Don't move. Don't even breathe...

There is a wireless hotspot I couldn't quite lock onto last night but now I have. So I mustn't flinch in case I lose it. Sat in my room by the beach trying to hide from the sun which is really rather hot. Strange that.I haven't taken many pictures yet because it is really a bit too hot to traipse round with a big camera on the off chance. I will use my little camera to get some scene-setters and then plan some ideas with the big one, perhaps at cooler times of day. Only problem with that is I woke at about 2 a.m. and thought I would open the shutters to let some cool night breeze in, only for it to be almost as hot as the daytime. Strange business.Oh and thanks to the Dutch lady who moved out of the room above me last night. I assume she was Dutch because as she moved each item of clothing one by one from one side of the room to the other I heard her clogs on the floor. No normal shoe could have made that noise !Anyhoo...going to avoid the hottest sun for an hour or two and that probably means finishing off my first book.Laters, if I sit in exactly the same place...Source

All that Glitters....

My July Harper's Bazaar (which by the way I love more and more every month) arrived in the mail today and there on the cover was Gwyenth Paltrow in a black sequin micro-mini dress (that turns out is actually a T-shirt) by Proenza Schouler. It reminded me that sequins, beads, paillettes and all that glitters...is always fashionably.Vintage 80's OLEG CASSINI Bead & Paillete Blouse or Micro Mini Dress w/Batwing Sleeves at Rice and Beans VintageDonna Karan Collection Sequin Tank at NordstromVintage 80's Saks Fifth Avenue Black & Gold Sequin, Bead, & Silk Twin Set, Tank & Jacket at Rice and Beans VintageWomen's Sequin Vest at Old NavyCHANEL Plum Tweed Jacket w/Sequins, 3/4 Sleeves, & CC Silk Lining at Rice and Beans VintageLondon Dress at Tory BurchNew MANOLO BLAHNIK Caldo Zebra Print Sequin Open Toe Mary Janes at Rice and Beans VintageST. JOHN BLACK SANTANA KNIT PAILLETTES EVENING DRESS 8 on eBayVintage early 80's Pierre Cardin Gold & Black Metallic Sweater at Rice and Beans VintageSource

Michael Jackson working on a clothing line with a top designer

Filed under: Celebrity StyleMichael Jackson and Christian Audigier seem to be an unlikely pair. But, the unthinkable has happened and the two are getting together to do a collaboration on a clothing line.Continue reading Michael Jackson working on a clothing line with a top designerPermalink | Email this | CommentsSource

Day 3 of the Detox Plan & Weigh In

Had yet another good day on the Detox plan today. I thought it was going to be hard at lunch time as I had arranged a shopping trip and us to eat out. The nearest to natural food I could get was a Jacket potato & salad with Tuna Mayo. I know I was not allowed the mayo but it was already mixed up, and the thought of a plain potato made me feel sick!Breakfast - Detox Tea, Porridge, Rice Milk, Apple & CinamonLunch - Jacket Potato with salad & Tuna Mayo. GrapesDinner - Veg Stir FrySnack - Nuts & SeedsIt was also my weekly weigh in tonight and I lost just 1/2 pound. I was a bit disappointed with the low loss but again it is a loss. I just need to fight it out with the gym machines more often!Sunday marks the halfway mark for the clothing challenge with hubby and I am not so sure if there has been a difference or not. I have been tempted to try on the trousers again before the halfway date but I have held back. If there is a glimmer of surprise I want it to be on Sunday morning! I'll also have my weekly pictures to do at the same time.Source

Trying To Stay Neutral

Juxtaposed with the season's neon bright hues is the hottest new trend Neutral Accessories. While I love the happy bright colors, I'm also intrigued by the subtle modern neutral tones. Here are my picks to help inspire you to stay neutral. Vintage late 60's GIVENCHY Lizard Leather Neutral Creme Handbag w/Logo at Rice and Beans VintageC2 Elements Sandal at Urban Outfitters 90's STEPHANE KELIAN for 9 West Neutral Light Grey Suede Bootie Heels at Rice and Beans VintageCanvas Pocket Tote at Urban OutfittersVintage 80's SALVATORE FERRAGAMO Oxford Slingback Flats at Rice and Beans VintageIsaac Mizrahi for Target® Drew Open-Shank Ballet Flats - Cream Vintage CHANEL Two Tone Leather Flats w/Cap Toes at Rice and Beans VintageCole-haan Village Lux Tote at Neiman MarcusVintage 60's Raffia & Sparkle Beads Top Handle Frame Handbag at Rice and Beans VintageSource

First Night At The Office.

Well, I started "work" tonight. I got there early (courtesy of the cloud gift) only to discover the majority of my new "workforce" gathered around the coffee machine and brandishing plastic forks (no doubt stolen from the cantine) at each other. Everyone one else decided that they were too sick to come to work tonight or were sprawled across various pieces of office furniture, asleep. Some of them weren't even on desks or chairs. I think there was only one mortal who actually looked like she was working but when I went to introduce myself to her I soon realised that what was being displayed on the computer was neither work nor...clean... Her attention, however, was quickly directed at me soon enough and instead of looking at those websites for the rest of the night she watched me. I made sure not to bend down or do anything else that may have provoked any form of action from her. After the choas around the coffee machine had stopped and everyone had caffine in their system, the atmosphere in the office changed. People actually got to work (with the exception of my newfound stalker) and I was introduced to my assistant, Emma, and the rest of my team. Emma is a very "snooty" woman, for want of a better term, and seems to enjoy making things difficult and bossing others around. Even me, her boss. Physically she is not at all ugly, with Strawberry Blonde hair and Green eyes but her personality soon puts an end to any form of attraction a person might feel for her. The other members of my team were quite a shock. Riccardo and Albinus. If you've ever read Armand's tale, you'd know that two of my apprentices had these names. Not only were the names a shock, so was their physical appearance; Riccardo had Black curly hair with equally Black eyes and this Albinus had Blonde hair and Green eyes. Just like my apprentices. Both wear their hair down to their shoulders, Riccardo is 18 and Albinus is 17 (why are they working here at this age? I would have to put this down to their skill.) Reincarnation, perhaps? Anyway, I was impressed and greatly pleased with my office, which is located opposite that of Emma and the boys. After we had been through all the introductions and had some basic designs for the new clothing line down, Emma, in a rare moment of generosity, offered to get everyone something to eat. Riccardo made sure to place large orders for himself and Albinus, not because he was particularly hungry but because we were all thoroughly sick of the sight of Emma and her snooty remarks. When she asked me what I wanted to eat (what a stupid thing to do! everyone in the office has been briefed on these issues!) I gave her the obvious reply "I can't digest food." She scurried off murmuring the words "skinny prick" under her breath. If she wasn't so stupid, I would have thought that she'd asked me what I wanted to eat out of spite. She's just not that smart. Emma didn't come back until well after lunch, and only came back to complain that my eating habits had "put her off" having lunch. The boys hastily moved their furniture and materials into my office during that lunchtime. Riccardo also went out to make a purchase. He left the diet pills he'd bought on Emma's desk and we hastily barricaded the door to our office. It was during the time we decided to "lay low" that I was paged and we had to leave the Emma-free zone in order to brief everyone on the launch of ~Red Velvet. Luckily Emma didn't show up again, unfortunately my stalker did. Apparantley she is also one of my assistants so, as you can imagine, I'm pleased that her office is nowhere near mine. Riccardo and Albinus seemed uneasy. They should be. My stalker has friends. Friends who like them, very much. But at least they didn't have to sit through a meeting with a crazed woman running her hand up and down their thigh! Inspiration didn't have much time to strike me much today but I did get a few designs on paper; one of them is a dress for Pandora...(sigh) there's a bit of a spill on one because I wasn't concentrating much as I was too busy laughing at Emma's expense with Riccardo and Albinus. Source

The Beginning and the launch of "Red Velvet"

Hello everyone,I've decided to do something artistic once more! As you know, I LOVE Red and I'm never seen without Red Velvet somewhere on my person. Well, these past few months have been very exciting and I daresay I was extremely suprised when approached by a group of mortals who were interested in launching a clothing line with me. As you would expect, I laughed at them and tried to turn them away. They were very persistant and pratically hounded me for weeks but my sometimes pupil (Lestat) finally convinced me to accept their offer. I will not go into much detail about his methods but I can tell you that it was Lestat who was responsible for the mortals approaching me in the first place. Of course, everyone knows that the Brat Prince is up to no good but this time I've decided to indulge him. As you can probably guess from the title of this journal, "Red Velvet" is the name of my new clothing line and I think I'm going to enjoy doing something artistic again even if it is hard for most of you to imagine me as a fashion designer. I understand that most of you will be thinking "WHY is Marius De Romanus on Livejournal?!" I have only one word with which to answer your question; Lestat.Bye for now-Marius.Source

Team Event Kit List

Here’s a quick kit list and a few things to be prepared for, that we pass on to all the racers for the Cotswold Mountain Bike Team. This list is by no means perfect, but it does cover all the basics. Its very easy on these events to take far too much but to still forget the essentails. What you definitely need Mountain bike Lights good enough to ride off road for 2 hours (rear light is not essential) Helmet Cycle clothing (shorts, ss jersey, ls jersey, socks, shoes, gloves) 1-2 spare inner tubes (these can be bought at the event) 1 pump Water bottle or camelbak (way to attach bottle to bike if needed) Warm clothes to hang around in Waterproofs to hang around in Towel and wash kit Head torch for use in and around camp and as a spare (recommended - the cyberlite) Food for 24hrs (there is food available at the events, but what food I don’t know) Tent Sleeping bag Sleeping mat Camping chair (well worth getting one if you haven’t got one already) Pans, kfs etc. Stove + fuel Sudocreme or Vaseline to help with the chaffing What might be useful but not essential Camera Mud guards, front is more important than the back Riding glasses Spare cycle clothing (shorts, ss jersey, ls jersey, socks shoes, gloves) 1 set is enough but if you have 4 sets I would bring them Mud tyres (if we all bring these then it might not rain, sod's law and all that) Race tyres (low rolling resistance, the conti speed kings are good value ) Bottled water (water is available at most events but if you bring bottled less chance of stomach upsets and some events water is not available on site) Spare set of break pads Any bike tools specific to your bike Chain lube + wd40 / gt85 Large communal tent Cleaning bucket and brushes BBQ / raised fire What you will definitely need to be prepared for Energy to ride at least four 10km laps in a 24hour period (the first and last are the easiest, it’s the ones in the middle that hurt). Enthusiasm to ride / push bike in all conditions day or night, it will rain at some point. To prepare for the unexpected, everything and anything seems to happen at these events. Sleeping is a luxury, expect no more that 2-4 hours sleep during the night of the race, you might get the odd hour here and there if you are lucky. Enthusiasm is infectious; if we all keep positive then we will all make it through the event. What’s worth doing to your bike before the race Clean and lube chain Clean / lube gear + brake cables (if you have brake cables) Check brake pads to see you have some braking surface left on them. Make sure handle bar grips are attached securely (a bit of hair spay works well or a couple of zip ties) Check you have all gears working especially the granny ring, don’t worry about the big ring unless you have legs like Lance Armstrong (we can help if you struggle with this, getting the gears working that is not getting legs like Lance) Source

