I spent the second part of my trip in East Australia, no other than Queensland!

Fraser Island

The largest natural sand island in the world – Fraser Island! Home to the dingos, 4×4 trucks, and another of Australia’s natural wonders – Lake McKenzie!

All I see is Lake McKenzie

Lake McKenzie

Crystal Clear

A view through the lense - Lake McKenzie

4x4

Driving on the beach! Those poor hitchhikers...

Noosa

Sunset and kite surfing

Meat Pie! Beef, bacon, and cheese

Alexandria Bay (aka bare ass)

Jellyfish, we think

Yeah, I had posted earlier that I would be participating in the JayIsGames IF contest (over here), but it’s taken all that time for me to come up with a good idea. Yeah, a one-room contest with the theme of escape is not as easy to do as I thought, but I prevailed and will unleash my game! Mhu hah hah! I also came up with some other cool ideas that had a small number of rooms but didn’t really fit the theme, and at least one really cool idea that fit the number of rooms requirement, but wouldn’t hit the T rating. Think lots of blood, not perviness.

And oh, the name of the game? Zegrothenus. Repeat the word slowly over and over, as in sentences like this one: Zegrothenus will totally destroy in ‘10! Zegrothenus owns your free time. Zegrothenus…well, you get the idea.

And why did I decide to enter a contest, given my feelings on contests? Two answers: this contest features real prizes and it’s not held by the insular IF community. The latter makes all the difference in the world and the latter is nice to have.

I am SO in.

Friday November 27, 2009 By Kevin Morrow

Actually it already has been done. I have this concept of time which leads me to believe that there really is no time. I feel that anything I want to do is already done and I just have to catch up with it. When I think about doing things I remember this – “Be, Do, Have.” This implies to me that there is no time.

Other people have told me what they think I should be doing. I’ve even been told what I was doing was not giving me knowledge or putting money in my pocket. I understood where this came from because I observe levels of mind in interactions. Had I been only about money, this comment would have motivated me to become a better salesman. That’s not what I am however, I am not a salesman. Money is not my motivation, in fact motivation does not have the same meaning to me anymore.

Inspiration is what I relate to the most. I feel that it comes from the spirit. Any belief I have tends to limit me to a perception. The trouble of limiting myself to a perception is that when you I’m more aware and something that required more awareness comes along, I’m not be able to accept it.

So if I’m going to believe something, I might as well chose to believe in something that will not limit my awareness. That’s what I mean when I say I have an open mind.

Here is how I experience reality.

This is just within my mind, and it doesn’t mean that it’s true to anyone else. This is how I chose not to limit my mind. I see reality as if it’s one big dream. Life is like a video game being played within the minds of people. I use these terms to create a visualization within the minds of those who read this. I think there are fundamental basic rules and then the player believes in what they choose to be reality.

In this life there is a physical aspect and a spiritual aspect. I cannot function well in this reality without being balanced within those realms. I see that everyone has a mind and that the minds are similar in how they perceive and construct reality.

I also realize that I’m the only one conscious in my reality. Meaning there are other players in the game, but I am the only one consciously perceiving from my eyes, and through my point of awareness. Where that point is I cannot tell you, but as you can see, you are reading this from your point of awareness.

So, it seems that reality can be molded like clay. Therefore the mind can be molded like clay. I feel that my mind should be molded to benefit the highest good of myself and of all people. This is my reality. I see this reality as already being done. I’m just catching up to it.

ONE MIND…

The above is a segue into my belief in one mind. Of course language and words can be misinterpreted, so let me explain what I mean. I don’t believe that anybody is separate from me. I feel as though the one point of awareness is shared by all as if there is one mind.

The reason I say this is because the more I look outside of myself and see separation, the more I see dysfunction. I see unity in great teams, families, projects, and even gangs have an element of unity. In all themes there is general acceptance to one frame of mind.

So it seems that at a deeper level, maybe the one mind is fragmented and therefore experiencing in many different forms. Just like I was not the homeless man on the freeway in Vegas, I could see myself as him and therefore I had to help him. If I saw him as insignificant or as something negative, I would not have helped him. But I saw no purposeful reason to not help him. I was looking for any way that I could help him.

Some people call what I’m talking about “The watcher of the thoughts.” That is the consciousness. The consciousness must be in another realm of existence than that of physicality. So words like awareness have been formed to describe that which we are discussing. The people that seem to be outside of me, eat, sleep, and use the restroom just like me. No matter how rich or how poor they are. This to me is a sign of the “real” reality.

I have dreams, and I awake from the dreams into a physical reality. Sometimes I don’t remember the dreams. How do I know that I don’t wake up from physical reality as if it’s a dream and I just don’t remember it? I don’t. There must be a reason for that.

The reality of pain

I feel as though reality is in the mind. What you believe to see is what you see. What you believe you can have is what you have. What I believe I can be I am at any point in time.This is possible because there really is no time, everything happens now. When in pain, I believe in the pain until I have reason to believe that it’s gone. I have literally believed pain to disappear and it did.

