toasting a day well spent.
I chose not to let that happen. As I packed my bags, with the sachets of homemade masala only half empty, I couldn't help but smile. I had come a long way, and now home beckoned. Home was where the dust covers my sandals-clad feet at the end of the day. It was where a crispy masala dosa is never too far away and the people who make my world brighter are right by my side.
These, to me, are just not worth trading in.
The handcuffs pinched her wrists when she tried to shift around in the backseat. A giggle now rose up in her throat as she watched the carnage outside. She saw her son's hockey stick lie on the sidewalk, innocently. Movies had made shattering windshields seem so easy. It had taken her a few tries, but in the end, the glass on the snooty German car had been no match for her fury. The noisy cops did not take kindly to her kicking and screaming as they cuffed her.
"No one steals a parking spot from me, NO ONE!"
He lay on the cooling sand, unmoving. He pretended to be staring at the purple sky, in the grips of some deep thought. His prone form hinted at inebriation, real or imagined one couldn't be sure. The stars hadn't shown up at their haunts yet. A few months ago, in the clutches of pointless nostalgia, he had declared that the stars and the night sky of his homeland were decidedly different and infinitely better than the one he was forced to gaze at in the US. But now, watching the tardy stars light up the sky, he wasn't sure that was entirely true. Even if it were true, he realized that the difference in the skies and the stars seemed terribly inconsequential. He had more immediate, larger worries to consume him.
The throngs of sunset gazers had found something less stunning to occupy their evening and had left the beach in his sole custody. The dispersing crowd had signaled the end of the duty for the overly cautious beach guards. The guards often wielded their whistle mercilessly, blowing it furiously at anyone daring to step out of line of the approved beach behavior. Right now, no one seemed to care that he lay there, lost in thought or maybe on the verge of a nap.
The famous lighthouse on the beach stood ignored like a still-hanging Christmas ornament in January. The red and white of the lighthouse only made it look more forlorn. He lay there and let himself be assaulted by the fumes of expensive fish cooking on the grill in the many restaurants on the shore. The smell of the fish swimming in the ocean, awaiting a similar fate as the one on dry land only added to the hopelessness of his repose.
He was sure his mother would smell the fish and the ocean on him. She had made him promise earlier in the week, to stay away from bodies of water. She had explained that the family astrologer thought that deep and unbridled sorrow awaited him if he did not stay away from large water bodies. He had nodded in uncomprehending silence and did not bother to argue. He was sure that the astrologers mastered the art of being fastidiously obtuse when they learnt how to match horoscopes for weddings.
The photographs his mother sent, starting early last year had often been fuzzy. It needed him to peer and squint at his laptop screen to discern anything more than the general idea of the girls in them. The backgrounds of these fuzzy photographs were comforting in their monotony. A few were easily identifiable tourist locations in the US. But most of them were shot against the backdrops of clapboard apartment complexes and parking lots. The same generic bushes, trees and foreign made cars became the canvas for the pictures of girls with coy smiles.
He had realized early that his mother favored a certain type of girls as her son's future wife. They were the ones who wore a wraithlike aura like their ill-fitting clothes. Their faces were often fair and blemish free, arms reedy and thin, and their hair never shorter than shoulder length. He often thought about the heavy, short haired, dark skinned women whose fuzzy photographs and backdrops he would never see. His mother, like the mothers of all his friends expected a decision to be made in the time it takes to order at a drive-thru. All his life his mother assured him that she knew better than him, warning him often about the dangers of bad decisions. Alarmingly, at the threshold of the most important decision in his life, she had said "You know best, you decide!" And he had no choice but to decide on one fuzzy photograph.
The likes and dislikes of the chosen girl were just as indistinct to him as her photographs had been. They had had weeks of first awkward then platonic phone conversations. Her hobbies, his ambitions and their future had been clinically discussed. When an appropriate number of phone conversations had been reached, his mother had decided that it was time. Engagement was to happen the week of his return from the US, the wedding a couple of weeks after that. Jet-lagged and bleary eyed, he had been engaged to the girl the day he met her in person. Now, he lay on the beach wondering what the heck was going on.
