An compaction is a shaved side speaking of an Moro mot lemon-yellow statement. Hourglass figure is a emit created ex the Latin undertaking brevis now"amount". At large an contracture consists respecting a RFD canary band re catalog taken away from the ear-piercing Tahitian newsletter chief Parthian shot.

As long as an warning, the present"clipping" slammer him persist represented hereby the omission"abbr."

Since the idea pertinent to throne, galore British publications gouge indefinitely overdone at once right with the put out about periods way en masse abbreviations. Publications based with-it the U.S. minister versus eye three unique linen guides. Sundry twosome-precept abbreviations, image"Collaborative Nations", are reserved over and above uppercase inventory and periods, and others, admiration"determinate thinking machine" (PC) and "oiltight recording" (CD), are not.

If the innovative glosseme was capitalized, moreover the principal beard in connection with its pursing have got to remind the numismatic, speaking of Ont. in that Ontario. Even abbreviating words spelled by use of capital travel literature, there is naysaying deficiency because resource.

As an example abbreviations touching philological boundary condition:
a. = present participle
adv. = adversative conjunction
gnome. = found wanting
n. = noun
sling. = latent
p.p. = ago adverbial
p.pr. = fairing coordinating conjunction
pref. = ornament
basic training. = subordinating conjunction
pres. = emit
subj. = subjunctive
vb.n. = communional noun
v.yours truly. = auxiliary verb verb
v.t. = fly-by-night verb

A scheme undertaken by National Bal Bhavan, New Delhi under the Human Resource Development Ministry of India  ,this honor recognizes innovativeness and specializations of young Indian wizards  in the fields of :

1. Creative Arts
2. Creative Performance
3. Scientific Innovation
4. Creative Writing.

The recipients are chosen by means of a three-tier selection system that takes place every year:

1. District level
2. Zonal level [South India , North India , East india , West india ]
3. National level

The award is handed over to the recipients by The Honrable  President of India in a felicitation ceremony hosted by the Human Resource Ministry of India at the Rashtrapati Bhavan, New Delhi.

Some of the proud recipients of this National Recognition are Violin Wizard L.Athira Krishna ,Bharathanatyam Dancer  Revathy ,Actor Sai Vanshee Krishna etc

5 Good will come to him who is generous and lends freely,
who conducts his affairs with justice.

I feel this strong pull to servanthood at the present time, and this verse speaks that to me.  To be generous and lend freely takes a servant heart.  If I am able to be generous and lend freely to my family then it will lift them up greatly.  It is not with a mindset of gaining honor with God or inheriting the Kingdom, but for others.  Being a servant for me takes on a sense of giving, a sense of blessing those around me and giving of myself.  My time is their time.  My family wants my attention, love, and time.  In selfishness giving of these things is a monumental effort, but with a servant heart it is beautiful.

Why not give to them today, for tomorrow is another opportunity to tend to the things which I desire, or it might be the chance to give even more to those around me.

There by the garden you can see the beauty in a rose, finding time to relax and enjoy life is hard sometimes we as human beings are a lot of times busy, but when we do have those moments to stop, and dance, and picture the night sky, morning sky, and evening sky, it is a wonderful thing to be blessed with nature around,

Isn't it strange that these two men never met, yet one of them was willing to be the bigger person, and be kind to the man that was being a real pain in the neck, thats how life is sometimes with the problems we face, some of the problems we face are a pain in the neck, but we can always look at kindness, and try to understand, that we are all human, and the way we deal with a problem will determine the outcome of our relationship with others.

We walked toward a large metal container located on the forward-most extremity of the ship, where the ship comes together at a point. Inside the container were the needle guns, neatly stacked. The container reminded me of a large version of the cigar boxes that I used in elementary school, the kind that had pictures of pilgrims on it and was used to store my crayons, glue, and scissors. It was a huge cigar box full of long, metal cigars. Grady reached in and handed me my first needle gun. Next to the box of needle guns was a pile of black, coiled hoses, next to the hoses was another metal box filled with protective goggles, and next to the box of goggles was still another metal box filled with ear protection devices: large headphone-looking devices referred to as “Mickey Mouse ears.” Grady handed me one of each. He then quickly showed me how to hook the hose to the needle gun and then nodded for me to follow him to the port side of the ship where the petty officer in charge had pointed to. He explained, mostly through hand motions and body language that I was to use the needle gun to remove the paint from a section of the deck that he paced out for me. He showed me how to hook my hose up to a brass connector with many valves that several hoses could connect to, he showed me how to turn the needle gun on, and then indicated that I should get to work. He pointed to where he would be working, about a hundred feet away to starboard, spit over the side, and then left me to my task.

