Enjoyed further as I placed order for some camisoles, capri and summer dress just before I wrote this. Hope they turn out fine.

Total damage is A$140+. =P

Wachovia settles with OCC for $144M

Philadelphia Business Journal 

The story begins when martial arts student Leroy Green (Taimak) captures a blue arrow that his Master shot at him. His Master informs him that by doing so he has reached the final level and his training is now complete. Leroy is not convinced because he did not have "The Glow". Uh-oh, I smell a quest coming up. His Master tells him that there is a new emptiness to be filled, a new journey that he must make alone.

Leroy begins his journey to find "The Glow". His first stop is the movie theater to take in Enter the Dragon. Yeah, I don't get it either but this was my favorite scene. Not only does it have the legendary Bruce Lee flick playing in the background but it introduces the funniest guy in the movie. The meanest, the prettiest, the baddest mofo lowdown around this town, Sho'Nuff . The self-proclaimed Shogun of Harlem, pimped out football pads and all, is out to challenge Leroy for total martial arts supremacy in Harlem. I never pictured Harlem as a hotbed for martial arts but according to this movie, in the 80's they were serious about it.

Sho and his hoods bring the craziness and confront Bruce Leroy. Leroy leaves, as the theater erupts in chaos. This does not please Sho'Nuff who threatens to find him and beat him up, I guess.

Introducing bad guy number two, Eddie Arkadian (I love that name) the video game king who wants his artist, Angela Virocco(Faith Prince), featured on the hottest dance show on television; 7th Heaven which is hosted by the lovely Laura Charles (Vanity). I think Vanity is very pretty but all that hair makes her look a little werewolfish.

After being rejected by Laura, Arkadian sends his hoods after her. A crappy fight breaks out and Laura and Leroy meet for the first time. Awww. He saves her but loses his precious medallion. His little brother, Richie, who is borderline annoying helps him meet Laura again to retrieve his medallion. He of course ends up saving her, again... and again and I think one more time after the end credits rolled.

Anyway, Arkadian drafts more, meaner hoods and even Sho'Nuff to take out Leroy. Leroy is going to have his hands full. Thank goodness he has a pleathora of Bruce Lee movies to help him figure out what to do. I know Chinese Connection helped me get through some tough times. Will Leroy find "The Glow" or will the combined forces of Sho'Nuff and Eddie Arkadian finally put an end to him and his journey? Unless you're a humorless pessimist or can't see the picture on the left you know the answer.

All and all I loved this movie. It's exciting, funny, and there is no need for deep thought. Pure fluff. The music is a terrific throwback to the 80's. It's Motown how could it not be? Just sit back and enjoy. The DVD features Director's Commentary, Bonus Trailers, Filmographies and it's subbed in seven different languages.

Total: $738.85
My checking account balance: $1.31

Qifa's email included the link to a story in Saturday's Al Akhbar, an opposition-friendly newspaper that had covered the auction. (For those of you less wrapped up in Lebanese politics than some of us: the Ministry's new head, Gibran Bassil, is a member of one of the opposition parties. Before he became minister, the Telecomm Ministry did ... nothing. Absolutely nothing. So the question is now: is the new minister able to push through so many changes because he is so much better than his predecessor, or because the opposition blocked these changes when a majority-party minister was in power? The answer, of course, depends on one's political leanings :).)

For those of you who read Arabic, here is the link to Akhbar's article. For those of you who do not, here I am as your cheerful translator!

According to the article, 32 "vacant distinguished numbers, of the platinum type" were sold at Friday's auction, reaping more than $2,516,000. That's a huge amount - an average of $78,625 per number. While I'm shocked that the auction actually drew so much money - and for "70" numbers! - I'm also amused by the paper's description of them as "distinguished". In Arabic, the word "distinguished" is used all the time to describe diplomatic ties: countries are often described as having "distinguished relations" with one another, and government ministers and heads of state send "distinguished greetings" to one another on holidays and birthdays. And apparently these distinguished figures need equally distinguished mobile numbers :).

The article suggests that this auction represents a "dangerous culture of consumption" developing in Lebanese society reminiscent of "what has happened in the Gulf". I'm not sure that consumption culture generally can be blamed on the Gulf - after all, Lebanese were busily buying imported products when today's Gulf states were still British protectorates - but certainly the license plate and mobile number auctions seem to have taken off there first.

