Question #1:
Is it wrong to hit a one-year-old child, even if it's a little smack?
I'm friends with a married couple who have a set of twins (a boy and a girl) who have been one year old for at least two months. I'm pretty close with the couple and I spend almost as much time with them as I do my own family, and this means I've been around the kids more than I should. Over the course of this year, I've noticed the boy has developed a habit of taking away anything the girl happens to be holding for his own enjoyment (it started happening the other way around as time went on), and the parents rarely did anything about it until recently when the mother began smacking the kids in their hands whenever they started behaving like this. The boy usually responds by smiling and proceeds to crawl off and find something else, but I've seen the girl look at the mom with a strange sense of confusion and bewilderment (she claims if she doesn't discipline them now, they won't ever learn). There was only one instance where the dad became angry and told the mom to stop hittting his kids, but overall, I've yet to see him say anything about it. And for some reason it's not sitting well with me. Because in my mind, I'm thinking "they're only one year olds, this is normal behavior for babies that doesn't deserve smacking and it shouldn't be made into a big deal", and I'm beginning to have a problem with it happening that makes being in contact with the mom kind of unbearable. But at the same time, I can't tell them how to raise their kids or to even suggest what they're doing is wrong, because they've never been the type of people to take in helpful criticism. But bascially what I'm asking is...is the hitting wrong, or is it something I shouldn't even acknowledge?One other thing...the kids are 14 months old and can barely walk on their own, and the parents are looking into purchasing toddler beds for the kids. Is it my imagination, or is it too soon for them to be doing that?
Question #2:
For all teenagers.( anyone else can answer too). What do you think of my writing?
Dead next to three photos.Part 1.
Mrs. Fatima sat at her chair that stood against the yellow painted wall of the living room. The fan whirred above her, squeaking as it turned from side to side. The door of the room facing her remained closed for two months. To her right side, the kitchen smelt of rot bananas with a cup of coffee lying at the bottom of the sink since her son’s last visit, two weeks ago.
The grey light from the round lamp at the ceiling, gave a mysterious aura to Mrs. Fatima’s brown, wrinkled skin. She clicked the golden ring at the forefinger against her knee, and then raised her head to the ceiling. In her white night dress she looked a like a pride waiting for her lover to return, but a dying pride would be of no use.
She dreaded mirrors. She escaped them, afraid to see how time had misshaped her, leaving nothing of her once charming features. Beauty abandoned her. Her cheekbones stuck out under her green eyes and her nose got longer with the skin flattening at around it. Her teeth went yellow and weaker; her jaw dropped to her neck and stiffened at the edges that she could barely move it up and down to eat.
The reality of change had destroyed her life. Her husband died and her three daughters and son got married and left her to the silence of her apartment. Her body stiffened all over and her back arched forward; the front of her feet swelled. She’d feel like walking on hard wood that broke apart and stuck out, piercing through her skin.
The crying went on for four years, since the death of her husband. But by the beginning of the fifth year, she realized that there was no use. Her tears dried up and she knew that no one would ever care to watch them as they twinkled in the light of the room, falling to the ground. The tears were gone.
No one would hug her when she felt cold; no one would sleep beside her and show her how it felt to be a woman. She wondered, what was the use of pain if no one could see it?
She raised her head to the ceiling and her jaw shook as she tried to talk. “God, can you hear me?” She pressed the wooden handle of the chair. “ I cannot be alone any longer. I wish to die.”
She imagined that by tomorrow morning, Mrs. Dalia her neighbor would keep on knocking but she wouldn’t open for she‘d be dead. The neighbors would break the door and Mrs. Dalia would scream and run to her bed and hug her. She’d talk of how she visited her everyday and how she took care of her, of how she told her of her secrets and how she loved her like a mother.
Some minutes later, someone knocked at the door. Mrs. Fatima pressed her hand against the wooden handle of the chair and got to her feet. Bowing forward, she walked to the door. Her whole body shook and stiffened as she tried to steady herself. “Who’s there?” A raspy voice replied back, “Hussein, Mom.” She pushed back the lock with one finger and the door flung open. The door had newly painted white bars behind which thick, non-transparent glass stood. She could see the shadow of the one knocking, like a ghost, arriving to summon her soul.
The bathroom was so small that you couldn’t have a shower unless you were standing. The shower handle hung right above the toilet with the soap bar resting under it at the tiled floor. After having a quick shower, Hussein peed, wore back his shirt and trousers then went to his mother’s room.
Mrs. Fatima Sat at her bed, her feet crossed in the darkness and her thumbs rolling around each other in illusionary circles. Hussein sat next to her and pressed her hand gently against the bed sheet. “How are you, Mom?” She closed her eyes then tugged her hand and pressed it against her chest.
“Mom, I know how it feels to be alone. I’m doing my best. I have a job to do, kids to feed. I can’t be around here beside you all day long. Please, forgive me.” Mrs. Fatima turned her face to the wall as Hussein lowered his face to ground. “I know you feel so bad about me. You’re wondering why is life so cruel to you. I don’t have an answer. I’m sorry.” He patted her on the shoulder and went to the bed next to her.
