Oh, man. The views on my blog have skyrocketed in the past day! At the moment I’ve been averaging around 30 views a day (and I consider that a lot considering I just started blogging) but before noon today I had 63 views! Plus, five comments on my last post. You guys don’t know how much that means to me… I truly do appreciate the comments, and they just put me in a good mood. I can’t help but think: “I’m loved!” Heh, views and comments really do make me happy. Keep it up, guys. ;D

Right now my feet are killing me, and it’s all thanks to these babies:

LIKE OMG CHARACTER SHOES.

I got Capezio character tap shoes… the picture itself has the shoes without the metal taps, but do you really expect me to go all the way downstairs, take the shoes out, find my camera, take a picture of the shoes, come upstairs, upload the picture, and post the picture? Naaaw, I’m much to lazy for that. ;D

Anyway, I practiced using them for tap today and because we’re supposed to be dancing sans heels, I had to be on the balls of my feet the whole time. By the time I mastered doing a simple time step, we were already doing wings and I, being notorious for my capability to do them, could not. Now my toesies hurt and I can barely walk. Owww.

Before I go, I wanted to post a video of myself! As I will mention, it’s just so you guys can hear what I sound like.

…Yeah. RANDOM, RIGHT? lulz, okay. I’ve started watching reruns of “Glee” because every-girl-and-her-brother I know is watching it, so I’m off to watch another episode online. See you guys later!

– Delilah

I HATE…

1. Trying on clothes in one size, and having them either be too farkin’ small or too farkin’ big, and when they’re small… not willing to go up a size.
2. Having a good day, and the very next, it turns into a shitty one.
3. Only thinking I look good in the morning, because I haven’t eaten anything yet to “ruin” my appearance.
4. Plotting, scheming, planning… whatever you want to call it… and randomly considering the perfect timing to fall back into my old habits.
5. That my brother has to be obvious that eating at a diner, or restaurant, or indulging in something won’t make me fat. And he’s right.
6. Feeling so unfulfilled and having no goals for the future.
7. The cold weather, for making me feel so fat with all the layers I have to wear.

BUT I LOVE…

1. Despite everything, I can still identify my good traits.
2. Having friends, my kitties, and my family support me.
3. My hair. it’sfantasticallyawesome.
4. My quirkiness. It’s wonderful to be odd.
5. My ability to help people with their problems. When you help someone, it brings you closer to them. It creates a certain bond.
6. My taste in music. Music, I believe, saved me. The Beatles, the Velvet Underground, the Who, David Bowie, Led Zeppelin, the Kinks, and because I am a “friggin’ kid, for godsakes” Lady Gaga.
7. My eyes. They’re brown, but they’re wonderful. One opens wider than the other and, heh, I used to think in a certain light my eyes looked like David Bowie’s.
8. Eating. ED can’t make me feel guilty when I eat a sweet bowl of ice cream, or a fulfilling bowl of cereal, or – God forbid! – a slice of pumpkin pie.
9. Growing up. But not having to act it.
10. Being able to accept having breasts again.
11. Dancing without having to sit out or with not as much energy.
12. Being told I am pretty, cute, beautiful, adorable… that helps me so much. Because I’ll believe it.
13. Being “smart.” Most of my grade got a C or below in physics. Guess who got an A?
14. Living, because I wouldn’t be here without it.

As you can see… the second list is twice the size as the first, and it shows despite all the negativity I still have for myself, I can produce twice the amount of positive facts. I made this list feeling bad about my body, but with the making of the second list, I feel loads better. I encourage all of you to do the same: write out what you hate about yourself, and then make a longer list of the things you love about yourself. We can’t fool ourselves into believing we can destroy the first list, but at least we can turn our focus to the things we are willing to accept. Because when you compare the lists, it’s quite obvious which one matters more and makes the most sense.

Have a lovely evening. <3

– Delilah

Samson And Delilah 2009 DVDRip XviD-aAF
http://bigteam.bestoforum.net/movies-f11/samson-and-delilah-2009-t14932.htm

As I was tending to the chickens this morning, I realized that it’s been quite a while since we’ve provided an update on recent hen happenings. So here’s what the lovely ladies have been up to.

Athena: Athena continues to be a ravenous beast when it comes to eating treats. All the ladies love their mid-day veggie snacks, let’s be real, but Athena stands out as the most enthusiastic, by far. We’re a little worried that those carbs will add up and she’ll lose her nice figure.

Athena sprinting toward me with the hope that I had some lettuce in my pocket. I didn't have any. She was quite upset.

Manola: Manola is still her timid, cautious self. While she has stopped roosting on the watering can (a big improvement),  she has a tendency to take a very long time to lay an egg. Like three hours. Sometimes we wonder if she’s in there treating herself to a spa day.

Manola taking a dust bath. Among roosting in strange places and taking forever to lay an egg, this is another one of her favorite pastimes. Dust baths help chickens keep their feathers clean. Another reason why we think Manola enjoys the spa.

