Unusual Immigrant

Haiti

2010-01-19T07:51:00.001-08:00

There are so many blogs and post and newspaper articles and broadcasts on the disaster that is Haiti right now that I decided to wait a bit before writing anything. And now that the wait is over, here I am. It was a sad day when I heard the news. There is an incredibly important person in my life whose family lives in Haiti and I was distressed by it all. Shock is a strange thing. Somehow the first few moments after hearing about it, I did not know how to react...I was almost...unaffected. Looking back I know that it was a kind of pain settling in for these are my people. And no it's not just becasue they are black - like me, or live on an island - like me, tried to make a life for themselves - like me. No. It stemmed from the fact that they are part of my race...the human race, and what affects my brother and sister creates an impact on me too.

So I offer up my thoughts and my prayers. To the sick and the dead and the dying.

If there's any good in this world I would think that those who left us will come back as sunshine...and every moment that a golden ray warms my heart I'll know...someone had to exit this plane of existence so that I would be warm...it's sad, but it's also a wonderful thing.

Way Too Long

2010-01-14T06:26:00.000-08:00

I would like to say that life got in the way and I have not had the time to write this blog but the truth is, I would be lying. I got in the way. Sometimes we are so blinded by our daily existence that we refuse to see that there's bigger and better things out in the world for us to find. That happened to me and for the past eight months I have been living everyone's life but my own.

There is a saying that you have to be happy being YOU before you can concentrate on anyone else. So true is this word of wisdom and though I knew it all along, I concentrated on all the things that were not mine and focused my energy on making the world presentable. I moved things, organized small spaces, got rid of, added more, placed pictures on the walls of lives that I never should have been working on in the first place. You have to help yourself before you can even attempt to help others.

So here I am on this overcast day in January. The sky is an angry grey, my heart is pumping fiercely and my eyes can see the beauty within the coming storm - I am free again. Not from shackles or bars but free from the prison in my head where I placed myself. It was a hard road and the healing has only now begun but this is a start. Baby steps I say, I've never had a lot of patience but I am learning - time is a good teacher.

I've missed the rain and dancing in it, I've missed the feeling of so much potential building up that it scares you to the core, I've missed the smell of fear as I try to do something that is bigger than my dreams, but most of all I miss waking up knowing that I can be anything, do anything, achieve anything that I want to.

My life will no longer be defined by the meaningless drivel that just takes up space.

Heck no!

Because my life is a journey...and everyone else is just along for the ride.

Been a While

2009-05-26T06:12:00.001-07:00

Its been a long time since I've done any posting on here and I have decided its time I started again. I began a new job on May 19th at Applebee's. My book is being worked on and I have resigned myself to the fact that I may be here for a while. Which is the reason I am in the process of fixing up the place to make it livable. We'll see what happens from there...

Not Much going on today except...

2009-02-27T09:03:00.001-08:00

Matt is too busy being a PI to do anything else so I'm left home alone...hoorah!

Tek is an asshole as usual and goes around jumping up on everyone and everything...bloody hell!

I have this great idea for a book but can't come up with a hook sentence to begin...can anyone say inspiration?

Its been too long since I have not had a job and to be brutally honest its rather frustrating.

My back, I am convcinced is completely broken and I think my nether years are going to be spent walking crookedly.

My Favourite Shows - for now

2009-02-25T11:13:00.002-08:00

Numbers do not indicate highest rating.

1. Leverage

2. NCIS

3. United States of Tara

4. The Big Bang Theory

5. Bones

6. Life on Mars

7. Criminal Minds

8. Eureka

9. Legend of the Seeker

10. Battlestar Gallactica

11. True Blood

12. Pushing Daisies (dammitt* they cancelled the show)

13. True Blood

Hugh Jackman is awesome!

2009-02-23T09:12:00.000-08:00

To be quite honest I did not look at the oscars last evening and neither did I plan on doing so as I had a lot of writing to do. You know when the inspiration hits you just have to roll with the punches but...OH MY GODNESS! I looked at one thing and one thing only this morning - Hugh Jackman's opening act and I was blown away by it all. The man is a genius.

Talk about total package. The man has great looks, an obviously incredible personality and I learned that he is a funny man as well. Can anyone top that? So hats off to the most talented Australian there ever was. If only his name was anything but Hugh, I'd name all my children after him.

New Book Day

2009-02-20T13:00:00.000-08:00

Today I woke with a crak in my neck and sunshine spilling out of windows. I can't remember having left the bloody things open in the first place. I must say that while I love the sun, its terrible to have a creak with beautiful bright lights reminding you how wonderful the day can be. Well that just sucks! I figured since I had one thing going against me and another for, I should take it as a good omen and do something constructive.

I need desperately to begin working on a new book.

Did I mention that I listened to the entire audio of Neil Gaiman reading his latest Nebula Award winning childrens book - wait for it - The Graveyard Book? I enjoyed it immensely and of course I have been a huge fan of the masterful Gaiman since American Gods. Frightfully clever piece of work if I may so myself - inspiring piece of literature that anyone with a good brain for reading should pick up.

Now where was I? Strayed off the topic again I did. Ah well yes - a new book is in order after the horrifying "Confessions of a Vampire," which has left a bitter taste in my mouth and the agents that I tried to ship it off to no doubt. Shame on you lass. So I was thinking something more fanciful, less gory, more imaginative, less brooding. I shall write me a book about a girl whose paintings come to life.

Can't say more than that really. And this time I am suggesting to myself a plot. I do so hate plots as the words just come out of me at their leisure but as Mr. Holmes my High School English teacher always lambased. "You must have a plot for anything to work Miss Stoute, for life to work." Bugger that!

Its just a blooming book. Not like I'm about to sign up for helping out with world peace.

Another day perhaps.

I Love the Rain

2009-02-18T10:23:00.000-08:00

When I first moved to the US I must admit that I was a bit shocked to find that no one danced in the rain. Were they serious? It was in the middle of a sweltering summer and buckets of pure joy was raining from beautiful grey skies with no one to enjoy it. Imagine my chagrin when I saw students racing by with their umbrellas and raincoats trying desperately not to get a drop of that liquid gold on their outfits. Now I must admit that I must have looked like an awesome fool, standing in the middle of campus with my arms outstretched, face to the sky and feet crashing into puddles as I spun around dizzyingly. (Later I would learn that with rain comes lighting and lightning can strike one dead where he stands but who cares really!)

In those moments when the sky opened I was desperately wishing that my father had moved to the states with me - Daddy is a man who scopes out the weather and can smell the rain hours ahead. With soap in hand, he usually runs out a second before it actually begins raining and we the children would join him to trek through deep puddles and get as drenched as we possibly could. So while I was thinking how much my folks would appreciate the weather, the Dean was being alerted to a madwoman on campus, my coach was foaming at his mouth beacause one of his top athletes was happily catching a cold and my Economics professor stood staring at me, mouth hung open in obvious shock.

Wet as I was I made it to class on time but was escorted out within seconds amidst the laughter of my classmates and the severe frown on an Accounting genius of a teacher who possesed nary a fun bone. I skipped and hopped and danced my way back to my dorm as happy as an uneaten clam and sat on the steps of the Administrative building enjoying nature at its best.

