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	<title>The Space Between Words</title>
	<updated>2008-08-20T19:32:41Z</updated>
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	<entry>
		<title>Connect the dots</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2008/07/29/connect-the-dots.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2008-07-29:bff09824-3fa9-42f4-b1bf-d67ad84eca12</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Random Thought Process" />
		<updated>2008-08-01T09:11:16Z</updated>
		<published>2008-07-29T14:28:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[I'm guilty of being on the down low. Still here, survived the 5.4 earthquake here in So Ca. I'm always awestruck at the realization that there is a force far greater than we are. Life is a temporary, fleeting, ephemeral light show. The truth is, none of us own anything, we lease the land, we are floating on a marble-like globe ball, in outer space.<br><br>Connect the dots. Ok there's more than our myopic world, our domicile, where we lay our head at night. Recently I thought, I need to get out there, revisit old haunts, connect with those I've met along the way. So yes...I started doing random searches on facebook. So far I have "32 friends" Many folks I've known, don't exist in that
stratosphere. I searched for a few ex-boyfriends, classmates, castmate's
from shows I've been in (Theater and the like)<br><br>I noticed there's facebook folks, like myspace peeps that collect people like numbers. That won't be me. Look at someones page and find a candy assortment of eye candy babes, or suicide girls. I've been around..so my "friends" are the eclectic sort.<br><br>On another topic there's the dating life that has resurfaced, my summer vista, a complementary man to create some sparks, for hopefully longer than one nanosecond. Is it is so difficult to find "the one" Still waitin', wishin' hopin....<br>So if you're out there. reveal yourself. Hint: I'm a romantic, farfalla<br><br><img src="http://images.quickblogcast.com/54720-48033/rutlingerbutterflylady.JPG" border="0" height="466" width="298"><br><br>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Ah Love let us be true....</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2008/04/20/ah-love-let-us-be-true.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2008-04-20:c1b6b356-2dd7-483b-b100-2ac1f6ffa95d</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Writing process" />
		<updated>2008-04-20T17:14:18Z</updated>
		<published>2008-04-20T16:49:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<strong>The Victorians</strong><br>
&nbsp;<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/1869_lind_polonaise-1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-40" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/1869_lind_polonaise-1.jpg" alt="" height="389" width="386"></a><a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/beauty_awakens_collage_2.jpg"> </a><br>
<br>
For Christina to be around so much death, this must have taken its toll
on her. She was especially close to her brother whose wife killed
herself after the death of their still born child. The poem called;
Song has the feeling of melancholy, and yet there is an unmistakable
sense of ones mortality, life’s ephemeral quality.
<br>
<em><br>
When I am dead my dearest. <br>
Sing no sad songs for me;
<br>
Plant thou no roses at my head,
<br>
Nor shady cypress tree:</em>
(Song, 75)

<br>
<br>
The magical world of goblins and fruit has a childlike quality amidst
the succulent fruits plucked from vines. One hears how the Victorians
really enjoyed their sumptuous feasts?
In the United States post Industrial age, everything is drive-through
and 5 minutes meals. The closest I have come to a more leisure time was
in Iran, with my Persian family, and with the Italians in Italy (where
one works to live.
The Victorians were not as repressed as the undergarments they were
made to wear. The floor length dresses hid feminine curves, all the
more erotic when you read the fervent unconscious desires of Christina
Rossetti! The poets and painters of the day do however, offer a glimpse
into thie world and provide an intimate view. Reading the lives of the
poets, even from a Norton Anthology is a rather compressed perspective,
but it does offer a glimpse.
<strong><br>
<br>
Confession: </strong>I love reading the introductions to learn about the
lives of the poets, sometimes more than the actual works. Side by side
however, it gives one a complimentary view.
<strong><br>
<br>
Interesting factoids: </strong>Chastity Belts: is it fact or fiction? Turns
out it may have sprung up during the 19th century, not the middle ages
as some might think. In fact, they were “anti masturbation devices for
both men and women, although now they appear to be more S&amp; M props.
Sexual repressions aside, some of the written works are wonderful!
Even Oscar Wilde’s quotations taken out of context are great fun.
Quotes like:
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
I’m a bit late in getting my 10 quotations for my journal (To span one
month's time, so the following will contain at least 20 some odd quotes
and journalistic prose to compliment what I’m learning.) Of course what
are words without pictures? So, I will try not to disappoint in this
regard.<br>
<br>
&nbsp;<strong>Lord Tennyson</strong><br>
<br>

<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/maudlge1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-30" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/maudlge1.jpg?w=497" alt="" height="145" width="450"></a>

<br>
<br>
Imagine growing up in a dysfunctional family of eleven children; I
cannot fathom this.
Madness, epilepsy, addiction and a patriarch who was a raging
alcoholic? From this world sprung a poet, Alfred Tennyson, a poet
through and through. According to <em>Norton's Anthology</em> of British Literature, Alfred was haunted by fear of the “black blood of the Tennysons.” (584)

I suppose this was his legacy, saved for the warmth of his mother.
But, it’s from this background that Tennyson read the books of poets and lived the life <em>of</em> a poet. From a literary standpoint maybe a dose of Camelot and the Arthurian Legends produced lines such as:

<em><br>
<br>
Who is this? And what is here?</em>
<em><br>
And in the lighted palace near<br>
&nbsp;Died the sound of royal cheer;
<br>
And they crossed themselves for fear,<br>
All the Knights at Camelot;<br>
But Lancelot mused a little space
<br>
He said, "She has a lovely face;
<br>
God in his mercy lend her grace,<br>
</em><em>The Lady of Shalott."</em>(592)<br>
<em>&nbsp;<br>
</em>&nbsp;<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/a_legend_of_camelot_-_george_du_maurier_-_project_gutenberg_etext_143921.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-36" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/a_legend_of_camelot_-_george_du_maurier_-_project_gutenberg_etext_143921.jpg" alt="" height="286" width="455"></a>