“It’d be better if you talked to me.” He said examining the ceiling. “What the heck? Good night.” He placed the pillow over his head and after some minutes, he was snoring.
Mrs. Fatima closed her eyes and remained ever conscious to the soft hum of air outside her window.
Question #3:
What do you think of my writing?
Mrs. Fatima sat at her chair that stood against the yellow painted wall of the living room. The fan whirred above her, squeaking as it turned from side to side. The door of the room facing her remained closed for two months. To her right side, the kitchen smelt of rot bananas with a cup of coffee lying at the bottom of the sink since her son’s last visit, two weeks ago.The grey light from the round lamp at the ceiling, gave a mysterious aura to Mrs. Fatima’s brown, wrinkled skin. She clicked the golden ring at the forefinger against her knee, and then raised her head to the ceiling. In her white night dress she looked a like a pride waiting for her lover to return, but a dying pride would be of no use.
She dreaded mirrors. She escaped them, afraid to see how time had misshaped her, leaving nothing of her once charming features. Beauty abandoned her. Her cheekbones stuck out under her green eyes and her nose got longer with the skin flattening at around it. Her teeth went yellow and weaker; her jaw dropped to her neck and stiffened at the edges that she could barely move it up and down to eat.
The reality of change had destroyed her life. Her husband died and her three daughters and son got married and left her to the silence of her apartment. Her body stiffened all over and her back arched forward; her front of her feet swelled. She’d feel like walking hard wood that broke apart and stuck out, piercing through her skin.
The crying went on for four years, since the death of her husband. But by the beginning of the fifth year, she realized that there was no use. Her tears dried up and she knew that no one would ever care to watch them as they twinkled in the light of the room, falling to the ground. The tears were gone.
No one would hug her when she felt cold; no one would sleep beside her and show her how it felt to be a woman. She wondered, what was the use of pain if no one could see it?
She raised her head to the ceiling and her jaw shook as she tried to talk. “God, can you hear me?” She pressed the wooden handle of the chair. “ I cannot be alone any longer. I wish to die.”
She imagined that by tomorrow morning, Mrs. Dalia her neighbor would keep on knocking but she wouldn’t open for she‘d be dead. The neighbors would break the door and Mrs. Dalia would scream and run to her bed and hug her. She’d talk of how she visited her everyday and how she took care of her, of how she told her of her secrets and how she loved her like a mother.
Question #4:
Would you please rate my writing?
Mrs. Fatima sat at her chair that stood against the yellow painted wall of the living room. The fan whirred above her, squeaking as it turned from side to side. The door of the room facing her remained closed for two months. To her right side, the kitchen smelt of rot bananas with a cup of coffee lying at the bottom of the sink since her son’s last visit, two weeks ago.The grey light from the round lamp at the ceiling, gave a mysterious aura to Mrs. Fatima’s brown, wrinkled skin. She clicked the golden ring at the forefinger against her knee, and then raised her head to the ceiling. In her white night dress she looked a like a pride waiting for her lover to return, but a dying pride would be of no use.
She dreaded mirrors. She escaped them, afraid to see how time had misshaped her, leaving nothing of her once charming features. Beauty abandoned her. Her cheekbones stuck out under her green eyes and her nose got longer with the skin flattening at around it. Her teeth went yellow and weaker; her jaw dropped to her neck and stiffened at the edges that she could barely move it up and down to eat.
The reality of change had destroyed her life. Her husband died and her three daughters and son got married and left her to the silence of her apartment. Her body stiffened all over and her back arched forward; her front of her feet swelled. She’d feel like walking hard wood that broke apart and stuck out, piercing through her skin.
The crying went on for four years, since the death of her husband. But by the beginning of the fifth year, she realized that there was no use. Her tears dried up and she knew that no one would ever care to watch them as they twinkled in the light of the room, falling to the ground. The tears were gone.
No one would hug her when she felt cold; no one would sleep beside her and show her how it felt to be a woman. She wondered, what was the use of pain if no one could see it?
She raised her head to the ceiling and her jaw shook as she tried to talk. “God, can you hear me?” She pressed the wooden handle of the chair. “ I cannot be alone any longer. I wish to die.”
She imagined that by tomorrow morning, Mrs. Dalia her neighbor would keep on knocking but she wouldn’t open for she‘d be dead. The neighbors would break the door and Mrs. Dalia would scream and run to her bed and hug her. She’d talk of how she visited her everyday and how she took care of her, of how she told her of her secrets and how she loved her like a mother.
Question #5:
For all reading lovers. What do you think of my writing?
Mrs. Fatima sat at her chair that stood against the yellow painted wall of the living room. The fan whirred above her, squeaking as it turned from side to side. The door of the room facing her remained closed for two months. To her right side, the kitchen smelt of rot bananas with a cup of coffee lying at the bottom of the sink since her son’s last visit, two weeks ago.The grey light from the round lamp at the ceiling, gave a mysterious aura to Mrs. Fatima’s brown, wrinkled skin. She clicked the golden ring at the forefinger against her knee, and then raised her head to the ceiling. In her white night dress she looked a like a pride waiting for her lover to return, but a dying pride would be of no use.