Curious to know who made the winning bids on some of these numbers, and how much they paid? Al Akhbar and I are here to help.

Roughly 110 people signed up to participate in the auction - people Akhbar described un-euphemistically as "wealthy" Lebanese. But only 13 of them left with lightened wallets and new numbers - meaning that several went home with multiple purchases.

Bilal Bunduqji, one of the owners of the Petit Cafe restaurants, paid $855,000 for nine numbers (that's an average of $95,000 per number). One of them, 70 77 77 77, cost the lion's share: $400,000.

Salman Al Rayyes paid $450,000 for 70 70 70 70.

Muna Abou Hadeer paid $400,000 for 70 70 00 00, as well as $42,000 for another (unspecified) number.

Wadia Al Abssi (now there's an eye-raising last name) purchased five numbers for a total of $142,000.

Bilal Bou Khalid purchased three numbers for a total of $81,000.

Sajad Khan bought four numbers for a total of $80,000.

Kamel Amhaz purchased one number for $170,000.

Mustapha al-Shabb purchased two numbers for a total of $69,000.

Zein al-Atat purchased two numbers for a total of $42,000.

Manal al-Ramah purchased one number for $40,000.

Ibrahim Qabalan purchased one number for $27,000.

Fouad Bou Khazen purchased one number for $80,000.

Karl Kassab purchased one number for $30,000.

According to the paper, the revenues raised from this auction are to be used for the "improvement of rural services" - meaning rural telephone services, I think. Let's hope that they are put to good use - and let's hope that the lucky 13 auction winners are all happy with their purchases. (I frequently suffer from buyer's remorse, even on small purchases - so I say this sympathetically.) Akhbar's article ends with a quote from Bunduqji, who sounds pretty happy about his purchases. He's planning to flip the numbers and sell them at a profit to khaleejis and other foreigners.

So: if you hail from the Gulf or anywhere else in the world and you are looking for a pretty number, dial +961 70 70 70 70 and ask the nice man who answers what he has for sale.

The petals are so soft,
And your scent is so sweet.
Why would we think
That you’re nothing but a treat?

Your blood red blossoms,
More beauty comes at each dawn.
How such splendor grows
To make us forget the thorns.

Budding in your green castle,
Yet seeming delicate and frail.
While all around you
Other flowers’ beauty pales.

Unfurling your fake petals,
Blooming with your lie…
I’m glad, little red rose,
That you will wither and die.

The evidence of the long term effects of ‘youngest child syndrome’ can be seen in the fact that I still believe I deserve to be spoiled and praised much too often.  If I wasn’t so vain I’d be perfect!

My son Joseph seems to have been some kind of genetic accident, only taking his DNA profile from his dad.  He is a chip off the old block, the spit from my mouth, my mini-me, my clone.  My hope is that being the joint eldest (he is a twin) he will escape my syndrome and turn out to be more humble… an improved version… my 2.0.  (then I will be perfect!)

I remember thinking I was destined for great things.  As a teenager especially I thought I had been put on this planet to be a great leader, a sage, an authority… a sex symbol.  Then adulthood came and evidence began to gather that this wasn’t likely to happen and that “the chances” were weighed against me.  Just one visit to London made me realise how many people are on this damn planet!

Since their birth I have always thought of Blogs as vain.  I think they have youngest child syndrome too. People related to them think they’re cute and entertaining… and so are inevitably praised much too often.  The rest of us think they’re vain little brats.  I recently attended a digital conference in The Sage Newcastle, and listened to a talk given by a famous blogger.  This guy had managed to successfully transfer his audience from his childhood living room to online.  His talk was entertaining enough but I couldn’t help feeling blogs were created for this kind of guy.  For our kind.

Welcome to my blog. 

Now I start over.

Let me re-introduce myself.

Here I am: Conflicted Cupcake in 101 quick facts.

