text:
PITTSBURGH (AP) - The Pittsburgh Penguins are still determined to finish as the NHL's best team - despite a recent slump.
The Penguins rebounded from a loss on Saturday and beat the league's worst team on Monday night as goaltender Marc-Andre Fleury stopped 24 shots for his fourth shutout, a 3-0 win against the Buffalo Sabres.
"When you play 82 every one isn't going to be perfect, but we're trying to be the best, not just into late June, but every game," Penguins head coach Dan Bylsma said.
Chris Kunitz scored his 26th goal and Deryk Engelland netted his fourth, equaling a career high. Tanner Glass scored his first goal in 26 games, a late empty-netter that sealed it for the Penguins, who won for the 15th time in 16 games at home.
Sidney Crosby, who leads the NHL with 74 points, added two assists to extend his points streak in games against Buffalo to 16 games, matching his longest streak against any team.
Fleury, who leads the NHL with 29 wins, registered his 27th career shutout, tied for second in the league. He helped preserve the win, denying Buffalo's Brian Flynn two minutes into the third period before following it up with a right-pad stop on Matt Moulson on a partial breakaway a couple minutes later.
"The first one was pretty close, and I was worried he might have cut across, so I tried to take his options away," said Fleury, who is one victory away from reaching the 30-win mark for the fifth-straight full NHL season.
"Moulson, I was trying to be patient because I know he has good hands," he added.
Fleury was better on the play, giving his team a sorely-needed lift after a slow start to the period.
"We chipped some pucks out in the beginning of the third period, kind of sitting back, and they shoved it right back at us," Bylsma said. "Marc got stuck with those two glorious chances against. the two great saves he had to make."
The Penguins are in command of the Eastern Conference, leading Boston and Tampa Bay by seven points in addition to a 15-point cushion on the New York Rangers in the Metropolitan Division entering Monday.
But Pittsburgh has struggled recently with a lackluster home effort last Monday against Florida - 15th in the 16-team Eastern Conference - and a 3-0 loss Saturday at Dallas.
It wasn't perfect, but the Penguins were able to turn it around on Monday.
"We still had times when we weren't getting pucks deep, turning it over, and giving them chances to get back into the game," Kunitz said. "Our goalie made a few great saves, a few that went through his body, could've hit somebody and went in the other way."
Goaltender Ryan Miller stopped 31 shots for last-place Buffalo, which has lost seven of nine.


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Seafood Palutuan: paluto
Favorite Dish: (last date visited - June 2, 2007)
Paluto (cooking fees)
1) 1/2 kilo tanigue/kinilaw - PhP 90
2) crabs/deep fried - 150
3) maya/ miso soup - 100
4) squids/adobo - 100
misc. expense:
a) rice bowl - 100
b) ice tea pitcher - 130
c) water - 70
d) service charge - 30Related to:
- Food and Dining
- Road Trip
Seaside Market - Dampa (Macapagal Ave.): Seafood
Favorite Dish: (last date visited - Oct. 6, 2007)
1. alimango - 260 pesos/kilo
2. squid - 230 pesos/kilo
3. sea shell - 130 pesos/kilo
4. hipon - 280 pesos/kilo
- look for Trinity Ihaw-Ihaw Restaurant
Lot 5 A Seaside Market, Macapagal Ave
Pasay CityRelated to:
- Food and Dining
- Luxury Travel
Gram's Diner: Gram's Diner
Have always been very curious about this restaurant as I have passed by it for sometime (usually when we go to lamesa grill). Had my chance the day i got the last harry potter book. Although I was planning to order someething ala carte, the waiter suggested I try their buffet. At 125p, it is very cheap. They had several breakfast staples - omelette, arroz caldo, corned beef, toast, daing na bangus. Their buffet changes every day. A lot of their clients are those people who jog at the bayside and the workers at a nearby call center.
Favorite Dish: Buffet - 125p
with 10 and 12%evatRelated to:
- Food and Dining
La Mesa Grill: A restaurant "we" can be proud of
La Mesa grill is the "Pinoy" Shabu-shabu and/or the "Pinoy" Teppanyaki...