To this day people still look out for me when it rains because of course I never let a downpour go unappreciated. The weatherman is not always correct but when he is you can find me soaking up a good rain shower, oblivious to the hundreds of eyes staring at the obviously crazy girl whom they secretly envy. The thing is that most people would love to go dancing in the rain, they are usually scared however, that they may be looked upon unfavorably. That's life for you I guess. Me, I don't really care what people think. The rain makes me happy, it just does.

So next time you hear the tip tap tapping on your window pane look out and see what it is. If the heavens see it fit to bless us with something so beautiful, the least we can do is enjoy it a little.

Valentine's Day - A Day Later

2009-02-15T08:01:00.000-08:00

I have never been a big fan of the Valentine's Day holiday since I believe that it is a conspiracy developed by man hating females to get those of the opposite sex to spend exorbitant amounts of money for no apparent reason. I still feel that way by the way but after having gone out yesterday and experiencing a banging good time I can now say that you do not need wads of cash to a Valentine's Day make.

That's all I have for today...later probably i'll come up with something else.

He he

Can't wait to go Home

2009-02-13T01:00:00.000-08:00

Videos of Tek

2009-02-11T09:28:00.000-08:00

The first video is Tek and myself playing in the snow. In the second, he has an infection in his eye but refuses to take his meds unless there's peanut butter involved. Too bad he's already eaten the entire container.

Tommorrow I Die

2009-02-11T08:43:00.001-08:00

But for today can I just be?

I saw...I pondered...I made a video...

2009-02-09T15:25:00.000-08:00

Its not everyday that one gets to make a video as a job application and after reading about 'The Best Job in the World," I decided that I should at least give it a try right? After all I have absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain and so do the thousands more who applied. Needless to say I am sort of debating whether to send off this bloody vid or not. Ah well, here goes.

Wanna Go Home

2009-02-07T18:51:00.001-08:00

Life gets at me sometimes...not everytime, but sometimes when I am awake it creeps up and tries to convince me that I am actually asleep. Life can be cruel like that. I have the oddest dreams that I am asleep and waking nightmares invade my every moment. I am no longer free and to be quite honest I do not know the reason why. So here I am writing this in the middle of the early morning hoping that my brain will find the difference between my dreams and my waking life. To sleep again peacefully would be incredible but alas, there is no sleep to be had here.

It’s Football not Soccer

2009-02-05T11:12:00.000-08:00

Seriously, I am a little miffed when people correct me after I explain that I am about to play some football. “You play football?” I am usually asked in a disbelieving manner, “Aren’t you scared of getting hurt?” Well obviously not, which is when I have to go on to explain that it’s actually real football that I am speaking about, not handball.

Don’t get me wrong I love the American game. It’s fun, fast paced and the commercials are great but it can never compare to bicycle kicks, shoulder tackles or salads. There’s just no competition there. And its not Soccer either…its Football damn it!

Stephen King On 'Twilight' Author: 'Stephenie Meyer Can't Write Worth A Darn'

2009-02-04T16:00:00.000-08:00

Well it was about time somebody said it and I will make this short. Stephanie Meyer can't write to save her life and she just keeps sucking the creativity out of the gullible teenagers who think Twilight is something special. Well let me tell you something special, it isn't!

I was mortified when I heard the accolades that trash of a novel - or should I say novels was receiving by critics in the literary world. I mean to read the thing for pure entertainment purposes only is cool but to give merit to the writing? Incesed could not describe my state and its not because I would like the success that Meyer is receiving. I would be so ashamed of myself if I had wriiten Twilight and she ought to be too.

So, when Stephen King finally came out and said that she was a horrible writer, I cheered for joy; especially after a few nut jobs compared her to JK Rowling. OF ALL THE NERVE. The Harry Potter books are well constructed, immaculately written and entertaining to the ninth degree. In comparison, Twilight is an insipid and lackluster affair that would be better off feeding the flames to keep a cold room warm.

According to Mr King., "Both Rowling and Meyer, they're speaking directly to young people... The real difference is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn. She's not very good."

Mr. King, while not a fan of Meyer, understands the books appeal - gag!

"People are attracted by the stories, by the pace and in the case of Stephenie Meyer, it's very clear that she's writing to a whole generation of girls and opening up kind of a safe joining of love and sex in those books. It's exciting and it's thrilling and it's not particularly threatening because it's not overtly sexual." Say wha!

He also adds that "A lot of the physical side of it is conveyed in things like the vampire will touch her forearm or run a hand over skin, and she just flushes all hot and cold. And for girls, that's a shorthand for all the feelings that they're not ready to deal with yet."

Well said Stephen. Anyway, it just struck me as odd that no one was really raising a stink about the inappropriateness of the series. True, Ms. Meyer says that sex is not part of her books but how about Bella trying to kill herself when Edward leaves? In my line of thinking that is considerably worse but who am I to say anything? Its not like I am a published author or anything; just another girl who actually appreciates good literature.

A game of Cricket --- and not the insect either

2009-02-03T08:23:00.000-08:00

It’s been approximately three years since I held a cricket bat in my hands, two years to the day since I threw a spin ball smack into the middle of a stump and much too long since looking at a game live, or on the television. I am doomed. See, back in the day when I my permanent residence was Dominica, I lived for rainy days when we played cricket in the through the downpour with our mothers screaming at us if we caught a cold.

I existed solely for pick up matches and Sunday afternoons when my dad and his team competed with opposing villages for the title of head honchos. Of course back then they substituted tea for shots for rum, were drunk by the first inning and never completed a single game. Still, those memories keep me sane on the bitter cold American evenings and early mornings when I cannot sleep because the sound of engines drive me insane.

Yesterday I spoke to my little sister who rubbed in my face the fact that she was about to play cricket with the boys on the beach. It serves me right doesn’t it? I mean I practically ran away from home to come to the US without thinking of the consequences. True, I have made a little life here for myself but what is life without cricket? It’s like telling a hardcore football fan to give up his life’s passion; like keeping a whale from the water…that’s not fair right!

And so today I wanted to remember all the great things about the game. Wooden stumps collapsing from a hit, LBW’s called before they are even made, village children playing in the dirt and rain, the spirit of togetherness and eleven players all dressed in white.

Which brings me to the subject of white uniforms; everyone wants to know why cricketers wear white? Well it’s for the simple reason that the ball is red and therefore white is the best dress for visibility. In a white background, the ball can be seen clearly by the man about to hit that cricket ball into history. I myself like to think that it’s because we are purists. The game of cricket is so pure that we do not want to sully it by wearing anything but white.

So the next time you feel the need to make fun of the game of cricket, or laugh and the wonderful men and women who drink tea during breaks, think of the millions more people out there who are staunch supporters of the art. Yea I said art because that’s what it essentially is. Cricket is a blooming art form that many have tried but few have mastered.

Think Sir Jacob Hobbs, Adam Gilchrist, Sachin Tendulkar, Sir Garfield Sobers, Vivian Richards, Don Bradman and all the other cricket greats who have made the game both remarkable and memorable.

