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“How’s the champagne?” Charlotte (Charlie for short) questioned weakly. “Same as always, expensive and tasteless,” I reply with a hint of anger. I don’t even see the reason as to why a cruise was necessary. They were so cliché chills went up my spine at the thought. My mother had insisted on the idea. I had shuttered in disapproval. “Bella, do you want your gift or not? You’re sweet sixteen should be memorable and spectacular. Just like you,” she had said. I simply nodded and knew there wasn’t a point in saying anything more. What mother wants, she always gets.
About fifty miles off the coast of Fiji, the mountainous island that is populated and yet serene, Charlie and I look out far into the ocean only to see a life jacket within sight. Frantic, we alarm the passengers who immediately crowd to catch a glimpse of the deserted man. The others seemed, oddly, I thought, a little more concerned about how their hair survived the running than the isolated man floating closer and closer to our cruise ship. Charlie and I just looked around, stunned to see the carelessness in the people we cared most about. Almost as if telepathic, we threw our Gucci shoes into the throng of tuxedos and ball gowns, immediately before lunging toward the orange blur in the sea of blue.
That is remembered. Nothing beyond is. I awoke trembling from what I thought was hypothermia. Realizing my safety only a few moments later, I surveyed my surroundings. Sand, water, mountains. Did we arrive? Was this Fiji? For a moment I sat in confusion. My head, in pain from some type of cut. Had I bumped my head? My ball gown, still united with my body, but barely. Stitches were undone, glitter replaced with seaweed. What happened to me? Suddenly, my memory became more transparent. The man out at sea, apparently in need of help, the all but helpful friends, the cries of shock as Charlie and I hit the water violently, and darkness. Charlie wasn’t here! I felt annoyed and provocative. Why hadn’t I noticed her absence sooner? Guilt filled my lungs and made it hard to breathe. “Charlie! Charlie!” A voice cried “Bella! Come, help!” that sounded nearby and yet so out of reach. I began to sprint, hoping to get to her sooner with no luck. I yelled numerous times without succeeding. Her shrieks became out of earshot, and until then, I hadn’t realized how weary I had become.
I was running now, into a vast forest that stretched as far as I could see. Finding Charlie, I was blissful. I was trembling to where she had lie only to turn her lifeless body over. Her pulse was nonexistent, and I took in the sight of Charlie, my Charlie, my sister. I cried until the sun went down. There was an unexpected wave of water on my feet. I turned, where I felt wet, but no water was found. I quickly found myself fearful, that is, before I woke up.
My nightmare had only sped up my thoughts of her being dead. But a few short moments later, I found myself being pulled, feet dragging, by a strange, but adorable, boy. His words were, “Charlie? You know Charlie? Come.” His English was broken, but at that point, my cares were only imaginary.
Of course, I hadn’t said anything back to the boy. My thoughts were in a haze, and my mouth couldn’t seem to remember how to form the word “hi”. He took me to a secluded area with a tiki hut, a bed, and what seemed to be a working shower. I could finally remember how to form words, so I questioned, “What is this?” “Oh, just my home,” he responded ever so casually. My next question, “Where’s Charlie?” “Just follow me.”
As his steps quickened, I seemed to fall more and more behind. I finally ran to catch up with him, when my speech was interrupted. It was Charlie, on what looked like a throne from one of those Egyptian movies. More confused than ever, I made actions with no thought. We hugged for what seemed like eternity, when what’s-his-name disconnected our arms. He said swiftly, “I never got your name. I’m Jack.” I could only say, “Bella,” while shaking his hand. “You know, your eyes are as blue as the ocean,” he said. I blushed, and went about with greeting Charlie. We chatted for the longest time, and Jack set us up some beds a little too close to his. Dismissing this fact, I brought up an even stranger subject. “Jack, how is it that with no one else on this island, you have food, a bed, and even a shower?” Almost as if not expecting the question, his response startled me. “I work here part-time for research.” Satisfied with his answer, I drifted into a never ending river of relief.
Awake and filled with pancakes, Charlie and I talked about what we both remembered. Turns out she knew a little bit more of the story than I did. “The man in the life jacket, remember, Bell? I swam to help him, but his only words to me were ‘who are you?’ and he revealed a knife the size of my hand. I was terrified not only for my life, but also because I could see your body floa
After numerous foreign trips, filled with apologies for past American Imperialism, oppression, and arrogance,(throw in an unearned nobel Prize too), his special offer to talk with foreign Dictators is being slapped down with disdain and hatred for America.
