Lets have a brief description of how you look visually - be honest - warts and all if you have them! Its nice to be able to picture someone your speaking to and sometimes you get it right. Lets see how this works out? I'm five foot three tall, size fourteen, blonde bob which really is grey but for the salon colour, green eyes and good teeth - no warts (had two removed last year) and at 56 most of the avatars pictures are too young for me and my daughter is trying to find a pic of an old bat! Grrrrrr!
How honest are you?
I'm going to be very honest
I'm 5'11, size 14, blonde hair (natural) in a short bob, my bum is way too big since having my daughter but i can't be bothered to exercise, used to be a slim size 12 but ate too much when i was pregnant and still haven't lost my baby weight, feel very unattractive and have no self confidence but my little girl and my partner love me regardless so it doesn't really matter!
Reply:Very honest
Reply:well yes i am very honest
Reply:I am 97% honest.
Reply:I'm honest (but how do you know I'm not lying?)
Reply:ok. i really do have red hair (but it's out of a bottle), i wear glasses (which i left off my avatar on purpose), i have blue eyes, and i'm dismally short!
Reply:I am same age dark brown hair not enough grey to warrant a colour (yet) vastly overweight (I am doing something about it) good teeth (thanks to my mum giving me free milk and vitamins in th 50s) lotts of laughter lines (due to having a fine outlook on life and being lucky enough to have had a lot of joy with my lot)my avatar is more like me 5-10 years ago but hey so is my passport photo its still me and I have always thought its what on the inside that matters
Reply:I'm 5 foot 5", my hair is actually blonde just now although it does change a lot! I wear glasses and am of average build (size 12) bit a button nose and big eyes. 24 years old.
Reply:I am 63 - have my own teeth - hair is dark bobbed (bottle) grey eyes - bit overweight really - good complexion - apparently look younger than I am and have young voice, no warts - short - yes avatars are too young for me as well - walk with a limp at the present time due to an accident - hospital apt at end of month to see if operation is needed.
Reply:how honest are you
Reply:This above all:
"to thine own-self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then, be false to any man.”
Reply:To be honest, I am very honest
Reply:lol...yeah they should update the avatars...they are all to lookey-likey which is why i use my own photo!
Anyhoo im really honest! Im 24 (25 in may-grrr), 5ft 8, size 12-14 (uk) as well so curvy! and thats my face so thats what i look like!
Reply:Yes I am honest, I'm 5ft 2 a size 8 to10 and was 50 on the 3rd of this month, I have bottle blond hair medium length that I put back over my ears, hair was jet black only started to go grey at 15 had streaks only that was torture so all blond now. My eyes are bright green and I have good teeth, my skin is fine I go on a sunbed twice a weeks for 6 mins my GP says fine as long as it is no more, not for a tan as I do cover my face a lot only it helps with severe arthritis in the right side of my face and my knees. I have a few health problems and am thankful each morning that I wake and am OK. I have wrinkles, some say I don't look my age, I feel it. I have pics on my 360. In the summer and this IS the truth I get lots of beeps from cars from the back but very few from the front. I would do anyone a good deed and am very caring, I'm a bad liar so I don't tell them.
Reply:Er, 5ft 4, size 12 (with a very large bump at the moment - his name is Caleb lol). Blonde, midlength hair, champagne blonde - natural so very lucky!! Green/grey eyes, teeth are OK I suppose, nothing to moan about. Erm....also no warts :-S lol.
I did have my pic up, but the wee man deserved his turn to be famous!!
Reply:Totally honest.
Reply:I'm very honest!
I'm 21, 5ft7 size 8/10, I have longish dark hair and blue eyes
lol no warts on me either!
I do use my picure as my avatar sometimes
Reply:I think youre being too honest Helen S .................(shudders)
Reply:I'm 63 short fat and a helluva tap dancer..
Reply:lmao Helen you do not get much more honest than that, Definately worthy of a star.
I try to be as honest as I can, say what I think and if people do not like it oh well such is life
Re the avator thing I agree, thats why for me its Calvin and Hobbes all the way
Reply:I'm honest i go to high school love a guy in ma class i have NEVER permanently colored my hair (Only spray in wash out that day hairspray). I love Zac in ma class.. I have moved 3 times. I have moved school 4 times and ma favorite subject at school is SOSE. I love sci-fiction mainly firefly,stargate SG1 and Atlantis and farscape. and ma favorite actor is Claudia Black. and lots lots more to much to list
Reply:37, over weight (though working on it), I have a haircut that makes me look like a Nazi football hooligan. I am 6ft tall.
I smoke which means that I also smell of cigarette smoke. I have hazel eyes, and not bad skin.
Reply:i'm 5' 7", size 12, blonde flicky out hair (like my avatar) - but i am around 30yrs older than my avatar. my boobs are great though...i had cosmetic surgery on them..so thats the best part of my 50yr old body!. lol!
Reply:I am very honest. Honesty is the best policy.
