First Official Sex And City 2 Image

Sarah Jessica Parker regrets being part of ‘SATC’ sequel

‘Entourage’ movie a possibility

Help bring Kathy Griffin to NYC – GET D-LISTED PRESS RELEASE

more info:
http://www.onlocationvacations.com/2009/12/03/help-bring-kathy-griffin-to-nyc/

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=195456973394&ref=mf

Neal B in NYC and On Location Tours are on a mission to get Kathy Griffin back on the D-List. As Kathy creeps closer to the A-List, Neal B and OLT are inviting her aboard Sex & the City Hotspots Tour to bring her back down to her D-List roots. On Friday December 11, 2009, they will be making a video to send to Kathy’s people.Anyone who would like to show support is welcome to join them! To make it even more irresistible, a donation will be set up to help LBGTQ organization Broadway Speaks OUT. You can pledge now and your donation will only be collected when Kathy Griffin visits. You can find more information on the Kathy Griffin DlistedNYC Facebook page.

On Location Tours also has the perfect gift for the movie fan in your life! You can now purchase gift certificates for their New York TV & Movie Tour, Sex & the City Hotspots Tour, Gossip Girl Sites Tour, Sopranos Sites Tour, and Central Park Walking Tour.

From rPulse.com:

Meredith Baxter said, “To come out and disclose stuff is very antithetical to who I am.” I sure hope you’re proud of yourself Mario.

Every gay person believes it is their own choice and decision about coming out.

Every gay person except Mario Lavandeira aka Perez Hilton who claims he is gay, and yet he lacks compassion for other gays who he publicly bashes into coming out.

Meredith Baxter, who starred on the successful television series “Family Ties” became Mario’s target on Tuesday of this week when he posted photos of Meredith with her girlfriend Nancy.

This is nothing new for Mario, he forced Neil Patrick Harris and Lance Bass to out themselves as well.

nd now Meredith was forced to publicly announced her sexuality because the rag-gossip media cannot be controlled, yet.

“I am a lesbian and it was a later-in-life recognition,” she told Matt Lauer on TODAY.  “Some people would say, well, you’re living a lie and, you know, the truth is – not at all.  This has only been for the past seven years.”

Meredith who is 62, was not ready to do this, and yet was forced because of the public tabloid chatter.   “I’ve always lived a very private life,” said the actress, who’s never even had a publicist.

“I did not want some tabloid to take the story and make it up — I wanted it to be in my own words,” she told Lauer.

Meredith has now had to explain her relationship with men, which says was complicated and took her decades to understand why.

In 1966 she married her first husband, Robert Lewis Bush, and they divorced five years later; she married her second husband David Birney in 1974, and they divorced in 1989; she married her third husband, Michael Blodgett, in 1995, and they divorced in 2000.

She explained that she deliberately chose to be with men with whom she clashed, so that she could blame them for the end of the relationship.“It never occurred to me to think, oh, [the problem is] me,”she said.

Then, seven years ago, she had a relationship with a woman and concluded that she was homosexual.  Suddenly, things seemed to make sense.

“I got involved with someone I never expected to get involved with, and it was that kind of awakening,” she said. “I never fought it because it was like, oh, I understand why I had the issues I had early in life. I had a great deal of difficulty connecting with men in relationships.”

Meredith has been with her girlfriend, Nancy, a contractor who she met through mutual friends, for the past four years.  Because Nancy is openly lesbian, their relationship has not been kept a closely guarded secret.

“I had to reach a level of comfort because it wasn’t fair to push her back into secrecy,” she said. “We live very out lives in Los Angeles.”

When “Family Ties” ended, Meredith went on to direct and star in several TV movies, winning a daytime Emmy award in 1993 for portraying a lesbian mom in the CBS School Break Special, “Other Mothers.”

These days, she’s taken on a few roles, including promoting her skin care line,Meredith Baxter Simple Works.

She is also a public speaker and advocate, traveling the country discussing her personal battles with breast cancer and alcoholism.

Now that she is coming out, she also sees herself as an advocate for gay rights.

“This is a political act, even though that’s not what it feels like to me,” she said. “If anyone knows someone who’s gay or lesbian … they’re less likely to vote against them to take away their rights. I can be that lesbian you know now…”

From Yahoo.com:

NEW YORK, New York — Former “Family Ties” star Meredith Baxter has revealed she is gay.

Meredith, who starred as Michael J. Fox’s mother on the hit ’80s television show, confirmed the news to Matt Lauer on Wednesday’s “Today.”

I guess I wanted to… say that I’m a lesbian,” Meredith revealed on the NBC morning program. “It was a later-in-life recognition of that fact.”

Meredith, 62, has been living life as a lesbian for seven years and confirmed to Matt that she has been involved in a relationship for four years with contractor Nancy Locke. But it was only after becoming involved with another woman that Meredith realized why her three marriages to men didn’t work out.

I got involved with someone I never expected to get involved with and it was that kind of awakening and I never fought it because it was like, ‘Oh! I understand why I had the issues I had early in my life,’” Meredith said. “I had a great deal of difficulty connecting with men in relationships… Sometimes, I assumed I was a bad picker, which I was indeed, but I also was involved with people who made me think, ‘Oh, they’re the problem,’ because there were problems with the people I chose. It never occurred to me to think, ‘Oh, it’s me.’”

Meredith told Matt that sharing the news of her sexuality with her children, who range in age 25-42, was a lot easier than she expected.

The actress also revealed that her television family co-stars are aware she is gay.

“All my pals in ‘Family Ties’ know,” she said. “They all knew [when we had a reunion on 'Today' two years ago]. We all had dinners together and [TV husband], Michael Gross and his wife and Nancy and I go out, we’ve gone out many times. It’s all OK.”

