text: 5 biggest obstacles to workplace safety Jun 29, 2015 By Tom ReddonSafety should always be a top priority in any workplace, regardless if you work in an office setting or in a warehouse. However, as evident by countless statistics over the years, workplace accidents are simply waiting to happen. Despite rigorous safety standards, accidents will happen in any workplace. Yet, there is a multitude of ways to cut down on the number of accidents. To improve your workplace's safety culture, here are the five biggest obstacles to look out for:1. Lack of safety training A lack of safety training increases the likelihood of accidents. Safety training is not an option, it is a priority. Often new safety ideologies and methodologies emerge and outdated safety practices are often proven to be obsolete or ineffective. It is essential to keep all employees abreast and aware of safety, so much that is engrained in the culture of the workplace. A lack of safety training is the greatest obstacle to workplace safety.2. Workplace distractionsIt is critical that any forklift operator or any employee maintain superior situational awareness. In an era of high-paced environments with distracting technologies, it is easy for any worker to lose awareness. It is essential for any operator or labourer to pay attention to their surroundings at all times. A common cause of workplace accidents is negligence to various hazards. Distractions can easily impede any operation. For this reason, it is essential that both as a forklift operator and as a general labourer that employees be free of any electronic devices and assure their attention is on the task at hand at all times. This is especially true when handling hazardous materials, dangerous substances or heavy goods that can potentially injure or kill any worker.3. Improper handling of hazardous materials Recent Columns by Tom Reddon 5 forklift handling safety tips every warehouse should follow Training employees on how to operate a forklift In many instances both forklift operators and general labourers fail to read material data sheets and appropriately handle hazardous or unsafe materials. This practice can fully pose to be a dangerous obstacle with deadly consequences. Before handling any substance, it is paramount to don the appropriate personal protective equipment (PPE) and further be dressed appropriately to work with potentially volatile substances. Learning HAZMAT placard codes can also serve as a great tool to any individual attempting to decipher what class of materials they are handling. Improper handling of these varied materials can result in a spill or contamination of the facility, the results of which can be quite grim. Proper handling of unsafe materials and adherence to all safety protocols will reduce the likelihood of a serious incident within the workplace. Nevertheless one of the biggest obstacles of workplace safety is ignorance of this very concept.4. Fatigued and dehydrated personnel This obstacle is unique and far varying from the other three, yet it is a direct physical threat to all employees. The greatest obstacle most workers have are themselves and this is even more true with a tired and dehydrated worker. Simply put, workers will not perform at their best unless their body is treated at its best. A tired or dehydrated forklift operator or general labourer is far more likely to improperly handle material and less likely to be aware of their surroundings. Furthermore, dehydrated workers are at a higher risk for heat stroke or to develop cardiac conditions. The severity of these conditions can be deadly. In addition, fatigued personnel place all other workers at risk. It is essential that management drive frequency of breaks and assure all subordinates are hydrated and ready to perform. It is imperative to take frequent breaks and drink 12 gallons of water on those long, hot summer days. In addition, it is essential for employees to attempt to sleep eight hours per night to assure adequate energy for the next work day. In gruelling conditions that often accompany many material handling applications, this is absolutely imperative.5. Lack of emergency preparedness In the event of an emergency, a comprehensive plan can assure all employees and workers are protected from potentially deadly consequences. Sadly, many employees are unsure if such a plan exists. In many occasions, management ignores this precept and thus preparedness standards are terribly low. In the event of an accident, the implementation of recovery policies and procedures can serve as a framework to handle the most complex of scenarios. From these action plans, a course of action and a chain of command are implemented. It is essential that all employees know what to do in a variety of emergency situations. Failing to establish this foundation is a great obstacle for any workplace and can cause significant collateral damage in the result of an actual emergency. Tom Reddon Tom Reddon is a forklift specialist and blog manager for the National Forklift Exchange. He also sits on the Material Handling Equipment Distributors Association (MHEDA) Executive Dialogue team. Follow him on Twitter at @TomReddon.


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For 4K-5th grade. In this series, kids will "Dive In" to the life of Peter and learn what it means to follow Jesus! Meet in the Kidz City Theater.
Back to All Events
Earlier Event: June 5Children's Summer Kick-off Party
Later Event: June 6End of the Year Party (Student Ministry)

subset: commoncrawl


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- Please call us for FREE help:
- (866) 531-0695
Amedisys of Northwest Florida
16348 Cortez Blvd Unit B, BROOKSVILLE, FL
- In-Home Care
Payment Options
- Medicare No
- Medicaid Yes
- Veteran's Benefits No
- Long Term Care Insurance No
- Subsidy Available No
User Reviews
Description of Amedisys of Northwest Florida in BROOKSVILLE, FL
Amedisys Of Northwest Florida, located in Brooksville, Florida provides the following services: In-Home Care. It accepts the following payment methods: Medicaid. Amedisys Of Northwest Florida has received 5 stars from Medicare and an average user review rating of 5 stars. Amedisys Of Northwest Florida has a very good hospital, Brooksville Regional Hospital, located nearby, which scored a 86 out of 100 in its most recent Medicare review. The Amedisys Of Northwest Florida's nearest hospital is 1 miles away. The zipcode (34601) in Florida, where Amedisys Of Northwest Florida is located, has a below average safety rating based on recent crime statistics. A more detailed description of the types of care for Amedisys Of Northwest Florida can be found here.
Amedisys of Northwest Florida is an in-home care provider. In Home care could be either medical ("skilled") or non-medical ("custodial") support services delivered at the home of the senior. "skilled" service providers who usually provide various medical care needs and "custodial" care providers who provide services for daily living such as bathing, dressing, and meal preparation but may also extend to assistance with transportation, paying bills, making appointments, and simply being there to provide companionship and emotional support. Home Care services are generally available 24 hours a day, seven days a week and are sometimes paid for directly by the client or through a variety of public and private funding sources such as Medicare and/or Medicaid. Make sure you know your loved one's Medicare and Medicaid eligibility, and understand how you can use tools like long term care insurance to pay for in home care.
Source: SNAPforSeniors, Inc.
Demographic Profile for BROOKSVILLE, FL, 34601
Cost Of Living
Compared to the National Average
Provided By EPA; Closer to 100 is better
Annual Crime
Nearby Hospitals
Brooksville Regional Hospital17240 Cortez Boulevard
Brooksville FL 34601
Oak Hill Hospital11375 Cortez Blvd
Brooksville FL 34613
Nearby Drug Stores
Wal Mart Stores East Lp13300 Cortez Blvd
Distance: 4.0 miles
(352) 596-0797
Sams East Inc13360 Cortez Blvd
Distance: 4.0 miles
(352) 592-4795
Walgreen Co13053 Cortez Blvd
Distance: 4.0 miles
(352) 596-0314
Nearby Churches
Brooksville Assembly of GodPO Box 245
Brooksville, FL
Distance: 2.2 miles
Mariner United Methodist7201 Mariner Blvd
Brooksville, FL
Distance: 3.4 miles
Spring Hill United Church4244 Mariner Blvd
Brooksville, FL
Distance: 3.4 miles


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Hey there, I'm Nici, a lifestyle and wedding photographer as well as a Graphic Designer living in New England. I'm a sucker for sunshine, my pup and all things creative. I could eat Mexican food every.single.day...no joke...give me all the guac and tequila ;). I'm a "Reality" TV junkie (just ask my husband!) and I'm pretty sure I'd die without Bravo and TLC. I love big chunky jewelry, seltzer water, fresh cut flowers, and the Sunday Jeep trips with the husband and pup to the local farmer's market.
For as long as I can remember I have loved creating and thinking outside the box (now might be good time to apologize to my parents for that one time I scotch taped photos to every square inch of my bedroom door). After graduating college in 2006, I began work as a Graphic Designer. The job was great and allowed me to hone my skills as an artist. Shortly after, I realized I needed more. I made the decision to further my passion and offer my photography and design skills to the public. With a love for what I do, a creative eye, and a goal to treat all customers as family, I started nlbCreative. I've been shooting professionally for over seven years now, but have been a photographer all my life.
The memories you want to remember are those I want to photograph. It's always precious when you can look at an image and hear the giggles of your children or can tell what they are thinking from the sparkle in their eyes. The genuine smile that comes across your face when your significant other leans down and whispers in your ear. It's special when I can capture the real and true memories that take you back to a moment in time. A father wiping his daughters tears on her wedding day. A childhood best friend toasting the newlyweds. A bride stepping into her wedding gown. When the day becomes a reality.
Your story starts here…