To be quite honest there isn’t another game like that of cricket (not in my book anyway). And the next time you are lucky enough to visit England, Australia, Pakistan, India and any of the 700 and some Caribbean Islands, feel free to ask where you can play a pick up game. Not only are we willing to share our art form with you; it’s always nice to indulge a stranger in a spot of tea.

Adios...and good playing.

The Olympic Bird Nest Flop

2009-01-30T20:12:00.000-08:00

Can you believe that the multi-million dollar Olympic bird nest built in Beijing has now become a rotting mess? Well it has. Prior to these events, the structural masterpiece was receiving raves from critics all over the world but today that has all changed. Not only is the paint peeling off but it costs 8.8 million a year for mantainance alone. What a drag! The chinese are such an ingenious people that I personally think its only a matter of time before they come up with a few ideas to keep it in one piece.

So far, I have heard that the area around Beijing’s massive Bird’s Nest stadium will be turned into a shopping and entertainment complex in three to five years. How appropriate! The only confirmed event at the 91,000-seat stadium this year is Puccini’s opera “Turandot,” set for Aug. 8—the one-year anniversary of the Olympics’ opening ceremony. Aaawww...here are a few ideas of mine as to what can be done to help the situation.

1. Call up Angelina Jolie - The UN-representative half of the Hollywood power couple has always been willing to help out a worthy cause. From adopting tots off third world countries to lending a sympathetic ear to to those less fortunate; I'm sure she would be delighted to assist.

2. Turn it into a housing development - With a population of over 1.3 billion, goodness knows housing projects are needed just about eveywhere in China. How about turning the masterpiece into a housing development. I'm sure the good folks over there would appreciate it.

3. Have an annual pillow brawl -

TAKEN – Love or hate him Liam Neeson is a god

2009-01-29T12:52:00.000-08:00

Die Zeit für Rache ist gekommen. (The time for revenge has come.)

To be brutally honest, as an eternal fan of action flicks, the previews of the upcoming movie TAKEN had me on edge. Not only am I a fan of Mr. Neeson with his stunning good lucks and seductive voice, I am a fan of revenge. This movie seemed too good to be true. Imagine my surprise when I learned that it was all that it had been hyped up to be – and then some.

TAKEN is the most thrilling movie that I have seen in a long time and I have seen a few good movies. I remember trying to get into the theatre to see the movie 300 with my javelin and being told that I had to leave it outside; what a bummer! Suffice to say, after witnessing Gerald Butler in all his male glory (and getting over my initial angst at not being able to transport my lance into hostile territory), I wondered if there would ever be another hero to steal my heart. Ladies and gentlemen I give you British royalty Liam in full James Bond, Jason Bourne mode. I do think that a franchise should be created with that man heading the new – well maybe the ‘not so new’ generation of super spies, but I digress.

From beginning to end I must admit that I was enthralled with the enigmatic Neeson as he makes his way to France and fights perverts’ one section at a time. During the course of the film, we get many a glimpse of the web of human trafficking and the victims hidden behind the curtain that should not be hung. You can therefore understand why I felt not an ounce of remorse when a man was tortured for information and then left to die within darkened chambers. Neither was I moderately annoyed when Mr. Neeson shot the wife of a former friend in the arm to learn the truth from him. Like he explains for all those interested, ‘it’s only a flesh wound but I will kill her if I have to,’ or something to that extent.

All in all, my ‘impressed’ factor rose to the roof after a death defying car chase, swash buckling jumps unto a moving boat and super ninja skills to take out more than half a dozen highly trained killers. Did I mention that I was impressed? After it was all over I could have cried because I wanted more – so much more, which is why we need a TAKEN franchise people. After you have seen this god of a man take out bad guys you will understand. And all in France no less. What could be better than watching your favourite spy kicking some terrorist ass in the most romantic city in the world!

Like someone said, death has never been more satisfying to watch.

Oui, oui, oui

On to a more serious note, while the movie was solely an action one, the crisis in it was all too real and I got to wondering, what someone like me can do to help the situation? It is a sad state of the world when young girls and women are being sold in the name of profit.

How Cold Was That?

2009-01-29T09:59:00.000-08:00

The cold warmed my bones though I'm not sure how. It came in sweeping yesterday with a raging fury and deep chill that should have frightened me; it didn't. Instead, the snow fell in beautiful, perfect flakes and covered the world in white. The beauty of it all called to me and in an instant I was outside enjoying the fluff.

It should have been cold alright, especially since I was not wearing any shoes or winter jacket. Not because I hate the bulk but dues to the fact that sometimes you have to let go a little. I prayed to myself that there were no bits of broken glass lying around - there wasn't.

My Night Out on the Town

2009-01-28T11:30:00.000-08:00

On the rare occasion that I go out I tend to try enjoying myself as much as possible since it may be a while until someone can lure me out from my den again. During the oh so cold winters, I would much rather remain indoors cooking up a new book instead of traversing through the gunk and to a new bar as many are wont to do during those times. Well, unless it’s snowing. I love the snow and I will endure the cold for half an inch rather than stay inside. These are the pictures taken on my night out with a few friends.

I THINK

2009-01-27T11:38:00.000-08:00

Home

I think I left myself there
In the depth of your sermons and love letters written badly
Within songs unsung and poetry from bleeding hearts
Among my old things in the dark basement where I once existed

I think I left myself there
Beneath the rotting mango leaves and coconut palms
Together with a folded up raincoat in my fathers arms
Next to that old grey house where we sat at lunchtime. Once

Funny thing is…I can’t remember where there was
Or will be
I just…THINK

Who said I hated clothes...

2009-01-26T11:01:00.001-08:00

Growing up my mum was constantly reminding me that I needed to put more clothes on when folks dropped by the house. Ok, not to be a brat or anything but shorts were invented for the purpose of wearing them am I right! Anyway, I grew up on an island. Not only that, I grew up in the countryside. Think lots of trees and a great deal of rivers and the ocean a mere skip and a jump away. Why the hell would I want to wear clothes when a simple bathing suit would do?

As I grew older it was my brother who took offense at my choice of clothing. As a track and field athlete you do not want to restrict your movement dear friends so of course spandex and sports bras were the rage with me. Oh but brother dearest banned me from his social life. He was not to be seen with the ‘back flipping - javelin throwing - love wearing very little clothing sister’. I was banished. The question remained, would I choose my comfort over my blood. Guess what? I wore his trousers and his shirt and even his shoes. Braided up my hair like a hippie and prowled the town looking like a tomboy.
The girls found me rather attractive as a boy (of course they had no idea that I was merely imitating one), and the boys - well lets just say I always got along with the opposite - same sex that day. My brother was less than thrilled and he called my parents with every threat imaginable to banish me from his entire existence. Needless to say his pleas did not fall on deaf ears and mummy called to say that she was proud of me for wearing clothes for once in my life. That ought to have taught him. My dad as usual remained quiet and one evening when I walked into the house told me that I should remain true to myself. My father hardly ever says anything unless he's trippy or had a few so imagine my delight. I have followed his advice ever since.

These days I am wearing a lot more clothes but that does not mean that I don't like dressing down a bit now and then. Of course now I live in the United States and the tri-state area tends to get a bit cold in the winter time. Oh heck what am I talking about, it’s usually freezing. Which is why I have those wonderful pictures to remind me of the days when clothes were optional.

