Joe's blog: "Things of interest to me....."

I received an e-mail that kinda got my ranting juices flowing. Mind you, it's not an angry rant. It is merely a rant to show the other side of the argument. So, I played Devil's Advocate (pardon the pun). > > > > > > > > > > Only Two Defining Forces Have Ever > Offered > > To Die For You. > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > 1. Jesus Christ > > > > > 2. U. S. Service Man > > > > > One Died For Your Soul, The Other Died > For > > Your Freedom. > > > > > > > > > > > This will make you re-think: A Trivia > > question in Sunday > > > > > School: > > > > > How long is the beast allowed to have > > authority in > > > > > Revelations? > > > > > > > > > > Revelations Chapter 13 tells us it is > 42 > > months, and you > > > > > know what that is. > > > > > Almost a four-year term of a > Presidency. > > > > > > > > > > All I can say is 'Lord, Have mercy > on > > us!' > > > > > > > > > > According to The Book of Revelations > the > > anti-Christ is: > > > > > The anti-Christ will > > > > > be a man, in his 40's, of MUSLIM > > descent, who will > > > > > deceive the nations with > > > > > persuasive language, and have a MASSIVE > > Christ-like > > > > > appeal....the prophecy says > > > > > that people will flock to him and he > will > > promise false > > > > > hope and world peace, > > > > > and when he is in power, will destroy > > everything.. > > > > > > > > > > Do we recognize this description?? > > > > > > > > > > I STRONGLY URGE ea ch one of you to > post > > this as many times > > > > > as > > > > > you can! Each opportunity that you > have to > > send it to a > > > > > friend or media outlet..do it! > > > > > I refuse to take a chance on this > unknown > > candidate who > > > > > came out of nowhere.. > > > > > > > > > > From: Dr. John Tisdale > > > > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > > > > > > > > > As I was listening to a news program > last > > night, I > > > > > watched in horror as Barack Obama made > the > > statement with > > > > > pride. . .'we are no longer a > Christian > > nation; we are > > > > > now a nation of Christians, Jews, > Muslims, > > Buddhists, . . > > > > > ..' As with so many other > statements > > I've heard > > > > > him (and his wife) make, I never > thought > > I'd see the day > > > > > that I'd hear something like that > from a > > presidential > > > > > candidate in this nation. To think our > > forefathers fought > > > > > and died for the right for our nation > to be > > a Christian > > > > > nation--and to have this man say with > pride > > that we are no > > > > > longer that. How far this nation has > come > > from what our > > > > > founding fathers intended it to be. > > > > > > > > > > I hope that each of you will do what > I'm > > doing > > > > > now--send your concerns, w ritten > simply and > > sincerely, to > > > > > the Christians on your email list. > With > > God's help, > > > > > and He is still in control of this > nation > > and all else, we > > > > > can show this man and the world in > November > > that we are, > > > > > indeed, still a Christian nation! > > > > > Please pray for our nation! > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I have to take exception to this particular e-mail. This is not a Christian nation. It was founded by Christians who had been driven from other nations by persecution, Christians who designated that there would be NO state religion nor denial of the practice of ANY religion by the government. Where there is a state religion, there is persecution of other beliefs. This may be a country founded by Christians, but it is a nation where people are free to practice whatever religious faith, or lack thereof, they choose. Now, it seems to me that so many are pushing their Christian beliefs all across the internet. Every candidate is talking about their Christian faith. So many GOOD Christians have attacked others throughout history because of different religious beliefs, because they were gay, because their Christian beliefs were not follwing a specific and exacting dogma. Yet, within the Bible it says to turn the other cheek. The Ten Commandments say, "Thou Shalt Not Kill". This does not even bring up the cults created by Christians such as Jim Jones and David Koresh. And let's not even begin to go into Rasputin..... It also does not bring into play the money-grubbing of TV Evangelists, or even of the priesthood back in the Middle Ages and the Rennaissance. Read Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, specifically the Pardoner's Tale. He took gold from others for forgiveness of sins, basically selling absolution. Look at the great churches of Europe, or even the US, and the Vatican. While masses of people were starving and being worked to death, these edifices were outfitted in gold, silver and gems, the finest in tapestries, embroidered clothing and implements for services. The Church took land, and practically ruled the world through threats of damnation, excommunication, and by sending bishops to be advisors to kings. Of course, it is not just Christianity. Muslim nations have become breeding grounds of fanatics and terrorists. People who wage bloody wars not only against Christians, but with other sects within their own religion. People who expect to be rewarded with "72 virgins in Heaven" for killing infidels and sacrificing their own lives. And people wonder why I say I believe in God, but not religion. God is not found in a Church, or a Mosque, or a Synagogue. God's words are not in the Bible, the Quran or the Torah; those were written by Man. God is seen in the flowers, the ocean, the trees, the stars in the sky, a baby's smile, all living and non-living things. God's word is heard in the buzzing of bees, the wind whistling through trees, in laughter, in a baby's cry, a babbling brook. Anyway, I read all that and I just had to add my two-cents worth. Ranting done. Carry on.

