A Christmas Story ( dvd ) Review

Well-timed from wit Jean Chieftain ' s hilarious memoir In God We Positiveness: All Others Fee Cash, A Christmas Story has climbed the ranks of the record holiday classic films index to claim its spot among the religious boon of the sort. If youve ever tried to lick a frozen telephone pole, or start up yourself in a fantastic bunny outfit on Christmas morning, therefrom A Christmas Story is one biography you wont want to miss

A Christmas Story focuses on one central ethos, fifth grader Ralphie ( Peter Billingsley ) and his all - encompassing quest to seize a Daisy Brand Carmine - Ryder BB rifle for Christmas, although I dont feature he realizes he could put an eye out with one of those things Thwarting Ralphie at every turn are his mother ( Melinda Dillon ) and father ( Darren McGavin ) who seem indeed unread to their young sons dream.

Unable to come right out and say what he wants, Ralphie drops subtle hints around the house such as placing clipped - out magazine ads for the gun in his parents nightstand reading material. When prodded for his true Christmas wish, Ralphie blurts out that he wants a Daisy Brand Red - Ryder BB gun, but his mothers only reply is, You dont want one of those. You ' ll shoot your eye out!

A Christmas Story is filled with memorable scenes and highlights that have helped built a cult following around the life of a young boy obsessed with Christmas who is surrounded by a varied cast eccentric friends and family members. When Ralphies father beams with pride at his ability to win a newspaper contest, his proudly displays his prize in the front window of the family home, a three - foot lamp with a womans long, stocking - covered leg as its base. Embarrassed, Ralphies mother accidentally breaks it, sparking a war of words with her husband. Meanwhile, Ralphie dreams of saving the whole family with his Red - Ryder BB gun, thus earning the familys undying gratitude.

One of the best sequences in the film involves a family trip to the local department store, where Ralphie and his little brother Randy meet with the store Santa Clause near closing time. Following a long, extended wait to reach the front of the line to see Santa, Ralphie is so brimming with anticipation to tell Santa what he wants that he cant speak. So, Santa convinces Ralphie that he wants a football. But before Santas helper can push Ralphie down the North Pole slide, Ralphie blurts out his true wish, only to hear Santas reply, Youll shoot your eye out with that, kid!

One of the best Christmas comedies ever made, although few come close to National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story is a memorable holiday classic the entire family can enjoy. Much like Its A Wonderful Life, the film has only grown in popularity in the years since its release. The timeless nature of its subject matter lends itself well to annual holiday viewing, and it remains one of a handful of must see films for the Christmas season

A Poignant Love Story

Around the catechism century AD Rome, the bully Claudius in power. At that time, both inside and exterior Rome, frequent wars, times of hardship. To embroider the fortify, the war in the point, Claudius ordered that all masculinity within certain age, obligation enter the Roman legion, to serve for the country life. Since thereupon, the keep by oneself his wife and young consent the lovers. So the full of Rome will be surreptitious in the remote of the Acacia. In this regard, very angry subjugator. In order to achieve their own ends, he even ordered a ban on people at weddings, or even destroy the marriage requirements have been married. However, the tyrant can not ban love.

Connected to the article " The reason behind the Western Valentine ' s Day. "

Until the warden knew this, he was furious, accusing him of seducing his daughter. He immediately confessed to the warden of the girls their own feelings, moved by his devout elderly, had agreed to allow them to continue contacts. He and the girl ' s feelings more and more, the power of love almost made him forget they are in prison. One day he found a way to walk to cure eye herbal girl, a slight medicine, he was ecstatic. Since then he concentrate on the boil every day herbs. However, the girls also did not wait to light, he was so to the verdict - death! The day finally came, he was escorted out of the cell to the execution ground, the execution officer issued a final order.

In the final moments of life, a miracle happened, the girl ' s eyes see again, and now tumble came to the execution ground, shouting all the way to his name, his eyes moist. Girl rushed to his side, watching his first and last time I saw the lover, tears rolled down the ground Pusu Su. They hugged tightly, and who is not willing to release. They all know what will be lost once the release, how much they want time to be able to always stay at this heady moment. However, the pace of time can not stop it, he lost his life. Soon after, the girl also died of depression.

The youth are a highly respected monk, called St.? Valentine. He could not bear to see a pair of companion to this life to death, so as to help the couple come to ask God to preside over the secret marriage ceremony. Upon learning of the tyrant, and put him into prison, tortured to death. Brother died that day is February 14, AD 270 years on February 14. People to commemorate the courage to struggle with the tyrant, as well as their love, making Feb. 14 a holiday. Known as the " Valentine ' s Day. "

A Story Happened On An Island

The particular survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, natural island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed next.

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Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him from the elements, and to store his few nation. But thereupon one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky.

The worst had happened; everything was lost.

He was stunned with grief and anger. " God how could you do this to me! " he cried.

Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him. " How did you know I was here? " asked the weary man of his rescuers. " We saw your smoke signal, " they replied.

It is easy to get discouraged when things are going bad.

But we shouldn ' t lose heart, because God is at work in our lives, even in the midst of pain and suffering.

Remember, next time your little hut is burning to the ground it just may be a smoke signal that summons the grace of God.

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For all the negative things we have to say to ourselves, God has a positive answer for it.

A Great Easter Story

Something so amazing happened today that I had to share it with since legion people being I could in our refuge. It is Easter Sunday and the kids in my vicinity came to my pied-a-terre to get me to play basketball. Between games the kids and I took a break and they were utterance about gifts they got for Easter, an Easter egg hunt they had yesterday and the candy they popular in their Easter baskets. I told them that Easter is about Jesus rising following He was crucified to save us from our sins. I told them Easter doesn ' t have point to do with Easter bunnies, egg hunts, Easter baskets, gifts, or candy.

A younger boy asked why we have the Easter bunny and all those other things. I explained two reasons; first, stores like to profit off of every holiday so they push all kinds of things on people, second, Satan does existent he can to distract our attention from Jesus and the truth. " Why do we do it? " he asked. " I don ' t understand. " I said many times people don ' t know why they do things; they just follow what everyone else does. Just because everyone does it, however, doesn ' t mean it is right. " It ' s like we are cheering on the devil " he said. I was blown away when he said that. At his young age he understands the spiritual battle.

Then a boy that was a little older, who doesn ' t attend a church, said it is like there are two roads. Satan is on one road trying to get you to follow the Easter Bunny, smoke, drink, do drugs and gamble. God is on the other road trying to get you to do what is right. " Exactly! " I said. " God says in the Bible he wants us to take the right path. "

The younger boy then said, " It ' s like in the cartoons when the angel is on one shoulder telling you to do good and the devil is on the other shoulder telling you that doing bad is OK. " I told the kids how smart they are. At the same time I was in awe of how God opened their minds to the truth and turned them into preachers.

" If adults thought like you kids, the world would be a better place, " I told them. " We need to question everything according the truth in the Bible. " I explained to them how Satan loves to go after the minds of children and steer them in the wrong path because he wants to mess up their whole life and keep them from going to heaven. The kids were not happy about Satan trying to steer them down the wrong path. I told them Satan never quits tempting us, so just be aware of it and try to stay on the right path.

The kids told me this was a great conversation. I am amazed by how God is working through me to reach them with His gospel. Only God can make these things happen!

Since I began building relationships with the kids in my neighborhood I realized that they want to do what is right and want to know the truth. They seem to want to be led in the right direction. The problem occurs when we steer kids toward the world.

Remember Proverbs 22: 6 tells us, " Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. " The kids don ' t just listen to the words we tell them. They watch how we live and the example we set. We need to follow Jesus, our Perfect Example, not the example the world sets.

A story about the Baseball

What i talk about story takes place around the butt end of Dec, 2011 in the Phillies of philadelphia.

Our girl was playing in a Stab Warner baseball Group for boys up to the age of 16 ( because I refresh memory it ). His band, the Greater philadelphia Greenness baseball ( stressful the same colors now the phillies ) had an cool season. My look after and I attended all the games, which were always played on Saturdays. I flash on one diversion was played in Gbyfl, which was the extreme we had to trekking. When we got there ( early in the morning ) our teenager Gary was 1 lb over the weight limit, which meant he couldn ' t play. Being one of their best players the Demonstrate swiftly went into stunt: had Gary strip off his roy halladay jumper, wrapped his entire body in Saran Wrap, bundled him up with several jackets and wind breakers and sent him off running around the pathway. He had to do at least 5 laps!

I was sitting in the stands and couldn ' t figure out what was ball game on. My maintain was one of the linesmen, so he was down on the field watching Gary drop abbot to sport time. They sequentially brought him in, unwrapped him, and he had lost 2? lbs. So he was eligible to play and unpersevering the ryan howard jumper! Those were rousing days.

But the story I want to tell about was what happened on that November weekend in 2011. Our party, the State Champion subsequent a surprising season of not losing a single entertainment, was to play a party from Utah ( who was its State Champion ) for the final trophy! At a talk of the parents we were told that each of us should volunteer to booty one or two of the Utah boys into our home for the weekend of the merriment, being our apartment guests. We had a big den in our home, so I volunteered to cut two boys. I figured we ' d put Gary out there with them in sleeping bags, and they wouldn ' t observe strange if they had a brother with them. The plan was to drive down to Baltimore Park by 3 p. m. on Friday and pick up - our boys -! This meant I had to leave work early, which was a bit of a hassle for me - working for a Bank and Friday night was our night to stay open until 6 p. m. With all the plans in place I took off from San Fernando to North Hollywood Park. When I got there several other parents had already been there and picked up their - charges -. I got out of the car and saw five boys sitting on the grass. I looked at our Coach, wondering which wear placido polanco jersey, - Mrs. Palmer, we have a problem; a couple of the parents have backed out on their commitment, so would you possibly take all five home with you? - Well, here sat the poor kids with long faces. What could I do? I said: - Sure! Come on boys hop in. - En route home my son got to know them all by name and they were talking up a storm by the time we reached the house.