Gods of Manhattan

Originally published at Once Upon A Bookshelf. You can comment here or there.Author: Scott MebusOriginally Published: 2008www.godsofmanhattan.comThirteen year old Rory was happily believing that the world was a completely normal place until the magician Hex played a trick on him that opened his eyes to Mannahatta. Now, he sees strange things everywhere he looks - cockroaches riding on rats, people made of paper mache, as well as people and animals that no one else can see. Rory soon learns that he is a Light - a person who can see the truth, and can make others see the truth of what is really there. Hex is excited about the fact that Rory is a Light - most Lights don’t live more than a few years, so Rory is the oldest one to be found in a Very Long Time. But is Hex just trying to manipulate Rory and take advantage of what he is in order to get what he wants?Mannahatta, the world that Rory can now see, is a world parallel to the real Manhattan. It’s comprised of gods and other spirits - the gods being people in our own world who, after their death, return to Mannahatta because of something they were remembered for in our world. The gods in Mannahatta don’t die, they just fade away when people in our world stop remembering them. Except recently, someone has been murdering these gods.Will Rory’s ability to see the truth help figure out who is murdering these gods? And does he really want to help Hex in his plot?Starting this, I was not completely sure whether I would enjoy it or not… but it turns out that I completely loved it. I think this may be one of my favourite young adults/childrens books that I have read in a while. It was imaginative, and it was quite different. Had all of the things I consider necessary in a really good book: magic, girls kicking butt, and boys prancing about in early 19th century clothing. (But make no mistake, this isn’t a book about girls kicking butt, it’s about boys kicking butt, but there were a couple of awesome female characters.)The characters were all great. Rory was a little concerning at first - he seemed to sound more like a adult than a young teen, but considering his father left his family when he was super young, and he had to take care of his younger sister since their mother works ALL THE TIME… he had to grow up quickly, so the fact that he sounded quite a bit older than he’s supposed to be seemed a bit more understandable.The supporting characters were fabulous - especially some of the people who inhabit Mannahatta. I most particularly loved the Rattle Watch. They are definitely people I would like to have on my side in trouble. As for other characters in Mannahatta, well, I was a little upset about the fact that my favourite character ended up being the assassin. He was so much fun, and he reminded me of Draco from Cassie Claire’s Draco Trilogy.Definitely looking forward to more books about Mannahatta. There’s so many questions I have unanswered about this - especially since Rory saw his father in Mannahatta. I’m dying to know what happened to him.Source

How many more?

"Police are hunting two men who left a Auckland liquor store owner in a critical condition in hospital after he was shot during a robbery. Police said the armed men entered the store in Manukau last night and shot the owner before taking money and alcohol and then fleeing. One of the offenders is described as Maori and dressed in predominantly black clothing..."Police have narrowed the search down to one of 47,893 suspects.But you can't have any possible reason for owning one of those nasty Tasers or a can of Mace now- much less an actual firearm. That might mean you are thinking of defending yourself and we can't have that.What if other people started thinking that they could fend for themselves! Outrageous!Better a hundred citizens killed than one alleged robber!Source

A SUITABLE CHURCH

I've been reading C.S. Lewis and his thoughts about "a suitable church."  Very interesting.  Lewis says, "Surely you know that if a man can't be cured of churchgoing, the next best thing is to send him all over the neighborhood looking for the church that suits him until he becomes a taster or connoisseur of churches."  Man, does that perfectly describe our "church going culture".  If I become such a taster then I do not have to waste time in thinking about what I reject, but rather can spend all my time working up disharmony between those who say "mass" and those who say "holy communion."  I can get all worked up about clothing and music styles and candles and computers and other unessentials.  The search for a suitable church makes me a critic instead of being, what I believe God desires, a servant and a pupil.  There is not a worship service or sermon or book out there that will completely pass the scrutiny of the taster.  It's easy to think that the Church is here for education, building, missions, holding services, etc.  And, of course, all of these things must please me.  NO!!  The Church exists for nothing else but to draw men into Christ, to make them "little Christs" - that's what the word "Christian" means.  If they are not doing that, all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible itself, are simply a waste of time.Source

Warning: Don’t wear loose clothing when traveling via airplane

For the first time in years of airline travel since Sept. 11, I was frisked by a TSA Officer during check in. The reason? I had loose-fitted clothing on. Never mind that I had nothing on my persons – everything was emptied into their little trays to be inspected – nope, didn’t matter. The TSA Officer was quite polite and professional, and didn’t pat down any areas that I wouldn’t particularly like a TSA Officer patting down. But, it was all just a little weird. The wife of the couple behind me, who was Asian, was also asked to step aside for a frisk. She wasn’t wearing loose clothing but did have an infant and a toddler with her. The husband was not frisked. Female officers patted down the Asian woman. In the age of airport security, it might be time to rethink all of this. I mean, when I have nothing on my persons and step through the security machine and nothing goes off, why should a XXL shirt require me to be frisked? Source

Weigh In Day Here Again

A Few people have commented on how brave I am for posting those very revealing pictures of my side, back and front shots. I don't think I'm brave - just mad! No really I aim to use these pictures on a weekly basis to see results. I am disgusted at how fat I let myself get, although a few years ago I was up two more dress sizes than I am now. So over the years I have reduced my size slowly. Hopefully it won't take that long to reduce another two or more sizes!It is my Weight Watchers weigh in today and I am feeling a little apprehensive about getting on the scales. I have no idea how the weekend has affected my weight loss attempt this week. I have pushed myself at the gym four times since last weigh in and tried to keep active during the day. My food choices have been mostly good apart from the ice cream yesterday. So we shall see later what the scales will say.The weather is lovely today so I shall be going for a walk with my little one today and getting plenty of fresh air. I will stop by the park and we can have a run about with her football. Every bit of exercise helps huh!I'll be back later tonight after my weigh in to report my results at the dreaded scales!I'm finally back from my meeting and am happy. I did have a loss of 1lb! I was a bit gutted cos i wanted to lose more but hey every little helps. I guess I paid for the wine and chinese at the weekend.Just read hubby's blog and he now tells me the half way mark for this clothing challenge is next weekend and pictures are going to be taken! Argh gotta work extra hard I want to see a definate change from the last photo. Source

Real Bad DOMS!

Can't beleive I put those hideous pictures on my blog - I hate them soooo much. I am so determined to shift this weight and get a more streamlined body. I suppose I had to take the plunge and get those pictures up to give me something to look back at.Last night I went to the gym and really pushed myself to my limits. I ached like hell all night and this morning! I felt good doing the workout though. I am sure I can do this more and acheive more results than just not trying my best every time. Not sure how often I should be going and dong the whole programme. I get mixed info. One person says do all cardio & weights one night then the next do just cardio. Another person tells me to have all my workout done every other day. I can manage to go gym every night but not sure what the best is to do - HELP!!My food choices have got much better and I am back on track with my WW plan. I am making a huge effort to plan ahead and make time to cook from scratch - no more processed crap!!Just measured myself as I was gunna do that yesterday and forgot here it goes!Right arm - 16" a 3/4" loss since 30th MarchLeft arm - 15"Waist - 42" a 1/2" loss since 30th MarchBust - 47 1/2"Hips - 53" a 3" loss since 30th MarchRight Thigh - 26" a 4" loss since 30th MarchLeft Thigh - 26"It looks promising already with a few inches lost around different parts of my body!I didn't measure bust or left side on 30th March so nothing to compare to with them. But going forward I will do the lot again on 1st August when the clothing challenge ends. Pamper Session here I come!Going to the gym again tonight and see how I get on. I aim to do all my workout but if the weight gets too painful I will just do more on cardio.Just come back from gym its now 21:49. Had a good workout. Pushed myself to do my whole programme again and boy do I feel like I've done something! I came home and my legs and arms infact whole body has the slight shakes. I shredded hard!! Yeah come on Lisa !!!Source