(100) My favorite Disney movie is Sleeping Beauty.
(99) I am easily bored at museums, but get much pleasure out of amusement parks.
(98) I love to read.
(97) I can’t walk into a bookstore without buying a book. I think it is physically impossible for me.
(96) I want to own my own used bookstore. A quirky one that people will remember.
(95) I want to write a novel that I never see in my *used* bookstore. People will want to keep my book.
(94) I hate onions.
(93) I secretly liked the movie Crossroads.
(92) I not so secretly really rock out to Britney Spears.
(91) I want a tattoo but I’m too chickenshit.
(90) My tongue is pierced.
(89) My favorite perfume is Ralph Lauren Romance... except that I always forget to wear any perfume at all.
(88) I love the color pink.
(87) I have a daughter. She's gorgeous.
(86) I’m needy. I’m always looking for confirmation that I’m an okay person.
(85) I’m terrified of ever having a little boy because I have no idea of how to raise one.
(84) I have never seen an episode of 90210 - old or new.
(83) I don’t really like dogs. They’re okay… but cats are way better.
(82) Buying shoes is an addiction.
(81) I would sleep with Johnny Depp in a heartbeat.
(80) I think Marilyn Monroe is one the most fascinating people that ever lived.
(79) I collect anything with Marilyn on it. Books… purses… posters, everything.
(78) Leopard print is the bomb.
(77) I still use out-dated sayings like “the bomb.”
(76) My mom died when I was 14 years old from breast cancer.
(75) I don’t do regular self-exams because I’m terrified of what I might find.
(74) I’m an internet junkie and don’t really care that people think I’m a geek because of it.
(73) I won't watch scary movies because they piss me off with the whole being scary thing.
(72) I hate talking on the phone.
(71) People annoy me. Most of the time, I’d rather read a book.
(70) My birthday is August 5th. I’m a LEO.
(69) I still smirk when I hear 69 because I’m just that mature.
(68) I own a New Kids On The Block Greatest Hits CD and am going to see them on their current tour.
(67) I love techno music and country. And rock and pop. I like everything.
(66) Driving in downtown Vancouver scares the crap out of me.
(65) My favorite ice cream is either Half-Baked by Ben and Jerry’s or Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. But Double Fudge Brownie is up there, too…
(65) I’d rather have potato chips than chocolate on most days.
(64) I adore big chunky necklaces, but like perfume, forget to wear them.
(63) I wish my boobs were smaller.
(62) I wasn’t a big hockey fan until I moved to Canada, now I cheer on the Vancouver Canucks whole-heartedly.
(61) I once had a pet bird that I named Meow. I thought I was being cute. I was just being lame.
(60) I miss riding horses.
(59) I want to own my own horse.
(58) I collect cool advertisements from magazines.
(57) I think Jennifer Crusie is a goddess.
(56) I can quote Princess Bride in its entirety.
(55) My hair is really really frizzy.
(54) I have to sleep with a light on after reading a scary book. Yet I continue to read them.
(53) My best friend lives approximately 3500 miles from me. That's too far.
(52) Eclectic is my favorite word.
(51) I can’t stand George W. Bush.
(50) I think my dad is one of the most amazing men on the planet.
(49) Prozac Nation is one of my favorite books and was long before they started making a movie of it.
(48) I’m a book snob- I don’t like books after they become too popular, eg. Practical Magic, Harry Potter.
(47) My favorite board game is Cranium.
(46) I love to play Crib.
(45) I suck at all video games except for Sonic The Hedgehog from Sega.
(44) I think they should bring Bubble Bobble back for XBox.
(43) I can no longer say that I hate all reality TV because I’m addicted to The Amazing Race and Survivor.
(42) I hate any reality TV show that makes a mockery of marriage and peoples’ relationships.
(41) I’m a cheap drunk.
(40) I asked a friend to describe me in one word and he said, “Kind.”
(39) I laugh when other people trip on the sidewalk. But not out loud. How kind am I now?
(38) I was a staffer on Compuserve’s YDrive back in the day.
(37) I can sleep for insanely long periods of time.
(36) I really want to go to Australia. In particular, Kangaroo Island ONLY because it is named Kangaroo Island.
(35) My favorite holiday is the 4th of July.
(34) I’m American but I’m living in Canada with my Canadian husband. In case you were confused.
(33) I love being on the water. One day, I will own a boat.
(32) I took a photography class in highschool and loved it. I would love to have a darkroom to work in.
(31) I drink about a million cans of pop a day.
(30) I will do anything for a back rub.
(29) I still have a stained glass project that I made in high school.
(28) When I about a year old, still sleeping in a crib, I reached through the bars and had a hey-day with the baby powder that was within reach. I have the pictures to prove it.
(27) I had to go to speech therapy in grade school because I couldn’t say anything with a “th” or an “r” or a “ch” very well. I still have a hard time with words like worm.
(26) I’m really not as big of a dork as this list makes me sound.
(25) I hate coffee. But I wish I could like it.
(24) I lost my virginity to a guy named Huckleberry.
(23) I adore Christina Aguilera.
(22) I went knee-boarding once and almost drowned. That was 10 years ago. I haven’t done it since but I think it might be about time to try again.
(21) I can’t stand being cold. I think summer should be a permanent season.
(20) I love getting mail.
(19) I hate making idle chit-chat with the hairdresser. Just shut up and cut my hair already.
(18) I love to give people compliments. It makes people happy and it makes me happy in turn.
(17) When I get really depressed, all I want to do is sleep.
(16) I’m indecisive. Don’t ever ask me to make an important decision on the spot. It’ll be bad news.
(15) I want to drive a red Volkswagon bug with black spots on it with a customized license plate that says “Lady B”
(14) I used to drive a VW SuperBeetle that was named, “The Little Bugga That Could.” She had a hard time on steep hills.
(13) I cry every time I watch “My Girl.”
(12) I cry every time I read any of Nicholas Evans’ books. The Horse Whisperer, The Loop, and The Smoke Jumper and The Divide are his titles.
(11) I can’t believe how insanely difficult it is to come up with 100 things about yourself.
(10) Seattle, where I used to live, is my favorite city in the world.
(09) I’m incredibly amused by the local news stations’ helicopter, “Chopper9.” You have to say it really fast like Molly Shannon from SNL would. Chopper9.
(08) I think Buffy The Vampire Slayer was one of the greatest shows to ever be on TV.
(07) I used to take kickboxing classes.
(06) I own more than 5 pairs of flip-flops.
(05) I sing in the car. Loudly. Badly.
(04) I will NEVER sing karaoke. No matter how drunk I am.
(03) I don’t get mad very often but when I do? It’s NOT pretty.
(02) I love Denny’s cheese fries with ranch. Mmmm.
(01) I may live in Canada, but shoot me if I ever say, “Eh.”

