Saturday, May 31, 2014

WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND

WHAT YOU SOW THAT ALSO SHALL YOU REAP.


Matthew 5:38-39

Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:
But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.


(A work in progress.)

THE CAVEMAN DIET

Looking for a diet that will stave off cancer, cardiovascular disease, high blood pressure, obesity, osteoporosis, and type 2 diabetes? Then this is the diet for you. Simple, easy to follow, and frees your body of toxins producing an efficient human specimen. I came across this one and decided to share.

The Paleolithic (Paleo or Caveman) diet consists mainly of fish, grass-fed pasture-raised meats, eggs, vegetables, fruit, fungi, roots, and nuts, and excludes what are perceived to be agricultural products: grains, legumes, dairy products, potatoes, refined salt, refined sugar, and processed oils. 

Since the end of the Paleolithic period, several foods that we humans rarely or never consumed during previous stages of our evolution have been introduced as staples in our diet. 

With the advent of agriculture and the beginning of animal domestication roughly 10,000 years ago, during the Neolithic Revolution, humans started consuming large amounts of dairy products, beans, cereals, alcohol, and salt. 

In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, the Industrial Revolution led to the large-scale development of mechanized food processing techniques and intensive livestock farming methods, which enabled the production of refined cereals, refined sugars, and refined vegetable oils, as well as fattier domestic meats, which have become major components of Western diets.

Such food staples have fundamentally altered several key nutritional characteristics of the human diet since the Paleolithic era, including glycemic load, fatty acid composition, macronutrient composition, micronutrient density, acid-base balance, sodium-potassium ratio, and fiber content.

These changes in composition of our diet have been theorized as risk factors in the pathogenesis of many of the so-called diseases of civilization and other chronic illnesses that have dramatically increased in prevalence since the end of World War II, including obesity, cardiovascular disease, high blood pressure, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis, autoimmune diseases, colorectal cancer, myopia, acne, depression, and diseases related to vitamin and mineral deficiencies.

Feel like it's time to get back to basics? Here's what to eat and what not to eat on this diet:

EAT:
Grass-produced meats
Fish/seafood
Fresh fruits and veggies
Eggs
Nuts and seeds
Healthful oils (Olive, walnut, flaxseed, macadamia, avocado, coconut)


DON’T EAT:
Cereal grains
Legumes (including peanuts)
Dairy
Refined sugar
Potatoes
Processed foods
Salt
Refined vegetable oils

TIPS TO MAKE THE PALEO DIET A ROUTINE PART OF YOUR LIFESTYLE:

For breakfast, make an easy omelet. Sauté onion, peppers, mushrooms, and broccoli in olive oil; add omega-3-enriched or free-range eggs and diced turkey or chicken breast.

Paleo lunches are easy. At the beginning of the week, make a huge salad with anything you like. A good starting point can be mixed greens, spinach, radishes, bell peppers, cucumbers, carrots, avocadoes, walnuts, almonds and sliced apples or pears. Store the salad in a large sealable container. Each morning prepare a single serving from the large batch and then mix in meat (ground beef, beef slices, chicken, turkey, ground bison, pork chunks, etc.) or seafood of choice (salmon, shrimp, tuna, or any fresh fish or seafood). Toss with olive oil and lemon juice and you are set.

For dinner, try spaghetti squash as a substitute for any pasta recipe. Top with pesto, marinara and meatballs. Roasted beets and their greens make a great side dish for pork. Asparagus, broccoli, and spinach can be steamed quickly. Salmon, halibut, or other fresh fish filets grill well with accompanying foil packs full of cut veggies with olive oil and garlic.

Berries and other succulent fruits make a great dessert. Pre-cut carrot and celery sticks, sliced fruit, and pre-portioned raw nut/dried fruit mixes are easy snacks.


Breakfast: Omega-3 or free ranging eggs scrambled in olive oil with chopped parsley. Grapefruit, or any fresh fruit in season, herbal tea

Snack: Sliced lean beef, fresh apricots or seasonal fruit

Lunch: Caesar salad with chicken (olive oil and lemon dressing), herbal tea

Snack: Apple slices, raw walnuts

Dinner: Tomato and avocado slices; grilled skinless turkey breast; steamed broccoli, carrots, and artichoke; bowl of fresh blueberries, raisins, and almonds; one glass white wine or mineral water. You are allowed to consume three non-Paleo meals per week.