<br>
<br>
While some poets live a life of obscurity and only find fame after
their death. Tennyson was well regarded during his life. Yet, the
familiar quest in the balance of art and life, it seems Tennyson had a
business deal go awry. (A scheme for carving wood by machinery where he
lost all his money) I can appreciate the desperation of a poet who
takes a chance even though there is the risk of losing. I find this a
struggle for myself in my own life. The life of an artist how does one
prosper?<br>
<br>
&nbsp;I was quite taken by Ulysses. In it Tennyson imparts tender morsels of breadth and depth.
Of course Greek Mythology, always pulls me in (My name Lygeia comes from the story of the siren women—half bird)

<em><br>
<br>
“I am part of all that I have met………….
<br>
For always roaming with a hungry heart……
<br>
From that eternal silence something more..”</em>
<br>
(593)

<br>
<br>
And to know of death and the affect of one so dear, Tennyson as a poet
was influenced by his supporter and closest friend. In Memoriam A.H.H.
a tribute to a mentor and a healthier representation of “family” if not
by blood. As a writer moving from the music sphere…I hope to find the
same. One must seek it out, be willing to risk those who don’t always
“get” who you are. Or, try to stifle your passions.
<em><br>
<br>
But, for the unquiet heart and brain,<br>
A use in measured language lies;
<br>
The sad mechanic exercise
<br>
Like dull narcotics numbing pain.</em>
(601)

<br>
<br>
Hopefully Academia will not cause too much static and dissonance.
Form has its place, I know. The mechanics are part of this journey, yet
I know that which cannot be contained and measured
is not an exact science.<br>
<br>
&nbsp;<strong>Elizabeth Browning</strong><br>

<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/ophelia1.jpeg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-33" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/ophelia1.jpeg?w=497" alt="" height="290" width="497"></a>

<br>
Most intriguing is a writer who marries at 40 years of age, and names
her son “Pen” Hopefully I may one day meet someone as well...who
accepts me as I am. While I do have son with three letters (Kai) I have
yet to meet the kind of man, a kindred spirit who sought her out. Is it
not possible to meet someone with whom you can be yourself?
And of the writing, the words and the spaces between…?
<em><br>
"Will write my story for my better self,<br>
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
<br>
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it<br>
Long after he has ceased to love you,&nbsp; </em><em>just</em><br>
<em>To hold together what he was and is."</em> <br>
(Aurora Leigh, Book One)

<br>
<br>
In all my cosmological wonder Ms. Browning reflects these words back to me in a <br>
happen chance:

<br>
<br>
<em>"That murmur of the outer Infinite</em><br>
&nbsp;(Book One)<br>
&nbsp;<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/n05245_9-11.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-39" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/n05245_9-11.jpg" alt="" height="431" width="382"></a>

<strong><br>
Robert Browning</strong><br>
<br>
&nbsp;<em>“Art Remains the one way possible…of speaking truth”</em><br>
&nbsp;Browning

<strong><br>
<br>
Note to self: </strong>I have the sense that Elizabeth may never have
married if not for Robert Browning, who was 7 years her junior. Just a
hunch I guess.
<br>
<br>
What an interesting man. Peculiar that as ones life expectancy was
brief during the Victorian age, that Browning lived with his parents
till he was 34? His mother was a non- conformist I can appreciate that.
Also, his creative life was fully expressive he dabbled in many art
forms. On a side note Susan from English 206 class was reminded of me
when she read his intro. Hmmm OK..
<br>
<br>
The first poem I read of his Porphyria’s Lover? The unexpected dark
turn, when Porphyria is strangled with her golden hair? The murderous
act, a dramatic departure from Words worth and the Romantic poets that
came before. Do people have unconscious desires to be enacted in the
verses of a poem? Or is life so tenuous that one realizes that as one
holds <br>
on to a lover that he or she may die so suddenly?<br>
<br>
<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/430073672_3edc169991_m1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-34" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/430073672_3edc169991_m1.jpg" alt="" height="161" width="180"></a><a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/phppb677zpm.jpg">
</a>

<em><br>
<br>
"No pain felt she"</em>
(Porphyria’s lover, 662)

<em><br>
<br>
"And yet God has not said a word!"</em>
(663)

<br>
<br>
<strong>Matthew Arnold</strong><br>
<br>
&nbsp;Like many artists, Arnold was a bit “tortured.” The emotionality
of art, and creating art, is something I can relate to. Also, was
Matthew Arnold’s love of outdoors and away from the confines of the
classroom. I can surely relate to that!
<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/trapezematthew-22.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-38" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/trapezematthew-22.jpg" alt="" height="399" width="284"></a><br>
<br>
So, as an exercise I will allow myself to go there. Let my mind travel to a wider expanse of earth and sky.