Mirror-Mirror on the wall...who’s not the fairest of them all? ...how come nobody ever asks that question? Because they know they’ll get the ugly truth. For certain if they’re sitting in front of a magic mirror asking about beauty, they cannot be the fairest of anyone at all. For “fairest” means that how is wholly pure, and that we know is no one. But those fools don’t understand that they are being deceived, the mirror only shows them what they want to see.

For many nights I stood in the corner of the darkly lit room, watching her sit in front of the beautiful vanity desk. Some nights she’d ask, some she’d simply stare. The nightly ritual almost made me want to run out and retch; it made me sick to my stomach. And afterwards she would turn to me, to play a game of cards, like nothing was out place but everything was, and then everything is.

One certain night the moon was high in the sky, sending through the windows ghostly silver lines of raw beauty. I stood in my corner by the bed again, surveying the celestial room. Slowly, I raised my fingers and caught the moonlight on my fair skin. Raw, natural beauty...

The door slowly creaked open, allowing her to enter the dark chamber. She paid no regards to me, simply rushed towards the ebony vanity desk and sat. ‘Please...’ she whispered brokenly.

Pity. She’ll never know the truth if she keeps looking through glass. She’ll never see the world the way I do, never catch beauty in a silken strand of a moonlight beam—only though the shard of a mirror. She sat there, staring, hoping for an answer. Tonight I break the ritual she’s carefully pieced together for months on end. Slowly I walk to her. ‘Mirror-mirror on the wall,’ I whisper. ‘Whose not the fairest of them all?’

Her eyes widen. She looks from me to the mirror to her pale shaking hands. ‘What do you see?’ I prompt.

Reluctance dances in her eyes. ‘You...’ she whispers. ‘And me.’

Nodding, I walk towards the heavy door and slip out, becoming a part of the fair night, cloaked in darkness. As I wind on down the path, my shadow the proud ghost of my past, I hear a loud crash and a blood-curdling wail. Mirror-mirror on the wall who will never be fairest of anything at all?

 Us. Always us.

© Sadiya 10-3-08

When does concern to look my best become sinful? Should I be interested in fashion?  When does personal expression cross the line into conceit? Is godliness outwardly unattractive? In other words, do I have to be frumpy to be godly?