She dreaded mirrors. She escaped them, afraid to see how time had misshaped her, leaving nothing of her once charming features. Beauty abandoned her. Her cheekbones stuck out under her green eyes and her nose got longer with the skin flattening at around it. Her teeth went yellow and weaker; her jaw dropped to her neck and stiffened at the edges that she could barely move it up and down to eat.
The reality of change had destroyed her life. Her husband died and her three daughters and son got married and left her to the silence of her apartment. Her body stiffened all over and her back arched forward; her front of her feet swelled. She’d feel like walking hard wood that broke apart and stuck out, piercing through her skin.
The crying went on for four years, since the death of her husband. But by the beginning of the fifth year, she realized that there was no use. Her tears dried up and she knew that no one would ever care to watch them as they twinkled in the light of the room, falling to the ground. The tears were gone.
No one would hug her when she felt cold; no one would sleep beside her and show her how it felt to be a woman. She wondered, what was the use of pain if no one could see it?
She raised her head to the ceiling and her jaw shook as she tried to talk. “God, can you hear me?” She pressed the wooden handle of the chair. “ I cannot be alone any longer. I wish to die.”
She imagined that by tomorrow morning, Mrs. Dalia her neighbor would keep on knocking but she wouldn’t open for she‘d be dead. The neighbors would break the door and Mrs. Dalia would scream and run to her bed and hug her. She’d talk of how she visited her everyday and how she took care of her, of how she told her of her secrets and how she loved her like a mother. De
Question #6:
I need advice about my Best friend who past away and what she has left me?
Hello. My best friend died 3 days ago. we have been Friends since we were 4 years old. I am 19 by the way. We had a beautiful relationship and we trusted each other. She died of aids witch she had for 4 years. Since her family found out they kicked her out and forgot about her. So she has been living by herself. Last month she gotten very sick that she was not able to take care of herself and her son. Her son is 5. I came everyday to check how she was doing and cooked and cleaned for her and I eventually took her to my house so she can live with me along with her son so I can take better care of her. The reason why she was so sick was the lack of meds she did not take for her illness. She wanted to die because the torment she endured. On the 5th of this month she was very very weak. I asked her that were going to be together forever and she didn't say anything. I then left to get her water, but when I returned she died in my room on my bed. I never got my answer. I spoke to her parents about her death and her funeral but they did not care and hanged up on me. At least her grandfather helped me with the funeral. I also want custody of her son because grandpa looks he is unable to take care of her son. since her son knows me I want to raise him. but at the same time I am not a parent and I am new to this. But I love him and I want him to be with me. what should I do? Im sorry if this is long.Thank you so much for your help!!
to HootieMcBoob: thank you and her grandfather has been planning it, I just did not want this message to be so long.
Thank you so much everyone. My mother wants to do something also. But like everyone saying and how I feel. i really don't want to cause a problem to my mother...
Question #7:
Years of hit after hit, has led me to be socially inept. What do I do?
It will be long, because there are a lot of things that I feel have contributed to the way I am now.1) My mother was/is a recluse, and because of that, while I lived with her (till I was 14), she did not let me do anything but go to school (she drove me) and come home. I couldn't play baseball because she wouldn't take me, I couldn't go to friends houses because she wouldn't let me. There was never a reason to it, besides the fact that she was a recluse and wanted me to be the same way.
2) I remember, one day, one of the girls in my middle school class, put a "i like you not" in my desk. I didn't see it, and it was the day of the parent teacher conference. My mother found it in my desk, and made fun of me for it. She put it on the fridge, and made me feel like I did something wrong.
- I moved out of my moms house to stay with my father when I was 14.
3) My father immediately made it clear he didn't want me. Claiming, "I don't have the time to deal with you". He was more focused on himself (still is) than me. He is a wealthy man, and did nothing to "raise" me, but provide me with a room. In fact, he refused to take the time to buy me a bed, so for at least 2 years, I slept on the carpet floor. I had to walk to the high school on my own to register myself. I was 14. He did nothing but throw money at me and demand I wasn't home when he was. (He would constantly bring home dates).
At this point, because of the way my mother raised me, I was terrible in social situations. I had no practice. I had one friend in my freshmen year in high school, and the only thing I remember about him, relating to the only girl I had ever asked out in high school. It was because of my friend saying "just do it". I still remember her face, clearly thinking I was a joke. She said no. That was the year before I moved in with my father. I kept in contact with my friend for a little while over the internet. The thing I remember was, the girl I had asked out, asked him for his camera, and took naked pictures of herself and sent them to him. He got all the girls. I was clearly the weird friend. I was depressed, and almost killed myself.
Now at this new high school, (sophmore year), a few people befriended me, but then turned out to just do it as a joke. I made one friend over the entire next 3 years in that new high school, it was a girl. I some how, got her to go out with me. She was my first kiss. A day or so after that, she called me, and said "i am sorry" and long story short, one of those guys who "Befriended me", went up to the girl, asked her out, and did everything with her, just to make me look stupid and bad. He succeeded. She apologized to me, after realizing why the other guy did what he did. I immediately hung up and never talked to her again. I remember walking by her in the hall ways, and she would try to talk to me, and I couldn't look at her, or say a word. I even remember her crying because I wouldn't even talk to her. I met her my sophomore year in high school. I didn't talk to another person at that school in any context but something to do with class ever since. All I did was study, praying I could get away from those people, my father and mother.