***

Please follow the links below to inform yourself of the importance of vitamin B12.

For more information just click on the links below.


www.thepaleodiet.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paleolithic_diet
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitamin_B12_deficiency
http://www.webmd.com/food-recipes/guide/vitamin-b12-deficiency-symptoms-causes
http://www.health.harvard.edu/blog/vitamin-b12-deficiency-can-be-sneaky-harmful-201301105780
http://1000wordserless.blogspot.ca/2014/03/about-food.html




THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

We were visiting our uncle and aunt in Robinson’s Jct. and since my mother didn’t like to drive at night, she told me to find my younger brother so that we could head home before dark; he had disappeared shortly after dinner.

Since a scan of my uncle’s property showed no sign of him, I headed straight for the path that led to the river.   The path was narrow and alders kept smacking my face; I heaved a sigh of relief when I got to the airy open space of the river.  Within a few minutes of walking along the riverbank, I started to see a gray figure ahead, and as I approached I could clearly see it was him; the hat, bush jacket, faded jeans… yep, that was him alright.

As I got closer to him I began to feel uneasy.  The day was turning into night and the sky seemed to take on an eerie quality.  There was no one else in sight and there was a dead calm.  Even the sound of the river seemed to dissipate.  The saliva in my mouth dried up causing a lump to form in my throat.

Phonse seemed like a drunken man, he was staggering back and forth and his body was bent in an odd shape.  His hat fell off his head and I could hear him grunt and moan.  His arms were tight against his body, bent at the elbows; I couldn’t see his forearms or his hands.

My heart raced as panic set in, and I began to run.  When I finally got to him, I found him soaking wet and clutching his trout rod with everything he had.  The rod was bent in a u-shape, with the tip of the rod almost touching the reel, and at the end of the rod was the biggest salmon I had ever seen!

It was over three feet long and over a foot wide.  It was wriggling like an alligator, twisting and turning, fighting with all its might to get away, and splashing water everywhere.  There were scars around its gills and snow-white underbelly.  

Phonse had caught it in the main river and had managed to land it in a pool of knee-deep water beside the rapids.

My initial reaction was to jump in, but one move toward it might make it produce one last burst of strength causing the line to break.

“I can’t hold it much longer; the line’s not strong enough!”  He had been tackling with it for some time, but the salmon showed no sign of giving up.  “Jump in and grab it!”

Without hesitation, I went in.  Phonse pulled on the line one last time and gave it a good tug, hoping he could get it out of the pool and away from the water.  I reached in and tried to grip it around its gills, but I couldn’t even get my hands around it.  The line snapped, and in my last attempt to grab it, I fell into the water.  The fish jumped out of the pool and into the rapids.

Phonse was disappointed, but he knew there would be many other days of fishing to come, and many more fish like that one.


He currently lives in New Brunswick where there are many places to fish, including the Miramichi River. He fishes every chance he gets, and still remembers the one that got away.




Monday, May 26, 2014

HOW TO ACCEPT CORRECTION


Webster’s defines criticism as: the act of expressing disapproval and of noting the problems or faults of a person or thing, the act of criticising someone or something, the activity of making careful judgments about the good and bad qualities of books, movies, etc.

Webster’s defines correction as: a change that makes something right, true, accurate, etc., the act of making something (such as an error or a bad condition: accurate or better, the act of correcting something, the act or process of punishing and changing the behavior of people who have committed crimes.

We all need correction in our lives and there is nothing shameful about needing to be corrected when you do something wrong, it doesn’t mean that you are a failure. When people give correction try to focus on how difficult it must be for them to do it and how loving it is for them to give advice. 

Correction is essential for growth. It gives you insight into how you are perceived by others and helps you to curb negative traits that you may not even know you have developed.

A person who dismisses correction is like a pilot who ignores direction from the control tower. The result can be disastrous.

Criticism can hurt, but you have to try and remember that the person who gives it wants you to be the best that you can be. The person who gives the correction or criticism is only trying to help you be the best person that you can be.

Everyone makes mistakes, no person is perfect, try to appreciate when people tell you when you are wrong, and they may know something you do not. Every day is a learning process and potential for making mistakes is always there because life is a learning process and you will stumble, but wouldn’t it be nice if you didn’t always fall because someone corrected you previously?