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I have this secret place right off the malecon that I eat at. Hardly any expats eat or frequent this place much. In fact the only people who know about this place are the locals here that work on the malecon. It is kind of hidden behind the Crazy Lobster, and is next to the laundry I go to. There is never a big crowd there, and they have great internet, probably the best in town.
The name of the place is Oaxaqueria, and they serve food from Oaxaca, a region here in Mexico.
"Oaxacan cuisine is a regional cuisine of Mexico, centered on the city of Oaxaca, the capital of the state of the same name located in southern Mexico. Like the rest of Mexican cuisine, Oaxacan food is based on staples such as corn, beans and chile peppers, but there is a great variety of other ingredients and food preparations due to the influence of the state's varied geography and indigenous cultures. Well known features of the cuisine include ingredients such as chocolate (often drunk in a hot preparation with spices and other flavorings), Oaxaca cheese, mezcal and grasshoppers (chapulines) with dishes such as tlayudas, Oaxacan style tamales and seven notable varieties of mole sauce. The cuisine has been praised and promoted by food experts such as Diana Kennedy and Rick Bayless and is part of the state's appeal for tourists."
Today is Saturday, so I will probably go by there for lunch. I eat there a lot on the weekends, and when there is no ship in town. I can eat a good lunch and get on the internet with no problems there. My favorite there is the Huarache, with carne molida, (ground beef), I eat a couple of these a week. I sometimes get one to go to take back to my place on the way home.
The ladies there are all originally from Oaxaca, and have been in business here several years. I think they are the only restaurant in town, that serves cuisine from Oaxaca. They are open for breakfast and lunch from 8am to 2pm, and then reopen and 6pm to 10pm on the evenings. They are closed on Wednesdays. They also have coffee, juices, and other beverages.
So if you are in Mahahual and you want to try something different like food from Oaxaca, go check them out, they are very friendly, and the food is good. They serve tacos, picadas, quesadillas, garnachos, and a bunch of different things. Also I have heard their breakfast there is good also.
So if you can find them hidden off the malecon, check them out. Just try to keep this place to yourself, I don't want my secret place to eat to get out.
Thanks for reading,
Stewart Rogers USA-South Carolina


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Steve Irwin would have been 50 yesterday. He was an idol of mine (I am also a zoologist, after all), and I can remember many afternoons spent gawking at the television thinking 'I WANT TO BE HIM', as he ran around generally being awesome. (Yes, a lot of people thought I was nuts. And still do.)
He strode out there into the world and hopped on the back of a 16-foot crocodile, all in the name of conservation.
You can learn a lot from a man like that. Here are three lessons from ol' Steve-O. Surprisingly, they apply to writing!
Steve Irwin was one of the most outgoing personalities on television. You could see the passion in his eyes and hear it in his voice as he talked about a rogue kangaroo or injured tiger shark. Even now, I can't say 'Crikey!' without a smile on my face. He wrangled crocodiles and poisonous snakes for fun, which is not something the majority of the population can empathize with. In fact, a lot of people thought he was downright nuts.
That's what happens when you're really passionate about something. People will think you are nuts. Ignore them, and give them a reason to wonder if maybe they're missing out on something. I used to collect animal bones from the woods (I know), and recreate their skeletons on my parent's porch. (I know.) This is an inherently crazy activity, but I DID IT because I'm passionate about animals, the same way I'm passionate about telling stories.
When writing, you need to find this passion and hang onto it for dear life. You've got to find the beating heart underneath all the words on the page and cling to it, because there will come a time when you're wondering 'WHY am I writing this again THIS IS TOO HARD can I just give up eat a box of Tim Tams* instead?!' (This happens several times during the writing process, and is totally normal.)
For some people, the passion is the act of writing itself. For others, it's a small kernel of truth behind the words. A theme. A character. Even a single line (that will probably get cut in the end but who CARES because it got you to finish your book?)
When you have passion you have confidence. This doesn't mean you'll always succeed, but it does mean you'll have the guts to put yourself out there and make mistakes that will change your writing (and career, ultimately), for the better. It takes confidence to screw up, too.
Passion is also contagious, as evidenced by the number of viewers that Steve regularly got tuning in to his show. He gave people an outlet into the wild world, who would otherwise have almost zero contact with it. How many times have you heard 'if you don't enjoy writing it, no one will enjoy reading it'? It's true, you know. It's a huge risk to put yourself on the page and write something passionate, but the payoff is worth it, as you'll end up with more eyes on your words.
Just like you can't wrangle a crocodile without knowing what you're doing, you can't write a story without adhering to certain rules – at least until you know how to break these rules effectively. I think I have a somewhat unique perspective here, as someone who has wrangled animals and writes, I can say that the two activities are quite similar. Both are intimidating. Both require a strong stomach. And both require learning some lessons from the School of Hard Knocks**. (And yes, in both cases people often regard you as somewhat insane. Have you noticed a theme here?)
How do you learn the craft? Practice. You put in your time. Steve was out there as a toddler playing with snakes, testing out his confidence and fine tuning his intuition. He was also growing more in love with the natural world. Your practice also feeds your passion. You don't become skilled at wrangling crocs overnight, just like you don't become a skilled, published writer after a week-long binge of reading.
Writing courses, meeting like-minded writers, or a boatload of books on the craft of writing are all useful, but you don't need me to tell you how to practice your craft. Just do it. Passion without craft is unfocused and while you'll gain a lot of experiences from it, you might not finish what you start. Passion plus craft is a recipe for getting stuff done well.
Steve wanted to change the way people saw scary animals, so they had a protected place in this world. He wanted to show that all animals, regardless of whether or not they could poison you at a moment's notice or snap you in two, were valuable in and of themselves. His goal was very simply, to be a good conservationist. He just did it his own way.
I can't tell you what your goal should be. All I know is that when your goal is to simply better your own situation, you'll probably end up feeling like crap a lot of the time. There's a reason that the happiest people are those who help others. I like to write stories that make people laugh, or connect them to interesting ideas they hadn't thought of before. You know that feeling, when you close a book and immediately start thinking 'I wonder what they're doing right now'? I want to give my readers that. Because I think that's one of the most magical experiences there is.
When you focus on what you're giving and putting out there in the world, the return becomes a lot less important. It's something to lean on when you're stuck and something that will connect you to a whole community of writerly people going through the same thing. It's also what will resonate long after you're gone***.
Now your turn: what non-writing activities have taught you about writing? Have a go in the comments!
* Tim Tam: an incredible chocolate cookie made in Australia. If you haven't tried a Tim Tam Slam and can't find them in your city, let me know and I will send you a box of Tim Tams. Every writer needs them.
** In both writing and wrangling, mistakes sting. Luckily with writing, fewer injuries require Polysporin.
*** Thanks, Steve-O. (22 February 1962 – 4 September 2006)
2 thoughts on "How Writing is Like Wrangling Crocodiles"
I mourned Steve Irwin so much. Still do. I have an orange baseball cap with his likeness on it that I was wearing when I heard he'd died. I <3 Steve Irwin and you and the lessons you shared here.
Oh, and I found bleached bones in the desert to piece back together. We're so kindred.
*makes it my personal mission to find Tim Tams*
I love this! I also found him refreshingly original. He did try to fit a mold or chase a trend. He was himself- and some of my favorite episodes are the early ones where he made a ton of mistakes- falling off the boat, etc. Learn by doing 🙂
Great article! 🙂


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Featuring free WiFi, Arundel House is set in Kinsale, 2.7 km from Charles Fort. Free private parking is available on site. Certain units have a seating area to relax in after a busy day.
Note: Map is an approximate indication ONLY. Please contact Arundel House for directions and precise location prior to your visit.


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By Shalom Agtarap
Confession: It's been a few years now that I've studiously exercised my ordination to preaching and teaching the Word of God. We've got high rates of biblical illiteracy (it's no fun and not kind to talk over peoples heads) and I'm often preoccupied with things not included in my ordination vows (newsletter creation, sitting in coffee shops to get a feel for the community, mind-numbing meetings that don't actually create disciples). All of this makes for a less than rigorous study and teaching routine.
It's not entirely surprising to me then, that the Spirit of God moves in spite of me and, after a few sentences into my sermon last Sunday, the Word arrived.
"Zechariah, due to his doubt …
On the first Sunday of Advent, we explored the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah and I was supposed to say, "goes mute." Instead I said, "…was forced to listen."
In the first chapter of the gospel of Luke, Zechariah is visited by an angel that informs him he and Elizabeth will be expecting a child. He's incredulous because of their age and it is his doubt - his apprehension, his curiosity - that causes the Angel Gabriel to make him mute. The line I was prepared to say was "Zechariah, due to his doubt, was made mute for Elizabeth's entire pregnancy."
But it's not simply that he couldn't speak. It's that God created the conditions for him to listen more deeply. As a priest in the temple, I can only imagine what he heard, what he saw; what God wanted him to hear, what God forced him to see. Without the temptation of speaking, he could perhaps listen with the ears of the heart. I am certain this enabled him to hear beyond the words into the spirit consciousness. (It's that whole, turning off the flashlight in the woods so that your eyes can adjust to the light of the moon - thing.)
If you were forced to hear the pain, frustration, desperation and maybe even joy of people praying - what might you be hearing today?
It's in the temple that Hannah prays desperately for a child. She shares her pain and the mistreatment she receives at home and it's Samuel, the priest, who hears her and sees her.
Can you imagine nine months of listening to this kind of vulnerability? What impact would that leave on you?
After a season of deep listening, Zechariah, filled with the prayers of the people, brings his heartfelt conviction that God has not forgotten them.
"We would be rescued
from the power of our enemies
so that we could serve him without fear,
in holiness and righteousness in God's eyes,
for as long as we live." - Luke 1:74-75
To whom are you deeply listening in this season? Rev. Dr. Jacqui Lewis at Middle Church has been hosting care-frontational conversations and even provides tools so that we can listen with the ears of the heart. http://www.jacquijlewis.com/blog/table-talk
My invitation for us in this post-election/Advent season is forced listening, a refusal to talk over or debate and sincerely listen. Perhaps then, we too might find prophetic things to say when we are asked to speak.
Shalom Agtarap is an ordained United Methodist Elder currently serving a multiethnic congregation south of Seattle. She also facilitates work among four churches working to become more multicultural and multiethnic; better representatives of their neighborhoods. She is a graduate of Wesley Theological Seminary in Washington, DC and her formation as a Christ follower was shaped by the Upper Room's Two-Year Academy for Spiritual Formation. She drinks deeply from the well of guided meditation and spiritual reading but is usually found listening to a podcast on race and politics or gospel music. Or both.