This leads me to feel as though anything I want to accomplish is already done. Anything in consciousness that has been done can be done. Anything that can be done through consciousness, can be done. Essentially everything has been done, or will be done, in the realm of conscious ability. Great projects are formed first in the mind, which means they can be done when aligned with physicality.

Physical reality is slower than mental reality because its vibration is much denser. Look into the world and you can see evaporated water moves faster than raindrops. Observe your own self and you will see thoughts move faster than your hand.

There are different levels of thought, it takes thought for you to move your hand in the first place. Once I believe something is “possible” that already was “possible” it becomes automatic. Just like moving my hand.
In order for my consciousness to win something like the lottery, the money would have to come to me not from a form of lack, and FOR the greater good of myself and others. Otherwise I don’t believe its possible for me.

Intentionally, I wouldn’t want it any other way. Who I am right now at this very moment is ready for something like that to happen. But what are the deeper levels of belief? What are the deeper levels of direction? Those are the true questions.

Conflict in relationships and between minds

I occasionally witness conflicts in relationships and between minds because they feel they are separate. As things that are separate they operate for survival of self. Whether it be ego identification or something else. To me this is my mind working itself out. I have to forgive things that I think matter and heal my mind. Therefore what I do to others is like I’m doing it to myself.

“Peoples judgments are more about you than they are about themselves.”

There is this show on TV that my sister watches called “Bad Girls Club.” The girls on the show tend to have a lot of pain. Pain comes from fear of separation. A good majority of the women on the show hurt other people because they are hurting on the inside and don’t know how to heal it.
The mind mirrors into reality what is being fed to it. So if your hurting you will see and create more hurt.

I see this within my own mind. I see that there are things that I may believe as true that may be hurting me, so I must forgive them and move on. What’s the purpose of holding on to something like that?

It’s not my fault syndrome

Anything you want to accomplish can be done. But when you blame others for it not happening, or say it’s not your fault, you create this reality in your mind. I have to be responsible for my reality. My thoughts and beliefs create it. Separation creates pain, so I have to heal my pain. If I blame it on other people, I’m really blaming it on myself.

Doing that creates a cycle within minds and it gets repeated over and over. The same way it does within your mind. That’s why I say “One Mind.”

Perceptions of reality

Perception always limits awareness. It narrows awareness down to a point of view. A perception is like sitting in the nose bleeds at a basketball game or sitting court side. Awareness is seeing the game from all possible angles with no distinctions. This is something the mind may not be able to comprehend, therefore it operates through perception.

Fear is a perception

Anything I want to do can be done, and is done. That is a perception, because it leaves the idea that it can’t be done, which is also a perception. Why wouldn’t something be accomplished? Take the time to ask yourself the question. The only reason something would not be able to be accomplished is because for some reason fear becomes reality.

Fear is a perception, if I were to look at something I wanted to do from all awareness at once, why would I be aware of the fact that it can’t be done? What’s the purpose of seeing that way? To me there isn’t a purpose to that.

If I’m experiencing in a physical world and I have the choice of operating from a source of love, faith, and belief, why would I chose fear?

So what is it that I Want to Do?

I’m doing what I want to do right now. Some people see it as weird because of what it appears to be. Some see it as cool because what it appears to be to them. To me it appears to be what I want to do. I see it as healing the minds of others and my own at the same time. I provide content that’s interesting and follow my intuition. I have created my own job. The things I need are already inside of me, and are provided to me right now. As fact my reality that appears outside of me reflects my beliefs. The things within in me that I have already, appear available to me in my outer reality. This includes, money,transportation,tools,people, and anything else needed to be of overall good to all.

My articles get better as I write them, and I do what I say I will do. As I provide more truth and more value, my income mirrors that. Right now I have no worries about money because I know that I’m never poor. I’m always rich no matter what my physical world may say at the moment.

College completed faster than “normal” happens in my awareness because I believe it to be possible. This is something I see as possible within myself. Money flows to me in avalanches of abundance because I provide value from my spirit. Not because I lack money, but because I believe myself to be valuable. I see others as apart of me and anyone in my awareness is there for me to help in some way, or vice versa.

Some may not understand because it’s not the main stream approach to reality, and that’s okay. To me it means I have limitless potential. Every person I meet is an opportunity to heal the one mind. Everything I think,do, and believe, is opportunity to heal. I feel so much love right now.

El colector de admisión del turbo es una parte fundamental del motor y una de las mas dificiles de encontrar. Después de haber buscado por la red que solución dan a este problema otros preparadores, la conclusión es que por lo general se toma alguno de estos 3 caminos que voy a describir a continuación:

• Colector de alta calidad fabricado artesanalmente en los EEUU. Esta es la opción mas cara y también la más segura. Una  empresa que los fabrica por ejemplo es 666 Fabrication y se pueden encargar también para otros motores de BMW como el M50 o el M30. El precio lo podeis consultar en su página.