SEX AND THE CITY STYLE AT KIMBERLY BOUTIQUE'S 3RD ANNIVERSARY PARTY

Lately it seems every fashion article references Sex and the City style these days, and Philly Chit Chat is right there with them. One of the best shops in Philadelphia to pick up a little style, Sex and the City style would be at Kimberly Boutique at 123 S 16th St near Sansom. Kimberly Boutique - Where Style Begins is their slogan!http://www.kimberlyboutique.com/ Earlier this month Kimberly Boutique celebrated their 3rd anniversary. Kimberly Anderson and Jimmy Contreras are the heart of Kimberly Boutique, and working together comes naturally for this pair of friends who each have their own unique flare. Together they create inviting warm retail therapy, fashion forward clothing and a "Cheers" type of environment with a shopping experience that will keep you coming back for more.On May 17, Tibi designer Amy Smilovic made a special appearance at Kimberly Boutique in honor of the shop’s third anniversary party a fundraiser that was held for Children's Crisis Treatment Center of Philadelphia. (L-R) C. Robert Beishline, CCTC, Amy Smilovic and Jimmy Contreras Jonathan Seidel stopped by to help in the celebrationBrian and Stephy Freedman, Shaneika Dabney and Mac Francis were thereSisters, er I mean daughter, mother Susan and Jillian Noyes, who picked up more than a few things as they are big Tibi and Kimberly Boutique fans.Jimmy and Nina Tinari, who I think looks amazing in this yellow skirt. I hope she had a chance to wow a few people before I featured it here. I didn't want to spoil the WOW factor for her.The party was a huge success, sales were brisks and a fun time was had by all Lauren Jacobsen and Diane Johnson look Sex and the City ready. I bet they saw the movie this past weekend. I confess I did not make it, but I will by weeks end. Happy 3rd Anniversary Kimberly Boutique, I look forward to many more stylish celebrations. Kimberly Anderson, Jimmy Contreras and designer Amy Smilovic On my facebook this morning I found this message fromJimmy: You must see Sex and the City Movie...it's so FABULOUS!!! Source

wildlife, nikab, dahab, wrap-up

Yesterday, for the first time ever in Egypt, I saw a bat. Which is encouraging, because I was very seriously considering releasing a dozen or so feral bats into Cairo. There is a slight bug problem. I don’t know where I would’ve gotten the bats, though. A friend of mine named Sarah purchased a nikab a few weeks ago. The nikab (nih KAHB) is the full face veil that covers everything but the eyes. There’s a little string between the eyes to help hold it up. Nikabi women also wear long black cloaks, gloves, and stockings. So Sarah goes to the market with her good friend Waleed, who is Egyptian. Waleed says to the shopkeeper, “This is my new American wife who has just converted to Islam, and she would like to wear the nikab.” The shopkeepers showered her with praise, “Oh God bless her! Welcome to Islam, sister!” Then they went on to say, “But sister, you know the nikab is not required. You could wear the hegab and be perfectly modest.” But Sarah (via Waleed) insisted. After choosing the desired nikab, Sarah almost blew her cover. She reached into her backpack (which Waleed was wearing), took out her wallet, and handed the shopkeeper the money. The vendors were speechless. A pious, traditional man is going to let his wife handle his money? But Waleed was smooth. He said, “Listen, she has only just converted, and there are many cultural differences that are hard for her to understand. She is an American after all. We must be patient with her. I don’t want to embarrass her, so I will speak with her when we get home.” To which the vendors responded, “Oh of course! Cultural differences! Oh, yes, she really is trying very hard. You are right to be patient with her. Hamdulillah!” It was a close call. Now she wears her nikab out occasionally and records her treatment. Everywhere she goes people treat her with deference and kindness. She once went to a crowded souq, and men would clear a path for her, saying “Make room for the lady.” Sarah doesn’t speak great Arabic, but she’s never been called out, because nikabis almost never speak in public. She has even had Waleed “introduce” her to people she already knows, so she can see how they treat her as a nikabi. They act the way you might act around a nun or a priest, guarding their language, sitting up a little straighter, adjusting their clothing to make sure they’re being modest enough. Once she was trying to hail a cab, and a car with a man, a nikabi, and a little girl (about two, but fully hegabbed) pulled over and told her to get in. The man explained that he was an off-duty cab driver going out with his family, but his wife insisted that he pull over for her nikabi sister. Then he explained that he didn’t usually dress his daughter that way. “I even let her wear a bikini at the beach!” he said. But the family was going out, and she wanted to look like her mother. He realized it looked silly (sort of like a two-year-old in lipstick and pumps), but she was so insistent on looking like Mom, and they didn’t go out very often, so the parents obliged and let her wear the hegab. When Sarah goes home to Las Vegas, she’s going to wear the nikab and record people’s reactions there. She’s gonna send me her conclusions. Last weekend we went to Dahab, a beach town on the eastern edge of the Sinai peninsula. Ariela took some great pictures, which I will soon steal. As a consequence of Dahab, there is a lot of skin on my body that is the wrong color. I have always been pink, but this is all wrong. There will be no pictures of that. My dad says I need to do a wrap-up what-did-I-learn post once I’m home. I’ll do some sort of concluding entry, but I don’t know that I can really sum up a semester. It’d be kind of gross to try to smush it all into one entry. I’ll figure something out. -CSource

transformation*

Taken from seikita :1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME (first pet, current car): Shana None2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME (fave ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Chocolate Pretty Heels3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Green Cat4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Naniloa Riga - kind of the second name which my pals from CA have given to me5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name): Naz Al - am I the evil guy? *)6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Purple Aloe Juice7. NASCAR NAME (the first names of your grandfathers): Eugene-Pyotr8. STRIPPER NAME (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Cherutti Black Chocolate10. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Tamara Tallinn - do not remember the last name11. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Spring Tulip12. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Melon Surfing Shorts13. HIPPIE NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Cake BirchSource