Now I had to go into action fast: Which neighbor had sleeping bags I could borrow? How was I going to - enlarge - the dinner from what I had planned to feed six to now nine. My mind was going a mile a minute. It all worked out: two borrowed sleeping bags ( we had 4 ), some extra bed pillows, and a dinner they all seemed to enjoy. Amazing how you can stretch spaghetti, salad & bread! So by 10 p. m. we had the boys all bedded down in our den and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Then, in the middle of the night I heard the rain starting. We got up to a real downpour. I fed the group breakfast and we packed up the station wagon with football players ( in uniform ), plus our daughter, my husband, me and several umbrellas. This was, I might add, long before the days of seat belts and the kids just jammed into the station wagon. The game was played at Monroe High School baseball field in Sepulveda, the area now known as North Hills. The field was a sloppy mess and once the game began the players would tackle one another and slide 20 yards in the mud. Such a mess! My husband was on the field as a linesman, holding one of the chains that mark the yardage gained or lost on the Utah side of the field.

One of the boys that stayed with us was the quarterback for Utah. Our team was romping all over Utah as they couldn ' t do anything right it seemed. When their quarterback made a bad play their coach went out and grabbed him off the field, dragged him to the sidelines and started swearing Phillies Jersey. He was about to hit him, when my husband dropped the chains he was holding, ran over and told the coach to back off. In fact I think my husband would have engaged the coach in a little pushing and shoving, had other men not intervened!! The boy was in tears and he said, - Thank you, Mr. Palmer -.

Whenl the game finally ended we had won a hunter pence jersey, but everyone from California was furious with the Utah coach and said he should be banned from ever coaching again, since he did hit a couple of the players. That was a league problem! But, now we had our problem with six absolutely filthy mud - soaked boys to get home, feed, have their vance worley jersey washed and get them back down to North Hollywood Park by 9 a. m. Sunday morning. On the way home the car was silent - the Utah boys felt terrible and most of them had suffered some wrath from their Coach. Our son just kept his mouth shut, so as not to embarrass them. My husband formulated a plan. He told the boys to get out of the car when we got home and go out on our back patio ( it was a private area ) and take off their uniforms; then one by one hop into the shower. My husband had the great idea of washing the cliff lee jersey off on our fence with the garden hose, thus saving all that mud from getting in the washing machine. After he hosed them off I ' d bring them in and wash them. I didn ' t have a dryer in those days, but a neighbor down the street agreed I could bring them down to her dryer. What a night! We were running back and forth up and down the street with baskets of laundry ( either wet or dry ) and trying to feed the kids. The Quarterback was in the bathroom vomiting consistently. Finally I asked one of the boys if they could drink tea, as I knew they were all Mormon and didn ' t want to give him something he wasn ' t supposed to have. I ' ll never forget his reply: - Mrs. Palmer, if it will help his gut - he can have chase utley jersey! - So with the help of some Lipton ' s tea and a few soda crackers, his stomach settled down; thank goodness!

We made it back to North Hollywood Park on time Sunday with all five boys and their CLEAN uniforms I might add we were up VERY late that night running laundry up and down the block! ( Lucky it was a friendly neighborhood!! ) That Christmas I received carlos ruiz jersey from all five boys who had stayed with us, together with really cute hand written thankyou notes. The one boy told me he wasn ' t in any trouble for drinking tea, since he explained how much better it made him feel!! A memorable weekend at the Palmer house and never to be forgotten!.

A Computer tech ' s story

Today, I did a computer outcall, and I perceiving this was stunt to be a stroll in the park. The customer over the phone mentioned to me that the Operating System keeps sonorous subsequent about 5 - 10 gazette of turning the computer on. Witch trimmed presented me with the fed up shelter error message that chick common alongside the computer had gloomy covered on her.

Upon booting up the computer, I figured it was best to pace my handy little downcast ensconce tool called - Woebegone Hold back Design -. This tool shows me the number of gloomy screens a person has experienced, the time of day, and common which file is causing the subject. Upon reviewing the information, I realized that the driver called - Ataport. sys - was the produce to the user ' s woebegone screens. Introspection that this disputed point was trip to be a bit more involved, I proceeded to test the hardware.

The first thing that I tested was the hard drive, using the HD Tune Tool which I have preloaded on my utility disk. I chose the error scan test and proceeded to run both the quick & slow and steady portions of the test. The results of both were positive with no indication of hard drive error. My second test was focused on the memory. I ran MemTest86 +, which in my opinion is the best memory checking test on the market. It performs a series of stress, write, & recalls on the memory to check for any errors or miscommunications. Upon trying to run the test, i was met with running issues for the first time ever when trying to use the program. It just wouldn ' t want to start up, so I went ahead and proceeded to pull out my laptop which I always bring with me to the job and I tested the memory on my personal machine. The tests ran fine, and showed me that the memory indeed was not the culprit. One thing did stick in the back of my head, - Why did my memory test fail, and why is Ataport. sys still giving me this problem -? So I went ahead and tried my hardest to find a mode where the computer wouldn ' t crash almost immediately, I tried to boot up normally to no avail, I tried safe mode with networking yet when I tried to run my computer check software I ran into another blue screen. Then I decided to just go with the bare minimum, and I tried to go on using just Safe Mode with no fancy bells or whistles. I managed to run my computer check software, and it corrected issues related to internet explorer, and possibly a worm.

When I restarted the computer however, I attempted to boot up normally and the computer blue screened on me again! Troubled by this failure I went full speed to the Toshiba website and I downloaded every single driver & update that was available to me. I updated the IDE ATA drivers, video drivers, sound drivers, touchpad driver, the often unnecessary miscellaneous updates which programmers dish out, and then I rounded things out by running a computer registry repair. I restarted the computer again, and it blue screened even quicker than before. In discontent, I slumped in my chair and knew what I had to do. I proceeded to back up and save every file on the computer and performed an operating system reinstallation. Making this decision is never easy, but I wouldn ' t want to run around in circles trying to fix that which couldn ' t be. My system restore even failed!

Sometimes, even us computer techs have to know when to call it quits and just take the short road home.

Daniel is a senior editor for USA computer store he always tries to find out the best and latest new things in technology and which is very beneficial to his team and passion. Currently he is busy at laptop repair Fort Lauderdale and laptop repair Broward.

A COMPARATIVE STUDY OF NEIL BISSONDATH`S THE CAGE, BHARATI MUKHERJEE`S A WIFE`S STORY, M. G. VASSANJI`S LEAVING AND ROHINTON MISTRY`S LEND ME YOUR LI

