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logo design for our youth group, thanks for the feedback from the lab...
still open for feedback, comments, suggestions...
thanks!
Foreplay Friday at The Prestige Reserve at the CRAVE SIM
Let the tension build, the beats seduce, and the desires ignite. Step into a night of sultry rhythms, intimate vibes, and irresistible temptation as we tease your senses and leave you craving more. The Prestige Reserve is where passion meets the music—so slip into something seductive and prepare for an unforgettable night.
Lineup to set the mood:
4 PM – DJ REMO | Arousing your senses with slow blues
6 PM – DJ ROCKER | Turning up the heat with raw, sexy energy
8 PM – DJ NESTOR | Closing the night with deep, decadent and erotic desires
Dress to impress – Let your attire be as daring as your fantasies tonight we showcase fishnet!
Dare to indulge? The night is young, and the pleasure is all yours.
The Crave headline the Joiners in Southampton on a mini-tour with Enjoy Destroy and Young Guns 17.05.09
My Choice: the Drunken Onion: cabernet caramelized onions, Gruyere, Swiss, and French onion soup for dipping with sweet potato fries! It worries me that my family selected this for me! As eaten at Crave Real Burger, Castle Rock, Colorado.
How could I start this letter writing journey with anyone but my Grandma? She's the one that most consistently sends me letters, and I'm not always the best granddaughter when it comes to answering them.
While I was a student at Michigan State University, my Grandma had homemade chocolate chip cookies waiting for me every time I visited home. The good kind of chocolate chip cookies, too. The kind roommates crave. The kind you could use to bribe someone to fix your computer. They were small and gooey and best eaten within the first few days. But, you could also microwave slightly stale cookies for 20 seconds, and they would be warm and gooey again. The cookies kept coming even into my early married life. She only stopped a few years ago after several falls (broken hip, broken leg) made her unsteady on her feet.
She's a hard woman not to like. She's "tickled" by colors (blue, purple), sunflowers, puppies, birds, most things. I love to watch her delight: it creeps across her face, her voice rises slightly, her hand reaches to pull me in to kiss. But she's had dark places, too, deep sorrows. After I was born, my parents waited weeks to tell my Grandma. She was in one of those depths, unwilling to go out, unable to experience the joy of her only son's firstborn. After she broke her leg, the family waited, breath held, hoping Grandma wouldn't get pulled in so deep and dark that she couldn't get out this time.
When I visit now, I see she's slowing. With the most recent fall, it took much longer for her leg to heal, for her to get back on her feet again. She uses a walker now; it's safer that way. I hug her tightly, kiss both checks, and never forget to tell her I love her now.