I am half-Chinese and a half Filipino-Spanish.
I have only learnt to speak Filipino my whole life.

The best advises I have received is that there is no right or wrong,
that labels does not always help.
That no matter what, I should just go
and "Live my life", or "Sing in Full Voice, Until Then".

Attentive to a fault to the work or person at hand.
Because of routine and living demands, sometimes I
only pay attention to what is available or given to me.

Like the quest for the Spices of the East, I could no longer live the same way when the time came. I had to learn preservation and other flavors.

In a Asian Food Show, someone shares
How some later generation Chinese had to study their own native language in secret between 1966 to 1998.  
Stories of how their migrant or refugee heritage have made them scapegoats of many local tensions.
And varieties of words and ingredients also native to Chinese and later generations that lived offshore.

Many of us now in the thrash of our collective songs
towards healing and full living as humanity, continuing
refugees and wanderers in our own ways.

Where we see our indigenous-selves and our oppressor-selves,
is not as difficult as we are usually made to,
in a world of artificial
demands and surpluses.

One old song gently reminds me
in many languages singing,
as another bowl of handmade noodles
breaks open into countless random pieces:

We are only passing through earth.
Made to experience, and let go of our fears
and limitations.To gather our remains so that
it is inanimate buildings and objects that are used
by the living instead, and nothing is left behind.
To not leave a trace. To learn how to love.#

Like a character hoarding advises like jewelry
from a story like Fantastic Beasts, what do you think
what are the best life advises you have hoarded so far?

Sharing some of mine before they get stuck
in another schedule in the slaughterhouse inventory:
"Wisest is he that knows he does not know"
"Just live your life"
"Sing in Full Voice, Until Then"
"What are you doing here?"
"What is your plan?"
"Eat first"

Do not worry we have better villains
and heroes now than long time ago, I told my brother.
In turn, he made a song on a ukelele
after his little one cried and hid away the broken
CD collection of her brother. They called it together, the
"Last Supper Constellations".
His child said, "If there was a Creator. I would like to think He or She, like you or mama, would be kind. Would not that be swell?"

My brother shared with us one advise from his favorite collection,
"My friend had a family filled with orphans. Even when they could no longer afford to adopt, they continued to adopt children. I did not understand before, but I also did not forget his story." #

Sofia Vergara satisfies her post-work out sweet tooth by sipping on a protein-packed smoothie that tastes like chocolate ice cream.

The Modern Family star, who is famous for her curves, isn't a fan of exercising, so she has found a way to maximise the efficiency of her gym visits.

"I'm the first to admit that I hate wasting time in the gym," the 43-year-old tells People magazine. "I'm not one of those people who spends hours on the treadmill or takes three spin classes a day. When you work out smarter (and of course, eat healthy!), you'll love the way you look and feel, and get the most out of your sweat sessions."

The Colombian beauty has shared her top five tips with the publication to boost motivation, and her first piece of advice is to get caffeinated.

"Sip coffee on the way to the gym," she wrote. "Who doesn't love starting the day with a delicious Colombian roast? Sure, it's tasty, but it has so many benefits, too! It'll wake you up and get you energized for your workout, and it's been proven that drinking coffee (caffeinated, of course) helps your body burn more fat during exercise. Every little bit helps, right?"

Sofia also recommends recruiting a "workout buddy" to help with the exercise inspiration, insisting hitting the gym together also serves as good "bonding time", and she advises her fellow females, "Don't be scared to lift weights".

Sofia goes on to suggest tired treadmill users trade in any machines, which "get boring fast", and try something "creative".

"Dance cardio classes are my current obsession, because there's nothing better than turning up the music and just letting everything go," she explained. "But really, making cardio easier to knock out is more about finding something you really love. Whether it's surfing, biking or jumping on trampolines, do something you enjoy. When you have fun during workouts, it's a lot easier to commit to doing them - and they don't feel like work."

And finally, Sofia reminds readers to "treat yourself afterward".

The actress reveals she always looks forward to her after-gym treat, and although it's chocked full of healthy ingredients, it makes her think she's eating something yummy.

"It's tempting to go eat something that's a little unhealthy as a reward, but instead of undoing all my hard work, I treat myself to a satisfying, healthy snack," she continued. "My go-to post-workout smoothie has chocolate protein powder, almond butter, coconut water and goji berries on top - it tastes like chocolate ice cream, but has none of the guilt!"Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses

Hello, I know it's way too late but can I call you dad?
  It hits me when someone mentions your name and I feel the need of that rare hug of yours that could bring the dead back to life, ironically..
I miss you terribly, I can hear you laughing at me right while I'm writing you this, you would laugh that laugh of yours when one of your siblings make a really bad joke, or when your mother hints about how cigarettes are bad for you and that you should quit smoking. I'm sorry, I got drifted away, God I miss that awful laugh so much. Back to the point, you would make fun of this and I would hate it and you'd laugh that laugh and I would hate it, you'd keep the letter and I would hate it as much as I hate that you will never read this or laugh that laugh ever again. I miss you. Your memory is dragging me down again, I wish for a single day with you, just one day where I can tell you "I love you" for the first and last time, where I  thank you for making me the person I am. I'm trying my best to be the good girl you've always told me is hiding somewhere inside me, I don't think she's completely there anymore, just one day of brilliant random advises and lousy little talks about anything and everything that doesn't actually matter, just one more kiss upon your brow, just one last back pat or one last smile, one last hug, one last failed attempt to show you that I do love you, I swear to God that I regret nothing more than taking you for granted, nothing more than not showing you how much you mean to me or for realizing it a little bit too late. I hope you're where we pray to be, I hope God is showering you with more of what you've blessed us with, I hope you're happy, I hope you're happy, I hope you are happy. I miss you. I miss you terribly. Sometimes it feels like I don't have the right to say that I miss you out loud since I've never showed that I could when  you were here when everyone else did, so now everyone has the right to grieve for losing you and not being capable of showing it to you anymore, but they don't understand that  never saying or showing what they have can be way more horrible, and they wouldn't give me the chance to tell them that. I don't have the right to say it or to love you any more than they do, because I didn't when you were here, I'm sorry I didn't. I didn't know how to show it, you didn't teach me how to show it, teach me how to show it! Teach me all the things you didn't for thinking I wouldn't listen, I would've! I'm sorry I'm late. I know I'm late. I'm trying not to be late, always trying in everything, for you. I know it's late for that too but it helps with the guilt I guess.
I am emtionlly paralyzed by the thought of losing you forever.
I keep your advises close to my heart, I'll keep the memory of your beautiful mind and your pretty fake smile even closer and I bet these small thoughts are what will  keep me going, I'll be always proud of knowing someone like you. I shall grow on loving you even if it wouldn't do anyone any good, I shall pass the love you gave me to those whom deserve it. And those who don't, it's enough for all.
You will always have the biggest piece of my heart. Don't laugh at this, this is not a joke and it's okay not to laugh about it, I'll be embarrassed anyway, but it's okay. God bless your splendid soul.
Goodbye? Seems ironic as well. Goodbye.