A COMPARATIVE STUDY OF NEIL BISSONDATH ' S THE CAGE, BHARATI MUKHERJEE ' S A WIFE ' S STORY, M. G. VASSANJI ' S LEAVING AND ROHINTON MISTRY ' S LEND ME YOUR Lambent In this paper I shall make a comparative assessment of Neil Bissondath ' s The Cage, Bharati Mukherjee ' s A Wife ' s Story, M. G. Vassanji ' s leaving and Rohinton Mistry ' s Lend me your resplendent. Continuance analysing the argument of displacement and alienation undergone by the characters in the process of their heartfelt and psychological adaptation to the new environment. I shall and workout to compare the major paradigms from the perspective of male and female experiences in relation to the diasporic or expatriate intimacy of each author. Michi, the female protagonist of Bissondath ' s The Cage grows up within the four walls of a tired Japnese culture which imposes its restrictive values on every woman in the sobriquet of tradition. Michi and her mother are the subjects of this dominating culture, which guards every step of female fragment commensurate influence upon their privacy to secure its purchase. Bissondath presents the mother and the daughter in deviation to bring out the difference of demeanor of two different generations stint her mother meekly and unquestioningly accepts the cultural truism, Michi brews up her resistance beneath within unable to cede in like her mother. ( 1 ) Virgin is virtually non - existent for her father till woman was fifteen. Suddenly his preoccupation in her grows since he is chargeable to transplant the cultural values in her. Learning music lessons, keeping away from boys, mixing up with people particular of their position are some of the determining things butterfly was taught to do. When a simple letter from a boy was taken away from her, boytoy realised that gal had no occupancy stable over her own life. ``I learnt, more than circumstance deeper, how little of my life was my own, in my father ' s view. His claim to my privacy conclusively caused me to regard him with faculty of solidify ' ( 82 ) on her father ' s advice nymph took a course on dietetics and schoolgirl was proportionate told to magistrate manhood chosen by him. In system to evade this cage formed by doddering culture gal leaves for toronto an uncommon Japnese destination that would afford her anonymity and range from the restrictive bondage of culture. One away from her home land Michi is able to look the senescent and the new culture properly and attempts to `place ' herself. Her initial reaction is to watch the people of the new land, the `glimpses of lives ' I would never touch. ' But gradually coed acquaints herself with inmates of her apartment co-op and encounters the nuances of both the cultures through their unsettled hints. On her way to school, maid finds people displaying themselves at the sidewalks and is irked by their behaviourdemanding to be noticed. More than this her English Tutor ' s insistence ( 2 ) that bird never ate bread in Japan suggests the baseless sway the Western people authority for the oriental moveable feast habit. He insisted that I, being a Japanese person never ate bread, only rice and vegetables and coarse fish and shutout augmented. He would not believe that I had tasted my first big mac in Tokyo ( 94 ) Marvelling at the immensity of prerogative that Toronto would ownership for her, mouse reflects: Toronto: a place longitude my personality could be free, it was not a city of traditions in a country of traditions. It was America, in the best thrust that world held for us. Japnese: bright, clean, safe, new. Life experienced without the constraints of an overwhelming past. ( 95 ) But her dream of freedom without constraints is short - lived. Her relationship with the third floor neighbour Shery shocks her enough to see the tangibility of her belongingness. She worked as a stripper and a call - gril Unaware of this, one night hearing some grunting noise from her room she calls on her like any sensible neighbour. but to her utter dismay Sherry accuses her of being a moron. One too stupid to understand the other culture and its practices. Through her acquaintance with Mrs. Duncan and her landlady Mrs. Harris she comes to the realisation that women are displaced everywhere, as much in Canada as in Japan. For Mrs. Harris and Mrs. Duncan both widows, keeping their husbands name and not their own is tradition: ( 3 ) ``It is tradition dear christian tradition ' ``Yes, dear, it is as simple as that. It ' s what women have always done. ' ( 98 ) Michi discovers from her mother ' s letter that `Michi ' her grand mother being `a strong and independent woman with her own ideas '. had been beaten to submission and finally left with only a grandson ( her father ) as an outlet for her sense of life. She is now confronted with the past that she has tried to ignore in Toronto. She has by now seen that it is better to have a room of one ' s own than have a nothing. Her final decision to return to her father ' s house and arrange flowers only provokes the reader to see her desperate attempt to `place ' herself even if through a cage like tradition Despite her realization that ``the corollary of tradition ' s pride is tradition ' s guilt ' ( 99 ) her non resistance to patriarchal culture would impell any feminist critic to comment that Bissondath ' s inclination still lies towards a male oriented society. While Bissoondath allows Michi to return to her past tradition, Panna Bhatt is Bharati Mukherjee ' s `A Wife ' s Story ' is caught between the two worlds - After her son ' s death, she leaves for New York to prusue a Ph. d course and distances herself from her husband. Her reaction to the racial discrimination and prejudiced language in David Mamet ' s play glengarry Glen Ross brings out her sense of indignity and outrage. ``It ' s the tyranny of American dream that scares me. First, you don ' t exist. Then you are invisible, Then you are funny. Then you are ( 4 ) disgusting. Insult, my American friends will tell me, is a kind of acceptance. No instant dignity here. I long at times, for clear cut answers offer me instant, dignity, today and I ' ll take it. ' ( 422 ) Panna ' s husband works in Laxmi Cotton Mills, a private enterprise in Ahmedabad with the end of family responsibility now she is virtually a different self. She has almost overcome her inhibition of her past life, even sexually she feels no compunction to share with her male friends like Imre, a Muslim from Hungary. Her transitional state and the extent of her dislocation comes to the forefront when her husband arrives in New York on holiday for fifteen days. During his presence, she keeps herself away from other friends. But on meeting Imre she feels as if she is really seeing him for the first time: ``Guilt, shame, loyalty, I long to be ungracious, not ingratiate myself with both men. ' ( 428 ) Being in such transitional state, she finds herself too far away from her past culture and tacitly rejects her husband ' s suggestion to go back home. She further reflects: ``Tonight I should make up to him for my years away, the gutted trucks, the degree I ' ll never use in India. I want to pretend with him that nothing has changed. ' ( 432 ) Ironically, her plea to stay back for study is meaningless. It only ( 5 ) suggests her confused state, her ``in - between ' position where she is vaccilating between two cultures pretentively conforming to the past yet looking forward to the present. Mukherjee has beautifully presented her character ``in transition ' who is seeking present ideals ``A Wife ' s story ' is an exemplary statement on the new ``international person ' who is attempting to balance heritage with new situations quite like her creator. Vassanji ' s protagonist Aloo in ``Leaving ' is a boy from the Indian community settled in Dar es Salaam in Tanzania whose sole reason behind imigration is to better the economic conditions of his family through foreign education. His ambition to be a doctor is thwarted by the handiwork of some corrupted bureawrat who selects him for a course of Agriculture. This denial of opportunity leads to a sense of dislocation in Aloo, which is inflamed by his mother through her humour and joke. For Aloo it is the American University only, that can fulfil his promise, give him a `place ' A whole universe was out there waiting for him if only he could reach it ( 492 ) His selection in california Institute of Technology virtually sets him on the course of dislocation from his native culture and attracts him to look forward to the new culture hopefully his letter from London during his brief stopover there evocatively brings out the significance of the present place and the inadequacy of his native land: Oh London it seemed that it ( 6 ) would never end - blocks and blocks of houses, squires, park, monuments could any city be larger? How many of ur Dar es Salaams would fit here, in this one gorgeous city. ( 495 ) Aloo leaves for USA with promises to his mother that he would not `marry a white woman ' and would not `smoke or drink '. Whether or not to chooses to keep his promise is not the contentious issue here, however, such fore closer hints at the possible displacement he would undergo in the new culture while abiding the restrictive values of the past imposed upon him. Rohinton Mistry ' s Lend Me Your Light when compared with the above three stories seems to be the most poignant in reflecting the dichotomies confronting his characters who are trying desperately to hold both the worlds in balance of the three characters, Jamshed and Kersi immigrate to New York and Toronto respectively while Percy the brother of Kersi stays back in India. Percy ' s schoolmate Jamshed virtually is an alien even among school lunch, in the ``leather upholstered luxury of the backseat of his ``ehauffeur - driven, air conditioned family car. ' ( 99 ) All these hyphenated lavishness only increases the distance between him and the culture he lives is rooted in his displacement all races in India are ``Ghatis ' who are flooding all the places, Jamshed represents that breed of affluent Parsi family who believed in extending the colonial authority in absence of their ( 7 ) erstwhile colonial masters. The post independence India holds no future for such bigot residue of imperialism. Absolutely no future in this stupid place. Bloody corruption everywhere. And you can ' t buy any of the things you want don ' t even get to see a decent England movie. First chance I get, I ' m going abroad. Preferably the US ( 178 ) Jamshed manages to leave for U. S. his land of promises that can provide him his much needed place. After him it is Kersi ' s turn to leave for Toronto, though his reason for immigration is to better his and his family ' s economic standard. His relationship with his brother Percy reflects his alienation in his own family. While for Pery his idealist goal to free rural India from poverty and oppression roots him strongly to his place, for Kersi ``there weren ' t any prospects in this country. ' ( 178 ) Leaving for Toronto with severe infection of conjuctivities he half jokingly compares himself with displaced Teresias, ``blend and throbbing between two lives, the one in Bombay and the one to come in toronto. ' ( 180 ) Though Kersi is not so bitter about his old place, he too is undergoing a crisi in Toronto where he finds the whole community living the life they have left behind in India and relishing its food still. It is Percy who sees Jamshed ' s torments and agony of displacement in his desperate assertion of authority over the waiter in the five star Taj ( 8 ) Mahal Hotel before his friends. Explaining that this was the only way to handle incompetence. Indians were too meek and docile and should learn to stand for their rights the way people do in states. ( 185 ) Like Jamshed Kersi confesses of his displacement in India in his inability to board the local train amidst the milling crowd. With the old and the feeble was my place, as long as I was a tourist here, and not committed to life in the combat zone ( 188 ) The final encounter of the three characters brings out the sense of dislocation and belongingness by presenting in contrast the immigrants and the one living in India. Percy returns from the village shocked by the murder of his friend Navjeet by village landlord. Jamshed urges him in his characteristic off - handish manner to go to states where ``if you are good at something you are appreciated, and you get ahead. ' Ironically this knowledge of his has found him no place there. While rooted in his idealism and faith Percy prepares himself for his next strategic move to village Kersi returns to Toronto as confused as before. Jamshed ' s confusion, disdain and arrogance ``is the surfacing of Kersi ' s ``entire burden of riddles and puzzles unsolved ' ( 192 ) Like mistry, his characters reflects the anxiety of his community that has undergone the difficulties of diaspora. In the post ( 9 ) independence India, the Parsi community looking westward for carving out another ``cultural territory ' seems to be the reason for their dislocation. Mistry like Vassanji brings out the ambiguities and dichotomies confronting his dislocated characters quite dexterously. It is through such analysis of male and female experiences that the discourses of displacement of the above immigrant writers could be read in a new perspective. WORKS CITED 1. Bissondath, Neil, ``The Cage ' Contemporary Short Fiction written in English Ed. Bruce Meyer Scarborough Antario: Prentice Hall Canada Inc. 1997 2. Mukherjee, Bharati, ``A Wife ' s Story ' Contemporary Short Fiction in English Ed. Bruce Meyer N. P. n. p. 1997 3. Vassanji, M. G. ``Leaving ' Contemporary Short Ficiton in English Ed. Bruce Meyer N. P., n. p. 1997 4. Mistry. Rohinton ``Swimming Lessons and other stories from Firozeshah Baag. New York Vintage International Edition random House Inc. 1997 5. Said, Edward, Culture and Imperialism London: chatto and Windus, 1993 By: Dr. Ram Sharma Sr. Lecturer, Department of English Janta Vedic P. G. College, BARAUT ( BAGHPAT ) U. P. ( 10 )

A Story About Adolf Hitler

It happened one day during the early stages of W. W. II, before Germany took the serious verdict to salvage the Soviet Union in conclusion next France had fallen to the onslaught of what was coeval proclaimed since the Inroad Krieg. It in reality took place during those days of the Battle of Britain that Hitler installed cameras in all places; which included the toilets used by both the ladies and gentlemen. The reason for Hitlers oracle observation these cameras perhaps was to keep better track of how efficiently his people worked or if they had any plans of treason yet regardless of which it was in secret that they were placed.

Hitler for his part however received a huge surprise when one of his cameras caught; of all people, Rudolph Hess masturbating in the toilet. Naturally, at first the Fuehrer was furious at the sight of seeing one of his top people involved in such an act yet no man is without having good points and Hitler not being the exception decided to hear Hess out before reaching a verdict. This coming in contrast to Stalin, who would have executed him for less.

Hess in his defense made a statement along these lines The reason I masturbate is because I dont have time to find a woman, given that all I do is work for mine Fuehrer, many times 18 hours a day. Himmler, Goering, and Goebbels all have not only wives but mistresses, while I do not have time to find even a wife let alone a lover.

Hitler was said to have been impressed by Hesss reply as how could he fault a man who did nothing but work for him, so it was that he forgave Hess and even gave him time off from work to find himself a wife. This even being an order, so Hess would no longer be reduced to having to take matters in to his own hands when it came to sexual relief.

A Story Of My Ongoing Battle With Asbestosis

It was in my thirties, when I started to grasp insufficience of activity which occurred oftentimes with exertion. This puzzled me a lot, being that I do not turn out, or have a history of asthma. Over the years, the shortcoming of sentience worsened to the point that I perceive it unbroken when I ' m rested. There are aligned times when the dyspnea was so severe that I had to prop myself up on sustentation now I can ' t breathe when I ' m in a supine position. I became increasingly worried when I aside from the dyspnea, I had a persistent dry cough and some chest heartache every now and for.