Meredith said she and Nancy “live very out lives in Los Angeles” and the actress even went on a cruise with 1,200 lesbians not too long ago. But as for why she is speaking out now, Meredith said, in part, it was to share her story in her own words before a tabloid could put their spin on her life.

From: http://www.chinadaily.com

The idea was simple: Set up a bar to attract gay men and then use it to distribute information on AIDS/HIV prevention.

The media loved the idea – but all the attention kept the gay men away.

“They (gay men) refused to show up at the opening for fear of media exposure and potential discrimination,” said Zhang Jianbo, the bar’s founder and a local AIDS doctor in Dali, Yunnan province.

The bar, partially funded by the Dali Health Bureau in collaboration with two local anti-AIDS NGOs that Zhang heads, was meant to facilitate outreach efforts targeting groups facing a high HIV risk, particularly gay men.

Its opening was set for yesterday, World AIDS Day.

Zhang said intense media attention surprised him a lot.

“Had I known it, I would not have told the media,” he said.

Though there are gay bars in major cities in China, which experts estimate has 30 million homosexuals, including 20 million gay men, the one in Dali was dubbed “China’s first government-funded bar for AIDS control” and instantly got widespread media coverage.

“It’s understandable,” said Luke Zhao, executive editor of Beijing-based Gay Spot magazine. “Factors like government endorsement and support, gay men, HIV/AIDS, naturally made the gay bar so attractive to the press and the general public,” he told China Daily yesterday.

“As a long-term medical worker in HIV/AIDS prevention and control, I know how hard it is for us to reach these groups to promote self-protection messages like safe sex,” Zhang said.

He managed to establish contacts with more than 1,500 local gay men.

“To sustain and build more of that, I thought of opening a bar for regular get-togethers with them,” Zhang said.

“We could teach them about HIV/AIDS and how to protect themselves from it,” he said.

Now no one knows what will happen to a bar with no visitors or even a name.

“But it is at least a good signal that the government is beginning to pay attention to gay people as a vulnerable group facing HIV/AIDS and their health,” Zhao said.

The HIV/AIDS prevalence among gay men averages 6 percent in the country and same-sex transmission accounted for about one-third of new HIV infections last year, official tallies showed.

       When I consider the many times I narrowly escaped from the enemy, I must have been crazy to have volunteered. I lived and worked surrounded by the Germans, and had many close calls, so I had taken many chances, as if I was playing a game!  Otherwise, who knows, things might have turned out differently.

       Because of my involvement in the Cretan resistance and recommendations by the British SOE, I was chosen by the OSS, schooled and trained as a spy in Cairo.  They taught me how to assimilate with others in a strange surrounding, but also learned the Gestapo’s methods of interrogation and if needed, to take my own life with a cyanide capsule.  I played the game so well disguised as a Salonica businessman, serenading the neighborhood girls with my accordion, that no one ever suspected that this young man was really a corporal in the US Army and a spy in the OSS. 

       When I sent telegrams regarding troopships or convoys, I would not see their destruction and so it was not personal. Yet there are times I regret sending the telegram for our planes to bomb the Salonica train station, killing over 2,500 German soldiers, 450 Greek civilians, and the 6 American pilots captured and who knows how many airmen killed, which I personally witnessed.  But I cannot help but think how those German soldiers, readying to depart from Greece, might have killed many more thousands of our American soldiers in Italy or France, and for this, I am grateful.

From http://www.reuters.com:

FRom: http://blog.zap2it.com/frominsidethebox/2009/11/gamble-on-american-idol-sex-and-the-city-slot-machines.html

If you’re over 21, you can now play slot machines based on two of your favorite shows, “American Idol” and “Sex and the City.”

Both slots were new releases at the 2009 Global Gaming Expo in Las Vegas. In “American Idol,” slot players can trigger a bonus round that lets them become one of three judges — Simon Cowell, Kara DioGuardi or Randy Jackson — and then plays video clips of past contestants, good AND bad.

According to Sphere.com, Paula Abdul was the lone holdout participant even BEFORE she announced she was leaving the show. Innnteresting.

Meanwhile, the “Sex and the City” slot machines are subtitled “Change of a Dress.” Clever, no? They feature bonus rounds that include video clips of all four women plus Mr. Big.

International Game Technology spokeswoman Julie Brown told Sphere, “There’s shoes and purses and lots of bling and big bonuses and the music track, and it’s a very interactive game.”

Speaking of Mr. Big, Chris Noth helped unveil the “Sex and the City” slot machine in Las Vegas. Video below.

El sabado pasado en mi clase de ingles comenzamos a hablar de esas peliculas de comedia media loca gringas en las que todo es pura idiotez, a todos en la clase nos gustan ese tipo de peliculas, tal como loca academia de pilotos 1 y 2 , la saga de ¿y donde esta el policia ? , y donde esta el piloto? , en todas coincidimos pero yo mencione una de hace mucho tiempo , llamada supersecreto, de las primeras peliculas de val kilmer , y nadie mas la habia visto , despues les platique a los miembros de este blog y parece que nadie la ha visto tampoco , es por eso que me di a la tarea de conseguir algunos cortos en el youtiube , espero les guste , si no…. pues vayanse al mergo !

KATHY GRIFFIN D-LISTED CONTEST

Facebook: Kathy Griffin DlistedNyc

GET d-listed!!