<br>
<br>
<em>“Where the sea meets the moon blanched land, Listen!”.</em>

(Dover beach, 751)<em>
“For the world, which seems to lie before us like a land of dreams”</em>
(752)<br>
<br>
&nbsp;Arnold wasn’t all about poetry though, he also ventures into the
critical essay as a means of expression. Culture and Anarchy, is the
name of his important works. He was after all a Professor of Poetry at
Oxford, so he was a learned man, and was a believer in teaching respect
for “beauty and light.” I think I would have liked to have sat in on
one of his lectures!<br>
<br>
<em>“The disparagers of culture make its motive curiosity; <br>
sometimes, indeed,<br>
they make its motive <br>
mere exclusiveness and vanity.</em>”<br>
(Sweetness and Light, 752)&nbsp;<br>
<br>
&nbsp;<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/1matthewarnoldgravelaleham1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-32" src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/04/1matthewarnoldgravelaleham1.jpg?w=497" alt="" height="348" width="497"></a>&nbsp;]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Silent no more.....</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2008/03/31/silent-no-more.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2008-03-31:1dd36a4d-c4ac-49a0-add0-1e7687dd7a2d</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Writing process" />
		<updated>2008-03-31T09:02:08Z</updated>
		<published>2008-03-31T08:43:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[So long to have been silent, but technical snafus aside----------I am back!<br>
<br>
<img src="http://images.quickblogcast.com/54720-48033/theatreprettylady.jpg" border="0" width="170"><br>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Strange Fits Of Passion Have I known</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2008/02/23/strange-fits-of-passion-have-i-known.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2008-02-23:a08e0fec-809c-4884-a6ab-b92da23bf85c</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Writings" />
		<updated>2008-04-20T17:17:04Z</updated>
		<published>2008-02-23T20:25:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[After a long sojourn I will resume my entries. The cause of my absence?
Perhaps I was hiding, immersed in schoolwork----but I return now to
chronicle thoughts and scattered images. I was prompted to return to W
o r d S h i f t, because of an assignment for my English 206 class. I
needed a bit of a push, so here’s a shout out to my Professor, Mr.
Moore. Thanks for being the catalyst that help words flow forth again!
This entry relates to readings from Longman’s text, British Literature
Volume B. I was instructed to pull 10 quotations from my readings with
commentary. So, without further adieu here’s a taste of William Blake,
in a poem entitled, The Fly.
<p>
<b>The Fly</b>
</p><p>
<i>Little fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.</i>

<i>Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?</i>

<i>For I dance
And drink and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.</i>

<i>If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death,</i>

<i>Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.</i>

William Blake (1757-1827)</p>
<p>&nbsp;<a href="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/02/little_fly.jpg" title="little_fly.jpg"><img src="http://sirenmuse.wordpress.com/files/2008/02/little_fly.jpg" alt="little_fly.jpg" height="427" width="334"></a>

<b><br>
</b></p>
<p><b> I</b>’m reminded of my childhood when everything shifted and I
became more conscious of a world bigger than my physical sphere.
Without defining my spiritual practice, I suppose I lean towards
animism, this took a leap as a girl of 7 or 8 years old when I gave
birth to my senses. Blake’s, The Fly reminds me to that change, when a
small winged creature was no different than I. The ephemeral quality of
life, for in an instant to swat a fly whose demise is sudden and swift
has consequence. That I may become aware of how infinitesimally small I
am as I relate to the universe. Just a speck am I, when I became aware
of all living things and my connectedness. It began with catching
butterflies and setting them free in the garden, and took a more tragic
turn one hot summer day in Tehran, the day a bird I had somehow trapped
in a shed died, from lack of air and light to see.
</p>
<p align="left"><b>T</b>he next quotation is pulled from Mary
Wollstonecraft, a vindication of the Rights of Woman. (162) Mary was
drawing a comparison Between Newton being a superior being trapped in
the human body. To somehow equate this with a women who are perhaps
trapped in a designated role by virtue of their femaleness.</p>