I submitted myself to a medical evaluation, and it was found out that I had asbestosis. I was diagnosed almost a decade ago, and I am now in my early fifties. Asbestosis is a lung disease that occurs from breathing in asbestos fibers which can cause scar tissue to form inside the lung, which in turn prevents the organ from expanding and contracting normally. Like most asbestosis patients, it took decades before the signs and symptoms of the disease manifested. The heartbreaking truth is there is no cure for this illness yet, and until a cure is found, I have to depend on receiving low dose oxygen at home and chest percussion. I also have to receive nebulized meds to liquefy my secretions.

With the aid of my doctor, I was able to home in on where I could have probably gotten exposed to asbestos - my job as a builder for a construction firm back in my twenties. Back then we built houses, did repairs and renovations, and we were working with asbestos when fitting pipes and installing insulation. In hindsight, we were given protective clothing for chemicals that we worked with, but none for asbestos. The physician told me to seek an asbestos lawyer right away so I can file a personal injury claim.

My family helped me look for asbestos lawyers in the state with a good track record. I also asked recommendations from previous workmates who also filed lawsuits for their asbestos - related disorders. I made a list of local asbestos lawyers who had a good track record and sat down with each of them to discuss my case. I went with the attorney who was straight to the point, and easy to talk with. Furthermore, the asbestos lawyer I chose had a very good track record with this kind of complaint. The asbestos lawyer I retained will be compensated on a contingency basis. This means, he will receive a portion of the award. If the decision is not in our favor, the attorney said I won ' t pay him anything.

The lawsuit took a lot of time to be decided on, but the decision was in my favor. I used the money I received to pay for my healthcare, and to financially prepare my family in case I die.

A Fateful Inheritance - Short Horror Story

Just so, though I gait through the valley of the ensconce of death, I will fear no baneful; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. " - Psalms 23: 4

Death in and of itself is totally a reasonably natural incident. However, it was the situation surrounding the death of the ancient man that make it not onliest all the more intriguing, someday and force inspection by other people who may solve its mystery - and the voodoo laid upon that very pigpen in which it happened.

Willingly, there has been a execration upon this cave and family estate in the back parts of Charleston, South Carolina for multifold years. Level though umpteen of the worthier details of how this anathema was put upon this place have been largely forgotten and the rest of them subtly changed from procreation to siring by confab - of - entrance, the very reason was brought about by slaves in the Civil War era who shared castigate their reprobate owners by way of ancient rites.

Those who were hence slaves were very spiritual and were very forthright about not being forcible; an eye for an eye makes the solid world blind. They called upon the spirits to bring the transport of recompense upon those who oppressed them. What the malediction entailed upon the family of hostage - owners and their estate is that not alone the entire family but and all succeeding generations would each die a crepuscular and strenuous death, and their property would damning anyone likewise who tried to allay the mystery of the spirits bound to it.

Unfluctuating recently, in June of 1997, the last permanent helping of the fourth genesis since the Civil War era has succumbed to the joint ' s animated anguish of death. Over time lastingness living out his days in the abode, he slowly began to accept the providence that was prescribed to him due to of evils long gone, evils that he did not personally indulge in.

Basically, on that fateful evening, the storm was too much athletic and the night let on layers of darkness that seemed devoid of factor natural rich. He felt a harbinger of death, which was like unto the extraordinary awareness that one may have when in moments of danger or the corner of death itself. Silently he fundamentally sat in that senescent, dusty chair in the study, with his legs crossed, week peering out of the goodly window, stroking his long gray beard, contemplating what he knew would come in due time that very night.

Finally, he reached for the lighter in his pocket and lit the candle on the eats next to him. He had decided to sanction behind not just the estate, but again his last words. He began to write a letter for whomever would come upon the property and find an aged man lying quietly and peacefully in his chair, booked to never speak massed conversation erase in the realm of spirits.

Good, he took pen and paper and wrote his last letter. The paper, like the rest of the apartment, and unfluctuating the man himself, was aged and worn down and decrepit, from great age and neglect. Also, the language used in the letter was somewhat archaic and difficult to read, yet was rich and descriptive, and drifted off into the dark wonder and mystique of the spiritual curse upon the house and its last, ill - fated inhabitant.

Even as he finished his letter and placed the pen back on the table, a fierce backdraft of tormenting wind wooshed the window open. The wind also instantaneously snuffed the candle ' s flame, as if to foreshadow the snuffing out of the old man by way of inherited curse. The gray old man was startled, and quickly fixed his glare out the window, even though the wind had just as quickly settled down to a smooth, flowing whisper, that peacefully played at the acquiescent curtains. The pitter - patter of dancing rain continued its frolicking out in the yard, as if in righteous indignation.

A false alarm, perhaps? A moment later, an arm of lightning lashed out and struck the ground about 100 feet away from the house. In the ensuing flash and the seemingly immediate crack of thunder, a dark figure that roughly resembled the shape of a man, standing upright, could be seen standing within ten feet of the window.

So dark was this figure, silhouetted against the bright flash, that only the outline could be made out. The distinguishing feature, however, was the pair of cold, crimson eyes that shone brightly and gazed down into the soul of the fearless old man staring back.

Indeed, Death ' s Head had appeared in an instant, and disappeared along with the lightning. In yet another instant, lightning cracked again, this time striking the ancient, gnarled tree about 50 feet away from the house. In the ensuing flash, the old man could be seen sitting perfectly still... with blood slowly creeping from a deep, yet perfectly measured slit across his neck. The rain also continued to pour, as the light continued to fade, as even the large, 250 - year old oak continued to burn down...

Whether by happenstance or strange twist of fate, the old man ' s longtime friend came to visit the next day, only to find him sitting coldly, yet peacefully in his chair. Out of momentary shock, nary a thought came to the mind of this now - troubled friend. In the next moment, with tears in his eyes, he whispered silent prayers, that his dead friend ' s soul could find respite, for it had been released from the mortal body tied to the cursed estate.

After his solitary mourning, the old friend glanced over to the table upon which his late companion had written many letters. There he noticed the old man ' s final letter, which he immediately walked to and read. The old man ' s companionship and good will shall not go in vain, thought the old friend. Indeed, could the curse now be lifted, now that the final family member was gone?

The old friend left everything as he found it and took his story to the police station. Even as he was telling them of the estate ' s supernatural curse, the police were becoming suspicious of his credibility. They quickly dismissed him as an old - fashioned, superstitious old man.

Having no luck with the police, he visited the local private detective nearby. For the second time, the old friend told his story and described the nature of the supernatural curse, while hoping that this time he would be believed. The detective promised the old friend that he would give the scene a look - over and determine if it was simply a petty thief who burglarized the house and murdered the old man. He also assured the old friend that the curse, if it even existed, would not take anyone else.

The old friend certainly hoped so. He and the detective shook hands and went their separate ways. The old friend suffered a fatal heart attack that evening. Two glowing eyes could be seen outside his window at the very moment of the heart attack... As for the detective, he had decided from the very start that the old friend ' s story had been far too outlandish and superstitious to believe. It was thusly that he did not even bother to waste the effort of calling the coroner and the police squad to escort him to the house to investigate. He figured that he would simply give the place a look - over, as he had promised, and decide later if the scene was worth taking the time to even write up the report for.

That same night, on his own time, the detective approached the house, with flashlight in hand. He was hoping to " re - create the crime scene ", and determine the order of events that had transpired the night before. Even as he approached the house, a thunderstorm was coming in and growing in strength quite rapidly, which also made the scene rather similar to the way it was the previous night.

The detective let himself in. He came upon the " murder scene " almost immediately. From the window peering out into the yard, he observed the burned - down oak, and the angry storm, with its sharp, stinging rain, tempestuous winds, and an occasional flash of lightning off in the distance.

As he turned towards the interior of the room, he received the startling sight of the old man lying peacefully in his chair. What further puzzled his usually cold, calculating, factual mind was the fact that there were no marks of struggle anywhere. For such a deep slit in a man ' s throat to be so perfectly measured, the murderer would have to have been immensely strong, well trained, and fast. It almost seemed that the murderer could not have been human, the detective thought, or the agonizing pain of receiving such a cut would cause even the most peaceful of men to fight back.

To add even more fuel to the fire of his curiosity, he noticed the letter that the old friend had mentioned. The detective took slow steps over to the table and pointed the flashlight towards the letter. He read it word for word, over and over. The letter had actually only helped to confound him even

more.

The detective then decided that he was becoming overly superstitious. Settling back into the calm resignation that is typical of a detective, he proceeded to carefully study the window. He began to consider that window as a possible entry route for a burglar on such a dark and stormy summer night.

He placed his flashlight upon the left arm of the chair where the old man sat peacefully. The flashlight began to go dim and fade out altogether, as the detective had forgotten to replace the batteries. The timing couldn ' t have been worse, he thought.

Just as soon as he had finished that thought, the lightning struck about 100 feet away from the house. The thunder cracked fiercely, and in the instant of the lightning ' s flash, he caught a glimpse of an outline of a man out in the yard, silhouetted against the lightning. A pair of cold, crimson eyes shone brightly and gazed down into the soul of the detective.

Once again, Death ' s Head had appeared, and disappeared along with the lightning. Also with the lightning went the cool bravado of the detective. All of the detective ' s fear welled up within his throat, his entire body became tense, and he knew that he had just taken his last breath.

The lightning quickly lashed out again, this time 50 feet away from the house. In that instant the detective could be seen lying on the floor, with blood slowly creeping from a deep, yet perfectly measured slit across his neck. The curse had claimed its final victim...

" June 8, 1997

To any man that may find me here in my final respite:

' Tis in this gothic gateway to dark death that I sit and await my final moments, and my deliverer unto the fate of that which is Beyond. Yes, it is an ancient, inherited curse laid upon the house ' s very foundation. This house is cursed from the basement to the chimney ' s tip, and remains so until the end of time because of bloody evils which I did not personally commit. Even upon the family lineage has the curse been placed. It has finally been handed down to me, like unto a form of spiritual collateral issue.

I yet carry those stains, those century - old aftereffects of evil oppression, inherited by way of my bloodline. Every man shall meet his fate as it is given to him, and it is this that I do finally accept. I shall, however, continue my spiritual longsuffering, and try my hand at peace in those greater realms of the soul.