If you LOVE Kathy Griffin and love “Sex and the City” this one is for you! NealBinNYC (www.nealbinnyc.wordpress.com) and On Location Tours (www.screentours.com) are looking to see who the BIGGEST KATHY GRIFFIN FAN is out there! We are looking to see who can upload the MOST CREATIVE KATHY GRIFFIN FAN VIDEO.  Yes, it can be outrageous, -but it has to be FACEBOOK appropriate!

One grand prize WINNER will live life on the D-LIST!  The winner will receive TWO FREE TICKETS for the Official Sex and the City Hotspot Tour (http://www.screentours.com/tour.php/satc/) and have their video appear on a DVD we are sending to Kathy G. and her people!  The tour of Sex and the City Hotspots includes more than 40 locations from the hit TV show and movie!  See where Carrie and Co. live, shop, drink and dine.  Locations include Magnolia Bakery, Charlotte’s art gallery, and the bar owned by Aidan and Steve in the show.

To enter you must be in the New York City area and also have Facebook to be eligible.

Contest directions:

NealBinNYC (www.nealbinnyc.wordpress.com) and On Location Tours (www.screentours.com) are looking to see who the BIGGEST KATHY GRIFFIN FAN is out there!

We are looking to see who can create the MOST CREATIVE KATHY GRIFFIN FAN VIDEO.  Yes, it can be outrageous, -but it has to be FACEBOOK appropriate!

On your Facebook page, please upload any original videos (you can enter as many as you like) explaining why you’re the ultimate Kathy Griffin Fan and why she belongs back on the D-list in New York City!  Tag “Kathy Griffin DlistedNyc” in your videos.   The winner will be judged on who has the most creative video.   The judges will be staff members from On Location Tours as well as Neal B.

The contest will ends MONDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2009 at 8:00 pm EST.  The winner will be contacted that night no later than 9:00 pm via their Facebook e-mail and also the winner will be announced on the Kathy Griffin DlistedNyc  Facebook page.

D-LIST IT UP!

I can officially announce that soon we will be announcing something very exciting.

ok, you probably already know but for those that don’t…..you will soon….probably

From www.viewonfashion.com:

11/24/09 - While filming the long-awaited film Sex and the City 2, actress Kim Cattrall and SATC designer/stylist Patricia Field found the time to collaborate on the new edition of Bailey´s Red Bow…

SEX AND THE…
Red Bow

While filming the long-awaited film Sex and the City 2, actress Kim Cattrall and SATC designer/stylist Patricia Field found the time to collaborate on the new edition of Bailey´s Red Bow…

Associated Press
HONOLULU — A former B-2 stealth bomber engineer accused of spying for China suffers from narcissistic personality disorder, expert witnesses for the prosecution and the defense testified in federal court Thursday.

But the forensic psychologists who evaluated Noshir Gowadia of Maui disagreed during the hearing over whether he is competent to stand trial and assist in his defense.

Gowadia, who worked for years on highly classified military systems, has been held without bail since his 2005 arrest on suspicion of selling cruise missile secrets. He has pleaded not guilty to 21 counts of conspiracy, money-laundering and falsifying tax returns.

The charges against Gowadia also assert that he offered to sell classified stealth technology to foreign business people in Israel, Germany and Switzerland.

With Gowadia seated in white prison overalls alongside his attorneys, prosecution witness Lisa Hope testified Thursday that she and a postdoctoral psychology intern evaluated the defendant at a federal prison in Los Angeles last spring.

More…

Okay, so ya’ll were pretty much on to me in the poll about my Top Secret Cross Training Exercise.  (I’d surely like to know which one of you voted for “Other” and typed in “12 oz. curls after a run!”  Confessions, anyone?)

So you guessed it.  My cross-training exercise of choice is:  Tap Dancing.  This is only mildly remarkable because I hadn’t danced in a group/team/class since high school.  And I’d only even put on tap shoes a couple times in my adult life.  I would have had better chances at success being a hockey player or a nuclear scientist.

But I thought I’d give it a whirl since my little princess is The Dancing Queen and my darling ninja has decided to take dancing lessons to make her a Better Hockey Player.

Photo Credit

So I see this sign:  Beginning Adult Tap Lessons–Try It!  And I think:  how hard can it be?  After all, I’m an athlete, a runner.  I signed up for the class, thinking it would be fun, but wouldn’t really qualify for anything mildly aerobic. 

Imagine my surprise when I learned that there were very few times that tap dancers actually ever stopped moving.  Think of it as the equivalent of jumping rope for 45 minutes while trying to learn new ways to move your feet, remember these ways in varying patterns, have each move of your toe or heel make a particular noise at a particular moment,  figure out how not to run into the other dancers in the room (all 15 years younger than you, of course) and, if possible, to do all this while not falling down on your larger-and-older-than-the-rest-of-the-group’s fanny. 

So maybe this actually was exercise.  Yes, definitely. 

Way different than running.  Which is, for me, essentially a solo endeavor and in which the tricky footwork consists of exactly two moves:  thump, thump.  And the biggest challenge consists of willing yourself to go farther or faster. 

So the tap dancing thing has been a welcome way for me to get that aerobic exercise without pounding on my old joints once a week.  It’s given me a chance to focus my mind a different way than I’m used to, which is a welcome brain-stretch.  It’s given me a chance to educate some whipper-snappers in the reality that indeed, Thriller and Bust-A-Move were, not that long ago, songs that real people danced to, not just some funky retro music.  And it’s given me yet another opportunity to laugh at myself, because truly–I’m quite a sight to behold, let me tell you. 

And just today, another thought occurred to me.  Happy Feet.  Oh, yes.  It makes total sense that I would love tap dancing, since I am a penguin. 