I wrestled with my answers to these questions fifteen years ago. In high school, if you had asked my friends what career path I was following, they would have answered, "fashion design." I designed and sewed dresses for schoolmates. I spent hours feasting on couture. My room was stacked with every issue of Vogue for six years. I adored beauty. I worshiped the attention I drew being fashion forward. In college, as I grew in my relationship with Christ, these two passions began to conflict with each other. Out of this struggle, three guiding principles emerged.

Does how I spend my time, money and effort emphasize my appearance or knowing God?

Woman is concerned about her appearance, but God is concerned with her heart. When the Bible contrasts the inner woman with the outer woman, the emphasis is always inward. To be like God then, our emphasis should be inward. He says:

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. (1 Peter 3:3-4)

Honestly, this verse used to terrify me! But that fear revealed where I placed my value. I valued my outward appearance, stylish hair and a cutting-edge wardrobe. My value system needed a makeover.

I find the dual definition of vanity ironic. Vanity is excessive concern about one's appearance. Vanity can also mean a lack of real value. The irony is that the same word reveals that excessive concern for your looks is worthless...vanity is vanity! Why is this? Because outward beauty fades. It does not last.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. (Pr 31:30)

It is common sense to put your time, effort and money into something of value. Outward appearance has limited value. Investing instead in your spiritual "image" returns an eternal reward. For me, re-adjusting my values meant severing my affair with fashion and re-focusing that passion into something with more worth.

For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come. (1 Tim 4:8) So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:18)

Amazingly, a vibrant relationship with God is consuming. It leaves little time and energy to fret about missing a life of outer beauty.

Do I trust that wisdom, kindness and gentleness is attractive?

Another irony of my struggle with vanity is that the more I worked to be outwardly beautiful, the uglier I became. In my quest to be a fashionista, I was becoming an opinionated and critical loudmouth. I was the proverbial pig wearing lipstick. A good looking, obnoxious woman is a farce.

Does this mean I want to be unattractive? No! I still want to be recognized and honored as beautiful. But I have come to believe that the kind of attractiveness I desire results from inner traits of character, not outward appearance. I am more attractive as a gracious woman than as a stylish snob.

Wisdom brightens a (wo)man's face
and changes its hard appearance. (Ecc 8:1)

A kindhearted woman gains respect. (Proverbs 11:16)

She is clothed with strength and dignity. (Proverbs 31:25)

A woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. (Proverbs 31:30)

The unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit... is of great worth in God's sight. (1 Peter 3:4)

Does my outward appearance hinder or help others understand the gospel of Christ?

The goal of how you look should be others focused, not self-focused. Do you dress nice to please your husband or to make yourself feel good and get noticed? Do you find yourself wondering if others think you are fat or too thin or un-stylish? Does your outward appearance make you more approachable? Maybe you should spend more time styling your hair and learning how to apply make-up so that it is easier for others to look at you!

Honestly, I crave attention. I have often used my appearance to satisfy my own desire to have people notice me. But that often gets in the way of them noticing Christ. In my life, fashion was a hindrance. I have enough rough edges for people to overlook, I didn't want to make a "cool" exterior another barrier for them to overcome to hear the message of Christ. Today, I try to use my appearance as a tool to make my persona more approachable. I don't want to turn people away because I intimidate them by looking too weird, too stylish ... or too frumpy.

I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him. (Philippians 3:8-9a)

Is your effort at looking good helping or hindering the spread of the gospel? Do you work as hard at being nice as looking nice?

Bakit kasi kelangan lahat ng mangyayari nakasalalay sa kampay ng pakpak ng Butterfly?

Bakit may mga tao na hindi matatanggap ang opinyon mo, kesyo mas learned at mas magaling daw sila?

Bakit yung iba, walang pakiramdam, kumikilos mag-isa at nagpa-plano mag-isa nang hindi iniisip kung ano ang pwedeng mangyari sa kapwa nila?

Bakit walang English equivalent ang salitang "kapwa?"

Nadudurog ako Chikadora. Loh-ser.

I scored (among more):
%90 vain
%83 paranoid AND intellectual
%70 hypersensitive AND individual AND dependant
%76 avoidant

trait snapshot:
messy, disorganized, not rule conscious, rebellious, rash, weird, ambivalent about chaos, likes bizarre things, anti-authority, not good at saving money, not a perfectionist, leaves many things unfinished, low self control, strange, desires more attention, romantic daydreamer, abstract, impractical, unproductive, leisurely, likes the unknown

EXACTLY 2 years later, I've retaken the test to see how differently I fare.
It was not a nice response.. (j ^j) shit am I really that bad? This time around the scores are definitely worse sounding.