Reply:Hi Helen S. I'm 48, 5'9 1/2" tall. I am a size 16. (US system) I have blonde hair, green eyes. Yes I have some gray also, which I keep highlighted. No warts, but a few freckles on my arms and legs, nothing too bad. My teeth are pearly white, and yes they are my natural ones...lol. I'm sure I look a little older than my avatar also, but thank goodness I don't look like an old woman...yet. LOL
The eye shapes and the hair resemble me closely.
Reply:I have just turned 51,curly hair, going grey around the temples, decided to let it grow after years of it being very short. Truth be told, I met my brother who used to call me names because of my hair, and he is as bald as a coot!!. Who said there is no God!.
I have a goatee beard, still blond, very good skin and look younger than my years. Never smoked or sunbathed. Front tooth missing because I hit a steering wheel in a car accident and cannot find a NHS dentist in my area for love nor money.
Reply:very and has been my down fall
Reply:Red curly hair and green eyes. I'm 5'3".
Reply:very honest.. i admit to this, i lie everyday
Reply:im 44,blonde blue eyes,5ft4 an swear by oil of ulay lol
Reply:Silver hair, I'm 53, and am 5'4" tall, size 8, green eyes.
I vote for more avatar options how about you, Helen. And if Helen is your real name, that is one of the prettiest names there ever was. (..and I am being honest! lol)From the 50's on back it was popular, but seems since the 60's on it became less popular.
credit cards
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Is the composite resin used in dental bonding the same with the white fillings?
also, does bonded teeth look fake? i mean, can you tell the real teeth and the bonded part? it looks too good to be true in before and after pictures.
Is the composite resin used in dental bonding the same with the white fillings?
yes, it is the same, and no you shouldn't be able to tell. the only ways that you would know is if the dentist selected the wrong shade or they do a really shotty job. also if you are a heavy coffee drinker or a smoker, your "normal" part of your tooth will yellow and the bonding will stay the lighter color. also, if you whiten your teeth the bonding will not change color.
Reply:yes
Reply:There are several kinds of white fillings.
Composite fillings are also known as resin and/or plastic
This is the most common meaning of "white filling"
White fillings always look great going in and when done correctly in a dry field using the right materials are a fine solution for restoring a tooth. They do fail, everything we place has the potential for failure. When they fail it is usually noticable right away in the front of the mouth. When done in the back problems tend to get worse before they are caught so the failures tend to be more devastating to the patients pocket book and tooth.
There are also glass Ionomers and porcelain inlays.
good luck
Reply:yes
myspace images
Is the composite resin used in dental bonding the same with the white fillings?
yes, it is the same, and no you shouldn't be able to tell. the only ways that you would know is if the dentist selected the wrong shade or they do a really shotty job. also if you are a heavy coffee drinker or a smoker, your "normal" part of your tooth will yellow and the bonding will stay the lighter color. also, if you whiten your teeth the bonding will not change color.
Reply:yes
Reply:There are several kinds of white fillings.
Composite fillings are also known as resin and/or plastic
This is the most common meaning of "white filling"
White fillings always look great going in and when done correctly in a dry field using the right materials are a fine solution for restoring a tooth. They do fail, everything we place has the potential for failure. When they fail it is usually noticable right away in the front of the mouth. When done in the back problems tend to get worse before they are caught so the failures tend to be more devastating to the patients pocket book and tooth.
There are also glass Ionomers and porcelain inlays.
good luck
Reply:yes
myspace images
Will there still be gaps after the braces is complete?
had my 4 of my teeth removed today and im getting braces soon. i was wondering, after my braces are complete will there still be gaps? because when i smile now, i can see the gaps...and yes i know the teeth will shift because my teeth are crowded, but im pretty sure there will still be gaps no? unless the back molars move too. sorry if im not making sense, im only 16=)
here are pictures the show the gap
http://img519.imageshack.us/img519/2745/...
http://img338.imageshack.us/img338/6044/...
http://img519.imageshack.us/img519/3263/...
Will there still be gaps after the braces is complete?
Your orthodontist recommended you have the 4 teeth out because you have small jaws with over crowding. Especially around the front area. When the braces go on, your orthodontist will use those gaps to spread your teeth around so they can all fit in. At the end you will have a full set of teeth to chew and no gaps anywhere. The spaces are vital for your treatment so dont worry, there wont be any gaps by the end of your braces treatment. Make sure you wear your retainers very well after the braces come off to ensure no gaps open up. Once you stop growing (usually by early 20's) the teeth settle.
Reply:no there will not be any gaps I've had personal experience
Reply:If there are, you can always get fake teeth. My that happened to a really good friend of mine and she has a gorgeous smile, but she is getting fake teeth soon to cover up the gaps. it all depends on the orthodontist you use, i suppose.
Reply:There will probably be no gap after they are done. You will probably have to have them on longer than normal but the results will be great!!!
Reply:I'm assuming you're talking about when you get the braces off? I couldn't really understand that, but anyways....When you take them off there shouldn't be any gaps, i think that's part of the point of having braces anyways. Just make sure you brush your teeth as often as possible (like after every meal) or you'll have spots on your teeth when you take the braces off.
I know a girl who went through that and unfortunatly she has these big white spots on her teeth.
girls myspace
here are pictures the show the gap
http://img519.imageshack.us/img519/2745/...
http://img338.imageshack.us/img338/6044/...
http://img519.imageshack.us/img519/3263/...