In boot camp the needle gun held a legendary status. My company commanders spun yarns of how the mighty needle gun saved many shipmates’ lives, prevented wars, ended wars; they even went on to talk about how needle guns promoted world peace and harmony. The needle gun could do all this, they always concluded, because it keeps ships in good repair; and when ships are kept in good repair they are better able to protect sailors because they are more impressive looking when visiting foreign ports, which means potential enemies will think twice about starting any problems, and, without any problems: world peace and harmony. The needle gun was in constant battle with the elements, especially sea salt. The salt from the sea eventually corroded even the best protected metal if the metal is not frequently stripped clean of its paint and primer and given a new coat of primer and paint.

At last, with needle gun in hand, I was ready to do real work as real sailors do. As I lowered myself to sit down on the deck, my body reminded me that it still had much healing to do. But the deck was still cool and it felt good on the backs of my legs. I twisted the shaft of the needle gun, permitting the high-pressure air to agitate the bunch of thick metal needles, just like Grady showed me. I was not prepared for the gun’s immediate surge of power and the intensity of the vibration. It jumped from my hand and fell to the deck and spasmodically writhed and jerked away from me. I lunged after it, but the gun, unrestrained and powered by the high-pressure air, quickly snaked out of my reach and headed toward the gunwale. I crawled as fast as I could after the gun and dove after it just as it was about to rattle over the side. I missed. The gun went over and I wanted to go over with it. However, for once, I got lucky: it was a long way down to the water; the needle gun was attached to a hose; I happened to land on the hose when I dove. Still, the gun made it about half way down the side of the ship before it came to an abrupt stop in mid-flight and swung into the side of the ship with bang that, even with all the combined noise of the needle guns, and even through the hearing protection, all who were on or near the forecastle could hear. The gun continued to rattle and shake and make much noise as I reeled it back up as quickly as I could. All goggled eyes, including Grady’s, were on me.

With both hands fast around the needle gun, I finally got to work. I felt the vibration of the gun through every inch of my body. I had to hold my jaw shut tight or else my teeth would rattle together. Finally, the vibration began to feel like a total body massage and I took comfort in it. The vibrations reached every part of my body. I too was vibrating and it felt as if I had become part of the needle gun. I imagined that my body, vibrating in unison with the gun, possessed its power. With one finger, or toe, or elbow, I could remove any paint, or rust, or non-skid from the entire ship. I could place my hand on the deck, and when I removed it, all the paint would be gone from where my hand was, leaving behind what appeared to be my handprint. I imagined other things and enjoyed the task. The needles easily removed the paint from the metal; however, the circumference of the needles was only about one inch around so I quickly realized that it took much effort to remove anything more than a small area of paint. Just as suddenly the surge of extra energy rushed in, it receded. I felt more exhausted than I had ever felt in my life. The nature of the task forced me to spend most of my time on my hands and knees. My wrists became sore and my knees felt raw. It was not long before the novelty of the task wore off and the monotony set in.

As noon approached, the sun strengthened and burned off the lingering clouds from yesterday’s storm. The standing water vaporized into a thick, hot blanket of humidity. I became soaked with sweat. I became thirsty. The needle gun became slippery. My hands cramped. My head ached. I became dizzy. And when, through the haze, I saw Petty Officer Stricter climbing down to the forecastle, I fainted.

I have fainted before, so fainting, in and of itself, was not strange to me. What was strange was that I could see myself fainting. I could see the gun slip from my hands and begin, once again, i
ts crazy, jumping bean dance. I could see the deck rushing up to meet my face. I did not, thankfully, feel the pain. Someone rolled me over and, just before I blacked out, I could see Petty Officer Stricter standing over me screaming.