Colector artesanal (fuente: 666fabrication)

• Colector de calidad dudosa fabricado en Asia. Este es el que tengo yo, es el que se vende con los kits turbo en Ebay. No he escuchado nada ni bueno ni malo sobre ellos, será cuestion de probarlos. Su precio ronda los 300-400eur. Si alguien tiene interés en comprar uno de ellos y no sabe como, puede ponerse en contacto conmigo. El colector no tiene mala pinta, las soldaduras estan medianamente bien realizadas y en teoría esta fabricado en INOX (AISI 304). A este colector hay que soldarle un refuerzo extra para evitar que se parta a consecuencia de las dilataciones térmicas y las vibraciones. Cuando lo haya soldado cuelgo las fotos. Tener en cuenta que estos colectores no tienen salida para wastegate externa así que hay tener en cuenta que el turbo que seleccionemos la debe tener incorporada.

Colector "made in china"

• Colector de fundicion de serie+colector artesanal. En esta variante, se utiliza el colector de serie del E30 fabricado por fundición y sobre el se atornilla otro colector que va de este al turbo. En la imagen se puede ver perfectamente como esta disposición. Ahora mismo estoy intentando fabricar uno de estos por si me falla el que tengo. Cuando lo tenga terminado os cuelgo las fotos. Como la segunda parte del colector es artesanal, podeis integrarel baypass para la wastegate externa o no.

Colector de serie+extensión (fuente: turbotechnik.de)

Os dejo una foto de mi motor con el colector y el turbo presentados.

Colector + turbo

I had my painting class tonight.  I really suck at it.  In fact I might be worse at painting than I am at salsa, and that is definitely bad.

Anyway, Boyfriend drove me to painting, and on the way he was asking about my plans.  He said that he wished I would go out with him more.  The way I see it, he chose to go away and my life carries on without him.  I don’t hold back from making plans because I’m not sure when he’s going to be here.  That means that sometimes – like now – he can be at home but I am too busy to hang out with him.

In a way I don’t really want to hang out with him.  We have very little in common these days, and things change so much while he’s away that I find it really hard to relate to him when he returns.

I know I keep writing about this, but I feel like I’m constantly being challenged about my relationship with him.  I know we don’t see much of each other, but I like having him around under the terms that I’ve got used to.

Boyfriend picked me up after painting.  He asked me if I still love him.  I replied before I had a chance to think of a good lie.  I said “sometimes”.  He told me that he still loved me and that was all that mattered.  If only that was true.  Sometimes love isn’t enough.  But when I was speaking to Head Doctor about it the other day we talked about the dance, and that you have to realise you’re out of sync before you can correct it.

So, I guess we just wait and see if we want to correct it when the times comes.  For now though, I’m going to stick to my guns and not worry about it.  My priorities are:

• my health – I’ve got a lot of self-inflicted abuse to make up for
• my future – I need to start my PhD, and come up with a back-up plan

I don’t think that anyone would criticise me for looking after myself for the first time in my 28 years of consciousness.  Or would they?

I need to find the happy medium so that I can respect myself but keep the respect of others.  That’s my main challenge.

Thursday November 26, 2009 By Kevin Morrow

A couple years ago I set out on a mission to BE MYSELF. I really didn’t know exactly what I meant, but I knew it was something I needed to do. I felt like I was doing what other people were telling me, and not what I felt was right for me.

To be yourself you have to let a lot of things that don’t matter go. I have slowly realized this. I feel like a lot of people measure progress by time. Like four years from high school you graduate college and that is an accomplishment. I tend to see things a little differently. I think that your progress is really an uncovering of your self.

But it seems to me the more I hold on to things that are restricted by time, the more I am measuring my growth based on something that fades away. Every accomplishment will eventually fade away with time.

I have to ask myself, “What is self improvement really?” What does it mean to me?

My answer has to do with my mind and the reality that I experience. In order for me to do this I feel like I have to live my self image. Which at times has a lot to do with money. I look at money though and I see something that I would not want my self image to represent. As far as the the paper material.

I feel as if my self image is much bigger than I actualize. I know this to be due to how my mind sees reality. The thing is, if I put my self image value into material things that pass away, I am building a foundation on a spider web. Another way to put it it, “I’m skating on thin ice.” So what is the strongest foundation.

For me my strongest foundation has been that I know I can do better. I know I can be more loving in all aspects of my life. I feel that love is my real self image. But if I limit myself to something then I’m not open to other possibilities.

Also, when I identify money with my self image, something else shows up. The idea of loss. If I need money that means I’m lacking something, and when I have money that means it’s possible to lose it. This is where worry shows up.

A lot of people tell me that they are afraid to lose money, or they are afraid to lose their boyfriend/girlfriend, and this really makes me think. If I identify with money as my personal growth, I’ll limit myself from a lot of experiences.

I have told myself that I’m no longer afraid to be a what I know I can be. Instead of studying other people, I studied myself and then I compared my thoughts to those who were in positions I viewed as “high achievements.”

I have to ask myself what is it that I think I have to achieve? Me, and nobody else, what do I have to achieve? I had no answer for myself.

The only thing I know for certain is that I want to strengthen my faith in the higher power. In my mind I feel as though I don’t have to strengthen my faith. I feel like I just have to remember it.