When someone corrects you try to look at the matter objectively. You might be inclined to take offense at the correction. But try to put your feelings aside. To help you do that, take yourself out of the situation for a moment and imagine that you are giving the same correction to someone else. Now put yourself back into the situation and try to view the matter the same way. 

Sometimes you can get so upset over the criticism that you forget that this person was trying to help you become a better person, not trying to hurt your feelings. The correction that hurts the most may be the correction that you need the most.

Do not let pride cause you to reject the correction. On the other hand, do not allow yourself to become overwhelmed with discouragement just because you have something to work on. Humility will help you to avoid either extreme. Remember: The correction that hurts the most may be the correction that you need the most. If, for whatever reason, you reject it, you miss out on a valuable opportunity to grow.

Accepting correction is an important part of becoming a mature adult. If we don’t learn to take it and grow from it, we hurt ourselves in the long run.

Even if you find the correction difficult to accept, why not express your gratitude to the person who gave it? Undoubtedly, that person has your best interest at heart and truly wants you to succeed. 

You can never go wrong with saying thanks, especially if you needed the counsel. Even if you didn’t, you can be gracious and express thanks for the effort the person took to approach you.

Jehovah's Witness

Saturday, May 17, 2014

WOMEN OVER FORTY

As I grow in age, I value women who are over forty most of all. Here are just a few reasons why: 

A woman over forty will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, “What are you thinking?”  She doesn’t care what you think. 

If a woman over forty doesn’t want to watch the game, she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it’s usually something more interesting. 

A woman over forty knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of forty give a hoot what you might think about her or what she’s doing. 

Women over forty are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won’t hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it. 

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it’s like to be unappreciated. 

A woman over forty has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn’t trust the guy with other women. Women over forty couldn’t care less if you’re attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won’t betray her. 

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over forty. They always know. 

A woman over forty looks good wearing bright-red lipstick. This is not true of younger women. 

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over forty is far sexier than her younger counterpart. 

Older women are forthright and honest. They’ll tell you right off if you are a jerk, if you are acting like one! You don’t ever have to wonder where you stand with her. 

Yes, we praise women over forty for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of forty-plus, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some twenty-two-year-old waitress. 

Ladies, I apologize. For all those men who say, “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free,” here’s an update for you. Now 80 percent of women are against marriage, why? Because women realize it’s not worth buying an entire pig, just to get a little sausage.







Andy Rooney knew women. Maybe he didn't always, but he caught on. 

It's so true what you said about women over forty not giving a darn about what men think, heck, we don't give a darn about anything once we pass a certain age. We are too busy to care. We've seen and heard all the BS, nothing impresses us anymore, we just do what we gotta do with the time we have.

I have been living with a man for almost 20 years and there was only one time that I actually sat down and watched a game with him, but usually I don't care about sports, I am not interested in sports, and I do not play sports. Yes, Andy, we do have other interesting stuff to do.

Only recently, I realized what I wanted and where I should be putting my best effort. For me, I have spent so much time looking, I didn't see what was right in front of me. I believe most women find their niche over forty.

Andy, if I could get away with murder, I would put a bullet in his head.

And about what you said about not being appreciated. Wow! You hit the motherload. Why just the other day when I was out running errands, I got in a conversation with a fellow shopper and that person gave me the best compliment anyone could ever give a woman: ..."you look 36-37..."  That's 10 years younger than my actual age. I was so overwhelmed, I cried. (Thank goodness for Mother's Day.)

You are so right about women over forty being psychic. We do see right through the BS. We have infinite experience.

Our wrinkles show all the weight of the world. 

And, yes, we are done with taking the heat. 

Thanks for all your hard work and dedication, Andy.

Andrew Aitken "Andy" Rooney (January 14, 1919 – November 4, 2011) was an American radio and television writer. He was best known for his weekly broadcast "A Few Minutes with Andy Rooney," a part of the CBS News program 60 Minutes from 1978 to 2011. His final regular appearance on 60 Minutes aired October 2, 2011. He died one month later, on November 4, 2011, at age 92.
(Wikipedia)

Friday, May 16, 2014

CASEY JAMESON

           Karen Haier pushed the folder across the table to the blond-haired, attractive, young girl sitting across from her. This blue-eyed girl was known to her peers as Casey Jameson, though Karen never got her real name, it didn’t matter; all Karen wanted was the girl’s talent.