Odysseus is angry without knowing what reason scared hopeless longing not a good student teachers raise suspicions Mom claims he is mentally not right in third grade parents send him to well-known psychiatrist conducts many tests finds Odysseus’s i.q. scores quite high doctor’s diagnosis is learning disabilities emotional anxiety recommends weekly appointments Odysseus continues to see various psychiatrists all the way through college in late 1950’s early '60’s psychiatric field is somewhat unreliable one downtown child’s psychiatrist chats about other patients then gives Odysseus baby ruth candy bar another psychiatrist with office in Wilmette tells him parents need therapy advises he will someday live independent of parents free of their influences

Odysseus Penelope Ryan Siciliano play in undeveloped land across from Schwartzpilgrim’s apartment building there is big tree they often climb near corner of commonwealth and surf streets Ryan is going on about his favorite actor errol flynn and movie “they died with their boots on” suddenly two bigger older boys approach bully them down from tree Odysseus does not recognize older boys from neighborhood bigger older boys push Penelope to ground then elbow trip Odysseus punch Ryan in stomach panic shoots through all three of them bigger older boys glare down with taunting eyes after terrifying moment Ryan then Odysseus jump up flee across street they hide beneath parked cars in underground garage of Odysseus’s building hearts pound in terror hearing footsteps on concrete grow louder they hold their breaths voice speaks out "they’re not here they’ve gone Odys where are you?" Odysseus and Ryan crawl out from under cars feel ashamed of their cowardice in front of Penelope and putting own self-preservation before her protection Ryan is particularly disturbed explains his family are sicilian code of conduct Ryan insists Odysseus swear never to divulge their weakness Odysseus promises later Penelope tells Mom

harper is broad-minded exceptional school housed in old english tudor building on second floor along hall is long glass cabinet displaying among other things 9 large jars each containing developing stages of fetus girls wear uniforms of navy blue skirts with knee socks white blouses blue sweaters which are school colors boys are allowed to wear blue jeans and shirts in good taste Miss Moss teaches fourth grade classroom is duplex with stairs leading up to balcony directly under stairs is secret meeting place and beneath balcony are classmate cubbyholes there is sunroom facing south overlooking entrance stairs to school where older students hang out Odysseus thinks Miss Moss is pretty wonders why she is not married she has deep blue eyes dark thick eyebrows premature graying hair she wears in bun he has crush on Miss Moss thinks she is best teacher he has ever known she teaches greek mythology assigns each member of class character in ancient greek mythology Odysseus is appointed Hermes son and messenger of Zeus Hermes has affair with Aphrodite resulting in child Hermaphroditus Hermes also fathers Pan rescues Dionysus saves Apollo’s son there is voice speaks inside Odysseus’s head no one can hear voice except Odysseus it is voice of smart-*** disobedient twisted child when Miss Moss says “where shall we begin today?” Odysseus automatically answers in his thoughts “how about up your sweet ***?” it is uncontrollable voice for his amusement only often he tries to ignore voice but sometimes it speaks out when voice speaks out Odysseus gets in trouble his friends think voice is funny adults get offended when he reflects on classmates at Harper and distinction of their privilege he wonders what went wrong they are troubled class in fifth grade they cause miss penteck to have nervous breakdown and retire other classes produce famous actors playwrights renowned restaurateurs prosperous investment bankers leading doctors Odysseus’s class produces delinquents gangsters social dropouts drug addicts suicides they take their privilege and run it straight to hell

creature inside Odysseus can be little monster teaches Penelope how to go berserk going berserk involves entering strange residential building in neighborhood elevator up getting off about middle floor pushing all elevator buttons scrambling down stairs knocking over umbrella stands spilling ashtrays ringing doorbells pounding doors running out lobby doors escaping uncaught Penelope is good warrior princess brother and sister can be little terrors

Ryan Siciliano and Odysseus go to see “the magnificent seven” at century theater they head south along broadway street college-age girl with large bouncing ******* appears walking north Ryan and Odysseus glance at approaching girl then nod to each other no plans uttered as college girl passes both Odysseus and Ryan reach up grab her ******* pet squeeze then run do not look back keep running laughing all the way to theater they watch movie with jaws hanging open mcqueen is brilliant all seven are so groovy movie inspires both Odysseus and Ryan.

in 1960 Mom and Dad send Odysseus and Penelope to sunday school at temple shalom teacher calls him aside "Schwartzpilgrim what do you want to be when you grow up?" Odysseus answers "architect or maybe an indian warrior" teacher says "do you know story of judas maccabi? he was a great warrior leader learn about the festival of lights and wield your sword wisely Odys Schwartzpilgrim" Odysseus replies "yes sir" two weeks later he gets kicked out of sunday school for pulling seat out from under girl during solemn religious service he never learns hebrew nor is he bar mitzvahed

Odysseus is hyper-sensitive about race and religion knows he comes from race of people who once were born into slavery nazis systematically exterminated millions of them at aushwitz-birkenaub belzek chelmno majdanek sobibor stutthof treblinka black and white photographs of faces emaciated children adults flicker before his thoughts knows jews are hated not considered caucasian in europe and russia not allowed to own land for many centuries what does it mean to be member of race of people who are despised and blamed? he sympathizes with all minorities particularly negroes who were forced from homeland collared into slavery and native americans who were cheated out of land and slaughtered by white people

Edna's alter ego ORLOK advises you not to trifle with him in his 8th poem*

Who would dare to mock the great Count Orlok,
Mighty vampire bat and ace sodomiser?
No one at all, I tell you, my old **** -
Against that I'd be a strong advisor.

But if anyone e'er dared to steal my poems
I'd surely rip their ******* throat apart;
They'd be opening a veritable can of worms -
And who cares if it were a guy or a ****?

So beware of stealing aught from this wicket bat
Who flutters above your house by night;
I'll surely find out just where you're at
And then may Satan pity you in your plight.

Anyone who steals my poems is condemned to Hell
And their death pains will be truly grotty;
Since, in spite of the really awful smell,
I'll stuff eight inches up their dying botty.

He's a high-end fashion designer with a celebrity following, but when it comes to the perfect wedding dress, Henry Holland has admitted you don't need to spend a fortune.

The designer from Greater Manchester, who has his own fashion house, said there are plenty of options for brides on a budget on the High Street.

'Being a fashion expert, I have something to say on the subject of wedding dresses, and I think you can look amazing without blowing your budget,' he said.