It's dim enough for a date, cozy enough for friends and it's also nice to bring your family and office mates too
Operating hours: 11 a.m.-12 midnight
Favorite Dish: Sisig, P150; Tinapa Roll, P90, Sigarilyas sa Gata, P150; Kinulob sa Asin na Tilapia (P45/100g) o Apahap (P60/100g);
Must-try: Crispchon, which Lamesa Grill calls "ang aming bida." Available in four serving sizes: one whole (P2,900), one-half (P1,450), one-fourth (P780) and one-sixth (P480)
Also try to soups and the combo meals (good enough to share)
=)Related to:
- Food and Dining
- Family Travel
Shakey's: Pizza and Pasta
One of the first pizza parlor in the Philippines. Aside from pasta and pizza, Shakey's expanded their list in the menu and improved the taste to cater to the taste of the Filipinos. Spaghetti is a little bit sweet since Filipinos love sweet loving people. They also served crispy hot chicken with mojos on the side. Vegetable salads (Caesar and Fresh Green) are also available for vegetarians.
For those who want to taste little of everything, they also served bunch of lunch (one slice pizza, one piece chicken, small serving of spaghetti, 2 or 3 pieces of mojo). They also have variety of plate serving depending on what you are craving for,
Favorite Dish: Mojos... i miss themRelated to:
- Food and Dining
Thumbs Up Ice Cream: Little Ice Cream
Five miniature Ice cream scooped in sweet waffle cone and mounted on a colored cardboard. At least, for the price of 26 pesos, you can taste at least five flavors of ice cream of the famous Magnolia brand of ice cream. If you're still craving for ice cream, nobody will stop you from ordering another set of different flavors. hahahaRelated to:
- Food and Dining
La Mesa Grill: not delicious...
Favorite Dish: (last date visited - June 22, 2007)
a) Lamesa Combo - PhP 345
b) 3 steamed rice - 75
c) bottomless ice tea - 50
d) bottomless lemonade - 50
e) coke lite - 45
total - PhP 565
vat - 67.80
total amount - PhP 632.80
- not delicious
- totally unsatisfied with the taste
- disappointed with their La Mesa Combo meal
- wont eat here again...Related to:
- Road Trip
- Food and Dining
Chef de Angelo: Italian Restaurant in Town
Fast food type of restaurant located at the first level of the mall. Chef de Angelo boasts a number of pasta, pizza and salad to choose from. We thought that each order of pasta was too small for each person that is why we ordered additional pizza and buffalo wing. The serving of each pasta is more than enough for one person who is on weight watching. We only tasted one piece of buffalo wing because we were already full and the rest were brought home. Maybe because we did not asked, but the waiter should have informed us that what we ordered to much for a family of 5. :-)
The interior of the restaurant was themed as a kitchen. Vats and pans are hanging on the ceiling as decorations. Walls were also decorated with closets similar to a kitchen where basic food ingredients are stacked.
The thing that I don't want is that some of the waiters were already cleaning the floors and turning the tables upside down in preparation for closing even though there are customers who were still dining in.
Favorite Dish: Buffalo Chicken WingsRelated to:
- Food and Dining
Pink Pepper: I'll be back! =)
by Jordy Lee
Pink Pepper is a chic new restaurant in Mall of Asia's esplenade that's attracting many customers because of its ideal location fronting Manila Bay & its affordable yet sumptuous Cuisine de France.
The restaurant takes its name very seriously, so much so that it has incorporated the pink pepper in every single dish - yes, even the dessert - on the menu.
"We usually sprinkle a handful of pink pepper on a small serving plate for our customers to try. They're curious, often asking us, what exactly is this pink pepper?" The taste is a cross between something savory & sweet, and of course, it has a peppery kick to it. The rosiest of all peppers adds color and a unique flavor to each dish.
On weekdays & weekends alike, you'll often see groups of 5 to 6 people enjoying a colorful sunset of oranges, reds and yellows as they sip on a glass of white wine or a cold bottle of San Mig Light. The place is classy, but not prententious. It even doubles as a hip lounge/bar after hours, when racy music videos are projected onto the wall above the bar, making everyone inside involuntarily bop their heads to the percussive beats.