He was clear headed enough to know that his situation had very little to do with him. He was helplessly bound by the pursuit for acceptance from a moody society. He could not do anything that would jeopardize the society approved, in-ostracized life where happiness was almost an afterthought. His mother needed him to stay the course. Letting her down would seem akin to murder, his overly dramatic mind solemnly whispered. It would be infinitely easier to go along with what his mother decided, he knew.
It wasn't that he did not want to be married. He had no other girl on his mind either. But he was worried that he would be getting married just because he had nothing better to do. If that was not ridiculous, he did not know what was. But the alternative was to simply float along and try not to make a ripple. Now that seemed unimaginably stifling. He could almost see himself 5 years from now, doing exactly what he was doing right now, but with an EMI for the house, screaming child and an even-tempered wife for company. Was that what he wanted? Did he really want anything else?
This last year, he had watched with dismay the procession of his friends changing their Facebook statuses and profile pictures, each featuring a slice of their marital bliss. He wasn't entirely sure that kind of happiness existed out of well-choreographed photo shoots. He knew what was coming next. In a couple of years, the smiling husband and wife in those photographs would morph into balding, thickening men accompanied by women who had sacrificed their former stick thin figures for the sake of a beaming child. He would have to grudgingly "like" those pictures on Facebook as well, a price to pay for keeping the friendships alive.
His friends dismissed his trepidations as cold feet and assured him that this was how it happened for them as well. They hardly knew the women they married and now look at them; they announced not noticing his growing alarm. They flaunted their domestic bliss as proof that this was the best decision they ever made. He wasn't sure that they made any decisions either, but like they said, what did he know.
So he lay there confused and unmoving, seemingly waiting for a divine intervention. He would have appreciated anything that would take the decision out of his hands. The waves now seemed louder than when he had first gotten to the beach. He did not dare to look up at the water but he suspected that the water might be inching closer. Maybe the waves would close in, take him in and make the decision for him. But his brand of cowardice did not condone suicide, he realized.
That's exactly what he was, he realized. A coward! If he was anything but, he would have dusted himself off and told his mother that this marriage could not happen. He would have acted like the adult that he was and figured out what it is that HE wanted to do. Not what his mother, the society or anyone else wanted him to do. There would be tears and unamendable rifts and he would have hurt people in the process. But at least his life would finally be his own, and all the tears his own making.
He sighed. He could never work himself up into frenzy with thoughts like these, he was sure. They all sounded like way too much work to him. Wouldn't he rather continue to play the role of the obedient son than rock the boat? He was so comfortable in the way things were. And existential crises were so inconvenient. He wasn't worried about being called a coward. Being a coward was what awarded an uncomplicated life anyway. There really were no decisions to be made here, was there? Everything that needed to be decided had already been decided by everyone around him. He simply needed to stay alive to see them realized.
He got up off the now cool sand and dusted himself. He had been saved a lifetime of tribulations and needless anguish by lying on the beach unmoving. An examined life was overrated, he thought as he nodded to himself and walked towards his car. He had been drifting placidly for as long as he could remember; wouldn't it be foolish to change that now? The dark night seemed to sigh in assent as he drove away with the smell of the ocean in his hair. He felt a sense of relief that, the body of water notwithstanding, some great sorrow had been averted just in time.
The rain was unrelenting; the way monsoon often was in Kerala. The rhythm of rain on the rooftops remained a permanent soundtrack to your day for months. You loved the falling sheet of water from the relatively dry balconies, but the whole monsoon experience was quickly sullied by the logistics of getting to class semi dry or learning to skirt the deceptively deep puddles on the side of the road.
The memory of the damp pants, the never dry socks and the urge to hold up your open palm outside the safety of your umbrella, stayed fresh, long after the rains had disappeared.
Rain often snatched the steps of the college amphitheater and foots of trees from being the stage for lovers' conversations. The stranded pairs had to make do with the stolen words in crowded corridors or with notes passed noiselessly during class.