Avoidant 90%
Artistic 83%
Intellectual 78%
Anti-authority & Cautiousness & Paranoia 70%
Vanity 63%

trait snapshot:
messy, irritable, depressed, fragile, worrying, emotionally sensitive, does not like to lead, phobic, weird, suspicious, low self control, paranoid, frequently second guesses self, dependent, unproductive, introverted, weak, strange, unassertive, submissive, familiar with the dark side of life, feels invisible, rash, vain, anti-authority, heart over mind, low self concept, disorganized, not good at saving money, avoidant, daydreamer, unadventurous

What in the pimply fake bake hell is going on with Catherine Zeta-Jones' face?!?
Bitch's skin is all kinds of busted!

CZJ and Michael "The Crypt Keeper" Douglas were at the Global Leadership Awards Gala in New York City Wednesday night and, evidently, she thought it was a costume party ... a Halloween costume party because she came made up as 'Clown Catherine of the Land of Giant Pore'.

The only saving grace is that the shine coming off her skin is so intense it could actually temporarily blind innocent onlookers.
::: look away :::

Well, we hope it did.
::: look awaaayyyy!!!!! :::

Every year, I am so amazed by the women who find the courage to speak about their personal stories. The event, for those who've never attended, features a Speak Out where women gather and share very personal experiences they've had with sexual and domestic violence. Every year, I muster the courage to speak and then I fall apart. But, in a strange way, organizing this event helped me deal. Oh, and we did have a protester there- some dude protesting drug laws. I have no idea what this had to do with rape and I'm guessing he wandered into the wrong event.

Thanks to all those in Bloomington who came out and supported us.

-Indira

Bukod pa rito, inabutan din ng bagyong Pablo.

Itinaas na ang Signal #2 sa kalakhang Maynila.

Malamig.

Malakas ang ulan.

Wala akong payong.

Try nating magmatapang.

Spotlight.

Lakad hanggang Esguerra.

Lingon sa Quezon Avenue.

Hinatak ako ng Hi-Top Supermarket!

Hazy na ang aking paningin. Bukod sa mahigit 15 oras na akong gising, nababalot na ng hamog at patak ng ulan ang antipara ko.

Sugod pa rin.

Salakayin ang EDSA kahit ang dala kong groceries ay umabot sa mahigit 10 libras.

Masarap magpaulan. Lalo pa't pagtingin mo sa paligid ay ikaw lang ang walang payong.

"Syaks, ang bangs ko! Nababasa!"

Granite is the the surface of choice for high-end applications. It isn't very expensive and it will provide a look that is incomparable for beauty and elegance. Prices may vary from $36 and up depending which color you like.

If you are considering granite counter tops you should know that granite comes from the ground. There is no Epoxy, plastic or any Chemicals add to it. 100% Natural.

Granite, Marble and all Natural Stones are very unique.

During the years men has tried to imitate the looks of natural stones, but its not possible, don't settle for imitations.

Engineered stone is man-made stone. Solid Surface is a plastic material (Epoxy).Prices may vary from $64 and up... Enginneer stone is a mixture of 93% quartz and 7% resin binders and pigments.

The term “engineered stone” is used to describe the combination of natural stone with other materials that are processed together to form the final product. The stone material is typically in aggregate or crushed form and is held together by a resin binder. The combination is processed under heat and pressure to compact the materials together and remove porosity. The end result is a hard, stone-like product that has all of the good characteristics of stone without the drawbacks.

If this all sounds too technical, think of it as crushed stone that’s combined with a ‘glue’ and baked in a pan. That may be an oversimplification but it may help in understanding the basic concepts of what it is and how it’s made.
Some manufacturers don’t use the term “engineered stone” and refer to their product by the type of stone used. In truth, the stone material does make up the major percentage of the end product however it’s still combined with other materials and is not the same as a solid piece of granite or marble.

While some come close, the engineered stone products can’t replicate the true look of natural stone. Natural stone has a variability and beauty that makes each slab unique which is difficult to achieve with the engineered products. This is really a personal preference since some people want a consistent pattern on their countertops.

For earrings I was able to solve this problem a long time ago. I cannot remember where I got the idea, but I saw someone take one of those plastic crossstich boards and weave ribbon around the edges and tie it at the top. I think they turn out pretty cute and you can do almost any color combo you want to. These also make great gifts for girls who just got their ears pierced. I need to update mine to match our bathroom colors, but you still get the idea...