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I march to a different drum beat than most people, and I know I complicate my life in doing so, but I can't help it I thrive on challenges. It all started in 1996 when I bought my first computer IBM 486, $2400 dollars. Spent thousands of dollars on software. I wanted to learn everything, one can do with a computer. I thought, how hard can it be, specially when I found out how easy it was to build a computer by purchasing the different parts separately and plug all the parts together put the cover back on the box, hook the monitor and keyboard and install the operating system, voila I had a working desktop computer.
I am the kind of person, who needs to look under the hood and wonder how does this thing work. You couldn't do that then with the softwares, everything was propriety no looky under that hood. Open Source came along and everything changed. You could even get involved in developing, it was welcomed, if you had expertise in programming.
Open Source Softwares' Documentation were over my head, they show you how to install their software, the easy part, and the software is free. I bought books hoping they may help me more than documentations, lots of bucks. In reading the books I got the feeling the author just copied the documentation and helped to build a simple software which wasn't of interest anyways. Each author uses a different method than another author on the same subject. It's a good thing I enjoy reading, even topics that go over my head. Don't get me wrong you do build something, but left with lots of unexplained questions.
To be fair if I wanted to build a static website its very easy. The basics of a website is html, Css, and you can make a decent static site. Html and Css are very easy to learn, no learning curve involved. Html5 (present version) is used to structure your website. You layout the elements like header (banner), the menu, sidebar, content, and footer of the website. Css3 takes care of the presentation, positioning the element and colorizing your website. That is it.
But if you want a dynamic website, forms for registering and logging in. Database is required. and lots of programming. Get into a framework (example Python Django) less programming (coding), it also has a higher learning curve.
I wanted and still do, to learn how the big guys did it and do it myself, all from scratch. I learned enough to even host my website out of my house, only needing to buy a domain, but its more complicated than that if you want to build a sophisticated and secure site.
In the meantime the computer world passed me by, now all the software are hosted on vendor servers or clouds, nothing to download, you access your software through your browser, and store all your data at their site. Also now people are not buying desktops anymore, but laptops. The latest is the sophisticated cell phones or tablets everyone is into except me I'm still stuck on desktops maybe a good thing. Getting inside laptops and cell phones isn't going to be easy for me. So you see the technology is moving fast. things have moved exponentially, very fast for me.
So here I am on WordPress.com sharing my thoughts with you. I don't need to know what is going on under the hood. All I know is that it is based on PHP programing language. Just have to learn how to add widgets and what not. Not much more sophisticated than being on social network. I must admit this is more fun for me than social network. Maybe I was just a frustrated wanna be writer. Writing is a new experience for me.
My dilemma is I am seventy years old, loved learning new things all my life, jack of all trades but master of none. I may get bored with writing, before my subscription year runs out. Oh well nothing ventured nothing gained. Thank you for letting me share with you.
Constructive criticism is welcome, after all, one reason I started this website is other people will take interest and add their stories here too.


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To learn more about the specific products we offer and conditions we treat, please select one of the subcategories below and request an appointment with your eye care provider.
Lenses and Frames
Review the variety of lenses and frames available at our Sacramento optometrist office.
A list of options and information about the contact lenses offered at Thomas W. Wing OD.
Vision Correction
A brief illustration of some of the most common vision correction services offered at Thomas W. Wing OD.
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Brief descriptions of the various eye conditions we commonly see, diagnose and treat at our office in Sacramento, including lazy eye, cataracts and more.
Eye Diseases
A quick look at some of the most common eye diseases diagnosed, and often treated, at Thomas W. Wing OD, including pink eye, glaucoma and more.
Vision Problems
A concise guide to some of the most common vision problems diagnosed, and often treated, at our Sacramento optometric office, including astigmatism, farsightedness and more.


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Noemi Williams - REALTOR®
- NameNoemi Williams
- Cell813-789-7251
- Office813-441-0400
- E-mail Me
- LanguagesEnglish, Spanish
About Noemi
Hablo Español. Originally born, raised & educated in Puerto Rico. I have lived in the Tampa Bay area for the last 30 years. I've helped
many families realize their real estate dreams, and I believe quality personal service is a key to the success in the real estate business, buying or selling a home demands more expertise than ever before. To succeed, you need a professional on your side.
If you're ready to buy, I'll listen to your specific needs, ensuring that the homes you view are in your price range and include the features you want. When you're are ready to sell, I'll help determine your home's worth and develop an individual marketing
strategy to target and pre-screen prospective buyers. Serving Hillsborough, Pasco, and Hernando and Marion Counties including Tampa Bay Area.Serving Tampa Bay Area Florida. Se Habla Español.


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My First Ever Official Swim Race
This Sunday I participated in my first ever official swim race, the IJ Swim in Amsterdam. It is a 2,8 kilometers open water swim race through the canals of IJburg. So far my longest swim. There were about 55 participants. Rumours got out I did well in the Axtri triathlon so the organization tipped me amongst 2 other water polo players as the dangerous outsider for the win :) It was a really well organized event with a big crowd watching everywhere next to the course, live music along the swim, a DJ at the finish and a post swim BBQ.
At the start I positioned myself right behind the 2 water polo players. I was surprised to see that one guy was not wearing a wet suit. Obviously during the race this proved to be a big disadvantage. Although he came in second last year, this year he would finish in 6th place. Amazing performance in a field with only wet suits. For those new to swimming, the wet suit helps you float on top of the water. You need less body core strength, the suit keeps you basically in a least resistant position. Obviously you swim faster in a wet suit.
3, 2, 1, BAAANG!! Of we went. Like last week I took off quickly swimming the first 200 meters in the lead. This time I was more exited than last time so I had more difficulties controlling my breath during the first kilometer. After the first 200 meters I saw 3 people slowly overtake me. Since it was a long race I tried to stay in my own rhythm. Which I found very difficult, since I wanted to finish in top 3!
Half way there was another guy at my back, again slowly getting closer and closer. As he passed me 500 meters before the finish I tried to stay next to him. Swimming closely behind or next, slightly behind a competitor is a well known open water swim technique called 'drafting'. Studies show that while you draft you save 25% of your energy. It is basically the equivalent of driving in someones slip stream. It is a great technique and tactic but only if you are able to keep up with your rival. Unfortunately I could not. I gave all my last energy and finished in 4th place in a total time of 44 minutes 44 seconds. Number one at that time finished already his first burger, it took him 39 minutes 26 seconds to swim 2,8 kilometers, fantastic!
September 7th I will swim the Amsterdam City Swim. A very special sports event where all participants collect funding for the ALS Foundation. The 2 KM swim takes place in the historic canals of Amsterdam. This year they have already raised over €1,1 million!! Feel free to sponsor me via this link.
Take care!


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News from the Foundation
Student of the Week: Michelle Gonzalez
Congratulations to Michelle Gonzalez, an eleventh grader at School on Wheels High School, for being named the Student of the Week by the New Mexico Educators Federal Credit Union and the APS Education Foundation!
Tell us a little about your school experience:
I went to Cibola for my freshman and sophomore year. I decided to go to School on Wheels for the smaller class sizes, individualized instruction, and the opportunity to catch up on credits and graduate on time. Once there, I received more one on one time with my teachers and have also received work credits toward graduation.
What's your favorite course?
What are your plans for the future?
To attend SMU (Southern Methodist University) to study Psychology.


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So I write this blog. I document as much of our family life as I have time to and is fit/safe to print. I started doing it because the demand for Lu news was more than I could keep up with on emails or photo albums. I do it now because I love to write, I love to write about our life, I have not pasted so much as a clipping of hair into a book for Lu and...well, I forget why. But it's good for me. Someday it will embarrass the shit out of Lu, which, given her behavior today, is a good reason.
My Aunt Mary Jane called me today to tell me how much she likes to read the blog and it MADE MY DAY. I had no idea she was reading so regularly. I am, sadly, very driven by feedback (See 10 Things. Working on that. Damn me and my need to please. Until I am strong enough not to need it, however...).
No need to get weird, but if you read this blog, say hey once in a while. I could use it. What is the sound of a neurotic working mother falling in the forest? For those of you who do regularly say hey (my mom, Pie, Jenn, Miss West, Nini, Jana, Patrick and Kevin), the sound is: thanks.