El Presidente for life Hugo Chavez still distrusts America and is cozying up to the RUSSIANS!
Iran;'s mouthy leader A bad diner jacket is now building bigger launch pads and more centrifuges.
And now No. Korean Nutjob Kim ILL "in the head" Sung is threatening to blow up America and South Korea! (with his 3 atom bombs)
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,588342,00.html?loomia_ow=t0:s0:a4:g4:r5:c0.000000:b0:z5
Result?
Obama's is looking more and more ineffective all the time. Even almost silly , mad, nutjob dictators from small, backwards little countries are now openly taunting and smearing Obama's best efforts to be so cozy, warm, and fuzzy with them (because he's a Lefty and so understanding and likeable they'll have to like US more!)
But thats my take.
WHAT SAY YOU AMERICA?
Please opine with pithy comments from anywhere, even North Korea, anytime anytime if you wish to opine, and when answering, please, no Lib offers to be friendly with the enemy allowed in the No Spin Zone!
Amd remember, the spin stops here because we are definitely looking out for you!
Today I had an interview, the lady was dressed smart but her blouse was sleeveless. She was interviewing me. When she first took her jacket off her bra strap was showing down her arm and she fixed it and a second time I noticed it after it fell of her shoulder whilst she was bending down to pick up some forms which she then also fixed it. By fixing it I mean tucking it in under her blouse again on her shoulder. The interview went on for a while and I was looking down for a few minutes filling in a form and when I looked up again I noticed she had lost the bra strap again but this time didnt fix it, I assumed she hadnt noticed and I told her that the bra strap was showing. She apologised and fixed it again however she did seem a bit off with me for the rest of the interview. In the end I was turned down and cant help thinking I should have stayed quiet but thought she would appreciate been told.
Not expecting it to be great, but please don't be too cruel to me! It was just a muck around one...
BE GONE -
The rain fell on your shoulders,
Your hair soaked and sticking to your head,
The courage in your heart smoulders,
Your legs run automatically,
Heavy as lead,
Every step that you tread,
Is a leap filled with dread,
Will tomorrow be better?
Will all be forgotten forever?
The answer is no,
The feeling is despair,
As you sink onto a stranger stairs,
Hands grasp your jacket,
And you’re lifted to your feet,
You and your capture meet,
One punch sends you sprawling,
Another leaves you crawling,
You’re bleeding on a stranger stairs,
When your mind was just making its repairs,
A boot comes smashing down spot on,
The last thing you hear is a stranger’s ‘be gone’.
I am a brick building, in a room that is built like a classroom. A chalkboard covered in maps is on one end of the room, and there is a long wall of windows. Under these windows are yellow and orange plastic chairs. Police and detectives crowd around tables filled with more maps and ringing telephones. A mother stands weeping in the corner. Someone has stolen her child and we need to find it. I walk over to the windows and look down at the parking lot below. My heart jolts when I see an overweight man wearing a leather jacket leading a small girl, with blonde hair and wearing green overalls across the cement toward a tan car parked next to a green van. It is the child we are looking for. “It’s her! She’s down there!” I yell. The police ignore me, but the mother runs over to the windows. “My baby! Save my baby! She’s down there, go save her!” she screams, pressing her face against the glass. I look around. The policemen’s backs are still turned toward us, and they are still focusing their attention on the maps and ringing telephones. They haven’t heard the commotion. I dash for the door, run down the stairs, and burst out the front doors. The man doesn’t know I’m coming. I am about to tackle him when he turns around and kicks me hard in the crotch. I stagger back, gasping. A moan escapes from my lips. He pulls out a gun, and shoves the child toward me. “Here. It’s your choice. Save the child and get shot, or let me go and you live,” he tells me. Wildly thoughts race through my head. We can get him another time. I don’t have to get shot. I step away and he picks up the little girl. She starts to cry loudly. The man then shoots at me, first clipping my ear. I start to run, and he shoots again. He got me. Blood gushes down my front. In my daze, I can’t even feel pain, just the warmth of blood on my shirt. Dreamily I think to myself, ‘Getting shot isn’t so bad.’ The gun bangs again. Blood is running down my face, coming from my eyes. I’m crying blood! I am horrified. Slowly the life drains out of me, and darkness takes me, and the last thing I hear is the wails of the child…
4. What prior knowledge can help you predict that the narrator's mother will try to save her in “The Leap”?
(1 point)
Trapeze artists are not afraid of fire.