Chapter Deuce II

...And I'm still here.Title: Dreams and Fears, Chapter TwoRating: TSummary: Slowly, Ichigo realizes that his life is slipping away from his control. Things are about to get very bizarre for him and Rukia, and very soon.Series: BleachGenre: Is sarcasm a genre? If not, I'd say there's a touch of humor, a dose of mystery and drama, some cyberpunk, and a lots of awesome. Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach."Still needs a lot more work!" The same problems kept on occurring in Kurosaki's project. He wasn't sure if he even believed he could perfect his Data. On the other hand, he had full confidence that he was pissed off.Disgruntled, Kurosaki opened his eyes and removed the syringe from the side of his neck. The tip of the needle that had been poking into his brainstem glistened red in the gloom. At the end of the syringe, a cable ran out, connecting the syringe to a custom, self-built and shabby-looking computer sitting on Kurosaki's desk. Strewn about the desk were numerous books, all in severe disrepair, and numerous bottles, all empty. Not just the desk was a mess, though; the whole room was. Throughout the cheap apartment room he rented out, more empty bottles cluttered whatever space it could on the floor, wherever there wasn't any dirty clothes, or old, empty boxes that used to contain food. Actually, more often than not the junk came in layers, with the top of a bottle poking out from beneath a sleeve. For certain, there was no sign of the floor. Oh. Not that the floor could be visible since Kurosaki kept all lights off to save money on his electricity bill; the only light came through shuttered blinds--always closed-- and the dim glow of his monitor. A table stood out because it significantly raised elevation of the trash in a small area in the center of the room. An empty fridge and a small, dirty kitchen occupied one corner of Kurosaki's den, but the clutter was even worse there. Dangerous to step there ever since he threw some bottles in that corner and had been too lazy to sweep away the broken glass. Somewhere, Kurosaki wasn't sure where any longer, a bed was buried beneath his excess. Kurosaki was unconcerned about the lack of a bed, though; the damn thing was forgotten because he never used it, after all. He typically slept at his desk if he ever did rest. Usually from exhaustion.Exhaustion due to that. The needle in his neck. That was Kurosaki's work. He created Data that could be injected into the body and processed by the brain. Everybody wanted it, too. Everybody could think of a happier life than the one they currently lived, and Kurosaki could give it to them. Not without testing it out on himself...but his customers weren't the only ones who desired happier days. Looks like the setting is perfect. It really feels like you've gone through hell in here. And is something else going on here? Must confirm my suspicions.Kurosaki rubbed at his eyes. He must still have been tired from his dip into his subconscious through Data. Schizophrenia had never been a side effect associated with his product. A lot of suspect illnesses had occurred to frequent abusers of his Data, but never schizophrenia. So Kurosaki must still have been tired. Yeah, that's it. Like, tired could almost be called one of his personality traits, he slept so seldom these.Why did he sleep so infrequently? Strange dreams pestered him. Vivid dreams. Dreams so vivid that he had to wonder if his waking moments weren't what was really a\the dream. Confusing, really. Point was, Kurosaki wasn't going to put up with those kinds of ridiculous dreams so he didn‘t sleep.He preferred the dreams offered by Data. The kind he controlled.The little comment in his head already forgotten, Kurosaki stumbled out of his desk and into the mess. His stomach gurgled. The task of finding food awaited him. A task of varying difficulty depending on his standard for freshness of the day. The menu for the day was as follows: A mostly empty-box of Chinese food that only remained uneaten because a particularly foul sock had slipped inside; Ichigo was not sure when or how that sock got in there. It was relatively fresh, except it probably tasted like a foul sock now. On the other hand, the slice of pizza he could eat had not been touched by any contaminants...but that pizza hadn't been touched by anything for at least a week. Not so fresh. Lastly, there was some teriyaki chicken to munch on. Made yesterday, too, so it was fresh. Not only that, it had yet to be affected by the filth of his room and was only dirtying other stuff. Should be the best of both worlds, the chicken. However, the teriyaki chicken wasn't take-out like the other two and had been made by Kurosaki himself, which meant it could be the most toxic of all. Wow, I'm amazed by how filthy this is. Makes it real easy to be happy with your own life. Really reminds you how good you have it. Yeah, just what our city needs.Before Kurosaki could make his selection, though, the phone rang. Maybe that was a good thing since none of those selections could have been safe. Yet the phone was a bit tricky to locate. It could be anywhere. Under a shoe. Behind a bottle. Even in his pocket. With his current lack of cohesion, he could simply be imagining the phone ringing. Not dreaming, though, since he avoided sleep.But he wasn't. Wasn't imagining things. The phone was in his pocket, he found the damn thing eventually before the person on the other end could get impatient and hang up. "...Yo," Kurosaki answered cautiously. He got calls from the strangest people and needed to be careful. Not that carrying a phone was especially careful on his part.Luckily, it wasn't a lunatic who phoned him. "Hey, Ichigo, come over. I'm running really low and need some more of you-know-what." Furthermore, it was a person Kurosaki knew personally. "Don't worry, I've got money, idiot."...Huh? You-know-what? I should know what that is! What's going on here?"You don't need to pay me," muttered Kurosaki, though he knew she would try to pay him, anyways. "And I'll be over soon. Later.""All right, thanks. Seeya!"Click. Click.The conversation was over quickly. A need to be brief was always in order. Not due to cops or anything, as police hadn't patrolled town for what seemed like forever. No one really understood the hushed nature of these calls, actually. It was probably only a tradition, and was carried out as nobody knew any other way to go about things.Well, it seemed Kurosaki's breakfast--or lunch, or supper, he wasn't sure what time of the day it was--was not to be. He had work to do. Why not do it, though? He could buy a half-decent meal if he had a little change in his wallet. Oh, that's right. He told the person he didn't need to be paid. Well, damn. Still, Kurosaki helped his friends out, right? And she'd pay him, anyways, don’t forget.All right. Time to do a favor for a friend.After shutting off his precious computer and preserving its far more precious Data, Kurosaki tiptoed across the floor of his tiny room, wary of the chaos he'd created over time, to a little closet. He opened it up without thinking and was bombarded by falling magazines of the adult variety. Three of them stuck on to him. Yuck. Shaking his head at himself, he brushed the sticky pages off his body. Behind all kinds of shit he'd stuffed in there, through a mess of trash, Kurosaki found his coat and pulled it out of the closet. Slipped it on. Yeah, he was cool now. Not. It was impossible to appear cool in the jacket. For one thing, it was too big, and that meant something since Kurosaki was by no means a small guy. Also, the coat appeared almost lumpy. Only because it was lumpy--all the pockets were full--but it still made the coat and whoever wore it look less appealing without fail. Lastly, and most disgustingly, a solid layer of grimy, stained veneer coated the whole jacket. Fact of the matter was, the point of the jacket was to not look cool. To keep people away and draw negative attention, if any...though it couldn't really draw negative attention since practically everyone wore a coat just like this one.Anyways, Kurosaki definitely did not want attention in this thing. The pockets were stocked full of Data and if anyone found out about that, Kurosaki would be mugged to death. Literally. Everybody wanted the contents of those pockets and would kill for them. No kidding. He'd seen it happen to another dealer before. Could have happened to himself before if he hadn‘t been lucky in the past.Coat on, he forced his closet shut once more--after great effort and multiple attempts--and made another trek across the minefield to the door out of the apartment. After getting to the threshold of his crappy home, a search began for a pair of shoes. A desperate search that yielded no results. Of course, the search was doomed because, as Kurosaki realized, he was already wearing his shoes. He'd never taken them off. Again. He should remember these things, really. Should sleep some more, was what he needed to do. But no.Now he was ready. Shoes, coat, and data. He hadn't shaved but that was no matter. Kurosaki could do that tomorrow. Or the day after. Whenever he found the razor would be fine.He made sure his keys were safe in the coat, unlocked all three heavy bolts on his door, and ventured out of the relative safety of his room. He only did this kind of thing for his best friends. For one, in particular.Man, I'm a genius. This is so...realistic. The people will love it.While there was nearly no light in his pigsty, the hallway outside was even darker. If that was possible. When was the last time the tenant changed the lights? Oh yeah. The old man running the building died a few months ago and no one had bothered to step up in his place. That was why Kurosaki was stepping over, or on (since they couldn't be avoided), so many people on the floor of the corridor. His complex had been overrun by the homeless...err, the formerly homeless. After the news that this building had no authority leaked out, the less fortunate had leaked in. Only a few at first, but now it was a serious problem for Kurosaki. Every time he left his place, or wanted to get back in, he risked letting a couple of over-grown mice slipping inside his home and taking it for good. All the "real" residents in the apartment took this risk, too, but, as far as Kurosaki knew, no one else had a priceless stash of Data lying around like he did. Yeah, he probably should have moved out of the building a long time ago.The only reason he stayed was because you get free rent when you don't have a landlord. Hey, those homeless saps weren't the only ones short on money, you know. Nobody had money. He wasn't scared to leave, that was for certain. Also, he needed to help his friends.Perfect. Perfect...Absolutely perfect. This desolation is what they want to see.Kurosaki ignored the strange comment. Just like he purposely ignored how still one body he stepped on was. He had a long night ahead of him. Nothing would distract him. He didn't think he should have been able to help these poor people.Of course, Kurosaki did not stop moving once he reached the elevator. It would have been pointless to. The useless contraption had been garnished with a big "Out of Order" sign since before he moved into the apartment all those years ago, when the landlord's heart was still ticking away. He couldn't see the sign in the darkness, but the spray paint that had crossed out the word "Order" and replaced it with "Sex" hadn't been around when Kurosaki first started renting a room here. Heh, the sign always made him chuckle in a half-hearted way. It was too true in Kurosaki's case of late.The staircase was plagued with human impositions like every other inch of this apartment was, but not as many people lived here since the stairs were considered to be the worst place to live in the building. Like, who wanted to sleep on a perpendicular surfaced? Bad enough when you've got no real home. Add a terminal sore back to the equation and hell might as well pass you over because the real world wasn't any better. To Kurosaki, though, none of this mattered much. Not at all, nosiree. However, the lack of good sleep for these poor vagrants meant he had to deal with them moaning and groaning in addition to taking his personal space. His every footstep woke at least two people up, and these saps loved nothing more than to beg you for spare change and tell you how horrible their lives were when they were awake. Kurosaki didn't know why they bothered to tell him, of all people, these things. His life sucked, too, and not a single person in this apartment could spare a cent. He did his share of moaning as well from lack of good sleep.But the descent to the apartment's landing went by with little to no incident. Other than the three-year old who woke up in a fit of screams when he accidentally stepped on her foot, Kurosaki avoided feeling sympathy for any of them. Or so he convinced himself. He didn’t accidentally drop any needles full of Data for these unfortunate souls. Nope.Finally, he was stepping into the lobby and some light returned. The lobby, fairly large, was jam-packed with the destitute and reeked of poverty; this part of the apartment had always been prized for the lighting, which had always been better than anywhere else in the building. A slip of paper blew in from the doorway lacking any doors, where the luminescence from powerful street lights snuck inside from.Yeah, it was night all right. Always seemed like it was here. Kurosaki couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sun.Anyways, the light made it much easier to step around bodies. And that's what Kurosaki did. At the entrance of his crummy apartment complex, he weaved around the uncaring masses, to that big doorway with no doors. His destination was outside the apartment. Very outside the apartment, unfortunately.Unfortunately, because as much a nuisances as the vagabonds making a home out of his home were, they weren't nearly so bad as the people hanging outside the building.Just as he reached the threshold separating the apartment from the twilit city of Yoru, a distraction presented itself in the form of a squeak. "K-Kurosaki!"He turned around. Through the darkness, a girl stepped into his view. The tattered clothing she wore was shaking noticeably, along with the rest of her. What will you think of this, Inoue? You get to be the inspiration for a character design. Think of it as my way of giving you a bonus.Kurosaki twisted back to face outside. "What is it, Inoue?" he asked, his voice distant. Keeping himself detached from people was a must in Kurosaki's life; proximity was akin to death for him."...Are you going out again, Kurosaki?" She sounded troubled, as could be expected. Likely, her expression would have matched her worried tone, had Kurosaki been able to see her face. "Yeah."While the number of times he left his place was seldom more than a few times a month, it was considered a lot by Yoru standards. Nobody really wanted to leave the safety of their homes when they could be sleeping. Assuming they had a place to call home."Why? Is it because you..." Inoue trailed off, as if not sure what to ask Kurosaki.It's because this would be dull if he stayed inside all day. Because I want him out there. Because I am responsible for this, not him!Kurosaki offered no explanation for his motives. "Later," was all he said, but who knew if there ever would be a later.Honestly, it was amazing Kurosaki was still alive after all this time. The Devil's Luck, he must have had, to pull through numerous walks across town without being murdered for a stray glance. Or nerves of steel, as one trek through Yoru at night was often enough to keep even the bravest of men hiding under their beds for a month.A frantic attempt was made to hold him back. "Wait, Kurosaki...!" Yet, he was already slipping away. Excellent. Never met a person who could stand these guide characters, but they need to be here. Now, for the real fun, for the proof...Once out of the mostly-safe confines of the apartment, anarchy awaited Kurosaki.Gunshots welcomed him to the streets of Yoru. Really. A stray bullet whistled by him immediately after he left the apartment. It hadn't been aimed at him, and it was purely chance that he happened to be near the line of fire, but what a way to start the night. Yet, Kurosaki walked down the crumbling sidewalk. With confidence. Or arrogance. Perhaps he was just stupid, but you could not deny the fact that the guy was used to this sort of thing; it wasn't the first time he'd nearly died.While guns were fired continuously in Yoru, their din a thunderous song of fire and chaos that never ended, it wasn't actually all that dangerous to walk around town, contrary to common sense. You see, only the crazy people left the relative safety of the buildings and joined one of the many gangs on the street. They were all drunk, all the time. Where they obtained guns was beyond Kurosaki--he had suspicions that some lucky bastards made a fortune supplying these lunatics with heat--but the wild ruffians couldn't aim worth a damn. You were in more danger of being hit by a stray projectile that was not intended specifically for your head. Though, really, none of these gang members seriously aimed to kill people.Those that chose to live on the streets wanted to get shot, more than anything else.It was hopelessness that drove these insane people to the streets. Or they were unable to get their hands on any Data. Either way, they had been crushed by the oppressive weight of Yoru and were very suicidal. Driven mad from this world without opportunity or hope, they went berserk. Picked up guns because they secretly wished to become targets for other maniacs and die. Leave this hellhole once and for all. Yeah, it would make more sense to turn the lethal weapons upon themselves. Say goodbye on their own and save people who needed to go somewhere, like Kurosaki, a lot of trouble instead of going ballistic and lashing out at random against the city. However, you have to realize that these people weren't right in their minds. Besides, very suicidal or not, they still feared death almost as much as the city.This carnage was what Kurosaki went through.The streets of Yoru were terrifying because they made real your fears about failing. The sight of its buildings crumbling chipped away at your own soul. After your will to go on left you, this hell was what awaited you.Oh, the possibilities with this setting are unlimited. I wonder how many lives I should allow each user...The occasional grenade was tossed indiscriminately, and Kurosaki hated it when one landed nearby. Not because it risked his life--nor because it meant others could die!