For some, the falling rain turned into an excuse to share an umbrella. It was under one such shared umbrella that he first hummed that tune to her. She only half listened, concentrating instead on the heat of their touching forearms. This heat would remain with her the rest of the evening and long into the night. She would toss and turn in the night, remembering that fleeting sensation. The tune that he hummed, did not register until after he had left, after walking her to the hostel. That night, as the shared heat lay forgotten, haunting tune kept her awake.
When she met him after class the next morning, she pressed him about the tune under the umbrella. He feigned ignorance. There was no such tune, he told her amusedly. Her persistence combined with the dramatic and impossible threats of never speaking to him again, had him hum that tune for her again. It had no words yet, but words were perfunctory. At that moment in that silent corner of the corridor, in the presence of that magical tune, she fell irrevocably in love with him.
Some of her memories wantonly slipped into oblivion through the leaky walls of the box where they lived, never to be seen again. But other memories, they lay quietly in a quiet corner of that box refusing to leave; sometimes needing only the slightest nudge to bring them back to life. The memory of their walks, sharing an umbrella and so much more, was the kind that had refused to leave the leaky walled box.
She heard that tune once again, years later, on a summer night when her husband sat working on the sofa. She was in the kitchen, minding the stove that held the boiling results of a dinner thoughtlessly put together. The TV, the soundtrack of their marriage, stood forgotten watching the sofa. When she heard the tune play on the tv, she gazed instinctively out the kitchen window, expecting rain to blur the sights outside.
She walked out of the kitchen, remembering first to save the dinner from the flames that were plotting a ruin. The tv continued to sing the tune which brought with it a flood of memories and a hot rush of tears that threatened to spill everything. She sat on the sofa quietly, scheming to protect her unknowing husband from the aftermath of her cowardice.
The lady on the tv gushed about the movie, soon to be at your nearest cinemas, that had the most wonderful songs. The songs she promised, composed by this new music director, added color to the faded and overused stories that passed for screenplays these days. Her inane monologue thankfully changed to yet another verse of that tune.
He had chosen the words to her tune well. The tune sang about love, one that had blossomed when fed by the rains. The singer sang the words with the bewilderment of one who could not believe the beauty of the romance that had chanced on him. The song ended with the joy of reciprocated love and the hope of a life together. There was no mention of what came next.
The song had ended but it continued to ring in her ears, exactly like the first time she had heard it, under that umbrella. The tune that had been a monument to the love she had been sure she could not survive without, mocked her now. That tune had revealed a love that had been all consuming. But it had chosen to hide so many things from her. That tune had failed to prepare her for the harsh reality that followed the beautiful start of love. It chose to stay quiet about the pain of saying goodbye to him when the gates of the college closed behind them one last time. The tune had masked the hurt and disappointment in her father's eyes when she explained why she could not marry the man he had chosen for her.
She flinched now, remembering the betrayal shining in eyes of the man she wanted to call her own, when she told that her family mattered more than his love and his tunes.
So she became the wife of another man and excelled at it without a complaint. She endured the seasons of the year, slowly erasing the taste of regret that every monsoon brought with it. Every year she pushed yet another memory out of her consciousness and another conversation with him ceased to exist for her. She now made new memories to fill that box with leaky walls. She learnt to live, noiselessly chafing at the chains her life had wrapped around her. But now, this memory that bubbled up to the surface shook her. She remembered the heat of his skin and shivered. Her husband, working and lost to the faceless clients on the other side of the world, knew nothing of her soundless turmoil.
Next morning, the rain was a blessing from the heat. She woke her husband, shocking him with an ask so foreign that he could not deny her. A tune flitted out of a parked car as they walked. She chose not to hear it. She listened instead to the lilt in the voice of her husband as he talked about nothing at all. She listened to the splash of the puddles as they decided to test their depth. She squirrelled away the music of her daughter's laughter as she ran ahead, holding up her little palm up to the sky.