<div align="right"></div>
<p align="left"><i>“I have been led to imagine that the few
extraordinary women who have rushed in eccentrical directions out of
the orbit prescribed to their sex, were male spirited, confined by
mistake in a female frame. But if it be not philosophical to think of
sex when the soul is mentioned, the inferiority must depend on the
organs; or the heavenly fire, which is to ferment the clay, is not
given in equal portions…”</i>
<b> Mary Wollstonecraft</b> <br>
</p>
<p align="left"><b>I</b>t’s an interesting parallel, and considering Mary wrote this
first as “Anonymous” followed by the second edition in 1791 in her name
is remarkable. Although much has changed since this time it still is
quite evident that in my own experience as a woman the body in which I
am born and the choices I have made are connected to my femaleness and
how others view me. I ‘m reminded to one day in Manhattan having just
arrived when a man with carefully measured advice told me New York was
too tough for a girl like me and I should run back to California where
I belong. I remember turning to him and exclaiming, “No, I’m fiercely
independent” My visceral response had much to do with his perception of
me as a woman. It’s interesting to note that I stayed in New York for
some time, but my choices in work had very much to do with being a
young woman, I soon became, "Maria the Go-Go girl" (Ok that’s another
story….)
<br>
</p>
<p align="left">Also from a Vindication of the rights of Woman, is the following
passage from Chapter 3 (163)<br>
</p>
<p align="left">&nbsp;<i>“The first care of those mothers or fathers who really attend to
the education of females should be, if not to strengthen the body, at
least not to destroy the constitution by mistaken notions of beauty and
female excellence; nor should girls ever be allowed to imbibe the
pernicious notion that a defect can, by any chemical process of
reasoning, become an excellence….”</i>
<br>
</p>
<p align="left">As a returning college student in the year 2008, I’m well aware of the
progress since Mary’s time. And yet there is still the pervasive view
of a sensible path, and the proper course one must take in life.
Fortunately I don’t prescribe to this view, nor do I feel that should
impede on my progress. On a side note, while I’m thrilled that a woman
is running for President I have the right to chose as a constituent,
and my voice counts in determining those bigger choices.</p>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Acqua cheta rovina i ponti.</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/11/08/acqua-cheta-rovina-i-ponti.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-11-08:33e6e775-dab1-4053-bdae-d339fadbb2e2</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Lost in Translation" />
		<updated>2008-07-29T14:51:59Z</updated>
		<published>2007-11-08T12:34:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<i>Chi troppo vuole nulla stringe</i><br>
<b>One who wants too much holds on to nothing<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
</b>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>102 degrees in the shade</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/08/31/102-degrees-in-the-shade.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-09-01:8445487f-1930-4699-90ef-5c427ada9344</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Outer Space" />
		<updated>2007-09-17T13:14:45Z</updated>
		<published>2007-09-01T02:28:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<DIV></DIV>The heat... if it were not for the smog it would be OK. I find myself longing for a vista, a patch of green, the sound of trickling water, friendlier neighbors. Instead, I get&nbsp; buzz gossip, drunken chica’s, and an attention whore, who the kids call, “ice cream lady”. I try and avoid the slightly crazed round-in-the-face-frothing-at-the-mouth loon who has already spewed her venom at me, but she&nbsp;creeps around like a rat&nbsp;ready to claw. &nbsp;In my Apartment complex with it’s Melrose place pool, the ripped actor who sometimes to forget to wear his clothes with the blinds half open, plays the bongos at 2:00 A.M. our resident male hottie.&nbsp; There's more of course.. <BR><BR>I have been silent for too long, but this will change! School starts soon: Italian, Algebra, English, and Astronomy. So, expect a few numbers, cosmological talk, mentioning of literary works, and Italian woven in passages.<BR><BR>Please come back. Tell me your out there... (It makes me feel less alone) and stay cool in the shade. Tonight I will dream about something lush, someplace warm, and a purple orange sky that turns into Indigo with the brightest of stars.<BR><IMG src="http://wordshift.com/images/54720-48033/8501_3.jpg" width=600 border=0>&nbsp;<BR>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Top 10 list of banned books</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/02/01/top-10-list-of-banned-books.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-08-31:5703770f-730f-4e63-be9b-a5a5ceb8c916</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Top 10 list" />
		<updated>2007-09-01T03:25:17Z</updated>
		<published>2007-08-31T15:43:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<font size="2"><font face="Times New Roman"><i>Peoples fear of the
written word has resulted in the banning of books, being kept from
library shelves, or burned and scorched till turned to dust. The truth
will always reveal itself though. The hypocrisy that may exist from
those most fearful of words and the spaces between them should know the
truth always reveals itself in time.&nbsp; The following list is a mere
sample of books that have been banned over time. Sad but true.</i><br>
<br>
<b>“[I]t's not just the books under fire now that worry me. It is the
books that will never be written. The books that will never be read.
And all due to the fear of censorship. As always, young readers will be
the real losers.”<br>
---- Judy Blume</b><br>
<br>
1. <i>Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</i> by Lewis Carroll.&nbsp;
Banned in China (1931) for portraying animals and humans on the same
level, "Animals should not use human language."<br>
<br>
2. <i>The Call of the Wild</i> by Jack London. Banned in Italy (1929), Yugoslavia (1929), and burned in Nazi bonfires (1932).<br>
<br>
3. <i>The Diary Of Anne Frank</i> by Anne Frank. Its hard to believe a
book as important as this one, that chronicles a young girls
harrowing ordeal was challenged in areas of the United States, due to
"sexually offensive" passages and dark subject matter.<br>
<br>
4.&nbsp; <i>Harry Potter </i>by J.K. Rowling. As successful as this
series has become, banning was advocated mainly in the United States by
Christian fundamentalists because of its references to witchcraft.
There have been several incidents of Harry Potter books being burned,
instigated by Christian fundamentalist groups<br>
<br>
5.. <i>The Satanic Verses </i>by Salman Rushdie. Banned in some Islamic
countries and in India for blasphemy against Islam. Mr. Rushdie also
had a death warrant for many years. And this was against speaking out
against Islam.<br>
<br>
6.. <i>The Art Of Love</i> by Ovid. This was burned in Florence in 1497. The author was also banished from Rome by Augustus.<br>
<br>
7. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Adventures Of Tom Sawyer</span> by Mark Twain.&nbsp; This classic piece
of literature was banned from the children's section of the Brooklyn,
New York public library in 1876,&nbsp; as well as the Colorado public
library that same year. Some libraries in the USA&nbsp; banned the book
over objections to the "questionable character" of the main character
and racism.<br>
<br>
8. <span style="font-style: italic;">On The Origin Of&nbsp; Species</span> by Charles B. Darwin. Harvard Univ.
Pr.; Macmillan; Modern Library; NAL; Morton; Penguin; Rowman; Ungar.
Banned from Trinity College in Cambridge, UK (1859); Yugoslavia (1935);
Greece (1937). The teaching of evolution was prohibited in Tennessee
from 1925-1967. The creationists and Intelligent Design folks are
always fighting it.<br>
<i><br>
9. Twelfth Night</i> by William Shakespeare. Airmont; Cambridge Univ.
Pr.; Methuen; NAL; Penguin; Pocket Bks.; Washington Square. Removed
from a Merrimack, N.H. high school English class (1996) because of a
policy that bans instruction which has "the effect of encouraging or