Will there still be gaps after the braces is complete?
Your orthodontist recommended you have the 4 teeth out because you have small jaws with over crowding. Especially around the front area. When the braces go on, your orthodontist will use those gaps to spread your teeth around so they can all fit in. At the end you will have a full set of teeth to chew and no gaps anywhere. The spaces are vital for your treatment so dont worry, there wont be any gaps by the end of your braces treatment. Make sure you wear your retainers very well after the braces come off to ensure no gaps open up. Once you stop growing (usually by early 20's) the teeth settle.
Reply:no there will not be any gaps I've had personal experience
Reply:If there are, you can always get fake teeth. My that happened to a really good friend of mine and she has a gorgeous smile, but she is getting fake teeth soon to cover up the gaps. it all depends on the orthodontist you use, i suppose.
Reply:There will probably be no gap after they are done. You will probably have to have them on longer than normal but the results will be great!!!
Reply:I'm assuming you're talking about when you get the braces off? I couldn't really understand that, but anyways....When you take them off there shouldn't be any gaps, i think that's part of the point of having braces anyways. Just make sure you brush your teeth as often as possible (like after every meal) or you'll have spots on your teeth when you take the braces off.
I know a girl who went through that and unfortunatly she has these big white spots on her teeth.
girls myspace
Pure himalayan?
Heres some pictures of my cat.
is he pure himalayan or mixed with some other breed too.
http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn34/...
http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn34/...
http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn34/...
%26amp;he has a massive over bite, kinda like buck teeth.
it was like that when i got him and im concerned it makes it harder for him to eat.
but also he has very long teeth.
Pure himalayan?
he looks more like a ragdoll Himalayans look like the cat on meet the parents almost like Persians
Reply:Beautiful cat.....How old is he?
He looks like he could be a Flamepoint Himalayan MIX. Most Himalayans have a "mashed in" face (Persian).
If this is a Himalayan / SIAMESE mix, that would account for the "regular head" and the blue eyes, too. Himalayans have blue eyes, and so do Siamese, so that would give him "double" blue-eye genes.
I raised Siamese / Himalayan kittens for over 14 years, and that's my opinion.........
Be sure to have him neutered, so he'll live a longer, healthier, happier (for both of you) life...no raging hormones, wanting out all the time, fighting with other toms, and spraying!!
Take good care of him........
acne scar
is he pure himalayan or mixed with some other breed too.
http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn34/...
http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn34/...
http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn34/...
%26amp;he has a massive over bite, kinda like buck teeth.
it was like that when i got him and im concerned it makes it harder for him to eat.
but also he has very long teeth.
Pure himalayan?
he looks more like a ragdoll Himalayans look like the cat on meet the parents almost like Persians
Reply:Beautiful cat.....How old is he?
He looks like he could be a Flamepoint Himalayan MIX. Most Himalayans have a "mashed in" face (Persian).
If this is a Himalayan / SIAMESE mix, that would account for the "regular head" and the blue eyes, too. Himalayans have blue eyes, and so do Siamese, so that would give him "double" blue-eye genes.
I raised Siamese / Himalayan kittens for over 14 years, and that's my opinion.........
Be sure to have him neutered, so he'll live a longer, healthier, happier (for both of you) life...no raging hormones, wanting out all the time, fighting with other toms, and spraying!!
Take good care of him........
acne scar
Does this narrative essay contain philosophical meaning and is it A,B,C,D, or F quality?
I am in 11th grade AP English Literature and would like to know if the essay seems appropriate for a coming of age narrative. Also: is it interesting, meaningful, does it bring any questions to mind, believable (in which it is a true personal narrative), clear, or descriptive? Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated, thank you.
A Wild Pack of Wolves
The surging air flowed freely from the gaping wound of a door behind me. A blanket of humidity greeted me now with a suffocating intoxication, quickly reminding me how nice the air-conditioned the department store had been. Trudging along, I began my exile through the parking lot to my car. I left the store behind me and filtered through other corpses that stick baked to the asphalt. My skin glistens and reflects the unforgiving yet naïve sun, the same light that gives the moon its shallow glow. The sun seemed to give this day an individual energy and reality, a true ecstasy giving a hope to those banished from the gaiety of life. Any other day I would have hurried to my car, but today I let the sun’s inescapable veracity sizzle and soak me through, as do novelties a consumer. The tint from inside the car induced the purging of what existed beyond the window from out of what withered inside. Bliss, no matter how much I thought I had wanted it, and tried to get, ended in misery. Who was I fooling; I’m no more human than a puppet that will dance with the flick of a social conformist’s wrist. It’s days like this one that the red curtain retreats before me, giving way to life’s actors who seem to dramatize the same play repeatedly while I watch and recite their next words. I could no longer eat of the apple in all its décor of waxy perfection while this picture hung vainly rotten before me like a day’s till. Is having never tasted the sweetness of truth worse than the infinite dream of a false beauty? I twisted the ignition and cranked the air-conditioning, drinking in my artificial air until I was hydrated enough to adjust to the new light of the car. I sat there, fleeing far from the recesses of the parking lot; from where I sat, I could quietly add up my whole life. However this is no more than what could be fitted inside the plastic bag that lay strewn across the adjacent seat. I sat and wondered about past memories, surfaced from spotting The Jungle Book inside the department store. I wondered, if the boy in the story had continued living with the wolves and lived a lie his whole life, would it be better or worse than living with humans. If his life continued with the wolves he would never know responsibility, love, or religion. On the other hand, is living with humans and knowing hate, jealousy, malice, and vanity better? The time for my innocence had come and left, ripped out of my cradle before I knew whom good, evil, Adam, or Eve was. As I drove away from all that wilderness of the parking lot, all the cries and howls of long ago seemingly transmuted into nothing more than the glimmers of light, reflecting from the stream of asphalt that grew longer, until it became nothing more than the infinite luminosity of the sun that trailed past the distant mountains.