I got into a out of state college, (Ohio state) with a full ride. My father didn't even come to my graduation. My mother wouldn't leave to make the 4 hour long drive. The only person who came was my brother.
At college, I kind of felt like I could start over, and it worked. I made a few friends and had one girl friend. For some reason, (Probably lack of social training), I screwed it up with the girl by saying something that pissed her off, and I ended up just drifting apart from the friends. I remember on several occasions they would jokingly tell me "we thought you died" because for months at a time, I wouldn't leave me room for anything but class and I ate nothing but chips in my room.
I transferred from Ohio state to go to USC (this time I had to pay), and didn't talk to a single person for the entire time I was there. I went 2 years without getting a single persons phone number. The only person I ever called was my brother. I gained around 70 pounds over that time, and did nothing but study and eat.
I took the last year off, and lost all the weight. I also made it into medical school, and that is were I am now. A few people here have kind of befriended me, but I already feel myself drifting apart.
I know, years of bad/neglectful parents and bad memories of every friend I ever made had led me to be really socially inept. I fear I am either going to just go back to being antisocial, or piss these people off to the point where I don't have a choice but to be antisocial.
How can I get over 22 years of terrible background.
Question #8:
What do you think of my poem?
So, I wrote this poem after having a violent dream!What do y'all think?
[The Escape]
Dearest Harp was bon to a country of the free
He was convinced that he was in the land happiness
But great abuse he one day did see
And he grew in great fear of the society’s darkness
“Oh what a frightening place”
Do not fret for your life
“I wish myself I could erase”
It will be honorable strife
Harp’s father born and raised on a farm
His mother under the wing of the church
He easily did fool others with his charm
But with “Satanic” feelings he was cursed
Every day he lay in bed or sat at school
Thinking of how he would tell them
For any secret would ruin his yule
But he knew that his parents would easily condemn
The news was haunted by articles of them
His parents thought of his fellow beings like trash
They sat thanking God that their son was no Fem
And the sweat down Harp’s neck did crash
“I have to leave this dreadful place”
Harp convinced himself beyond a doubt
“They will never accept me with grace”
He decided that at night he would fade out
Your happiness is jeopardized and you have tried
You want you parents acceptance more than anything
But if you told them they would have cried
Escape, Harp, to relieve them of the burden they’re carrying
The moon was shining bright and huge in the sky
Harp looked at his parents one last time during dinner
And that night for freedom he did fly
For this was not the place for him to linger
Run like the wind! Harp and let the freedom take you whole
Harp, you have escaped from the persecution of the world
Your life from now on will be nothing but a ball
Into the loving arms of those like you you will be hurled
For you are the shining beacon and a story
For other youths like you to follow
To follow you into freedom’s glory
For you shall never be shunned below
That first night of freedom was cold and lonely
But you found a back ally that was welcoming enough
You threw out a blanket to make it rather homey
But of course the start would be quite tough
The next morning you smelled of cat urine and sadness
But you held no regrets for what you had done
You were one step closer to your absolute happiness
But soon your battle will be finally won
The first day was a blur and hot in search of refuge
You found a bar and club that was open wide
You had no I.D to show the man so huge
But you insisted you were on their side
Harp snuck around the back and just as night fell was in!
“I have arrived” he told himself with glee and pride
He was now with those people just like him
He was with the people who would forever stand at his side
“Hey,” Harp said as he found himself in front a man
He seemed nice enough and trustworthy
So, he would ask this man to help him plan
He gave good enough advice on a place of refuge
It was far away and the man told him he’d guide Harp
The night went on and the man grew rather drunk
He found another person to have under the moon so sharp
With Harp they left for the man’s home deep in the city’s funk
“The guest room” the man gave Harp keys to take
“I’ll take to your refuge in the morning, Harp”
For a certain reason a smile Harp had to fake
He saw the found man under the moon so sharp
Harp didn’t trust the man that he did not know
He guest room thinking “I have arrived”
In the blanket’s clean soft glow
Into the guest bathroom Harp did strive
Clean and tired he retired for the night
Until a few hours passed and he awakened
He could hear from the main house a fight!
It was between his friend and man founded
In less than a flash Harp was on his feet
Into the main house he did race
And blood curling screams were there to greet
Blood splattered across his friend’s face
The man founded was standing over his friend
He spun around to look to Harp
And then Harp did now comprehend
That he was about to get something sharp
What came next was one violent sprint
Across the large home of Harp’s friend
Running now from a knife’s sharp glint
Into dark halls in such a house grand
Harp had lost the man for only a few moments
Harp slammed himself into the bath
Nearby he heard the found man’s torments
And he saw a razor on the soap’s lath
Harp approached with dismay
He looked at it like an alien machine
Things shouldn’t have been this way
But of worries he might be clean
The grand escape was what he found
Escape from your problems, Harp
Of blood you’ll first lose a pound
It isn’t all that painfully sharp
He lay with God in only minutes
He was gone from the Earth filled with sorrow
Freedom is thine, Harp enjoy its limits
For you there is a brighter tomorrow
The founded man came to the bath’s door
He stepped inside with steady breath
Slipped on the blood upon the floor
And met with an angry justifying death
Question #9:
Why does my niece hate me?