Now I have come to a good solution within my mind. This is how I can live my life without being afraid. If I live my life out of unconditional love, remember my faith in the higher power/which in turn strengthens my faith in the higher power, I will have my real achievement.

Imagine I have no fear of money, therefore situations appear to mirror that reality in my life. This means to that however the money comes to me, I will not be afraid to lose it. I’m not afraid to lose it because I know that no matter what happens I will always have it. Why? Well because I’m not afraid to lose it.

If your not afraid to lose something, it must mean you have it. Either that or you don’t have it, or don’t care for it, but I used the first example as an illustration.

Worry and doubt are the opposites of FAITH

I’ve learned in my life that worry and doubt are the opposites of faith. The things I have faith in happening, actually happen in my life. This is something I rolled around my thoughts until the light bulb clicked.

There is a difference between me being a multimillionaire that thinks the money is who I am, and being a multimillionaire that knows the money is just a material tool. The more I feel the money is who I am, the more depressed I can get about the amount I have right now. But if I don’t look at it like that, I open myself up to infinite possibility.

My relationship with basketball has helped heal my mind…

The best examples I can give come from my relationship with basketball. I use to identify who I was with how I could play basketball. This was very shaky with me because my self image definitely is bigger than the current situation looks like. The key though, is that it only appears that way if that’s how I’m looking at it.

Today it doesn’t make sense to me that I put my self worth into how I perform on the court. There will be on days and off days. Some days I will dominate the court and some days I may not. So where does my self worth rest? To me it’s in who I help, and how I contribute to the team, whether physically or mentally or both.

That is a big challenge to me. I don’t want to dominate other people, I want to help everyone be their best, and in turn be my best at the same time. I also have a different view of domination. I see it as will-power instead. The will to win, the will to overcome defense, the will to overcome mental lapses. That’s what I view what some call domination. When I play against someone, I want them to make me better.

I see myself in people I know…

A lot of people I know play college ball, play pro ball, and I up until this blog I haven’t played as I see myself. These are creations of my mind. Because I get thrilled when I see somebody I know playing college ball or pro ball, all I want to do is help them become better in any way I can.

I love to see people live their dreams, its fun. I know a guy right now who plays basketball in northern Cali, and I think that he has the ability to play in the NBA. Maybe apart of me sees myself in him or something. Maybe that’s what happens when I see anybody I know playing college or pro. I think to myself, if I were them I would want to know that other people believed in me.

I know a few players who lived in my same city who are playing overseas and or about to. It brings a smile across my face. Something that they may never know, but I know. I feel it within me everyday.

It may sound strange but this is my blog and I put it all out there. I had a conversation about rappers calling themselves the king of rap, or even the God of rap as Jay-z would say.The thing with that is, there can never be a clear winner, and they are claiming something that will fade away. What is the point?

And what good is being a King if you don’t help other people?
I’m not saying they don’t do these things, I was just throwing the idea out there.

Check this out, if I put my worth into how I can play basketball, then anytime I’m defeated I may feel as though I’m nothing. Instead I should remember that I am SOMETHING, and focus on what should be done to win the next game.

I’ve been there. I can play basketball with the best of players. But when I identify and look at my situation then depressed feelings come in because my current situation is not what it could be. These are all things of that past that I no longer do. But I’m using my past to illustrate how the mind shapes its reality.

These are all images in the mind. I play the game because it’s fun. To me it’s fun when everyone on the team is on the same page, and the highlights are flowing, and the defense is intense. I love the energy of the game. But if I think that’s who I am, I become vulnerable to things that are counterproductive to who I think I am. Unless of course I know who I am.

I only view it as self improvement when I’m identifying with things that are subject to change. If I base my self-image off of things like love, teamwork,making others better, and contributing to the overall good of all, then I feel a true sense of accomplishment. It seems that’s just who I am.

I could play for any team in the NBA and contribute to them mentally and physically and I know I would contribute in a positive way. Where I am mentally I can feel this as true reality. Even if I didn’t play, I know that mentally I could help any team just based on how I view reality.

When I say things like this, it’s like I’m remembering myself.
When I set out on this journey that’s what I intended to do. I felt like I knew there was a greater me waiting to be uncovered.

It’s like coming out of amnesia, the whole time people are telling you who you are or were, but you have to uncover who you are for yourself. And who you are is always there no matter what. Everything that’s not real fades away, while everything that’s real lives on. That sentence is deeper than it looks for those that view themselves as “thinkers.”

Thank you for reading.

-Kevin

Happy Thanksgiving!

A driver with amazing skills gets away from the police for 3 times. In the end he gets busted, but his performance was incredible.

When Teddy told Tommy and Timothy Turkey
the trick to transcending Thanksgiving tragedy…

… it was music to their ears!
…………………………………………………………

Another little stretch of the Illustration Friday theme, in order to wish one and all the happiest Thanksgiving!

It was twelve forty-seven by the dashboard clock; no interior lights glowed in the house. The porch light was dark. When Rachel turned off the headlights, only the street lamp cut the darkness. She killed the engine and coasted into the driveway, hoping her father was not home, or already asleep. She leaned against the car door until it latched quietly, then crept into the house.