The stout upholstered chairs are a favorite, allowing customers to recline as much as they please while in intimate conversation with fellow diners, or while relaxing in perfect solitude with their eyes closed. Yes, Pink Pepper is the perfect place to unwind and to relax after a day of all work and no play. The following line-up from Chef Seiji Kamura's kitchen should not be missed: perfectly baked Filipino mussels (Tahong, Php 180.00, sprinkled with butter and garlic); salmon wrap (Php 420.00, incredible presentation); shrimp with arugula salad (Php 255.00 , I'm partial to arugula); and the signature dish, the Pink Pepper Steak (Php 430.00, a soft and tasty beef tenderloin, with the added allure of the pink pepper).
Favorite Dish: I have yet to have a favorite...
(the price depends on what you order...they are a bit pricey, but they do have "group" meals that are...reasonable or within budget)
Pink Pepper Co-Owners Ces Ramirez and Vilma Medina (who calls France home when she isn't in the Philippines), take pride in their restaurant. It is, after all, the only place in the Philippines that serves its eccentric and mysterious namesake on fine china, imported from the markets of France and straight into your gastranomical experience. (by Jordy Lee)
I decided to use Jordy's article because I share the same sentiments...
=)Related to:
- Food and Dining
okuya: reasonably priced
my main agenda every time i go to moa is to eat in okuya. it's like i pop by only to feast on the same food over and over again
Favorite Dish: lunchbox worth 150p consists of miso soup, sashimi, 2 shrimp tempura, 1 fish tempura, vegetable tempura, beef sukiyaki, rice
Lamesa Grill: Lamesa Grill
One of the nicer restaurants facing the Bay, it is partly owned by Senator Francis Pangilinan. They have a nice setup for big groups like reunions, birthday parties, etc.
The long table on the left (upon entering) is where you can grill the food, much like a shabu-shabu setup, hence their name Lamesa Grill, literrally meaning Table Grill.
Favorite Dish: Sisig with Egg - 160
Bottomless Iced Tea - 50
Lamesa Combo - 345 (Shrimp, Blue Marlin, Chicken, Lengua, Squid, Liempo)Related to:
- Budget Travel
Burgoo: American Bar and Restaurant
We were enticed by the promo (order 2 major course and and a chicken kebab is free).
While waiting for the order, we scribble with color at the paper on top of the table which serves as table mantle. This made us busy for a while.
During lunchtime on weekend, the place is full eventhough the price of food is a little bit high. The owner of the restaurant was there to ask the customer if everything is good and if there are still pending orders.
Favorite Dish: Seafood JambalayaRelated to:
- Food and Dining
Taste Asia: Taste Asia
Taste Asia is located outside the North Building of SM Mall of Asia. Houses different restaurants ranging from: Filipinos (of course), Chinese, Indian, etc.
There's a fresh seafood stall where you can buy by the kilo and have it cooked for you.
There's a stall for Chicken Barbeque (Reyes Barbeque) - the family is an institution here, this stall is owned by the grandson of the owner of Aristocrat Restaurant.
Favorite Dish: We ordered:
1. Cebu Lechon - 1/4 kilo is about P130. The meat was a bit cold to my taste, but the skin was perfect! Super crunchy.
2. Bibingka - P40 for 1 cake. There were other bibingka with better taste (Ferino's for one)
3. Nestea Iced Tea Rush - P25 per bottle. Quite a profit since if you buy this from the supermarket it's about P16 only!Related to:
- Budget Travel
KKK: Filipino Food with a bit of a twist
The name certainly gives it a recall, it being named after the rebellion movement in the 19th century. It also updates old classics, and comes up with new concoctions. For one, they serve Singang na Lechon and they slather bagoong sauce over Lechon Kawali (I don't know if you eat Lechon Kawali with bagoong, but I know I don't). They also serve delicious Kamias and Sampaloc Shake.
The price is a bit steep, and I could probably get a slightly better meal for the same price. But the service is good--they will serve the food a few minutes after they get the order. The staff are friendly, too. The interiors are one of a kind. I just love it.