“Travis…Travis…--oh there you are. Hello my name is Doctor Newton and I’ll be your doctor for the next couple of weeks. Now you just come right through this door and we’ll get started with our first session—O.K.?”
I nodded, leaving the quiet emptiness that can only come from a group of people each silently enduring the weekly pain of a not so anticipated doctors appointment. The only detectable manifestation of this pain was the occasional crinkle of a magazine page being turned. As I passed under the ominous arch of the doorframe overhead I prayed silently that I would never have to read any of those magazines again. Doctor Newton’s office was littered with pictures of babies crawling in diapers and clowns with face paint. One clown had a sad face painted on him with a single real tear on his cheek--only the tear had been caked down from all the paint.
A long pause passed before the doctor’s and my eyes met somewhere on her desk; I was sitting on some Playskool desk with paper and crayons.
“So…” the doctor said, “can you tell me why you are here today?”
Another pause passed by without a word. I questioned myself why I was here in the first place and also whether her question was entrapment. Finally, I answered, “I can’t really say, my dad wouldn’t tell me.”
After the brief conversing I was told to “draw a picture—any picture I wanted.”
So I began to draw the clown I saw earlier and a couple other familiar things. I drew for ten minutes and she complimented me on the art. I began to take quick glances at her eyes, for they said what we both knew but only one of us would admit. I wanted to leave. I could feel a stinging pain on the back of my eyes and a queasy sensation in my abdomen.
Doctor Newton cracked the edges of her lips, paused and finally asked, “How do you feel about your mother?”
I uttered silently, “I don’t know—fine I guess.”
“You don’t have any problems you want to share--you know nothing leaves this room,” said Doctor Newton.
I knew she was going to ask, and it came like a reflection in a broken mirror.
“Could you tell me a little about your relationship with your mother and how you feel about her illness?”
The whine of the Ford in the driveway and the horn blow immediately following the clap of a door usually sent happiness through me, enough to send me sailing towards the front door of the house. This evening carried no such melody, only torture. There I sat, listening to the strikes of thunder from her high-heals tear through my heart, and to an awareness of a screaming ever so true. Yet it filled me like a dream that comes like a shadow and all I could do was sit there, paralyzed on the ground next to the door. I knew something was wrong when it should have been right; I could feel the warmth of harmony’s momentary embrace grow desolate as it covered my eyes as I sat crying. The door slammed shut sending a flash of light through the room and then silently returning back beneath the door from where it had abruptly entered. I know not of money, jobs, worry, responsibility, hate, rape, illness, divorce, and now I know not my mother’s eyes before me. These things were cold and sunken, empty shells of the loving and pretty world through which I learned of good and evil. They were dead, destroyed, from another world I had not learned of but heard so much about. I moved down her face to black rivers that tainted the shores of her cheeks. Further down rested a set of vicious white edges, made visible by the panicked wrinkles that made a martyr of her face. I searched violently for my mother, but the closest thing I would ever find to her would be found only in a mirror.
Night came in, relieving shame from the earth and its creatures. I always liked the night for it unmasked the ambiguities of day and gave true shape to what had previously been blinded so childishly by the sun. Tonight I sat in bed and adjusted my eyes enough to see past the glare of the lamp out into the light of night. There was a tall eucalyptus, hunched from the irregularity of its large branches and lack of roots, which grew centered in the lawn and around it was the rest of the backyard lawn. This sanctuary of infinite youthful possibilities tonight would not find relief from the usual cry of laughter, but host the paths of two lives, each tied to survival dependent on the other’s death. The two shadows unveiling themselves, circumvented around the corners of my eyes to find one another at the base of the eucalyptus. There they scratched, bit, tore, and capsized until they became one snarled mess of the same shadow among the sea of grass. I picked up deafly howls and cries, but neither sound belonged to a definite shape. Not until the hissing stopped and one shadow floated erratically back in the direction it had came from could I tell. It was my aged smitten cat Chelsy, but she was the mound of flesh that remained. She had seen night before day, child after parent, prey facing predator, and now she and her tree would see life after death—but never would the roots be less uneven or the leaves greener.
“ ‘And God made the wild beasts of the earth according to their kinds, and domestic animals according to their kinds, and everything that creeps upon the earth was good and He approved it.