One of my running heroes, John Bingham, refers to himself as “The Penguin.”  He refers to a time in his early running career where he envisioned himself as a swift and beautiful, muscular animal, running mightily, at which time he passed by a storefront and saw his reflection in the plate glass, where he saw something closer to:  a penguin.  Are you a Penguin?  Click this link to find out:  You Might Be a Penguin If…

How does this penguin business relate to tap dancing? 

Of course, this runner would love tap dancing.  This runner is a penguin.  And in both persuits, my feet are truly happy.

The true story of the secret space program. 1917-Present.

It was EXECUTIVE MEMORANDUM, NSC 5401/1 that created MJ-12.

The Nazi crafts produced a force field around them which reduced their inertia 99.999% allowing them to do their incredible feats. As a result, these crafts could not be used as a weapon because standard projectiles could not penetrate the force field. It wasn’t until long after the war was over, that laser technology was invented allowing the crafts to become formidable weapons.

In the late 60’s the US government was kicked off the moon and prevented from leaving orbit of this planet because they tried to set up weapon systems on the moon during the first Apollo mission.

The crafts used for Mil-abs ops contain a joint crew of both human military personnel along with cloned greys.

Disclaimer: Some of the images are a recreation, but the narration is accurate to the best of my knowledge.

Sources include:

“Space Gate, The Veil Removed – Phoenix Journal 3 – by Gyeorgos Ceres Hatonn” http://www.fourwinds10.com/journals/h…

“Classified Advanced Antigravity Aerospace Craft, Dr. Boylan”
http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/cie…

Well, here it is.  Some of you have figured this out.  Although you probably didn’t realize you’d figured it out.  Unless you did.  Anyway, here is The Big Announcement:

Late last week, I actually registered, registered, for my Very First Marathon. 

YIKES!  I, quite frankly, am freaking out.  Which explains why this is such a Big Announcement.

Yes, I know I’ve said I was training for a marathon here before.  But training for something doesn’t actually mean that you’re going to do it. 

But now, thanks to that Dotty, I’m registered.  I’m definitely going.  The only thing is…I’m definitely NOT ready for this.  Yikes again. 

Truthfully, I doubt many people are fully ready for their first marathon fourteen weeks before the race.  WHAT?!  Only 14 weeks?  I just looked that up in order to type it here and a new wave of panic has set in.  Fourteen weeks?! 

Okay, now this is all going to be Just Fine.  I am following a Very Good Training Program designed for adult-onset runners like myself to be able to complete 26.2 miles (*gulp*) on their feet and hopefully without need for medical attention.

Since I’ve been in my late teens and 20’s running a marathon has been a dream of mine.  Thinking of it now, if I’d spent less time in the recreational activities I selected at the U of I and more time actually pursuing this 26.2 ambition then, it would have been just a TAD bit easier. 

But why look back?  I am certainly wiser now.  And if you look at the fields of marathon/half-marathon/10k/ultra races, you’ll find that the 40-45 female age range (lovingly refered to as Master Female in lots of races; translation: old lady) usually is MORE full than the teens, 20’s and 30’s groups. 

Personally, I think this phenomenon occurs because this is the time of life when many women’s bodies rebel and start doing things that any normal woman wouldn’t imagine.  I mean, we’d heard about all this stuff, but who paid attention?  We were far too busy with the events of the day to worry about that time far, far, far off in the future when we would become a virtual hormonal time bomb.  I’ve got another post planned for the lovely perimenopausal/menopausal bliss that many of us have had the privilege of encountering, so stay tuned for that sometime soon.  For now, though, just know I’ve thought This Matter through carefully and determined that This Matter is exactly why the women in this age range turn to running. 

That being said, I’m sure that there will be many women my age and maybe even in a similar state of health (or lack thereof) who are running this marathon.   That gives me some encouragement.  Not enough, but some.

The race is the 26.2 with Donna The National Marathon to Finish Breast Cancer, on February 21st.  It’s a race with a great and important cause.  I’m planning on getting some pink ribbon and running with the names of survivors and in memoria of those that died of breast cancer.  I’m hoping to get lots of names and have lots of ribbons!  Please send me names of anyone who you would like me to run for.  I’m a rookie, but then, I’d still like to honor you or your loved one. 

I’m not raising money for this cause, although I might do that at some point in the future.  I’m feeling enough pressure just thinking about finishing the race!  Right now, I just really want to honor people who’ve gone through this disease. 

I’m planning on posting my progress here, for all who are interested.  Thanks in advance for your encouragement.  I’m really going to need it, since I’m still convincing myself that I’m an athlete. 

Here’s a picture of last year’s medal.  Isn’t it awesome?  I’m planning on wearing mine at least through my birthday.  (April 4th)   It’s a really Big Deal to me.  Thanks for sharing the journey. 

Photo Credit

wired.com
Valerie Plame Wilson cannot publicize details of her work as a CIA operative, even though a government official already outed her as an agent in an attempt to discredit her husband, Joseph C. Wilson, a federal appeals court says.

Plame Wilson, who served as chief of the unit responsible for weapons proliferation issues related to Iraq, argued that confidentiality agreements she signed to win her employment more than two decades ago should be nullified. The CIA has prohibited her from discussing her pre-2002 employment in her 2007 memoir, Fair Game: My Life as a Spy, My Betrayal by the White House.

She maintained the confidentiality agreement should be set aside because Vice President Dick Cheney’s chief of staff, I. Lewis Libby, and others leaked to syndicated columnist Robert Novak that she was an agent. Also, as part of a battle to obtain retirement benefits, her 20-year-employment status became part of the congressional record.

Given that she has been revealed as a operative, the First Amendment allows her to sidestep her confidentiality agreement, she argued.