“You’re late,” Steve said in her ear as he flipped on the foyer light. The keys clattered on the tile floor and Rachel swallowed half a scream. The rest came out as a plaintive whimper; she sagged against the door for support and took a deep breath.

“You scared the crap out of me!”

“Where have you been? It’s one in the morning.” He ignored her remark. His voice was calm, but he folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes.

“I, um, I went for a drive.” Her heart was still pounding, her mouth was dry, and her knees were shaking. The sudden light was blinding; she was disoriented and off guard, which was probably the point.

“Kate said you left around nine. You drove around for almost four hours?”

Rachel fixed her eyes on her keys, afraid to pick them up, afraid to move. With one long stride, her father closed the distance, standing centimeters away from her, millimeters. She tried to step backward, but the door stopped her. Very reluctantly, she met his stare.

“You’ve been drinking.” It was a statement, not a question, so Rachel said nothing. Like a palm tree in a hurricane, she could only hope she wouldn’t break in the path of his anger; bending was inevitable. He stood there for a full minute, just looking at her, the calm before the storm. “We’ll discuss this in the morning when you’re sober.” Finally, he picked up her key-ring and turned away. Rachel could only stand there, not sure it was over. He hadn’t even yelled at her yet. Steve turned back and tossed the keys to Rachel, who caught them reflexively. The key to the Mustang was missing.

*****

The next morning, her father was waiting for her when she came downstairs. Rachel braced herself for the explosion she expected, but all he said was, “Morning,” as he looked over the top of the newspaper. With a little sigh that was only partly relief – because she knew she was still in trouble – Rachel made a cup of instant coffee and sat at the table.

A palpable silence grew between them, broken only by the rustling of the newspaper pages as he turned them. Rachel reached for a section of the paper and pretended to read. She could not escape the inevitable confrontation, but she would not initiate it; she would say nothing until her father made the first move. After about ten minutes, he finally did.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened last night?”

“I did tell you. I went for a drive,” Rachel responded in an even tone.

“For four hours.”

“Well, I stopped by Joel’s for a while.”

“I see,” said her father. “And did Joel’s parents give you booze? Do they let him drink? They think that’s okay?”

Biting back a sharp retort, she took a deep breath to dissipate her annoyance. If she was sarcastic, or fought him in any way, she would only get in more trouble. “No, that wasn’t it at all. Joel’s parents weren’t home. And I bought some beer before I went over there,” she answered, hoping he would accept the small lie – she didn’t want to tell him she was drinking hard liquor. Somehow, she knew that would upset him more. “We split a six-pack, Dad, it’s not like I was drunk or anything.”

“Hold on. You’re sixteen years old, Rachel, you shouldn’t be drinking at all. It doesn’t matter if it’s a six-pack of beer or a case of scotch. You can get arrested, spend the night in juvie. The charge is minor in possession of alcohol. Did you know I could be sued if anything happens while you are breaking the law? So don’t tell me you weren’t drunk, because it’s irrelevant. What matters is you aren’t supposed to drink. Period.”

“I’m sorry,” responded Rachel meekly.

Her father held up a hand and continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And it isn’t okay to drive when you’ve been drinking, despite what you think you know. Alcohol is a depressant. The very first beer affects your system. You might not feel drunk after two beers, but your reflexes are slowed. That’s how people get killed.” He stopped abruptly.

Rachel could only stare at him, appalled. How many times did you drive home? How many times did you park the car in the yard and pass out on the couch? And you never got in a wreck. You should have. It should have been you. She bit her cheek to keep the words in; she tasted blood on her tongue.

After a moment, Steve said, “I’m keeping your car keys for a week.”

“Okay. Fine, whatever.” Her tongue pushed between her teeth and she bit down hard again. She pushed her chair back from the table.

“I’m not finished.”

“What?” Her bangs fell in her eyes and she tossed her head to shake them back.

“Your aunt said you were upset when you left. What happened?”

“She didn’t tell you?” When Steve shook his head, she said, “I’d rather straighten it out with her, if you don’t mind.”

Steve caught her gaze and held it before he said, “Okay, Rachel. Just be sure you do straighten it out.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes, that’s it. End of lecture. I’ll let you know if I think of something to add,” he said, smiling.

“I’m sure you will,” Rachel muttered.

“What did you say?”

“I said okay. No problem, Dad.”

*****

Without wheels, Rachel was forced to walk to school the next week, which was humiliating in itself. Plus, she had to spend her evenings at home with her father, which was unbearable. She didn’t dare ask to borrow her father’s car. He hadn’t mentioned it, but she knew that she was restricted not only from her car, she was just plain restricted. Resigned to her fate, Rachel spent her afternoons doing her homework and her evenings in her room, sneaking drinks and watching television. The week was a prison sentence.