'Everyone knows that wedding dresses can cost an absolute fortune. You can spend anything from £8,000 - to £50,000 if you're J Lo. But there are so many amazing different styles and options on the High Street.'

Holland reveals his top picks, which can all be bought off-the-peg for less than £1,000, in his new Channel 4 show, The Changing Room.

He's impressed by the array of bridal gowns offered by Phase Eight, earmarking one Fifties-inspired design called the Sally Tulle wedding dress, which costs just £250.

He said of the dress: 'It's a cute Fifties-style prom shape with nice tulle and it doesn't look cheap, which is important. The fit and flare style flatters so many different body shapes and the length means you can show off your shoes.'

He also loved a cowl neck, full-length ivory gown from Ghost for £395, and a lacy £450 vintage-inspired wedding dress from Damsel in a Dress.

When choosing the perfect gown to walk down the aisle in, Holland recommends brides consider what they will look like from all angles.

He explained: 'Remember how important the back is. During the ceremony you will have your back to the congregation or your assembled group of friends.

'So for one of the only times in your life, think about how you look from behind.'

He advises looking for dresses with beads and sequin detailing all the way round - and again said this doesn't have to mean spending a fortune.

Showing a dress from Clifton Brides with a price tag of £995, he said: 'You can see the work that has been put into it; the beads and sequins have been sewn by hand by a skilled artisan.'

In his other style tips for brides he recommends glittery or lacy T-bar shoes and said 'always wear a veil'.

He said brides should not feel embarrassed about buying their dress from a High Street store. He added they should also banish worries about a guest turning up in the same gown with a stark warning for those planning their outfits for a friend or relative's big day.

'Buying off-the-peg is absolutely fine. You don't need to worry about anyone else turning up in the same dress as if any of your guests turns up wearing a white dress they need to be told to leave or escorted off the premises,' he joked.

One bride who took his style advice is Alex, who will tie the knot next June in Corfu.

She features in Holland's fly-on-the-wall series, The Changing Room, where cameras are installed in fitting rooms of House of Fraser, New Look, H&M;, Monsoon and River Island stores across the country.

In the first episode, which airs this evening, Alex is filmed trying on a wedding dress from Monsoon as well as picking her bridesmaids' gowns from the Oxford Street store in London.

She was impressed with the design and price of the £499 'Elise' gown, which is embellished on the front and has a mesh cut-away back covered in gems and beads.

'I love it, I don't think I want to try anything else on,' she said.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne

Here come I to my own again,
Fed, forgiven and known again,
Claimed by bone of my bone again
And cheered by flesh of my flesh.
The fatted calf is dressed for me,
But the husks have greater zest for me,
I think my pigs will be best for me,
So I’m off to the Yards afresh.

I never was very refined, you see,
(And it weighs on my brother’s mind, you see)
But there’s no reproach among swine, d’you see,
For being a bit of a swine.
So I’m off with wallet and staff to eat
The bread that is three parts chaff to wheat,
But glory be!—there’s a laugh to it,
Which isn’t the case when we dine.

My father glooms and advises me,
My brother sulks and despises me,
And Mother catechises me
Till I want to go out and swear.
And, in spite of the butler’s gravity,
I know that the servants have it I
Am a monster of moral depravity,
And I’m ****** if I think it’s fair!

I wasted my substance, I know I did,
On riotous living, so I did,
But there’s nothing on record to show I did
Worse than my betters have done.
They talk of the money I spent out there—
They hint at the pace that I went out there—
But they all forget I was sent out there
Alone as a rich man’s son.

So I was a mark for plunder at once,
And lost my cash (can you wonder?) at once,
But I didn’t give up and knock under at once,
I worked in the Yards, for a spell,
Where I spent my nights and my days with hogs.
And shared their milk and maize with hogs,
Till, I guess, I have learned what pays with hogs
And—I have that knowledge to sell!

So back I go to my job again,
Not so easy to rob again,
Or quite so ready to sob again
On any neck that’s around.
I’m leaving, Pater.  Good-bye to you!
God bless you, Mater! I’ll write to you!
I wouldn’t be impolite to you,
But, Brother, you are a hound!

the electronic dispenser is out of order yet the automated voice keeps repeating it’s not a problem it’s not a problem it’s not a problem it’s not a problem it’s not a problem it’s not a problem it’s not a problem it’s not a problem…



i hint to Mom maybe the nightly sleeping pills might contribute to her forgetfulness she replies what? i didn’t hear what you said i repeat maybe the nightly sleeping pills might add to your forgetfulness she answers what? i can’t hear you i say Mom you’ve been using sleeping pills since i was little maybe they’re a source of your fogginess she snaps what? what are you saying i can’t hear you



Tucson 2001 in the heat of disagreement Mom accuses i am the cause for her need to rely on sleeping pills do you understand what that means Mom you’ve been taking sleeping pills as far back as i can remember miltown seconal nebutal placidal ambient (when i was young i took some from your medicine cabinet then sold them to friends) was it always because of me your off-beat weird troubled kid or were there other reasons thank you Mom for all you have given me i am grateful appreciative truth is none of us trust each other these defenses we’ve created will someday turn on us



2010 it is difficult to write about Mom so many conflicted feelings our struggles contentious exchanges expectations criticisms blame all the money she and Dad poured into me hoping i would turn out successfully employed married with children instead her difficult child chose painting writing punk rock yoga Mom will be 90 in October she caught viral pneumonia last month concerned for her i flew to Chicago to see her my beautiful glamorous Mom who lives high up in tall high-rise doorman deskman elegantly decorated 3 bedroom apartment along lakefront my little Mom who’s once lovely figure shrunk in size morphed in shape with arthritic painfully twisted fingers hair color light ash skin spotted with dark purple brown splotches estate dwindled to crumbs my clever shrewd Mom still so talented socially telephone constantly ringing lunch dinner engagements accompanied by frantic loony sister both dressed to the nines shopping returning hairdresser appointments manicures yet memory rapidly disintegrating my poor sweet Mom who now needs my loving protection it is time for me to step up to the plate shield her from caregivers poised to pilfer my vulnerable Mom leaves her wallet in cab loses her glasses forgets events 2 hours ago furious at pharmacy for neglecting to include her sleeping pills i know i cannot change her whirlwind 24/7 world of gossip scandal denial it is i who will need to change sacrifice my simple sparse existence quiet desperation scrambling for pay gardening gazing up at the moon stars adapt to her dizzy drama driven life style in order to look after her