--but because throwing himself to the ground to save himself could mean the loss of his all-important Data. Fires burned from where stray grenades had hit cars or people, providing light where street lamps had long since been knocked over or burnt out. And so many still bodies. Most were dead or lifeless, if not running down the middle of the road like a madman. Young, old, every gender alike. Didn't anybody ever take them away? A few of the especially daring made a living rummaging through the deceased remains of those who were unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire.Still, someone should do something about the blood. It would have been nice if it rained more often here, so the dark, brownish-red stains that graffittied the walls and sidewalks would get washed off more frequently than never.Doing his best to ignore most of his ludicrous surroundings, Kurosaki made his way through the residential district, where he lived, on his way to the outskirts of Yoru. To the edge of the mad city. His destination. He avoided walking too quickly, so as not to attract attention, would pause occasionally when it seemed a heavy round of gunfire would go off right in front of him. The stars above the ruined buildings hid beneath a smoky haze across the atmosphere, as if ashamed by the chaos below.Then, after being so successful in not making any grave mistakes, Kurosaki fucked up real bad and bumped into a person.Then, he snapped at that person. Which was the biggest mistake. "Hey, watch where you're going!" he yelled at the large, dark shape that had the audacity to step in his way. That was the dumb move. Speaking up. He always had problems with that.Awesome! Die, impostor! My heart's pounding! Wait, isn't that...?The shape turned around, possibly intent on murder. A big pair of knuckles cracked menacingly. And white eyes suddenly widened. "...Ichigo?""Huh? Chad?"Recognition passed between the two. Abruptly, both burst out laughing like idiots, in the middle of insanity personified....What a letdown. I should have programmed it so he would have perished in this scenario."Hey, what are you doing out here, man?" Kurosaki laughed, in too good a mood to be disturbed by the voice.Light-hearted seconds before, Chad's gaze darkened. "Doing a guide job."An explosion went off in the far distance."Guide job? Where's the customer, then?""Dead. Went ahead of me and was gunned down.""Oh.""Don't worry, though. The guy was a loner that no one cared about. Still...""You wished you could have done your job. Right?""...Yeah."Being a guide was a dangerous job. More dangerous than most, rather. A guide's role was to help regular folk get through the city unharmed. You had to be half-mad to become one, but the pay was far better than most. Only the few successful people in Yoru could afford guides--or needed to go anywhere and needed them--so you'd get a lot of cash if you got your client safe to their destination. If. Most often, either the client or the guide, or both, didn't survive. If only the guide lived, he or she risked a bounty being placed on their heads by the client's relatively wealthy and surviving family members. Bad enough that you don't get paid for a failed mission, you could go mad after failing to protect too many customers because you’d be forced to deal with too many bounty hunters. A lot of guides did go mad if they weren‘t crazy already to accept the job.."Well, I need to go, Chad. Seeya.""Wait, where you going?...Making a..." Chad hushed into a whisper. "...delivery?"All Kurosaki did was nod. Gunfire pounded.Chad understood. "Want a guide, Ichigo?" he offered his assistance. "Free of charge for a friend.""Thanks, but no thanks. I'm already drawing too much attention by talking to a guide. I should have left before now.""All right...Mind if I ask who you're going to?""Later, Chad."And Kurosaki's detour ended. He felt Chad's eyes on his back until he turned a corner. He pulled his jacket closer to himself, huddling his gangly shoulders. Why did he do these things, again? At times, it felt like he had no control over himself.Hmm, that's dangerous thinking. Don't want the customers' systems crashing mid-game.The hissing roar of a missile being fired caused Kurosaki to glance upwards. Across the city, a plume of fire lit up in an already-damaged skyscraper, and Kurosaki felt fortunate he was nowhere near the building as debris descended towards some unlucky people sleeping below the skyscraper.While his head was up, Kurosaki stared at the brightest light in the sky. The moon was full this night. A pretty good night so far, Kurosaki figured.But he soon changed his mind.Walking across Yoru with your head up is incredibly stupid. And Kurosaki was walking across Yoru with his head up. And this was incredibly stupid because Kurosaki stepped into a crack in the sidewalk and immediately tripped.Yoru went silent, or so it seemed. The guns stopped in this one moment when Kurosaki needed them blazing.The fall didn't hurt. However, a precious needle rolled out of his coat and the sound of weighted glass spinning across the concrete was louder than any explosions earlier tonight to Kurosaki's ear.Oh shit.Oh yes.Kurosaki forgot any pain in his body. All his troubles of making ends meet vanished. He didn't care about what he'd do for supper. He was in serious trouble and he scrambled to his feet at a full sprint.He was running for his life now.From a group of hundreds of people that were suddenly awake and after his blood. The needle that fell out was greedily snatched up and a crowd fought to the death over it. Machine guns roared. None were fired at Kurosaki because no one wanted to break the Data. Machine guns were fired at any and everyone else in his vicinity. It was chaos.The dead city came alive in order to get the happy memories they could take from Kurosaki.He could run and they would follow him anywhere, pulverize him and strip him of all his Data that they desperately wanted. And they would fight each other for this Data, but Kurosaki could not care less about that because he would be dead if that happened.Run, run! Hahahahaha!He hated this damn voice, so much like his own, laughing at him but Kurosaki did run for all his worth, regardless. This wasn't the first time he'd been in such a position. Screams pursued him. He wasn't sure how he hadn't already been grabbed, but he somehow kept ahead of his followers. That's all that mattered and it gave him some hope.But he needed more than hope, he knew from experience. Right now, the doctor called for a big dose of luck. And didn't Kurosaki have the Devil's Luck?Yeah, he did.Twisting and turning down streets to keep ahead of an every-growing mob, Kurosaki was convinced his luck had finally ran dry this night when a door in a building abruptly opened and an arm pulled him inside a dark room. The door slammed shut. The mob ran past the door.And Kurosaki was given another reprise.Lucky bastard...but that sure was exciting. I'll have to find a way to put more weapons on the street for anyone to pick up...Increase the width of the sidewalks or something..."You're a moron, you know that? Eh, Kurosaki?"Kurosaki's saviour taunted him from the darkness. It didn't remain dark, however, and a glint from glasses greeted him after a light flickered on."Shut up, Ishida." Kurosaki was in no mood to be reminded this. He couldn't believe he'd made such an amateur mistake."...And you owe me for this, you know that," added Ishida.Kurosaki grimaced. "Yeah, I do," he spat out in disgust. Both at himself and Ishida."You know what I want, too.""Yes. The same thing those crazed people do. Well, you'll get it, don't worry."Ishida smiled. The smug punk was enjoying this rare change of fortune. More often than not, it was Kurosaki who pulled his fellow hacker out of the fire. Ishida would milk this for all it was worth and Kurosaki would not hear the end of this for quite some time.Ah, annoying that he had to get saved, but nobody wants a game over screen too quickly.After partaking some of the data, Kurosaki waited in Ishida's lab for a few minutes before setting out again. He'd whipped the mob into a frenzy with a foolish slip of his foot, but their fervour couldn't last long. Sure enough, not a soul was in sight when he'd left the abode of his rival supplier minutes later.The moon was bright. The air smelled of sulphur and ashes.He hated this city. The temptation to open his coat right then and inject some Data directly into his brainstem was strong. To take total control in another world. If he didn't have a mission he needed to complete, he'd be a drooling vegetable right now at his home and loving it.No can do, though. Kurosaki was well out of the residential district, out of downtown and near his destination by this point. Real close. The things he did for a friend.Her house was in the suburbs, hardly even a part of Yoru. A much safer place to live. Kurosaki should move out here, too, but he didn't have the money. It made no sense how he could be creating such a desired product and have no money to show for it. He blamed the voice for this, but quickly changed that thought. He refused to give power to the voice.Ah, he seems to be here. Wherever "here" is.Yes, Kurosaki was there. His objective was this normal-looking house. The house was one among many that all look strikingly similar. All were a touch decrepit but were in far better shape than the any of the buildings in the heart of the chaotic Yoru.For a few seconds, Kurosaki paused to catch his breath. Then he knocked on the door.She was expecting him, so the door was quickly opened."Took you long enough, Ichigo."Kurosaki glared at this woman while thinking of the troubles he went through....Will he fight her? I hope so.But he could not stay very angry. She kept him going the whole time, after all. He put himself through all that shit for her."Come on, Rukia," Kurosaki took her by the shoulder and welcomed himself inside. "I really need some Data after what I just went through." Really needed to prove to himself that he wasn't being manipulated."No kidding," Rukia agreed, unaware of any ulterior motives. "Seems like Data is the only way I can see the sun these days."I've been wondering...just what is this "Data" that everyone finds so important? I don't recall ever programming anything like that into this world...Just so long as it isn't...In Rukia's living room, where her computer was, Kurosaki set things up for maximum simulation. Her computer was bought from a store ages ago and was nowhere near as good as his, but any computer could amplify the effects of Data considerably. And Rukia's simple piece of machinery could do this much.The wait felt unbearable now that the payoff was so close. But Kurosaki and Rukia managed to contain themselves. After opening a special program he installed on Rukia's computer, pulling some wires out from his custom needles and plugging them into the proper ports, Kurosaki was ready.What is he doing...? Don't let it be...Kurosaki ignored the bizarre mumbling. All he could think of was blue skies and fast cars. At last, he had two needles in hand. Then just one needle, after he passed one to Rukia."Ready?" They both asked at the same time, each with sharp tips pointed towards the bases of their necks. Of course they were ready.What is this?!"You want to know what it's like to live in a peaceful city, as a rich person where nothing goes wrong in your life, Rukia?"...No way."Sure. It's got to beat this dump."As one, they slid the needles in, entering the fantasy reality provided by the data created by Kurosaki. It was a pleasant daze of pleasant days.So...that voice from before...it really is...?Outside of Rukia's house, the moon was sinking. The sun was rising. It was currently a time that could neither be called night nor day. It was the dawn of a new day.Ichigo ripped himself away from the computer screen, panting. He knew it. Suddenly, nothing in his office appeared to be concrete. It was all as transparent as the glass in his windows.Yeah, he understood what Data was. And now nothing else made sense, as he feared. His world was collapsing into a nightmare.Ahh, nothing like pretending I work at a fancy office all day.Unbelievable. This was so wrong. Ichigo wanted to smash his computer in. But he didn't dare. How could this be possible? How could a virtual avatar of himself that he created be his creator? This was backwards. Mind boggling. He wondered if he was experiencing some strange dream. He better not be. He avoided sleep for a reason.What time was it? Ichigo looked at his clock. About eight o'clock. Night was approaching. He'd been on his computer for some time, absorbed in his work. He couldn't think of much else now.Things were not so cool in Hirusugi, all of a sudden. Ichigo could not deny this fact for the first time, try as he might.Hey, something is wrong with this Data...is he thinking what I am...? Hearing me?What a punk this other Ichigo Kurosaki was. Masquerading as himself. Tch. Ichigo was too cool to stand for this. He won Game Developer of the Year five years in a row (a record). Obviously, he created a game so ingenious that even he could not comprehend it. But he would undo this. For certain.A knock on his door distracted him."Yeah?" He called out. It could only be Kuchiki. Ichigo and Kuchiki were the only two workers on this floor who stayed past seven.Naturally, though, the woman let herself inside before he spoke."Hey, you all right, Kurosaki?" she asked. This conversation sounded very familiar. "You've been in your office since I left this morning. Didn't even come out for lunch.""...I've been real busy.""You missed Keigo's latest screw up. He set back development two weeks. He's very lucky he wasn't fired.""So he often is.""You look tired. Did you get enough sleep last night?""Of course."Kuchiki clearly did not believe him but she let it slide."...How is your game coming along? You must have made some great progress.""About my game...I'm thinking of scrapping the whole project.""Scrapping it?! Why? You've never done that before.""...The game is not very fun.""Really? You were raving about how it would be the greatest game you ever made before. About how it would perfectly simulate a post-apocalyptic environment, and would allow the people of Hirusugi to enjoy gang wars with their neighbours...or something...I know it would sell a lot of copies."...Post-apocalyptic simulation? Don't tell me..."I changed my mind. It was a stupid idea. Now I'd rather make a game about cute rabbits."Stunned silence."What happened, Ichigo?" Kuchiki suddenly switched to his first name, even though she knew better than to do that. And she knew she shouldn’t be moving this close to him."It's about what you said earlier. About Hirusugi being too perfect. I agree with you completely, Rukia." Whoops, he wasn't supposed to use her first name, either.Her gaze hardened on him. "What happened, Ichigo?" she repeated her question firmly.The Data isn't working...! This isn't how I designed Hirusugi...!His office was dark. Outside Soul Society Entertainment, it was no longer day. It was dusk and soon it would be night. The sun had nearly been eclipsed by the horizon.Ichigo could not bring himself to explain what happened. He chose instead to kiss Rukia; she didn't complain about the choice. She had words later.He was sick of his life. Sick of his job. Sick of pretending to be living as though life was a game. And, most of all, sick of the dumb front he and Rukia put up every day at the office.So he shut off his computer. After deleting The Dead Zone. The game never was released to the public.Night finally fell over Hirusugi. Ichigo Kurosaki never heard a voice in his head again.Except in his dreams.Kurosaki yanked the needle out of his neck.At last, his head was blessedly quiet, except for his own angry thoughts.But the man was baffled. What he saw in his dream world was not pleasant at all. His Data was a complete failure. Just like his whole life and everyone else's in Yoru.How could his dream self have an independent conscious? What sort of side effect was this? Kurosaki forced himself to calm down. He had been imagining things. Again. He only thought his other self gained a life of its own accord.No, he’d suspected this for a long time. It was just he had no way of denying the truth now.He’d been denying it because the notion of another Ichigo Kurosaki having control over his destiny really pissed him off. He threw the needle--still in his hand--to the floor in disgust. Then he scrambled through the pockets of his dumb coat, flinging out countless needles. Destroying all of them. Destroying all the "priceless" Data he'd toiled so long to make. When he realized Rukia was still connected to the false world of his Data, he pulled her needle out, too, and smashed it against the floor.All the Data was gone."What are you doing, Ichigo?! Are you crazy?!""No. I've had it with Yoru, Rukia. I'm leaving this rotten city." Oh, he was. He didn't even notice he'd decided this until he said it."...Huh? Why?" His companion was stunned.The real question was why hadn't he already, though. Something had snapped in Ichigo Kurosaki. Snapped free and was out of control.He finally felt like he was in control of his destiny."Doesn't matter why," he told Rukia. "All I want to know is if you'll leave with me."The sun was on the rise. Daytime was finally upon Yoru. Ichigo Kurosaki never heard a voice in his head again."Dummy. Of course, I will."Except in his dreams.The room was no longer so dark. Either a light had been turned on or the sun had risen. Neither were very plausible but there had to be an explanation for the sudden light.At his computer, where he’d fallen asleep, the man woke up in a fit.Most likely, he wouldn’t be sleeping again for a long time. It was these dreams. He hated them. He kept on seeing visions of himself, more than one. All reminded him of himself but were nothing like him. It was surreal.They were disturbing, those dreams. Gave him reason to fear, even if the reasoning made sense to none save himself. But he wouldn’t be consumed by these dreams. That was why the man avoided sleep; it was his way of refusing to give in. How long could the sleepless nights last? Not long enough, so far as the man was concerned; he was determined to conquer the need to rest.On his computer in the not so dark room, he wrote about what he did in the dreams. About the various incarnations of himself he was privy to in the stuff of dreams. The man noted recurring elements that gave him cause for concern. For example, every version of himself created another version of himself. The same people surrounded him in each different world, with that one woman being the most important to imin all of them.He wrote this down, noting the similarities. The dreams were all his mind could think of, even when he wasn’t dreaming. The worst dreams were the ones where another variation of the man saw into his life or even created his existence.That was why sleep was so frightening, by the way. He saw these key recurring elements in his own life, not only in the dreams. The people in the dreams were the people in his life. That one most important woman in the dreams was the most important woman in his life. He wrote about--and possibly created?--other versions of himself on his computer. No different from the men who were him but not him did in the dreams. He and his dream selves were too similar for the dreams to only be dreams.Come to think of it, which started first? The dreams or the writing? The two were interlinked. Inseparable. In fact, something told the man they started at the same time, impossible though that should be. Would the dreams stop if he no longer wrote? Would the writing stop if no longer dreamed? The man was uncertain.This doubt permeated through his whole life now, came to represent it. Was the truth that all the avatars of himself, spread across countless worlds, were real? That they needed to create one another to sustain one another? Somehow, the man did not think any of them were real--including himself--and it was this growing conviction that gnawed at his soul.This growing belief that none of avatars were real tormented the man known as Ichigo Kurosaki, and not just the Ichigo Kurosaki in the not so dark room. Yeah, all of the Ichigo Kurosakis must have this nagging thought somewhere at the back of their heads. The only exception, of course, should be the real Ichigo Kurosaki that was not a fake. The original, wherever he was dreaming, could not be sharing these doubts. And if the Ichigo Kurosaki in the not so dark room had these doubts, how could he be the original? Exactly. Or so the man in the not so dark feared.However, the man refused to accept this reality, this fear. Ironic, this stubborn denial, considering that he also refused to dream just as desperately.