God said, Let Us make mankind in Our image, after Our likeness, and let them have complete authority over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, the tame beasts, and over all of the earth, and over everything that creeps upon the earth--,’ ”
“Why did God create us?”
“I don’t quite know, maybe God got lonely or maybe he just wanted praise,” Mommy answered. I bent my neck backwards and gawked at her. Her eyes were recoiled and wounded as before, but a little warmth still radiated in the sparkle I always remember her having. I have seen her look at others but the glint of light never shows itself.
“Honey why don’t you just let me finish so we can go to bed,” said Mommy exhaustingly.
“O.K., but I have already heard this part tell another,” I cheered.
“How about this, ‘And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was delightful to look at, and a tree to be desired in order to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate; and she gave some also to her husband, and he ate.
Then the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves apron-like girdles.
And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden—’ ”
“Why did God make the tree? And was God angry at them?”
“Honey, how can a parent ever be angry at a child, except for when that child is no longer one anymore. Even then a parent’s love never dies. God doesn’t create bad people only bad situations. If you remember anything I ever tell you remember this, Love is what you don’t give not what you do give. Maybe truth is supposed to be glorious because you know what love is and you are closer to God for it. So maybe Bliss is what defines innocence and choice is what defines love. If a person doesn’t have choice can they ever really know true love?”
I was now asleep, only I was dreaming dreams that have no place inside a child. Murky dreams where I could feel my teeth come loose and scrape the sides of my mouth, then dangle from the veins that give them life. All the while I watch helplessly the scene of my Mommy willingly feeding herself to a pack of wild wolves. I feel no pain, no emotion, I only watch while I frantically try to understand why I don’t stop her. Upon waking, I could see the door to my now dark room, it was cracked transcending a long triangular light across my bed and up onto the edge of my pillow next to my face. On the illuminated sliver of my pillow I could see pools of dampness that had been absorbed into the inner depths of the cushioning. I sat there, face down wondering if the wet was from tears or saliva, for I had none on my face.
I had already been seated along side the cul-de-sac curb when the shadow of Dad’s Bronco screeched and eased to a halt, blocking the evening sun from my view. The faint circular outline of the moon could already be seen directly overhead. The curb upon which I sat was still warm, the only remnant left of the Sun’s presence in the horseshoe shaped neighborhood that crowned the hill on which it rested. I placed my right hand on the curb for I no longer needed to shield my eyes from the glare angled off from the side-view mirror on the Bronco. The brown cardboard box of memories that lay between my legs lined up with the back tire of the Bronco. These few random objects I managed to salvage before my Dad told me we had to go held no value, but they were the best I could find. A stuffed wolf Mommy had given me for Valentine’s one year sat on the surface of the opened box. Wolves for as long as I could remember had been my favorite animals but now the stuffed sentiment left me with a sickening feeling inside. The sensation wrenched onto my heart, turning it black with blood, until the failure of it all floated down to the pit of my stomach. I flipped the wolf on its face after having seen my opaquely convex reflection in the wolf’s testing eyes. Dad’s words still rung loudly in my fragile skull, forever trapping the question of what my Mommy really was. How could she be? My Mommy of six years could not have a mental illness. Could I still love her? Did she still love me? And ever more troubling, whom could I believe, my Dad or my Mommy? The only truth I could decipher was through the back window of my Dad’s Bronco, for I could see my mother’s face as it grew smaller. She was kneeling down against the garage door, each hand covering one eye; and so the sparkle was gone forever and so was I.
Although I could not bear to look up into Doctor Newton’s eyes I knew from her utter silence that she too was on the verge of tears. If she could see through all that saturation she would have found a boy who once knew the sweet clap of a rubber ball on concrete, a boy who could have told her the difference between the way a blue crayon and a red crayon smells, and too a boy that once knew the sweet taste that fruit could give in the shimmering presence of an ice-cream truck’s innocent call. But today she only found what made all those memories so precious.
Doctor Newton whispered, “that’s enough for today, you may go.”
And so I did, leaving her with nothing to look at but all those frowns of babies and clowns.
Does this narrative essay contain philosophical meaning and is it A,B,C,D, or F quality?
F quality sorry
Its a little short on words and it resembles a question more than an essay... but keep trying and don't forget the potential for a good....E ........Cheers
Reply:Again, if I knew which essay you were referring to I could rate it.
Reply:umm..i dont see any narrrative?