With the extra time on her hands and nothing to do, Rachel’s room was soon cleaner than it had ever been and she rearranged the furniture twice before putting it all back in the original positions. She was filled with a restless energy that she didn’t know what to do with. The plastic bag of black beauties was still in her purse, but Rachel had no desire for them now; she was like a caged animal, restless and irritable.

Joel called early in the week and she talked to him for over an hour, hungry for human contact. Jenny and Rachel had not spoken since their argument and Rachel missed her. Susan was a drug connection, not a friend. At school, Jenny and Dan had been her gang, her clique, and she hadn’t needed anyone else. It hurt too much to think about Dan, but he was always lurking at the edges of her memory.

As soon as Joel’s voice came through the receiver, Rachel felt better – unknowingly, Joel tossed her a lifeline. Stretching out on her bed, she made herself comfortable and told him what happened Saturday night. Everything. “She was just trying to help me and I made a total fool of myself. I can’t believe I accused her of having an affair with my dad. I didn’t mean to say it, it just came out.” She glanced at the bedroom door. As far as she knew, her father still didn’t know what had happened and Rachel didn’t want him to know.

“Wow. That’s pretty intense. So they’re … what? Dating?” Joel asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, Joel. They both say they’re just friends, but I think it’s weird. They sure act like they’re dating.”

“Wow,” Joel said again. “Can’t even imagine that one.”

“My aunt is so cool; we get along great. That’s why I feel so bad about it.”

“Then just apologize to her. Tell her what you’ve been telling me.”

“You’re so easy to talk to. I like that about you,” Rachel admitted. Thinking about the night they met, she laughed and added, “You know, I wasn’t sure I liked you when we first met.”

“No way! You’re kidding, right? I’m an extremely likable guy,” he retorted.

“Yeah, really. I like you now, though.”

“Well, at least you learn from your mistakes,” he responded, making her giggle again. “Are you going to be grounded this weekend?”

“I didn’t ask, but I’m sure I am. This is driving me nuts. It’s not like I did anything bad. I mean, I was less than an hour late. I sure hope my car never breaks down – he would probably take my firstborn for that,” said Rachel sarcastically.

Joel laughed with her and then had a sudden inspiration. “Wait a second. You’re grounded from your car and from leaving the house, right? Are you allowed visitors? Even hard-core criminals get to have visitors.”

“He didn’t mention, but I’m sure that only means he didn’t think of it.”

“Why don’t I come over tomorrow? I won’t stay long, you won’t get busted. I could pick you up from school if you want. Hate for you to have to walk.”

“Would you really? That would be great, Joel.”

“Good. If I can’t take you out this weekend, I’d at least like to see you if I can. Besides, it’s partly my fault you’re in trouble.”

“That’s true. You owe me big time!” Rachel accused, trying to sound harsh, but she couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice.

“Then I’ll see what I can do to make your confinement more tolerable.”

“That would be a good trick, if you can do it. I hate this. I’m trying to be cool about it, because if my dad knew how much it bothered me, he would ground me for the rest of my natural life.”

“Hey, it will be over before you know it.”

“Yeah, right.”

His laughter echoed in her ear. “Man, Rachel, you are such a pessimist! Cheer up, will you? I’ll see you tomorrow, okay.”

“I’ll be here. Where else am I going to go?” she replied despondently, but she was smiling again.

*****

Making her way between the cars in the school parking lot, Rachel was treated with a cacophony of stereos – all tuned to different stations. The noise receded slightly as she neared the building and Rachel sighed with relief. Her head was pounding and she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Pausing to light a cigarette, she scanned the crowd gathered in front of the gym doors, looking for Susan, but didn’t see her.

A thin cloud of gray smoke hovered over the students in the chill morning air. Rachel was early, so only a dozen kids gathered around, but they were all smoking something. The familiar scent of marijuana drifted toward her and she followed her nose to a small group by the wall. Surrounded by four other guys, a kid Rachel only vaguely recognized was selling. Dressed in the requisite jeans and leather jacket, his dirty brown hair hung in his eyes as he conducted business from his little corner. Inching her way forward, Rachel benefited him with her best smile and patiently waited her turn.

“Got a joint, man?” asked the boy standing next to her. He looked stoned already, his eyes bloodshot and his speech slurred.

“No shit,” said the dealer as he shook the plastic bag he was holding. It was filled with joints. “How many you want?”

“Couple. Two. How much?” the customer asked nervously. Acne sprinkled his face and Rachel took a step backward to get away from him. She could smell his sour breath.

“Ten bucks.”

“No way. For two joints?”

“You heard me. That’s the price. End of story.” The dealer turned away, shrugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders. Two of the other boys laughed quietly, lazily, but they were staring at the kid. Rachel could tell they were getting impatient.

“Okay, okay. Wait.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. “This is all I’ve got,” he whined.

The dealer plucked the bill from him and handed him a joint. “Then this is all you get. Enjoy.” The three of them laughed as the kid scurried away and then the dealer turned to Rachel. “Hi, what can I help you with?” he asked, suddenly smiling and friendly.