Delilah: The brain of the flock, Delilah is always learning new tricks. A couple days ago I was outside picking some lettuce because Athena was harassing me (big surprise), and on the other side of the yard I heard a bunch of flapping. A little startled, I turned and saw Delilah mid-flight on her way to the top of the chicken coop. Being the protective chicken owner that I am, I sprinted to the coop and immediately started screaming obsceneties at her (actually they were more like whisper-obscenities… we are in a neighborhood, after all).

Since I still had some lettuce in my hand, I started throwing it through the air at her. I have no idea why I thought this would help. Once she safely made it to the peak of the roof, Rogue Chicken just stared at me. My eyes pled with her to come back down to Earth. You’ve got to understand that until this point, the ladies had never flown anywhere except inside the chicken coop to roost. It was really not OK that Delilah had taken the liberty to take such a monumental step without consulting the flock nor her humans. After about three minutes and 37 seconds, Rogue Chicken tiptoed down to the edge of the roof and gracefully flew back to Earth. We’re hoping this behavioral outburst isn’t a preview of what’s to come.

Delilah sneakily foraging in the garden. I bet she was loading up on carbs to prepare for her big flight. It all makes sense now.

D is for …

Delilah

”Delilah, my boyfriend just broke up with me.  Should I try to get him back?”

 “Delilah, last Christmas I was at the end of my rope, and your show is the only thing that inspired me to go back to school at age 50.”

Just a sample of the on-air confessions of the hundreds of Americans each year who call into Delilah’s Christmas radio show.  Delilah offers advice and comfort and—the thing helps the most—the perfect song dedication.  For most of my life, I thought that this was her sole purpose in life…to dedicate “All I Want for Christmas is You.”  (Apparently, she has a radio show during the rest of the year as well.)

 WRVR 104.5 FM  is the only radio station in Memphis that plays non-stop Christmas music from Thanksgiving to Christmas—with Delilah as the soothing voice behind this stroke of genius. It is comforting for me to know that before I wake up in the morning and after I go to bed at night, Delilah’s specially dedicated Christmas songs are still bouncing off a satellite somewhere, spreading Christmas cheer to falling stars and bits of floating debris.

As much as I consider her an essential part of Christmas cheer and as sure as I am that she is a very nice lady, I still find her a bit unsettling.  She just reminds me a liiitle too much of Dr. Marcia Fieldstone.  People of all ages call in for advice, and Delilah reminds the them  just how comforting a “cup of hot cocoa with a peppermint stick” can be.

Maybe this is kind of cynical of me, but sometimes, maybe when I’m listening to Delilah as I wrap presents, my mind wanders.  I imagine that she’s not such a very nice lady.  I imagine that she drinks hot cocoa with a little something more than a peppermint stick added to it while on air,

that she chain smokes behind her microphone and that she likes to play mean tricks on the callers whose stories we never hear…tricks like waiting until they get to the most tear-jerking parts of their stories and then making “bad connection” noises and hanging up the phone. Or maybe she doesn’t even like that song that the Chipmunks sing or even care that they want a hula hoop!

 But then, I come to my senses, put another peppermint stick in my hot cocoa, and go back to wrapping my presents.

D is for…

David’s Cookies

Many, many moons ago, when Goldsmith’s was the best department store in the mall, it had a David’s Cookies Kiosk.  I must have been very young at this time, because I remember my dad taking me there and having to pick me up to set me on the bar stool that towered  (at least) 15 ft. above the ground so I could enjoy my cookies.  These cookies have stuck in my memory that long. 

Lucky for us all, you can still receive David’s Cookies by mail.  The chocolate chunk cookies are better than all other cookies.  Just look at them…

   $24.95 for a 1 lb tin.  I found these online and got them for my dad a couple of Christmases ago.  He was so excited that I honestly think he finished the entire tin by the day after Christmas.  (Also, I promise that I will add some non-food gifties in the future.)

One of the tasks of having restored my weight in my recovery of ED is learning to accept my body. I’d like to think that I have done that, and that I am now comfortable within my skin. While that is not entirely true, I slowly am accepting my body and the way I look. The thing, despite that acceptance, I still consider myself “bigger” than everyone around me. Not necessarily “fat” but if I were to stand next to someone my weight and size, I’d probably say I was bigger than that person. What’s rather confusing is that I can accept that – what I’m saying is, I’m accepting false perspectives of myself and not letting it affect me.

I can look in the mirror and see how I appear, and I see I look fine. I don’t think I look bigger there. Like in dance class, in front of the huge wall-length mirrors, I can see that I am no bigger than any girl of my stature. But take away the mirrors, and place me beside her, and then I do feel bigger. What the hell?!! I really do not understand how this works; my only guess is that my body is reflecting the size it used to be before ED. I won’t go into specifics, but I was quite a bit heavier than I am now; if I had lost the weight I did at this size, I probably would have been a lot sicker pre-recovery. But going back to the way I feel, I think it’s my body remembering that weight. This is the thinnest I’ve been since sixth grade, right before I hit puberty. I don’t even remember how my body felt before then.