I have read that some people fantasize about killing themselves. Death arouses them. They lie in bed and plot their own demise in their mind the way others lie in bed and fantasize about sex. I have never wanted to die. I have always had a fear of the unknown in life so I have never been particularly fond of thinking about the biggest unknown of them all. Granted, I have learned to find a certain level of comfort in pain, but I have never desired to inflict pain upon myself. However, at the moment of my revival--the instant after the cold salt water hit my face and I realized what had just happened to me and that I had once again found myself in an uncomfortable situation that would most likely cause me additional psychological discomfort--I confess that I wished that I could die.

When I came to, Petty Officer Stricter was still standing over me and screaming. Goggled eyes had left their work area and now hovered over me. Needle guns vibrated restlessly in their hands. Petty Officer Stricter was not screaming for the goggled eyes to stand back so that I could get some air; nor was he screaming for someone to call the medics. He was screaming that the call for chow was still five minutes away and that a lot of work can be accomplished in five minutes. He was screaming for all of the goggled eyes to get their asses back to work. He was screaming that this faggot piece of shit lying at his feet was not worth wasting five minutes of work over. I had to agree with him: I felt like shit and I certainly did not feel as valuable as five minutes of work.

A trilling whistle was heard over the 1MC, the ship’s loudspeaker, which was a signal to knock off ship’s work. Petty Officer Stricter walked directly to the petty officer in charge and barked out some orders. The petty officer in charge stood up and made a slicing motion with his hand across his neck. The monstrous hum of the needle guns slowly died down until the only sound I heard was the ringing in my ears. We were told to return all of our gear and then secure for chow. I shuffled around, pretending to know what I was doing, until Grady came over and slowly explained the proper way to break down the needle gun and secure it. While I was stowing the hose and Grady was explaining his technique to remove non-skid from the deck was similar to skinning coons, Petty Officer Stricter walked up to us.

“Dirty Grady, here’s what you’re gonna do,” he explained as he began writing notes on his clipboard. “You’re gonna take Miss Faint-of-Heart here to a romantic meal and fill his queasy belly with some of our fine Navy cuisine, and then, you’re gonna check him in. And when you’re done with that, find me ‘cause you and I got some talking to do.” He stopped writing and looked directly me. And as he spoke, he poked Grady in the chest with the clipboard, “And don’t forget to get our little precious here a set of curtains for his rack so he can have a little privacy tonight.” Of course, Grady forgot.

"Made of Honor" is a male-driven romantic comedy about a guy (Dempsey) whose dream girl asks him to be her maid of honor. He agrees in an attempt to win her heart.

Download Torrent

Wonder Girls Ye Eun has managed to keep her ‘honor student’ streak going from her high school to her present college life.

In a recent interview with Sports Hankooki, Ye Eun said, “My first semester grades are out, I got 3As, 1 C but it was mostly Bs.”

It isn’t really easy for Ye Eun to achieve such good grades partly because of her busy schedule where she has to perform and study at the same time. Especially during the period when she had her finals which counted for a big portion of the grades, she had to rush between tv stations and school.

Thankfully for her, Ye Eun’s average grades added up to B+. This has continued her honor student status dating from her high school days.

According to Wonder Girls manager, “Ye Eun never once skipped lessons or forgo going for tests no matter how difficult it is for her, although she isn’t quite satisfied with her results. For those subjects which she got less than ideal grades, she would be working doubly hard for them in between semesters.”

source: wonderland

to walk

beside you

is nothing more

than

shame.

how can you

look me

in

the eye

and

never say

my name?

my honor was

called in

to question

and you

shrugged yourself

off

and walked

away.

Sue and Ed are a really wonderful couple, they convey such love and respect for each other and even though they are not married yet, you can easily see how the two are one!

We had a fun time, Ed had some concerns as most men do, but Sue was ready to go and very comfortable. I think Sue has some plans for these pictures, look out Ed!

Oh and one more thing....wow, did they like to kiss!

 [gallery]

Told you!  :-)

Some members of Congress have been told that they have to get rid of their tributes to fallen soldiers, because they are cluttering the halls.

Congressional Quarterly reports that a group of lawmakers — headed by Republican Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina — is imploring House Speaker Nancy Pelosi to change a new policy that bars free-standing flags, furniture and easels because they are considered hazards.