“Um, how about a joint?” she asked, her voice shaking a little.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied and reached into the bag. He lit the cigarette, took a deep drag and handed it to Rachel. Surprised and unsure what to do, she accepted it with a questioning glance. “Go ahead. Try it out. If you don’t like it, it’s free.”

Shrugging, she took a drag, pulling the smoke into her lungs and holding it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Susan approaching and she waved as she handed the joint back. The residue from the pot was sweet on the tip of her tongue and she exhaled slowly, enjoying the taste. “Not bad,” Rachel judged. “How about a couple of them?”

“No problem. Five bucks.”

Rachel cocked her eyebrow and said, “I thought it was ten bucks.”

“That was for him. For you, it’s five.” He smiled at her with yellowing teeth and Rachel hid a grimace as she handed him a five dollar bill and received two joints in return.

“Thanks. And thanks for the hit.”

“See ya around,” the dealer said, taking another drag off the joint he still held.

Rachel joined Susan along the wall and lit the joint, placing the other in her cigarette pack. “How’s it going?” she asked, holding the smoldering cigarette toward Susan, who accepted it eagerly.

“Much better now, thanks. I was up half the night studying for that English test.”

“English test?” Rachel looked stunned. “What are you talking about?”

“Um, there’s a test today. Murphy mentioned it about ninety times last week, and she reminded us about thirty times this week.”

“No way,” Rachel groaned. “I forgot all about it. Over The Fountainhead, right?” When Susan nodded, Rachel sighed with relief. “Maybe I can wing it, that was one of my favorite books. I should be okay. I hope.” Rachel took another deep drag off the joint and then pinched it out between her fingers.

“I can’t believe you actually liked that book. It was the most boring thing I’ve ever read – nothing happens. It was so boring I couldn’t get through it. That’s why I was up late last night, trying to skim the rest of it so I would at least have a clue.”

“You can safely give up on that, Susan.”

“Give up on what?”

“Having a clue.” Rachel ignored Susan’s indignant screech and scanned the parking lot, watching cars vie for the best parking spaces. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dan’s Monte Carlo enter the lot and her gaze followed him as he pulled into a space near the building. It wasn’t the cool place to park, but Dan had never cared much about being cool, she thought with a pang. Susan saw where Rachel was looking and gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Still hung up on him, huh?” she asked quietly.

“No,” came the sharp response. Turning to her friend, she made herself smile and said more calmly, “Not at all.” Feeling very mellow from the joint, she grinned and lit another cigarette. “Besides, I’m kind of going out with someone else.” Susan’s look of admiration made her smile wider. “Remember that guy I told you about? The one who gave me the weed?”

“Get out of here! You are too much, Rachel, I swear. You’ve got guys everywhere. I don’t supposed you’d care to pass along my phone number, would you?”

“Yeah, right. But at least you’ll get a chance to meet Joel today. He’s picking me up after school.”

Susan just shook her head as Rachel laughed and they walked into the building together. In the main lobby, they went in separate directions, Susan to her locker and Rachel her history class. As she walked into the room, thinking about Joel, Rachel was still smiling.

Midwest Adventures- Milwaukee

By Megan

Milwaukee- land of Solomon Juneau, the self-proclaimed first white guy spotted in the area; Leif the Discoverer of Iceland, and of course, a town synonymous with beer.  It seemed ever-so-close to Chicago (my current stomping grounds) and therefore warranted a visit on an early-fall Saturday.  So, my travel bud  and I hopped on a Megabus and drifted our way up to the state up north with dreams of strong brews and delicious cheese.

The first stop was the Milwaukee Public Market located in the posh Third Ward.  It seemed to call out to picnic provisioners and lost souls alike, so we crossed over the bridge and landed smack dab in what my version of shoppers heaven might look like.  I grabbed first for some nutmeg nuts to grind fresh, feeding a recent baking addiction.  And while paying for my delicious treasure, I quickly realized that it was the cleanest market I had ever visited.  Unlike Barcelona’s Boqueria, the floor was spotless.  There were few, if any, identifiable tourists and I didn’t fear for the life of my purse.

It didn’t even smell like a market, but I was soon distracted by a quiet gentleman who helped us pick out a cheddar (a test of the five-year cheddar taught me that I wasn’t ready for that degree of sharpness) and a local muenster, known as the world’s best sandwich cheese (pretty damn good when eaten with raisins too, just so you know).  A fresh loaf of bread and some award winning fire-brewed (whatever that means) root beer later, and our indoor picnic was set.

We stowed the leftovers for later and set out to explore the city on foot.  Neither of us were too interested in seeing the Warhol exhibit at the museum, but I heard the museum structure itself was worth the hike.  It was one of the most literal translations of a boat onto an architectural structure that I have ever seen, except the ‘hull’ was made up of windows over looking Lake Michigan.

It was early afternoon at this point, and the sun called for a nap in the park next to the art museum, so we obeyed. Finally, it was time to get down to business and grab a brewsky.  I paired a Rocky’s Revenge (Nut Brown Ale) with mac’ n’ cheese, and my bud had a famous Spotted Cow.  At the brat eating contest, I lamented the absence of my camera while teams of four scarfed down bun and dogs as fast as possible.  Quote from a contestant, “Yeah baby!  That’s how you eat a brat!”- insert loud frat boy voice here, please.