Favorite Dish: I wasn't too impressed, but I did enjoy my Kamias Shake,Related to:
- Food and Dining
Taste of Asia: Asian Food
my personal comment:
- expensive
- small quantity
- not delicious
better to eat in Congo Grill/Gerry's Grill than this resto...
Favorite Dish: (last date visited - June 4, 2006)
1. kimchi (korean food) - 28 pesos
2. kare-kareng pata (filipino food) - 112 pesos
3. sinigang hipon (filipino food) - 134.40
4. rice - 11.20 pesosRelated to:
- Food and Dining
- Road Trip
- Backpacking
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subset: commoncrawl


text:
Deviant Art
Critic vs Writer: A Conversation of ReconciliationI am a book blogger.
Since not everyone is familiar with the term, I'll go ahead and lay it out for you. I read, analyze, and write about books. I give my opinion on characters, setting, genre, style, and sometimes even covers. I say what works, what doesn't, and what I'd like to see.
In short, I criticize.
Back - back foul demon! Burn the witch! Don't come anywhere near me!
Yeah, I know you're all thinking it. What gives me the right to rifle through someone's hard work and put its flaws on display? Who do I think I am, slandering authors with false interpretations and quotes made out of context?
I'm a writer.
Yeah, of nothing but muck and lies.
No, no, I mean I write my own fiction. Or at least I did.
What, couldn't take some of your own medicine?
Yes and no.
Like most writers, I crave exposure. I want my work out there, read by the masses and enjoyed. DeviantArt, my blog, they're both small outlets where my writing can be seen.
But, as most writers
The Order of Sublime SimulacraKamon woke to the sound of bells and saws. The ceremony must have started hours ago; there was invigorating yellow sunlight outside the gauzy curtains. Kamon's Self was intoning eight o'clock, eight o'clock with all the insistence of a song looping in his head.The Order of Sublime Simulacra5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Flesh brain, he thought, you should have caught that alarm. Sometimes the flesh was louder than the devices supposed to make it properly quiet. The flesh insisted on the persistence of the Real. This was exactly the type of lesson that the brothers were supposed to learn, and Kamon hoped that relaying to the abbot how thoroughly he had learned it might lighten the inevitable punishment that came from reminding himself of himself. (Of course, that punishment would still be severe. He was going to arrive at the ceremony so late--)
On the orders of his Self, Kamon moved blearily out of bed and into the shower. (Rules For The Sanctum Three and Four, said his Self. Wear a clean robe. Wear a clean body.) Li
Forgiveness EconomicsGenesisForgiveness Economics3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
But for the small purple stain on its border, the banknote was non-descript.
It had a value but men value things in different ways and by different means. It had a value, but its value is not it's story.
It landed on the church plate face up, coming to rest softly on the flat silver base amongst the loose change like it was tossed to the cloth of a gambling table, soundless but with a small sense of resignation. A man paying for luck, a man asking his God for a favor.
It came from the wallet of a small sad man, who feared the Good Lord daily. The banknote was the weekly price of his penance, the bill of sale for those half-remembered crimes of a misspent youth and other things unmentionable.
The small sad man's hands were fat and white and callouses sat on his thumb and forefingers, the scars of a bank teller, a money counter, a man who knew about value. The hair on his head was grey and his eyes were blue below his wrinkled forehead and tonight would be the last time he
To Write of HorrorTo paint a scene of mythic horrorsTo Write of Horror3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Take dim lit room and darkest corners
Find a child huddled there, cradled tight in his despair
Silent here for not his murmurs,
murmuring out a prayer
He asks the keeper keep to keeping
While all his guardians tucked in sleeping
Ignorant of the shadows creeping
Slow across the hallway floor, standing now outside his door
Somewhere near the sound of breathing,
breaths too heavy to ignore
Then just outside there raised a howl
A distant boom and monstrous growl
Envisions he a ghostly cowl
Afloat across the yard in prowl
Come to steal his soul away, curtains hold the fiend at bay
With scrapes across the window scowls,
scowling out in its dismay
The shutters joined the fray with flapping
Hard against the walls their rapping
While all around began a tapping
With no relent unceasing clapping
the pitter-patter's endless lapping
Solace to the boy then came, raptured from this fearful bane
Slowly drifts his mind towards napping,
napping through a night of rain
Queen of GeeksUnexpected end to kidnapping caseQueen of Geeks4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
[Sunnyvale Tribune 23 Feb 2007]
In an unexpected development, police have closed the case against the kidnapper of twenty year old Nicole Cantrip. 'The circumstances surrounding Miss Cantrip's alleged disappearance have become clearer,' Inspector Frank Jones told the Tribune, 'and it's come to light that the case was filed in error. There is no evidence whatsoever that a kidnapping took place.' Since Cantrip is over eighteen, the applicable missing person legislation is almost non-existent, much to the dismay of her mother.