skin care products
A Wild Pack of Wolves
The surging air flowed freely from the gaping wound of a door behind me. A blanket of humidity greeted me now with a suffocating intoxication, quickly reminding me how nice the air-conditioned the department store had been. Trudging along, I began my exile through the parking lot to my car. I left the store behind me and filtered through other corpses that stick baked to the asphalt. My skin glistens and reflects the unforgiving yet naïve sun, the same light that gives the moon its shallow glow. The sun seemed to give this day an individual energy and reality, a true ecstasy giving a hope to those banished from the gaiety of life. Any other day I would have hurried to my car, but today I let the sun’s inescapable veracity sizzle and soak me through, as do novelties a consumer. The tint from inside the car induced the purging of what existed beyond the window from out of what withered inside. Bliss, no matter how much I thought I had wanted it, and tried to get, ended in misery. Who was I fooling; I’m no more human than a puppet that will dance with the flick of a social conformist’s wrist. It’s days like this one that the red curtain retreats before me, giving way to life’s actors who seem to dramatize the same play repeatedly while I watch and recite their next words. I could no longer eat of the apple in all its décor of waxy perfection while this picture hung vainly rotten before me like a day’s till. Is having never tasted the sweetness of truth worse than the infinite dream of a false beauty? I twisted the ignition and cranked the air-conditioning, drinking in my artificial air until I was hydrated enough to adjust to the new light of the car. I sat there, fleeing far from the recesses of the parking lot; from where I sat, I could quietly add up my whole life. However this is no more than what could be fitted inside the plastic bag that lay strewn across the adjacent seat. I sat and wondered about past memories, surfaced from spotting The Jungle Book inside the department store. I wondered, if the boy in the story had continued living with the wolves and lived a lie his whole life, would it be better or worse than living with humans. If his life continued with the wolves he would never know responsibility, love, or religion. On the other hand, is living with humans and knowing hate, jealousy, malice, and vanity better? The time for my innocence had come and left, ripped out of my cradle before I knew whom good, evil, Adam, or Eve was. As I drove away from all that wilderness of the parking lot, all the cries and howls of long ago seemingly transmuted into nothing more than the glimmers of light, reflecting from the stream of asphalt that grew longer, until it became nothing more than the infinite luminosity of the sun that trailed past the distant mountains.
“Travis…Travis…--oh there you are. Hello my name is Doctor Newton and I’ll be your doctor for the next couple of weeks. Now you just come right through this door and we’ll get started with our first session—O.K.?”
I nodded, leaving the quiet emptiness that can only come from a group of people each silently enduring the weekly pain of a not so anticipated doctors appointment. The only detectable manifestation of this pain was the occasional crinkle of a magazine page being turned. As I passed under the ominous arch of the doorframe overhead I prayed silently that I would never have to read any of those magazines again. Doctor Newton’s office was littered with pictures of babies crawling in diapers and clowns with face paint. One clown had a sad face painted on him with a single real tear on his cheek--only the tear had been caked down from all the paint.
A long pause passed before the doctor’s and my eyes met somewhere on her desk; I was sitting on some Playskool desk with paper and crayons.
“So…” the doctor said, “can you tell me why you are here today?”
Another pause passed by without a word. I questioned myself why I was here in the first place and also whether her question was entrapment. Finally, I answered, “I can’t really say, my dad wouldn’t tell me.”
After the brief conversing I was told to “draw a picture—any picture I wanted.”
So I began to draw the clown I saw earlier and a couple other familiar things. I drew for ten minutes and she complimented me on the art. I began to take quick glances at her eyes, for they said what we both knew but only one of us would admit. I wanted to leave. I could feel a stinging pain on the back of my eyes and a queasy sensation in my abdomen.
Doctor Newton cracked the edges of her lips, paused and finally asked, “How do you feel about your mother?”
I uttered silently, “I don’t know—fine I guess.”
“You don’t have any problems you want to share--you know nothing leaves this room,” said Doctor Newton.
I knew she was going to ask, and it came like a reflection in a broken mirror.
“Could you tell me a little about your relationship with your mother and how you feel about her illness?”
The whine of the Ford in the driveway and the horn blow immediately following the clap of a door usually sent happiness through me, enough to send me sailing towards the front door of the house. This evening carried no such melody, only torture. There I sat, listening to the strikes of thunder from her high-heals tear through my heart, and to an awareness of a screaming ever so true. Yet it filled me like a dream that comes like a shadow and all I could do was sit there, paralyzed on the ground next to the door. I knew something was wrong when it should have been right; I could feel the warmth of harmony’s momentary embrace grow desolate as it covered my eyes as I sat crying. The door slammed shut sending a flash of light through the room and then silently returning back beneath the door from where it had abruptly entered. I know not of money, jobs, worry, responsibility, hate, rape, illness, divorce, and now I know not my mother’s eyes before me. These things were cold and sunken, empty shells of the loving and pretty world through which I learned of good and evil. They were dead, destroyed, from another world I had not learned of but heard so much about. I moved down her face to black rivers that tainted the shores of her cheeks. Further down rested a set of vicious white edges, made visible by the panicked wrinkles that made a martyr of her face. I searched violently for my mother, but the closest thing I would ever find to her would be found only in a mirror.
Night came in, relieving shame from the earth and its creatures. I always liked the night for it unmasked the ambiguities of day and gave true shape to what had previously been blinded so childishly by the sun. Tonight I sat in bed and adjusted my eyes enough to see past the glare of the lamp out into the light of night. There was a tall eucalyptus, hunched from the irregularity of its large branches and lack of roots, which grew centered in the lawn and around it was the rest of the backyard lawn. This sanctuary of infinite youthful possibilities tonight would not find relief from the usual cry of laughter, but host the paths of two lives, each tied to survival dependent on the other’s death. The two shadows unveiling themselves, circumvented around the corners of my eyes to find one another at the base of the eucalyptus. There they scratched, bit, tore, and capsized until they became one snarled mess of the same shadow among the sea of grass. I picked up deafly howls and cries, but neither sound belonged to a definite shape. Not until the hissing stopped and one shadow floated erratically back in the direction it had came from could I tell. It was my aged smitten cat Chelsy, but she was the mound of flesh that remained. She had seen night before day, child after parent, prey facing predator, and now she and her tree would see life after death—but never would the roots be less uneven or the leaves greener.