supporting homosexuality as a positive lifestyle alternative."<br>
<br>
10. <i>The Bluest Eye</i> by Toni Morrison. This powerful book has been challenged numerous times despite being on Oprah’s book club in
2000.&nbsp; Apparently, the subject of racism and child molestation is
too potent a subject. To keep such a book&nbsp; from schools
and libraries across the U.S is more of a concern.<br>
<br>
<img src="http://wordshift.com/images/54720-48033/writingfairy.JPG" border="0" width="542"><br>
</font></font><span class="details"><font face="Times New Roman"></font><br>
</span><font face="Times New Roman" size="2"></font> 
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Dogma</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/07/06/dogma.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-07-06:2cdf543e-d5af-4e13-a3d2-1605b8842dcf</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Writing process" />
		<updated>2007-07-06T23:03:43Z</updated>
		<published>2007-07-06T22:34:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[I wrote a passage that accidentally got wiped from oblivion, so...here
goes another. It's likely that the readers of this blog are close to nil and I
may have the occasional eavesdropper from a random google search? On a
side note a Webmaster friend puts "naked pictures of Brittney Spears"
in the Meta tags to increase his own readership, but I would never stoop so low (heheheh) Ok...I'm a writer who
needs to feel the spaces between words in order to feel the flow, so when it comes to
academic writing It feels more like I
have to force words to paper like Velcro. The rigid dogma of correct
syntax makes me feel like E.E Cummings. Shit, sometimes I become
weary from too much structure and red markings to correct my misuse of
"style” GRRRR.......<br>
<br>
Cross my T's and dot my I's please let me banish the grammar police. My
summer class is no walk in the park, recently I've had to explore the
semiotic analysis of SUV’s, and support my position of why Will &amp;
Grace was pivotal for gays. I also began to rethink an English degree.<br>
<br>
Please talk back to me. It’s lonely in my blogosphere.....<br>
<br>
<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/a5_3.JPG"><br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Adam and Eve</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/05/30/there-is-no-such-thing-asrace.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-05-30:61e0bc47-46c5-47d5-9ce5-207736473a2f</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Random Thought Process" />
		<updated>2007-05-31T22:35:35Z</updated>
		<published>2007-05-30T15:59:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[I am immersed in my Anthropology class, and I have to say it is
fascinating stuff. The most interesting of which is Darwin's,
Evolutionary Psychology. If 99% of the human race has been spent as
foraging peoples, gathering, hunting, and finding mates, what a strange
world our ancestors would find themselves in today!&nbsp; In the blink of
an eye---we’ve had the Industrial age, the invention of the plow, and
especially our recent Technological age that has morphed us into
another realm. Our Stone Age brains circuitry is suddenly thrust in a
science fiction time. And what about Aliens from outer space?&nbsp;
Perhaps we are the Aliens, and "Danger Will Robinson" is among us.<br>
<br>
Recent news of, "Human remains found in a 1,400-year-old Chinese tomb
belonged to a man of European origin, <a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2007/05/070524-china-dna.html">DNA evidence shows</a>."
will likely prompt speculation, from whence did we come? The ozone
layer with its big gaping hole in the sky will surely melt more than a
few solar ice caps. Will we find something buried beneath the ice
frozen in time? <br>
<br>
National Geographic is one of the sponsers of the <a target="" class="" href="http://https://www3.nationalgeographic.com/genographic/"><u>Genographic Study</u>&nbsp;</a> which will surely be the great link-
up. For a mere $100
anyone can be apart of it. I will definitely participate and will be
sure to post my findings! The intensive 5-year plan to map our
migratory patterns will be the human race’s ancestral tree. The
creationists will be all in a tizzy to know that Adam and Eve were not
lily white, but were black and originate from Africa.<br>
<br>
<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/ac_12_sb.JPG"><br>
<br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Naked logic</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/04/23/naked-logic.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-04-23:af62c617-e3b4-49d9-aeef-75392b11e550</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Random Thought Process" />
		<updated>2007-04-24T10:04:47Z</updated>
		<published>2007-04-23T20:29:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<font size="2">If the heading gets attention....so be it. It has been
quite a spell that I have been hiding. Somewhere between midterms, a
peculiar virus (physical not computer), spring break, and a trip to the
mountains...(where I got naked) I have been far removed from
blogland.&nbsp; Do I dare reveal more? Is anyone even reading these
passages?<br>
<br>
I ponder about isolation, how a mentally ill man of 23, was so lost
that no one knew him, not even his family.&nbsp; My condolence to
friends and families of the victims at Virginia Tech. Life is fragile,
tenuous and ever so fleeting. I ponder my own time to live and create.
In a small window of time, a speck a thrust of light, energy and
kinetic spark, life is transitory.<br>
<br>
This weekend I met the woman with the saintly name, my ex's
girlfriend.&nbsp; She gave me flowers. An offering? It's never as you
picture it. The weird thing is she resembles me.&nbsp; Go figure.&nbsp;
Someone can rattle on about the picture they have of the ideal person,
their physical manifestation.&nbsp; She is a slightly younger version,
far more domesticated. She bakes.<br>
Heck I love to cook to.... but I am more apt to finger paint, than bake
a cake. I do have a confession to make: I used to have an easy bake
oven as a child, which I loved.<br>
<br>
I watched them from the corner of my eye, and I saw the dynamic. She is
in love with the man I wish would go away, but is now not possible. She
makes him feel every bit the man. They complete each other. I could be
wrong but overly ambitious she does not seem to be. She dotes on her
man, tends to his needs and that of her son. And what of the funny pick
up truck she drives? Well that was unexpected.<br>
<br>
Oh and Harbin, my mountain escape with a man I met from hotornot? It
began with bunny ears, and it ended with live tapes from Philo T.
Farnsworth, the inventor of television, and the cathode ray.<br>
</font><font size="2"><br>
<br>
</font><font class="text" size="2">"If it weren'<span style="color: black; background-color: rgb(160, 255, 255);">t</span> for <span style="color: black; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Philo</span> <span style="color: black; background-color: rgb(160, 255, 255);">T</span>. <span style="color: black; background-color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Farnsworth</span>, inventor of television, we'd still be eating frozen radio dinners." <br>
<br>
<a href="javascript: copy_to_clipboard('quote.text');"></a></font>
                <font class="text" size="2">-- &nbsp;<b>Johnny Carson</b></font><font size="2">
</font><br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Rate My Professor</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/03/05/rate-my-proffessor.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-03-05:bdafe9ea-ad82-45de-a574-c36ad245dcee</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Writing process" />
		<updated>2007-08-31T22:12:34Z</updated>
		<published>2007-03-05T23:36:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[As I delve into subjects like; Science, Biology and Anthropology I have
had to coax my left-brain into a kind of mental aerobics. Discussing a
Darwinian world I ponder, Lamarck's (incorrect) theory of the
inheritance of acquired characteristics. I wonder about my Simian
cousin the chimp whom I share 99% of the same DNA, and get dizzy with
microbes and Cellular life. It's an interesting fusion, trying to meld
my life outside of the classroom with the academic world. A Molotov cocktail perhaps?<br>
<br>