This is a cryptic apology. I will post this in my other blogs as I get time, but I am beginning here. You see, because of a miscommunication, which is kind of understandable because of the wording I suppose, I have done a once good friend a great disservice. Several, actually. You know who you are. While the words alone do nothing to redress the wrong I did, while nothing I can say or do can correct or rectify the fact that I abandoned a friend who later needed me the most, I give my deepest, most heart-felt apologies. I will do everything possible within my power to never allow it to happen again. And, yes, dear reader, you may ask. But I wll NOT tell.

Today, in the United States, is known as Veterans' Day. It is a day meant to honor all Veterans of the US military, whether dead or alive. It's kind of funny, actually, that I should be a veteran myself because tomorrow, when Veteran's Day is observed by closing Federal offices and banks, is also my birthday. But to day is what I call Veterans' Day Actual. So, I want to take a few moments to give a "Shout Out" to all my fellow vets, both active and inactive. Let's everyone in the United States take a few moments to say thanks and give hugs and show our love for those who either volunteered to put their lives on the line for the freedoms that we take for granted, and to send our love to all those who were drafted at one time, and those who never came home, and, of course, to those, like my father and General Patton, who made it home but are now dead. My father served two tours in Viet nam. He was a helicopter mechanic, and a door-gunner on a Huey, in the USMC, drafted for his first tour but he volunteered for his second so that one of his brothers would not have to go. His best friend, who had been stationed with Anglico, once told my father that he should just become a grunt because, as the door-gunner, he had had so many helicopters shot out from under him. There was a house that the Marine patrol had always been told was owned by friendlies, so they were not to touch it. But, from what I understand, my father had always had a bad feeling about it. One day, while out on patrol with his squad, my father acted upon his suspicions. I don't know if he saw something or if he was just going on his gut instincts, but they destroyed the house and its occupants. My father was up on charges, was about to face serious penalties, when evidence was produced showing the occupants to acutally have been in league with the Viet Cong. Not only was he exonerated of any wrong-doing, he was awarded the Navy Cross for his quick thinking and his actions. It just goes to show that not all Marines obey orders without question all the time. And, that sometimes that disobedience has a far better outcome. But, Viet Nam was an upopular conflict. Because my father died before I was two years old, I will never hear his stories from his lips, about the war itself and the various problems involved in coming home, even if he wanted to tell them. But I am certain he did not have it easy upon his return home. I have heard tales of alcoholism, drugs, crazy and stupid stunts. People spitting on veterans, calling them baby-killers. So many things that the civilians here did not know that happened there. So many protestors not taking the time to realize that it was the very soldiers they spat upon that ensured they had their right to protest, their right to free speech. He and my mother were divorced, and I get different stories from my mother, my grandmother and even my god-father, about what my father was like and the things he did. I have enven heard a story of him trying to force my mother, and little baby me in her car, off the road with his car. But, I know one thing. My father, for all of his faults and problems, was a dedicated, loyal and brave Marine who did his duty in wartime, even to the point of disobeying orders in order to do what he thought was right and necessary. For that, I have to say he is my hero. even though I was not old enough to truly know him when he died, I can say I love him and I am who I am because of the influence he still had over my life despite his absence. My own war stories are pretty boring. I was in a Kentucky Army National Guard Military Police company activated to go to the Persian Gulf in 1991. We spent our first two months in the desert pulling Battlefield Circulation and Control along an 80 mile stretch of Main Supply Route just an hour's drive south of the Iraqi border. During that time, there were over 120 American deaths from traffic accidents along that stretch of highway; I don't even want to guess how many civilians of various countries were killed. I spent most of my time in a tent acting as the dispatcher for a platoon of MP's while they patrolled the road and the desert around it. My job involved a lot of radio calls for Medevac helicopters and ambulances to respond to TA's and other accidents. I remember one call involving the collision of two tractor-rigs, one hauling an M1A1 Abrams main battle tank. When the two trucks, one driven by Phillipinos, the other by Egyptians, the trailer with the tank kept going. The momentum on 80 tons of metal is hard to stop. Nineteen people were killed in just that one accident. There are others that I remember, others I heard about from other platoons, other accidents that were had to respond to that did not involve vehicles. But, there were a lot of deaths along that stretch of highway. No, I never