I met THE most gorgeous man I have ever seen in real life. (I mean Matthew McConaughey is better looking but he doesn't count because he's pretend.) This guy was my ideal of real life perfect handsome manhood. He was six foot two, brown wavy hair, light sprinkling of gray at the temples, chiseled chin, good shoulders,nice chest. Whoa baby slice me off a piece of that!
or what we pick up unknowingly, till it intrudes on our conciousness. That too.
I wish I could still give blood. I used to on a regular basis. But because we lived in Germany, the blood bank is concerned that I could be carrying Mad Cow Disease (go figure). I went to sell plasma once. I was seriously broke and needed the cash to buy groceeries. I felt a little like a prostitute selling what I had once given out of love. They didn't want it. How pathetic does that make me? <img src="http://images.stardock.com/JU/smiles/Laugh.g
Blessings! XO Maggie
Nice. I have enough to deal with my own kaka without carrying everyone elses too. Hard to know what God gave me to carry and what I picked up on my own out of a sense of obligation. Maggie
Your results: You are SupermanSuperman -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 90% Spider-Man -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 85% Wonder Woman -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 77% Robin ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I put my ex-husband through law school. So I have had this discussion before. If you decide to go to law school, you have three years to figure out if and how you want to specialize. My ex was gung ho about litigating; he was all for the courtroom show. During law school, he figured out that business law was really interesting (to him). You won't know till you've had a look from the inside. <TABLE cellpadding=8 width="95%" align=center bgColor=#FFF
typimg with one finger while holding baby Been there done that--Good on ya! loved this Thanks. I'm glad.
Thanks Buddha. Thank you for reading my stuff.
The title comes from a line in the poem Black Light (II) by David St. John published in the Spring 2002 issue of Blackbird. It started as a free write exercise in my writing group. I liked how it came out so I'm sharing it. Swift and uncomplicated love Permission to give myself to you to me to this moment to say yes to life to believe<BR
Have you seen Blake's Seven? Caulk guns and blow dryers as weapons. The insignia is > instead of ^.And it's NOT a parody. Just a low budge British knock-off.
That would be Mrs. Gene Roddenberry Also Nurse Chapel on the original.
Random thought a propos of nothing in particular. Remember when the kiss between Kirk and Uhura was a huge interracial thing they were being forced to do. (shocking). Then on TNG we had all kind of interracial and interspecies relationships...So don't you think tht by the 24 th century, humans would be a lot more homogeneous? Everybody would be a neutral toasty beige, kind of like the new racially ambivalent Betty Crocker?
If you're interested, here's my poem about her Link Thank you for that. With an 18% mortality rate from completed suicide attempts, mood disorders among children are nothing to mess with. A pre-emptive strike is definitely in order. I like your writing. It seems we are following similar paths.<
Where do you keep all that? I just bought a CD case that holds 48 discs. I commute an hour and a half so I either listen to my CDs or books on tape.
I live with mood disorders among my family members. Mood swings like you wouldn't believe. Child is coloring nicely--wait... DUCK! He just chucked a shoe at my head. You put the clutch in, shift, and keep going. What does this have to do with my CD's? Maybe it's because I am, in fact, a teacher and perpetual student of music; maybe I'm overdue for a meds c
I agree that Diane Muldaur was a big mistake. Was Gates McFadden on maternity leave? And yes I was thrilled with the whole LA Law elevator shaft thing as well. I really could not get into Deep Space Nine. I tried. No go. Everything annoyed me. I particularly disliked Odo. I generally like Rene Aubergenois (I hope I spelled it right). He was just too gruff for the normally effete to pull off.
Electronic hasps divide day from night. Impossibly pink and patronizing. The receptionist assures me that nothing is out of the ordinary. She doesn’t have the black eye and the welt. I sit in the mock living room till I can go back. The pallid man with a widow’s peak and prominent cuspids tells me he has again lost his job and his apartment and ask
This was wonderfully honest and intimate. Sometimes the best sex--isn't. I have a similar piece that I may have the nerve to post now. Thanks Buddha.
Thanks. It ain't for the squeamish...
this thing I wrote about my pseudonym Maggie loved it. You get the power of renaming oneself. nice to meet you! Thanks. Good to be here.<
I am not a perfect parent. I try. I am acutely aware of my short-comings. I offer my children the choice--either go to therapy now on my tab, or deal with it later and pay for it yourself. OK-So I was having one of those mind-numbingly frustrating conversations with my 13yo. It went something like this: "Why can't I?" "Because A B and C" "But why can't
Thanks Buddha. Yes I did lend money but that's another poem.... Maggie
Accounts Payable One envelope among many White windowed demands A lavender square The cursive I taught you Ink straddles the miles Like Colossus And conjures the sacred Smell of your baby neck Watchband abrasions Days exchanged for electricity And the privilege of not knowing Where waste goes Fold
I teach at a Catholic school. I love my job. I love the students, the parents, and my fellow teachers. However, I am not Catholic. So, every once in a while the students catch me a in a non-Catholic faux-pas. For instance, my students were having a particular difficult time catching on to what I was asking them to do. Finally, they got it, and I said,
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