If knowledge is power than what can be said of the combination of
experiential living, street smarts and academics? Some of the
best teachers I’ve had can openly admit to learning from their
students. Most of my instructors are inspiring, but on occasion there
is the empty swagger, bravado, and hollowness from an Instructor who
love the sound of their own voice. Sure, I can leave a meandering
comment on <a href="http://www.ratemyprofessors.com">Ratemyprofessors.com</a>
a subtle hint to take a stab at student-centered learning. I think its
important to get out of ones comfort zone. I am speaking now of the
student who may be afraid of asking a question, and the teacher who is
afraid to listen to a response that causes them to reflect. Whether I
get around to reading Paulo Freire's, <a href="http://www.infed.org/thinkers/et-freir.htm">Pedagogy Of The Oppressed</a>—the subject is fascinating.<br>
<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/monkey_03.jpg"><br>
<br>
&nbsp;<br>
<br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Whirling Dervish</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/02/27/whirling-dervish.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-02-27:b18d12ae-17cb-4453-b0e7-514f7b2999b7</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Who said what?" />
		<updated>2007-02-27T10:59:22Z</updated>
		<published>2007-02-27T03:05:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[I have been a lover of dance since I was a child. When words were not
enough, as a young girl in Iran I remember finding rythym and
moving as if I were in a timeless spell. I found my own version of
trance as I slithered my arms, the skinny pale girl, a gypsy in a
whirling dance. Remember when as a child you were spun around as you got dizzy, asking to be spun around again?<br>
<br>
When one thinks of a Whirling Dervish, it is likely to conjure up an
image of the tall hats perched precariously, long white robes and the
spinning than in continuum. Arms outstretched head cocked to one
side, the Whirling Dervishes trace their origins to the 13th
century Ottoman Empire. Islam is imbedded in those roots, where beauty
and history merge. The dance is often practiced by the, "<i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mevlevi" title="Mevlevi">Mevlevi</a></i> Order (Sufis) in Turkey aligns the physical and religious ecstasy." <br>
<br>
<i>The dance is a poem of which each movement is a word.<br>
Mata Hari<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/2.jpg"><br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
</i><br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Alice in Wonderland</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/02/08/alice-in-wonderland.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-02-08:45257483-59ad-43d4-8880-61918c49cac0</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Random Thought Process" />
		<updated>2007-02-08T23:52:00Z</updated>
		<published>2007-02-08T23:52:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<font color="#000000" face="Times New Roman" size="2"><br>
</font><font face="Times New Roman, Times Roman, Serif" size="2"><font color="#000000">“M</font>ine is a long and a sad tale!” said the Mouse, turning to Alice and sighing.</font><br>
<font color="#000000" face="Times New Roman" size="2">“It is a <em>long</em> tail
    certainly,” said Alice, looking down with wonder at the Mouse’s tail; “but
    why do you call it <em>sad</em>?”<br>
<br>
<i>Alice In Wonderland</i></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><font face="Times New Roman"><br>
<br>
My own sad tale is actually a dance with words.&nbsp; I&nbsp; wonder
how is it possible that life can be so perplexing? And in moments
really quite simple, beautiful even.&nbsp; Is life all about the happen
chance of following the rabbit down the rabbit hole?&nbsp; In my dream
life my world is like Alice.&nbsp; On this day I rescued my car that is
no more,&nbsp; heard about Anna Nicoles passing, watched a movie about
dance, picked up cat fur, and ate Chinese. <br>
<br>
Forgive my disjointed entry today, but it fits the day. A bit odd, but still hopeful.<br>
<img src="http://wordshift.com/images/54720-48033/aiw_11.jpg"><br>
</font></font></font>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>American Idol has literary aspirations</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/02/04/american-idol-meets-literary-aspirations.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-02-04:c1e73185-f883-4872-80ec-5ff48b661289</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Writing process" />
		<updated>2007-02-04T18:02:06Z</updated>
		<published>2007-02-04T17:08:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<br>
<br>
I admit openly I watch American Idol. In fact if I were still 28 the
age cutoff, I would try out. I probably should mention, as it seems
apropos my musical connection, <a href="www.lygiaferra.com">Strange Peculiar </a>my
first CD. I have done a bit of singing in my day ranging from; red
spandex in Saudi Arabia with 6 Italian guys from Long Island, to
singing in bars in the deep south where most of the women were missing
their front teeth. I would like to announce my own contest of sorts, i<span style="font-style: italic;">f you leave a comment anywhere on my blog, something eye-catching or sweet and simple, and/or subscribe to my blog;</span> you just may be a recipient of my indie release. I am giving away up to 10 CD's... anyone reading?<br>
<br>
For anyone who may have a desire to be discovered in the literary world, <a href="www.gather.com">gather.com</a>
is having a contest. The hope is to find a literary masterpiece by
popular vote, or simply a book that may find its way to the silver
screen. Living in Los Angeles I am struck by how many are carrying a
screenplay with them from all walks of life. Case in point, I met a man
on a bus, who carried his Screenplay about Eartha Kitt in a plastic bag.<br>
<br>
In this case it is, Touchstone, an imprint of the publishers Simon
&amp; Schuster which just launched First Chapters, a contest to
discover literary talent. There is a $5,000 purse, and a chance to be
discovered. If you have a few chapters gathering dust...this is your
chance. I may give it a whirl....<br>
<br>
<img src="http://wordshift.com/images/54720-48033/lygiaferra_1.jpg"><br>
Yes its me in a purple flower........<br>
<a href="www.lygiaferra.com"></a>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Side by side......</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/02/03/juxtaposition.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-02-03:10305573-1a1a-4a6a-a454-5b9037bc9a6c</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Word Sleuth" />
		<updated>2007-02-03T23:33:02Z</updated>
		<published>2007-02-03T22:44:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<br>
<br>
Dear Blogosphere,<br>
<br>
So many blogs to dance with words and moving pictures 
to juxtapose. About ones day or life or whim, shall reveal between spaces, in backwards places, a life by chance to glimpse. <br>
<br>
<a target="" class="" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juxtaposition"><b>Juxtaposition</b> </a>is an act or instance of placing two things close
together or side by side. This is often done in order to
compare/contrast the two, to show similarities or differences, etc.<br>
<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/maninspiderweb.jpg"><br>
<br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Words as they are written, as they appear...</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/02/02/words-as-they-are-written-as-they-appear.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-02-02:4bfa14fc-a10d-42c5-a2ad-0db8e1e4c6b9</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Random Thought Process" />
		<updated>2007-02-02T22:39:18Z</updated>
		<published>2007-02-02T22:32:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/image_00000712.jpg"><br>
writteninthecity.com<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Plagiarism 101</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/01/30/plagiarism-101.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-01-30:47f80156-c52f-4514-a885-480dd118b14e</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Writing process" />
		<updated>2007-02-04T00:53:49Z</updated>
		<published>2007-01-30T17:46:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<font face="Arial" size="2">I have been quietly submerged between
semesters, post birthday and the Holiday ruckus. Whilst nursing wounds
and very little ceremony, I scribed a New Years resolution or two that
made my financial woes seem a thing of the past and my aloneness more
than a party of one.<br>
<br>
Ok so I realize I cannot wipe the slate clean when the big clock chimes