Firefighters will not let people enter burning buildings.
Mothers will do whatever they can to save their children.
Children do not know how to escape from burning buildings.
5. Which line from Swimming to Antarctica would logically lead a reader to predict that Lynne Cox's swim would be extremely difficult?
(1 point)
I knew that the weather could suddenly change and the swim would be off.
I wondered if in thirty-two-degree water the water in my cells would freeze…
Gabriella came in to take a core temperature; it was up to 100.4 degrees.
In the protection of the Antarctic Peninsula, the wind dropped off and the sea grew calmer.
6. What does this reaction to her swim reveal about how Lynne Cox feels?
I lifted my head, took a big breath, and shouted, “Barry, I'm swimming to Antarctica!”
(1 point)
She is exhausted and wants to finish.
She is confused about what she is doing.
She is excited and determined to finish.
She knows she is in danger and is warning the others.
7. Which question would help you predict that the author of “Occupation: Conductorette” would get the job as a conductor?
(1 point)
Where would the author's streetcar go?
What other jobs are available for the author?
How much does the job pay?
How much does the author want the job?
8. What does the receptionist tell Maya Angelou when she first asks about the conductor job?
(1 point)
The job is already filled.
They don't take women.
They don't take African Americans.
They only take applicants from agencies.
9. How do Maya Angelou's feelings about the receptionist's treatment of her change over time?
(1 point)
She is angry at first, but then she begins to forgive the receptionist.
She is confused at first, but then she accepts the treatment.
She forgives the receptionist at first, but then she becomes very angry.
She tries to ignore the problem at first, but then she becomes depressed.
10. Which phrase is the best example of “ordinary folks” diction?
(1 point)
comes down in an ink of Japanese blue
born in a little red brick house
establish a trust fund
familiar whine and clang
11. What is “Contents of the Dead Man's Pocket” mostly about?
(1 point)
a man and the contents of his pockets
a man who does not think about his actions
a man and woman who go to the movies
a man whose desire for a promotion at work nearly kills him
12. Often, a seemingly minor detail mentioned early in a short story becomes very important later. Which of the following details later becomes important to Tom's efforts to get back into his apartment?
(1 point)
The window is hard to open.
It is hot in the apartment.
Clare is slender and pretty.
Tom puts on his jacket.
13. Which of the following is an example of internal conflict in “Contents of the Dead Man's Pocket”?
(1 point)
Tom's efforts to open the window
Tom's struggle to stay on the ledge
Tom's attempts to get someone's attention
Tom's struggle to overcome his fear
14. According to “Making History with Vitamin C,” why did fewer ship's officers get scurvy than regular crew members?
(1 point)
Officers would not share their medicines.
Officers were vaccinated against scurvy.
Officers ate better diets and different kinds of foods.
Officers would not serve on ships that were not clean.
15. Le Couteur and Burreson tell a story about James Cook's ship, the Endeavour, hitting a coral reef. The ship got a hole in it that the crew had to work very hard to fix. They succeeded after many hours of effort. Why do the authors tell this story?
(1 point)
to show readers how brave Cook and his crew were
to show readers that a healthy crew had a better chance of surviving
to make readers feel glad that sea travel is much less dangerous now
to help readers see that scurvy did not keep sailors from doing their duty
16. What probably would have happened to James Cook's expeditions if he had not required cleanliness and a balanced diet for his crew?
(1 point)
He probably would not have made many of the discoveries he did.
He would have discovered even more wonderful new lands and peoples.
His crew probably would have rebelled against him and taken over the ship.
His officers would have demanded that he force the crew to maintain cleanliness.
17. Which of the following best states the author's thesis in “The Marginal World”?
(1 point)
The beauty of nature makes people want to explore its mysteries.
The shore at night shows the realities of the world where land meets sea.
The mangrove islands are crowded with infinite varieties of life.
The pool in the cave is a magical and beautiful place.
18. Which of the following is an effect of night falling on a Georgia beach as described in “The Marginal World”?
(1 point)
Herons and sanderlings are shore birds.
Everyth
it was soo great omgg bill looked soo hot.!. what did you think of the performance.????? i thought it was just perfect.!
