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Hello Everybody! BNTM c5 Auditions are officially OPEN!
With Peyton Chance as your host and judge! But….she can’t do it alone, so she brought in some help! The wonderful top model-in-training Anastasia Emerald!
Now, here are the RULES:
1. NO fighting. Drama between dolls is OK, but nothing personal!
2. NO stealing photos! Need we explain our reasoning?
3. Three strikes and you’re out. If you don’t hand in your photo three times, does NOT matter if it’s consecutive or not, then you are disqualified. We want dedicated models to be in this!
4. Hand in your photos on time! Since this is going to be a collab-BNTM, deadlines are going to be extra important because we will both have to schedule our time accordingly. If you hand in your photo late, it just messes everything up.
5. NO changing models. Unless your model is damaged, don’t even ask! If you’re going to get bored with your model, then don’t use her in the first place.
6. Bratz only! That means no Bratzillaz!
7. Do not put your photos on private unless you’re told to, and always tag me (BratzRLife13) and MellyMelonMole in your photos each week.
8. Poseable bodied Bratz only please! Movie bodies and Party/Catz/Rock bodies are preferred.
AUDITION REQUIREMENTS:
-Plain white background
-Fullbody shot
-Eyecontact (preffered)
-Outfit of your style
-Hair tied up in any style
Make sure to have all of the following in the DESCRIPTION:
-Name
-Age
-Style
-Personality
-Why they should be in the competition
-Hometown
-Currently Living
We both hope to see lots of different personalities and unique looks! Have fun and Good Luck!:)
Auditions close JULY 1ST!
Auditions:
1. Charile: www.flickr.com/photos/119129024@N05/13909833809/in/photos...
2. Gladis Marron: www.flickr.com/photos/sailorcrystel/13910398278/
3. Raven Thomasina: www.flickr.com/photos/86305693@N04/14095339372/
4. Bethany Weston: www.flickr.com/photos/88102708@N07/14118868833/
5. Tulisa Keen: www.flickr.com/photos/93280992@N05/14101144641/
6. Hazel Adams: www.flickr.com/photos/87808124@N06/14148473165/
7. Daisy Collins: www.flickr.com/photos/mhperfectlyimperfect/14171330723/
8. Cole Peterson: www.flickr.com/photos/janeenf/13966230369/
9. Freya Cardoso: www.flickr.com/photos/craftasticmess/14170032241/
10. Marie-Andre Mothee: www.flickr.com/photos/v1cthepurplejagerbomb/14036605129/
11. Remira Leighton: www.flickr.com/photos/eatmycookies125/14253318603/
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國立台灣文學館 - 推理文學在臺灣特展 / 文學的光影 - 透視的角度
National Museum of Taiwanese Literature - Reasoning literature in Taiwan special exhibition / The Light and Shadow of Literature - Perspective of Perspective
Museo Nacional de la literatura taiwanesa - Razonamiento de la literatura en Taiwan exposición especial / La Luz y la Sombra de la Literatura - Perspectiva de la Perspectiva
国立の台湾の文学館 - 推理の文学は台湾特に展にあります / 文学のつやがある影 - 透視する角度
Nationalmuseum der taiwanesischen Literatur - Begründung Literatur in Taiwan Sonderausstellung / Das Licht und Schatten der Literatur - Perspektive der Perspektive
Musée national de la littérature taiwanaise - Raisonnement de la littérature à Taiwan exposition spéciale / La lumière et l'ombre de la littérature - Perspective de perspective
Tainan Taiwan / Tainan Taiwán / 台灣台南
管樂小集 2017/03/25 台南文化中心 Tainan Cultural Center Star Plaza performances 1080P
{ 相思河畔 Acacia riverside アカシア川 }
{View large size on fluidr / 觀看大圖}
{My Blog / 管樂小集精彩演出-觸動你的心}
{My Blog / Great Music The splendid performance touches your heart}
{My Blog / 管楽小集すばらしい公演-はあなたの心を心を打ちます}
{Mi blog / La gran música el funcionamiento espléndido toca su corazón}
{Mein Blog / Große Musik die herrliche Leistung berührt Ihr Herz}
{Mon blog / La grande musique l'exécution splendide touche votre coeur}
Melody 曲:JAPAN / Words 詞:Sheesen / Singing : Sheesen
{ 夢旅人 1990 Dream Traveler 1990 }
家住安南鹽溪邊
The family lives in nearby the Annan salt river
隔壁就是聽雨軒
The next door listens to the rain porch
一旦落日照大員
The sunset Shineing to the Taiwan at once
左岸青龍飛九天
The left bank white dragon flying in the sky
[Digital Painting — Prints best within 45 x 50 cm / 17 x 20 inches]
Like many German First World War airmen, Lothar von Richthofen, the Red Baron's younger sibling, had a very superstitious nature about him. Lothar quite conspicuously began his military career by flying into battle with a lucky riding crop at his side in the cockpit. So it was, until older brother Manfred saw fit to convince him to trade in the equestrian accouterment for his very own pair of "lucky" leather flying gloves. The reasoning being, if the gloves brought older brother good luck, they would do the same for him. Perhaps they did at that, as Lothar not only survived a monumental case of triskaidekaphobia but also survived the war itself, with a total of 40 aerial victories no less; exactly half his brother's tally.