i’ve written about this before a defining moment that haunts me Bayli and i are staying at Toby Martin’s spacious loft near corner of Bleeker and Broadway 1973 Toby offers me job building stretchers canvases for Warhol he tells me lots of nyc women will model for me if i want to keep drawing vaginas he advises me to drop out of art school like he did assures me i will become famous it is October Sunday i am wearing white turtleneck wheat colored corduroy Levis jeans taupe suede clogs Bayle is dressed almost exactly as me except powder blue clingy top we are just art students Toby takes us up to Rauschenberg’s loft on Lafayette Street Rauschenberg is in the Bahamas the kitchen is all industrial size stainless steel coffee stained glass Chemex drip coffeemaker on stove  upstairs on roof many currently trendy painters edgy artists a sculptor who uses dynamite to blow up quarries in Vermont they scrutinize Bayli and Odysseus with voracious glares the men eye Bayli several women send flirtatious looks at Odysseus he feels fright protection for Bayli it is all too much too complex too threatening and in that moment he drops the ball creeped out fearful he takes her hand and they flee back to Hartford Art School but maybe he was wrong possibly Bayli could have handled those depths heights perhaps she would have blossomed i’ve thought about that moment many times torturing myself with my cowardice insecurity adoration for Bayli our love remaining pure never corrupted



a boy/man makes love with a girl/woman once twice in bed then falls blissfully asleep wakes up makes love all night in secluded room in sheltered house on quiet street in sleepy New England town in the morning with Velvet Underground turned up real loud they dance wild then make more love



perhaps my fears insecurities shyness are about a diminutive ***** or concave ***** at center of chest or all my weird physical psychological inhibitions idiosyncrasies not wanting the world to ever find out know a secret between Bayli and me possibly Bayli never noticed but probably she realized my desire longing to be recognized acclaimed yet remain unrecognizable live in quiet privacy i don’t know sometimes i wonder if Bayli loved me like i love her if there was only one twinkling star in her sky like there is in mine Mom says it’s wrong to limit my skies to one star she says Bayli separated from me and married someone else she asks has Bayli ever made an attempt to contact you since her 2nd marriage i answer you don’t understand Bayli is entirely devoted she would never look up or away from her man Mom says open your eyes there are lots of special stars meant just for you in the sky



at some point it becomes obvious the latest is instantly embarrassingly obsolete why would anyone want the latest



let them come these winds of change blowing sands garbage leaves twisting branches bending trees up the coast down the hole displacing erasing everything oceans rising currents colliding mountains crumbling fiery red skies there was a time once but that time is gone there was a girl once but that girl is gone a street a house  a room  a bed once but that street house room bed are gone hunter buried under hill sailor lost at sea he who steps courageous mindful compassionate will pass beyond the terror

Shopping was the world first invitation to women,
a freedom to move out of her house. Initially,
Woman practiced shopping for vegetables and slowly
extended to garments/jewelry/white goods etc. Today,
the world has experiencing a better market due to
window shopping. The concept innovated by women,
the women who started window shopping has helped
the awareness of the market, The more the window shopping,
more the sales. The concept of window shopping  
helped the textile industries to understand about their products.
The textile industries has developed in terms of marketing
say readymade, exchangeable, trial rooms, gifts coupons
are coz of women. Its encouraged the women to do
shopping effectively.

Facts about shopping. Customer who shop with their friends
tend to buy more costly products than when they shop alone.
Next, In terms of clothing, General advises is to buy
one garment at a time coz If you buy few dresses, You tend the use
the first selected dress more than the others. Buying 'Take Away'
in (costly) restaurant was the blinder coz restaurant charge more
for the ambience less for the food. Using cash on shopping,
you tend to spend less and you bargain more. Don't increase
your buying to eligible for discount coupon.  A survey says
that 90% of the issued discount coupons are never redeemed.
Never shop on Discount Sale coz the best collection will be
taken off the shelf by the shopkeeper. The amazing fact,
If any one buy the best and costly clothes one size less than
the one normally uses, has brought down the weight
of that person.

The End Times

Repent, the zealot dinner guest, invited
For purposes of theological correctness, chides.
Repent, and sin no more, he advises, for the end is near.

But isn't that like asking a carnivore to turn vegan
Moments before the serving of  a pampered calf's liver
I ask

he takes special care in the fall of a sparrow
The zealot replies, eyeing me as I set
My peas to one side with my fork.

Yes, but it was just that one, I retort.

His first.

the good old baritone advises her,
his sopranino daughter tweets disjoint,
arpeggio his point, her counterpoint
a syncopated rhythm of meter,

her high pitched protestations in her pleas,
and low-pitched grumbling sighings alternate,
as puntal, contrapuntal altercate,
to musically the rolling of her eyes,

his stern yet soft soprano wife defers,
while yielding to her baritone's movement,
conducting, though, the orchestrated theme,

as tenor, alto sons  caesur' occurs,
her soothing background voice reveals eschewment,
with daughter's movement stuck 'tween measures' beams

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

Her name is Magda and this is her story.

Cast your mind to another time, another place...

The year is 1939 and the place is Germany. The night is cold, the wind howls and upon the strike of midnight there is a thunderous hammering upon the door where little Magda lives. It is the Gestapo, ******’s secret police, they arrest Magda’s father and send him to clear minefields for the German army. Her father has not committed any crime. He is a law abiding citizen who works hard and is a respected member of society. He is arrested because he happens to be Jewish.

Less than a year after the arrest Magda’s mother receives a letter which says her husband has been killed.

Then, on another wild and frightful night there is thunder once more upon the door. This time the soldiers arrive and take Magda, her mother and Magda’s brother George, who is only four-years old.

They are driven to the railway station and packed into a cattle truck with many other people. The floor of the tight compartment is slippery with cow dung, the walls greasy with grime and dirt, and the air hangs heavy with the stale sweat of fear. The prisoners pray silently.

Magda can feel the heat rising as time passes and her mouth and lips become dry. The air is becoming humid, people are gasping, some have fainted, others are weeping. Magda has no idea how long she has been trapped in this claustrophobic dungeon. Her throat burns but there is no water and no food, just slow and painful suffocation. The journey seems to be without end.

Finally, when she thinks she is about to faint, the train screeches to a halt. There are screams and shouts as the prisoners are pushed and shoved out of the carriages and marched towards the barbed-wire gates of the death camp that looms out of the morning fog. Soldiers stand at the sides pointing rifles at the new prisoners. Magda jumps back from when she sees a huge dog snap at her. The spittle from the dog’s foaming mouth flicks across her wrist and she shivers. She notices the sharp teeth and the raging eyes of the dog. The soldier tugs on the dog’s leash and laughs.

There are men in black leather uniforms who are separating the prisoners into two lines, one for men and one for women. Magda’s little brother George is torn from his mother’s arms and thrown into the line where the male prisoners are waiting. Her mother tries to fight her way through the soldiers but she is thrown back and falls into the mud. When she gets up she sees the line of men close around little George and he vanishes. This will be the last time Magda and her mother will ever see little George.