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Product Description
the impact of unemployment on nigerian economy (49 pages) CHAPTER 1-5
The term unemployment can be defined as a situation whereby those who are willing and able to work do not find job. This is mostly seen among greduates of various institutions of learning especially in underdeveloped nation like Nigeria.
The study was designed to investigate the impact on unemployment on Nigeria economy (1980-2010). The research focuses on determining the causes and effects of unemployment and how the problem of unemployment in Nigeria will be reduced to a minimal level or even eradicated. It focuses on this objective: to determine the relationship between unemployment and economic growth in Nigeria (GDP).The method of analysis used in testing the hypothesis is the t-test, f-test e.t.c.Data for the study was obtained from the Central Bank of Nigeria statistical bulletin.
The major findings were that unemployment has a negative effect on the gross domestic product (GDP) of the Nigerian economy. Some suggestions and policy recommendations were made based on the findings………….ORDER FOR COMPLETE PROJECT MATERIAL NOW!! .


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Aug 072011
Fresno County Sheriff Margaret Mims and local attorneys Rick Horowitz and Brenda Linder will debate local regulation of medical marijuana and answer online questions in a one-hour chat beginning at 10:30 a.m. Monday on fresnobeehive.com/news.
Fresno County supervisors are expected to enact a ban on medical-marijuana dispensaries at their meeting Tuesday, the Fresno Bee reports.
But advocates of the drug are preparing to launch a signature drive to overturn the ban, and local dispensary owners are vowing legal action to block the law.
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A Call for an Open and Cosmopolitan Society
by Harald Christ
The majority of the German society has demonstrated over the last weeks and months that it wishes for an open minded, cosmopolitan, tolerant coexistence and that they are willing to welcome hundreds of thousands of refugees.
The majority of the German society has demonstrated over the last weeks and months that it wishes for an open minded, cosmopolitan, tolerant coexistence and that they are willing to welcome hundreds of thousands of refugees.
At the same time, the question arose how we should deal with people who do not want this. People who oppose an open society out of anxiety, ignorance or, in the worst case, hatred. We have to encounter these fears with enlightenment and transparency. With the support of politicians and the media, we can welcome people from different countries and integrate them into our society. This "welcome culture" is already brought to life by numerous volunteers and citizens, who made the warm reception of refugees in the recent months possible.
In the coming months and years, we have to face the challenges of integration together. It is important to inform about the variety of the cultural differences. It requires acceptance to live together with these cultures in an open society. We all need to work towards a society in which attacks or assaults against other cultures and lifestyles have no space. This is a task for every single one of us. But it is also a task for the media and politicians to create the awareness that not every comment and not every point of view necessarily reflects the opinion of everyone. It needs to acceptance and respect to acknowledge that we are all different.
This is also my demand to all those who come to our country. The ground for our liberal-democratic order is
the cultural and social openness in everyday life. This includes, among other things, the acceptance of religious freedom, of the role of women and of the diversity of sexual orientations.
Insofar also a special protection for LGBTQI refugees needs to be established so that for example homophobic harassment and assaults in refugee camps can be prevented. Because an open society cannot allow that homophobic practices from refugees' homelands are transferred into our society. In 75 countries of the world, homosexuality is punishable; in eight of them homosexuals are under threat of the death penalty – among them Sudan, Saudi Arabia and Iran. Homosexuals can obtain asylum in Germany if they are persecuted in their home country because of their sexual orientation. The prosecution, however, has to be so serious that it constitutes a severe violation of fundamental human rights, for example, when there is the danger someone's life or health is threatened, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. Insults, abuse or threats do not suffice as grounds for asylum.
Since 2014, Serbia has been classified as a so-called "safe country of origin". Just like almost all Balkan states, Serbia has banned the discrimination of homosexuals by law – a prerequisite for the ELI accession negotiations. This is an important step! But "juridical security" does not mean social security or even acceptance. Therefore when it comes to the topic of refugees, it is important to make distinctions between groups of people, religions and countries of origin.
Germany has developed into a cosmopolitan, open and tolerant state in recent years. Now our task is to continue with it. Every person can take a stand for equality, tolerance and protection of minorities every day at a personal level by their behaviour and by their appreciative communication with their fellow human beings. Because we all still have a lot to do for the destruction of resentment and the construction of an open, cosmopolitan society in the world.
The TEDDY AWARD has a 30-year long tradition as part of the Berlinale and with its diverse films and campaigns, it presents again and again an important contribution to the fight for tolerance and openness. It can be sure of a worldwide attention, which it uses to help the persecuted, outlawed, threatened and marginalized, to give them a voice. This global voice of the TEDDY carries a call for openness, cosmopolitanism and acceptance.


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MINIS Full Day Summer Camp June 19-23
MINIS Full Day Summer Camp June 19-23
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- 12pm-1pm - Lunch*
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*Students should bring their own lunch and will participate with GCPA staff in lunch and playtime activities until the second camp begins.
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'To my ears, Irish always sounds like someone is hurting a Norwegian'
Ross isn't on board with Sorcha's Irish resolution – and it's about to blow up in his face
"Tá sé seo go deas," Sorcha goes, "nach bhfuil sé?"
My wife's New Year's resolution was to make Irish the first language of the O'Carroll-Kelly home and I can honestly say I haven't understood a single word she's said since it was still 2017.
"Bhí," I go, which was the word that got me through my oral Irish exam at school, 30 minutes in Room A12 that felt like 30 days in Abu Ghraib, as much for the examiner as for me. "Definitely, definitely bhí."
Sorcha laughs. She goes, "Dúirt tú 'bhí' arís, Ross! Ba cheart duit 'tá' a rá! Tá! An dtuigeann tú?"
I'm like, "Bhí, Sorcha. Very much bhí."
Who still takes their New Year's resolutions seriously in the second week in January?
Me and Honor are trying to watch Stranger Things while horsing our way through the last of the Christmas leftovers. Sorcha keeps insisting on talking to us, though – she reminds me of Bean Uí McCool, a particularly chatty bean an tí I had once in Irish college, who suffered with her nerves and felt the need to fill every silence with Gaelic words strung together into sentences.
"Honor," Sorcha goes, "ar ghlan tú do sheomra?"
Honor's like, "Cad é?" because she's basically fluent, not having the excuse that I have of having played rugby.
"Do sheomra," Sorcha goes. "Tá do chuid éadaigh ar fud an urláir."
Honor just shakes her head. "Sorry, Mom, I'm still struggling to understand your Connemara dialect. See, my teacher speaks Donegal Irish? It's honestly like a different language."
Sorcha has another crack at it, this time saying it louder and more slowly, like my old dear trying to communicate with the Ukranian woman who does her hoovering – Iryna the Cleaner, as she's known.
"Do... sheomra!" Sorcha goes. "Tá do ... chuid éadaigh... ar fud... an urláir!"
Honor shakes her head again. She's like, "Sorry, Mom – I'm still not getting it."
I go, "Bhí Stranger Things on the TV here, Sorcha," at least making the effort to say a word or two. "Bhí trying to watch it, if you don't mind."
Sorcha gives me an absolute filthy. She doesn't say anything, though. It's like she can't find the words to express how angry she is right now – and even if she found them, I wouldn't know what they meant anyway.
Honor's there, "An bhfuil aon Quality Street fágtha?"
Sorcha just glowers at her. "Sráideanna den Scoth," she goes.
Honor just shrugs her shoulders and she's like, "An bhfuil aon Sráideanna den Scoth fágtha then?"
Sorcha goes, "Fan nóiméad," and she storms out of the room.
I turn around to Honor and I go, "Not to come across as thick here but did you just ask her to go and get us more Quality Street?"
Listen to Ross
"She's annoyed with us, though."
"I don't know why she's annoyed with me. Bhí is the only Irish word I have and I wouldn't be 100 per cent sure I'm even using it right."
"You're not."
"There you are then. Not to run it down as a language but to my ears Irish always sounds like someone is hurting a Norwegian."
"I think we've upset her, though. Did you see her face?"
"It's the second week in January, Honor! Who still takes their New Year's resolutions seriously in the second week in January?"
"I suppose it sort of serves her right for having expectations of us that are too high."
"Way too high! Do you remember the time she decided we were going to be one of those families that didn't own a TV?"
"Oh my God, she wanted us to sit around reading books and talking in the evenings."
"Talking! Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous? And how long did that last?"
"I think it was two nights."
"Two nights! This will be the same – you mork my words. As long as I keep flicking the bhí's at her and you keep telling her that you can't understand – what was that word you used? – her Dalek?"
"Her dialect."
"Her dialect then."
What does the phrase go raibh maith agat mean? I'm pretty sure I've heard it before
Honor turns back to the screen. "Oh my God," she goes, "the kids in this show are such dorks. I hope they all die horribly at the end."
I'm there, "I do, too. It's the only reason I've watched seven episodes."
Sorcha arrives back into the room with what's left of the Quality Street. "Na Sráideanna den Scoth," she goes, putting the tin down on the coffee table. "Níl fágtha ach caife agus oráiste."
I look into the tin. I'm like, "Bhí bad news, Honor. Bhí only coffee and orange left."
We'll probably eat them anyway. If even just to mork the official end of Christmas.
"Ross," Sorcha goes, "Bhí mé ag caint le m'athair díreach anois. Tá sé ag iarraidh ticéidí don chluiche. Éire agus an Iodáil. Ag an Aviva Stadium an mhí seo chugainn."
I'm there, "Bhí do you think this could possibly wait, Sorcha? I think one of these annoying kids is about to be eaten here."
"Ní maith leis an rugbaí ach ba mhaith leis cliant a thabhairt go dtí an cluiche. An dtabharfaidh tú do thicéidí dó?"
"Yeah, bhí, Sorcha – whatever."
She's like, "Go raibh maith agat!" then off she goes again.
The dorky kid manages to escape. Me and Honor both punch the sofa cushions out of frustration.
I'm like, "Will we watch another episode?" and as I say it I hear the front door slam.
She goes, "We might as well. She's gone to see her dad."
I'm there, "Is that what that was all about? Ach this and ba mhaith that."
"Sort of, yeah."
"Here, what does the phrase 'go raibh maith agat' mean? I'm pretty sure I've heard it before."
"It means thank you."
"That was it! Thank you! I'll add that to the old vocabulary. It's amazing how many things you think you didn't learn at school but it turns out you actually did."
"Put the next episode on, will you?"
"I'm doing it. Here, what was she thanking me for anyway?"
"You said her dad could have your tickets for the Ireland v Italy match next month."
"I did what?"
"She said he doesn't like rugby but he wants to bring a client and you told her he could have your tickets."
"Honor, please tell me I didn't agree to that."
"As you might say yourself, Dad – bhí."