Today, she would choose to let an old tune and its memory disappear through the leaky walls. Today, she would walk with her family, not caring about a destination; sharing everything and an umbrella making a new memory that would last a lifetime.
I am in a restaurant, with French in its name, accompanied by my hapless parents. I am often faintly irritated by restaurants that serve only wholesome keralite food while calling themselves something completely foolish like "Le Bistro". But that's a discussion for another day.
I assure you that I am usually level headed, unless you get to enjoy my company when I am starving. If I am deprived of food, then all bets on good behavior are off. Close friends and family will vouch with worried looks that hunger indeed transforms me into, what seems to them, a twin headed monster with swords for words. My parents, resigned to having a daughter who can be happy only when her tummy is full, suggest I hit the buffet line, like right now!
I don't see or hear anything until a few minutes have passed and a couple of idlis have found their way down my throat! My parents breathe a sigh of relief, another crisis seems to have been averted just in time.
It's only then, after my one track mind had been mollified, that I pay attention to the sound flitting through the speakers of the restaurant. I realize that I am listening to Savage Garden wanting to love me truly, madly and more importantly, deeply. I am filled with intense self loathing as the song changes and I catch myself soundlessly and perfectly mouthing the words of another Savage Garden song, puke-inducingly called "I want you".
It's an instant flashback to 15 years ago, to that fat emo teenager who spent hours listening to the brand new Australian group who were surely going to change the face of pop music. I even remember shelling out the necessary 150 rupees to buy the Savage Garden cassette tape. When you know that this was a girl who was notorious in school and college for being supremely tight fisted, you begin to understand the import of this decision.
I shudder, thanking the Universe for my seemingly better taste in music these days. I suspect that re-watching High Fidelity last night seems to have made my already healthy contempt for bad music, worse.
I grudgingly realize, silently singing along to Savage Garden, who now wants to crash and burn, that nothing can be done about the bad songs that have already sneaked into my brain, left their mark and have refused to leave.
Some days, an image of a woman in a little black dress and a man with slicked back black hair in a suit, floats into my consciousness. In the dark bar, lit only by muted lamps, Dean Martin sings, as the cello helps. They sit, enjoying their drinks. They seem to be in no hurry to get anywhere, probably because there is nowhere they would rather be. They listen to Martin confirm their suspicions. They hold hands, they have love and so they aren't "nobody" s anymore.
Its images like these that have caused me to be accused of wandering blissfully with my head in the clouds and of being a hopeless romantic. I believe that those accusations are not completely baseless. When the romantic sensibilities were handed out, I might have gone back for seconds.
I would be lying if I did not say that my wonderfully blasé existence is often perked with the thought of these candy floss-ish images. The unattainability of that romantic perfection is probably what keeps me hooked and drives me away at the same time. No matter how perfect the real life is, it really couldn't match up to the sun, surf and guitar combination of Jack Johnson songs, could it? I don't think so!
The people around us are tarnished by real life. The charm of Joe Fox or Kathleen Kelly is missing when you spot scenes from "You've Got Mail" happening to you. The carefree repartee is often spoiled by awkward pauses in real life and the unpredictability of a happy ending keeps the movie scenes from playing out the way they should.
When compromise, comfort and dependability rule our 30's, I can't help but wonder where the dreams of a drama that belongs in the life of Carrie Bradshaw would fit. Carrie had gushed to my muddled mind of my 20's that she was looking for ridiculous, inconvenient love. That seemed to have stuck with me, with no sign of letting go. But my real life married friends tell me, with authority, that ridiculous and inconvenient love is just that. It's not the kind of love that lasts a life time, they warn me. But what do they know; they haven't seen it all play out in my head.
The complete lack of interest in having a life ruled by kitchen dramas, kids' class schedules and unbreakable routines sometimes leads me to re-examine the boon of my romantic proclivities. The inevitability of these decidedly humdrum destinations dampens my enthusiasm in any budding real life romances. The images in my mind, free of unmet expectations beckon instead.