AN IDEOLOGY THAT'S JUST PLAIN UN-AMERICAN.

And we're talking about you, Barack Obama:On Sunday Barack Obama urged graduates ofConnecticut's Wesleyan University to devote themselves to "collectiveservice." This is not an unusual theme for a commencement address. Butit was interesting how long he went on discussing various kinds ofnonprofit activism without ever mentioning the virtues of commerce orof individual achievement.He also did not cite the military as an example ofservice to one's country. This is a surprising omission in a MemorialDay weekend speech to college-age students by a man seeking to beentrusted with the defense of the U.S.Sen. Obama told the students that "our individualsalvation depends on collective salvation." He disparaged students whowant to "take your diploma, walk off this stage, and chase only afterthe big house and the nice suits and all the other things that ourmoney culture says you should buy."The people Mr. Obama is sneering at are the ones whobuilt America - the traders and entrepreneurs and manufacturers whogave us railroads and airplanes, housing and appliances, steam engines,electricity, telephones, computers and Starbucks. Ignored here is thework most Americans do, the work that gives us food, clothing, shelterand increasing comfort. It's an attitude you would expect from aDemocrat.Or this year's Republican nominee ..More:There is a whiff of hypocrisy here. Mr. Obama, whomade $4.2 million last year and lives in a $1.65 million house boughtwith the help of the indicted Tony Rezko - and whose "elegant suits"and "impeccable ties" made him one of Esquire's Best-Dressed Men in theWorld - disdains college students who might want to "chase after thebig house and the nice suits." Mr. McCain, who with his wife earnedmore than $6 million last year and who owns at least seven homes,ridicules Mr. Romney for having built businesses.But hypocrisy is not the biggest issue. The real issueis that Messrs. Obama and McCain are telling us Americans that ournormal lives are not good enough, that pursuing our own happiness is"self-indulgence," that building a business is "chasing after our moneyculture," that working to provide a better life for our families is a"narrow concern."They're wrong. Every human life counts. Your lifecounts. You have a right to live it as you choose, to follow yourbliss. You have a right to seek satisfaction in accomplishment. And ifyou chase after the almighty dollar, you just might find that you areled, as if by an invisible hand, to do things that improve the lives ofothers.John McCain doesn't get away here either. Read the whole thing.Source

WFMW: Toddler Belts

I shamelessly stole this idea from my sister's sister-in-law. (What does that make her? My SIL once removed?)I've noticed that the manufacturers seem to making children's clothing wider in the waist. Miss C's pants are always falling down, but baby belts don't fit, and girl sized belts are too large.The solution? A pretty purple leather dog collar! The ones meant for large breeds are just the right size for a slim to average toddler. They come in some great patterns and designs, too.The kiddie leash was a flop, but this is a hit so far!Works for Me! Head over to Shannon's for more Works for Me Wednesday tips!Source