'Something has gone horribly wrong when a girl can be forced away from her family by people she's never met and it's called normal,' said a tearful May Cantrip. 'Nix wouldn't have abandoned us, dropped out of all her classes and left everything behind unless
somebody was forcing her.' Mrs. Cantrip claims that her home was invaded by several men who demanded that her daughter accompany them to what she describes as 'a k
Deja vu. Again.I had moved here two weeks' ago, but had never visited this section of town so late at night. I had been invited to the pub by my neighbour, to make me feel welcome. An hour ago, she had phoned to say she had been asked to work overtime, and wouldn't be able to make it. Seeing as I was there, I drank a couple of cocktails. I was now walking back home.Deja vu. Again.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Drunken people yelled out across the street. A couple of cars drove by, their horns blaring as the inebriated stumbled into the road. A bright yellow car stopped, flashing its headlights. A woman in a red dress banged on the window. The passenger door was opened, and a shouting match started between the woman and the driver. The woman slammed the door closed, and walked away. My stomach churned. I felt as though I had witnessed this before, and a weird protectiveness came over me. I had a strong urge to warn the woman about her actions, but warring partners were not unusual on a night out, and it wasn't my place to offer advic
Pausing By The WineMarriage isPausing By The Wine3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the frustration of reality
when the man who works the wine section
pauses in his tracks to make sure
you've found everything you "really need...are you sure?"
With a look that tells you
he finds you sort of beautiful
and you wonder how your life
might be different,
if any man other than this one
had ever looked at you like that.
the Chandler's Around the WayThe hose slipped out again. Chan cursed, and shoved it back into the incision he'd made, adjusted his mask, and bent over the pump. He yanked the cord, and the pump started to life with a cough of biodiesel. It bounced on the sand as it grumbled away. Chan kept one hand on it and held the hose in place with the other.the Chandler's Around the Way3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
If fucking Fathers would spend the bone on a new one, I wouldn't be all night at this, Chan grumbled. He ached for a smoke, but didn't have the hands to spare. Plenty of hands here, he thought as he glanced at the riverbank. Some of them even had a pulse.
"Hey," he said to whoever was closest.
It was a sunbather. A walker who drew enough bone to slot time on the beach without having to fight for it. She had each arm draped around a man, both of them tattooed in the same place with the same sigil. Chan was jealous. Someday he'd have his own numbers, but they'd be women. All of them. He was old-fashioned like that.
The walker answered without raising her sungl
Imitating NatureThe morning sun streamed through a series of large plate glass windows lining the library's east wall, its rays warming the room's wooden paneling and illuminating the cavernous space. Tall bookshelves stuffed with literature from across the world towered over polished oak reading tables, each furnished with a plain, green-shaded banker's lamp. On the far side, a massive painting gracing the west wall depicted the solemn face of Saint Patrick, whose protective presence could be felt watching over the library's sole visitor.Imitating Nature3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
All was perfectly quiet, save for a tap, tap, tapping that echoed in the otherwise silent room. Seated at a desk near the door, glued to the screen of his laptop, Eoghan quietly tapped his pen against the notepad in his lap as his eyes scanned through the different news reports.
Another roadside bomb outside of Kandahar, three dead, all soldiers. God frowns upon careless mistakes gentlemen. You should have noticed the dead dog along the side of the road.