My niece is 4 years old, and she wants nothing to do with me!I don't spoil her, but everyone else does extremely. My sister lets her do whatever she wants, and sleep whenever she wants and eat whatever she wants, and my dad does the same thing, but whenever i watch her i make her eat healthy snacks and go to bed or at least to her room at a decent hour. Now, it's even worst, she cries all the time when i don't give her her way. Like when i won't give her candy before lunch, since it's almost ready.....or just today for example, she asked my dad to put salt on her food, and she didn't even take a bite yet. He said "ask auntie to do it" I told her to take a bite of her food first to try it, and she started crying....it's just brutal. My boyfriend doesn't spoil her either, but she just loves him. I just don't understand.....My nephew just loves me, and i practically raised him the same way too....Why does she hate me so much? I know i'm not the funnest person in the world.....but I care about her so much, shes family! It kinda hurts my feelings, especially now that i'm expecting a baby soon and i'm scared that my children will hate me the same way....
Question #10:
can someone give me advice on how to deal with a work review regarding issues raised at work?
what has happened is i`ve been called in for a interview/ review regarding issues work have had with me, i accept what they are saying, but after it was raised before the weekend and when i went in on yesterday ( basically i went in on friday they raised this issue and after i went in yesterday i thought i`d turned the corner and put the issue to bed but seemingly not, i`ve got a review about it on thursday and it is really worrying me as my job seems seriously at riskQuestion #11:
Overgrown flower bed, where do I begin?
My new home has an overgrown flower bed. I don't really know much about gardening (total city girl) so I'm not sure how to attack this issue. There seems to be some kind of webs inside the long stems (?) and I'm sure there are some weird bugs in there! I'm sure the best move would be getting a weed whacker and just chopping off everything and bad bag it? But I'm prone to insect bites and get rashes easily! So I don't really want to do this! What are my options? Spray insecticide and weed whack it? Can something like Round Up kill everything in there? Should I just wait for the winter to dry it up and just dig everything out??PS its a raised flower bed, and it's not too big. Maybe like, 5ft by 3ft or so.
Oh, and please feel free to recommend gardening tools. I know nothing about what I should use. There are tall stemmy flowers. Don't know what they are. But I don't mind killing them and starting over.
I know it's sad... But I'm afraid of the bugs. I usually require some kind of steroid shot if I start scratching! And I can assure you there are weird bugs in their. The leaves on the 'flowers' are eaten up. Is there something I should spray in there before I start pulling?
Question #12:
Is this a bunch of hocus-pocus for suckers who believe!!?
My g/f has gone off to a nature retreat of sorts where they communicate with horses, the horses talk to them, etc.etc. I've read some testimonials on the site. One person wrote they had been diagnosed with a terminal cancer tumour & after spending time at this retreat with the horses, etc..almost immediately they could feel themselves healing. Once home, there was no evidence of the tumour. I can't believe all this crap.This so-called retreat charges $4,000.00 for one week. Linens are not provided. People must bring their sleepingbags, but sleep on a bed. A friend of my g/f was wanting to go..her husband was giving her a hard time, but according to her, came around with his thinking, realised how important it was to her, then said it was ok with him if she went. My g/f didn't mention the cost at the time she told me she was going, except that it was bigger than her...she was being 'guided' to go, the horses 'want her there". I think perhaps her friend's husband was reluctant because of the cost!!My g/f is into all sorts of Reiki stuff as well. She believes she can communicate with her dog & cats, & they with her. If she wants answers to anything, she rubs her thigh with two fingers, & claims to get a 'yes' or 'no' answer. She let a friend down a week ago..saying she "wasn't meant" to attend a fund-raising tournament with her. After a big quarrel with this friend, she said the friends late mother was pushing her into upsetting her friend so she'd release whatever emotions she may be carrying. I've never heard such bull** in my entire life. I think my g/f simply doesn't want to go..and her friend accused her of that. NOW, I use dan example..saying to my g/f that considering she loves dolphins so much, & the opportunity came up to swim with them say tomorrow..she'd do it. She replied with "it depends on if I'm meant to or not"..I challenged it..knowing she wouldn't refuse that opportunity..to which she said "I won't go against what I'm led to do or not do". This whole thing is becoming very strange to me..In my mind..this is NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOUR!!
As for registering at the retreat...she tells me the other friend (who was having difficulty with the husband over it) was registered be she was. Then my g/f got pains in her stomach...which she says was her innerself kicking her to do this course as well..it was meant to be. Personally, I think my g/f got the 'green eyes of envy' because she loves horses so much, & her friend was going.
I'm sooo tired of this nonsense, it makes my head spin.