And so I dedicate this to all the folks out there who, after a hard days work just like to breathe a little. To all of you who are scared to show a bit of skin or have been hiding a slight gut for a few months now. It is to the man who is scared of being true to himself and the young woman afraid that someone will judge harshly. I say screw the critics yes! How about you do this one for yourself. After all, it does feel good to defy silly expectations.

So go bare and don't care...well feel free to leave a little to the imagination actually. Never hurts. And to my big brother who's all grown up now...ha ha. I get to create posts like these and remember the days of opression. Just so you know. Eat my shorts Anderson Stoute!

Who said I hated clothes anyway? I just don't like much.

Highway of Tears

2009-01-25T14:22:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I came across an article on the internet that chilled my blood and had this intensely fearful feeling trying to burst out from the pit of my stomach. Now, you may think that I am being paranoid or even crazy but after I had read my fill I decided to try getting more information about the highway of tears. It seems that this stretch of highway in British Columbia called the 'Highway of Tears,' has been known to attract many young female hitchikers and ultimately claim their lives.

This may sound like a ghost story but the enormity of the situation is not lost on someone like myself who has been known to enjoy a daring hitch hike with my sisters on occasion. Of course I am from a small Caribbean where murders are few and caring motorists are many.

The murders of women--most of them Aboriginal--along Canada's Highway 16 in British Columbia stirred advocates to request a shuttle service to reduce hitchhiking on the dangerous road. A year later, women are still sticking their thumbs out.

The Highway of Tears MISSING and MURDERED are officially thirty three, however, the numbers are believed to be much higher with cases going back as far as 1969. That amounts to thirty years of young, mostly Native girls disappearing.

There are a few websites dedicated to the missing but I thought that I should add my two cents because firstly, I am a young woman and ultimately as a human being this does concern me greatly.

For 3 decades now over 36 females have disappeared along desolateHighway 16 in Canada, which winds for 450 miles from the Rockies to the Pacific. Along this remote highway, women, mostly in their teens and 20s, have been found murdered in the past 30 years. Dozens more have disappeared.

My heart goes out to these young women and their families and they will be forever in my thoughts and prayers. Below are the links to the various websites where you can find more information about these happenings.

Adios...Cherry

http://www.highwayoftears.ca/

http://wordpress.com/tag/highway-of-tears/

http://news.webshots.com/album/559930185qtTnAK

http://crimsonshadows.net/content/view/31/49/

http://au.lifestyle.yahoo.com/b/marie-claire/4256/highway-of-tears/

http://www.womensenews.org/article.cfm/dyn/aid/3388/context/archive

Is there a God?

2009-01-24T05:54:00.000-08:00

I was browsing the news today and came across this artists impression of a London bus with the slogan 'There's probably no God. Stop worrying and enjoy your life'. Of course there has been numerous complaints and criticism by those staunch 'Christ' supporters but would you have expected anything less?

We see images of Jesus Christ everywhere we go and we are constantly bombarded with quotes from the bible in our everyday life. Now for those who believe in a higher power that is all well and good but what about those who don't?

I cannot condemn, nor accept since it is not my place. For that matter, everyone should be given the reign to make their own choices. Remember the crusades when so many died for the church? Look at the killings going on in the name of Islam. Are we a better society because we believe in a being that we are not entirely certain exists or is it just an excuse to continue with our narcissism.

To those who are livid at the bus company slogan I say get over it. Live and let live should be the new motto of this world. Believe in your God, or gods in some cases but learn to accept those who do not. The world is changing and we along with it - stop complaining and start living.

THE KINLAND JOURNALS BOOK I - LILLITH

2009-01-22T04:12:00.001-08:00

There is a legend as old as time itself. A prophesy written on parchment so ancient it is said they precede the earths creation. In darkened chambers they lay protected by the Nightguards, creatures so deadly that even the greatest warrior kings have not dared stand against them. Many speculate that the day will come when those chosen will retrieve these scrolls which will either protect or destroy the ones who bear them. The time is at hand. The day draws near. And the evil queen who almost became Keeper of the Scrolls once a thousand of years ago is being released from her dungeons.

A strange beast rose from the darkness. It cast shadows upon the cold grey walls leaving a feeling of dread wherever it fell. Silenced beckoned the hollow prisoner. Its skin dropped in places where skin should not be. Cold, grey eyes stared into a million pieces of darkness that rolled into one, leaving the room an empty pillar of midnight that ran on forever.

There was a reason why the lights were never on. Down in the deepest cauldrons of a personal hell, the notorious princess Nebula of the skies had been transformed into something gruesome, a terrible creature with ill fitting skin that cried at its very reflection.

A loud noise echoed within the great walls. The large doors were thrown open allowing slivers of light to enter the damp room. A single black boot stepped forward and the horrendous creature inched back against the moss green walls. The second boot stepped in followed by a loud thump as a huge guard stumbled down the steps and into the night.

Nebula scurried along the floor and into the deep black hole where she had hidden for more than a thousand years. She looked on as bright lights filled her prison when a dozen moon riders came into view. Who said the moon only reflected light she thought as the blinding spots of lights inched down the narrow stairs and rested beside her cot.

“She is not here,” a rider whispered. His light was fading fast but she could make out the confused expression on his face as he stared into the dark.

“Where else would she be?” another demanded. Piston had come. She could see the cruel twist of his mouth and a blue scar that split his face in half. That had been the price he had paid for fighting on her side. Loyalty such as this did not go unpunished and he had felt her father’s wrath.

“Maybe she escaped already,” There were loud murmurs as they discussed the possibility among themselves.

“Had she escaped no one would have been left alive,” they finally decided. Nebula smiled at the thought of ripping out the hearts of those who had kept her captive. They would feel her wrath she decided, her brother most of all for his blatant betrayal.

“Your majesty,” Piston called. He was merely a pale wisp of light by now but the blue scar throbbed horribly against his face like a giant tic. She tried to speak but no words came for the form in which she had been imprisoned made it impossible to utter a word. She threw a clean white bone in his direction and stared as twelve pairs of feet got into battle formation and advanced as a single unit. When they came to the mouth of the cave the soldiers stopped and Piston alone moved into its depth.

“Stay back,” he warned the others. She may not want you to see her right now.” He crouched low and entered the cold space where his former mistress now pressed, moaning loudly in an effort to speak.

“Your majesty,” Piston called once more. He became brighter until the light was blinding and the creature dashed away from him, finally settling against the far wall.

“What have they done to you?” he asked. The pity in his voice was obvious and it was more that the former princess could bear and Nebula melted into a large vat of tears onto the floor.

“Bring the Charions here,” he demanded referring to the coven of witches who once did her bidding.

“Why do we need the Charions?” Star, a young Rider called from the fold.

“To get our queen back,” he responded, “now do as I command,” He turned to look at the puddle which was slowly turning back into its ghastly form.

“What have they done to you?” he asked again. It was only then that he noticed the discarded human bones shaped into the form of a single word on the ground. She pointed at it and burst once more into bitter tears.