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Love in action. Action in love. Love out loud. The trending activity for our young people is not a good one. It is a fear and anger based action. It requires silence, inactivity, ignorance, and an obvious disconnect. It requires constantly choosing to not be present. It is an empty vacuum. It is a lack of light. It is a lack of vision. It is a lack of purpose. It is bullying.
I know that this is not new. I know that bullying is as old has nature itself. I do not care if you call it, the thinning of the herd, the thickening of skin, the toughening of the clan, or any of the other thing, it happened before this generation, and will sadly happen in the next. Some of it is code speak for conquer now, consider later. Some of it is based on the idea that the weaker need to move out of the way of the stronger, faster, richer, smarter, and often, meaner. It is mental laziness.
Here's where I stand on this. As a parent, my forehead wrinkles up at any kid being bullied. If I was not present and my child is bullied, I would hope and pray that the young people involved have been covered in enough love to know that this is not love. It is my hope that at least one of them have some love to spare, some love to give, and some clue that whatever is going on is not a good thing. I hope that at least one other person present recognizes pain, seeks to end it, avoid it, or make it better. I hope. I pray.
As an adult, I stand up, stand in, and am heard. I simply do not have it in me to stand silently and watch pain happen. I also refuse to put another thing in with the pain. It does not matter if it is an animal in pain, a child in pain, a woman in pain, or a brother in pain. If I can do something to make the situation better, I should do so. I would do so. In the age of grabbing a camera and hitting record as the pain happens, I am still in the family of standing up, speaking out, and ending the pain. That is what I hope. I pray.
As a husband, I simply believe that my first task each day, and last task each day, is love. It is my mission and goal to keep the home pain free, especially by me. It is a daily choice to love out loud, action in love, and be love in action. That keeps it simple for me. A home should be pain free. It should be covered in love. When my wife leaves the house, she has enough love to carry her through her day until she returns home. She has enough love to add to any situation. When the day has drained her of love, LOVE LIVES HERE. That is what I hope. I pray.
As a coach, I am tasked with covering other people's young ones in love. How awesome is that? Pretty amazing, right? That is why I coach. I get to love more, and if I do it right, loved more. When I see a player in pain, I cover them in love. When there is an act out in pain, I cover them in love. Every player that I have ever coach knows that I love them, and I hope that they love themselves as well. I make a point to have my players action in love away from the game. Away from the team. Away from their family. They should be covered in love, from within, and from those they share themselves with. I pray that they get so much love at home, at school, at practice and games, and in the neighborhood, they should have plenty to share with others. They should have enough to ease the pain of anyone around them. They should recognize love, and with that, are able to recognize the other when they see it, hear it, feel it. They should know that the right thing is to ease the other persons pain with an act of love. They should know that action can be a smile, a hug, and kind word, or just listening. I hope. I pray.
I mention home, school, and neighborhood because if a love vacuum exists in any of those places, it needs to be filled by love from somewhere. Whether it's a teacher, a faith leader, a mentor, a neighbor, or a coach, that vacuum can be filled with love so that nothing else can occupy it. This is how bullying can be defeated. Bullying can not live where love is. Love wins. Bullying is defeated.
Did I say defeated? That's the coach in me. When confronted with an opponent, I plan to defeat it. I find its weakness, and capitalize. I try to understand its strength, and find a way to make that a weakness. I try to know why the opponent is being successful and strip them of it. That's how my brain and heart works.
I know where bullying starts. It can be at home, where pain can be louder than love. It can be in the words and actions of the adults that live there. It can be on the school bus, at the school. In the hallways, in the classrooms, in the locker rooms, or in hallways where no one is watching. No one is there who can act in love. It can be on social media. It can be the words that they read by adults who say that its ok to berate, its ok to be mean, its ok to gang up by power in numbers. It can be in the private text messages, group chats, or face to face when no one else is around. It requires a disconnect. It requires darkness. It requires forgetting that love is why. Love has to be why.
What I know is that love and fear cannot occupy the same space. Where love is, fear can not be. Where love is, hate can not be. Fear is a lie, and a prison. The strength required to love is experiencing it, knowing what it looks like, feels like, and sounds like. We know what love is, and what it is not. Given a choice of love and the other, most, most, would choose to be love. If they are aware of it, how great it feels, how powerful it is, and how it multiplies, it will be the constant and consistent choice.
Mind your words, your actions, and your heart. Make sure that the message that you are handing to your young people is one of love. Allow young people to stay connected to you. If connected, when a young person goes off course, the connection pulls at you and says "I am going left, help me." If connected, we know natural movements, good movements, and the other.
Be the place where love lives. Be constantly in action of love. Be constantly love in action. Cover your young people so much in love that nothing else can stick. That's how we will make fewer bullies, young and old. Love. Out loud. I hope that we do. I pray.
Love out loud people.


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How to Download Kik Messenger for PC
Mobile messenger apps are becoming more popular each day. As most mobile network providers offer packages which include a lot of internet traffic or even an unlimited amount of traffic, it is no wonder that more and more people are making good use of this traffic by communicating freely with their friends from around the world. At the moment, the most popular such apps are WhatsApp and Viber, but more and more similar apps are catching up. Kik Messenger is a great app which features an amazing user friendly interface. As most mobile apps, this app is only available for mobile operating systems. Nevertheless, it too can be used on a personal computer. Today we will teach you how to download Kik Messenger for PC and how to use it as well.How to Download Kik Messenger for PC Picture
Main features
Before, we move on to teaching you how to download Kik Messenger for PC, you need to know a few things about this app. The app's interface is similar to the interface of Facebook Messenger so a lot of people will relate to this app and will be able to use it effortlessly. The instant messages can include texts, images, videos, voice recordings and so on. Unlike other similar instant message apps, it also allows you to share large files. It is a great way of keeping in touch with friends from around the world. It is a shame that this type of apps are only available for mobile networks. However, you needn't worry as we have found a way around this problem.
Kik Messenger for PC download tutorial
- As it goes with most mobile apps, you can't download Kik Messenger for PC without first installing an Android Emulator. We advise you to choose BlueStacks because it is very efficient and completely free.
- You can download BlueStacks from the official website. Once you have downloaded and installed the Android Emulator, open it using the BlueStacks icon now found on your desktop.
- BlueStacks has a search option which will allow you to download and install Kik Messenger as well as many other mobile apps.
- Once you have found Kik Messenger by using the Bluestacks Search option, click the install button found on the right side of the first shown result. This button will automatically install the desired app.
- In order to use the app, go to the My Apps option provided by BlueStacks. Keep in mind that this app, like so many other mobile apps, can only be used within the Android Emulator.


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28 February – one day to act!
No-one likes doing tax returns. However, another tax year has just finished and you need to make sure your return is filed with the Internal Revenue Service (IRS). There's not much time to waste before the deadline, in April, for settling any liabilities you might have.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Scottish football needs all the crowds it can get. Especially when we're talking about Division One clubs such as East Fife. However, this is not a blatant attempt to bribe the good citizens of Methil into attendance at New Bayview. Rather, we're looking at how the concept of Crowdfunding can make a tangible, financial difference to small businesses, of which East Fife FC is just one of many in Scotland.
Congratulations to one of our partners, Catherine Sinclair, who has passed all the exams to become an Enrolled Agent for US tax purposes.
There has been a rash of articles in the financial pages recently about the dangers of 'copycat' websites which may seem to be like the H M Revenue & Customs (HMRC) site but, once you've gone through the process of filing your return online with them, charge you a hefty sum for the privilege.
We thought the attached document from HMRC providing guidance on completing your real-time payroll submission for the tax year 2013-14 might be helpful.