Brewsky number two was a Furthermore’s Fatty Bombalatty which I enjoyed with even more cheese, which I knew was a lot of cheese, but was seemed worth it- especially since I don’t know when I’ll be back next .  The bus ride back to Chicago was uneventful, except for the stomach ache.  All-in-all, Milwaukee made for the perfect escape form the city, which I would highly recommend, especially the cheese over indulgence.

Escaped slaves also found comfort and protection amongst the Seminoles.  Angry slave owners entered Indian villages searching for fugitives, whom they considered their property.  Because they had welcomed the runaways into their villages, the white slave owners attacked the Seminoles and burnt their villages down.

As white settlers began to notice the rich and fertile land of Florida, they began to move into Seminole lands.  Soon they ordered the Seminole people to abandon their homes and move west of the Mississippi River.

Though Osceola was young, he was smart and fierce and he began to emerge as leader amongst his people.  Upon reaching Florida, they found sanctuary with the Seminoles.  These Florida Indians were really a part of the Creek Nation and spoke a very similar language.  The Seminoles were first called Seminolies, which is thought to derive from the Spanish word “cimarron,” meaning “wild people” or “runaway.”

Many Creek Indians moved to Florida from Georgia and Alabama in the 1700s to avoid contact with Europeans, as well as other Native groups.  Some relocated because they sought fertile land.  After Peter McQueen, leader of the Red Stick faction of the Creek Nation, attacked Fort Mims and killed 400 white men, women and children, Andrew Jackson initiated a campaign against the Red Sticks.  800 Red stick Creeks were killed in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, and their villages were burnt.  Little Owl was only eleven years old when he and his mother fled Alabama with a group of Red Sticks led by McQueen.

These items are best kept in medium-sized backpacks or duffel bags in the trunk of your car (each car)

• Pocket-knife such as Swiss Army or Leatherman-style multipurpose tool, with locking blade and plain edge.
• Straight fixed-blade knife in sheath, 4-6 inch, plain edge
• Flashlight with extra batteries. The battery-free, hand-crank flashlights are best
• Cyalume light sticks, check expiration date
• Krill Lamps, longer lasting lights with long shelf life
• Radio with extra batteries. The hand-crank radios are best
• Sturdy shoes or boots (not brand new , broken in and waterproof are best)
• Signal mirror
• Dust respirators
• Work gloves with leather palms
• Garbage Bags
• Canned food
• Hand-crank can opener
• Hardhat
• Goggles
• Dust Respirators
• Duct tape
• Weather / location / seasonal items (snowshoes, rain-suits, chains etc)
• Emergency supplies (2 weeks) of all medications taken by everyone in the family
• Small first aid kit
• Supply of cash and credit cards
• Canned food, water supply, hand-crank can opener
• Cups, forks, spoons, plates
• Space blankets
• Iodine water purification tablets or water filter.
• Whistles on lanyards.
• Safety pins
• Crow bar
• Matches
• Hygiene products
• Garbage bags, large, heavy duty
• Extra keys for cars, home, cabin, work etc
• Copies of necessary documents
• Playing cards
• Sleeping bags, poncho, tarp
• Fire extinguisher (ABC rated)
• Jumper cables
• Pencils/pens writing paper
• Wristwatch
• Roll of quarters
• Toilet paper

Until next time, be ready

If they only stocked nicotine patches!

It just goes to show cigarette companies have got a lot to answer for. Adam Garland and Michael Queener are inmates of a Tennessee prison but they are also chain smokers. So it was  no surprise that one night they escaped through a window in their cell, crawled under a fence, robbed a convenience store taking cigarettes and tobacco products and then returned to their cell. The escape was only realized after the haul of ciggies was found. An internal review is under way (bit late boys!).

Psst I’d damn sue the Cigarette company, it’s their friggin fault.

http://www.yourchevyguys.com (aka) MTN VIEW CHEVY in Chattanooga Tennessee says LOOK WHAT I TRADED FOR!!!!
STOCK #P3570.  A 2007 FORD ESCAPE. CHECK OUT THE VIDEO THEN CONTACT US WITH ALL YOUR QUESTIONS OR FOR MORE DETAILS. 866.803.9320 AND ALWAYS CONTACT US FOR A FREE CARFAX REPORT. 

Compassion a treasured delight,
boundless in scale and generosity,
heart flowering in applied bhakti,
my path from darkness to light,
and what aids my real education in evolution,
the engaged remembering–
noting dark dreams of poverty,
paying attention to hurt imagined,
with such recall strengthens awakening reality.

I dream a confession of repulsion,
striving for compassion i ache in hatred,
and i wish heart opening apply in me,
so harsh judgment be damned–
let me stay fixed upon joy,
golden treasure suffuse my existence.

Compassion overcome my smallness,
make vulnerable my sore tenderness,
and relax this choke-hold upon understanding–
beloved let no destitute escape be mine,
grant me your strength to love,
i long for peace.