More…

abc.net.au

South American neighbours Chile and Peru are embroiled in a serious diplomatic row following a Peruvian court’s arrest order for two Chilean military officers for allegedly spying.

Peru is seeking the extradition of the two Chilean military officers and has opened an official inquiry into the matter.

The two officers were allegedly in league with a Peruvian Air Force officer who has been charged with revealing state secrets, espionage and money laundering.

Peruvian president Alan Garcia cancelled talks with his Chilean counterpart Michelle Bachelet at the APEC summit in Singapore to return to Peru early for a briefing on the scandal.

More…

W październiku 2002 roku Aleksy Uchański i Marcin Przasnyski wraz z grupą zapalonych redaktorów (m.in. Dariusz J. Michalski, Michał Nowakowski, Tadeusz Zieliński, Krzysztof Papliński czy Jakub Kowalski) reaktywowali pierwsze polskie czasopismo o grach. Ich cel nakreślony we wstępniaku był jasny: przywrócić wiarę w dobre teksty, przypomnieć na czym polega radość z inteligentnej lektury.

Wydawcą pisma został Axel Springer Polska (znany polskim graczom m.in. z takich tytułów jak Play czy Komputer Świat GRY).

W pierwszym odnowionym Top Secret mogliśmy przeczytać łącznie piętnaście recenzji  takich tytułów jak m.in. Aliens vs Predator 2: Primal Hunt, Age of Wonders II, Beach Life, Disciples 2, MotoGP czy Zanzarah: The Hidden Portal. Oczywiście nie obyło się też bez recenzji wielkiego hitu tamtych czasów, gry pt. Nina Kroniki Agenta: Tunele Afganistanu .

Redaktorzy TS’a donosili w obszernych tekstach o nadchodzących hiciorach: Counter Strike: Condition Zero, Hitman 2, Icewind DAle 2, Neverwinter Nights czy No One Lives Forever 2.

Jednym z hitów numeru był ośmiostronicowy poradnik do Warcraft III (co ciekawe: w spisie treści podano zły numer strony) przygotowany przez Dariusza Michalskiego.

Nowością w tego typu czasopismach (tj. poświęconym grom na PC) był dział Tapeta, jak pisali redaktorzy: Coś dla oka. Nowe gry chwalą się piękną grafiką. Tutaj podziwiamy najlepsze z nich. I przyznać trzeba, że był to dział niezwykle efektowny. Szerokie ujęcia m.in. z trzeciego Dooma mogły przyśnić się  po nocach, a i zmęczeni gracze uciskiem szkoły/pracy czasem po prostu wolą zawiesić oko na jakiejś ładnej grafice w dużej rozdzielczości.

Inne działy nowego TS’a to News, Tipsy, WWW, Techno, Forum, Tylor (…humorystycznie) i dobra publicystyka zamieszczona w Varii i słowie od Martineza.

Całość kosztowała 15zł, a poza tekstami nie brakło też dwóch płyt CD (na jednej z nich pełna wersja kultowego Thiefa).

a

Kilka zrzutów z niniejszego numeru:

Take a guess.  What do you think my Top Secret Cross Training Exercise is?  I’ll leave this poll open for a few days and then I’ll let you know The Rest of the Story early in week.  Until then, a Mystery!  Happy voting. 

NOTE: This post will replace this week’s Show and Tell Wednesday. We are sorry for the inconvienence and we will return next week. Enjoy!

Ok, We all know that the historical dolls in the American Girl collection are supposed to be like role model girls from the past. But who ever knew they would actually appear in a real, school history book! Ok, so it’s not like their life story or anything actually printed about the dolls can be found, but their certainly is a sighting! Can you find her?

The Samantha Parkington doll can be found in the bottom picture with her sailing outfit. Here is another photo which allows you to get a better look. I’m sorry, it is a little blurry!

Samantha is on the left!

Here is Samanthie. I know it is very blurry, but I promise you it is her. My eyes see a LOT clearer than this camera.

Samantha’s Sailor Outfit (I think that is what it’s called?)

Anyway, this page was talking about toys from the past and Samantha wound up in the “90’s” box. So, she’s not really listed as an “old toy.” But soon enough, the years will fly by, and American Girl dolls might be listed as “a famous doll and book line very popular back in the 200o’s!” Heehee!

IF YOU HAVE SEEN AN AMERICAN GIRL DOLL SIGHTING IN A PUBLIC PLACE THAT WOULD BE FUN TO SHARE, PLEASE TELL US! (No, little girls with AG dolls do not count.) SEND IT TO:
madelineward17@yahoo.com

By Jason Brooks

Anshu Parminder stared at the littered table in front of him. Dozens of pieces of paper, books, pens and his laptop clogged up his immediate space and reminded him that he had a lot of work left to do. His sermon for the small house church he pastored was nowhere near ready; tomorrow night’s meeting would be a short one indeed if he couldn’t pull his thoughts together more coherently.

“Dear Lord,” he muttered. “Why do I do this?”

He tapped away at his laptop, uninspired, trying to get his creative juices flowing. But there just wasn’t much he could think to say about God’s power and provision in the wake of the federal jihad declared against his faith. Anshu, frustrated, banged his keyboard with his fists, sending a litany of unintelligible nonsense skittering across his monitor.

“Better than what I had,” he chuckled.

He went to delete the gibberish, but something in the middle caught his eye. There, the midst of a string of random letters, numbers and signs, was a solitary word. Anshu couldn’t believe it; the probability of the event was beyond comprehension, but there, plain as day, was the word pray. Spelled out perfectly, nestled in the midst of his annoyed outburst.