on New Years eve. The past creeps in with a hidden agenda, amidst a few
<span style="font-style: italic;">aha</span> moments was a rude
awakening. Though I had been introduced to the term in my Journalism
classes, plagiarism announced itself and hit me between my eye sockets,
<span style="font-weight: bold;">BAM!</span><br>
<br>
You know those moments; when your intuition tells you to run, vacate
the premises, scurry away from a place or person or thing? But as
surely as one stays it becomes a life lesson, so maybe it was meant for
this fate. A certain professor derailed my academic world, a learned
man if you want to judge by credentials alone (Ph.D.,) a man whose
penchant for converse sneaks, abhorrence for the institution of
marriage and commitment. A teacher whose idea of, "class participation"
is being a warm body and to listen to his 4-hour lecture without
enough time for reflection or a students involvement. A strict mans
adherence to rules became a decree, a warning.<br>
<br>
Dare I say the criteria would normally be aspired to, or if I felt I
was learning something. In one of the few classes that became drudgery
to me, in a subject (Sociology) that was itself interesting enough.
This older white male, with a proclivity towards rigid doctrine and a
small dog who wore his rhinestone collar with a modest decree, waved
his words like swords.<br>
</font><p align="left"><font face="Arial" size="2"><a target="" class="" href="http://www.msad21.org/dhs/library/Plagiasm.htm">Plagiarism</a>
is,
"Taking someone else's ideas, words, pictures or writing, and
attempting to pass them off as your own. This may be done through
purchasing a paper, or copying from the Internet, a book, or another
student's paper. Plagiarism is illegal and unethical. It is invasion
and theft."<br>
</font></p>
<p align="left"><font face="Arial" size="2">So how is it that anyone either does this intentionally or by accident? <a href="http://www.lewrockwell.com/orig/epstein9.html">Martin Luther King</a>,
whose image is sustained in all our minds as a courageous man forever
linked to civil rights and "I have a dream," was linked to plagiarism
in his educational life. </font><font face="Arial" size="2">
Though I have not yet read it, </font><font face="Arial" size="2"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0873190459/lewrockwell/">Plagiarism 
              and the Culture War</a><i> </i>highlights some of this, and may reveal some of the myths and reasons why it can happen to even well known figures such as King.</font><font face="Arial" size="2"><br>
</font></p>I will continue on with this tale of woe in two parts as my
tale unfolds. Its conclusion will hopefully be a reversal of the
charge. Mr. V, whose degree of pleasure was palpable over the phone,
had an unexpected response when he realized there was an error.<p align="left"><font size="-1"><font face="Arial" size="2"><img src="http://wordshift.com/images/54720-48033/detective.jpg"><br>
</font></font></p>
<p align="left"><font size="-1"><font face="Arial" size="2"><br>
</font> </font></p>
<p align="left"><font face="Arial, Helvetica"><b><font size="4"><font face="Comic Sans MS"></font></font></b><font face="Comic Sans MS" size="4"></font></font></p>
<font size="-1"><br>
</font><br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Kismet</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/01/12/kismet.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-01-12:b1c82755-7b1b-4dd4-9c53-35e8777e5c35</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Word Sleuth" />
		<updated>2007-01-12T16:25:28Z</updated>
		<published>2007-01-12T15:46:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[<br>
I have always been a believer in alchemy and magic. We are made up of
stars and particles of light and dust. So yes I believe in Fairies, and
the indefinable wow that exists, and what cannot be seen with the naked
eye.&nbsp; Kismet? I rather like the spell it weaves, and the
timelessness of where it leads.....<br>
<br>
<br>
<span class="hw">kis·met</span> (<span style="color: blue;" class="pointer" onclick="pw = window.open('http://content.answers.com/main/content/pronkey-answers.html', 'PronunciationKey', 'height=585,width=520,resizable,scrollbars');if(pw){pw.focus();}" onmouseout="status='';return true;" onmouseover="status='Click for pronunciation key';return true;"><span class="pron">kĭz<b>'</b>mĕt<span style="font-weight: normal;">'</span>, -mĭt</span></span>) <span style="cursor: pointer;" onmouseover="status='Click to hear pronunciation';return true;" onmouseout="status='';return true;" onclick="playIt('http://content.answers.com/main/content/ahd4/pron/K0076900.wav')"></span><br>
 <i>n.</i>
<p> Fate; fortune. That which is inevitably destined: <a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/destiny" class="ilnk" target="_top" onclick="assignParam('navinfo','method|4'+getLinkTextForCookie(this));">destiny</a>, <a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/fate" class="ilnk" target="_top" onclick="assignParam('navinfo','method|4'+getLinkTextForCookie(this));">fate</a>, <a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/fortune" class="ilnk" target="_top" onclick="assignParam('navinfo','method|4'+getLinkTextForCookie(this));">fortune</a>, <a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/lot" class="ilnk" target="_top" onclick="assignParam('navinfo','method|4'+getLinkTextForCookie(this));">lot</a>, <a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/portion" class="ilnk" target="_top" onclick="assignParam('navinfo','method|4'+getLinkTextForCookie(this));">portion</a>, <a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/predestination" class="ilnk" target="_top" onclick="assignParam('navinfo','method|4'+getLinkTextForCookie(this));">predestination</a>.</p>
<p><img src="http://wordshift.com/images/54720-48033/ladykismet.jpg"><br>
</p>
<p><br>
</p>
<p><br>
</p>
<br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Its my birthday I can cry if I want to..cry if I want to</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2007/01/04/its-my-birthday-i-can-cry-if-i-want-tocry-if-i-want-to.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2007-01-04:760459e6-500d-477f-99da-ff17ee64d290</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="Random Thought Process" />
		<updated>2007-01-09T15:08:18Z</updated>
		<published>2007-01-04T21:25:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[A brand New Year and still what lingers is a bit of the old thought
process
continuum. I have made some resolutions and nothing so out of the
ordinary that I cannot accomplish by years end. Hopefully I will not
fully embrace any of the 7 deadly sins: sloth, envy, greed,
credit-card-debt...... It is January
4th, I share a birthday with Louis Braille, who invented a system of
writing for blind people. Had I been born one day later, I would
have shared the day with Marilyn Manson. I feel more akin to Louis, who if he were live today would be 198
years old. OK now I feel better, younger even.<br>
<br>
I cannot say I had the most glorious day, otherwise I would be lying. I
did find out I managed to squeak by with an A in my Honors Afro
Literature class, so I don't feel like a total failure. On the family front, the
estrangement with my Mother was further pronounced by an email not a
call, and here I am in this context pondering the silence, another year
to pass. My ex is with his new concubine, a woman with a saintly name,
and I managed to devour a strawberry shortcake pretending all was not
lost. There is something about an ex who finds a new love that
reminds oneself of what was, or was never meant to be. The expression,
"It be that way sometimes?" Yea, well child let me sing the blues.<br>
<br>
Lady in the fountain..........................<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/php8pRqsu_c1PM.jpg" height="243" width="226"><br>
<br>
<br>]]></content>
	</entry>
	<entry>
		<title>Second Hand Rose</title>
		<link rel="alternate" href="http://wordshift.com/2006/12/28/second-hand-rose.aspx" />
		<id>tag:wordshift.com,2006-12-28:0cbbd4de-43dc-4e8d-b829-ee5af841acd7</id>
		<author>
			<name>sirengirl</name>
		</author>
		<category term="money sense" />
		<updated>2007-01-09T15:08:55Z</updated>
		<published>2006-12-28T00:01:00Z</published>
		<content type="html"><![CDATA[I confess to be of the thrifty sort, a bona fide <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buried_treasure">treasure-hunter</a>,
bargaining diva. So where was I post Christmas when the throngs of
people were returning gifts at the mall? I was digging in bins at the
discounted goodwill. It made the cash poor side of things in my life a
more noteworthy affair; to excavate and unearth an unsoiled garment with
a longer life span than its intended demise.<br>