Tokio Hotel Get Epic With MTV Europe Music Awards Performance
Band pays tribute to Berlin Wall's fall during hometown performance.
Tokio Hotel's Bill and Tom Kaulitz were just 2 months old when the Berlin Wall, which for decades had separated Germany into two separate political states, came tumbling down. Twenty years later, in the same city, they decided to pay tribute to that momentous event with their performance at the 2009 MTV Europe Music Awards on Thursday (November 5).
Taking the stage silhouetted only by four spotlights, as their hometown fans screamed with delight, Tokio Hotel began the somber buildup of "World Behind My Wall," a track from their just-released Humanoid album. Backed by a video display that showed the symbolic dissolving of a brick wall, frontman Bill Kaulitz — wearing dark wraparound shades and a tight black leather jacket — sang the opening refrains, the crowd joining him on each syllable.
He then removed the sunglasses and strode across the stage, joining his TH bandmates — including bassist Georg Listing on piano — as the song began to pick up steam. Bill's brother (and Tokio Hotel guitarist) Tom worked a decidedly Edge-ian melody out of his ax, and drummer Gustav Schafer pounded hard on his kit.
"Wall" built to a fiery crescendo, with Bill screaming the chorus inches from his brother's face, as an image of the Berlin Wall itself appeared on the video screen. As the song hit its most massive section, the stage was filled with licks of pyro, streams of red lasers and massive explosions, as Bill thrust his fist skyward and sang the chorus loudly.
And just as quickly and massively as it built, the song disappeared into the night, and TH stood triumphantly in the middle of the stage, amps still smoking, Listing plinking out the song's final notes on a piano engulfed in flames.
It was a fitting tribute, indeed.
an example is yesterday i got my L's so she took me driving.
she started having a go at me when i stalled it (manual car, fisrt time im sorry) then whenever i was dtive she would shout stuff like brake brake, indicate, and just be real angro and stuff.
i got to write in my log book, and shes filled everything out, in the drivers only bit. like she has to control everything. so i was like, why did you write here. and shes like cause i wanted to. i was like well i brought it (i had a rough day, was excited and she'd been a bitch, pity me)
that turned into a fight which lead to me being slapped.
also. yesterday it was cold and i dont have a jumper, i had one but i lost it (might i add it was two sizes to big and handme down and i go to a private school and all my stuff belonged to a bigger girl, and it was itchy so i didnt wear it anyway except for on reall really cold days.) so its a really cold day but i have no jumper. so i wear my spray jacket and get in trouble. so i tell my mum could i have a jumper and she gpes ape shit. she says im a spoilt brat and i lost it on purpose. im asking for an effing jumper. far OUT!!!!!!!!! then she slaps me round the face and grabs my collar and says she'll buy me a new one. im really scared of her and its not fair. i am like anyother teenager and shes not being fair. we are middle class, so its not like we are going without bread so i can have a jumper. im not asking for to much am i? seriously.
argh i am so angry.
oh did i add that shes like, well that bigger girl jumper wont fit you now anyway, you'd bever a 16. yeah like i dont have weight issues already thanks mum. really.
Right, im 15, and i was down the park with a m8 of mine when 3 older kids come along, one of them called damian a 19 year old. Damian screams for me (Asking who we are) and i tell him im the person hes after, before i even knew hes m8 had swiped my legs and damian started hammering the shit out of my head with steel toe caped timberlands (I prressumed they where steel toe caped because they fuking hurt) after the 7th kick i think i went unconciouse (Went black and felt like a dream and felt like it was black for hours) and when i had got control back they had alredi stole my shoes and where now walking in the direction of the woods. I broke my jaw, my back teeth have at least 8 bruises on my face, blood on my jacket from where hes boot cut my temple and a bruise on my spine. as soon as i got in i called some older friends who made damian phone me up begging for his teeth. i ignored his pleas and presumed he had his head kicked in.
i got my shoes back but i fell so humiliated and i feel my ego has been totally destoryed. im filled with so much anger and i know the next time i see them im going to do something stupid. Please help i don't know what to do 
Please tell me what you think of it and if you like it... Any critisism is apprecited!!!
Here's the beginning to it:
“Rosaline.”
The sky outside the window was a murky gray. I frowned as I turned my head to look at Mrs. Clark, whose birdlike eyes were set upon me, waiting for the answer to her question. The rest of my classmates were watching me just as avidly, some of the guys’ gazes raking greedily over me.