The seasons change, the world turns and time passes. The year is now 1944 and the prison is a place of hunger, thirst, disease and death. There is nothing but fear and sadness as family after family is killed for no other reason except that they are Jews.

Once more, on a stormy night, there is a scream in the night and Magda wakes up. She reaches over and touches her starving and skeletal mother, she searches for her mother’s warmth and her protection, but on this night when her fingers clutch her mother she finds only the cold. Her mother has passed away during the night.

The next day the Allied Forces arrive and liberate the death camp. Magda is free at last. Her frail body is thin but she has survived. She knows that her mother only lived as long as she did so that Magda would survive.

There is an ambulance waiting and Magda is driven to a hospital and from there she is given the very last seat on a plane bound for Great Britain. She arrives in Birmingham and is welcomed with open arms. The people are friendly, warm, kind and smile when they speak. Magda cannot speak English but in time she learns to read and write and soon she is living with a foster family who treat her with love.

Magda knows that in Germany she was not allowed to go out and play. Her mother could only go to one shop for a few minutes under armed guard. The family had no freedom and no protection. Things in England are different. She can go to school, visit shops and parks, spend time with friends and go to her place of worship without any fear.

Every week she goes to Steelhouse Lane Police station and gets her documents stamped. She can only stay in England if she is a student otherwise she will be deported to Germany.  Thus, Magda studies hard and hopes to go to college. She is still sad inside because she knows when her education ends she will have to return to Germany. Sergeant Roberts, from Steelhouse Lane Police station, smiles warmly and advises her, “Magda, if anyone ever asks you what it is that you’re studying, tell them you’re studying to be a grandmother.”

Once more time spins and this time eighty years have passed and the year is 2011 and the place is Birmingham Town Hall. An elegant lady walks onto the stage, the light bounces on her curly hair creating a silvery halo around her glowing face and the audience wait eagerly to hear her speak. She is calm, peaceful and her voice is clear despite her age. She carries no darkness or hate or vengeance, only love. She looks at the audience and smiles gently and says, “My name is Magda and this is my story...”



©Rangzeb Hussain

Yes, I am crazy.
I am a fire, I do things I shouldn't do, I don't listen to good advises, I venture here and there, I listen to everyone and talk to no one, I touch people I shouldn't touch, I get undressed inappropriately, I run away to places only I know of, I lose myself in a long car ride, I always take the long way home when driving, I go to the beach and stay in the sea all day, I cut my hair when a story ends, or get a tattoo, I build walls in people's faces and destroy them when I feel comfortable around them, I spend more money than I make, I hop into strangers' cars everyday, I wear heels and go for long walks, I take routes that lead me to people I love, I sit on the edge of mountains with my legs hanging, I buy dance clothes and wear them everyday, I play songs I fall in love with on repeat for weeks, I yell out of happiness, I laugh oh so loud, ...
I am crazy because I can't be contained
I am crazy because I am curious about this world
I want to die with not a single "what if I had the courage?"
I apologize to those I hurt and will hurt
And I love back all those who fell in love with me
But most of all, I hope I grow through it all
I hope that, on my death bed, I can tell every crazy story to my sons and grand kids and die with a smile on my face, die happy, with all my memories flashing back inside my head.
I hope I become a fire that eats everything it meets and grows bigger and bigger, without burning, without leaving ashes behind, only bringing heat to those who have been feeling cold for a long while.



- LynnAA

Horses are the love of your life, right? So it's only natural that if you are planning on getting hitched to the other love of your life, you'll want to include your horse in the big day itself. You could go the whole hog and have your horse carry you and your betrothed down the aisle and stand beside you at the ceremony - but that isn't the easiest feat to pull off, even with the quietest of mounts!

Luckily, there are lots of other ways to feature your equine passion at your wedding; whether it's just for the photo shoot itself, or by subtle touches at the reception.

Photographers Peter and Rosemary Morris from Photoshoot in West Auckland adore working with horses and have captured several horsey weddings. They say planning a wedding with horses is not all that different from doing anything else with horses – you need to have a well thought-out plan, but must be prepared to change that plan at any stage if problems arise.

"Try to keep things simple. Don't be too ambitious and plan to a level you are confident and familiar with, not beyond," advises Peter. "There is a lot to consider actually, more than most people realise. We've had a few horse weddings where the horses were eventually dropped from the day due to the extra logistics involved."

One of the prime considerations is transport. Most brides have enough trouble getting themselves to the wedding on time, says Peter. You'll need to call in some favours, and have somebody to prepare and transport your horse, which of course includes loading which sometimes is a challenge on its own. "Try and get your best and most trusted horsey friends involved to help sort transport, grooming and tacking up," says Peter.

Another key point is the bombproof-ness of your horse. How will he or she react to a large, rustling dress and windblown veil, a crowd of people who may be nervous around horses, and a different handler? Then there is the music, clapping and flapping decorations to consider, along with the added tension and emotion the big day brings.

"Will your horse be at the ceremony, or will you arrive on the horse and have it taken away afterwards? Do you plan to have your horse take part in the whole day, including the arrival, ceremony and photos? Are you riding ******* or in a saddle? Can you actually ride your horse in a dress?" queries Peter. "There really is a lot more to prepare and organise once you commit to having your horse as part of your wedding day."

Of course, if you can manage it, Peter says horses make a great addition to your wedding photos and this is the easiest and most fun part of the day. "The bride is relaxed, the crowd disperses and what you get in the photos is just a split-second, so even if all it not going so well you should still expect to get one or two amazing shots to last a lifetime.

"This is where 'horsey' photographers can help out, knowing how to get the horse's attention and even helping to lead and pose the horse or assist with mounting and dismounting if necessary."

Run through the entire day in your mind and think about how you want the day to unfold. Try to anticipate any pitfalls, so you can address these before they become a problem.

- Always have a Plan B. Have the ceremony at or close to a stable, where you are guaranteed shelter or at least a venue for the photos after the ceremony, if nothing else. Arrange this with a friend, local club or racetrack.

- Consider wind! The beach can become unsettling for horses very quickly, so bear this in mind when making wedding plans.

- If it's a beach wedding, be sure to check access and tides. High tide may limit access and only give you soft, dry sand to work with. Low tide and wet, hard sand offers the beauty of reflections if photos. If part of your day involves walking tracks and streams, have someone check the day before to make sure they are accessible and not flooded or muddy.