got a chance to show my true mettle in war. After those first two months in the desert, we spent two minths pulling Garrison Duty in Riyadh, guarding the Army side of the base there, and acting as General Schwarzkoff's security. After that, we were shipped off to Dammam Port, guarding the docks and assisting the Coast Guard as they guarded the water; we even had our own Untouchables, a group of MP's pulled to go out and find the local "moonshiners" and put them out of business (Saudi Arabia is an alcohol-free country). Then, we spent two months on Garrison Duty at King Khalid Military City, policing our troops there and acting as Liaisons with the Saudi troops living there. A little over eight months in the war-zone, and only three people had fired a shot; one of which was an accidental discharge. It wasn't until after I returned home, about three years, that I got my chance to show my own heroism. Not that I set out to be a hero. I just saw something happening that was not right and I stepped up to take a stand against it. That stand cost me my apartment, the hearing in my right ear, and nearly my life. I am not a "fighter" or a "scrapper". Violence is something I abhor. But, I'm not above using it or getting involved in it should I have to. Nor am I above killing should it be necessary to save a life. I lost a lot that day, but I did what I felt was needed and would not hesitate to step up again today. I would just be smarter about it. So, remember, folks, even those of you not living in the United States but still living in the "Free World", you are able to wake up everyday and go about living your lives because of soldiers who are willing to put their lives on the line for those of you who cannot or will not do so for yourselves. There is an inherent nobility in being a soldier that crosses the boundaries of class, economics, politics and religion. Nobility is not in a birthright. It is not in a title. It is not in wealth. Or fame. it is the heart. It is in the spirit. It is in the sacrifice for the lives and well-being of others. So, I want everyone of you who read this blog to thank every veteran you meet today, and everday. Thank them. Hug them. Tell them you love them and are grateful to them for their sacrifice. Whether they have seen combat or not, in a war-zone or at home, peacetime or wartime, they are there to ensure that you have your right to "Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness". Remember that those rights were not bought with money. They were not given as a gift. They were paid for in blood, sweat and tears by soldiers. Freedom is not free. And it is the Soldier, the Sailor, the Airman and The Marine, citizens all, who pay that price for you.

I never dreamed that slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect. I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close! . I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle; but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened; and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular. He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing... I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands; and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of! a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for; and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared, and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in - well, I just plain screamed. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration, I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices; but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle. My brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time, the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death); and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment); so her front end started to drop. Now, picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now, the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally, I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked - sort of. Spectacularly sort of ...so to speak. Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly, a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throw! was a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams. They weren't mine. I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car. So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car, but it was all his. I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And awhole lot of Band-Aids. << Back

MSNBC.com -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Still no plea deal from Vick amid grisly details QB implicated in funding operation, killing dogs; Falcons owner surprised The Associated Press Updated: 11:07 a.m. ET Aug 18, 2007 RICHMOND, Va. - It’s up to Michael Vick now. His last two co-defendants pleaded guilty Friday and implicated Vick in bankrolling gambling on dogfights. One of them said the Atlanta Falcons quarterback helped drown or hang dogs that didn’t do well. With his NFL career in jeopardy and a superseding indictment adding more charges in the works, that left Vick with a hard choice: Cutting his own deal to hold jail time under a year or go to trial and sit through detailed descriptions of the ghastly operation known as “Bad Newz Kennels.” Falcons owner Arthur Blank said Vick’s attorneys were negotiating with prosecutors as of late afternoon, trying to hammer out a plea deal. “It seems to be a pretty clear indication there will be some