The necklace delimma was not so easy for me to solve. Out of sight - out of mind has always been a problem for me when it comes to accessorizing. In college I would put tacks inside my cabinet doors and I remembered more often, but still wasn't wearing ALL my neclaces because I would forget when I was wearing an outfit that matched a certain neclace. But it was the best solution to date so when I moved in with my hubby in January, I was going to do the same thing in our apartment but the tacks would NOT go into the cabinet doors without breaking off. So after some thought (and untangling a mass of cords, beads, and chains because in the move i tucked my neclaces into an old makeup bag) I took a cork board and put thumb tacks in... only to see my idea oneup-ed in a magazine this month :( oh well - at least I'm semi-creative, right? Well they took a cute piece of fabric and covered the cork and THEN stuck in the push-tacks. I don't have fabric, but my neclaces, bracelets (all 2 of them) and my rings are out on display all the time and I wear one EVERYDAY now! I love it!

Anyway, the show was about knowing how to ask for help. Swallowing your pride and accepting the help that others offer. It was a great episode, I believe from the fifth season. A bunch of people in town were in situations where they needed a little (or a lot) outside help, and they were eventually able to see past their own pride to either ask for or accept assistance from others.

Having a brain injury (even a "mild" one) that leaves traces of impairment can be devastating, in and of itself. All of a sudden, things don't work the way they really should (I'm not going to pretend that I think my memory issues and emotional volatility and mood problems and cognitive issues are absolutely okay -- they're really problematic, at times, and a lot of the time, my life would very likely be a lot less complicated, if I had all the functionality available to me, had I not been hit on the head so many times). All of a sudden, the world gets turned upside-down, and very little seems to work like it once did. It can really lay a person low, losing faculties and abilities that you used to once take for granted. And it can really do a job on you, when your difficulties are not immediately apparent to others, but you're dealing with them, all the same.

Things like slower cognitive processing -- figuring out what someone just said to you and how you should respond... constant crazy-making ringing in your ears... wild mood swings and sudden temper outbursts... sleep disturbances... the whole raft of issues and challenges that can accompany mTBI, may be well-hidden from the outside world, but that doesn't make them any less real or any less difficult to deal with.

Things get even more complicated by the fact that it's your brain that's been affected. It makes it harder to figure out just WHAT is going wrong, and how, and when, and what you'd like to do/see/feel/experience instead of what's going on inside and around you. It can make it harder to even see that there IS something wrong, and you can spend a lot of time (like I did, for several years after my last fall) walking through the world in a kind of daze, wondering what they hell is wrong with you and why you're having so many problems with such simple things.

That's where help from other people comes in. That's where assistance offered from others really comes in handy. I've had years and years of experience dealing with my head injuries, and much of that time has been spent trying to go it alone and do things myself. I'll do it myself! was my battle cry for most of my life, especially during childhood. It was so hard for me to figure out what was going wrong, what the cause was, and what should be done about things, that conceptualizing it in a way I could explain to others -- and then effectively communicating it to others -- was an almost insurmountable task. So, I ended up taking on a lot by myself, and I really muddled through my life, one day after another... for decades.

But when I finally started to put two and two together, and I realized that many, many of my difficulties could be traced back to my head injuries -- my behavior and my life experience changed dramatically either immediately after the injuries, or they went downhill very precipitously within months -- it became all the more clear to me that I did need help. That I had limitations. That there are parts of me that don't function the way I want/need them to. And that I couldn't go it alone anymore.

So, I started asking for help. In small ways, then building up to larger and larger ones. I have to admit, I still have a lot of trouble at times asking for help, in part because of my pride, in part because I sometimes have a really difficult time knowing whom to ask and what to ask for. But I am learning that if someone offers me help, it's often best to accept. And not only for my sake -- for the sake of others, as well.

Asking for and accepting help isn't just for you. It's not just for me. It's not just for the benefit of the person who needs assistance. It's for the person who wants to help, too. It's for the person who sees another human being in need, and wants to reach out and lighten their burden. It's for the person who longs to make a valuable contribution to life, who longs to pitch in, who longs to be of use. I'm one such person -- I love to help other people, and I love to contribute to their well-being. It's been that way all my life, and I've actually gotten in trouble for being "too helpful".