“A thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters, given infinity, would eventually produce the collected works of Shakespeare,” he said to himself.

He looked at the word again. Anshu stood from his desk and walked into his bedroom. He closed the door behind him to eliminate distraction, and he fell on his knees.

The roar of the jet engine drowned out the chance for a real conversation, Lucas thought. Harnessed tight into the jump seat on the deck of the stripped-down Gulfstream g650, he looked at the others from his unit. Solomon was seated directly in front of him; Carlson, Solomon’s handpicked bodyguard was seated next to Solomon. A gentleman who went only by the name Aristotle was in the row beside Lucas; from what Lucas understood, Aristotle was there to make sure the proceedings met the requirements for legality.

Lucas laughed. Given what he’d been able to read in his dossier, legality was one hell of a punch line.

Lucas’ seatmate was a Navy SEAL, brought in as the other half of the unit’s muscle. Tall and leanly built, Wheaton embodied the SEAL ethic. She was also quite funny.

Lucas leaned over. “What’s going to happen again?” he yelled.

“LALO,” she replied.

“And that means…?” he yelled back.

“Low Altitude Low Opening airborne maneuver. Basically,” she yelled, “we’re going to throw your ass out of this plane, and you’re parachute will open just before you splatter all over God’s green earth.”

“How will I know when to open it?” Lucas asked.

“You won’t. The plane does all the work for you.”

“What happens if something goes wrong?”

Wheaton looked forward and smiled. Lucas’ stomach exploded with acid.

From the forward part of the plane’s cabin, a small LED went green. Solomon unbuckled himself and stood, motioning for the rest of the unit to do the same. Following Wheaton’s lead, Lucas trudged his way to the front of the cabin where Solomon showed him and Aristotle how to connect to secure bar.

Another LED went amber and the noise in the cabin increased.

“What the hell?” Lucas screamed at Solomon.

“Cabin de-pressurization,” he yelled back.

“Do we have to do that?” Lucas asked.

“Got to or the plane will crash when we open the door to jump.”

Carlson wrenched the handle on the Gulfstream’s door and pulled it inside and into the open position. The big soldier looked back at Solomon, who gave a thumbs-up. Carlson disappeared out the door.

Wheaton followed immediately afterward. Solomon moved to the door and looked back at Aristotle and Lucas. He waved and fell backwards out of the plane.

Aristotle froze. Lucas could see out the door now, and was astonished at how fast the terrain beneath was rushing by. He looked at the Tribunal judge, whose face was pale behind his jump mask. Lucas could tell he wasn’t going to move, so he nudged the man with his arm.

Aristotle didn’t budge.

Lucas tried calculating how far away from the rest of the unit were by now, and he decided they couldn’t wait. Taking a step back, he threw himself forward into Aristotle’s body and the two fell into the open air.

Immediately, their parachutes became tangled from the automatic opening. Lucas could hear the rush of their descent coupled with Aristotle’s screams of pure terror. Even though they had been briefly trained for this, neither was truly prepared. Lucas struggled to find his release pull, hoping to disengage his primary chute. He found it and gave it a hard tug.

Aristotle’s parachute ripped away, and Lucas was jerked backwards, away from the man. He could see Aristotle fumbling for his secondary chute, and when the judge finally got it open, he rocketed upward, out of Lucas’ sight.

Lucas could see the ground rushing towards him: a thick canopy of trees next to a dark blue lake. He couldn’t find his release pull; there was a mass of serpentine cords running all across his body, confusing his eyes, making it impossible to sort them out.

Finally, Lucas just gave up. He quit struggling, closed his eyes, and stretched his arms out at his sides. The alternating pull of the two parachutes entwined with him disoriented him, and hoped only to die on impact.

Expecting to see his life flash before his eyes, Lucas got nothing. No childhood images, no adult memories; just a discomforting blackness followed by a collision with what had to be cement.

The world went black.

Solomon watched as the reporter hit the lake. There was a slight wind blowing, which made for a disrupted surface; Solomon hoped that bit of luck would help Lucas survive. He could see that Wheaton had already discarded her gear and dove into the water; she was halfway to the impact zone before Solomon had even gotten his parachute off.

Carlson entered the water, so Solomon decided it would be better for him to try and find Aristotle. The Tribunal judge had landed on the same side of the lake; a quick hike through the trees would allow Solomon to have all of his team located, if not in one piece. Wheaton and Carlson would be able to handle the situation with Lucas, and if they needed him, they each had their communication links.

Solomon disappeared into forest growth in front of him at a fast clip. He struggled to maintain his bearing, having lost the major landmarks he’d used to estimate Aristotle’s landing site. But, just a few hundred yards in, his com-link screeched to life.

“This is Aristotle,” the radio squawked. “Anyone out there?”

“Solomon, here. Where are you judge?”

“I don’t know.”

Solomon broke into a trot. “Can you see the lake from where you are?”

“Yes, I seem to be on the shore of it. There are a lot of reeds and cattails. But I don’t see anyone else.”

Solomon bore to his left; he had been heading away from the lake based on what he’d seen. That Aristotle was on the shoreline was puzzling.

“Judge, on your belt is a small GPS locator. If you’ll flip the switch, I can power up my unit and come right to you.”

“Okay. I’ll try that.”

Solomon looked at his smart phone. The GPS navigation program was open and within seconds a small red dot appeared on the map. Solomon sighed. He was less than three hundred yards away from the Tribunal member.

“I’ve got you judge. Just stay put.”

“What about the rest of the team?” Aristotle asked.

“I worry about them, not you. I’m on my way.”