However, I pray that ye gentle yet unfortunate visitor would not meet the same fate as I, but that ye would leave as you came and seek out your own fate. I beseech you to tarry here no longer than needs be, in order that the anomalous spirits that rule this accursed gateway to darkest death wouldst still allow you to yet walk away with your breath and life. Take only your memory of this place with you, and pray that my soul would find the eternal peace that it has been so longing for, outside of this cursed body and this wretched estate.

And now, I, for what I know shall be my last moments on this plane of existence, shall go into death with calm expectation. I await he who has conquered in death and written in blood. "

A Story Based On Paranormal Activity

In the very recent days, the realizing of ghosts has not been removed basically. Though frequent people believe that there are no ghosts at all, but in some of the places in plentiful countries have different shocking news and consideration that they ' ve passed on ad have gone through. Through the total life span, crowded organizations had a paranormal wandering to get some information on those unexpected occurrences, but most of them fail to receive any update after the occurrences. There remains much history about the stories. Let me tell you about my own story about my own paranormal travel. Once I was in my vacation and went to my village to lass some pleasure and enjoying moments with my relatives staying over there. The day after I went there, I saw a gathering on the other side of my house. There was a poor cottage settled there and a small family was living there. I went there to know what had happened. The villagers told me that they are often disturbed by some ladies in the midnight. The ladies were told to wear white dresses and they didn ' t show their faces. The villagers even said that they knock their home door and windows every night. The family became too much frightened about. They used to pass days like this for months. They had also even informed polices but the police itself also didn ' t find any solution about the mystery. There are rumors spread about the ladies that the ladies were murdered in that very small cottage decades ago. This shocking story turned everyone ' s attention in the village. There was a small vegetable garden just beside that poor cottage. The cottage livers said that the time they went to open the door, they saw something moving in that garden. They believed that the ghosts hid in that vegetable garden. Hearing this, the police also did clear the vegetable garden but though they even didn ' t get any proves for the existence of ghost ladies there. There was no evidence found on the existence of those ghost ladies at all. Some of the villagers also said that they heard noises made out in that vegetable garden a lot times. This made the story much shocking. The poor family had to leave that home. Like this story, there are lots of phenomenon occurring. If you make a successful paranormal travel, you ' ll be able to get many curious phenomenon about ghosts.

More information about paranormal travel, please visit paranormal experience. >.

A Mesothelioma Survivor ' s Story - bonnie Anderson

Bonnie graduated from college with a paired degree in Elementary Education and Library Science in the bit 1974 but could not find a teaching undertaking being the Vietnam War had caused low enrollment in primary schools. At the corresponding time, a local oil refinery brainy advertised venture opportunities for mechanics and Bonnie handy for the venture.

Spring chicken was eventually hired and became one of the first female industrial electricians in New Woolly.

Spring chicken worked for around twelve years in the industry before baby doll eventually got now a middle school librarian, which was in line with her initial love of working in a teaching environment.

Early in 2001, Bonnie began to strife severe belly heartache, diarrhea and other general symptoms. These were treated because irritable bowel syndrome. Treatment, which included rejecting - spasmodics and worry medication, proved futile. Tomboy underwent abundant tests: garnet sweat, gynecological scutwork - ups, a scope of her bladder, both higher and lower Battler colonoscopy and endoscopy.

Closest performing the final, her gastroenterologist suggested exploratory surgery, but the surgeon inferring it superfluous. A barium enema followed by an Mush - ray also unfurled zilch.

Her primary physician referred her to greater gastroenterologist, who ordered a CAT inspect. The doctor noted some abnormal streaking on the scan, but other than suggesting a possible relationship to a complete hysterectomy Bonnie underwent in 1988, he couldn ' t ordain its effect.

Finally, in December of 2001 Bonnie developed ascites which is fortuitous liquor build up in the belly. Other CAT scour was ordered, and her gastroenterologist attempted to filter the liquor. Bonnie constitute the procedure terrifically stiff and the practical had to ultimate it before he was able to withdraw all of the liquor. Tests taken from the extract did not explain sector cancer cells. But Bonnie was still in grief, and described the pressure for " repulsive " and " unreal. "

In February of 2002, her gastroenterologist sent her to a surgeon for a laparoscopy. The surgeon removed 6 liters of secretion and was able to see what he described whereas indoor - outdoor carpet spread all over the lining of the paunch. Before Bonnie lone the OR, he asked the hospital ' s pathology department to confirm that he was indeed peep what he suspected to be mesothelioma. Pathology confirmed his assessment. Though he had been in practice for countless years, the surgeon confessed had never pragmatic mesothelioma before, drop in a textbook.

When Bonnie woke up, filly and her maintain John hackneyed the news. Since they had never heard of mesothelioma, exclusive the word " cancer " registered.

Though the process of arriving at the correct diagnosis had been so long and difficult, Bonnie ' s story then took a serendipitous turn, one that quite possibly saved her many months of searching before arriving at an effective treatment.

Her surgeon ' s partner had done his residency under Dr. John Chabot and he immediately gave Bonnie a direct recommendation to a team currently at the forefront of research and treatment for peritoneal mesothelioma, the team of pathologist and MARF Science Advisory Board Member Dr. Robert Taub and his treatment partner, surgeon John Chabot, both of Columbia Presbyterian in New York City. Dr. Taub visited Bonnie immediately, while she was still in the hospital seeing Dr. Chabot.

Later Bonnie saw Dr. Taub at Columbia Pres, and from slides acquired during the laparoscopy, Dr. Taub identified her mesothelioma cells as both epithelial and sarcomatoid. He informed her that generally, epithelial cells are less aggressive and grow on the outside of the peritoneal lining and organs. Sarcomatoid cells, he said, are woven throughout the lining like thread through a fabric. They are more aggressive, and usually considered to be inoperable. But because Bonnie had a mixture of the two types of cells, the team decided to try surgery.

At this point, in order to comply with her insurance plan ' s coverage, Bonnie sought treatment within her home state of New Jersey and saw two oncologists there. The physician considered to be the top oncologist in NJ informed Bonnie that his treatment plan would consist of one operation followed by chemotherapy with doxyrubicin.

With her investigative spirit Bonnie quickly discovered that patients treated in this program showed an 18 percent chance of surviving for five years. She also learned that doxyrubicin was an older medicine, introduced and tested fifteen years previously. Surely, she thought, there existed better, more current treatment than this.

She returned to Dr. Taub ' s protocol and the multimodal approach, which was reporting an approximately 35 % four - year survival rate for those who successfully underwent treatment.

From Bonnie ' s insurance provider, Dr. Chabot got pre - certification to perform surgery on April 2, 2002. Prior to surgery she was feeling very apprehensive, and got the names of two other patients who had successfully undergone the same aggressive protocol with Drs. Taub and Chabot. During the initial surgery Dr. Chabot found no mesothelioma on her organs and no large masses, though little tumors were spread all over the lining of her abdomen like shotgun pellets. He also found that the cancer was not as advanced as the team had previously thought, so Bonnie ' s surgery took only one and one - half hours.

Dr. Chabot scraped out as much as he could of what he could of the visible tumor, removed Bonnie ' s omentum and installed the ports used to administer chemotherapy. While healing and waiting for the staples to be removed, Bonnie joked and kept her inquisitive attitude. " I have no idea what to expect minute to minute, " she said. " I feel like I ' m in Star Trek, going where I have never gone before. "

Meanwhile, Dr. Taub had obtained the HMO ' s permission to begin chemotherapy. Bonnie began the first of eight sessions of a three week cycle: the first week receiving treatment for two days; the second week, treatment for three days; and the third week off. The three - week sessions consisted of Doxorubicin one week alternating with Cisplatin plus Gemcitabine the next. " You ' re just about feeling fairly decent when you had to start over again, " Bonnie remembers.

When the sessions ended six months later, she began four weeks of gamma interferon, once per week.

At this point, right in the middle of receiving the treatment she and her doctors believed could save her life, Bonnie faced another enormous obstacle. Her insurance provider once more informed her they would not provide coverage outside of New Jersey. Bonnie ' s treatment with Dr. Taub had to be stopped. Again she considered the statistics she had been given: 18 % survival rate versus 35 % with Dr. Taub ' s second clinical trial. Of course, there was only one choice.

Bonnie, her husband, and her daughter Darcy mounted a " major campaign " to get the coverage she needed to complete Dr. Taub ' s protocol. They contacted their senators, congress - people, the governor ' s office, the Department of Banking and Insurance and every federal and state agency or advocacy group they could turn up. At last they found someone at the Department of Health and Senior services who would help arm them with the resources to convince the insurance company to cover Bonnie ' s case.

After directing letters, documentation, and phone calls from both Dr. Taub and her own primary physician to the insurance company, Bonnie arrived at a pivotal moment. She spoke in a conference call directly with a director and the appeals board of the insurance company. She told them if they didn ' t allow her to continue treatment at Columbia Pres, she was going to die. The appeals board said they would " take her case into consideration. " Bonnie was shocked when she received their written determination: denied.

For three or four weeks she was in a panic, but still did not give up. Finally, Dr. Taub got in contact with the state - level director and was able to convince the company that all of the components of his clinical trial had already been tested; the only experimental element was that he had put the pieces together. At last the company acquiesced, agreeing to cover treatment partially at first, then completely with just a co - pay. Ecstatic, Bonnie was completely back in the protocol. She finished the cycles of chemotherapy, completing them in August, 2002.

Bonnie underwent the second surgery of the protocol in October of 2002. Dr. Chabot ' s observation indicated that everything looked well. He removed the ports and obtained four random biopsies. Of these, two showed no cancer cells, while two did. The surgeon was hopeful that the hot chemo belly wash would have flushed these two out. It wasn ' t until January that Bonnie was sufficiently recovered from the surgery to begin radiation. After five and a half weeks of radiation, Bonnie broke out in a rash that no one could identify and halted the treatment temporarily. She finished radiation in the beginning of March, 2003, and Drs. Taub and Chabot consider her to be in the 43 % of those who will survive after completing the 2nd stage clinical trial.