I don’t even know how to conquer these feelings; I’m sure there are some sort of exercises to trick the evil eating disorder perspectives, but those are mostly for the girls who do think they look fat in the mirror. Plus, I don’t even know if it can be considered a problem because whatever the way I feel, I accept it. It’s awkward. Then again, I guess this is why my doctors diagnosed me with EDNOS, not anorexia.

So how about you guys? Do any of you have weird ED-related emotions or feelings, that you just don’t quite understand?

Despite my confusion and suffering, this has no way affected the way I eat and I will continue to remain healthy; I honestly don’t think these are triggering thoughts, but I know I shouldn’t be having them either. Sigh. What can I do? Any thoughts?

Other than this, nothing’s going on. Hope you all have a good Monday; I’ll see you tomorrow!

– Delilah

Biblical, Hebrew Biblical, English: Means “delicate, weak, languishing” in Hebrew. In the Old Testament she was the lover of Samson, whom she betrayed to the Philistines by cutting his hair, which was the source of his power. Despite her character flaws, the name began to be used by the Puritans in the 17th century. It has been used occasionally in the English-speaking world since that time. (Behindthename.com)

Baby Name Wizard

The approach of December is getting me excited – in ways good and bad. The coming month signals the end of the year, and the start of a new one. 2010. So much has happened to me in the past year and I am just so eager to start fresh. Then again, with each date, 2010 will remind me of occurrences that happened on that day in the prior year. Even now, I am able to identify that around this time a year ago, I first started to develop my eating disordered thoughts. By December I was completely dissatisfied with myself, and by March, I was finally falling into the darkness of my eating disorder.

In the early stages of my recovery – the first and second month that is – I would find myself recollecting the first portion of the year that I spent in misery. I would sometimes even tear up at the very thought of the things I did to myself, and from that point on I knew that never again would I want to put myself through that. So while I am thinking a bit more about things that happened in the past, I do know the correction of those things are paving the way for my future. I’ve changed a lot this year, in more ways than one, and while most of them were bad, some of them were good. I’m hoping I will be able to maintain the progress I have made and not relapse, which at this point I doubt will happen to me. But you never know, and I’m not out of the woods yet. Yet I still hope to maintain the positive energy I have developed and use it for my benefit.

That’s enough serious, deep thinking for today. According to my tummy, it’s time for dessert, and time to wrap this post up. I’ll leave you wall with a picture of me and my kitty:

<3 <3 <3

‘Nighty-’night, everyone!

– Delilah

This past weekend was a blur. Saturday was the booksigning at Little Rock, and you can see pictures from that on my blog: Pics from the booksigning

Sunday, however, was much more interesting. My daughter and I went to visit with Bill and Lisa. They look like an average couple even if Bill looks like a cross between a Viking warrior and Charlie Manson (maybe because of the maniacal twinkle in his eye). Lisa could be any woman you meet on the street. Nothing about them sets them off as anything out of the ordinary until you walk into the house and smell the incense burning from the altar in their living room.

Bill’s an ordained minister in the Asatru religion, which is based on Norse mythology. And Lisa is an eclectic witch.

The conversation flowed from Norse creation myth with Audumbla (am I spelling that right?) licking the ice to uncover the first man to the existence of fairies. And what exactly is an eclectic witch? All those questions were answered in a very long conversation, where I sat with my notebook on my knees and listened. They likely thought I was the quietest person on the planet for other than questions I inserted for clarification, I just let them talk.

But that’s how I work. I like listening to how people talk about their interests and pick up their terms, their slang. For instance, Bill and Lisa have little patience with Wiccans whom they refer to as “white-light-fuzzy-bunny-tree-huggers” only because they feel Wiccans have gone too “good” in order to court a more PC image. Interesting.

And I doubt this will be the last time I see them. You see, in the course of the sprawling conversation, they mentioned their involvment in ghosthunting. And since they are forming a new hunter group here, I mentioned they probably needed someone to write up their findings…

I like to keep an open mind when I venture into religion or the occult. I only truly believe what I see, feel, smell, or hear for myself. I believe in ghosts because of two things I experienced directly for myself. I believe in clairvoyance, because my daughter has the uncanny gift of knowing when someone is about to die or be injured. I believe in karma because I’ve seen how it works.

The rest I respectfully study and hope ”encounters” will open up a new avenue of belief for me. I have an extensive personal library of religious and mythological books. While I read and make my little field trips to explore, I use what I learn to enrich the stories I write.

I wrote these when I was in my 20’s and I was into Springsteen. I later updated them with the “Sampson and Delilah” and the “Vampire”verse- I couldn’t resist trying to find a rhyming scheme for “Deliliah” and there are just too few uses of vampires in music lyrics. There is a piano part that goes with these. Of all the songs I’ve written this is probably my favorite.

Any buyers?

IN THIS LAND (Copyright 2004)

You know I have this crazy dream

We meet so secret and sweet

We hide in The Crowd where we can’t be found

With the Legions of Defeat

You in your napalm sweater

Me in my gasoline jeans

We’ll burn This Town to the ground tonight

And find Refuge in the Heat

In this land

Where nothing is sacred man

In this land

We can live like Bonny and Clyde

But leave our guns and our gangs behind us

We’ll park our car on Nowhere St.