Casey reached for the folder and opened the file’s contents: pictures, addresses, phone numbers, and a list of names of the people he knew, the places he frequented. She looked up at Karen and asked, “Why don’t you just hire a private investigator?”

“I looked into it,” Karen replied, “but the cost is way out of my budget, and I don’t know if he is seeing anybody for sure. Regardless, I can’t wait. I figure I could speed things up by doing it this way. I just need a few pictures. So when I told a friend of mine what I was thinking of doing, he told me about you and got me your number. He knows someone in your group.”

“Oh, who is it?" she inquired. 

“Do you know Angie Tate? I think her stage name is Nicky d’Angelo, her father is Italian, or so I’ve heard. My friend Paulie used to date her.” Karen took a sip of her coffee.

“Yes, I know her, nice girl. She’s also a good actor, so why didn’t you choose her?” 

“You just answered your own question, Casey. She’s a nice girl. And besides, you have assets that I can use.” Karen made googly eyes in the direction of Casey’s large breasts, and they both laughed. 

They carried on the conversation for another half hour and after careful consideration, Casey decided to do what Karen wanted. She didn’t have any acting gigs lined up and she really needed the money; her agent always kept in touch, if anything came up she would deal with it.  Since it was late and Karen had to get home to her son, they agreed to lunch the following day to discuss the plan further.

Karen went home and checked with her son to make sure he was getting ready for bed. He had just brushed his teeth and was waiting for her to get back. He was a teenager now and didn’t need much instruction or supervision, but he still like to be tucked in occasionally. This they both enjoyed and savored. She kissed him, they exchanged I love yous, and then she shut off the light and closed the door.

Parallel to her son’s door was her and her husband’s bedroom. The door was ajar and she peeked inside to see if he was sleeping. He was. She felt relieved. She made herself some herbal tea, took a lorazepam, and turned on the TV, these things always helped to switch off the brain chatter. After a while, she got drowsy and went to bed, being careful not to wake the sleeping bear. 

The next morning, Karen had the energy of a twenty year old instead of a forty year old. She got up early, got her son up and ready, and drove him to school. When she got back she cleaned the house, took care of the pets, and even did a load of laundry. She was on a roll, and the brain chatter was at bay.

It was nearly noon when Karen collected the laundry from the laundry room. She had to pee (nerves), then applied a little lip gloss and went to meet Casey.

“Nice place you picked.” Casey said, upon seeing Karen. “It’s very secluded.”

“Yah, thanks, I came across it one night while walking off my anger after a big argument with my husband. We used to live a few blocks down the street.” Karen sat down and got comfortable. 

The waiter came over and they ordered salads and green tea, then Karen started telling Casey the whole story from the beginning. She told her that her husband had seemed to be a loving partner in the beginning, but shortly after the marriage he had begun to drink. They had a son together and he seemed to be happy, but she started noticing that his drinking was getting out of hand and when she confronted him he became angry and violent. He had come home many times drunk and would hit her and try to knock around their son, but she would protect him. Several times she had called the police to take him away somewhere to sober up and he would come home the next day apologetic and regretful, saying that he wouldn’t do it anymore. She had gone to Al-Anon for support and she decided to leave him alone and she would concentrate on raising her son. Years went by and he drank his life away while she raised a child. He didn’t want to admit that he had a problem and after years of heavy drinking he developed Hepatitis and the doctor told him that if he didn’t quit drinking his liver would break down, causing cirrhosis and eventually cancer. 

Casey interrupted, “Did he quit drinking?”

“He tried. I think he really did try. I remember that day we came from the doctor. He said to me, ‘Gee, I musta drank a lot, eh?’

“I wanted to take my fist and drive it right between his two eyes, but then I felt so sorry for him, and I wanted him to get better. My son and I even had an intervention. One evening he came home after work, sober, and we made him choose, the bottle or your family.” Tears filled Karen’s eyes as she rummaged through her purse for tissue.

“So what happened? How did you get to this point?” Casey was curious but patient, and handed over the tissue that Karen couldn’t seem to find.