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Beyond Parallel
Matthew Turner
Chapter 1
Without a clue about what's always been
The sun crept through the curtains and illuminated the old, dusty room. Shafts of light caught the dancing bits of dirt, the specks spinning and scattering across the worn, wooden floor. Clark lay in bed, his breathing still and steady. He rolled over; a crunching, crackling noise disturbing his sleep and bringing him to life. He reached behind, pulling at the foreign object and bringing it to his red and tired eyes. He opened them, focusing on the crumpled piece of paper and took in the words.
You're my oldest friend, and in some ways I feel bad about not saying goodbye. But we don't do that, so you'll just have to get over it because the time has come for me to leave. By the time you read this, I'll be long gone (or more than likely waiting for a boat), but I want you to know I'll always be here for you.
We're travelers, and this is what travelers do. We travel, damn it!
You've done your share, but I have more to do. It's time for you to go home and get a real job and pay back your dad (ha, yeah, like that'll ever happen). Anyway, I know you'll be pissed right now (and hungover. You were so drunk last night, lightweight), but get over it. Oh, and keep searching for that special something. You'll find it one day, brother, trust me.
Your best mate,
Clark rubbed his eyes, although the fault lay with the text: too small, making it hard to fully comprehend the haggard handwriting, a sure sign it was Sam's. He tossed the paper behind him and fell to his pillow, staring at the ceiling and trying to focus. His skin was tight and heavy as memories of the previous night spilled forward.
He groaned with the realization of being back on his own. It never used to bother him, but that was so long ago. Sam had become his constant, his partner-in-crime. Now he was alone in a small island town in Thailand, and the idea of getting out of bed and facing the severe heat made him shudder. Grabbing the pillow, he pushed it to his face. The white, dirty fabric impeded his breathing as the smell of stale sweat and beer made him feel light and lifeless. He knew the world was still there, but for a few seconds it was just him in a vacuum of space. No worries and no means to get up. A simple idea of staying wrapped up forever and letting his life sort itself out in the hopefully distant future.
Knowing he couldn't hide, he rolled over, and, misjudging the size of the bed, fell to the floor, his head pounding as his knees hit wood. Another groan, this one echoing a few seconds longer, worked its way out. He stumbled to his feet and fell toward the small wooden table. Above it rested a mirror, his pale reflection filling it.
He fumbled around the so-called table for inspiration. Leaflets of color shone back, each one with a story to tell and the potential to take his mind off the loneliness. Among them, a bright green piece of paper with trees and blue sky filling its long, slender form caught his attention.
'A meandering walk up the hillside with breathtaking views of the ocean below,' stated the leaflet.
He looked back at the mirror, angry at the stranger pretending to be him, and exhaled hard. He needed to forget, to move forward and sober up. A walk, he thought, should help. A walk to an inspirational view, he decided, was not only a great idea, but the only one on offer.
The final hundred-yard-dash was frantic and vigorous. Adrenaline flowed through her legs, but her lungs struggled with the hot, humid air. Bella watched the final few passengers disappear onto the bus, the realization sinking in that she was about to miss the trip. Luckily, Alex paced a few steps in front, his long strides driving forward with purpose and reaching the doors with seconds to spare.
She reached the old and worn bus and flung her tired body up the steep and suspect-looking steps. Deep breaths flowed through her as she watched Alex prop himself up against the driver's booth, motioning two fingers from left to right. She could see the driver's face, all angered and scowling, but hard to decipher confusion from hate.
"Two tickets," she heard Alex say, his voice low and slow. "Please?"
The driver snatched the money from his hand and motioned for them both to move down the aisle. She moved close to Alex, scurrying behind in a bid for his large, slender frame to protect her from the old man's glare. "What did you say to him?" she asked in a hushed tone.
"Nothing. I asked for two tickets and he just looked at me. I mean, come on, what else would I want from him other than tickets?"
She prepared a reply but the ground beneath her began to move. Falling into Alex she clung, pulling on his shirt and moving closer to his sweat-filled back. "Typical. No more seats together. I hate sitting on my own," she said, pouting.
The bus shook to life, violent bumps sending her stumbling forward. She was about to give up on the hope of sitting together when an old woman got to her feet, motioning for them to sit down. Wrinkles engulfed the old face, each bump and mound suggesting a story behind it. Bella offered her palm, both in gratitude and assistance to move along the volatile bus.
"Thank you so much," Bella said, as the old woman sat in the seat behind and join a man with large headphones absorbing half his head. "At least we get to sit next to each other. Even if this bus does look older than the both of us," she continued, this time to Alex.
"I know, right? This is bad, even for Thailand's standards."
She searched the vehicle and watched the other people wave their hands in a bid to cool down. She knew it was pointless; the humid conditions would become victorious no matter how hard a hand was flung from side to side. She looked back at Alex, his black hair resting messily on top of his head. His skin was much darker than usual. She'd grown familiar with his pale complexion, but the new dark features made him seem exotic and intriguing. She followed it down to his neck, focusing on the distinct line where white met dark. She was comfortable around him, but he seemed somewhat foreign. A new Alex, one she didn't fully know. "So, where are we going again?" she asked, snapping her mind back.
"It's this walk up the hillside, and if the leaflet's anything to go by, the view will be amazing."
"Very romantic," she said. "It's a shame it's with you really, isn't it? Wasn't the plan to find some exotic strangers to do things like this with?"
He smiled, although it seemed forced.
"Well, I guess you'll have to do" she mocked, waiting for his reply. Instead, he turned toward the window, his suspicious look shining back through the window's glare.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure? Because you're being quiet again. Just like last night."
"Nope, I'm fine. Just hot, I guess. It's, like, what? A hundred degrees in here?"
She sensed he was hiding something, just as she had the night before. His focus remained outside, and his silence was haunting. Breaks in conversation were never his strong point. A period any longer than a few seconds would send him stumbling for words to fill the awkward moment. The last few days had seen these gaps become more constant, his love of chatter seeming to vanish.
Pushing the mystery of his solitude to one side, she leaned back in her chair and thought about the potentially breathtaking view awaiting her. Sitting on the plane from America nearly six months earlier, she had fantasized about romantic trips with strangers and first kisses with heaven-like settings as the backdrop. Most of her first-times were bland and uneventful, although she was always proud of her very first, a stumbling affair of clumsy arms and lips on a lonesome boat as her friends swam just meters away.
She didn't know back then her love life was at its peak, that anti-climatic moments would become the only consistent thing to follow. Entire relationships were built up over weeks of hope and lust, only for them to crash to a sudden end and bring nothing but pain. The only constant she ever knew were her tears and Alex. He was always there, to hold her as the pain and trauma dripped down her cheeks and into a glass of half-empty vodka.
With hope for something new
A loud noise shook her awake, fear sending her scrambling out of bed in search of an answer. She spun full circle, still nothing adding clarity, and then noticed the empty bed beside her, the same bed Alex should have been in. She spun again, continuing her search before stopping at the bathroom door, the puzzle quickly piecing together. "Alex, what's up? Are you ok?" she said, storming through the opening as Alex hung over the toilet.
He raised his face out of the bowl with small, stuttered movements. "I don't feel so good. I think it was that curry I had last night."
She went over, not sure whether to grab his arm or not. "Yeah, maybe squid curry wasn't the best choice."
"You think!"
She cupped her hand around his shoulder. "Do you need anything? Some water or food, maybe?"
"No food!" he snapped, grabbing his mouth and placing his head back over the toilet.
"Okay, no food. Got it. Well, I'll get you some water and help you back into bed."
"No, I'll be fine," he said, coughing. "You have that walk to go on."
"I'm not going on that. How can I leave you here looking…well, I can't leave you on your own, okay?"
"I'll be fine, and what are you going to do, exactly? All I'll do is sleep and throw my lungs up. Do you really need to be here for that?"
Different considerations spun through her mind. The idea of staying in the hot, small apartment all day was dreadful. Playing nurse and helping him to the toilet offered no joy, but leaving him to fester on his own didn't feel right. She played tennis with the two options, caught between a rock and the sick bowl. "Okay, fine, I might not be able to help, but isn't this what friends are for? I may be wrong, but aren't we supposed to be there in times of need?"
His head flopped over the bowl again, raising slightly and showcasing a line of drool hanging from his chin. "Yeah, for the most part, and I do appreciate it. I'm serious, though. I want you to go and have a good time and get some pictures so at least I kind of get to experience it. With a bit of luck, I'll be better when you come back and we can have some dinner."
The whole situation felt like a trick, and although his decision seemed like the right one, at least for her, the feeling of regretting it later or becoming branded with the tag traitor loomed. "Fine. I'll go, but do nothing but sleep and drink water. I expect you to be feeling better later on, and I promise I won't be late. I'll go on this stupid walk, which was your idea in the first place, by the way, and come straight home."
"Sounds like a plan," he said before returning his head to the toilet and making sounds Bella would spend the rest of the morning trying to forget.
She hoped she had time to take a gentle walk through the small Thai town and arrive at the bus with minutes to spare. Leaving the apartment and looking at her watch pushed the idea out the window and replaced it with sprinting the final fifty meters and lunging toward the bus as the doors began stuttering shut.