No lawman will ever find us

We won’t need no telephone lines

Or contracts that may bind us

We’ll shoot Silver Bullets between our teeth

And Run naked down a back water beach

In this land

We won’t let ‘em run us down

In this land

Someday, I may, come home to be

Your Sampson, and you my Delilah

You pledge your love eternally

Then smile at me all the time while ya’

Plan to steal my secret powers from me

But all the time, I would still try ta’

Find you, my love, and take your hand

And run away with you into the Desert Sand

IN this land

Betray me not, cause I’m your man

In this land

( In This Land, Con’t)

To keep our love forever I’ll be

Your sweet and secret Vampire

I’ll marry you in a Gothic Church

Then turn you at the top of the spire

Immortally, we’d see the world at night

Free from the False Fruits of man’s fires

When the world of man was finally done

We’d walk hand-in-hand into the Morning Sun

In the land

Nothing lasts forever man

In this land

It’s cold, windy and blistery outside. I can hear the wind howl like ghost. I am afraid the November night is haunted.

…But not to fear! I HAVE A SNUGGIE.

Me, modeling the Snuggie in all its glory.

I bought this gem at the CVS near my nutritionist yesterday; Mom pointed it ought and we gawked at the shelf for about five minutes. I jokingly suggested buying it and she went, “We have too many blankets,” and I said, “Yeah, I know.” But we still stared. And stared. And stared. So I said, “…Why not?”

So my mommy bought me a snuggly Snuggie blanket. <3 It actually is quite nice! I thought I had to pull it over my head like a hoodie, but it is after all literally a blanket with sleeves. So think blanket… then two holes to stick your arms through. It’s made of fleece – the warmest material on the planet, en mi opinión – and it’s über awesome. I love it.

So besides an odd review feauturing a cult product, nothin’ else is going on. I’m gonna run off and grab dessert, check out my favorite blogs, and head off to bed. ‘Night, guys!

– Delilah

I’m not quite sure what happened this evening. I can’t decide if I’ve had a great night or simply one that will take a while to recover from. I think I’m in shock.

The last time I saw Sir Tom in the flesh, as it were, he was strutting his stuff on stage in the RDS in Ireland back in the early 1980s.  Girls my age were losing track of their grannies as the old dears rushed the stage to cast their knickers at the King. His trousers were painted on him. And when his oversized rhinestone beltbuckle caught the light, you could have seen it glitter from Mars. Women older than my mother seemed to have lost their reason. I distinctly remember a group of women from the Irish Countrywomen’s Association flinging a pair of enormous bloomers onto the stage embroidered with ‘We love you, Tom’. I was fascinated. The music was great; the entertainment value was excellent; and when I got over the bout of prudishness brought on by the gyrations, I kinda fell for him… in an I’ll-keep-my-eyes-shut-and-you-just-sing-to- me  kind of way.

De Wimmen bought me tickets for tonight’s gig in Budapest .(Yes, I know the photo says Prague but had I seen this photo before mentioning that I wanted to go, I wouldn’t have gone. The Budapest PR posters were a lot kinder. To say that he’s had a nip and a tuck here and there goes no where near the truth. It is scary. Really scary. Really, really scary to see what a 69-year-old man can look like, if he has money.) Anyway, we all headed off to Papp László (KG and her lovely new boots and me) and were in our seats just before 8pm for the warm-up act: Felicity Rawlings. Great voice. Nice girl But no Delilah. And I was there for Delilah.

Sir Tom took his own sweet time coming on stage. And I was getting a tad fed up. It was 9.10pm before the band arrived and then another five minutes of strobe lights and SFX before the man himself appeared singing Sugar Daddy, a song penned for him by Bono and The Edge. It was downhill from there. Six modern, poppy songs later (all from his new album 24 Hours) we finally get Delilah. And this is where my confusion started.

I’d been slowly seething, like an auld wan, about not getting what I’d paid for (even though technically I hadn’t paid for anything). I’d expected a trip down memory lane, to drop in and see if the old home town looked the same and to learn all about never falling in love again, maybe even see what was new with pussycat. Instead, I was watching some ould lad in leather strutting his stuff on stage as if he was 29, not 69, and Mick Jagger he ain’t.  Tom’s wiggle was a very poor imitation of a bad waggle. Don’t get me wrong.  I’m all for doing as much as you can for as long as you can but honestly… this was embarrassing. The man has a fantastic voice -  still as good as it ever was (the eyes-shut trick still works). He was certainly on form and when, an hour later, I finally got a sniff of the green, green grass of home, I started to relax a bit. It seemed as if the modern stuff was over and he was back to the fellah I met all those years ago.

But as we flipped back and forth between old and new and detoured through the southern United States (I had to open my eyes at this stage to make sure it was still him on stage), I lost myself in an internal debate about concerts. Ticketgoers pay to see a performance and have expectations. Performers are in it for the money and to promote their new stuff. You’d imagine that it was all about satisfying the punters’ needs. So why then, when the crowd was on its feet, in rapturous applause for an oldie, why didn’t he stick with the tried and true instead of all this flash?