Russian RouletteThey take her on her honeymoon.Russian Roulette3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The wedding was lovely, or as lovely as it could have been with a couple that were more polite acquaintances than anything else and two sets of in-laws as stuffy as a dusty pile of money. They grab her when she sneaks out for a walk one night, two men, beefy, not even bothered to arm themselves. Her last thought before the bag is shoved over her eyes is to wonder how much this would ruin her parents' plans.
She comes to in a small brick room on a sallow mattress, windowless and lit by a cool yellow lamp. There's a man there, standing just outside the barred door.
"Kelly Shale," he says, voice nasally, greasy greying hair half-covering his forehead. She's not sure if it's a question or a statement.
She counts the days by watching the guardsone on day shift, one on night. They're probably the same men who took her, but they stay too much out of her field of vision to really tell. It takes until the third day for the woman to come.
'Meil,' they call h
The Waste WorldShe said create the world, so I did. I made it dark and dusty, coughed up from my own black lungs. I gave the trees an ashen hue and the ground a color to match the starless sky. The creatures were murmuring oozes, globs of drying acrylic that inked across the orb of my bubbling imagination.The Waste World3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Repulsing, it was in fact the product of an industrial mind. I was born from man's smog goddess and, if memory serves me, her breath was laced in exhaust which I inhaled nightly with her songs. She was soothing and complacent, her voice smokey like a hazy bar. No one could deny her features were hideous beyond belief. Her skin dripped pollution like morphine into veins, into deep red rivers to turn them ebony and clogged. Her eyes glistened obsidian, sharp and cold if you didn't know her at all. I knew she was lost and ashamed, as her mother, my grandmother, would often remind her of the destruction her presence caused. I loved her like grandmother nature never could.
Grandmother was ,indeed, a gra
The FountainThere were sixteen tall windows. She'd counted them over and over when she was small, her chubby finger outstretched as she spun in tiny circles. Eight walls, sixteen windows, thirty-two black curtainsthe arithmetic of her childhood.The Fountain4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Eight window seats, Daddy. Eight buttons on eachsixty-four. I counted."
The fountain stood dry and dead-center in the middle of the black and white tiles. Eight sides, eight lion-mouth spouts. Sixteen limestone mermaids poised gracefully around the edge. Four thousand and ninety-six blue tiles. Five hundred and twelve white.
And two doors. Always the two doors, huge and solid and radiating a sense of looming disdain. The rough oak had bitten her hands and it bit them now, when she pressed her palms against it. The doors eased open like wings outstretching, coming to rest against stone doorstops.
Her boots clicked against the marble flooring as she advanced, each click reverberating through the silent room. A mute ghost of a man stood in
The Origin of the InternetThis is the story of Compudites and Internedes great gods of knowledge and communication. It is a story of their love for each other. It is a story of their betrayal at the hands of Hermes the messenger. It is a story of Internedes' destruction at the hands of Zeus. And it is a story of how, with the help of Athena, Compudites was able to be together with Internedes once more. It is the story of how and why humanity got one of the greatest resources ever known the internet.The Origin of the Internet4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Compudites was a kind and gentle god, frail and limited in power, but boundless in intellect a patron of sciences, mathematics, and technology. He was the guiding hand behind many of humanity's technological breakthroughs throughout the millennia. But just as technology and discoveries in the maths and sciences depend on others to spread them, Compudites was forever dependent on others to spread his knowledge. Hermes the messenger was one, swift like the wind, he helped carry messages between th
The nature of inspirationWhen was the last timeThe nature of inspiration3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
You heard the word 'erection' in poetry?
I think it was a while back
Between the pages
Of reform
And Odyssey.
I mean "humans" don't even play
Bogies anymore,
Or just rise to the thirteen year old tree-house
Inside us all
Where politeness is a foul facade
And we aren't afraid of our fingers.
We prioritise the silhouettes
And forget
The way pressing pen into paper
Made us so
And out of
Inspiration isn't a pretty, pristine river...
It's magma
With taboo,
Like irradiated
And it's about time we became
Mutants too.