sort of plea entered,” Blank said before the Falcons preseason game at Buffalo. “When? I’m not positive.” Quanis Phillips of Atlanta and Purnell Peace of Virginia Beach entered plea agreements and agreed to testify against Vick. A third member of the dogfighting ring, Tony Taylor, struck a similar deal last month. One of Vick’s attorneys, Lawrence Woodward, attended the plea hearings but declined to answer questions about the progress of the negotiations as he left the courthouse. “Did you conspire with these folks to sponsor a dogfighting venture?” U.S. District Judge Henry Hudson asked Peace. “Yes, sir,” he replied. As part of his plea agreement, Phillips signed a statement that said Vick joined in executing at least eight dogs that didn’t do well in test fights by various methods, including hanging and drowning. “Phillips agrees and stipulates that these dogs all died as a result of the collective efforts of Peace, Phillips, and Vick,” the statement said. (Read Peace's statements on executing of dogs (pdf file); and Phillips'). Phillips and Peace also backed up Taylor’s assertion that Vick was involved in gambling. “The ‘Bad Newz Kennels’ operation and gambling monies were almost exclusively funded by Vick,” according to statements by the two men. Those allegations alone could trigger a lifetime ban under the NFL’s personal conduct policy. Blank accused Vick of lying to the owner and NFL commissioner Roger Goodell when they first questioned the quarterback about the allegations. “It’s just very sad,” Blank said. “It’s sad that those allegations exist and now they are confirmed by others. It’s sad that Michael has put himself into that kind of situation. It’s his responsibility for putting himself into that situation.” Goodell has barred Vick from the Falcons’ training camp but has withheld further action while the league conducts its own investigation. NFL spokesman Greg Aiello said the league had no comment on the latest pleas. Blank said he was stunned by the charges made against Vick by his co-defendants. “It’s distressing after six years spending time with somebody, you think you know them and then there’s another side that is shocking to all of us,” the owner said. “Those statements of facts don’t match up with what the league was told, even our organization, and certainly not was said to the commissioner. So we’ll have to see what comes out in this plea and deal with the facts as soon as we have them.” Vick's problems don't end with the federal case. The Atlanta Journal-Consitution newspaper reported that Virginia state officials plan to prosecute the star for an imal cruelty and dogfighting. "The execution of these animals — and the manner in which they were executed — is startlingly offensive and demanding of prosecution," Virginia Commonwealth Attorney Gerald Poindexter said. Peace and Phillips pleaded guilty to the same charge facing Vick: conspiracy to travel in interstate commerce in aid of unlawful activities and conspiracy to sponsor a dog in an animal fighting venture. Sentencing was set for Nov. 30. The offense is punishable by up to five years in prison and a $250,000 fine. The men will get credit for accepting responsibility and cooperating with the government but would be penalized for animal brutality. Peace remains free until sentencing, but Hudson found that Phillips violated the terms of his release by failing a drug test and ordered him jailed. About 30 animal-rights activists protested quietly outside the courthouse. Afterward, as police officers cleared the scene, protesters continued waving large pictures of a mutilated dog. “This is one dogfighting ring that’s been annihilated,” said John Goodwin, a spokesman for the Humane Society of the United States. The four defendants all initially pleaded not guilty, and Vick issued a statement saying he looked forward to clearing his name. The case began in April with a search of Vick’s property in Surry County, a few miles from Vick’s hometown of Newport News. Investigators seized dozens of pit bulls, some of them injured, and equipment typically used in dogfighting operations. The four men were indicted July 17. As if he didn’t have enough troubles, Vick was cited for not wearing a seat belt when a car he owned was pulled over Thursday by Virginia state troopers. The officer stopped the car because the tint on the windows was too dark, state police Sgt. D.S. Carr said. The Vick-owned vehicle was being driven by someone else when pulled over in Isle of Wight County. The driver was cited for the tint and Vick was slapped with a $25 fine for not wearing his seat belt. There are no court costs, and Vick doesn’t have to go to court. “He can prepay it if he wants to,” Carr said. © 2007 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. URL: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20253462/ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MSN Privacy . Legal © 2007 MSNBC.com

Well, Cia has gone.  And that is a sad thing.  It has been a very interesting time for the two of us.  Now, to explain why.....
She got here Friday around three in the afternoon.  I was already there, waiting and watching.  When I saw her waiting to get her bag from the bus, I tried to get pictures of her before she knew about them; they did not turn out.  I have to say that she gives really good hugs.  We hugged for a very long time before finally walking around downtown Louisville.  She kept telling me that it was "surreal" finally being here.