I’ve been to four really great concerts in my time: BB King many many years ago in Dublin; Kris Kristoffersen in Dublin a few years back; and both Leonard Concerts, this year (Budapest) and last (Amsterdam). All were low-key with minimal, if any, SFX or lighting effects. Tonight was electric…literally. Louder than loud.  Why? Why? Why? …. Delilah. 

The Knighthood didn’t make the crassness disappear and the women love him all the more. The crowd was on fire. They wanted more and more and more (oops, that’s Joe Dolan, isn’t it? I’m getting my shapers mixed up!) But I really didn’t know what to make of it all. Yes, of course, plug the new album (and respect to the man for still putting it out there), but a little more of the good stuff would have been nice. Actually, in fairness, the title track 24 Hours has a hint of Johnny Cash about it… and had I heard it at home, I might have been rightly impressed. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just too old for anything but the unplugged version. Bitching aside though, he did actually play all his big hits… it’s just that he didn’t have that many!

I’ve preached two series on Samson in the last 12 months, at two different churches. It has occurred to me this week that Samson’s life is a good model for paedobaptism:

• God made a Nazirite vow (see Numbers ch6) with Samson before he was born and God would prove to be faithful to Samson as long as Samson kept his vows.
• Samson broke the first vow, not to touch a dead body, when he scraped honey from the guts of a rotting lion. But God remained with Samson and faithful to him.
• Samson broke the second vow, not to drink wine, at his wedding feast.  But God was still with him, as Samson killed 30 men with his bare hands.
• Samson was hanging by a thread, two vows down, one to go.
• Samson slept with a prostitute and God was still with him as he used the strength God gave him to rip up 3 or 4 tonne city gates and heaved them up a hill.
• God only left Samson when the last of his three vows was broken. Samson’s hair was cut.
• God walked away from Samson, but that is not the end of the story. The suffering which Samson then endured led him to repentance.

How does this support paedobaptism?

• God makes vows with children shortly after their birth.  And God will remain faithful to these children as long as they keep their vows.
• The vow of baptism is to repent of sin and believe in Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord.
• The vow is not a vow never to sin, only to repent of it, as Samson eventually did.  Children should be encouraged to repentance as they grow.
• More importantly, the vow is never to deny Christ.  Children should be taught what it means to be in covenant relationship with Christ and never to renounce him.

He who is not with me is against me,
and he who does not gather with me scatters.
And so I tell you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven men,
but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven.
(The words of Jesus in Matthew 12:30-31)

What is blasphemy against the Spirit? Living as if Jesus never lived.
Living as if Jesus never died on the cross for our sins. Blasphemy against the Spirit is to publicly deny Christ.

Just as God was faithful to Samson until he publicly renounced his last vow, made before he was born, so God is faithful to baptised children until they publicly renounce their baptismal vows. Parents of baptised children need to remind their kids of what their baptismal vows mean; that their baptism points them to Christ and seals them in a covenant relationship with God, that they should practice repentance and never renounce Christ.

How, then, do children break their covenant vows? They renounce Jesus, saying something like; “I once believed that Jesus was the Son of God.  I once believed he  lived and died on a cross because he loved me before I loved him, he died for my sins. I once believed that by not any more.” That’s when God walks away from his baptised children.

Ok, I was having lunch on campus yesterday with Dan when who should appear but some god-mocking, frequently guitar-twanging, big word using Psychology prof by the name of John V. who proceeded to complain that the old Thinking Shop has been featuring too many cats and not enough slinky babes of late.

John’s complaint seems to be based on the fact that I haven’t celebrated a carnival for a while. Well, it’s not my damn fault. Despite submitting a number of posts to the monthly Biblioblogger’s Carnival I didn’t get a look in for the October edition (which I’m not bitter about). And the same thing happened with the fortnightly Carnival of the Godless (which I am bitter about since the last edition had only about one third as many entries as usual). So, I wasn’t in a carnival mood so NOBODY got slinky carnival babe photos. SO HERE IS WHAT YOU DO.

YOU NOMINATE SOME OF MY POSTS FOR THE CARNIVALS, AND I WILL PROVIDE THE DANCING GIRLS!

All the info is on the links below which are also on the sidebar.

• Biblical Studies Carny
• Carnival of the Cats
• Carnival of the Godless
• Humanist Symposium

AND THEN… Just the other day, the (unglorious) Dr. Jim (West) whinged that all I feature here are “skanky” Rio Carnival women, even though he himself has been known to dabble in the “photoGRAPHIC arts” (i.e., on the scandalous side of the lens) of late.

What the heck am I supposed to blog about?

So, just to cheer me up and to get both sides of the blinkin’ complain-o-chorus off my case, here is something that should satisfy everyone!

Below the break

YES INDEED! ITS THE

CARNIVAL OF SLINKY BIBLE BABES!
Part the First.