L I L L I T H they spelled. The rider gazed at the word until finally recognition grew in his eyes and suddenly Piston understood.

“LILLITH,” he whispered in the glowing darkness. The skies moved with a loud roar and the creature nodded its ugly head.

“Queen Lillith.” The Rider said once more and he bowed deeply in the blinding darkness.

Barack Obama Inauguration Day Pictures

2009-01-20T04:20:00.000-08:00

Snow Diving - Don't try this at home

2009-01-17T20:35:00.000-08:00

An old video found hidden on one of my drives.

The life of a track athlete...fun!

CONFESSIONS OF A VAMPIRE (Stellar's Story)

2009-01-16T22:32:00.000-08:00

1 – STELLA LAROUCHE / VAMPIRE

I have not seen the sun in over a hundred years. I have not felt its warm, golden glow upon my skin or stared into bright early mornings when the sky is a kaleidoscope of untamable beauty. I have not lived. In my world there can be no mistakes. I am constantly on the edge of my seat much like a kid in a theatre; and the world is not as forgiving when I spill a drink.

The story I am about to tell you is riddled with guilt and grief and regrets and if you are one of those people who likes happy endings it is better that you stop now. This is by no means a fairy tale and it was never meant to be told but circumstances have forced my hand and I can no longer bear the burdens of my life alone. The world must know. My name is Stella LaRouche and I am a vampire.

A hundred and sixty seven years ago I became infected by a man whose legacy of evil will live on in the history books forever. That man, along with the young girl with whom he travelled, have become folk heroes in the fight against evil plantation owners and their bid enslave the masses. That young girl was me and the stories are somewhat true. We are no heroes however. The rivers ran red with the blood of innocents and damned alike and it still sickens me that I was an unwilling participant of a time remembered only as the ‘Black Dread.”

There is more to this story of course. It is a long and sordid tale that has never been told and by the time this is all over you will have chosen a side on which to stand. You may want to think that life is a constant battle between good and evil or black and white but the world does not operate on such assumptions. There are always varying shades of grey and we are left to decide where we stand among it all.

To say that longevity is welcome in my world is to disregard the things that are absent. There are no loved ones in the shelter of my shell; no one to wave gentle goodbyes when I depart in the early breath of evening and no soul to whisper welcoming hellos when I return. It has not always been like this. There was a time when there was life in me. Short but human moments when I was wild and free and the pressures of the world were not all consuming, but that is another story. A tale better left for another time.

You may be thinking that a long life is preferable to growing old and finally fading into nothing but it is a lot more complicated. I have watched the people I cared for grow old…and die. I have looked on as the blood of innocents was spilled to make space for more evil and I have suffered through more bitterness than you would think possible.

Nights were made so that I could roam free and become a part of something grand but even that no longer fuels my fire. I no longer feel at peace in the moonlight. The light always seems too dim and looking at deadly shadows chase after nothing invites me to crawl into dark corners and remain hidden. Time is slowly tearing away at the fabric that holds my life together and the days crawl by so slowly it seems almost as if time stands still for hours on end just because it can.

Today is the last day of my old life. It is the day when I say goodbye to all the things that have sustained me for over twelve years and move on to another place. Because the island where I live is so small it is rather difficult to remain in one place for too long. People begin noticing things and before long they become inquisitive enough to poke into places that are better left alone. They notice that the mansion on the hill seems vacant during the day although at nights shadows lurk within. They notice that cruel men disappear, never to be heard from again and they also notice that the young girl whose face twelve years ago was unlined and pretty has remained unlined and pretty.

My tale begins long before these confessions but there is not enough paper in the world to hold it all. You will learn bits and pieces of the thing that I am but the entire puzzle cannot be yet put together.

I had risen from the sleep of death only an hour earlier. The night was still young and I looked around the empty house that held so much, yet so little of me. After thirteen years it was time to move on yet again in order to avoid detection. Already there were rumors of some deep evil lurking within the shadows and many of those who lived within miles of my place knew that there was no life inside the walls. The house had already been sold and for that I was grateful. My accountant had also assisted me in moving my money around into places where too many questions would not be asked. He had been with me for seven years and knew a lot more about me than the ordinary person.

There were only two packets of blood in the refrigerator and I drank them slowly. When I was finished I walked into the empty bathroom to take a shower. I had not yet turned the water on when something prickled behind my ear and I heard noises coming up to the house. The new owners were foreigners and they would not be arriving until next week. Ben, my go to guy was not in the country and I was not expecting any visitors. I put my robe back on and listened closely as six pairs of hands tore through the thick vines surrounding my property. I would have waited for them inside the house but I did not want to stain the carpet (if it got to that) as I did not feel like cleaning any messes before I left. I walked outside barefooted, which I do not do often, and waited behind a patch of strawberry that had crept in on their own.

The men walking to my house were no experts because they were making enough noise to wake the dead. Me. The first was tall with an oblong head and frightened eyes that darted all over. The second was short and muscular with a perpetual mean marring his mixed features. He would have been handsome if he smiled but I was guessing that he never did. The third was no more that six feet tall with toned arms and gleaming skin. He was ruggedly handsome in the movie star sort of way and seemed out of place between the other two. They were all carrying cutlasses (machetes for those of you who don’t know any better).

“Should we break the door down?” Oblong head asked. He did not score very high in the intelligence department, I surmised.

“We could kick it in.” Muscular agreed. Not that bright either, which left only one.

“We could just knock.” Handsome said. Brains plus looks. That my friends is one lethal combination.

“Yes why don’t you just knock?” I walked out from my vantage point and stood before them. Oblong head had a look on his face that said I was making this way too easy. He stepped forward with his blade but handsome held him back. “Why don’t you fellas just walk away from here and we’ll forget this little incident yes!” I substituted fire for ice.

“Not when we’re getting paid a fortune for offing you.” Oblong head said.

“Shut up Steve.” Handsome told him and not so very bright man bristled but remained quiet. “Like the man said, we were paid to do a job.” He continued.

“And is that job worth your life?” I took another step forward. I was taller than two, handsome had me by a few inches. “Because if you decide to go along with this plan your life will no longer be your own.” I glowed softly under the faint light and Steve took a careful step back but Muscles was not as smart. He lunged towards me and I twisted to the side causing him to run straight into the door. He fell, groaning into the ground. “See what I mean.” I told the other two. “Who sent you here?”

Muscles got up from the ground and attacked me from behind. I did not have to turn around to stomp my feet into his belly and I caught the blade as it fell from his hands. “You got some skills I can give you that.” Handsome said. “Are you just as good in bed?” Well wouldn’t he like to know? Any other time I might have taken him up on his offer but as you will soon find out I really hate it when people try to kill me.

“Your turn.” I told oblong head. “I’m saving the pretty one for last.” Wouldn’t you know it they attacked together? I’ve taken a few sword fighting classes in my time but the cutlass not a weapon made for fighting. It was a bloody farming tool for crying out loud. Blades clashed together and sparks flew in the air. I found out that I was enjoying the fight a lot more than I should. Muscles attacked me from the back again and I sliced the blade through his arm. Handsome tried a blow to my head but I deflected that too and sent him flying in the direction of the trees. Oblong head could not believe his eyes at what he had just seen. He shouted a battle cry and ran at me, weapon pointed head on. I grabbed his hands, broke it at the elbow and threw him at muscles.