Climbing the steps was difficult, more so than she anticipated, and the disapproving scowl greeting her was enough to make her reconsider her plans and return home. "One ticket please?" she asked carefully, edging her eyes around the old booth in a bid to avoid the driver's glare.
The old man said nothing, his tanned, leather face showing no mercy and demanding respect from anyone entering his world. He looked her up and down, Bella feeling his judgment taking place as if entering his bus was a privilege, despite the rusty scrapheap seeming older than her grandfather. "One ticket?" she repeated, this time offering a shaking finger as a guide.
He cranked a handle and released a flurry of noise before snapping at her palm and taking a handful of money. She let out a high squeak laugh and edged down the aisle, the driver disappearing behind his seat to start the ancient engine.
It kicked into life, the heavy vibrations causing Bella's legs to wobble and buckle. She stumbled forward, lunging for the first pole available, and clung tight, dragging herself into a seat, missing it slightly, and climbing up in a bid to retain some dignity. She took a deep breath and straightened her back, her posture suddenly a conscious effort.
"You okay there?" asked the man sat next to her, taking off his large headphones.
Bella could feel the red in her cheeks getting darker. It began more pink, largely due to the sudden exercise, but she knew a deep maroon now filled them. "Fine, thanks. Just one of those mornings."
The stranger pouted his lips and faced the seat in front, the sun catching and showcasing his blue eyes. "I know what you mean. I woke up this morning and my best friend had left."
"Really? I'd kill Alex if he did that—he's the reason I'm on my own by the way—he didn't leave, though, he's just sick, but being on your own is never good. In fact, I think it's the first time I've been on my own so far," she said with her last bit of breath, reminding herself to pause and inhale in future.
"Is that your boyfriend?"
"The guy who's sick…Alex?"
"Oh, no. He's just a friend. Well, not just any friend, my best friend. But still—"
Bella became lost in his smile, forgetting exactly how to act in the presence of a new man.
"I suppose we can look after each other, what, with both of us being alone and all. I'm Clark."
"Bella," she said, holding out her hand. "I like your accent, by the way. English, right?" she continued, embarrassed by her lack of composure.
"That's right, and you're American, but if you're from Canada, I apologize because I've got that wrong in the past."
Her anxieties began to ease as he looked at her. His blue eyes, along with his accent, provided enough reason to listen and forget about her morning so far. Memories of other English boys in her life bundled their way forward. The foreign exchange student she had kissed at sixteen, the barman in the student union offering no affection whatsoever, and the professor she decided was flirtatious, despite him calling her Emma on several occasions. Each one took her back to fantasies of her youth, listening to The Smiths and imagining one day becoming a wife to a rock star who'd dedicate songs to her and whisk her around the globe.
"I'm a big fan of the accent. I'm sure you get it a lot, though. All my friends back home are obsessed," she said, hoping her small talk was improving
"So you're obsessed, are you?"
She realized it wasn't. "Well…no…obviously not—"
"I'm joking. I like your accent, too. I'm no expert, but I'd say the Midwest, right?"
"Wow, yeah. Dayton, Ohio…any chance you've heard of it?"
"Nope, afraid not."
"Yeah, didn't think so." She noticed his dimples, a pair each side of his mouth, creating gentle wrinkles rising up his cheeks.
She considered her next move, when a sudden jump from the bus sent her hand brushing his knee. She was aware of the attraction she had for him and hated how her heart always became victorious over her head. At the same time, she missed the pounding chest that only a new romance could bring. She didn't know what would happen, but suspected the afternoon would bring hot flashes, stumbling chatter, and things she would no doubt later regret.
Without eyes that see
The old bus took an hour to bounce its way to the foot of the hillside, each bend emphasizing its frailty. The gentle rush of air poured through the windows but offered nothing to ease the stifling conditions. The hot, wet air clung to the people trapped inside, the waving of hats and pieces of paper unable to control the constant flow of sweat forming on their foreheads.
The rusted house of metal slid into the car park and vibrated to a heavy, eventual stop. The doors began to open, stuttering along the way, and presented an escape into a world of fresh air and life. Everyone seemed eager to take up the offer as the aisle became full of bodies. Bella and Alex were among the crowd, the flow of feet carrying them into the heavenly opening.
"Thank god that's over," said Bella, taking in deep breaths of humid air. "That was too much. This better be worth it, Mister." She turned to Alex as he searched his back pocket. "Which way are we going?"
He dragged out a map, the paper crumpled and torn at the edges. "I thought we could go along this route," he said, pointing to a red line. "And are you telling me this isn't worth it?"
She followed his arm as it guided her around the area away from the bus. Green trees climbed high into the sky as blue tints from above crept through the branches. A suggestion of paradise stood hidden behind them and hinted at the potential awaiting her up the slope. Golden beams of light snuck through the gaps and lit up the dusty air; small bits of everything dancing with each other, bumping and grinding and making the air seem alive. "Yeah, I suppose this is good," she said, giving Alex a wink.
The gentle slope took an hour to conquer as Bella kept pace with Alex's long legs. The moist air clung to the back of her throat. Each intake of hot oxygen became harder to swallow, as if the air around her was turning into soup, the consistency getting thicker the higher up the sloping road they went. She clung to the thought of the magical sight ahead, despite the difficult conditions doing its best to distract her.
"How much longer?" she said. "It seems like we've been walking for hours…and where is everyone? Why are we the only people walking up here? Are we lost?"
Alex continued in his stride. "Nearly there, I think."
"Don't you think it's strange we're the only people up here? There were loads of people on the bus. Where have they all gone?"
"Not sure."
Bella came to a halt, sweat dripping from her neck and down her back. Uncomfortable and irritated, she folded her arms, Alex's lack of conversation proving to be the final straw. "Okay what's wrong with you? You're being quiet again, just like last night, and if there's one thing you're good at, it's never shutting up. I mean, seriously, when are you ever okay with silence?"
With a swift twist, he faced her while continuing to push up the hill. "I'm fine. I just want to get to the top."
"No, you're lying. There's something wrong and you're not telling me."Stopping and closing the gap between them, he sighed. "Why does something have to be wrong? Can't a guy enjoy the silence?"
"You can't, no. Are you forgetting I'm your best friend? It was the same last night. You just sat there eating your Pad Thai and said nothing. You left me to do all the small talk. I hate small talk." His motionless face gave nothing away. It was stern and serious, one she'd gotten to know well over the last four years. One she'd met at a party in her freshman year. One she'd kept close ever since.
"Look, there's nothing wrong, so just leave it."
She continued her stare, waiting for his stance to crack. It stood firm, the idea of him hiding something churning her stomach.
"Anyway, I think we're at the top…see," he said pointing toward an opening in the trees ahead.
Stepping forward, a new world opened up. The dark, intriguing surroundings disappeared, replaced with bright and vivid colors instead. Crossing the invisible barrier was like stepping into a new life, the dark greens turning to lively reds and yellows and every hue of blue imaginable. The light and pale sky mixed with the sea, the horizon difficult to spot in a haze of complementing shades. It crawled forward, white touches dotting the landscape before turning into a bright flow of sand below. It reached high up the slope, disappearing beneath her feet as the steep cliff hid the rest of the spectacle. She turned to Alex. "Wow, this is amazing."
He said nothing and fell to the ground, propping his head up with his arm and staring out to sea. She stepped toward him, looking down as the gentle hum of the breeze became the only sound. She turned her attention back to the conversation. Her anger and annoyance had been interrupted by the beautiful setting, but she needed to investigate his mood further. Yet she knew if she did, the amazing moment would be lost and their trip would turn into a poisonous argument. Giving up, she fell to the ground in a heavy pile and rested her head on his hip.
"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence. "I know I've been a bit weird these last few days. It's just…well."
She waited for more words to follow, but silence took over again. "Yes?"
"It's kind of hard to say, because…It's a big deal. At least, it's a big deal to me anyway, and…well…I was planning on saying something last night, but it just didn't seem right. I mean, the restaurant was small and dark, and not in the good way either, but—"
"Alex, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I'm getting there, okay…I just wanted to say that I…love you and, well, yeah…that's it." he said, his stumbling speech coming to an abrupt stop.
Confused as to what was happening, Bella waited for more. Realizing it wasn't going to come, she spoke. "Yeah, I love you too. You're my best friend. I kind of thought it was a given—"
"No, I mean I love you. As in, more than friends."
His words crept from nowhere. She moved to answer, but a vacant sound was the only thing waiting. She tried again. Nothing. Her mind was lost, as though every word she had ever learned vanished from her memory. It was liken to a toddler scrambling and juggling with sounds in the hope of a word forming. "More than friends?"
"As in love. Like the kind of love I have for pancakes?"
"No, like the kind of love you have for someone you, well, love. As in boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife. You know, that sort of thing."
"Right, just checking." She was desperate for an answer; sure something existed in the depths of her mind. She thought backward, and then even further, but still nothing presented itself. A stutter formed in her throat, words unable to come out, knowing the next few minutes could end their friendship. "Okay, this is strange. We're best friends. All we've ever been is friends, so where the hell has this come from? When did this become…whatever the hell this is?"
"I wanted to say something a while back —"
"How long?"
"Rome. I've been meaning to say something since Rome. At least that's when I thought about maybe saying something?"
"Rome?" she said, her voice becoming strained now. "That was two months ago! You've been waking up in the bed next to me for two months not saying anything?"
His eyes continued to dance, focusing on anything but her. "Not exactly, no."