- Most importantly: keep the focus on yourself and make your wedding memorable for all the right reasons.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane

If that Shirazi Turk would succeed in winning my heart
I'll give up Samarkand and Bukhara, solely for her Indian mole

Serve remained wine, Saki, cause you can't find in the paradise
Such a place as Ruknabad stream and Musall's gardens

Oh! these gypsies who are sweet and set the city to chaos
They drained heart from patience, as Turks take the pillages

My sweetheart's beauty doesn't need my imperfect love
How a beautiful face is in need of paint and powder and mole?

Talk about minstrels and wine, don't seek universe's secret
That is that, no one solved and will solve this enigma by logic

I knew beforehand from ever-improving charm that Joseph possessed
That love finally would bring Zulaikha out of her innocence

You talked to me badly, God forgive you, you said it well
Bitter answer is proper for that red-colored sugar-sweet lips

My soul, listen to advice, for blissful youths like more
That wise old's advises more than their own sweet lives

Hafez! you told Ghazals and pierced pearls, come sing fine
For your harmony in your poetry, Heaven weds Soraya!

I’m so siced about the Barbie movie. I just watched the latest trailer. I felt a fluttering in the stummy.

Peter’s birthday was May 1st. “What do you want for your birthday?” I’d asked.
“A flash for my iPhone,” he said. “Your phone already HAS a flash,” I replied, helpfully.
“No,” he explained, “a professional, external flash - they’re much more subtle and variable.”
“What are you going to take pictures of?” I asked. “You,” he said, smiling slyly.
“Me!?” I said, with a wrinkled nose, somewhat alarmed. “You don’t take pictures of ME.”
“Not usually,” he admitted, “but we’re going to Paris and the snaps will look better with a flash.” “Just ME?” I asked, “What about some ussies?” “We’ll take snaps of us, but you’ll have savage new pics for your poetry sites.” So, Peter got his flash and he’s taken a baZillion pix.

“Smile,” click, (iPhones don’t always click, so the click’s a writer’s dramatic effect)
Peter takes bursts of 50 pix at a time and only one in fifty turns out looking good (my opinion).
“Look this way,” click “toss your hair,” click. Apparently salads and my hair are better ‘tossed.’
So now we’re in Paris, but before we can take our tourist pic, I must lean over, like I’m going to throw up and comb my hair forward, so when I flip it back, it will appear fluffy.

“Look sad, look happy, try not to look so drunk, look ****,” he asks. “You’re kidding,” I replied. I exist only in his view finder.
“Just part your lips slightly and look vacuous,” he advises.
“Can I DO both at once?” I asked, as if challenged by a scientific equation.
“Don’t roll your eyes,” he said. Today, he was ‘the serious artist’. I’d never want to be a model.
Finally, I’d had enough constant photography and I just started looking moody. Peter seemed not to notice.

I read somewhere that when you smile, the activated muscles of your face actually improve your mood. Or something like that. Anyway, I’m trying to deepfake myself and smile my way to happiness. I ordinarily think of myself as tough, but lately, I’m soft.

A Yale counselor once told me that sometimes we tell ourselves a story and we just hold on to that version of things until it feels true. I have to stop thinking I’m on the edge of a deep, blue loneliness. I need to get on a metaphysical bike and ride away from my sad-self.

Later, when we’re back at the hotel, Peter was reading in the living room and I was lying on the bed, watching another Heraclee Beach, sapphire and ruby, sundown through the hotel windows. Peter came looking for me. He had a book in one hand, his place saved with his index finger.

“What are you doing?” He asked, lightly. “Want to go out to dinner or get room service?”
“I’m thinking thoughts.”
“What kind of thoughts? He asked, taking a seat on a desk chair he’d rolled over. Now I’m watching his face and he’s watching mine.
“You know how, everyday, at school, we tell each other everything that happened?” Peter nodded. “Which, of course,” I’d continued, “is impossible, but it’s as if we’re having experiences just so we could discuss them later - share them. It’s like, when we aren't together, it isn’t real life.”
“So..” he said, verbally prodding me on.

My voice felt thick, like it knew I wouldn't say things right. “Well, I’m two me’s now, I’m split right down the middle. Before you, things were easy. I was becoming Dr. Me, I had one goal, things were simple,” I shrugged, “but now, there's the me that’s going to be a doctor and the me that needs you.” I can’t seem to take my eyes off his face.

He touched my foot and wiggled it a little. “You don’t have to figure out the future right NOW, Mz overachiever.” He said in his soft, western drawl, “You can’t wrestle the future into orderly submission, like a chemistry test - we don’t have enough data (says mr. physics). Anyway, don’t we have forty or fifty years to figure it out?”
Suddenly, my head felt clearer than it had for days. I chuckled. I may have had my hand over my mouth and a smile was so big it hurt my face.

“You were very patient to put up with me today,” I said, turning slightly and quietly serious.
“You be you,” he said, smiling bigly back, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then I got serious. “Do you think we can find barbecue?”
“But of course!” he said, in a fake French accent, like Lemiure, in ‘Beauty and the Beast.’

you are so annoying...

you are so complicated..

you bring drama to my life..

you laugh at me...

you laugh with me...

you know all bout my crushes...

you know all bout my life every single detail..

you make me smile...

you irritate me..

you are my "philosophic talker"

you my "******* taker"

you give all wrong advises..

you scream at me with CAPITAL LETTERS..!! :)

you make me smile with all the "awwww..."

you are with me day and night..!!

and wen u get upset with me nothings all right..!! :(

even if people call us "lesbians" I DON'T CARE..!!!

because i know we have our share of crushes...lovers and admirers...that v both only know of..!!! :)

you have seen me in my bad..u have seen me in my best..

you have seen me going "tomboy " to "girly" for a guy..!! :)

you criticize me...i abuse you...and that is what makes us Best Friends Forever..!!!

i know i have ******* you royally..!! i know i have irritated you no end..!! thank you for bearing it all...thank you for standing by me!! thank you for taking my ****..!! and lastly...thank you for STICKING AROUND AND LISTENING TO ME..!!!!!

LOVE YOU LOADS..!!!

P.S : We are not BFFs... WE ARE..

: Best Friend For Life Like Sisters And Always I Love You..!!!

It cuts deep.
to know your motives.
hidden in vast memories
you know within.

Fooling one's self
for once not to care.
but everyone sees
your wear and tear.

to the teardrops falling
the wounds you wished to heal.
agony is in the spirit
a love lost, he fears.

to the burst of emotions,
the hands of time you can't reverse.
people will always give you
advises you cannot seem to hear.