“Well, he quit for a while, but he started again, this time worse than before. We had a huge fight a couple of years back and I thought that would be the end. I had never before let it all out, but I did that day, and I screamed at him and I had made up my mind. I was leaving. But then, and this is the worse part, when I looked over at my son and saw the look on his face my heart sank. He was crushed. We had always tried to hide our fighting from him, but that time, I had had enough. I went over to him and took him out to the car and he cried, “I don’t want my parents to get divorced!”  I swear to you, Casey, I never saw him cry like that since he was a baby, the one time he fell and hit his head. It broke my heart. So I talked to him and I told him that sometimes parents fight, it doesn’t mean they are going to get divorced. I calmed him down then we went back upstairs where I spoke with that drunken idiot and explained to him the damage we were doing to our son, but I don’t think he cared. But anyway, we got through that and then things were going okay for a while, until the next time he came home, bouncing off the walls.”

“Jesus Christ, why did you stay with him?” 

“Believe me it wasn’t easy. I had spoken to so many people about what to do and I couldn’t figure it out. I was a damn fool to believe he would change. All I could think about was how I grew up without a father and I didn’t want my son to grow up without one. But then I had my sister-in-law telling me that what I was doing was worse. I felt the situation was hopeless. I couldn’t make it on my own, not with my salary, and welfare doesn’t give money to people with credit cards and brand new cars. I would have to sell everything I had and the money that I had in my bank account would be used up fast and then where would I be?”

Casey fell silent and allowed Karen time to compose herself. 

Karen wiped her tears, wiped her nose, and fell back in her chair.

“If it’s any consolation, Karen, I’ve heard and seen worse. My father was a drinker, too. Listen, how about we order a drink to help us get through?” They both laughed at that.

Karen nodded. “Yah, sure, let’s have something strong.” She pushed her uneaten salad aside.

Casey motioned to the waiter to come over and she ordered two whiskeys, straight up.

After a sip of the whiskey, Karen continued with her story. She told Casey that they had moved to a new apartment and that her mother-in-law had passed away from cancer. Karen told her that he hadn’t shown his feelings and after the funeral had started coming home later than usual. She went on to say that they had planned to go visit his Dad for Christmas, he lived in another province and they had to travel by plane. All arrangements for the flights and pets had been made and it was an enjoyable Christmas. She told Casey that her husband had gone home first and she and her son followed two days later. Her husband had picked up all the pets and did the grocery shopping before they had arrived. And a month later he had started cheating on her with the young girl who had taken care of their parrot over the Christmas holidays.

“That lousy son of a bitch! What a prick!” 
Casey was flabbergasted. “How did you find out?”

“I knew something was wrong, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. He was acting more strangely than usual, lying through his teeth, hiding his paystubs, coming home later in the evening and leaving earlier in the morning. Oh, he had a great knack for disappearing. I started investigating and rummaging through his things. One night while he was sleeping I crawled along the floor and grabbed his cell phone. Now, usually he would have it locked, but this time it wasn’t and I saw everything on the phone. I recognized the number and right away I knew.”

“So what did you do?” Casey came in closer, eyes wide with wonder.

“I went to find her and I beat the crap out of her.”

“Oh my gawd,” Casey said, “did she know it was you?”

Karen shifted in her seat and took a sip of her drink.

“Go on.” Casey was getting impatient.

“The next night I told my husband that I was going to the bingo. I knew where she worked, it’s how I found her in the first place. So I waited until the store closed and followed her home. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I was going to confront her that was for sure, so when she pulled off the main road, I parked my car and walked the rest of the way. She was just getting out of her car as I was walking up. It was dark. The street was dimly lit and there were no lights on in the house. Once I saw her I couldn’t hold back the rage burning inside me. She didn’t even see me coming. I grabbed her by the back of the hair and dragged her in the nearby bushes and when she tripped and fell down, I kicked her in the face, I kicked her in the stomach, and I never stopped until I knew she couldn’t get up.”

Casey was astounded. Her eyes were wide with shock, but yet a tinge of satisfaction rushed through her body. “And then?”

“And then I ran through the bushes, found my way back to the car, and sat there, trying to catch my breath. There was no traffic, so I was pretty sure no one had seen anything. I started up the car and drove for an hour, away from there. I stopped at a bar in the next town and had a couple of drinks. On my way back I stopped at MacDonald’s, got a burger and fries, and downed that to disguise the smell of liquor on my breath. When I got home, everyone was asleep.”

“Holy shit. Karen. Did you say anything to her when you were kicking her face in?” Casey asked.