<br>

I should mention my last trip to the <span style="font-style: italic;">bin</span>,
followed the dreaded orange boot and my
dealings with bureaucratic nonsense. By that I mean, agencies that
don’t know
what the other is doing. One location 6309 Van Nuys Blvd was the source
of much
angst, where behind plexi-glass I was met with the stares of civil
servants. There they sat dull-eyed wearing an expression of "I don’t
give a shit," the ennui was a cloak for them.&nbsp; Not the boredom
that
can be relieved, but the kind of said, "weariness or annoyance over a
long period of time." <br>

<br>

I half-expected them to tow my car on Christmas, but there it was wearing a florescent orange clamp on its right front wheel.
When I walked back into the dreary scene cash in hand,&nbsp; I found to
my surprise a large smashed
middle window. For a half-second I thought it was not someone
else’s wrath of fury but a twisted poltergeist, a <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Carrie</span> horror flick
moment when some degree of my annoyance thrust itself upon them during
my absence.<br>

<br>There once was a time when people traded beans for flour, and rice for
straw, I wonder is money really necessary as a currency? I am a fan of
bartering methods, but alas as one dear five year old called them,
"rectangles" could also help buy a chance at freedom. 

At least for me this can also mean the calls that don’t miss a beat,
that begin at 8:00 in the morning till 9 in the evening, the occasional
odd call from a call center in India; wanting to know if I desire to
readjust my mortgage.&nbsp; <br>
<br>
Fortunately nestled in some of the more disturbing exchanges, are the
kindness of strangers, and moments of humanity that overlooked the
number crunch, or being seen as a number in a system without a
conscience. So I thank those people who I will never likely cross paths
with again.<br>

<br>
<i>
"A rich man is nothing but a poor man with money"<br>
</i><i></i><br>
WC Fields<br>
<br>
<img src="http://app.onlinequickblog.com/images/54720-48033/sillydancingirl.JPG"><br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
]]></content>
	</entry>
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