You finish your day
waiting for another tomorrow.
scars that time cannot heal
happiness you tend to borrow

botswana has advised waiting to receive first gift of a concorde. the agreement is to station at dalton in south africa until north up to speed with customs considered safe internationally. i would like north africa to accept uk help in securing safer air flight areas in africa for everyone.

hebrew in south africa has asdvised happy to accept our ‘free market’ 1%in 1%out for mango for uk france and china and also north africa. kim has agreed with me to export olive  oil to uk china and france from italy. kim also authorises all mango from africa to italy on ‘free trade’ 1% 1% agreement.

nigeria advises they are doing well with the hippo madame who was extradited from china due to wallowing problems at quoi. nigeria says madame is the most beailutiful hippo ive ever seen except when she decides the area is not long enough for her to bathe.

please remember shah of iran did deal for oil at 68p per litre diesel all around the world for 1000 years. he is such a lovely guy. he advises he has enough stock for a million years so the world can relax.

please note electric car will shortly be banned as unsafe in uk france and china. unleaded fuel is better than being frazzled in your electric car.

other news
i spoke to president of france and it was agreed france would not have opening to fish on uk waters as we have 4 million phoenetians who have moved to uk and when we looked at the figures there were enough fish in french waters for all the fishermen in france to gain wealth.

on a positive note when i advised the problem is we think the french hate us he advised they dont hate uk as much as everyone else which i found consoling. i have offered complete china airforce support to france if they are ever attacked.

choo has agreed he’d like deal with china but agrees it needs to be areas where chinese workers would not be threatened. fwoah dream  puts balance of weight of decision on all trade based upon number of jobs it would create. remember china moving towards shorter hours for workers.

I'll be honest
I'm not exactly sure how to write myself pretty
I don't think I'm capable of making desire out of words
Or forming the way I sound into something you would want to fall asleep to
I cannot mold my body into a figure that you would want next to yours for more than one night
I have more passion in myself than I know what to do with
I often give it out as hope for people to take in their hands, find something good in all of my chaos
Everyone always advises not to fall face first in love
Forgetting that the those who fall by accident
Often land the hardest
Hitting the ground full force
Cheek against the pavement
I was built with 206 bones in my body
And I will break all of them from my mistakes
Before I dare to stop falling
The crash is worth the high
Ask me every time when I am still hung over from yesterday
And I will always say yes
Having regrets has always seemed better
Than having nothing at all
I was born with steel layed out upon my chest
All of these attempts at language
Are done with the intention
Of removing some weight off of it
I have been made heavy by my own silence on too many occasions
At times I have been told not to speak
That my lips should be kept shut for protection
There are bolts on my jaw
My tongue is sandpaper
And I will risk grinding my teeth for the possibility of igniting a flame
Inside someone who has spent years trying to find a lit match
Let me be the thing that starts a fire
Rhyming doesn't always incite romance
But I can try my best
See the problem is that there are so many ways to say I love you
But not enough to make them love you
The problem is having a million things to say
And a million ways to say them
But not knowing the right way how to
There is no right or wrong here
Only hold back or release
So stutter instead of staying quiet
It is much more beautiful on paper
To disregard format, or style
And structure
I will mess up
As best as I can
And in the morning
Look at it again
Remember how it felt
To live
Then reread,
Review,
And edit.

This title, this challenge,
Has rested uncomfortably in IPad memory,
Storage unit for Poems Needing Composition,
Unwritten, unanswered, needy for resolution.

Today is a good day to answer.

You are the pause between my breaths,
A ledge to rest on, a stepping stone,
Without you, there is no next one.

You are audience faithful,
Scribbles, wordplay, jokes horrible,
Official Storer/Inspiration Sorcerer of my unending script.

You are shy critic, unwavering,
Deft, with feminine oversight,
Knowledgable proven, when silence, best.

You overfill my AM coffee cup,
The mug that advises sagely,
Be calm in you heart.

You overfill my PM  cup nightly,
Knowing that even tho, can't sing or dance,
I need to, can do, can't do w/o you.

So lest, mistaken grievous,
You think, highly erroneous,
This poem is NOT about me babe,

This poem is entitled,
You,
How Much, Owed,
You.

Lest the answer be poetically muddled,
On this day, perfect weather, perfect clarity,
Unashamedly Everything.


Sept. 15th 2012
In bed, 8:22 am
NYC

---------------
Addendum June 29th 2012
This old soul loves you more. He cannot believe his good fortune,
This June, this one more perfect afternoon, my heart importunes,
Love my poetry like I love thee, and we will have the most
Perfect Union

The voice from the screen
a face that's never seen
advises you unknowingly
blurring the lines
one day at a time
until control is complete

Palembang, 29 September 2010


Thanks Grand Ma for taking care of me
Thanks for the time you've spent just for me
Thanks for many advises you said
Thanks for everything in my short 15th/18th years
I Love You Grand Ma

And sorry for what I've done wrong
Sorry I made mistakes many time
Sorry I'm still a little girl in the room
Sorry for hard to say I Love You
Sorry for hurt that you've got
Cause I just don't know what to do

Wish, I could give you the bestest
To make you proud and smile for me
We know nothing is impossible
And I believing my self, Someday
I'll give you everything you need
Love Ya Grand Ma...

(Now you are not around anymore
You are the shining star above
Your body so fragile now
But your soul is lives in our hearts
Sorry for made you cry
Sorry if your husband, your children and your grandchildren made you sad before you leave
Sorry is the last thing that we could do
But we'll never stop to say "I LOVE YOU"

Rest In Peace Nana

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Love More:
Celine Outelt  http://www.cfad.org/

I can't feel for a fool.
Who lost everything in a divorce.
It probably was your decision.
It probably was your choice.
Then again, it might not have been.
Once upon a dream, you both were good friends.
And most divorces happens cause you let another enter in.

The cars, the mansion and the money too.
Only high light the seriousness of your trust.
Which seems amongst the rich not to exist.

I can't feel for a fool.
Who simply goes broke?
Bad investments, bad decision and bad choices.
When they fail to listen to their inner voices.
Which advises them better than associates.

Just listening to their commentary.
You come across seeing it as a laughing matter.
The athlete.
The businessman chasing women as a sport.
Sad thing about all of this mess.
The women that played the game ends up getting the blame.
And a loser too.
For, when he's broke and desolute.
Whom are they going to find to foot the financial bill.

The life style.
The child support.
The alimony.
That many needs to survive.
After all, the fool no longer can assist you.
Cause from looking at him.
He's hurting too.

I guess this is why this poem title the fool?

The doctors advise seeing an adviser.
The advisers advise asking a pill.
A pill advises a short respite.

So, you swallow as the emptiness fills you.
Not the sun of that first spring day,
or the last embrace of an old friend
or the departure of your last humanity
stir anything inside.
You are hollow now, no heaven and no hell.