She seemed to really like the city, what she saw of it in the short time we were there before heading to my place, where she got to meet my roomies.  As we were talking and what-not, my mother showed up to drop off my mephew for the night, the roommates not having informed me that he was staying the night before they went out.....
Saturday, we woke up early and made sure Cia had coffee before I went to pick up my son and soem breakfast from McDonald's.  She seemed to like the McGriddles sandwich.  Anyway, news of the Queen being in town for the Derby kinda ruined the idea for her, so we took my son and nephew to see Spider-Man 3.  I hafta say she was really good with the boys; she had them laughing and giggling and we were all acting silly.  Well, we were out past the time my mom was going to pick up my nephew, so I called her and she mets us.  We all went to Mark's Feed Store, a restaurant known for it's barbecue dishes, then went to a park for awhile.  More fun was had with the kids and my mother.  Afterwards, we came back to my place and chatted some more.
Sunday went by fairly quickly.  We took my nephew on a tour of Cavehill Cemetary after getting soem food at a rather large and nice-looking Kentucky fried Chicken restaurant (come on... she couldn't come here without eating at one).  We were going to hang out with some friends of mine, but they weren't getting together until late and I had to be at work at 5 am on Monday.  Instead, she bought dinner for us and the roommates and we rented a movie called Missing in America, with Danny glover, Linda Hamilton and Ron Perlman.  Not a bad movie for one that neither of us had heard of before.  And more chatting until all hours.
After three hours of sleep, I woke up and went to work.  After work, we went out to Knob Creek Gun range with my mother.  After a short course in safety, how to aim and how to fire, we took soem time to do some shooting.  The guy in one of the lanes next to us, in a Fire-and-Rescue shirt, had a pistol with a silencer.  That would be the first time even I had seen and heard a silencer in use.  There were several people there sighting rifles, shooting pistols, even a guy with a fully automatic AK assault rifle.  Cia was amazed when a guy  and hois wife brought their four kids, ages 10 to 13, for some shooting time.  A real family affair.  Turned out I had served with him in the Persian Gulf.  So, I took time to chat with him about the reunion coming up in 2011.
Tuesday...  I kinda don't remember it much.  Again, three hours of sleep, into work early.  I do remember staying up fairly late again chatting and lounging around in my room.
I was off Wednesday, and we spent the day touring downtown Louisville.  After a late lunch, we went into the artsy/alternative part of town known as The Highlands, the part of town that ends at Cavehill Cemetary.  Kind of an appropriate area for a woman from Scotland to visit.LOL  Unfortunately, a combination of a big meal and the heat made me start to feel ill.  We came back to the apartment and Cia decided to try to nurse me back to health.  No, you pervs.  She did not put on that cute nurse's outfit....  Dammit!
Thursday, I had to be at work at 5 am again, and I was not home when she left out for the airport.  Which both sucks and was a good thing.  I wanted to see her off, but I think it would have been very emotional for the both of us.  But, we did a little texting on our cell-phones, so we got our "good-byes" in, and she told me she was thrilled because Tony Blair is stepping down as British Prime Minister.
On a side note, yesterday, we saw soem protesters but didn't really feel like finding out what they were protesting.  Turns out that a restaurant owner, on Friday night after the Oaks race, refused service to O J Simpson.  Apparently, O J is intending to sue for "racial discrimination".  The restaurant owner claims that he believes thet O J has been tormenting the families of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman with his antics-such as his attempt at publishing his book, If I Did It, Here's How It Happened.  Supposedly, five minutes after O J left, Michael Jordon came in and he and his party of thirty were seated and served immediately.  So, Wednesday, the Reverend Louis Coleman decided to stage a protest outside of the restaurant and we happened to walk close enough to see it.
Most of the pictures of us were taken with her camera or her phone and she didn't get the time to download them before leaving this morning.  I will be downloading more pictures that I have taken of some of the sites she got to see.....
Okay, now I am sure that everyone is wanting to know the "DIRT" of what happened.  All the juicy stuff that I have left out.  Well, I will not go into full details, but, let's just say that our chats involved a lot of heart-felt conversation about feelings and what we want out of our respective lives.

 

Game is on. Describe me in one word.... just one single word. Send it to me and to me only. Then send this message to all your friends and see how many strange & interesting things they say about you. Here's how: 1. Hit the reply key and send me my one word. 2. Then return to this message, and forward it to your friends, (including me) and see what people say about you when limited to one word. Game On !!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JnylM1hI2jc