I stood over the two of them extremely angry that they had interfered with my quiet evening. “Now will you tell me who sent you?” I placed a blade at each of their throats and waited to see who would sing first. Steve won. “His name was Harry.” He cried. “Said that he would pay each of us five grand if we got rid of you. I was a trifle peeved that I was only worth fifteen thousand dollars.

“So you go around killing women at the command of an idiot like Harry. Was his last name Bruckheimer by the way?” Muscles nodded. He figured that he had nothing to lose and was finally ready to bargain for his life. I wanted to kill them, I really did but I did not want my new life to begin with death. “Stand up, both of you.” I said and they got as quickly as they could to their feet. Muscles was bleeding like a stuck pig and Steve was leaning to one side in an effort to take the pressure off his arm.

“Please don’t kill us.” Steve begged. There were fat tears rolling down his cheeks and I almost felt sorry for him. “We were just following orders.”

“What’s your name?” I asked muscles.

Da – Dana Jones.” He said miserably. I hoped that he was not lying because I would definitely kill him for that.

“And yours?” Steve was ready to bolt.

“Steven James.”

“The one in the trees. The pretty one?”

“Anderson,” Steve supplied.

“Anderson what?”

“Cooper.” He told me and I began laughing. “Are you shitting me?”

“I ain’t shitting you ma am – miss – my lady.” They must have noticed that I looked like a teenager. Most people are uncertain how to address me because I look young but I can assure you that I sound extremely adult.

“Take your clothes off.” I said, still pointing the weapons at them. They looked uncertain but I lifted my hand into the air and the sight scared them into action. Steven could hardly get his shirt past his elbow because I was damn sure that hand was hurting and Dana looked as pale as…well as pale as a vampire. It turned out that Muscles (Dana) was muscular everywhere except where it counted and Steve was packing heat.

“You’re lucky that I am a very forgiving woman.” I told them. “When you leave here you forget everything that happened tonight you hear.”

“Yes.” Steven could not wait to leave.

“What’s my name?” I asked.

“Harry never told us,” Dana replied. “He told us names and such was not important.”

“Ok. Go. Next time I see you you’re both dead.”

“What about Anderson?” Steven wanted to know.

“Get the fuck away from here.” I shouted and they bolted off, their privates bouncing as they went.

Anderson had crawled to a sitting position when I walked up to him. His cutlass was nowhere to be found and I assumed that he had lost it when I tossed him off. “So you came here to kill me did you?” I asked in a very weary voice. “I don’t take kindly to threats against my life and I really hate it when people attack me.”

“What are you gonna do?” He whimpered. His words were slurred and I would have missed it if I was not listening very carefully.

“I won’t kill you if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve already sent your friends off. Naked.”

“Why?” He wanted to know. His heir was thick and white and I brushed it away from the blood on his face.

“Because I hate violence.”

“I needed the money.”

“You also tried to kill me.”

“But you won’t kill me.”

“No. But you need to stay away from people like Harry.” His eyes widened. Was he surprised that I had found out who had sent some thugs to kill me? “That bastard Harry works for me and he sent you here to get rid of me because I happen to be a very wealthy woman and –”

He did not let me finish. “You’re just a girl.”

“I may look like a girl but there’s more to me than my face is telling.” I helped him to his feet.

“I won’t take my clothes off.” He said.

“I can take it off for you, you may like that more.” He almost smiled and I was tempted to take him to bed but you don’t sleep with a man who just tried to kill you. I also did not want him to take his clothes off because I was not sure what I would do if he did. “Don’t come looking for me. I promise next time I won’t be this lenient.” I walked away from him, cutlass still in hand.

“So you’re just letting me go? I tried to kill you.”

“And I am saving your life. Your friends should be in the hospital if they’re smart enough. You seem intelligent so you be the brain of this terrible trio and remind them that next time my kiss will be death.”

“Thank You.” His words surprised me and I turned back.

“You’re not out of the clear yet.” To him absolute credit he strolled away looking like a million dollars.

I threw the cutlasses away, tossed the clothes and went inside. The first thing I did was place a call to the man who had just tried to kill me. “Meet me at the Cabana in two hours.” I told him. If he sounded surprised to hear my voice he was hiding it well but he was nervous that much was evident from our conversation.

“How are you?” He began, making polite conversation but I cut him off abruptly. I called Ben and asked him to recommend a new accountant as soon as he received my message. I took my shower.

I made certain to dress carefully. The pant suit was a silken beige colored outfit that caressed me lovingly. I put on brown sandals and went outside to get into the only car remaining on the lot. All the others had already been taken to my new home. The coffee colored Phantom Rolls Royce had been as a gift from me to me on my last birthday. It took me to my destination where the patrons gaped first at the car and then the woman who walked out of it. I figured we must have cut a pretty striking figure when I heard a plate clatter and a waiter rush behind the bar in embarrassment.

My accountant, Mr. Bruckheimer was already seated when I entered the restaurant. Mr. B is in his late fifties, a pale, yellow man with bat like features and intense brown eyes. He greeted me like I was royalty and why wouldn’t he? I had made Mr. B a very rich man. Wonderful to see you my dear,” he bowed. “Everything is in place of course.” The nerve of that thief! I did not offer my hand. My skin I have heard is as cold as the deepest depths of hell and as unbending as Mediterranean marble. I nodded in return. “It is just delightful that you are finally here,” he babbled

I knew that there was ice in my eyes when I smiled, “I do wish that I could say the same thing.” Surprise flickered in his eyes but he was smart enough to contain it quickly. He began smiling – faltered. He knew that I knew what he had done. He was also aware of my reputation; people who crossed me did not live long enough to repeat their mistake. There was usually no trace of them either.

The silk handkerchief was out in a flash and he was wiping his brow in an effort to prevent the large beads of sweat from disturbing his pristine ivory suit. That was the least of his worries. I could feel the fear as he glanced nervously towards the door.

“Sit.” My voice was flat – intense – disturbing. He plopped hurriedly into the chair while I took my precious time to show him who was the boss.
The waitress approached. She glided across the carpeted floor with a large smile on her face and an expression of pure joy. Young lady had just finished smooching with the manager I decided. Mr. B averted his eyes when she arrived. By her name tag I learned that her name was Miriam. She was a somewhat pretty girl with fair skin and disinterested eyes. Miriam had also been Moses sister in the bible. Interesting I thought.

She popped a large, pink bubble and pulled a pad from her apron. “What can I get ya?”

“A glass of water for the gentleman – he seems to be –” I could not find anything appropriate.

Miriam glanced up from her pad and turned her nose up in disgust, “sweating himself to death?” she helped.

That wasn’t exactly what I was looking for but it would do. “Precisely.”

She turned her attention to me, “and what about –” Any question Miriam was about to ask was lost in the valley of her throat. Her pencil clattered to the floor and the pad trembled violently within her slight fingers.

“I’m not hungry.” I had the urge to add, ‘yet’ but the poor girl was frightened enough as it was. I seem to have that effect on people. They were either drawn to me or terrified by my angelic face. Ha! Usually it was a combination of both. Silly humans.