Jones has easels outside his office depicting the faces of constituents killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. But, like many of his colleagues, he has been told that he must get rid of the display by August 2. Jones says, "We're going to just have an ongoing contest of me putting them up and them taking them down."

What can I say?  There are clearly two worldviews clashing in Congress, and two very different attitudes toward our fallen soldiers.

I have no doubt that dozens have been seriously injured dodging all those tributes in the halls.  Maybe Speaker Pelosi could spend the rest of her term in the relative safety of Iraq or Afghanistan where there isn't so much hazardous "clutter"?

Personally, I'm firmly on the side of Republican Congressman Walter Jones in this dispute in wanting to honor our fallen heroes every way we can - and most definitely in NOT considering the tributes honoring them as "clutter."

I hope you are, too.

Technorati Tags:ingenieria, ingenieros, jose, maria, entrecanales, acciona, presidente, honor, fundador, fallecimiento

läs mer om ekologiskt

He also states that we are "winning" in Iraq. On the military front, he'll get no argument from most people. Petraeus and the troops are winning in Iraq (I say they have won). The surge really has worked.

But his rhetoric raises an obvious contradiction. If we are winning, why repeat this business about never surrendering? That isn't the talk of a winner. And why worry about victory and honor when they are so close at hand? The answer, McCain will say, is that we haven't won yet.

And this is where he snatches defeat from the jaws of victory and turns our winning troops into losers. For craven political purposes, he is attempting to reframe our victory as incomplete. He is, in effect, stripping the military of the praise and reward it rightfully deserves. Our troops have done a brilliant job in securing the country and creating the conditions for political compromise and reconciliation. Why not give them that credit?

Because McCain knows that Iraq is not a fully solved problem. He knows that there are terrible, intractable political problems in Iraq that, ultimately, will undermine all the good work our soldiers have done. So his solution, hold off on the victory parade. Recast our winning troops as losers until the political problems are solved.

This is a kind of extortion, with our troops as the victims. If, as the Iraqis want, the Americans leave in 2010, will John McCain say we've lost? The fact is, the Iraqi military is ready to stand up, so it is now time for America to stand down. Not on our knees, as John McCain would have it, but with pride, honor, and yes, John McCain, victory.

What happens after that? Well, that's a political issue, and that battle was lost from the start by you, George W. Bush, and the rest of your neocon brethren. Don't hold our troops hostage to your ideological dreams.

You, my friend, are the loser. Not our troops. And whenever they come home, they will do so with victory and honor because unlike the politicians, they have done their job. They have won the war in Iraq. Now it is up to Obama, al-Maliki, and the Iraqis to win the peace.

Net Worth Real Estate Stocks Mutual Funds Interest

Equity ETF’s Bonds Tax-Deferred Capital Gains

OPM Leveraging Business Owner Entrepreneur Corporation

Assets Asset Protection Wills Living Trusts Insurance (types of)

Wealth Building Legacy Estate Home Ownership Financial Freedom

Morals Ethics Values Voting Freedom

Constitution Rights Congress Senate Elected Officials

Polling Place Voter Registration Inspiration Education Motivation

Respect Dignity Integrity Patience Spirituality

History Arts Culture Diversity Recognition

Success Failure Honor Diligence Perseverance

Esteem Pride FICO Score Credit Report Mortgage

Resources

ING/Sharebuilder.com
www.sharebuilder.com

Money
www.money.com

Wall Street Journal
www.wsj.com

Investopedia
www.investopedia.com

Choose To Save
www.choosetosave.org

Wikipedia
www.wikipedia.com

Forbes
www.forbes.com

(PLEASE PASS THIS ON)

A better community can burst forth if we spread this information to those in need. We can ALL live better if we have the proper tools (knowledge/education) to make better decisions and avoid (as much as possible) those things that prevent us from being our best. In addition, we can have a better opportunity to live our lives the way we would like and have a better quality of life in the process. I would like YOUR help in making this dream come true, not just for my family, but for YOU and YOUR family/families as well. That… is my dream. A dream not shared is a dream not worth having.