Voted Out of Kindergarten-- Alex Barton

The blond-haired little boy stared back at me from a photo distributed on the w.w.w. [w.w.w. = world wide wasteoftime]. In a parody of democracy in action, Alex Barton was voted out of kindergarten for the remainder of the school day last Wednesday. His crime? Having a neurological condition called Asperger's and some associated behavioral problems. The teacher-- a Wendy Portillo-- cajoled her class into voting. And reportedly had children describe what they didn't like about young Alex. One reported adjective was "disgusting." Two kids voted to keep Alex in the classroom that day. The majority voted that he be excluded. Alex who was just returned to the class from the principal's office for his behavior spent the rest of the school day in the nurse's office. Needless to say, Alex has not been thrilled about his experience.Although folks on both sides of the issue have resorted to name-calling, what I find even more repugnant are the public comments which support Wendy Portillo in her actions. Her excuse ran something like teaching the children about tallying. I wasn't there but I have an opinion anyways-- bovine fecal matter to that. Was the teacher lying about the whys and wherefores of her ill-advised election activity a la Survivor fashion? Nah, she was just being reckless with the truth.Yes, I know how difficult it can be to maintain reasonable discipline and order in any rowdy bunch of human beings. Been there, done that. Yes I am intimately acquainted with the cluster of symptoms which comprise Asperger's. Of course I know how aggravating it is to herd cats.I also know the frustration of living with atypical neurology.I do not belong to the Autism Squeaks camp. [Autism Speaks but not for me, a curebie organization of unhappy parents]. I don't understand why forcing eye contact is such a big deal to neurotypicals, don't wish to blend in, will not give up my passions, and certainly will continue to celebrate diversity. I hate all clothing that is not cotton. I detest polyester and nylon in particular. I don't use makeup or wear high heels. I used to stare at the dust specks illuminated by the sunlight pouring through a window. I was clumsy rather than graceful and the last to be picked for any gym class team. I have been accused of staring too long, daydreaming, having obsessions with the things that are of intense interest to me, being intense or too intense or thinking too much about weird things or the wrong things, eating food in a specific order rather than varying what is on the fork from bite to bite, eating the same thing for breakfast daily, not making small talk, not caring about small talk or the lives of celebrities, being a geek or a space cadet or pedantic, not fitting in. And worse, daring to be content with my own company and my own internal focus and my own way of being.No Child Left Behind. One Child Voted Out.radical sapphoq says: A huge phooey to Wendy Portillo. As an adult and as a teacher, I cannot believe that she didn't have other options for dealing with a misbehaving five year old. While I support reasonable discipline and consequences for one's actions, I abhor what happened to Alex Barton. I sincerely hope that he will find a new classroom where he is valued for who he is, a teacher who knows about the issues that people on the broad autistic spectrum face and who has a better arsenal of tools for keeping order in a classroom.Bev over at Autism Square 8 has an excellent list of who to write to should anyone feel so inclined:http://aspergersquare8.blogspot.com/2008/05/not-special-support-alex-barton.htmlEducate yourselves if you wish to. Here is a partial incomplete list which includes two news articles from the same newspaper in Florida and some other bloggers who are blogging about this crapola:excellent thoughts about this whole messhttp://lastcrazyhorn.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/the-golden-rule/Laura Hersheyhttp://crip-power.com/2008/05/27/thoughts-on-alex-barton-and-the-way-we-organize/the politics of exclusionhttp://qw88nb88.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/mend-the-link/Amandahttp://ballastexistenz.autistics.org/?p=538an interview with Alex Barton and his motherhttp://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/05/27/earlyshow/main4130288.shtmltwo Palm Beach Post articles-- links working as of 5/28/08http://www.palmbeachpost.com/treasurecoast/content/tcoast/epaper/2008/05/27/0527slteacher.html#commentsandhttp://www.palmbeachpost.com/treasurecoast/content/tcoast/epaper/2008/05/23/0523slclassvote.html?cxntlid=inform_artrSource

Election Night Surprises

A few initial surprises as I look over the election results for Bannock County and the surrounding counties:For being an unknown in a primary against a man who has been running the race for what seems like centuries, David Archuleta had a strong showing. The unofficial results for Bannock County show Archuleta at 39% to LaRocco's 61%; for Bingham County 46% to LaRocco's 54% (with 9 of 26 precincts reporting); and, 36% to LaRocco's 64% in Bonneville County.The quintessential Bannock County Democrat, Lin Whitworth, has been unseated. I can hardly believe it. This was the race I was watching closest going into election day and I must say the one I was most shocked by as I read the night's results. KIDK is reporting that Karen Cordell beat Whitworth for the commission seat by 596 votes. Unreal. That's all I can say. Unreal.The Secretary of State's office has listed with their unofficial results the District 32 race going to Erik Simpson over Anne Rydalch. I don't know the specifics of this race so I can't actually call it a surprise, but I suppose it is a surprise when the conservatives in Bonneville County can see a wolf in sheep's clothing. Thank everything holy, Anne Rydalch will not be returning to the statehouse!Also from the Idaho SOS, Cassia County is reporting 92 Democrats voted today for Hillary Clinton. Granted, the primary has no bearing, given the results of the caucus, but I want to know where Cassia County found 92 Democrats to vote for Hillary Clinton. Add that to the 89 who voted for Obama. What's going on in Cassia?! Add that to the numbers for Clinton and Obama in Minidoka County and I am officially baffled.Maybe I am reading this wrong, but was there really a guy named Nephi running for county commissioner in Madison County and he didn't win??Too bad the surprise we aren't all excited about tonight is an unbelievable turnout across the state. I guess people just can't get too hyped up about a primary election directly following a three-day weekend that honors those who have come before us, paving the way for us to participate in this great democracy, handing us the right to vote. It's a damn shame that isn't tonight's surprise.Source

The Devil Wears Nada

Today, a friend of mine who shall remain nameless IMed me to complain that my politics had gotten too complicated. "I tried to read your post, and then my head hurt and I was like, god damn it, it's lunch time. So I read Go Fug Yourself instead."And I laughed, because I have to admit, she's right. Because frankly, sometimes I make my head hurt, too. So today, I'm not going to talk about health care, or new economies, or individualism. I promise I'm not going to throw around the words "Jeffersonian pastiche."Instead, today, I'm going to talk about fashion.No, I'm serious. Really. Don't roll your eyes at me! Sheesh!Okay, fashion. Once upon a time (or about five years ago) I was a struggling actress (seriously) who taught SAT classes for a living. I was having a conversation with my Pilates teacher (shut up, I live in LA) about clothes. She was talking about how she had all these clothes that she never wore, and I smugly remarked that I wore all the clothes in my closet. Fast forward to myself a year later. I had quit acting and the SAT teaching, and was working an office job that required me to wear business casual wear. My closet started to pile up with business casual clothes (many of which I didn't like) and the army of jeans and tee-shirts I had needed when teaching SATs were left neglected.Fast forward six months later. My father died, and I rapidly lost 20 pounds, thanks to the only diet that has ever worked for me. I call it the "too sick with grief to eat" diet. None of my clothes fit anymore, but I was too depressed to care much. Plus, I assumed I'd gain back the weight.A year later, I still hadn't gained back the weight. So there I was, with a closet of ill-fitting clothes. I had a pile of work clothes I hated, and a bunch of tee-shirts I loved but never had the opportunity to wear. Where I had once bragged about wearing every piece of clothing in my closet, I now wore a tiny fraction of my clothes.Now most people say stuff like, "Oh, if I ever lose 20 pounds, I'll treat myself to new clothes." Well, here's the problem with that. I had lost 20 pounds, but I hadn't gotten any richer. I simply could not afford a whole new wardrobe. So here's what I did. I started off by stealing clothes from my younger sister. Okay, okay, but this is not as bad as it sounds. First of all, it is the *right* of sisters to steal from each other. This is what we do. And secondly, I only stole the clothes that she left at my mom's house when she went to college. I mean really. If she didn't care enough to take them with her, she obviously didn't need them. Those clothes were sad and lonely and I was just giving them a home! On my ass. Plus she didn't even care! Fine, she cared. But then later she stole some stuff of mine, and now we're even. This is so not the point. Can we move on now?Next, I went through my closet, and pulled every article of clothing that didn't fit me, but that I actually liked. Once I had together 15 pieces of clothing, I got a recommendation for a tailor from a friend. Then I went to the tailor, and had her alter everything. A mere $85 later, I had well-fitting clothes I actually liked. And then, and this was the hardest point, I worked to slowly hone my own personal sense of style. This isn't the easiest thing to do when you're a woman. There's a multi-million dollar industry out there whose sole job is to tell you that ponchos are in, and skinny jeans are out, and then that skinny jeans are in and ponchos are out. I am 5'2" with a propensity to fall down. I am hardly a fashion maven. Yet, I owned two ponchos. The pull of the fashionistas is strong.But I didn't want to have to buy ponchos one year and vests the next. I wanted a nice wardrobe that would make me look decent year after year. So, I started to ignore Glamour and Cosmo, and instead started trusting my own eye. I don't particularly like button down shirts, but I tend to gravitate to shirts with Indian embroidery. So I bought those, and when anyone went to India, I got some from them too. I bought things in colors that attracted me (largely forest green and burgundy.) And I picked up several dresses with cute floral patterns. I bought tops that worked with the bottoms I already owned and vice versa.And slowly, I had a wardrobe of clothes I liked. Clothes I was happy to wear.So when it came time to the non-consumer challenge, I decided to forgo all clothes shopping for a year. Because, honestly, I had more clothes than I really needed, and I was pretty happy with my wardrobe. I didn't feel like anything was lacking, so why buy more?So for almost 10 months I haven't bought a single article of clothing. Not new clothes nor used clothes. I admit, I did receive a few shirts as gifts, and I participated in a clothing swap, but I haven't spent one single dollar on clothing since August.And truthfully? I don't miss it at all. Okay, that's a lie. I miss it a little.But I miss it much less than one would think.Because the thing is, I already did my homework. I already have a great wardrobe full of clothes that fit me well, clothes that fit my personal style. Clothes that if you saw them and you knew me, you would say, "That's a shirt Arduous would wear."Eventually, the clothing I have now will wear out and I will have to buy new clothes. But for now, I'm happy with my clothes. Once again, I can smugly sit back and say, "I wear all the clothes in my closet."Source