“ ‘And God made the wild beasts of the earth according to their kinds, and domestic animals according to their kinds, and everything that creeps upon the earth was good and He approved it.
God said, Let Us make mankind in Our image, after Our likeness, and let them have complete authority over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, the tame beasts, and over all of the earth, and over everything that creeps upon the earth--,’ ”
“Why did God create us?”
“I don’t quite know, maybe God got lonely or maybe he just wanted praise,” Mommy answered. I bent my neck backwards and gawked at her. Her eyes were recoiled and wounded as before, but a little warmth still radiated in the sparkle I always remember her having. I have seen her look at others but the glint of light never shows itself.
“Honey why don’t you just let me finish so we can go to bed,” said Mommy exhaustingly.
“O.K., but I have already heard this part tell another,” I cheered.
“How about this, ‘And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was delightful to look at, and a tree to be desired in order to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate; and she gave some also to her husband, and he ate.
Then the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves apron-like girdles.
And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden—’ ”
“Why did God make the tree? And was God angry at them?”
“Honey, how can a parent ever be angry at a child, except for when that child is no longer one anymore. Even then a parent’s love never dies. God doesn’t create bad people only bad situations. If you remember anything I ever tell you remember this, Love is what you don’t give not what you do give. Maybe truth is supposed to be glorious because you know what love is and you are closer to God for it. So maybe Bliss is what defines innocence and choice is what defines love. If a person doesn’t have choice can they ever really know true love?”
I was now asleep, only I was dreaming dreams that have no place inside a child. Murky dreams where I could feel my teeth come loose and scrape the sides of my mouth, then dangle from the veins that give them life. All the while I watch helplessly the scene of my Mommy willingly feeding herself to a pack of wild wolves. I feel no pain, no emotion, I only watch while I frantically try to understand why I don’t stop her. Upon waking, I could see the door to my now dark room, it was cracked transcending a long triangular light across my bed and up onto the edge of my pillow next to my face. On the illuminated sliver of my pillow I could see pools of dampness that had been absorbed into the inner depths of the cushioning. I sat there, face down wondering if the wet was from tears or saliva, for I had none on my face.
I had already been seated along side the cul-de-sac curb when the shadow of Dad’s Bronco screeched and eased to a halt, blocking the evening sun from my view. The faint circular outline of the moon could already be seen directly overhead. The curb upon which I sat was still warm, the only remnant left of the Sun’s presence in the horseshoe shaped neighborhood that crowned the hill on which it rested. I placed my right hand on the curb for I no longer needed to shield my eyes from the glare angled off from the side-view mirror on the Bronco. The brown cardboard box of memories that lay between my legs lined up with the back tire of the Bronco. These few random objects I managed to salvage before my Dad told me we had to go held no value, but they were the best I could find. A stuffed wolf Mommy had given me for Valentine’s one year sat on the surface of the opened box. Wolves for as long as I could remember had been my favorite animals but now the stuffed sentiment left me with a sickening feeling inside. The sensation wrenched onto my heart, turning it black with blood, until the failure of it all floated down to the pit of my stomach. I flipped the wolf on its face after having seen my opaquely convex reflection in the wolf’s testing eyes. Dad’s words still rung loudly in my fragile skull, forever trapping the question of what my Mommy really was. How could she be? My Mommy of six years could not have a mental illness. Could I still love her? Did she still love me? And ever more troubling, whom could I believe, my Dad or my Mommy? The only truth I could decipher was through the back window of my Dad’s Bronco, for I could see my mother’s face as it grew smaller. She was kneeling down against the garage door, each hand covering one eye; and so the sparkle was gone forever and so was I.
Although I could not bear to look up into Doctor Newton’s eyes I knew from her utter silence that she too was on the verge of tears. If she could see through all that saturation she would have found a boy who once knew the sweet clap of a rubber ball on concrete, a boy who could have told her the difference between the way a blue crayon and a red crayon smells, and too a boy that once knew the sweet taste that fruit could give in the shimmering presence of an ice-cream truck’s innocent call. But today she only found what made all those memories so precious.
Doctor Newton whispered, “that’s enough for today, you may go.”
And so I did, leaving her with nothing to look at but all those frowns of babies and clowns.
Does this narrative essay contain philosophical meaning and is it A,B,C,D, or F quality?
F quality sorry
Its a little short on words and it resembles a question more than an essay... but keep trying and don't forget the potential for a good....E ........Cheers
Reply:Again, if I knew which essay you were referring to I could rate it.
Reply:umm..i dont see any narrrative?
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Anyone ever gotten a replacement tooth?