“Are you kidding, I wasn’t thinking about anything, rage was at play. Of course, if I had been thinking straight, I probably would have just told her off, and threaten to tell her fiancé if she ever saw my husband again. But nothing ever goes as planned does it?” Karen heaved a big sigh, shook her head, and rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

“She was cheating on her boyfriend, her fiancé? What a bitch! So what happened after that? Did your husband ever find out about it? Did he hear from her again?”

“I could tell something was wrong, but he never said anything. I mean what would he say? He might have suspected that I found out about his little girlfriend, but I don’t think he ever found out about what I did. A few days later I read about her in the paper. She was fine, if you call a broken nose, missing teeth, and a few broken ribs fine. There were no leads and the police were treating it as random act of violence. A few weeks after that he started treating me better, saying he was going to quit drinking and he was going to go to AA. He started coming home early and spending more time with us. But then a few months later things just went to hell again.”

They were silent for a few minutes, each gathering their thoughts.

Karen started, “I can’t look at him, Casey. He disgusts me. I can’t get past this. I know I should’ve just confronted him and kicked his ass out, but I was just so devastated at his betrayal, I got scared that I couldn’t make it on my own, but I was wrong.  And I think that my son is old enough to understand now. I know we’ll be just fine.”

Casey took a deep breath in. “Well, okay, what would you like me to do, exactly?” 

“Like I said yesterday, I just need a few pictures of you and him, I don’t really care if you get him in bed or not, I’m not asking you to sleep with him, but if you can provide some naked photos of you two together then that’s better. You see, I let him off easy, way too easy, and I don’t want to have it said that the breakup was my fault.” Karen grabbed her purse. “You know how people think. Everyone thinks he is so nice, but nobody knows the hell I have been through.” 

“He usually gets off work around 2:30 pm, so all you have to do is be on the bus. Now, listen, I don’t need updates and I don’t think we have anything else to say to each other. Once I receive the pictures, I will e-transfer the money, and we can go on with our lives.” Karen raised her glass in a toast. “To all the women out there who need women like you, Casey Jameson.”

Casey raised her glass against Karen’s. There was a clink and both downed their whiskey. Karen smiled at her and walked away.

A month later, Karen got an unmarked package in the mail. She went to the bank and put it in her safety deposit box, then she e-transferred the money as promised.

Later than evening, Karen and her son had been watching Big Bang Theory when they heard a knock at the door. Karen went to answer.

“Mrs. Haier?” A police officer was standing in the doorway. Karen felt an immediate sense of panic.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Haier, your husband has been in an accident.” The officer held up her husband’s wallet and identification.

“I don’t understand. My husband is working a double shift tonight. Did he get hurt at work?”

“No Ma’am, he was found shot in a hotel room not far from his place of employment. I’m sorry Ma’am, he’s dead. Ma’am, you need to come with us.”

Karen’s son, who had been listening behind her, fell to his knees.

Karen called her friend Paulie to meet them at the police station, to be with her son while she spoke with the police. 

Karen told the investigator all she knew of Casey Jameson, since they had the file folder she had given Casey. Casey Jameson’s real name was Carrie Lowe and there was a warrant for her arrest. In the past year she had murdered three men, all under the same circumstances. The investigator told Karen that when Carrie had been a child she had been raped by her father and continued to be raped by him until she stabbed him to death and ran away when she was sixteen. 

“We know what you were trying to do; others have done the same thing. But she has such a deep hatred of men that she just ends up killing them. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?” The investigator did not judge Karen, and she would not be in trouble if she cooperated completely. 

“I don’t know. I had coffee with her, then lunch the next day, and that was it. She mailed me the photos and I paid her. That was our business. I didn’t know anything about her and she knew little of me, except what I told her about my husband. I only wanted some pictures.” Karen broke down. 

“Don’t blame yourself, Mrs. Haier; you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.” The investigator said she could go home, but not to leave town, and be available for an official statement. She took her son and went home. Paulie stayed with them, and helped them through. Karen couldn’t believe what had happened. She blamed herself. Instead of becoming divorced she was now a widow. 

                                                ***

Amanda Freeman pushed the folder across the table to the blond-haired, attractive, young girl sitting across from her. This blue-eyed girl was known to her peers as Candace Jansen, though Amanda never got her real name, it didn’t matter; all Amanda wanted was the girl’s talent.