She bent over to pick the pencil off the floor and I could smell the sweet, sharp scent of blood coursing through her veins. Before I knew it she was rushing back in the direction from which she came. I smiled bitterly.

“So Mr. Harris Bruckheimer –” I stressed the Mr. for good measure. “You have much news for me do you not?”

He gulped loudly, “Yes I do.”

“Well spit it out then,” I already knew what the news was; however, I wanted to hear it from his lips. He was going to tell me that everything was wonderful when in fact he was beginning to suction my funds into his accounts. “I happen to be a very busy woman and I have very little time to spare. Speak.”

“Well – well…” He began.

“Let me help you.” I finally said. “You tried to have me killed Mr. B.” I lifted the steak knife from its napkin and moved it through the air. He jumped from the chair but I grabbed his hand and brought him back down. “Please don’t make a scene. I can snuff your life out so quickly that no one here will notice. Or I can make it very messy.” I lifted the stainless steel fork, careful to use the napkin because you never know. “Imagine what would happen if I thrust this in your throat?” He looked as though he was ready to begin weeping but instead urinated on himself. I smelled it as though it was burning through my throat.

“I’m a weak man.” He cried. “I don’t know what I was doing.”

“You were being greedy. I have made you a very rich man but you think that just because I look like a child that you can steal from me, that I’m stupid or gullible? I can assure you my dear man that I am not.”

“No you are not.” He agreed.

My phone rang and Ben gave me the name of an accountant who would serve me well. “Thank you.” I told him sincerely because he had called me while on vacation.

“Don’t mention it. Settling in yet?”

“Soon.”

“You’re fired.” I told Harry after I hung up. He brought a thin hand to his neck and gasped for air. “You really think I would keep you on after your little stunt? Count yourself lucky because you are still breathing.” For how long though I was not so sure. I got up and began walking away.

“Wait.” He called to my departing back. I stopped but did not turn around. There were more eyes on me now because Harry was causing a scene. “What do I do now?”

“Find a very deep hole and bury your self.”

My valet was extremely pleased with his tip, plus he has gotten to handle my ride. I smiled at him and he was nice enough to open the door and close it behind me. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Legolas.”

“Like the book?”

“The same.”

Harry was walking out of the restaurant when I drove away. I heard that he died that evening in his sleep. The doctors were baffled because he had seemed to be a very healthy man. Poor, poor Harry.

The Thing about Twilight - It Sucks!

2009-01-16T18:58:00.000-08:00

Recently I picked up the remarkable literary phenomena otherwise known as Stephanie Meyer's Twilight and received the shock of my life. It sucks! - and not in a good way. Imagine my excitement when I heard that there was a new vampire in town. Boy oh boy was my heart afflutter. Having read the Southern Vampire series and fallen in love with the spectacular viking Eric you may very well understand my exhilaration. Schooled in the art of Ann Rice and the delightful Lestat, you can imagine my burgeoning heartbeat at the news. From "Dracula" to "The Vampyre', "I Am Legend" to "Let the Right One In", I have had my fill of the great works related to the undead and I was poised for yet another soul wrenching tale.

Alas. My poor brain was befuddled, my mind was muddled and the more I read, the more incensed I became. This here in my hand was the book that had taught grown women to fell young again. That had swept through the teenage nation like a chorous of Backstreet Boys and reigned on Amazon. How could that be? At first, I though that I was not reading the story right. That I had forgotten something, somewhere in the breaths of time, that I was being too critical. I tried and tried again but still nothing came clear and the autrocity that was "Twilight" revealed itself. It is horrid.

Never in my life have I heard of vegetarian vampires. Isn't the whole purpose of vegetarianism to stay away from blood? And yet they fed on animals in this terribly crafted tale by a woman who may have a lot to say, but says it terribly. I am not a published writer but I would be ashamed to call such a piece of crap my own if I were. I have heard that young girls are swooning at the sight of the fictional Edward Cullen aka Cedric Diggory aka Robert Pattinson - for crying out loud children!

So...when my sister in law called and told me what a wonderful Love Story the movie had been I decided that she was banned from my life. My brother remarked that it was an incredibly movie and I stopped talking to him too. I will have no part in this idiot vampire tale from anyone; and I shall never read or see anything pertaining to Twilight even on the threat of death. My hatred of everything Twilight is deep and lethal and this seemed like the perfect forum to vent.

Am I being bitter? Not really

Mean? Nah!

Cruel? Not on purpose

Harsh? Hell no!

If I could rewrite history I would make it so that Twilight never existed. The fact that is does sickens me. Considering that I could hardly finish the first book, I would not even pick up a second, however there is some more interesting news. Bella tries to kill herself? Because of Edward? Well go figure! Does anyone else think that Edward is a stalker? That Bella is a simpering idiot who has no sense of independence whatsoever and could not live without a man? Don't get me wrong. Power to the women who continues in the traditional roles of a housewife but dammitt could she be more pathetic! Thank goodness I do not have any teenage daughters. Twilight would be banned in my home and everywhere else that child of mine would roam. But then again, I would not be raising a child who reads Twilight.

Yes, I may get a death threat or a thousand if anyone from the Twi-Club reads this but I am not bothered really. The thing about Twilight is that it Sucks! Literally...but then again, that's just me.

FOR I HAVE LOVED HER ALWAYS...MY BEAUTIFUL DOMINICA!

2009-01-12T22:29:00.000-08:00

Me on my rooftop enjoying the sun

Fishing boats in my village - San Sauveur

Tranquility...that's Dominica

Green, green everywhere

I think this is Sari Sari...

The Whales are plentiful

The Emerald Pool...

One of Trafalgar's Twin Falls

Yet another fall...they are everywhere

Our Suns are breathtaking

Like heaven breathes on you...

More green leading to nowhere

Sunsets...I miss them so

Rivers so clear - 365 of them

Our history - an ancient Sugar Plantation

Civilization in the midst of it all

Mossy rocks to glide on...but that's just me

Portsmouth

Coconut trees swaying gently with the breeze

Yes. It is that beautiful.

Roseau

Sulphur Spring - stinks terribly but good for you

Freshwater Lake

Random Dominica

So many I've forgotten their names

Pink anthuriums, they're everywhere

Riviere L'or

HGTV Dream Home

2009-01-03T14:52:00.001-08:00

Bloody' Scammers!

2009-01-03T10:33:00.000-08:00

Well I tell you I am just tired of scammers coming up with new and inventive ways to make a mess of people's lives. What I wouldn't do to be a hacker and be able to find out whom, and exactly where they are. I am so frustrated at the same 'ol shit that I would literally rip some b***s off just to prove my point. So, this guy named Kenny James (Tell me how original this name sounds), tried to get me to baby sit his daughters Sarah and Jessica. Come on Kenny! And I won't include what I wrote since there is a lot of information that the regular folk does not need, but listen to this asshole and his wonderful command of the English Language. Yes I am being sarcastic!