The struggle is exhausting, between what will be and what can be. When it gets to be too much, and realization that I may never find what I seek sets in, I don't waste any time. I promptly lock my door, pull down the shades, light a candle, pour a glass of wine and let The Beatles hold my hand. I chose the image of the perfect love over the blemished real life one, any day.
P.S. References for the uninitiated -
Dean Martin- http://youtu.be/tdGU0NaSZ54
Jack Johnson - http://youtu.be/5U7rDh8x-Lw
You've got Mail- conversation awesomeness http://youtu.be/yRPwDJWhqis
An over dramatic Carrie Bradshaw -
The Beatles
Scene - Someone asked me, "If all your books were taken away from you and locked up for a month, what would you do?" I decided such a dramatic question warranted an equally dramatic answer.
My response!
A childhood memory swells up in me. My grandmother is pointing out how a few sparrows had made themselves home in the quiet corner of the outhouse of our family home. I remember her sing-song tone as I stared at the sparrows mesmerized, opening my mouth distractedly, as she fed me while spinning her yarn. She regaled me with stories of what the sparrows were up to in their little twig filled home.
I slept the nights with my grandmother on soft cotton mattresses those days, with an old sari of hers as a bedspread. She would lay next to me, stroke my hair and whisper stories of far-away kingdoms, till i slept. I don't remember those wonderful stories, but I remember how I felt when I listened to them. Those magical stories were my first escape from whatever life crises' over dramatic 5 year olds experience. My grandfather probably noticed the glazed look on my face as I listened to my grandmothers stories and realized what he had there. He handed me my first set of Amar Chitra Kathas and the rest, as they say in that totally clichéd usage, is history.
I discovered nooks and crannies in my childhood home and embarked on the journeys between those pages. I was a terrible playmate, often dropping off in the middle of the game to return to the lands that existed only in the shared imagination of the author of those books and me. It has been a love affair that has changed me in ways that I couldn't even begin to take stock of.
If I had to live without my books for a month, I would pine like the broken hearted drama queens of the pages I love. I would miss the faraway lands and their stories, I would miss the people who are real to only the few like me who read them.
When I was done mourning, I would find people who shared my heartache and have long conversations about the pages that had changed us. I would write a few not so great stories to escape the locked in existence. I would dance long and often, so that I don't miss the crinkle of the turning pages as I lay down in bed, waiting for sleep to take me. I would wait out the 30 days of exile, counting down to that wonderful day when the locks would open and I would be free to dream again.
The first time I met her, she was a sweet young thing of 16. She was not, what you would call, breathtakingly beautiful, but she exuded a sense of wounded vulnerability that was perfect for my needs. Her nose was a little too small and her eyes set a little too wide apart. Her saving grace was her gorgeous straight golden hair that ended half way down her back. It was a bright day full of promises, the first day I met her. She was in the parking lot outside her school, in the car of a boy 2 years older than her. The boy in the car was himself embarking on the journey of a doomed life. His life would soon be peppered with arrests. He would be dead before he was 30 in a knife fight outside a biker bar somewhere in Ohio.
She had taken the joint from the boy and breathed it in deep. She had enjoyed the first strange tingling in her fingers and toes. She had felt a giggle rise up in her throat. She had squelched it with another deep hit. I tried out the space on her back and it seemed comfortable enough. I settled down for the ride of a lifetime. The smoke filled the car as she got the hang of smoking the joint. Her head had grown foggy with pleasure.
The fog of marijuana had cleared and she had reached for the poisons of the stronger kind. She was no longer the hesitantly beautiful child woman. The bags under her eyes and the short unruly mop of hair had aged her beyond her 20 years. Her mother had noticed that her nails had been bitten to the quick but had said nothing. Her father had averted his eyes and had refused to take in her stick thin scarred arms. Her parents' denial had worked in my favor. We lived blissfully, from score to score.
Her back was now my permanent home. The pain of not scoring was easily forgotten every time we felt the golden pleasure of poison through our veins. An inopportune purchase had ended with us in trouble with the law. The handcuffs and the night in the jail had scared her. The judge, a snickering old man on a pedestal, had used a patronizing tone as he warned her against me. A 30 day rehab was ordered to fix her. We had been whisked off to that place where the broken souls were sent to be redeemed.