Sorry to be so lengthy, but do you think this is a bunch of hocus-pocus money wasting for suckers who think they believe in it??
Also, my g/f spends a LOT of money attending courses. Some are over $250.00 /day. Amazingly people who attend these courses get a certificate. It's also amazing that nobody ever seems to fail the course..& all wind up with a certificate. My g/f thinks she's a qualified Reiki practioner..& drives me crazy analyzing how I feel about things when I tell her.
Ⅿ❂✖ⅈ℮ you are so right...rarely if ever does she get a 'no' answer when it comes to something she wants to do. I agree, she's being a crappy friend by depending on that thigh rub..but to turn around & tell her friend that the friend's late Mom was pushing her (my g/f) to upset her friend in order to release bad feelings..was tacky if not cruel. THAT excuse came after they had a big blow up. Remember, at first my g/f simply said she 'wasn't meant to go'., then when her friend blew up at her betrayal..she used that excuse. Get this..apparently my g/f stayed up all night giving her friend long distance treatments. Her friend left her home after the argument..of course she did! I think my g/f had a classic case of guilty conscience, which is why she made that phone call so early in the am. I didnt' get the info from her..but from her friend. My g/f has only told me that the friend was 'carrying some stuff'..no details. I guess she's afraid I'd get angry with her...which I would.
Question #13:
Does this sound interesting?
This is a summary of the first few chapters of my book...sound interesting?When Jennifer was 16, she dropped out of school and ran off with her rich boyfriend Joey to get married, convinced that they were soul mates. But when Joey dumped her for another girl two years later, Jennifer became a wreck. She had no job, no money, no house, and no boyfriend. In a desperate attempt to get her life back, Jennifer slept with random men until she got pregnant, and then told Joey it was his. Joey had no choice but to get back together with her, and they re-married. Joey got a job at a local grocery store and Jennifer got a job as a waitress as they struggled to raise the boy they named Jeremy.
About a year after their re-marriage, Joey was leaving from work when he saw her. There was a 5 year old girl lying on a sidewalk – unconscious, badly burnt, and practically drenched in her own blood. Joey called 911 and the ambulance came took the girl and brought her to the hospital. Joey started to drive home, but he couldn’t stop worrying about the girl, and found himself driving to the hospital to see if she was okay. All the doctors were certain she was going to die, but a few days later the girl made a miraculous recovery overnight. Just the night before she was practically considered dead, but by morning, she was breathing normally and was able to make coherent conversation. The doctors confirmed that she was going to be fine, and after further investigation, they learned that the girl’s family had died in a fire a few days ago, the girl must have somehow survived and escaped downtown before she fell unconscious from the tremendous loss of blood. At home, Joey didn’t say anything about the girl to Jennifer and went to bed, but he couldn’t go to sleep. He just lay awake thinking about her. A couple of weeks later, Joey went to the hospital to see if she was still there. They told him that the girl is temporarily at an adoption agency. The cops had gone to the girl’s neighborhood but no one had heard of the family or the girl until the fire. Joey went to the adoption agency and told them that he was adopting her.
From here on out the story is told from the girl’s point of view, 12 years later.
So what do you think? Any predictions on where the girl came from and how she survived (it's more than just a miracle)?
Thank you, your opinion is greatly appreciated!!
Oops, I meant 17. Jennifer is 17 when she drops out of high school.
Ugh, 18. I mean 18. Sorry, can't type today...
Question #14:
wives and husbands please help, what should I think about this?
ok so my husband is the head of the house hold in every traditional sense of the word. Having said that, please understand that I love him and love to make him happy.I cook all of his meals and clean the house top to bottom every day. It's also a rule in our house
that I am not allowed to say no to him when he wants sex. He also dictates the position and what I will be doing to him and for how long. Before everyone gets mad, please understand that I love this and that being submissive to him is a real turn on for me.
The other day though, I think he crossed the line.
I was outside in front of the house because my son fell out of the play set (he's 4). We have a fence and everything so he was in no danger of cars or anything like that. Well my husband just happened to pull into the driveway while I was picking him up off the ground and starting to carry him inside. He was crying pretty bad and my husband was really worried.
I am pissed though because our neighbor was out also and my husband started yelling at me saying, "what is wrong with you? You can't watch our son? Are you stupid?"
I got really mad and told my husband to fu*k himself as I walked into the house.
Now I have never ever done anything like that before, I've never even raised my voice to him. But I was so embarrassed that he spoke to me like that in front of the neighbor, that I just wanted to prove that he couldn't talk to me like that.
Well this infuriated my husband. After he calmed our son down, he gave him a bath, and sat him in front of a movie. He walked by me and told me to meet him upstairs.
Here is the messed up part. He made me take my clothes off and lay down on the bed on my back. Then he straddled my face backwards and said he was going to teach me my place in this household. He said whenever he pinched my nipples, I had to lick his balls, and whenever he spanked my vag I had to lick his butt cheeks.
This was totally humiliating and he said specifically he was teaching me submission. Afterwords I had to stand in the corner of the bedroom with my bare butt in the air and my nose touching the floor for fifteen minutes.
It did make me feel really submissive, but I feel like he crossed the line into abuse.