I glanced quickly at the board, glad I wasn’t so out of it that I couldn’t remember what period this was.
“1957,” I muttered, and the teacher turned with a smile back to the board.
“Exactly. And back around the time of the Great Depression...” She continued with her tedious lecture and I resumed my blank stare out the window. In Seattle, the sun hardly ever shone. Where I’d lived before—Sydney—it was always bright. Being here made me feel like an alien.
Actually, that was an understatement. There wasn’t one place I’d ever lived where I hadn’t felt like an alien, because I’d spent most of my life traveling around the world. I’d lived in nearly thirteen countries by now, and none of them I’d spent more than a year at.
I flipped open my spiral when Mrs. Clark called my attention again and tried to focus. I could feel a brunette boy sitting beside me staring at me, and it was hard to ignore. I looked over at him.
“Take a picture,” I muttered, in a low voice the teacher couldn’t hear but I was sure he could. “It’ll last longer.”
He was fairly good-looking, like I noticed all the guys around here were. Boringly average, with light brown hair and the same color eyes. He flushed with embarrassment and looked away, flipping the pages of his book as though to distract himself.
By the time the bell rang—which signaled that classes were over—my eyelids were drooping with boredom. As I picked up my things I noticed a tall, bulky guy walking towards me. I eyed him warily as he approached. The rest of the class began to file out, but some lingered behind to see what this dude was up to.
“Hi,” he said with a white smile. He had on a jacket with the school mascot on it, which told me he was probably on some kind of sports team. He was blond and had what a normal girl would call “dreamy eyes”. To me, they were filled with arrogance and overconfidence.
I ignored him and continued packing, wishing he’d leave me alone. Couldn’t he tell I wanted to be miserable alone?
“You’re the new girl, right?” he asked as I slung the strap over my shoulder. How many times had someone told me that before? You’re the new girl, right? It was practically my name.
I didn’t respond again and stalked past him, towards the door.
Since I’d arrived at Seattle two weeks ago, this had been happening a lot. In fact, I was dead tired of it. Every guy would approach me and try to impress me, and they’d ask me out or try to get me to talk to them; the ones who were cowards would sit in class and try to steal glances. I had one solution: ignore them. I really couldn’t understand what was so compelling about me.
“Hey, wait up,” the guy called as I marched down the hall. He caught up to me quickly, but I kept my gaze straight ahead.
“Hey, your name’s Rosaline?” he questioned, his deep blue eyes interested.
I stopped at my locker and dialed the combination, but it wouldn’t open.
“Are you going to the spring dance with anyone?”
Why wouldn’t the damn thing open? I turned the dial again, wondering if I’d just gotten the combination wrong.
“Why are you ignoring me?”
I let out an irritated sigh and looked at him. He was grinning, triumphant that he’d managed to win my attention.
“What’s your name?” I asked him in a bored tone.
His smile widened. “Jake Fischer.”
“Well, Jake,” I said, “I hate to break it to you, but I’m really not in the mood.”
His eyebrows knotted together. “In the mood to what?”
“Make conversation. Or friends.”
“Why?”
I looked away and started dialing my combination again, prepared not to answer.
“Cause, you know, maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable if you had some friends.”
I finally got my locker open. I shoved my history books inside and then slammed the door shut, and began to move towards the doors at the end of the hall again. Jake followed.
“I’ll be out of here in a month or so,” I muttered just to shake him off. “Friends are the last thing on my mind. I’ll lose them before I get to even know them.”
“Well sometimes it’s worth it,” he replied sheepishly, and then turned to head the opposite way down the hall.
I stared after him, watching him disappear into the throng of teens lingering in the hall, my jaw clenched in frustration. With a disgruntled sigh I continued walking, towards the doors that led outside.
The truth was that I’d never had one solid friend I could actually count on. I could only rely on my mother. As soon as I got to know someone, they were ripped from my life. So what was the point of meeting people if you’d just have to leave them behind in a couple weeks?
Starting at age six,
Starting at age six, I’d lived in more places than I could count on two hands. My mother was the most spontaneous person I knew; she’d decide to move on a whim, when she was tired of our home. Seattle was so much worse than Australia. Back in Sydney, the sun was always out and everything was bright. Here it was always raining and the sky was always dull.
No believe me there is no resemblance whatsoever to Twilight. The plotline is completely different. Go check out the site if you don't believe me.
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