Friday, May 9, 2014

DON'T BUY A NO! NO!

My son and I were watching the infomercial for the NO! NO! one night and when it was over we just looked at each other and laughed. 

"Yah, right!" my son piped up.

To which I replied, "I know, eh, how stupid do they think we are? Who's gonna buy such a thing? And what about the price? Really? Three hundred dollars for that!"

About a year later we were at the mall shopping and guess what? We went into that store where they sell all the stuff advertised on TV and saw the NO! NO! there and after the salesclerk gave us a demonstration we decided to buy it. And, yes, it did cost over three hundred dollars, the price just didn't go down at all. (I thought that was a good sign.)

We took it home and I tried it.

Now before I give you my ten cents on this little appliance let me tell you what you are supposed to do.

First, remove the cover and snap the Thermicon tip in place. Next, just charge it up and turn it on. You can tell it is on if the Status Screen is showing. Adjust the Treatment Level. Press the button under the status screen to adjust your treatment level. Always begin at the lowest treatment level and work your way up. The Treatment Level icon appears first then automatically switches to the Tip Status icon when you begin to glide. Check the icon to see what information is currently displayed.

Glide no!no! over your skin at a 90º angle with the roller flat against the skin and the status screen facing you. Glide in one direction in one slow, smooth motion. Glide upwards and towards your body, against the grain of hair growth. Keep the blue light steady. If it flickers, adjust your speed.

* The red light will turn on if you are not gliding properly. Simply restart your no!no! and let the blue light guide you. 

After you do that, you have to buff. For a smooth finish, hold the Buffer by the flaps and firmly rub in a circular or back-and-forth motion over the treated area. You use the provided buffer because, the manufacturer says, “without buffing, crystallized hair remains in place, giving your skin a prickly feel.”

Use a moisturizing lotion like no!no! Smooth After Treatment Cream after you no!no!

The claim to fame is that after using no! no! you can go weeks without shaving and it is painless and effective, but you have to use it about 60 days before you start seeing any results, even though on the TV commercial they tell you that you can see results right away.

Here's my ten cents:

Okay, so using the no! no! was no problem at all. It was very easy to use. The problem was that it wasn't even cutting, or "burning" any hair whatsoever. Every now and again though I did smell the burning of hair, but not with every stroke. And yes, I was using it properly, the thing just would not "catch" any hair. I used it on my face and neck, on my underarms, and on my legs, and got the same result. This thing they call a Thermicon tip is just a wire, attached to some plastic, that hovers just above the skin, so therefore, it does not and can not give you a "just waxed feeling" as they say on TV. It cannot touch the skin because it gets hot and will burn your skin. 

When I first used it I used up about an hour of my time (it would have taken me all of two minutes to shave my legs and underarms in the shower with a razor) to go over my face, underarms, and legs. You have to go over one stroke at least four times.

After using the no! no! you are supposed to smooth out the area using this circular piece of sponge with some very fine sand paper glued to it.  I still had hair on my legs in most places and stubble in a few places where the thing burned just the tips of the hair. I believe the buffer was buffing away more of the hair on my leg, and there is a product similar to this one that is designed for the face and works like sandpaper to remove the hair. 

The final step is to moisturize with this special moisturizer, which cost about fifty dollars. Need I say more?

All right, so the no! no! didn't really work as well as they said, but they did say to keep using it for about six weeks to see a result, so I used it 3-4 times a week on my face, underarms, and legs. I did not shave with a razor. After about a month, I had to shave my underarms, because I couldn't stand it any longer! The no! no! did not work at all for my underarms. Then I began to notice that the skin on my face started looking like snake skin. My skin was drying out even though I was using the recommended skin moisturizer. I was even using my regular moisturizers and keeping up with my same skin care regime. So, I stopped using the no! no! on my face and within a month my skin returned to normal. 

I kept using the no! no! on my legs once a week for four months then I gave up. It did not work at all. My legs remained hairy throughout that time.

After that I went online and perused the reviews and I did not find one reviewer who was satisfied with the product. Moreover, those who got their money back were those who demanded a refund, threatened to sue, and just kept calling for months until they finally got a refund.

At this point I don't know what I am going to do yet. I will definitely write a letter, but I doubt if I'll get my money back. Either way consider yourself warned. Don't waste your hard earned money like I did. 

Lesson learned.