"Well, I've kind of always felt like this. Since the day I met you."
His words struck once more, each breath struggling its way up Bella's throat. "We met four years ago, Alex. Are you trying to say you've loved me for four years and said nothing?"
"It took a few months for me to fall in love with you, but yeah, pretty much."
Jumping to her feet, she took three steps back, looking down at him, his puppy dog face seeming to plead with her to feel the same. A maze of questions and worry and confusion bounded inside her. "This is crazy. In fact, no. This is stupid. You don't love me. We're friends. Best friends, in fact, so there's no way you love me. Not like that."
"Don't tell me how I feel. It's all I've been able to think about for years, so trust me, this is real."
"Why now? Why not two months ago in Rome? Or last year at graduation? Or, here's a thought, four years ago at the party when we first met?"
"It's not that easy. You think I like this? Come on, this is you we're talking about. You go from one relationship to the next, and guess who's there to fix things? What did you want me to do? Tell you when you had a boyfriend, or as you cried on my shoulder?"
She moved to respond, but the stutter in her throat formed once more. For a second, she hated him. "Fine, what do we do about this? We can't just become a couple, can we? What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know, how about yes."
"I can't—"
"Why? Why is it so crazy to think we can work? We're best friends, you said it yourself. We get along and we're comfortable around each other and know each other better than anyone. Don't you think it's the perfect foundation for something more?"
"It's not that easy, is it?"
"Because it's scary, for one, and what about when things don't work out? You're my rock, and I'm completely useless at this sort of thing. It's a terrible idea and I think you know that."
His pleading face faded back to the serious look from before. She knew he'd given up, that she'd won, yet she was unsure whether it was a victory she wanted.
"Okay, that's fine. I said what I needed to say and now we can move on. It's over."
"No, it's fine. Let's just leave it."
And the agony of the situation took over, and she knew her best friend was gone. Things would never be the same again and the memory of this very moment, this very paradise, would forever linger.
The bright white beach hung far below Clark's feet, his body hanging over the railing and straining to see where the sand and forest met. With a heavy sigh, he pushed back and let sky once again take over. The montage of blues filled the horizon, wisps of white dancing between them.
His hope of taking his mind off of his predicament screamed to a halt as each lonely step brought more confusion. He remembered times of being alone in the past, many times, times when he was happy and at ease with his own company. It angered him to think about such thoughts and compare them to his current state. Why couldn't he be happy? Why was he not comfortable with his own mind anymore?
Sam's arrival those many months ago had created a team. He had grown up comfortable on his own, yet now he longed for companionship, not knowing whether being lonesome would ever feel the same again. He would soon return to England, back to his old life and the potential of something new. It was coming, and each day brought it ever closer.
The previous night, in the dark, small restaurant, they had spoken about what would happen next. The tiny table bulged with empty bottles and glasses, Clark on trial as Sam ranted about his desire to move on. He resisted, although looking back, he wasn't too sure why.
Despite what was said, Clark never thought Sam would leave. Frayed, distant memories of the night before toyed with him, the hazy view of them returning back to the apartment, Clark lying in bed as Sam stood above him saying goodnight.
Clark smiled for the first time all day, amused at the irony of the situation and sense of humor of his best friend.
With temptation and fear
The bus, crammed to capacity, was full of faces dripping with sweat. Bella knew she should feel uncomfortable, that the heat was doing unthinkable things to her hair and certain parts of her shirt, but all of her attention was on Clark and his stories of the past. She had met him an hour ago and already knew about his journeys around Europe, America, Australia, and a whole host of countries she'd never heard of. Each of his new stories helped her relax and find a new ease in telling her own traveling tales.
"It just seems a little strange, that's all," she said, playing with a curl of long brown hair. "Why would he leave like that? I'd be so angry if Alex ever did that to me."
"I know it sounds strange, but it's how we are. I should have seen it last night, really. He can be a real piece of work sometimes."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we both hate goodbyes, always have. When I came away, I didn't want anyone at the airport with me. I figured it'd be too hard and just wanted to get on with things—"
"Wait, so your parents didn't go with you?"
"Nope, didn't let them. They were pretty pissed, I can tell you that much. Anyway, I didn't want Sam to come, either, but we were out the night before, having some farewell drinks, and I said to him: Can't we say goodnight instead of goodbye?"
She had no idea how this was relevant, but was happy to sit and listen regardless. "Okay?"
"Last night, we went out for dinner in this dark, crappy little restaurant—"
"Yeah, I was meaning to say, I think I was there."
"Oh, I know."
"You do?" she said, stroking the back of her neck.
"Yeah, I remember you. I never forget a pretty face." His blue eyes were on her, Bella blushing and gripping her neck tighter.
"Anyway, as you probably noticed, we were rather drunk. Sam mentioned about learning to fly and leaving Thailand, but I didn't feel like talking about it. I can't remember too much after that, but I do remember going to bed and hearing him say goodnight. He never says goodnight, I should have known then what he was planning."
Still blushing, she motioned to reply but was flung into the seat in front as the bus screeched to a stop. The window was suddenly caked in dust, the journey apparently coming to an end in a less-than-dignified manner.
"You okay?" asked Clark, offering his hand.
"Yeah I'm fine, thanks," she held her shoulder, trying to rub the pain away. "Let's just get off this bus–" she began before stepping out of her seat and into the aisle, a stray bag connecting with her head and sending her backward into the arms of Clark.
"Thanks…and sorry about that."
She leaped off the bus, now rubbing her cheek, and was met by a rush of fresh air. She hadn't realized how hot she was on the stifling bus, but the new sensation was a welcome relief.
An array of greens reached all around her, columns of sunlight creeping though gaps from above. A flutter danced beneath her skin and she wondered if her traveling dream was on the verge of coming true. "This is wonderful," she said, spinning and taking in her surroundings. "So where are you taking me, Englishman?"
Clark squinted at the map, turning it from one angle to the other. "This one seems good," he said, pointing at a red line. "It's long, but apparently has the best views on the island."
The conditions beneath the cover of trees were bearable, and Bella enjoyed the gentle stroll alongside a new and intriguing character. Another hour spun by; this time their conversation focussed on music, books, and movies. The constant and gentle hum of a million insects created the perfect backdrop and put an end to any uncomfortable breaks in conversation.
"Okay, Clark, why exactly did you come away in the first place? Two years of traveling is amazing, but what made you do it?"
He seemed to look to the sky in search of an answer, although she suspected he had one ready in waiting, having discussed the subject no doubt countless times before with girls seduced by his accent. "There wasn't a plan as such. I just needed to get out and see the world. I've always felt like I've been missing something, but never knew what it was. I figured traveling might help, and I'm not saying I've found it, but I'm in a better place…at least I think I am." He faced her now. "What about you? Why are you here?"
"Long story, I'm afraid."
"We have time."
Doubting there was ever enough time to share her story, she took a deep breath and prepared to delve deep into her past. "Fine, but I'm only telling you the short version. Basically I broke up with my boyfriend, again, cried on Alex's shoulder, again, and this time he offered me a way out and asked me to come traveling. He was already coming away, so I suppose it made sense, and I surprised myself and said yes."
The strides taken in the last five months amazed her. As she sat at the airport, about to begin her adventure, she looked back on her life. Years of unstable relationships had left her broken. She was tired and ready to start fresh, but didn't know if traveling would help. She had hoped it would bring out a new side, yet was aware old Bella would cling on tight. Despite the mental struggles, journeying around foreign lands brought a new outlook. The old Bella was still there, but she was losing her grip more and more each day.
As she roamed her thoughts, a jolt of color snapped her back to the present. She walked into a setting that was more painting than real life, bright white beaches dropping far below and hanging beneath her feet. The sea kissed the white sand and reached out far to the horizon. It was impossible to tell where the blues of the sky and ocean met, small, wispy lines of white the only clue as to the separation between the two. Turning her face to the sky, she let the sun soothe her skin, and for the first time in hours, her heart-rate dropped. Deep breaths brought the smell of leaves, salt, and the natural perfume of flowers. It was magical, just like her fantasy, and then something foreign touched her skin and the dream took a step closer.
Tingles shot up her arm and the hairs on her neck stood firm. A chill tingled over her skin, despite sweat covering it, and she sensed what was about to happen. She lowered her chin; Clark stood inches away with waiting lips.
Here we go again, she thought. Spend five months growing and taking some actual adult steps, and then as soon as a British guy comes along, have it all fall apart. I mean, really, where the hell is this going? I'll wake up tomorrow and he'll be ready to move on to the next country. He's spent two years traveling, for god's sake, what am I expecting to happen? Fall head over heels in love, watch him leave, and then cry with ice cream in one hand and vodka in the other? What I should do is push him away. Put a stop to this kissing right now and plant my hand on his firm, tight chest, and say 'NO.'
Then again, what if this time it's different? I'll never know without trying, and seriously, my luck has to change sometime, right? Maybe this is it, I'm overlooking heaven itself with a man not too far from my dream guy. Maybe this is the change I came away for. Maybe this time things will be different. Maybe… And her mind drifted away into the moment and the interlocking lips of an American girl and English boy.


text:
Ariel Gordon
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