It's about time
We let up
And let it
Burn us up
Turn us on
Turn us up
And fine-tune
Our wobbly bits
Into an aphrodisiac
Viagra fusion
Of concussive
So if there's any P.S.
Poetry can teach you
It's this.
Never forget
the word 'erection'.
The Solipsist's LotThere's something about yourself that you don't know. You probably don't remember the circumstances very well, but I do. If you enjoy things the way they are, if you revel in even the smallest speck of ignorance, you need not read ahead. I won't force you. But from what I know of you, you don't like secrets. Especially not when they are about you.The Solipsist's Lot4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You see, when you were born, so at once was everyone else. Your mother, she sprang into existence, just like that, the instant your tiny infant brain achieved the smallest semblance of self-awareness. Woven out of the ether, she remembered everything that never happened, and she looked down at you, cradled and squirming in her loving arms.
"Oh," she said. "So here is life."
The doctor was there too, although a moment before if there ever was a moment before he was not. He just nodded, smiling assuredly, and said, "Here is the beginning."
Harvest MoonThree a.m. moonlightHarvest Moon3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
across lazy dust motes; a
tree scrapes the window.
Your arm weighs on my hip like
whispered promises of love.
grassy field with rustgrassy field with rustgrassy field with rust3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I'd heard about the old car, three miles out of town and all alone. I just had to see it. It was time. School was over for the summer, my friends were at camp, and I was bored. I set out Thursday morning for a hike, following directions that Uncle Will had given me. As the heat was still growing with the climb of the sun, I found the field and wandered around looking, and looking some more, trying not to be distracted by bees buzzing in the flowers, and butterflies and baby mice. Then it was there, just a bit upslope from the bottom of a natural swale, and just below the sky at the top of the bank. A 1959 Cadillac convertible, but not like the old music videos showed.
This one was part buried in grass gone to seed and turned almost white golden with the dry heat. The tires were collapsed cracked pieces and there wasn't a trace of pink paint anywhere. Rust owned it, and it held on so tight that holes were showing in what used
Billy's PterodactylsBilly was in what his mother called 'his dinosaur phase'. He'd been firmly ensconced in this phase for the past six months, ever since his Dad had taken him to see the Natural History Museum in Oxford. The first thing he'd seen on entering was the huge bones of the Tyrannosaurus Rex glaring down at him, and that was it; he'd been hooked ever since.Billy's Pterodactyls4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
In the time since then his entire room had been re-decorated with a Jurassic theme. Dinosaurs were on the bedsheets, the curtains, the posters on the walls, and little plastic ones covered his floor to the point where it was dangerous to walk across it. Unless you were Billy, of course. No dinosaur would dare to harm Billy, who reigned supreme among them and controlled their every move. Billy was in his element and entirely at home within his dinosaur-infested room.
Every now and then the dinosaurs would venture outside of Billy's room, in an effort to invade and infest the rest of Billy's house. On one such occasion his mother inadvertently
Reverse Culture ShockFlying home was not flying home. Flying home meant grabbing the homing pigeon inside of me and twisting its imaginary magnet one hundred and eighty degrees to the north instead of southwards to Australia. The magnet still twitched stubbornly north even as the plane droned over Darwin, five hours before I finally reached home. Except it wasn't home. Sydney now looked as foreign as the glossy travel leaflets I grabbed from Singapore, its shine not quite matching the missing substance of my once childhood home.Reverse Culture Shock4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Thank you for choosing Singapore Airlines I hope you will enjoy your stay in Sydney, or a warm welcome home."
Winter air slapped me like a bucket of ice water as I emerged, searching for my parents and my sister. For eight years, their voices were tinny and masked by static on the occasional phone calls home. Today, they sounded as brittle as ever, Australian accents barely sheathing the chill emanating from them.
"Welcome home, sis," said my sister with an unusually bright v
DragonsThe dragons just kept getting cuter.Dragons3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I'd meant them to be scary, with snakelike heads and pearly fangs, but as my fingers gained more practice the dragons they shaped became younger and more innocent, their wings tiny and their eyes wide. Dull spikes lined their heads and tails, not yet sharpened by age. They lay on their bellies or sat up and watched with good-natured curiosity. They were friendly. They were sweet.