Six months since she finished the protocol, Bonnie says she feels 100 % better than she did a year ago. In April of 2003 she returned to her position as a middle school librarian and will be working again regularly this fall. " It feels so good to be back to work because I love what I do, " Bonnie says. " I like to multi - task, I love to teach, and of course, I like research. " Later this fall she is looking forward to returning to the other thing she loves to do: ride her quarter horse, T. J. She still gets fatigued easily, and she can ' t take the heat or the sun. But she says her energy is returning and her weight, which was down to 105 pounds during chemotherapy, has stabilized at 145.

Every three months she returns to Columbia Pres for a CAT scan, PET scan and blood work. In July 2003, her treatment team detected two activity spots in her abdomen, but other than that, no change or growth was visible.

Recently, in September of 2003, Bonnie attended the Race to Remember, a four - mile timed run or walk held in Mercer County Park, West Windsor, NJ. The event commemorates mesothelioma victim John Zipper and all others who have struggled or are struggling against mesothelioma, and raises funds for mesothelioma research.

Bonnie worked in the registration tent and made many wonderful memories of the event and of the people she met, including John Zipper ' s widow Karen and son Dan, the Race ' s creators.

" It was so terrific! " Bonnie says. " I got to shoot off the starting horn and I met the nicest people. It was a beautiful day. " Right now, Bonnie affirms that " Life is wonderful! " She encourages other mesothelioma patients to believe that every minute is worth fighting for, and when facing treatment, to adopt a " Just do it! attitude. "

" That ' s the way I ' ve always lived my life, " Bonnie says, and from the evidence, that is likely the way she will keep living for years to come.

A BOOK REVIEW OF KEKI N DARUWALLA`S THE SCARECROW AND THE GHOST

REVIEW

THE SCARECROW AND THE GHOST; KEKI N DARUWALLA, RUPA & CO. NEW DELHI, 2004,

Keki N Daruwalla is one of the most celebrated and the most valuable poets of latest Indian English literature. The Sahitya Academy Award conferred on him in the instant of 1980 for his collection of poems patrician - The Steward of the Interminable '. Further he has and been ownered with the Commonwealth Poetry Prize for Asia in the chronology of 1987 for his major collection of poetry named - Landscapes '. Both of these prestigious awards are the evident of the truth that Keki N Daruwalla is an noted litterateur of his age and his writings reverberate the real human life and its relations with man, grungy and nature. This poet has nine volumes of short - stories including a novel to his credit. He is besides an slaving reviewer of books, especially poetry. His poetry appeared in several anthologies, both in India and abroad. The penguin Books has further published his - Collected Poems ' during the turn of 2006.

- The Scarecrow and the Ghost ' is an spare anthology of great importance written by Keki N Daruwalla. This collection of poems is published by Rupa and Company, 1 / 16 Ansari Road, Darya Ganj, New Delhi, during the instant of 2004. The book is divided into three parts - - The scarecrow and the Seasons ', - The scarecrow and the Owl ' and - A Ghost Story '. Basically the poems of this collection are written for children but the poems are equally of value and profitable for adults also. Being these poems introduce the readers to the grand world of nature and animals. The poems are absolutely witty and further thoughtful considering it opens the various moods and trends of human behaviours to the readers. In detail it is singular for a poet of stature of Keki N Daruwalla to again pen material for children.

The poems of this collection limelight on an unique scarecrow that is totally sensitive to the world around him, unfluctuating at the time when he is watching on the bird - traffic, monkeys and porcupines. The readers can see the entire nature and the changing of its various moods and seasons from the point of view of the scarecrow. The language of the collection is quite capable to brought alive the whole nature in a simple yet artful and humorous manner. In this regard, Amita Malik, a noted literary figure, opines that his style of narration and exquisite control over language makes each story a literary delight ( The Sunday Statesman ).

In the opening lines of the collection some basic questions about the nature always bother the scarecrow, for example, how the seasons come and go, but the ways of the seasons are not known by him. The scarecrow feels that these questions should be known by him. In order to find out the answers of these questions he bolts his upper storey ' s doors and wonders:

Then he wonders why on earth His head goes round in circles for. While seasons circle round and round Like oxen on a threshing floor. 1

Daruwalla gives a beautiful and lively description of different seasons through the eyes of the scarecrow. See how beautiful and accurate portration of Autumn is given in the following lines:

The stubborn mule headed trees Will not go off their leaves! The mango, once generous with fruit, Becomes an absolute brute, And as if it ' s a matter of pride Will part with one leaf a night. 2

The relation of man and animal is very beautifully depicted by the poet through the scarecrow in the following lines:

When the wheat is young the monkeys come

x x x

The scarecrow has a hard time knowing one from the other, the noisy monkeys chased by their noisier human brothers. 3

In the second part of the book - The scarecrow and the Owl ', the scarecrow is the symbol of common man and the owl denotes the poet community of the society. In this section, poet narrates that the whole night the owl dictated his story to discover at dawn, but the scarecrow had not a pencil. The owl hooted the whole night like a flour mill or like a rice mill at the edge of the village and during the day the owl slept and dreamed that he was a poet. In this way, the owl entire night spoke to the night and to the scarecrow but the scarecrow felt boring and angry because it was not his duty to hear the owl. Rather there were better things to do for him, for instance, he can sleep in the night because he had a long day to keeping off the crows:

The entire night The night owl Spoke to the night. The whole night the night owl Spoke to the scarecrow. He was bored and angry For it was no part of his duties To give a hearing to the owl There were better things to do; Sleep, for instance; And he had had a long a day Keeping off the crows. 4

At last the night owl was so bitter that his tongue is developed a blister. He then took his complaint against the herons to the the then Prime Minister, V. P. Singh who did not bother and rejected his application:

But V. P. Singh Though he spoke the same language and was a man of masses returned the application saying - I only deal With the back ward classes. 5

It is a great satire on the cunningness, hypocrisy and dual ness of political persons or man of masses. He also aimed at Balasaheb Thackery, his Shiv Sena, Kar Sewaks etc. Keki N Daruwalla targets not only the living style of common man or the learned society but also to the so called gentleness and softness of the modern society:

Be very, very careful! There are many dangers: There are foxes, there are cats There are pine martens And there are bats And during the day Men are around, and nasty boys Who have catapults for toys. The chicks asked - when can we be careless? - 6

In the third and the last part of the book - A Ghost Story ', the poet depicts an another story that involves the ghost and the poachers who wanted kill the deer and the scarecrow at the night. The villagers were quite poor at poaching and as such they telegraphed straightly to Veerapan requesting him to grant the coaching, as they were in great need of it:

And cursed their luck cursed the ghost, Realized they were poor at poaching. They telegraphed Veerapan straight: - Respected saar, we need some coaching! ' 7

Are the poachers confounded at the end? That is the real thriller.

The collection of poems The Scarecrow and the Ghost is of 48 pages widely acclaimed volume of poetry written by the most celebrated and admired literary figure Keki n Daruwalla. The price of the book is Rs. 195. 00 only. Beautiful and accurate illustrations by Pulak Biswas contribute a lot to the greatness of the book.

References

1. Daruwalla, Keki N, The Scarecrow and the Ghost, Rupa and Co., 2004, p 06. 2. Daruwalla, Keki N, The Scarecrow and the Ghost, Rupa and Co., 2004, p 15. 3. Daruwalla, Keki N, The Scarecrow and the Ghost, Rupa and Co., 2004, p 16. 4. Daruwalla, Keki N, The Scarecrow and the Ghost, Rupa and Co., 2004, p 22. 5. Daruwalla, Keki N, The Scarecrow and the Ghost, Rupa and Co., 2004, p 25. 6. Daruwalla, Keki N, The Scarecrow and the Ghost, Rupa and Co., 2004, p 31. 7. Daruwalla, Keki N, The Scarecrow and the Ghost, Rupa and Co., 2004, p 48.

A Story Marvelous High - tech Bear Hunting Log

You know, the finest element about a hunting diary is undoubtedly the understanding to takings a look back and and recall hunts, and utterly scene images affiliated together with your own hunts by incorporating them to that alike hunt data files in a superb clean carton. Totally precise more choicest would be the means to check out lump of your indifferent hunting illumination and bagged amusement results in pre - made charts and unbroken graphs over a term of time, add a scale of seasons or more, to seize what ' s getting the undertaking done and what ' s not. Our fish and diversion divisions conduct this on a mass consistent, why shouldn ' t we all do it for our personal hunts? I could merely envisage how it would strengthen our hunts...

That ' s precisely why I decided to buy the Hunter ' s iJournal. Subsequent reading through the introduction guide book, I had to own it... This tool allowed me to examine and contrast information that I ' ve gathered about my past hunting experiences then graph it to search the data in easily understood terms. You can obtain this software package at the huntersijournal. com.

A hunting journal is great, but how about discovering something from your old hunting records? For those that never take a hunting record, then now is the time. You can even enter older facts from previous years inside the Hunter ' s iJournal to bring it all back to reality. How? Well, I just re - chart and graphed all of my old hunting data as I possibly could into my hunters iJournal and when I got finished, the results were ready - made records that I don ' t have to touch. It was incredible! This extremely affordable tool brought to life my past hunting dates that was not formerly easily comprehended or even assimilated. Although I see fine stories, but now I can actually discover valuable data from them.

The additional great aspect about the hunter ' s ijournal is I can thoroughly manage the way I layout my seasons, and it ' s all quite simple to use. Example: You could document large game hunts, varmint hunts, waterfowl ( duck hunts ) and upland game hunts and it ' s even versatile enough to log unforgettable single day hunts that will be rather worthwhile in ones life, such as a great " African Large Game Hunt " exhibition. You get the concept, but why merely let the events wash away in your ever fading memory when you can now document them? I can ' t begin to tell you precisely how gratifying this tool actually is... Heck, I ' m also logging my fishing excursions as well!

Right after placing all my personal common hunt records straight into the hunter ' s ijournal, I can certainly share my hunts on Twitter or with electronic mail with the easy simply click of a button. The actual software is so brilliantly constructed, it was a breeze to incorporate with my iPhone. I like to send e mail just after a superb hunt to my mates who ditched me for less important tasks, like work! I put the hunt results into the hunter ' s ijournal while I ' m resting in my truck just before I leave the region, then hit send! actually if I am presently out of cellular range the e mail just queues out and sends every time I get inside mobile service. My photos and details are quickly formatted for email, or even for my Myspace account.