First off is the First One:

Eve

From TVSpielfilm.de

Ulla Bergryd as Eve from the 1966 “The Bible” (Director John Huston).

Ok, I suppose I should also include a blog post about Eve. Here is Jim West from Sept. 2008 discussing a claim that Eve’s burial site has been found. Notice that he calls it “bunk”. We know what he has been thinking about. That’s right, dancing.

Potipher’s wife

Library of Congress photo

Pauline Frederick as Potiphar’s wife. Photo taken in 1910

For those who don’t know the story, one of the sons of Jacob ended up in Egypt slaving for a guy named Potiphar. Potiphar’s missus rather liked Joe and grabbed onto his robe. Joseph ran away in his birthday suit only to be arrested after the jilted Mrs. Potiphar accuses him of rape. In April of this year Chris Heard wondered who Potiphar was mad at (I bet it was the guy who first set him up with her…)

Pharaoh’s daughters

Ok, there are two of interest. The first was the girl who found baby Moses in a basket in the Nile and adopted him.  Matt Page at the Bible Film Blog had a post this past July on an 8 minute film from 1910 on the scene: Henri Andréani’s Moïse Sauvé des Eaux. I couldn’t find a still from the film, but I did find this:

Click to go to full size, preverts...

Joan Collins in Land of the Pharaohs from 1955 is probably totally historically accurate. Found the pic at DoctorMacro.

The other Pharaoh’s daughter is Solomon’s wife. It should be a different daughter. Probably neither Moses or Solomon  existed, but they didn’t exist at rather different times. Couldn’t find any pictures of Mrs. Solomon, either. Here is a reasonable facsimile.

Click the pic to buy this outfit for your own wardrobe.

Ummm, I suppose I should find a blog post about this…. I’ll um, get right around to it. The picture might need more study, first, ummmm, just for research’s sake, of course…

Moving right along, Solomon was quite the lady’s man. He even showed all his assets for visiting monarchs:

Queen of Sheba

Gina Lolabrigida in Solomon and Sheba

Now the Queen of Sheba was rich, powerful, clever, and almost completely topless. Alas, Solomon did not marry her, laments Renita J. Weems in a post from September who would probably be outraged at being included in so objectifying a carnival, so don’t go around assuming that she agrees to any of the vile sexist drivel.

Now, then, who else to include? We can’t have a carnival without

Delilah

Hedy Lamarr in de Mille’s Samson and Delilah.

As it tuns out, Matt Page has a post on this very film!

Anyway, one more will bring us to the end of Part the First, and who else would would do other than

Jezebel!

Stolen from Atlas Visuals

Hmmmmm, Paulette Goddard..mmmm…. She also starred in my all time favourite movie of all of forever, The Great Dictator with Charlie Chaplain:

Chaplin and Goddard in The Great Dictator, from Wikipedia

There is a whole industry devoted to defeating the “Jezebel Spirit”. Go on, just google “Jezebel Spirit” and you will see what I mean.

Yeah, “throw her down”, hope she calls the police, ya $#@*%!

Well, I would have thought Christians might have wanted her to keep her veils on. Oh well, who am I to judge.  Here is a mostly unveiled Jezebel…

Well, what the hell, let’s have some “music”!

Technorati Tags: carnival, humor, bible, Jezebel, Spirit+of+Jezebel, Paulette+Goddard, Charlie+Chaplin, Hedy+Lamarr, Delilah, Gina+Lolabrigida, Solomon, Queen+of+Sheba, Moses, Joan+Collins, Potiphar, Pauline+Frederick, Eve, Ulla+Bergryd

I can’t believe I’m already on my fourth post… but man, do I now realize how much I love to write! It’s been really nice to be able to get all my thoughts out in the open, even if not so many people have checked out my blog yet.

Something interesting happened at dance today. Not necessarily to me, but my teacher made a very inappropriate comment to one of the other girls. She had asked her, “Have you been eating well?” but she did not mean it like she thought the girl wasn’t eating but rather as if she thought the girl had been eating more. The girl, puzzled, asked her what she meant and my teacher explained to her that it looked like “she had filled out more” and that she was wondering if the girl had been eating more than she usually did. The girl interpreted that to our teacher thought she was getting fat.

Of course, my teacher is a nice woman and would never say that; nor I doubt that’s what she meant. But she can be not so smart with her words, and so I can see how the girl misinterpreted her comment. If my teacher had said to me, I too probably would have thought she meant I was getting fat, and the results would probably be disastrous. I doubt my classmate will end up taking the same path I did when I began to think I was fat a year ago, but I still hope she won’t take that to heart. She’s a very pretty girl, so I think next week I will compliment her on her eyes or hair, at least to ensure she doesn’t think she’s suddenly ugly because of her weight.

In other news, nothing else has been going on. Mom and I have been finding on the whole calorie increase issue, and it seems the more my parents talk to me about it, the less I want to do it. I would do it for me, but when I talk with them, it feels like they want me to do it for them, and I develop that whole bitchy-teenager vibe where I don’t want to please my parents. I really do want something out of this, not just my period and normal hormone levels, but something that’ll make me happy. I want some control, to be listened to, and at the moment it feels like I have none of that. I’m seeing my therapist on Monday, so perhaps we’ll talk about it and see where we go from that.