I know I shouldn't have cussed at him period, especially in front of neighbor and our son, but does that excuse his behavior?
Oh and he has spanked me for disciplinary reasons in the past which I'm fine with, but nothing like this.
What are your thoughts?
I can't get a divorce and I don't want to. I just don't know id I should consider this abuse, not our lifstyle but what he did to make me submissive after I cussed him
Divorce is against my religion and I have a son with him
Question #15:
Does this interest you?
Bartholomew's GuildEnding of Chapter 8: Emmie's Dilemma and a Raid of Atlantis
Dino, sleeping quite soundly and in the middle of an extremely fond dream, was jostled awake by the sudden constant wailing of a loud siren.
Groggily sitting up and rubbing his eyes, his hand groped about for his glasses. “What in god’s name…”
Suddenly, a wave of fear crashed over him like a stab to the heart. “The Sirens of the East!” he cried, suddenly leaping out of bed.
Dashing into Lira’s room, he saw that she was no longer there.
“Lira!” he called throughout the house. “Lira!” But he realized that she was most likely in the underground ward. This was good. She would be safe there. Now was the time to sniff out what was going on and save himself. Dino ran out of the door, swiftly descending the short flight of stairs and coming out onto the blue illuminated street.
It really was a panic-ridden street. People were rushing about everywhere, hands holding on to loved ones, screams of terror in every direction. Smoke billowed out of some of the houses in the West, which was the area the majority of the Atlantians seemed to be moving away from. Blue searchlights were the only source of light, moving through the rows of houses, seeking out something; what they were seeking out, Dino did not know.
Soon the sea of people began washing him into central Atlantis, and when he tried to elbow his way through the crowd, he found a hand yanking his shirt collar back and pulling him into an alley. His heart rate quickened with alarm.
“Be silent, Richard Wolff. I have not come to hurt you.”
Dino looked up with further alarm; the mysterious thing that had pulled him into the alleyway somehow knew his name.
“The things that are raiding Atlantis are called Night Spirits.”
“And what are you called? How do I know you’re not one of them.”
“Hold your tongue, Richard Wolff. I am Emmiliea, the last Dawn Spirit of Caliburthia,” she cleared her throat. “And the most puny of them all.” she sighed.
“Then you know our situation?”
Emmie was irritated beyond belief. “Do you not understand?! I don’t know anything! I don’t know who I am! That’s why I need help, Richard Wolff! That’s why I need help!”
“Little Dawn Spirit, you are perhaps one of the most important creature residing in Atlantis right now—it is far beyond my calling to help someone like you.”
Emmie sighed, a tear streaming down her face. “Oh, what’s the use?” she slid against the wall and down onto her bottom, not unlike what she had done just fleeting moments ago when she was at home in Caliburthia. “Lero can’t help me, you can’t help me—who can?” she put her head in her hands. “Who are you, Richard Wolff? Who am I? What am I doing in such a foreign place? Why am I wondering through such a strange land, plodding on and on through a never ending torrent of darkness? I knew a moment ago, but I’ve forgotten.”
Richard looked upon the cowering, whimpering spirit. Raising his head, he looked to the sky—and then back down. “Who do you seek?” he uttered, staring at her.
“What?”
“Who do you seek?”
Emmie was taken aback, but, nonetheless, answered his question. “I…I…I seek your brother, Benjamin.”
“In locating him, I can assist you; however, I can only direct you. You must go to the outside, the ‘real world’, if you please—to earth, far above the ceiling of Atlantis. There you will find him, traveling to save the four worlds from the darkness that is shadowing us close behind. There you must go, little spirit. To the above.” Richard sniffed. “There is little time to waste. You must hurry!”
“But what about the raid?”
“We’ll hold out fine enough here without your aid, little spirit. Go and fulfill your purpose!”
And so Emmie did, following the directions ‘Dino’ had given her exceedingly carefully and closely.
Question #16:
will it damage conifer trees that have been planted for 3 years to be dug up after frost & replanted?
if replanting in same spot..but wishing to RAISE the beds twice as high and redig holes and fill up half way with GRAVEL...so as to give the conifers plenty of room underneath to protect against water..after it rains..will it give them plenty of area to allow the water to drain out of if it is draining,,HOWEVER not draining very fast..and therefore after heavy rain ..these trees sit in a bit of water..until drains out.will this fix this problem as well as will the trees be damaged by digging them up if dig up CAREFULLY and widely around them and try not to splice any roots?
please explain
(btw, these conifers are "Canadian Hemlocks" or "Tsuga Canadensis")
will this definitely help them as well to add plenty of sulfur and pine bark in the soil ?
thanks for your answers!
Question #17:
What do bed bug bites look like?
I have bites on my knees that have small white head in the middle that look like a pimple surrounded by a round red raised area about the size of a nickel. I woke up in the middle of the night itching and noticed them and they are still there.Is this from bed bugs? How do you get rid of them?
Question #18:
this atheist has pissed me off..do I have a right to be pissed off at this girl?