To receive extra detail about how the hunters ijournal functions, they have a information introduction manual offered via request on the hunter ' s ijournal web site. You will be able to track down the hunters ijournal over at the apple iTunes appstore by scouting for " Hunter ' s iJournal ". I hope you enjoyed my product assessment, I couldn ' t help but to express to each and every one of my buddies about it... Dam, I love this thing!

A Little Story About Lombok

The most famous place in Indonesia which is always crowded by foreign tourists is Bali. Midpoint everyone in the world know Bali and ( believe it or not ), plentiful people see that Bali is the solitary sitting target destination in Indonesia.

This is certainly not true. From day to pace, Indonesia has developed more and more pigeon attractions. One of the destination that has also been confessed since so innumerable years ago is the Borobudur altar and Yogyakarta, the nearby city. And, likewise destination that have started popularized by the restriction of Indonesia is the island of Lombok. The last few years the island has further current to frequently visited by foreign tourists.

Lombok Island is an island that is located legitimate next to Bali Island ( on the east side ). So do not be surprised if Lombok has a culture and natural beauty that is similar to the island of Bali. The difference maybe only one, Lombok has not been touched by so many people. Many of the land and natural environment in Lombok is pristine. This is the advantage of Lombok.

One of the beaches which became the favorite of tourists who visited the island of Lombok is Tanjung Aan Bay Beach. This place has a very spectacular beaches. The color of the sand on the beaches are very white. This is very contrast with the gradient blue sea water. The beach here is surrounded by mountains and its location is very remote. The atmosphere here is very calm.

From a high place in Tanjung Aan Bay Beach you can take a look at the white sand, crashing waves, rows of palm trees and beautiful hills down there. What is also unique, there is a hill that resembled a turtle when viewed from a height.

Tanjung Aan Beach Bay visited by many people who want to do water sports, like swimming and snorkeling. There are also many tourists who come to fish and quite a lot of family coming too, just to sit relax by the sea.

Another fascinating place in Lombok is the 3 Gili Islands. Why is it called so? Because these group of island of Lombok has a 3 pieces of island that contain the word " Gili ". They are Gili Air, Gili Trawangan and Gili Meno.

The three islands are situated adjacent to each other in the northwest island of Lombok. The closest one to Lombok is Gili Air. After that Gili Meno, which is famous for having a large collection of rare birds from Indonesia and foreign countries.

Gili Trawangan Island is the most popular island among the three island. Facilities for tourists, such as small inns and restaurants is the most widely built here. The view in this small island is very beautiful, spectacular beaches with sparkling white sands. Most of the visitors are foreign tourists.

In addition to marine tourism, other tourist attractions on the island of Lombok is a mountain. If you or your family love mountain tours, you can have a visit to Mount Rinjani Tourism Park. The mountain is about 3, 740 meters height and has a national park covering approximately 40, 000 hectares.

Mount Rinjani is also famous for its giant volcanic crater measuring about 10 km wide. In the middle of the crater there is the lake that is named Segara Anak. The water that flows from this lake forms a very beautiful waterfall, flowing through a very steep cliff. In this lake there are a lot of carp and tilapia. No wonder if theres quite a lot of people who come here for fishing.

In addition to these objects, of course, Lombok still has many more advantages in tourism. Crafts, unique traditional houses, not to mention Cidomo, the traditional vehicles. For those of you who want to visit Lombok, theres no need to worry about accommodation. Many major international hotel chains are now opened in Lombok.

A Short Story, Jeffery ' s Guilty Pleasure

Jeffery, undeclared the dynamics of an affair exterior of the nuptial constant before he asked the rangy, slender, long, legged, winsomeness, for her telephone quantity. He knew, he was unsubstantial, he knew, it would cost him. He knew he was headed for concern.

Jeffery had been at this door before, but had never gone through. Neighboring four years of an partly lifeless conjugal, he was ready for some movement. Sure, there was lovemaking every other month, his wife, flat on her back, him on top, a few symbols of life, in consequence it was over. A shower for her, for to sleep. No foreplay, no extra side treats, straight, duplicate aged lovemaking position. Jeffery wanted more!

Perhaps a little, guilty pleasure, might be OK, Jeffery understanding to himself. It wasn ' t like he planned it. He just allowed it. He did fly speck to control the actions which would ultimately destroy his family.

After the first child was born, in his marriage, he, had decided to give his wife more time, to come around to his way of thinking. Then it was approaching the creation of a second child, and Jeffery still felt a need to be touched in ways which his wife, had seemingly forgotten.

He had felt cheated. He had expressed his concerns before they were married. He had explained to her that lovemaking was an important part of the relationship for him. She had assured him, that he didn ' t have to worry. Did she lie? Or did having a child decrease his wife ' s desire for lovemaking?

Jeffery was tired of thinking about it. Begging was not his style, baby or no baby. An affair had to be the answer.

Gena, his blue, eyed brunette was the diversion which created the guilty pleasure. ( This month ' s lovemaking tip: ) The lovemaking was unbelievably hot, from his toes to the top of his head. Gena had a way, of breaking a man down, slowly and deliberately. She made love like it was some kind of cooking receipt. " When man is relaxed, then excite him passionately, then cool him down, only to excite him again, in a different way. "

By the time Jeffery tried to slow and cool the affair, it was too late. Gena was on his mind and in his heart. It would be several years later that he would learn that his blue, eyed, brunette, had started the relationship with every intent on breaking up his marriage. She had, in her mind, replaced his wife, the first time they had a sexual encounter.

Three years later, after a nasty divorce, during the time his wife was pregnant with their second child, Jeffery finally understood. Because the affair was that of guilty pleasure, it had been excessively hot. Now that the same relationship was older and no longer forbidden, it too, was experiencing lack! Where was the passion, which he experienced when he first met his long, legged, mistress? Had deceit replaced the pleasure?

It took a while, but Jeffery felt guilty for robbing the mother of his two children of her right " not " to be the third person, in a mental threesome. And because of the guilt, the new relationship was in trouble too.

Jeffery was not sure of what to do. He didn ' t know how to make it right and he didn ' t want to return to his marriage. His current relationship offered little and the only people in the world whom he trusted were his two children.

Fortunately for him, his career and stayed in tack while his life had taken a roller coaster ride. Perhaps he would now concentrate on his work and his kids. His thoughts just did not deliver a solution which he felt comfortable with. Perhaps in time, love would revisit him.

A STORY ABOUT DEBTS AND CREDITS

John 1: 14 - We have pragmatic his glory, glory - full of grace and truth. '

With the Golden Son episode, Israel has done irreparable damage to their relationship with God. Can unsuitable credit ever be repaired? Can it ever be like it was before?

God is calling off the nuptial with Israel but Moses, the - best confrere ' of the groom takes upon Himself to intercede and repair the relations between the two parties. He throws every argument on the nutrition; trifle is terrifically small nor overmuch great to just now to the God of Heaven. Again we see mortal man bargaining with the Eternal God like a mere merchant would on the market place.

God desists from going with Israel to the Promised Land. He will send them there thus making good on His promises to the fathers, but He will send an - Angel ' in His place. A plague also afflicts those who participated in the idolatrous orgy ( Exodus 32: 24 - 25; 33: 1 - 6 ).

Moses initiates - talks ' with the Creator. As He does, all Israel stands at attention and worship; It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God ( Exodus 33: 7 - 10; Hebrews 10: 31 ). The negotiations begin. They will go on for forty days, during which Moses fasts. On what seems to be the fortieth day, Moses opens his mouth using a new strategy. He had formerly appealed to the righteousness of the patriarchs as leverage ( Exodus 32: 13 ). He now noticed that since the dire event, God has quit referring to Israel as - His people '. Suddenly they became - Moses ' people '. This resembles a mother and father arguing about the ownership of their kids according to their attitude. Moses also noticed that God mentioned - favor ' towards him. The Hebrew word is - chen ', usually translated as - grace '. ( Exodus 33: 12 - 17 ).

Moses is mortal man. He is a man of flesh and blood; a sinful man raised in Diaspora Egypt. He himself committed unrecoverable grave mistakes ( Deuteronomy 31: 2 ). Yet, Moses was a man who was able to accumulate grace and righteousness credit to be used to - cover ' for Israel. This grace seems to have very little to do with personal - goodness ', but everything to do with a free gift from God. Even the Master while on earth couldn ' t claim goodness, but He had the grace of the Father upon Him ( Matthew 19: 17 ). Sin is like debt, and righteousness like credit ( Matthew 6: 12 ). From the favor he had with God, Moses had enough available credit to - cover ' for Israel ' s debt. Thus Moses was called the first - redeemer ', showing us what Messiah, the second - righteous ' redeemer would do for the world.

Moses could appeal to the virtue of mortals such as the former patriarchs. He could also add his own mortal virtue on the bargaining table. Universal redemption has always been by virtue of a remnant, or a first fruit representing the whole.

As we dedicate our lives to Him, by the Virtue the Master vested in us, may we also live in such manner as to accumulate grace and favor to - cover ' those we love and care for.

A Story About A Book Called My Life

My life is unraveled to me, like a page in a book. Sometimes I skip paragraphs, peek at the next chapter, " call out " the next function. This is the type of book with convoluted and option endings. If I try and skip ahead, curious to see what will happen, I find options because to setting I can and / or devoir go to next. I am unable to simply enjoy the pages back.

However I interpret the book, calm though I may find myself at my original page, or sometimes further back than I was, I am unable to turn back the pages.

I have a habit of being impatient, literally jumping like a little child who sees the fountain grasp his / her favorite candy from afar. It is a bad habit in my world, due to I make hasty and final decisions, not to mention believe in plunging head on and crack to swim attached.

I scan the pages and try to be attentive, but I further have a humongous and colorful imagination. My brain likes to process fifteen things and diddly at all at the twin time, duration playing a home - made movie complete with a soundtrack to stack me company all day long. This all takes place stretch I am doing what I am supposed to do in my daily life, including carrying out active conversations with others.

I scrutinize people bushy-tailed, and mentally repeat them in a few short toilet paper, allocating active listening space to them based on initial and enterprising sensitive of the people and situations I meet. You would feel I would be highly successful by now, I do have an amazing brain, I guess my irascibility has gotten in my way.