The rehab had been chaotic to say the least. They were many like me in there, fighting hard to stick with their reluctant rides. She and I had started to fight every day. She had listened closely to the quack that ran the group sessions. The quack had first-hand knowledge of my kind's tricks and he taught her how to ignore my whispers. He had taught her how to be strong and not to give in to my lies and cajoling. The irony of her parents' twice a week visit strengthening her resolve seemed to be lost on everyone but me. I worried that my hold on her was slipping.
Some days, when she was especially vulnerable, I would sweet talk her into reliving the pleasure of the syringe. Those days she would be convinced that what she needed was to bust out of that stupid rehab. But before she could act on it, it would be again time for one of the group sessions. My hold on her had became positively shaky.
Our relationship was never the same again after that stay in the rehab. She listened patiently to my pleas to score some poison, to take one tiny hit, to go on one little ride. But she never gave in to my incessant whispers. She started frequenting church basements for meetings. She talked about me with anonymous strangers; her tone loving sometimes, but other times filled with barely concealed loathing. Lately, when I whispered, she fingered a chip in her purse. She had been awarded that chip for by those anonymous strangers for resisting me for many months.
She had a family now. Her husband's voice now seemed louder than my relentless pleadings. Her parents were always around now. They had the persistently nauseating look of things having worked out. The way she hugged them, it seemed like she had forgiven the perceived injustices of her childhood.
One thing she and I knew for sure, she would never rid of me. I would always ride her back, whispering, pushing and fighting. Never mind the years, the many visits to church basements or quacks telling her differently. Someday, when the time was right, when she was wounded and vulnerable enough, she would listen to me and try that poison again. Till then, she would just have to fight me, one day at a time.


text:
Bakersfield Heart Hospital is designed for maximum efficiency. Patient rooms encircle nurses' "pods," so your needs may be met as quickly as possible. All patient rooms are private and designed with comfort and convenience for both you and your family.
Around-the-clock visiting hours, family members and loved ones are encouraged to be present and involved in patient recovery/rehabilitation.
Patient rooms also include a recliner, a built-in cabinet for your personal belongings, a television, and a private bathroom.


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Hi, I quite liked this. Had done a similar exercise but in a slightly smaller scale and for internal purposes only. Was glad to see that I was not alone in doing this.
But I have a detailed question; you mention "Leiden Ranking" but as far as I know there really isn't such a thing. Well, of course there is the website, but the user can pick and choose the indicators and ways to normalise etc. How did you come to choose the option you did out of so many?
Hi Justin
Our rector wanted to spread your compilation among our deans so you should expect some more traffic here...
Anyway regarding the Leiden ranking it seems to me that when you go to the site, the default choice is to rank by PP (Top 10%) but also to "Normalize for university size" and to "Leave out non-English language publications. Now, if you only remove "Normalize..." our rank changes from 246 to 97. And I am not saying you should, but I am just saying that the decision should be based on something else besides what the default settings are. Because quite clearly they are not "without any applied filters".
What is the total number of universities appearing in all 9 rankings. I suppose it's higher that the top 100 shown in the list.
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Posts Tagged «tesla»
One $75,000 Tesla catches fire, $4 billion in market value goes up in smoke October 4, 2013 at 9:47 am
This week, a video of a Tesla Model S that caught fire on the road was uploaded to YouTube. The incident brought Tesla's valuation down 15%, to the tune of a $4 billion drop. However, the fire wasn't brought on by the car itself, but rather, something it hit.
Self-driving cars will hit the streets by 2020 says Nissan at CEATEC October 3, 2013 at 11:08 am
With Nissan's chairman behind the wheel, a modified Nissan Leaf EV scoots around trade show at 12 mph. In an announcement at the Frankfurt Auto show a month ago Nissan moved up the timetable on self-driving cars to 2020. This week at CEATEC, Japan's big electronics show, Nissan chairman Carlos Ghosn reiterated the timetable and rode around (quite slowly) in a functioning self-driving car.