Solomon escalated his trot into a full fledged run, hurtling himself breakneck through the unfamiliar forest. A couple of times his foot caught on a rock or root, causing him to lose his balance, but it wasn’t until he was within sight of Aristotle that he fell.

Pitching headfirst into the dirt, Solomon felt the sharp sting of rock against his temple. Cursing his clumsiness, Solomon stood and put a hand to his head; the blood flowed steadily and his temple throbbed from the impact. Aristotle came to his side, winded.

“I saw you go down,” the judge panted. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Solomon replied. “Just a little nick. How are you doing?”

Aristotle raised a hand. Solomon could tell he was winded.

“You know what, judge? Don’t worry about answering that. I’m just happy you’re alive.”

A static-filled transmission burst in his headset. He pulled the earpiece from his ear and shook his head. Reinserting it, he could hear Carlson’s voice.

“…ing well. He’s bruised up pretty good, but he’ll live.”

“Come again?” Solomon asked.

“Sir, yes sir. I said that Somerhalder is doing well. He’s bruised up, but should be fine.”

“What the hell happened up there?” Solomon demanded.

“Best I can tell, he and Aristotle got tangled up off the jump. Lucas managed to get the judge’s chute to release, but couldn’t do so himself.”

“So he hit the water a full speed?”

“No sir. There was a bit of drag from the two tangled chutes, and he actually did a smart thing by relaxing and spreading out his arms. My guess is he had enough resistance to slow his momentum, and the water being disturbed by the wind gave him soft water to land in.”

Solomon rubbed his temple again. The blood was slowing down. So was the adrenaline; his headache got worse.

“So the bastard got lucky?” Solomon asked.

“Once-in-a-lifetime lucky, sir.”

“Well, let’s hope the luck sticks,” Solomon said. He turned to Aristotle and motioned for him to follow. The two made their way around the lake’s perimeter towards the rest of the team.

Anshu stood. He had been on his knees for over forty minutes, silent and still in the exercise of prayer. He felt as if he accomplished much with his obedience to God’s skillful little message; just what that accomplishment might be he had no idea, but the burden to pray had left him, and he felt he could return to his sermon.

Opening the door to his bedroom, he could see the sunlight streaming in through the window’s in the hall. It was a glorious day outside. Anshu stood there a minute, staring out at the glory of the scenery: the trees were fully stocked with leaves, and the fresh mid-western air fairly sparkled as their branches stirred with the wind.

Anshu walked to the window to get a better view of the lake. It was a dark blue, and he could see that the rippled water meant the wind was doing more than gently blowing. He smiled.

“God, your works are wonderful,” he said.

He stepped away from his window and headed back to the kitchen table, back to his papers, pens and laptop, back to his sermon, for which he had renewed passion. As he stepped away, five figures darted from the trees across the street from his house, into a waiting van. One of the figures was carried by two others.

Solomon, seated in the van’s passenger seat, typed out a quick TSMS message to the President: Jump successful. Target acquired. Parminder’s HC will be done by tonight. Solomon hit send and turned his attention to Lucas, in the care of Wheaton and Aristotle. Satisfied that the reporter was fine, he turned to Carlson behind the wheel.

“Let’s go.”

Anshu noticed the van drive by from his seat at the table. His curiosity was piqued by the vehicle’s passing, but he gave it no further thought. Instead, he turned his laptop on and began to type about the power and providence of God.

By Jason Brooks

The West Wing of the White House wasn’t exactly what the movies made it out to be, Lucas thought. Elegant but very small, it needed something; a skylight, maybe. But the thought of someone attempting to use the skylight to attack the President gave Lucas a shiver. He was seated just outside the Oval Office in a comfortable chair made uncomfortable by the Secret Service agents flanking him. The same pair from his office just a few hours earlier, Lucas still didn’t know their names, which was a shame because they had become quite intimate.

The two agents had thoroughly strip-searched him when their motorcade arrived at the White House. Then they escorted him to the bathroom, and stood by while he used the urinal.

“Uh, fellas? Can I get a little privacy?” he’d asked.

Neither responded. Lucas went. On his way to the door, the taller one said, “Don’t forget to wash your hands.”

The chair sat on a carpet embroidered with the presidential seal. Next to it was a side table with ornate legs, intricately carved and designed. According to a plaque on the table’s far edge, it was a gift from the last emperor of China to Woodrow Wilson on his election to the presidency in 1912. Lucas marveled at the one-hundred-plus-year history of the piece.

“That’s a long time for a table to last, especially around here,” a voice said.

Lucas looked up. It was the President. Lucas leapt to his feet, attempting a salute, then deciding to offer his hand to shake, and then just putting both hands limp at his side.

The President laughed. “That’s not the most awkward greeting I’ve ever gotten, but it’s close.” He stuck out a tanned hand.

“Guess it’s not everyday you get to shake the hand of the most powerful homosexual in the world.”

Lucas took the hand; it was firm, with a solid grip that didn’t overpower. Somehow the exchange was comforting. Lucas dropped the hand and smiled.

“I guess I should be relived you shook my hand and not my neck.”

The President laughed. “Thought about it. But as you well know, my staff doesn’t do the best job on cover-ups. Let’s head into the office, shall we?”

He stepped to the side and gestured towards the hidden door to the Oval Office. Lucas followed the extended arm and entered into the room with the Resolute desk. Everything was pretty much the way he’d seen it pictured, except for the size. Again, it was smaller than it appeared on TV.

The cream colored couches facing the President’s desk were arranged in a small sitting area, including a coffee table loaded with drinks and snacks. Lucas could tell that this was a formal meeting disguised as an informal chat. A man with whom Lucas was unfamiliar sat on one of the couches, his left leg bouncing with impatience. He seemed a mixture of anger and resolve, especially with the thick dossier on his lap.