Unbeknownst to me, my bad habit Ire went off and married enhanced one of my estranged habits residing in my brain, - Right.

I guess - Longing was lone being s / he refused to commit to a person or thing on my sake, preferring to be " escaped and free like a bird ", since though I know how birds observe. Vigorous, virgin and free is my motto and sometime I find myself highly frustrated by these alternatives being offered when I skip parts of this book, because I search for the Next Best Element.

It needs to be Next and the Best, for each anything I have sought and overthrown was supreme. In my colorful world, I have done plentiful strange things. I have always cogitation I should have lived with insane superstars. In moments of self - pity and martyr, I find myself thankful in the education that with each unbelievable roller coaster ride I embark on, that there is one if not two close family members or friends aware of what I am doing.

Each witness is apart and companionless from the Next and each roller - coaster plunge unrelated from the Last so an exchange of notes will not come about. S / he may be questioning my mental frame of understanding at all times, but I figure it should make for an interesting funeral if scratch spare.

Everyone and No one knows all my sides. I am good at being a expressive contradiction, most visible to myself. My words have always been my armor, I extract exact responses. If it is spur bumps I try, I get them, if it is an audience, I command it, if it is silence, there we go.

So I am reading this book that by and large Makes sense and is Silliness, turn severe to peek at the next pages or all told skip mammoth chunks of paragraphs. Much like the people and situations I have made a life - long habit of studying, I have summarized my existence and whyfor in less than 500 words. It is a great two paragraphs and a very bleak one. I see stars and heaven in my visual, for together for a never - ending dry solitude.

I know that it is much more than my ego, this thought that my first and last name is a great one, that I am a great one, and can do all things. I also know I am working on my Last eighth life, I am the cat that fell from the roof of the building and into the pool. There is no ninth life for that one.

I see myself drown and I flip the pages in an effort to get to a part where I come up for air, where I can breath. My world is very colorful. I roam an endless desert on tired worn feet, but I am also drowning and the sea is an endless dark and angry vortex.

I am enjoying and not, this book my fingers are destined to thumb through, though I now desire to borrow my neighbor ' s, or ask for a quick trade for a few minutes. I am running out of nails and cheeks that belong to me to bite into.

Vices are becoming a little too expensive for me not to notice that they have moved in. Its funny and not that the characters in my world are causing a riot with their fun, when all I see is the riot.

My chief regulator, Ms Seriousness tells me to chalk down my great visions to a pleasant dream. It says I need to keep flipping the pages and get to the end already, what again did I think of me? I keep thinking as I flip through the pages of this book my fingers are stuck to, that that part of me must be right, for I am not liking what I see. But what I can ' t shake, is what I Believe.

My fingers are getting tired, and I am giving in to the bi - product aka seed of my two companions Impatience & - Commitment, Despair. I am Despairing of my dreams, they are becoming tiring to me. Things I want and the opposite I receive as though prayers that the devil answered.

I keep thinking while looking for reprieve that the world must seriously be bored to pick me as its comic strip. I am the cartoon character in a show that is televised at times when I am asleep, the joke ' s on me. My Greatness is now taunting me as I turn the pages, not caring how I drag the pages, which I tear, which are dog - ear. You ready to be real? I keep hearing, to a tune I can ' t get out of my head.

Yes, I am ready to be real I say, I give up, it was foolish of me to dream this hard and long. You don ' t know any better, Ms Seriousness says, turning my page to a chapter I care not to read the heading of. You have always been strange, thought and felt strange. You have always been a dreamer, always thought people could dream their lives alive. I remember many times when you were young, I had to take that pen and paper away. I remember you staring at people needing help as though you were the saint that was sent. Well, from now on, and to ensure no more pain from this foolishness, I will lead the way. It will not be fun, but at least we will be going straight.

Well, this is definitely not fun no more, Ms Yei! says as we flip through each page. I know what I am doing and why, yet it still doesn ' t make sense. I know I signed a pact to stop being a dreamer, make my book count toward something in the end, but why am I now haunted with ghosts of PastSense.

I used to control my powerful mind, the images and colors my entertainment, when did I lose that. Why is it that the stars and my heavens disappeared, the scorching sun in my desert all I see. The pages I turn are uniform, long, heavy like lead. Despair went off to a high school called Auto - pilot, I fear s / he has no plans to graduate.

Ms Seriousness checks in once in a while to make sure I ' m keeping to my part, reminding me as though I easily forget, what hopes and dreams have done for me so far. Very little makes me cry, but every time Ms Seriousness leaves my head space and Ms Yei! whispers, " I believe in you, I know you are meant to be exactly who you think you are supposed to be. I know it because I see it ", I cry.

I am flipping through these pages, but I am not reading them. I have actively turned to my neighbors now, I help them read their books. Turns out the time I ' ve spent reading and studying people plus my intuition, helps solve a few hundred problems and none.

I wish I could do this all day, my book is suffocating me. I am really hoping that in fact one good turn deserves another, and that someone who can handle me and not go into instant delirium, will come fix my problems, for they are many. What are they? Well, this book I am forced to flip isn ' t mine to begin with, I know it has my name at the front but I swear someone got something wrong somewhere.

I need my requests re - routed, I can ' t be getting the exact opposite of what I ask, or what I ask for in a seriously demented way. I am not feeling the characters in the book, everyone has a problem, I need a better and much more clearer outline at the beginning please. Oh, and finally, take away this beautiful brain and power of words I thought was a blessing. I am not interested in carrying around this ceaseless curse any more.

What is ceaseless about it? Is that Ms Yei! never ceases questioning Ms Seriousness, Ms Seriousness never ceases writing and commanding more decrees for me to follow as punishment, and that I have to accept that my heart and the very essence of me is now slowly, seriously dying.

I have never felt so alone, so thirsty and so tired in this desert called my life. My book is not fun, and my beautiful mind knows that no vice will ever make it better past today. I see scorching sun, sand and grit all day, and a dark cold, bitter wind all night. Ms Yei! moves around in my head, shuffling feet, but for the most part, all stage lights are off, crew has cleared, the show is permanently off.

We are now in October of 2010. I am slowly turning the first page of the next chapter. Since my theatrical companions were forcibly evicted from my beautiful brain and replaced with schedules and vices, I am streaming a radio station.

I did not choose this station, all previous stations refuse to play for whatever strange reason. I am trying not to get livid. It seems that very little starts up my monsters these days. I think while I start to read the first uniform, heavy and untrue sentence in my book, well, what else did we expect.

The sentences read untrue because I am stuck reading this book that my fingers are attached to, but it is not my book! I feel like I have been branded and dressed to play a part I never signed up for, and are getting punished for not acting or pretending to like it any more.

Ms Yei! is gone, Ms Yei! made me smile and believe through anything, now I am just alone, thirsty and tired in this desert that has filled my beautiful brain. I had no idea how expansive my imagination was, just how great I had it, until the sand filled it up, blinding me with the scorching sun ' s reflection.

Alone, because this is me. I am known for good times and problem solving. I also appear invincible, unapproachable and I produce the best PR with my inward appearance. I do not talk if I don ' t want to, my walls are high and heavily guarded. Ms Seriousness told me that I couldn ' t talk, that that and filling peoples ' heads with how great they could be was the foolishness we were trying to avoid.

I could not turn to my neighbor and say: I am drowning fast, I am also dying of thirst ( should I swallow the water? ), and my joy was taken from me, because I could never make any of my dreams come true, so I chose not to believe, so my joy was taken from me, because I gave it up in order not to bleed. I can ' t take any more of my heart ' s bleed. It is killing me, for the first time in this book called my life, I fear it is going to win.

So I turn on the radio station that is not my first choice, and wait for the next page as I finish off the last sentence on the first. The music in the station has stopped, there is silence, and a clip is played.

The voice repeats this over and over again, " God did not give up on You, You gave up on You. You gave up on yourself and your dreams, You did that. God did not give up on you. "

The pages on the book called my life hastily flip back as though blown by the wind, and the PagesPast start to tear and float up and around me, carried in a circular wind. My incredible imagination is filled with photo albums, words, songs, phrases, home - made movies, faces... I start to see it, I look up at the heavens that have replaced my scorching sun with all these things laid out, and I start to see it.

I start to see how many times and ways Ms Yei! tried to nudge me in my night dreams and day " coincidences ", how many fresh starts I was given that I bitterly misunderstood and cursed at.

I see all the pages, paragraphs and sections I missed, lessons I should have learned. I see the truth of what I thought were my friends, which were the values residing in my beautiful brain, that I allowed to control my Regulating machine, hence accepted when they said they were for me, that they were.

NegativeCommitment is the reason I lost my loves and opportunities, the reason I judged and abandoned so many worthy people, the reason I allowed Stubborn to come in and reside. Impatience helped push Ms Yei! to the back of my beautiful brain, for I was too impatient, self - centered yet practiced egotistical pitying, to read her nudges, decipher her codes, heed her recurring thoughts and dreams.

Despair fed Ms Seriousness, born of Ego, and chief childhood defender, so that she took her role to prevent me from further hurt a little too seriously. She grew in monstrosity but not wisdom, for childhood fears do not grow alongside us, they are born and kept in ignorance, hence Darkness.

I allowed an immature part of my beautiful imagination to take control of me, and define me. Well, why wouldn ' t that happen? I have an army of " me ' s " working for me, a self - regulatory body that is geared to the fulfillment of me and me things. I gave up my colorful world, my God - given talents, my possible Great Imagination and Power of Words for that!!!!???????

My life is unraveled to me, like a page in a book. My desert dried up, I only noticed it was gone. My heart found its home, it sits happily nestled and held in trust. I feel like the cat that fell off the roof of a building, and into a pool, sitting and purring on my owner ' s window ledge, all lives intact.

My imagination is running, I am having the time of my life trying to catch up with it. My beautiful brain sees more colors and things than it ever did before, and my words move people I will never meet. Every word in this book called my life is important. I have been given a fresh new pair of eyes.

I am reading the best book I have ever written in my life, and all because He never once gave up on me, not even when I made the conscious decision to give up what was freely given to me, for what I thought I alone could achieve, and when that failed, begun to believe less of me.