Tesla Motors will put a self-driving car on the road within three years September 18, 2013 at 2:34 pm
Elon Musk's upstart contender in electric cars has now set its sites on autonomy, and aims to have a self-driving car on the road long before Google and the major car manufacturers.
Tesla readies mass-market Model E while other EV makers tread water August 27, 2013 at 1:56 pm
Look for an economy ($30,000) compact EV as Tesla moves to a fuller line. No one gets huge selling only $70K cars.
Tesla Model S gets best-ever crash score, but that might mean tests are outdated August 21, 2013 at 12:38 pm
Tesla claims its Tesla Model S is the industry's safest car by virtue of Tesla's deconstruction of government crash results that give Tesla a 5.4 rating on a scale of 1 to 5. Is Tesla blowing its own horn loudly in a public place or is the electric vehicle pioneer suggesting we need better crash tests? Perhaps both. Three years ago, the government revamped test procedures because the results looked like report cards at Harvard where mostly everyone got an A. It may be time for another rework.
Hyperloop: Hypothetical pipe dream, or the most important invention since the car? August 13, 2013 at 10:13 am
Late yesterday, Elon Musk finally unveiled the Hyperloop: A partially evacuated tube, where pods floating on air bearings and accelerated by linear motors will travel between San Francisco and Los Angeles in under 30 minutes, at around 760 mph — just under the speed of sound. While this sounds exciting, it's important to bear in mind that the Hyperloop — if this hypothetical mode of transport is ever built — serves a very niche need and will probably have almost zero effect on 99% of the world's population.
Hyperloop revealed: It's a big, long, magnetic air hockey table August 12, 2013 at 5:20 pm
A year ago, somewhat eccentric kajillionaire, Elon Musk, revealed that he's been cooking up a new transportation system that would carry passengers roughly 700mph — almost the speed of sound. Dubbed the Hyperloop, Musk said the system would somehow only cost $6 billion. The Hyperloop has been shrouded in mystery, until now.
Elon Musk: I'll release the Hyperloop plans, but I'm too busy to build it myself August 8, 2013 at 7:13 am
In a disappointing but not wholly unexpected twist, Elon Musk has admitted that his Hyperloop — a proposed mode of transport that will get passengers from LA to San Francisco in 30 minutes, traveling close to the speed of sound — is "extremely speculative." Furthermore, Musk also says that he doesn't intend to build the Hyperloop himself — rather, he will publicly share his plans on August 12, and then let other people build it.
Electric vehicles vs. hybrids: It's all about the eGallon July 24, 2013 at 11:03 am
Electric vehicles are off to a significantly faster start than hybrids. The reason might be the cost of an eGallon.
Tesla demos 90-second battery swap tech, coming to Supercharger stations in 2013 June 21, 2013 at 10:40 am
If you thought that Tesla's network of Superchargers, which can give your electric vehicle 200 miles of range in 30 minutes of charging, was too slow, Elon Musk's company now has an even better solution: Swapping your depleted Tesla Model S battery for a fully charged battery in 90 seconds. That's less time than it takes to refuel your gas- or diesel-powered car. This technology, dubbed Battery Swap, will hopefully come to Model S owners in California in 2013, with the Boston-Washington D.C. corridor sometime after that.


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Let it be known that on this day, I declare my candidacy for the 2014 Governor of the great state of California. My name is Angel Garcia and I approve this message. (Paid for by the committee to not elect Angel Garcia for Governor). #ImWithAngel
Disco Cube! (Taken with GifBoom)
First batch of Café TaBrewba almost done! #beer #GrooveCityBrewery (Taken with GifBoom)
Tiki Love on the hike
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Missed a round and still came out second winners! #trivia #congregationalehouse #longbeach #beer (Taken with GifBoom)
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Twitter Staples
I've been stuck at Staples for the last hour waiting to pick up a poster. Bored, I began going through my list of Twitter followers. Some of you people are pretty damn interesting.