Lucas sat on the other couch, across from the stranger.

“Lucas,” the President said, “meet Solomon Curry. Solomon, Lucas Somerhalder.” The President motioned for the pair to shake.

Solomon sneered. “I know who you are.”

“Really? That’s fascinating because I have no idea who the hell you are,” Lucas replied.

The President sat down at his desk. Lucas and Solomon followed suit.

“I’ve brought you together because you will be part of the same team. Solomon, I believe you have a copy of your dossier for Lucas?” the President asked.

Solomon held the dossier on his lap tighter. “I thought this information was highly classified, sir. I have reservations about handing it over to a reporter, especially one with Mr. Somerhalder’s dubious reputation.”

“As your Commander-In-Chief, I’m ordering you to give the dossier to Mr. Somerhalder, and I assure you that he has the highest security clearance from all of our agencies, plus my personal guarantee.”

The President turned to Lucas and smiled. Lucas’ face was green.

Solomon tossed the dossier onto the coffee table, knocking some of the empty glasses and snack bowls helter-skelter. Lucas picked up the leaden folder; packed with papers, meticulously color coded and tabbed, it was roughly the size of the Warren Report. Lucas said as much.

“Have you seen the Warren Report?” Solomon asked.

“The redacted version, yes,” Lucas replied. “But now that I have super-powered security clearance, I might take a new look at it. I’m sure the unedited version is more informative.”

Solomon stood. “See, Mr. President? This is what I’m talking about! This cavalier attitude and nosiness will not mix well with the assignment you’ve given me. I need men I can trust; not some glorified publicity whore peeking over my shoulder and chasing reckless leads.”

The President motioned for Solomon to sit down. Solomon did, but he was shaking all over now. Lucas knew there was more going on here than he had imagined.

“Mr. Curry, I am quite trustworthy,” Lucas said. “You can ask any of my sources over the history of my career: I’ve never ratted one out, and I never will. I take my responsibilities as a journalist quite seriously.”

“Good to know,” Solomon said, “but in this instance, you won’t be a traditional reporter. You’ll be an agent of the Central Intelligence Agency passing top secret data along secured channels to the President of the United States.”

Solomon leaned forward. “So the question isn’t whether or not you’re a good journalist; it’s whether or not you can be a good soldier and a better spy.”

The dossier weighed heavy in Lucas’ hands. The room shrank, and the two men facing him seemed to grow by comparison. Solomon, dark and angry, shaking and bouncing and radiating impatience; the President, tall and open and warm, a Gibraltar behind his desk; two men waiting for Lucas to say something, anything. Lucas swallowed.

“I don’t think I fully understand what I’m being asked to do,” he said. “Mr. President, I was told that I would be writing a personal blog for you.”

Solomon shook his head and laughed. The President leaned forward at his desk.

“Yes, Lucas, that’s exactly what you will do. You will be my eyes and ears in the field with Solomon. I’ve given him a very specific job in the fight against terrorism, and I want to be sure that the job is done right.”

The President’s eyes narrowed. “I trust your instincts; you ferreted out my secret when I felt sure it would never be discovered. I want you to apply that same determination and skill to your assessment of Solomon’s work.

“I want to know,” the President said, “that the bodies are piling up. Or if they aren’t. Do you understand, Lucas?”

Lucas looked between the two men. He locked eyes with the President, who held the gaze. His eyes were cold and unflinching; Lucas could see that the President had a very particular plan in mind for Solomon, a plan that he would not back away from. Lucas looked down at the dossier.

“Can I have some time to read this?” he asked. “I think if I can get a handle on the parameters of the mission, I can better answer your questions.”

He turned from the President to Solomon. “Both of your questions.”

The President rose and walked over the couches. He sat opposite of Lucas beside Solomon. Lucas noticed that Solomon stiffened and moved away from the President just slightly.

“Lucas,” the President said, “if I had the time to give you, I would let you have it. But this is a time-critical launch; the dossier was meant to catch you up as you go, not inform your decision on whether you would go.”

The President looked at Solomon, then leaned forward, bringing his full frame into square before Lucas’ eyes.

“In short, Lucas, you don’t have a choice. You will get your ass on the airplane with the rest of Solomon’s crew. Your equipment will be waiting on you, and you’ll find all of your necessary instructions, passwords, codes and clearances in that dossier.”

Lucas fell backward against the couch. “I’m being drafted.”

“No,” the President said, “you’ve been drafted, and it’s time to go to work.”

He stood, buttoning his silk suit jacket. The picture of style and substance, he smiled the same smile that had won him the election. Lucas felt his stomach wrench into knots at the sight.

“I’ll look forward to your first report. And Lucas,” he said, the smile becoming more ravenous, “don’t leave out any details. I want to smell every drop of blood.”

The hidden doorway to the Oval Office opened, and the President of the United States strode out, followed by a half-dozen Secret Services agents. The door closed, leaving Solomon and Lucas alone in the hallowed room.

“Welcome aboard Team Inquisition,” Solomon said. “Hope you have a strong stomach.”

Solomon stood and motioned for Lucas to do the same. Instead of going out the way the President had, Solomon instead crossed to the outer door of the Oval Office and opened it. It was only then that Lucas could hear the gigantic Sikorsky helicopter descending on the West Lawn. The door to the chopper opened and Solomon turned to Lucas.

“Into the rabbit hole?” he yelled; then he ran into the waiting chopper.

Lucas measured the dossier in his hands one last time, before looking around the White House lawn. He felt quite a bit like Alice.

And he followed Solomon down the rabbit hole.