They were flawed, and there were a lot of them. I experimented with color and pose, sculpting the way others would turn a stress ball. Every morning I baked the newcomers in my oven, and within a week my desk was overrun. Rows of dragons pressed against my laptop from all sides. Some I enjoyed looking at. Others were a reminder of some mistake I'd made. Putting the horns on before the eyes. Making the legs too thin so it tilted drunkenly while baking. Not realizing that some clay changes color as it solidifies.
What to do with them all? I couldn't keep them even if I'd want
PressureSomething broke.Pressure3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A hard CRACK while sitting in
a soft chair. No pain registered.
The absence of it
is like watching explosions in space.
You follow the curve of your skull. You remember
how skulls are formed like tectonic plates.
Your head wants to be a planet,
volcanic, living, in change.
You continue to your left shoulder,
the one with all the problems.
But today, it has nothing to say.
Your rib cage moves
like oceanic waves, expecting a storm
that hasn't come.
You stand up,
homo erectus,
you consider your legs,
homo sapiens,
nothing feels wrong,
homo stabilis.
But you can break
more than your body.
The Ring BearerWinds of Spring creeping into open doorsThe Ring Bearer4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
that shrivel dandelions and tulips
and daffodils into collapsed balloons
on green jail bars ring against each other
in the groomsman's hurried breeze. He runs off
into the sunset through the neighborhood
of simple living and suburb golf carts.
The boy's tie is a broken propeller
flipping and flyingnoosed for the gallows
running through gardens from rings that aren't his.
The bride and groom are left, bewilderment
striking their glory days in estrangement.
Conscious Stream From The Chemical PlantThe following is a non-fictional account of a conscious stream that took place during my exploration of a water treatment plant.Conscious Stream From The Chemical Plant3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I was at the office, looking at the wall-sized whiteboard. Around 200 buildings stared back at me, numbered and color-coded. I've been to pretty much all of them, but one unfamiliar number stuck out to me. #41. What a boring number. MUD Platte West, that's a Metropolitain Utilities District. I look up the address and drive. Just to go see it. And by the way, this isn't even a slow day for me, this is mostly what I do.
I drive West for 35 minutes, which is forever in Omaha time. One road, Q St, hills, meadows, an elementary school, more hills. 41 is easy to spot, it's a huge concrete thing in the middle of nowhere. I take the access road to the guard shack, he smiles, lifts the arm and I'm in. the tile is obnoxiously clean. &
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In April, Athina Giovanis, DO, opened a new medical practice in Larchmont specializing in osteopathic manipulative medicine for infants, children, and adults.
Founded in the 1800s on the Missouri frontier by an army surgeon named Andrew Taylor Still who was frustrated with the shortcomings of traditional medical practices, osteopathic medicine is today a widely practiced branch of medicine that focuses on the body's innate ability to heal itself. Doctors of osteopathy (DO) are physicians specially trained in the musculoskeletal system. In other words, Dr. Giovanis says, they "evaluate a person's structural system to see where it might be holding them back or preventing optimal function."
Common afflictions treated by Dr. Giovanis include structural issues like scoliosis, club foot, and cerebral palsy; neurological conditions like chronic pain, post concussion syndrome, and carpal tunnel syndrome; respiratory syndromes like asthma; pregnancy issues from back pain to varicose veins; and breastfeeding and lactation problems.
Dr. Giovanis comes to Larchmont after completing a neuromusculoskeletal medicine/osteopathic manipulative medicine residency at St. Barnabas Hospital in the Bronx, a program known for its rigorous training in osteopathic medicine for newborns, children, and adults.
Dr. Giovanis' practice is located at 2365 Boston Post Road, Suite 201, in Larchmont. For more information, call 914-834-1777 or visit www.westchesterosteopathy.com.
Kaitlin Ahern is Deputy Editor of NYMetroParents. She currently lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn. Kaitlin has a degree in magazine journalism from Syracuse University.
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During early childhood years, children develop at a faster pace than adults, and it is during this period of time that music education can impact a child's learning ability and development as the executive director of The Diller-Quaile School of Music in Manhattan shares.
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