Helping others is a need I have. It's a need I feel compelled to fill. And I know for a fact that others share that same need. We want to be valued. We want to be included. We want to be part of the solution and help overcome others' problems. We want to pitch in. We want to be part of something bigger than ourselves. We want to be the best people we can be, by helping others to do the same.

So, accepting help from others doesn't just help me -- it helps them, too. It includes them in my life. It makes them part of something good. We all need that.

So, the next time someone offers you help, whether you've had a TBI or not, please accept their offer (within reason of course). The next time you're struggling, and someone offers to help you out, let them. Let them carry something for you. Let them help you complete something you started. Let them come to your assistance. Let them hold the door open for you. Let them be of use to another human being. When you accept help from another person, you don't make yourself weaker. You make yourself stronger.

And that's how it should be.

After so many years of being a longhair..

I decided to chop it off because the weather is insane.

Nice? I think its VERY nice. :)

Later, as I was heading out to the diner for a bowl of soup, I noticed my foot was tender, making it hard to walk.  When I got home and inspected closer, my foot, also my left, was swollen and I could barely wiggle my toes.  My fever had broken and besides a bit of a lingering cough, I was pretty much over the cold.  So this, this was something new and unforeseen.  From googling, I was able to determine it was some sort of water retention (ew), and even though unlikely, I wasn't ready to rule out gout.  Paranoid I would somehow die in my sleep, the swelling overtaking every part of me like an alien virus, I tried to reconstruct the journey of my illness from Thursday on, noting the symptoms in my Moleskine notebook along with what over-the-counter medicines I'd taken. That way, should I be discovered days later, even the most cut-rate detective would hopefully be able to piece together the clues of my demise.  That's me, always thinking ahead. I attempted to sleep with my feet elevated to maybe alleviate the swelling, but as I was also trying to prop my head up to be able to breathe, It was probably moot.

To my horror,  I woke this morning to find my lower lip and chin had ballooned, as puffy and misshapen as if I'd been pummeled in a bar fight or had undergone extensive dental surgery.   I called in to work and managed to wrangle an appointment with my doctor, enduring the ride downtown with the left half of my lip plump as a Vienna sausage, keenly aware I was being studied by my fellow subway riders.

After forty-five minutes in the waiting room, then a modicum of chit-chat in my doctor's inner sanctum, he finally fixed his gaze on my face and asked, "What happened to your lip?"

Well, thank you, that's exactly what I'd like to know!

He listened to my breathing and felt of my swollen feet, jotting copious notes in my file.  Putting my shirt back on,  I caught sight of myself in the mirror and noticed my lip had grown to three times the size it was when I first woke up.

The doctor determined it was some sort of allergic reaction to the blood pressure medicine I'd been taking for the last two months, an angioneurotic edema, I think he called it, but he might've said anal retentive adobe for all I know.   Neither would've made any cognitive sense in the moment.   I just wanted my face and feet to return to their proper size.  He said to stop the medicine I was taking and wrote a prescription for a steroid to deal with the swelling.

I trudged back uptown on the subway, attracting even more stares, and then to the drugstore to fill the Rx.

I popped the first doses of the steroid when I got home and probed my swollen face.  If I were a Hollywood actress of a certain age trying to regain my youthful visage through elective surgery, the tabloids would snidely say I have "trout pout." A veritable Melanie Griffith after an injectables bender.  But even that  would be too kind.  No, it looked as if I'd flown to Mexico for and found some back alley quack to fill me with syringe after syringe of collagen.  My lower lip was so engorged it was positively Jocelyn Wildensteinian, or Amanda Leporian if you prefer.  Pete Burnsian even!

By late this evening I was able to walk without wincing,  my feet having deflated a bit, my lip reduced in fullness to what would be called pleasantly bee stung, as if I used that plumping stuff that was all the rage with the ladies for awhile:  Lip Venom,  or Lip Strychnine,  or Lip Agent Orange, or whatever it's called.

Crisis averted!  Yet, I'm now taking pills to counteract the allergic reaction to the pills I was taking that were supposed to make me healthier, or at least as healthy as I should be for my age. Bah.

And to be honest, while I usually don't like intense physical scrutiny, there was something weirdly powerful about walking around looking like an aberration, a freak freed from the circus, mentally daring strangers to gawk at me, knowing, thankfully, I'd soon be able to blend back in.