JIA ZHANG-KE & SAN FRANCISCO

Though I was not pleased to read at Text of Light that the print of Jia Zhang-ke's Still Life that Max Goldberg caught at its weeklong run at the Roxie Film Center "had evidently been around the block a few times", I was heartened that Max nonetheless appreciated Still Life's resemblance to Antonioni's films: "[W]here Antonioni's figures are existential drifters, Jia's are actual migrants—a more physically vivid vision of dislocation. Both directors like the idea of a fruitless search and both find something colossal in ruins and large-scale urban decay, but Still Life's lament isn't airless in the same way as Red Desert or L'eclisse." Max likewise felt empathic resonances with the news of the Sichuan earthquake. The film's images—"composed in form; raw in subject"—looped in his mind along with the radio reports, becoming inseparable. As if to enforce the resonance, he placed production stills from Still Life alongside photographs from The New York Times coverage of the damage in Sichuan.It's perhaps best that Max's Text of Light entry went up after my San Francisco International Film Festival 75-words hold review. Including it there might have tipped the balance.Yerba Buena Center for the Arts has now officially announced the local premieres of Jia Zhang-ke's newest films—Dong (2006) and Useless (2007)—screening June 5 and June 8. Dong ("east" in Mandarin) is the companion piece to Still Life, in which Jia "beautifully explores the possibilities of documenting life and art." With the Three Gorges serving as a stunning backdrop, Jia follows Liu Xiao-dong—one of China's leading painters—as he paints two portraits: one of laborers at the Three Gorges dam and one of young female models in Bangkok. "As with much of his other work, Jia examines fantasy, landscape and the underlying realities of ordinary people caught in a whirlwind of rapid change."Useless examines the "spiritual life" of the Chinese clothing industry—the largest exporter of garments in the world. "First an assembly line in Canton, where under the thunderous noise of sewing machines women work silently. Next we meet acclaimed Chinese designer Ma Ke, launching her handmade anti-fashion clothing line in Paris. Finally we spend a dusty afternoon in Fenyang in a tiny tailor's shop."And just when it seems San Francisco had belatedly caught up to Jia's output, along come the reports from the recently-wrapped Cannes Film Festival—compiled by Dave Hudson at The Greencine Daily—that 24 City evocatively continues Jia Zhang-ke's concern with the onslaught of change in China. Echoing Max Goldberg, Anthony Kaufman dispatched to indieWIRE that "Jia's poetic vision of demolition and progress takes on disturbing new resonances after the recent earthquake that killed thousands of people in the same area where the film takes place. One has to wonder whether 24 City, the high-rise luxury apartment complex that has replaced Factory 420, is still standing."San Franciscans should keep their fingers crossed that 24 City will be included in YBCA's Jia Zhang-ke retrospective scheduled for their 2008-2009 program (dates to be announced). The retrospective falls under the calendar year's topical aegis "Imagining Our Future." Imagining the unknowable and driven by a sense of urgency about the future, Jia Zhang-ke's oeuvre deals with themes of youth, contemporary Chinese history and globalization, with a minimal yet realistic aesthetic. His work speaks to a vision of "authentic" Chinese life, and his consistent return to the themes of alienation and disorientation fly in the face of the work of older filmmakers who present more idealized understandings of Chinese society.As mentioned earlier in my interview with YBCA film programmer Joel Shepard, YBCA will further their focus on Chinese film with a September residency of radical documentary filmmaker Wang Bing, whose work examines China's past in an attempt to understand its future. Fearlessly delving into buried chapters of China's communist history and shattering the boundaries placed around personal memory, his latest film—Fengming, A Chinese Memoir—is being heralded as a remarkable cinematic hybrid. At once a devastating portrait of an era, a conceptual art piece and a fateful love story, Fengming is a riveting confessional by a woman who survived the horrors of Mao's China.Source

LL Cool J releases clothing line for Sears

LL Cool J will be releasing a clothing line specifically for the Sears department store clothing line will not be under his Todd Smith line but rather will be called the creative name of LL Cool J for Sears. Line will include casual wear for juniors, young men and women and a women's line as well and will be priced at $20-$50. LL had the following to say about his new venture with Sears and women's clothing... "I was raised by a matriarch, I have a wife and three daughters, so I know what women are looking for when they shop for clothes," he said. "My main concern with juniors is to make sure the fit is right. The fabrics have to feel nice on a woman's body, but sizing and fit are very important. I know that if she comes in, puts it on and it doesn't fit, she won't come back. Clothes have to make a woman feel good, relaxed and sexy. We are going to be constantly looking at fine-tuning the fit and we'll get it right."Via: HipHop DXSource

neige clothing

Reader, Alexa wrote in to tell me about Neigeclothing. She's purchased several pieces for her daughter and wanted to share. The designer of Neige used to work for Vera Wang which I think is pretty evident from the simple, understated style of all the clothes. So darling! {photo from Tiny McSmall} Source

Lily Allen feels comfortable topless sunbathing

In Europe, it is so normal to go topless sunbathing. For instance in Spain all of the beaches are topless and some of the best beaches are nude beaches.There is a singer named Lily Allen. I hate to show my age, but I am not familiar with her work. I guess though she is very popular.She was at the Cannes Film festival and was filmed topless sunbathing. The British Tabloid press made a big deal about it. Actually, I think it would have been more abnormal if Lily Allen was not topless sunbathing. As Sienna Miller the actress once said, it would be weird not to topless sunbathe at the beach in Europe.This weekend Lily Allen responded to the paparazzi in her myspace site about her topless sunbathing.Here is what she wrote:"ps . I don't really like to respond to things I read about my self in the press but , for the record I was not thrown off anybodys yacht in Cannes , occasionally I drink wine with lunch and yes i swim topless , this in my book is not embarrassing behaviour I'm 23 years old it's not my fault if photographers follow me everywhere and need a story to print with their pointless pictures ... I am not some failed baby making machine desperately to trying to win my man back .... It's all so sexist , i wonder how many of these male journos , had bought themselves a house by the time they were 23. I work very hard"So Lily, next time you are in Southern California and you want to go topless sunbathing in a nice safe environment, feel free giving us a call at 1-800-786-6938. We have celebrities from time to time and we never contact the paparazzi.Also, even if you aren't a celebrity, we will treat you like one. When you want a nice relaxing, fun vacation where you can go nude or topless sunbathing, give us The Terra Cotta Inn clothing optional resort and spa a call at 800-786-6938. Visit our site at http://sunnyfun.comHope to see you in sunny Palm Springs!Source

The power of nudist resorts blogs

Earlier today I posted an article about 4 nudist resorts that had placed google ads on our name Terra Cotta Inn. We average from 3000-4000 people per day visiting this nudist blog.Yes, when you typed Terra Cotta Inn, their ads appeared.Now I know we are the most popular nudist resort in Palm Springs. I actually took it as a compliment that they felt that they were reduced to hoping for our over flow when we are sold out.I pointed out how it was tasteless and tacky to advertise on competitors names. I mentioned how other hotels likes Marriotts, Ritz Carltons, had class and didn't advertise on their competitors names. Same is true in the auto industry, computer, and airline industries that I looked up. All very competitive industries and all showed class. I guess only a few nudists lacked class.I named names. Well, they have all take their ads off of our name Terra Cotta Inn.Because they took their ads off, I have deleted that post. I never have time to google what ads are on our name. I will now.If you want to vacation at the most popular nudist resort in Palm Springs, give us, The Terra Cotta Inn clothing optional resort and spa a call at 800-786-6938. Visit our site at http://sunnyfun.comHope to see you in sunny Palm Springs!Source

Rachel Ray and the keffiyeh incident.

Culture: LGF and Malkin pointed out the Dunkin Donuts print ad with what seems to be Rachel Ray wearing the keffiyeh which is associated with Yasser Arafat and a symbol of middle east terrorism and groups. I am iffy about it as it does look like a keffiyeh but not exactly like the ones Arafat and others wear. But what is annoying is the intellectual dishonesty from some liberals who seem to think this is nothing but noise. The keffiyeh has indeed been associated with the intifada, and with former Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat. But its history as an item of clothing in the Arab world -- and a fashion accessory here in the West -- predates that. For a 2007 column in Canada's National Post, a conservative paper, Karen Burshtein turned to Ted R. Swedenburg, a professor of anthropology at the University of Arkansas who lectures on pop culture in the Middle East, for his expertise. "Historically, the keffiyeh was an unremarkable, very conventional clothing customarily worn over the head by Palestinian and other Arabs to protect their head and sometimes their faces from the elements -- wind, sun and cold," Swedenburg said. "Then Arafat wore the black-and-white, which was very mainstream, and it became associated with the current Palestinian situation. But to say it is a symbol of terrorism is to say that all Palestinians are terrorists." Surely Johnson would never imply that. ? Alex KoppelmanProblem with this logic is completely ignoring that items/symbols can have their association changed over time due to certain events, people or groups such as the Swastika that until the Nazis adopted it in the early 1920s meant something good for certain groups. So the keffiyeh may have been an unremarkable piece of clothing before but now it symbolizes something else.Source

Israel

deililly : "Does anyone else thing this guy looks like King Rameses?"
deililly : "There's going to be cloth and wind machines for this one - and possibly loss of clothing too"
f4f3 : "Not liking him"
unblinkered : He's going to the glowy eye thing any minute.
Mhairi : Would you like to see my staff weapon?
deililly : It's becoming West Side Story!
f4f3 : We signed up for national service, and they sent us here!
Meurig : They went through quite a lot of people before they found someone who'd rather do this than be shot at.
Source