I'm wanting to get a down right rotted, barely there molar extracted and a replacement tooth put in place. Where they do the surgery and, well, "screw" a new tooth in place. Anyone ever gotten this done that can tell me a bit about that experience or know someone who has? What about the overall total cost of something like this? I've heard it's around 1200 per tooth. Does insurance cover it? Any details or personal experiences would be appreciated. Any good websites that have pictures and details of this kind of surgery?
Anyone ever gotten a replacement tooth?
had the 'screw'' pro. done. went good. want the perm. bridge tho. if that tooth chips it starts all over.
Reply:I CHIPPED my tooth one time. and i got a filling. uhm. i couldnt tell you the cost, but i know it doesnt cost as much as my braces do!
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Anyone ever gotten a replacement tooth?
had the 'screw'' pro. done. went good. want the perm. bridge tho. if that tooth chips it starts all over.
Reply:I CHIPPED my tooth one time. and i got a filling. uhm. i couldnt tell you the cost, but i know it doesnt cost as much as my braces do!
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Are you at this age yet? I'm not quite there but I guess this is how you would feel. What do you think?
~When you look upon special things to happen,sometimes they appear~J E M
--------------------------------------...
Ramblings of a Retired Mind
I was thinking about how a status symbol of today is those cell phones that everyone has clipped onto their belt or purse. I can't afford one. So, I'm wearing my garage door opener. I also made a cover for my hearing aid and now I have what they call blue teeth, I think.
You know, I spent a fortune on deodorant before I realized that people didn't like me anyway.
I was thinking that women should put pictures of missing husbands on beer cans!
I was thinking about old age and decided that old age is 'when you still have something on the ball, but you are just too tired to bounce it.'
I thought about making a fitness movie for folks my age, and call it 'Pumping Rust'.
I've gotten that dreaded furniture disease. That's when your chest is falling into your drawers!
When people see a cat's litter box, they always say, 'Oh, have you got a cat?' Just once I want to say, 'No, it's for company!'
Employment application blanks always ask who is to be notified in case of an emergency. I think you should write, 'A Good Doctor'!
Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do...write to these men?
Why don't they just put their pictures on the postage stamps so the mailmen could look for them while they deliver the mail? Or better yet, arrest them while they are taking their pictures!
I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older. Then, it dawned on me, they were cramming for their finals.
As for me, I'm just hoping God grades on the curve.
' Enjoy Your Days .%26amp;. Love Your Life' Because :::
' Life is a journey to be savored
Are you at this age yet? I'm not quite there but I guess this is how you would feel. What do you think?
We had our share of Good time of fresh air,mountain breeze,river and ponds and well swimming,thatched roof cinema hall,pollution free earth than the present age inherited,lot of folk songs,road side dramas,singing competitions,group dancing,church,temple gathering very devoted,totally believing there is GOD.Can Henry David Throue go to walden living now,can r.frost write in New hampshire poems like " A cosiderable Speck".The modern times have their own toys like laptop,cellphone,computers,and if you are rich enough sports car,private planes.We may not exchange our golden days for these modern toys.so we may not fully in the prsent age isn't it
Reply:HAHA!
Reply:it's fun
Reply:different!....different.
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--------------------------------------...
Ramblings of a Retired Mind
I was thinking about how a status symbol of today is those cell phones that everyone has clipped onto their belt or purse. I can't afford one. So, I'm wearing my garage door opener. I also made a cover for my hearing aid and now I have what they call blue teeth, I think.
You know, I spent a fortune on deodorant before I realized that people didn't like me anyway.
I was thinking that women should put pictures of missing husbands on beer cans!
I was thinking about old age and decided that old age is 'when you still have something on the ball, but you are just too tired to bounce it.'
I thought about making a fitness movie for folks my age, and call it 'Pumping Rust'.
I've gotten that dreaded furniture disease. That's when your chest is falling into your drawers!
When people see a cat's litter box, they always say, 'Oh, have you got a cat?' Just once I want to say, 'No, it's for company!'
Employment application blanks always ask who is to be notified in case of an emergency. I think you should write, 'A Good Doctor'!
Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do...write to these men?
Why don't they just put their pictures on the postage stamps so the mailmen could look for them while they deliver the mail? Or better yet, arrest them while they are taking their pictures!
I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older. Then, it dawned on me, they were cramming for their finals.
As for me, I'm just hoping God grades on the curve.
' Enjoy Your Days .%26amp;. Love Your Life' Because :::
' Life is a journey to be savored
Are you at this age yet? I'm not quite there but I guess this is how you would feel. What do you think?
We had our share of Good time of fresh air,mountain breeze,river and ponds and well swimming,thatched roof cinema hall,pollution free earth than the present age inherited,lot of folk songs,road side dramas,singing competitions,group dancing,church,temple gathering very devoted,totally believing there is GOD.Can Henry David Throue go to walden living now,can r.frost write in New hampshire poems like " A cosiderable Speck".The modern times have their own toys like laptop,cellphone,computers,and if you are rich enough sports car,private planes.We may not exchange our golden days for these modern toys.so we may not fully in the prsent age isn't it
Reply:HAHA!
Reply:it's fun
Reply:different!....different.
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