I’ma leave you with a picture of me, just to prove I’m real. ;D

…Or not a not-so-real. That’s a creepy photo of me, and my eyeliner is a bit totally messed up. Saturday night boredom?

I think so.

‘Nighty-’night!

-Delilah

Arwen

Delilah

Both slightly uncommon and pretty

Josh Duhamel is being accused of having an affair while on the set of his new movie "Life as We Know It", and his wife Fergie is choosing to stand by her man.

everafterplanner.com

The National Enquirer has gone as far as seeking out the stripper, Nicole Forrester, and wanting to pay out $20,000 for the story. "Josh bragged about what happened on the set of his movie "Life as we Know It", and someone  called the Enquirer with the tip,” her attorney, Romin Alavi tells Us Weekly. "The Enquirer then came to Nicole."

The stripper, commonly known as Delilah, sought out a polygraph test to prove she wasn’t lying after she went on an Atlanta radio show, Q100’s Bert Show, to spill.  "We did hook up and had lots of sex and we had a really, really good time." And she passed the test. Nicole claims Duhamel approached her

Read More

Let me be the first one to report… Saturday’s “Crossing the Threshold” excursion was a smashing success. As soon as we opened the coop door to let the ladies out, I’m pretty sure the heavens opened and angels began to sing. For about 3 seconds they pondered how this backyard paradise came to be. Then, realization sunk in. So this is what it’s like to be a backyard city chicken! It was kinda like when Aladdin sings “A Whole New World” to Jasmine on the magic carpet ride. It was city chicken bliss, I’m sure.

Athena takes the first step.

Though I’ll admit, this excursion wasn’t without a few bumps along the way.

1. Thought process: Hmmm, let’s see how Sadie (a.k.a. Beast Dog) will cope with free-range chickens.
2. Inside, Beast Dog is prepared for the chicken meet-and-greet. She steps into the yard sporting a leash, collar, and a muzzle.
3. Beast Dog is led to where the ladies are socializing.
4. Things go well. Suddenly, nerves get the best of the ladies. Simultaneous flapping ensues.
5. Beast Dog tries to eat Manola. Beast Dog is wearing a muzzle, so obviously this tactic doesn’t work.
6. Beast Dog brainstorms how else to satisfy her canine urge to destroy winged creatures.
7. Beast Dog BODY SLAMS Manola.
8. Manola is angry. Being tough, she walks away with only a few choice words.
9. Beast Dog is shamed. ALL afternoon.

It was rough. We’re hoping that eventually, Beast Dog will learn.

Meet Stealthy, the neighborhood raccoon.

• Athena is also known as Rogue. She was quite aggressive when it came to stealing beans from Laura’s veggie garden. Laura put up a little fence the next day.
• Watching Manola run is more entertaining than watching Monday night football.
• If the ladies competed in a 50-yard dash, Athena would take the lead. Delilah would be in second place. Manola would take up more than one lane on the track, and would likely knock down her competitors before any of them crossed the finish line. She would probably win because the other ladies would have to forfeit due to injuries sustained during the race.

Luckily Manola still had an appetite after being body slammed. She might want to try her luck at the professional wrestling circuit.

Today is going to be a monumental day. For the first time EVER, Manola, Delilah and Athena will cross the threshold from the safety of the coop into the backyard wilderness.  We’re letting them out of the coop.

Athena and Delilah are discussing what "threshold" means prior to stepping into the wilderness.

Before we get into the logistics of this wandering-through-the-backyard chicken adventure, I’d like to explain something.

When we moved into our house over a year ago, the backyard was a disaster. For you visual people out there, let me paint a picture: It was an I-don’t-really-give-a-care-and-feel-entitled-to-dump-my-trash-out-here-and-oh-yeah-sorry-about-all-the-unruly-blackberry-bushes-and-oops-my-bad-there’s-also-a-nice-laurel-tree-that-grows-like-wildfire-and-makes-the-neighbors-mad type of disaster.

What did the members of the Wallingford Hen House do? Well, when something doesn’t work, fix it. So we fixed it. Trash was cleaned out. Blackberry bushes were torn up. The laurel tree underwent a major trimming. We rototilled the entire back yard. We planted shrubs. We bought concrete pavers and made a nice little patio. We made a garden bed. And we planted grass seed. The backyard has come a really long way. For the first time, our grass looks like a real lawn, and that’s one of the reasons we can’t wait to let the ladies enjoy it as much as we do.

It's a wild world out there.

In all seriousness, chickens are supposed to do wonders to a backyard. While I doubt they’ll weed the veggie garden, I wouldn’t be surprised if they chowed down on pesky insects like slugs and spidies. We’ll keep you posted.

The ladies are feeling a little cooped up these days (no pun intended …) And we’re hoping this backyard excursion will help.