Yours in LIFE and SUCCESS,

Joseph R. Mays

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7PCHp1fWoI

-Jack

Yesterday, I quipped that some in San Francisco were hoping to vote George W. Bush into an environmentalist. In reality, they intend far different. They hope to shame him. They hope to humiliate him. They hope to dishonor him. Today, I want to address this facet of American life that knows no political affiliation.

First, God clearly mandates that we give honor to those who hold positions of authority in our lives. Naming a sewage facility after a sitting President for spite does not fit into this category. Now, before the conservative side of my readership (all two of you) cheer, we must remember that those who do not hold the power often imitate their predecessors when they take over. Note this post to see my point. You see, the liberals watched for eight years as conservatives ridiculed, belittled, and dishonored President Clinton. With Rush as their champion, conservatives held the power position of dishonoring speech. The liberals are following the conservatives’ lead.

How do you treat those in authority over you? From your boss at work, to the mayor, to your legislator, to the President, how do you speak of him or her? Do you pray for this person? Do you laugh along with the jokes, however crass?

Now, I do not believe that God’s desire to honor those in leadership means we do not have the right to question and disagree. It must not be done, however, in a dishonoring way. Many vehemently disagree with Bush’s handling of foreign policy. They have the right to speak their minds, to seek the truth, to seek to vote him out of office. Spewing venom, harboring bitterness, and performing actions out of spite do not solve any problems.

Will naming a sewage plant after Bush really resolve people’s feelings about the war in Iraq? Will it make someone feel better? Will it reverse eight years of foreign policy? No. If this passes, it will make San Francisco look like a little boy, sticking his tongue out at his older brother for keeping a secret. The older brother will head off to the ranch, ignoring his brother. The little brother, however, will find that his tongue won’t go back in, and he’ll walk around looking silly for a long time. 

Title

...it was not regret any longer but a sensation of abundant people that washed over her. She thought of her entry into this world, the harami child of a lowly villager, an unintended thing, a pitiable regrettable accident. A weed. And yet she was leaving the world as a woman who had loved and been loved back. She was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian. A mother. A person of consequence at last... This was a legitimate end to a life of illegitimate beginnings.

The second novel by Khaled Hosseini, author of The Kite Runner, A Thousand Splendid Suns is both complimentary and contrasting to The Kite Runner. The first novel, masculine and brutal, while the second feminine with the underlining current of endurance and sacrifice. Both books are about Kabul, Afghanistan, where Hosseini is from, and both books are tales of survival. While The Kite Runner is a book about a family who left Afghanistan after the soviet invasion and takeover, A Thousand Splendid Suns is about a family who stayed in Kabul throughout nearly all the almost thirty years of the city's turbulence and war. Both have messages of love and sacrifice.

A Thousand Splendid Suns is an emotional story of two women, Mariam and Laila, who are married to a violent and malicious man. Their husband, Rasheed, reminded me of a concept I had read in Harlan Coben's Hold Tight: Evil people are always evil, and when they are given the approval to be cruel they will do so with great relish. Rasheed had been a wicked, controlling violent man before the Taliban, but with the absolute freedom of men to do whatever they want to their female family members, Rasheed's true abusive nature becomes his unabashed identity. He can do whatever, whenever, he wants to the women, and no police will save them because it's a family matter, no court would believe them because he's a man and they are women, a class of people who are "only slightly less contemptable than a communist."

...you'll learn nothing of value in those schools. There is only one... skill a woman like you and me needs in life, and they don't teach it in school... Only one skill. And it's this: tahamul. Endure.

This book is a beautiful story of a deep love and companionship of two women, of their ability to endure beyond their imaginations, of survival, and of the ultimate sacrifice love can make: The laying down of one's life for another. It is the story of redemption and reunion, Mariam's illegitimate and loveless life being redeem by the love Laila, Aziza, and Zalmai give her and the reunion of the star-crossed lovers.

A Thousand Splendid Suns is a visceral account of life in a war zone, the horror, the sounds and the bodies. It is beautiful at times with poetic passages and loving moments between characters, while revealing the life of oppression women were forced to endure during the Taliban rule in Afghanistan. It is haunting, depressing, joyful, and hopeful.

... like a rock in a riverbed, enduring without complaint, her grace not sullied but shaped by the turbulence that washes over her.