Hello Cherry,
Thanks for your email,i really appreciate your response to my craigslist posting.Happy New Year To You. My name is Kenny James from London in the UK. I am a 33 yrs old business man.I am into Exports of Raw Materials like Rubber,Cotton,petroleum Jelly etc. I have my warehouses in Europe and West Africa precisely Ghana.I will be coming very soon to DELAWARE in the United states before the end of January,2009. with my kids, Sarah and Jessica (3 and 5 yrs old respectively). I lost my wife in an auto crash few months ago in England and ever since,it has not been easy for me and my kids to cope without her. I do not have any plan to remarry soon because am missing my wife everyday.Although,before i get to the United States,i may have a stop over somewhere may be in Malaysia or Trinidad and Tobago to see some of my clients,but for now,i have not made up my mind on where i will like to visit between these places that i mentioned before i get to the United States.I want to know how convinient it would be to you because we may be staying in an hotel,though i dont like to stay in hotels because of my daughters but it would be good if we can have a nice apartment that would not be too far from you throughout our stay. I would try have the arrangement of where to stay done as soon as possible....I will definitely let you know where i would be living but i guess it would not be far from you.Although,i would be glad if you can help me get a place like two bedroom apartment with a reasonable rent price ($1500 to $2,000 per month),let me know . Please i want you to let me know your free times / schedule daily within a week for the 5 weeks we are spending there may be it would go with my plans in the United States.Please let me know the exact location you live.Most of the time Monday to Friday,i would not be with my kids because i have a small proposed raw materials processing factory in the UK. which will definitely go into production in some few weeks to come after my training in the United States. A company is ready to train me for 4 weeks in Delaware,though am supposed to have come earlier than this but there is a lot of works to do here in London. I want to know how much you will take for an hour.Let me know where you stay precisely,your daily routine works and available times daily between Monday -------Friday.Please i want to know little about you and your background.Do you have Kids?If yes,how many are they and how old are they?Are you married?How about your family?Do you drink?Do you smoke?Do you drive and do you have a car?Will you have enough time to take care of my kids when am not with them?Please get back as soon as possible telling me little about you.Get back as soon as possible. Regards,

Kenny James

Hello Cherry,
Thanks for your email again.Happy New Year to you and your family.I have read enough about you .I think your time frame may go with what i have in mind in term of my schedule when i come over with my kids to the United states ..You will take care of my kids Monday to Friday for four weeks. We shall come before the end of January,2009. I can only afford $15 per hour for the two kids. I have read all you said and i think you are ok for my kids. I will definitely give you a call later. I just think you are the best to take care of my daughters,though some other people have shown interest in babysitting my daughters in your city. I will pay you through my client in the United States who owes me some money. I have already informed him about my trip to the United States and he has agreed to send some money to you so that you will help me pay for my accomodation and also do some shopping for my kids prior to our arrival. I also have it in mind to pay you a week salary ahead of my coming should in case you needed some money to put things in place or you needed to buy something for yourself for the sake of our coming. I will be coming to your city but precisely cannot tell the particular area for now.Can you help me get a place that is not too far from you?Please be considerate about the rent price too,ok.I am looking at $1,500 to $2,000 for a month. My kids like cartoon,like to go beach at times but i think you are in winter now?Beach will not be necessary for now,i also take them to cinema may be twice in a month if i have time. Both of them like to watch movies on weekends,though i think i would be there on weekends to take them to cinemas.I shall come with some of their books for home works.They both dislike cold water especially during bathing . I will be coming with some soaps for bathing and washing,some chocolates and some more things they needed always.I will also be there with some food stuffs that will take them for up to 3 weeks.I will also have to come with car seats.If you are interested in taking care of my kids, send to me your full contact details. Your full names,Full address with Zip code,Telephone number,Location,Nationality. Do you have any job at all? I want to know also may be you have a bank account where you can deposit check incase if my client sends you a check.Please note: I do not need your bank account info. for any reason,ok.I only needed to know may be you have a bank account if my client sends you a check so that you would be able to cash it easily in your bank. Please get back to me with your full names and address + Telephone number if you are interested in taking care of my girls.Get back as soon as possible.
Kenny James

My cell Number + 44 703 195 4993

Hello Cherry,
Pls am so surprised about your expression towards me.Who asked for your bank info???Please can you read and understand simple english Language?Please read carefully my last email because i only said that i needed to know if you have a bank account where you can depsoit check or money orders should incase my client sends you a check.Anyway,am not happy about this development.
Kenny. (This is after I told him that I had a bank account but my lawyer did not like me giving out my information. )

Oh thanks.I do not want you anymore because you sound so insultive,ok.I will get someone else who has the moral and fear of God than you do.
Kenny (would someone please tell me what fear of God has to do with anything...wow!)

I'll post more as soon as I hear more.

I'D RATHER NOT GO NAKED THAN WEAR FUR

2009-01-02T09:00:00.000-08:00

I am all for banning fur and the likes since some of us take it way to far when it comes to the destruction of those creatures with less intelligence than we do. Peta's I'd Rather Go Naked Than Wear Fur Campaign, however, is just taking the trend of not wearing fur a bit too far. Would you tell the Inuit or the Eskimoes to go naked? I think not! In sub-zero temperature such as those seen in Siberia, Russia and Greenland to strip for the cause?

Celebrities (or should I say wannabe celebrities), who go naked for PETA are mostly attention grabbers in my book. Of course there may be a few genuine artifacts thrown in somewhere but my thoughts is that they want to take their clothes off. Not for the sake of the animals mind you, but out of sheer public campaigns for their own selfish agendas.

I won't mention names although it is quite easy to click on a few websites to find the culprits. Naked as the day they were born or sometimes with a purse or some other ridiculous accessory hiding their most private of places. I wonder what they would do if the only option was to wear fear or die from hypothermia? I don't know about you ladies - or men but I'd rather don some innocent skin than freeze my ass to death. But that's just me.

Do you think that a certain Baywatch babe would die for the cause? Or a particular Polish beauty would opt for freezing temperatures rather than drench herself in mink? Yes, there are those ridiculous so called fashionastas who wear fur for no apparent reason. Not only is it ugly but it is demeaning. But to stand up and say that you would rather go naked than cause an animal pain? Get off your high horses already!

When it comes down to it, I think every one of those idiots would pull a Sarah Palin and hunt a polar bear for much needed warmth. My suggestion is drop them all in Antartica with no clothes on. The winner is the first one to decide that they would rather not go naked.

The Heck With That!

2008-12-22T10:20:00.000-08:00

School sucks so I quit! Well it was mostly track sucked but nonetheless. I figure that with colleges being packed with kids these days we're all going to be unable to find jobs when its all said and done. My good friend was an English major and graduated this past June with no employment prospects. I suggested that she become a teacher but have you seen the news lately? Stabbings, shootings, what next? bombings? Are kids these days just confused or just ill advised. I wonder what happened to make that young fella attack a few of his classmates with a knife. And what about the shootings at Virginia Tech?

Crazy World or just crazy kids!

What do we expect when our televisions are bombarded with violence from just plain movies to the reality of Afghanistan. What a sorry state the world is in.
School sucks so I quit! I guess I just got scared that the guy my lab teacher failed may just return to class with a warped sense of purpose and a grudge. Maybe he is the lucky one.