Surely this is better, they say,
You look through them hearing nothing,
You stare past days and nights into the stillness left by a pill,
and then you grasp what a pill advises.

in the midst of brexit i advise that britain continues to trade as normal if there was a previous trade in place.
the treasury advises £190 billion at present so we are not bankcrupt. france looking to supply wine in britain i have agreed on 1%per unit import and export. please continue to buy and sell and please dont refuse  to deliver if something is sent.

the money is in the english admin from my fwoah account for eternity account. i put 1thousand thousand thousand trillion into the account so everyone who qualifies should get this including students on top of grants and living funding.
pensioners should get extra £400 a month all unemployed and universal credit with also £200 to each child under 18.
in the next few days we will set up a call centre for people in britain to call. i’m sorry not everyone has received theres but its difficult with whitehall virtually closed due to emdemic. i would add the oxford vaccine looks safe.

fwoah dream boleyn also advises funding for 400 new jobs for policeman at request of george scott of scotland yard.

fwoah dream reiterates that sea commands all military under fwoah.

fwoah continues to support trump (choo) in this difficult transfer of power. we’ve had the fake news now we’ve the fake vote. china requests transparency at this point in time and recounts in the areas where there was corruption against our ally america.

dra (english commander raf) would like to thank fwoah for continuing to support the military in great britain. he would also like to thank ian of china for making sure that china would never attack. he wants to move forward in action with china and support the idea that evil is no longer in the world. scott advises police support to southern ports to turn back anyone who classes as evil on the new ap.

fwoah advises extra 400 jobs in the south for policemen to id check for evil people trying to move to great britain. fwoah paid 2billion into police funding for this service from taxpayers cash. exchequer has £130 billion and boro was yet again trying to steal money.
this 2 billion spending to be determined by scot of scotland yard with emphasising creating jobs. definitely  400 on southern coast. key phrasing ‘system’ army and police and customs to work together.

emails to changes to government and request for finance to be emailed to www.chinachange.

Holding a mind and a heart working together
Fighting the moral conflicts that never end forever
They are the dreamers and the believers
Living a life different from the regulars

Emotions play an important role
Practicality dwells in the corner of the hole
They like to be in a state of utopia
Constantly looking for a better euphoria

But that is often sensed as a mistake and not as a gift
It creates imbalance and quantifies the reason of sorrow
Advises overflow to bring you down to reality
But they will never understand how hard it is
To ask someone to be somebody not meant to be

I have an unusual friend. A small man with charms of a gentle redneck. He holds court in his garage for his acquaintances, those free or at large. His demeanour is rustic, but his wisdom self-taught. His name is Byron ( I know, it's too good to be true),  not lordly, but Byron likes the girls and light brew. Byron says, “I'll kick your ***.” every time we play golf. Not yet. His voice is chasmic and often influenced by distractions. And then on a cold, witch-***, heathcliffe driving winter's day, with the wood stove well-fired, a rascally friend opens the door, and Byron yells, “Shut the door. Do you think wood grows on trees.” On leaving the same day he advises me, “Don't slip on the ice. It's frozen.” I didn't tell  you Byron has one eye. Better yet, a patch on the other. He looks more like post Frodo  ignoring the “Don't run with scissors" warning from Mother Baggins, than he does Lord B. I dropped my pipe once on his garage floor. A special pipe. It's my bowling pipe. I don't smoke tobacco.  Byron thinks it clever to call me at work and tell my secretary he and I are bowling after school. Byron mixes metaphors. So, my pipe has dropped. Byron says, “ Let me help. Three eyes are better than two.” His cleverness can backfire. I tried to be sensitive, but there was neither an honourable or dishonourable way out. Byron hung an oak wood sign near his stove. He makes his own stain, and rubs it evenly in circles with his wife's old nylons. “It's great for the *******,” he'll quip. The two ***** of the sign are joined with leather straps and stainless steel studded to the wood. The letters painted within the stencilled lines are a dark, rich mixture. The joke. “Lift flap in case of fire.” Normally one lifts the flap. “Not now stupit. In case of fire.” I discreetly pointed out the t.The sign quietly disappeared and was never mentioned again. He'll never kick my ***.

If the young one advises you
Listen to him
If the old one advises you
Follow him

It's the most wonderful time of year...for a wedding? That's right! If the thought of getting hitched outside during your favorite snowflake falling time of year is intimidating, don't fret. Where there is a will there is a way. Warm your friends and family up to the idea of an outdoor winter wedding ceremony by taking these cold weather tips to heart.

Get hitched in a warmer climate


Because obviously, an outdoor winter wedding ceremony set in Southern California or Miami, is a lot more bearable than say, being stuck in the middle of an NYC blizzard. Yes, it will still be a bit cool out, but more along the lines of early fall (think 50s and low 60s), as opposed to below freezing temperatures. Destination wedding, anyone?

Warn your friends and family

There's nothing worse than showing up to a winter wedding, only to discover it's being held outside and you had no idea. "Give your guests a forewarning so they come prepared," advises lifestyle expert and event designer Jung Lee of Fete NY. If you plan on moving the party indoors after you say, "I do", having a coat check for guests is an absolute must.

Gift your girls a cozy faux fur shrug

It's the least you can do for forcing them to stand by your side in the freezing cold. Kidding! Seriously though, a chic faux fur shrug will not only keep your bridesmaids warm for photos and throughout the ceremony, but it's an item they can definitely wear again post-wedding. Plus, it looks killer in pictures! "I also love the idea ofthe bridesmaids having warm hand muffs and the groomsmen tucking a flask in their jackets," says Lee.

Crank the heat up

Like it or not, you're probably going to have to bring in some heaters. Everyone has a different tolerance for chilly weather, but after 10-15 minutes of sitting outside in the cold, most people become uncomfortable, cautions Lee. "Heaters then become a good solution. Remember that some can be loud and others don't provide warmth unless you're in close proximity to them, however."

Provide blankets, wraps or both for guests

They serve a practical need by keeping everyone warm and also make for a cute design opportunity styled up in a cozy corner, points out Los Angeles-based event planner Leslie Kaplan, owner of ENCORE. The softer and bigger the blankets, the better! Bonus points to brides and grooms that incorporate an area for guests to gather and warm up pre or post-ceremony: think a rustic fire pit or a more modern fireplace, suggests Kaplan.

Embrace warm drinks

Upon arrival, Kaplan recommends greeting your guests with a toasty beverage, such as hot chocolate or having a cider bar. Lee, on the other hand, loves Hot Toddies served in a footed glass with a cinnamon stick. "Mulled wine is another great option," she offers.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-perth

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First you said you loved me
Now you're not so sure
My happy jolly feelings
Just fell right through the floor

I was thinking plural
but we were 'we' no more
And everyone advises
And on and on they bore

I want to stop and tell them
My heart is really sore
Perhaps I'll sit for hours
Or scream and shout and roar

Perhaps I'll do a smelly poo
And pop it through your door
I think then I'll be over you
What was your name again?