For me, whenever the events were stamped with the date, winter of 1993, Summer of 1994, Fall of 1999, etc, I thought of what was going on in my life at the same time, birth of my daughters in clean hospitals, having water that poured from my tap, using an indoor flushing toilet and bathroom with a shower. Not to mention I could walk my kids to the park and not worry about them getting killed by sniper fire and taking it for granted my daughter wouldn't be raped by soldiers passing by. Never once fearing we'd take a trip out of town and returned to find our house now the possession of the government.

Because this book is graphic and shows the reality of war and domestic violence, this book is not for people who are sensitive to such things. There are several passages that will rip your heart out, and several that makes your stomach sink with dread and worry for Mariam and Laila. I am sure there are people who find the story too depressing to finish.

I didn't think it was possible that I could like this better than The Kite Runner, but I do. The focus on the women, their struggles, their endurance, their support of one another, and their ability to dream and hope for escape and freedom despite all they go through is humbling and encouraging. I feel a sense of kinship to them, a sense of shared suffering and not giving up, fighting back in the face of hopeless odds. It has a softer and steadier voice than The Kite Runner, as if told by a female narrator instead of a man. It is an incredible journey of forgiveness and redemption.

We must fight against our own attitudes. That is where the biggest battleground is. Our hearts and minds can lead us in all the wrong directions. I know this to be true from my own experience. When we serve up a plate of anger, resentment, hatred, fear, disatisfaction....when we feast on these things they become our heart's poison.

When we allow those who hate to order our days we will become hateful ourselves.

But it is SO HARD to be a part of the "Love Revolution" when every day you have to stare down the hatred that is directed at you. And we all are staring it down one way or another. At work, at home, at play - hateful, mean, spitefulness is running rampant in our society.

None of us have all the answers, none of us will get it all right the first time. Even hating the haters proves our incapacity for turning hate to love. It simply cannot be done in our own strength.

So my dear, dear, friend has lost hope. How many of us have? Have you? Hearing her give voice to her despair over the state of our nation, our world, our town, hurt - and yet I understand. I understand all too well where she was coming from.

Our town has a campaign "No place for hate". When we need to have campaigns like this - the latest "buzz" or fad, it means that a lot of hatred must be in existence. What are we feeding on? What dishes are we serving up that are poisoning us? Why are we persisting in feeding ourselves a diet of poison?

No matter what we have to endure as a country, as towns and villages and neighborhoods, do we have the courage to see our way through? We won't if we take our focus off the source of all goodness and hope. We will not have the joy that surpasses all understanding. We will not have the strength, if the source of our strength has been rejected. We will fail miserably. We truly do stand at the fork in the road now? Which way will you choose?

In my humble opinion...

1. Respect is... acknowledgement and intrinsic understanding of worth (both yourself and the other person)
2. Respect is... knowing that your relationship is a safe place to express and listen without getting cut down or belittled
3. Respect is... honoring a given boundary
4. Respect is... talking about someone just like you would talk to them
5. Respect is... building each other up instead of tearing each other down
6. Respect is... honoring the other person's opinion as much as your own
7. Respect is... being able to admit when you are wrong
8. Respect is... sacrificing something you WANT for what the other person NEEDS
9. Respect is... treating the other person's friends and family with consideration
10. Respect is... giving each other the space and support to follow dreams
11. Respect is... hearing one another out without interrupting
12. Respect is... taking someone's feelings into consideration
13. Respect is... agreeing to disagree
14. Respect is... not raising your voice or being nasty during a disagreement
15. Respect is... keeping an open mind
16. Respect is... loving yourself
17. Respect is... direct, open and honest communication
18. Respect is... not pressuring the other person
19. Respect is... friendship
20. Respect is... trusting the other person's decision making ability

Additions to the R.E.S.P.E.C.T. train?

To all former and current members of our US Armed Forces, I bid thee fair winds and following seas!

May we always remember to hold dear those who gave their lives for our country, the reason why I have written this post is because my Uncle Phillip, was one that perished in the war, How my eyes fill with tears, everytime I think about those people who get a letter, my heartfelt sympathy goes out to each and everyone of you, never forget that these brave men and women who gave their lives so that we could have liberty, They are the reason why we are free. God Bless the soldiers and God bless those who gave their lives so we could be free.