Toate ideile pierite din saptamani intregi de opozitie minora mi se aduna in cuvinte ca niste pumni inclestati a furie, a retineri infinite. Am incercat sa tratez moartea dorintrei de a mai gandi cu somn de forta majora, si toate gandurile mi s-au revoltat. Deja e razboi civil pe aici, cu strazile orasului pustii si cladirile prafuite care mi-erau atat de dragi lasate in paragina, ba chiar in pericol de bombardament.

Egoismul, in regrete si reprosuri, se manifesta ca valuri de ura, care ard in mutenie si dor cu o durere prea bine cunoscuta. Cosmarurile din fiecare noapte imi controleaza dictatorial potenta emotionala, pana cand niciun minut al zilei nu mai gaseste la mine vreo urma de mila, vreun rest de compasiune umana. Egoism sau indiferenta, empatie tocita pana la radacinile nervoase, contorsionata patetic.

“such a poor, wretched creature”, departe de orice asteptari pe care cineva ar putea sa le dedice vreunei creaturi cu potential oarecum viabil. Oricum, mereu m-au iritat asteptarile pe care unii isi permit sa mi le aplice.

I’ve never traveled in a starship, never lived in a castle in 12th century England, and I’ve certainly never cast a spell that turned a bunch of crushed herbs into a murder of crows, but that hasn’t stopped me from writing about them. However, meticulous research can only take me so far. There’s nothing like walking in the dirt I’m going to write about to add that touch of realism to a story.

When I wanted to write that spell-casting novel, I set it in Memphis and immediately decided to take a road trip. Memphis is only three hours down the road from me, so not a terrible jog. I spent the weekend there soaking in the atmosphere of Beale Street and walking along the edge of the Mississippi. I interviewed a police officer, took pics of his uniform and squad car, hit a few bars and a voodoo shop. I got the feel for the setting of my novel, listened to the cadence of the voices around me, smelled the air and experienced the weather—just to add that little kernel of truth at the center of my fantasy.

When I wanted to write a story about a couple of corrections officers working in a demon-infested prison, I interviewed my daughter and son-in-law who were guards at the time, but that wasn’t quite enough to help me feel grounded in the story. I applied for a job at the prison, walked past the gates under the eye of an armed guard in a tower into the administration area where I watched porters buffing floors. I didn’t get to see the housing units, but I know how the place looked from the outside and some of the inside. I saw the prisoners’ and guards’ uniforms, could smell the disinfectant and wax, felt that chill trickle down my spine when those heavy gates closed behind me—again, it was enough to ground the story in reality.

When I wanted to write a story about a search and rescue worker who specialized in cave rescues, I did the research, knew what equipment was common, what techniques are used, but I needed more. I fell back on my own experience rappelling in the Army and in college, and I spent an afternoon with a fireman who talked about his most daring rescues. Then I went to some of the public caves in the Texas Hill Country to get those sensory details I needed.

I’ve traveled most of Europe and have photos and memories to draw upon. I’ve walked through numerous ruined fortresses and castles. I know their size, where they were built, what it looks like from the top of the battlements. I’ve been to the museums to see medieval clothing, armor, weaponry and art. And now I have my books to fill in the details of the things I don’t know—like sapping techniques and how to clean out the cesspit. When I write a medieval historical novel, I have some basis of truth to begin with and I can weave the rest of the story around it.

Some authors do quite well just hitting the books, but I like to get a “feel” for my setting and my characters’ occupations as much as I need to fill in the blanks of my knowledge with some Internet surfing. When I went to a roller derby match with friends last Saturday, no amount of movie-watching or online research could fill in the pictures that strobed through my mind. I know the size of the arena, who attends the matches, how the women dress, how they sound when they play and especially when they fall. I watched how their bodies moved, smelled them up close after they’d been at it a while. I could write that roller derby queen now. Just have to hit the internet to figure out the rules of the game.

I’m heading out on a cruise to the Caribbean with Sasha White in December and I expect to come back with fodder for many stories. I’d never attempt a cruise ship story without actually experiencing it. Some things I have to live first before I can write them.

If you’d like to see some of the places I’ve gone recently in search of truths central to my stories, check out my blog travelogue: Delilah’s Travelogue

Esme Ruby Katherine

Esme Poppy Jane

Esme Willow Belle

Esme Beatrice, Esme Cordelia, Esme Felicienne, Esme Elisabeth,

Esme Juliet, Esme Linnea, Esme Mirabel, Esme Mereid, Esme Nuala,

Esme Flora Jane

Esme Rosabel

Esme Margaret Alice

Esme Tallulah Kate

Esme Delilah Ruby

Esme Theophania

Esme Viola, Esme Willamina, Esme Ysabelle, Esme Ailis,

Esme Winifred Lucy

Esme Minerva, Esme Magnolia, Esme Seraphina, Esme Amabel,

Esme Clara Jane

Esme Lavender,

Esme Isabella Mary

Esme Lily Frances

Esme Violet Penelope

Esme Pandora Jane

Esme Beatrix Lucy

Esme Anna Margaret

Esme Ruby Octavia

Thoughts? Suggestions? Thanks