So I'm deeply catholic, I was raised Catholic as I went to a catholic primary school (elementary) and catholic high school and since i have both irish and Italian in my family, my family is also very catholic except my mum she was kind of relapsed catholic and wasn't very religious. And I go to mass every Sunday but I would never preach to any one because i respect that peoples religion is what someone wants to believe and wouldn't want to interfere with that. so one day I end up getting into a conversation with this girl was about same age as me, a young adult probably at college and we end up talking about religion and i find out shes atheist and she finds out Im a devout catholic and then started preaching to me about how I'm brainwashed and believe in Imaginary sky creature. So I go and say a load of stuff like what the hell made the universe then she says big bang i say who made the big bang she says something like chemicals or nuclear explosion or something (I wans't really listening to her at that point) and i say who made that and what happens she's speak less and can't explain anymore, then she tries implying Catholics and other faiths shove religion down smart and logical people and Im like what because your atheist that makes you a intellectual and because Im a catholic Im some simple thick dumb ass. And we end up going separate ways, I don't know what im more pissed about the fact I didn't get into her bed (which was my intent when i started talking to her) or the fact this atheist just implied I unintelligent and brainwashed for what i believe.mimi2008: Hey I'm devout but Im not that devout, anyway thank god to confession I can sin and as long as Im truely sorry God forgives me.
"not believing what you do and discussing that" she wans't discussing she was preaching.
"i think you're a troll trying to make catholics look bad" No Im a catholic I had my first holy communion in St Phillip's Church middleton, leeds, england
Question #19:
Would this make an interesting chapter?
When I write a story, I come up with the ending and the beggining, then fill in the middle. So I got the ending down, and I just gave my beginning a shot. I'm thinking this could be the first chapter...I don't have it written yet, so here's a short summary:
When Jennifer was 16, she dropped out of school and ran off with her rich boyfriend Joey to get married, convinced that they were soul mates. But when Joey dumped her for another girl two years later, Jennifer became a wreck. She had no job, no money, no house, and no boyfriend. In a desperate attempt to get her life back, Jennifer slept with random men until she got pregnant, and then told Joey it was his. Joey had no choice but to get back together with her, and they re-married. Joey got a job at a local grocery store and Jennifer got a job as a waitress as they struggled to raise the boy they named Jeremy. About a year after their re-marriage, Joey was leaving from work when he saw her. There was a 5 year old girl lying on a sidewalk – unconscious, badly burnt, and practically drenched in her own blood. Joey called 911 and the ambulance came took the girl and brought her to the hospital. Joey started to drive home, but he couldn’t stop worrying about the girl, and found himself driving to the hospital to see if she was okay. All the doctors were certain she was going to die, but a few days later the girl made a miraculous recovery overnight. Just the night before she was practically considered dead, but by morning, she was breathing normally and was able to make coherent conversation. The doctors confirmed that she was going to be fine, and after further investigation, they learned that the girl’s family had died in a fire a few days ago, the girl must have somehow survived and escaped downtown before she fell unconscious from the tremendous loss of blood. At home, Joey didn’t say anything about the girl to Jennifer and went to bed, but he couldn’t go to sleep. He just lay awake thinking about her. A couple of weeks later, Joey went to the hospital to see if she was still there. They told him that the girl is temporarily at an adoption agency. The cops had gone to the girl’s neighborhood but no one had heard of the family or the girl until the fire. Joey went to the adoption agency and told them that he was adopting her.
From here on out the story is told from the girl’s point of view, 12 years later.
Comments? Suggestions? I know the details aren't perfect, but overall, do you think it would make an interesting first chapter and catch the reader's attention?
Thank you!!
Actually, I was planning for the characters to find out her background later. I just added it in there so you guys could give your opinions on that part as well.
Question #20:
Is she cheating on me?
My girlfriend came home from college and rang me. She told me to come over. I went over. It started off when I got there... She was in the kitchen making a sandwich. I expected her to be in the kitchen, because she's a female, but this is where the problem came in..She didn't make me any food, or even offer me any! The clothes I had given her to wash hadn't been done, and my work shoes I asked her to polish were still scuffed! I had dropped my clothes and the shoes off before she started school in the morning. It took me 30 minutes to get to her house after she rang which was more than enough time to do the chores I had asked her to do!
We're both 16 and her parents had said I could stay the night. They let us sleep in the same bed. Because she hadn't done what I'd asked her to in a timeous manner, I made her sleep on the floor without any covers or a pillow.
So she is be disobedient. What did she do with the extra 30 minutes? Maybe she is busy washing someone else's clothes. Another boy perhaps... What does this mean? Should I dump the lazy girl or should I keep her? She is good at washing my hair for me and in bed ;)
this is not A joke.. This is how I was raised to treat women... She likes it :) sure she cries every now and again when I have to hit her for not listening, but she says she loves me... And don't worry, her parents think she is clumbsy. She doesn't tell them I hit her, but tells them that she "fell". ;) She's so good...
Yeah but how can I tell?? It took so long to get her to obey me as it is... I don't want to lose her over nothing... Who knows how long the next one will take, and who will look after me in the meantime?
This is not a joke! I'm worried and upset. I don't know what to do :'(
** Powered by Yahoo Answers