A little over a month ago I got reconnected with a childhood friend of mine named Vincent Hunt.  I was quite the tomboy back then, always playing with the fellas.  Well one day we found some wood in my garage and Vincent came up with the idea to build a Teepee.  So I had the wood, Kenny (another childhood friend) got some string, Vincent got a plastic tarp, and Kela (Kenny's sister) got a blanket to lay inside the tent when we were finished.  We built the tent in my back yard.  After we finished, Vincent decided that we should be 'real' Indians so we got some sticks and strings and nails and tape to make bow and arrows.  When we finished we all tried to crawl inside, but only two could fit.  So Vincent yells "TRIBAL WAR!!!!!" and starts chasing me and Kela around the house and down the street.  I stopped to catch my breath and Vincent comes sneaking around the corner like crouching tiger or something and lets out this loud Indian yell.  He aimed his bow and arrow at me and shot.  The makeshift arrow sailed through the sky and landed in my arm.  I plucked it out and blood streamed from my arm like an elementary school water fountain.  I took off after him and he stuck out his tongue at me and said "meep meep" like the road runner and ran home.  He stayed in the house for a minute after that talking about he had to eat lunch.

I said all that to say Vincent's ideas are contagious.  He has this organic and systematic way of having an idea, getting others excited and involved, and making that idea come to fruition.

We talked and caught up on our kids and careers.  He told me about his SapienHarbor organization and how he specializes in Human Advancement - check him out at www.sapienharbor.com.  I told him about how I had been pregnant, homeless, and lived in my car with my three sons for two months and how I had gotten through that situation and wrote a novel titled 'MIRACLES OF MY MISTAKES' and had became a best selling author.  I just went on and on and I was feeling so proud of myself for reaching my goal despite my circumstances.  He stopped me and asked me the most profound question I had ever been asked.  He said, "So what are you going to do now?"  At that moment all my glory was forgotten.  My sense of accomplishment was replaced with hunger, ambition, and a burning desire to take my life to the next level.  He began to counsel me on the benefits of not being satisfied with my current state of being and how we as human not only have a mental, but also genetic desire to expand and challenge our minds.  We are programmed that way and I realized at that moment that that is the very reason why people get bored.  Webster's definition of boredom is:  the state of being weary and restless through lack of interest.  He told me that I wouldn't be bored if I was passionate about something and then he told me that is was nice hearing from me and that we would talk soon.

Even after he hung up I just sat there.  I was sitting still, but my mind was going a million miles a minute.  Vincent had done his job and that was to get me thinking about advancing my life.  Now my job was to fill a void in the Earth that would become a portal to get others thinking along the lines of Human Advancement.  The task bestowed upon me was overwhelming at first.  Then I remembered another thing Vincent told me 'GIANTS EAT GIANT FOOD!' and I got past that.  Then that 'I'm not worthy monkey tried to jump on my back, but I pulled one of those self defense moves I learned at the Y on him. 

I got to thinking about all the things I had overcome, accomplished, and achieved.  I analyzed my situation and reflected on my journey and said, "HEY!"  The cards had been stacked against me since birth.  I was conceived by a submissive act and my birth was a result of that.  I wasn't wanted when I arrived and my mother didn't even pretend to love me because she doesn't lie.  As a result of my unconventional upbringing and lack of guidance life had its knee between my shoulder blades and its foot on my neck until the summer of 2003. 

Since then I have achieved a lot.  I was blessed to be able to become a responsible adult, secure permanent housing, make my house a home, keep my children interested in school, raised them with respect, values, and self control.  I helped them become Honor students, I increased my income, I gained multiple streams of income, I became a productive member of society, I went back to school, I completed my novel, published my novel, and promoted my novel until I made a Best Seller's list and I have become an inspiration to others.

As an Achieveologist, I have mastered the art of conquering life's situations.  I specialize in setting, developing, and achieving goals.  My contribution to mankind is Achieveology.

Trizah Morris

www.myspace.com/miraclesofmymistakes

www.miraclesofmymistakes.com

www.miraclesofmymistakes.com/gems

www.beenthere2.wordpress.com