Glückliche Landungen,
Codi von Richthofen,
The Red Baron Gallery ©
Following the apparent popularity of my picture of an Inter-City 125 power car at St Pancras, I have revived an image from the adjacent Kings Cross. My reasoning remains the same. A lot has changed in the more than 30 years since 43056 stood at the London terminus. I think both the trolleys to the left and the van to the right (a generator van?) are of interest also.
Another geotgagging masterstroke from Flickr places this picture incorrectly
822808 - crop
Peabody Essex Museum
XYZT is an immersive art exhibition comprised of 10 interactive virtual environments generated using math and physics models. In a darkened gallery, guests use their own movement and gestures to interact with light in a series of digital landscapes inspired by nature. Specific sensations, such as walking in the grass or putting your hands into the sand, are transposed into abstract, sensory encounters with lines, dots and letters.
XYZT creators Adrien Mondot and Claire Bardainne, French artists/performers/computer scientists, describe the installations as "a journey through nature revisited." Each letter in "XYZT" identifies the movement of a point in space - horizontal (X), vertical (Y), depth (Z) and time (T). The experience melds playful exploration with scientific reasoning, as each installation is accompanied by a video label on the nature of the underlying physical behavior, complete with excerpts from related dance performances.
Chimney swept yesterday which brought down an old Jackdaw nest containing four dead birds. My reasoning is that lit fires will keep Jackdaws out of the chimney until we can get a cowling fitted (next Monday). Good to have both a real fire and some heat as we work on our cottage.
I used to love that Saturday Night Live Skit, "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy."
They always had these super-serious visuals that reminded you of a drug-rehab commercial and then some absolutely silly line of reasoning. This reminded me of that for some reason :)
The majority of the former London Country RCL class were purchased for use by LT and overhauled prior to entering service in 1980. Before 1983 was out, several had been taken out of service following mechanical failure and some departed for scrap. The official policy was that these `non-standard` buses would be progressively withdrawn following significant damage or mechanical issues rather than spend time and money on repair. More went for scrap through 1984 at which point the London Transport Museum started to consider adding an RCL to represent the Green Line era.
Those that had passed through Bus Sales prior to the Summer of 1984 had either been obvious candidates for scrap or had not been in particularly good condition. The LT Museum at this point had no budget or premises to add an RCL but there was an urgency to act then. The problem with a phased as opposed to a simultaneous withdrawal of a vehicle type was that it created a `run it into the ground` culture at garage level if it was known that these were buses on borrowed time. With each RCL arriving at AEC having a fairly unimpressive pre-disposal inspection report, the on site engineer made the profound judgement that `each new arrival will probably be worse than the one before`. It was an astute bit of reasoning and thus before the LT Museum were in a position to commit, we took the advice of the engineer and put aside the best of the bunch in the early Summer of 1984 with a view to replacing it if a better one arrived.
I think I knew at the point of putting RCL 2229 into the shed with the other Museum buses that this was going to be the one. For two months it sat there and, just as the engineer had predicted, no other RCL arrived that had an inspection report as `clean` as 2229. It also had either a recently reconditioned engine and/or gearbox - I forget which and my attempts to find a copy of the inspection report have been unsuccessful.
So, that`s how the Museum RCL was chosen and by the time of this picture on 9 August 1984 its place in transport history had been assured.
© All rights reserved !!!!!
24.may.2010 - 597 / 75 / 370 / 2 galleries
just back from an outside walk on a sunny pentecost sunday !
hope you all had time to enjoy the fresh colors of this may day and the singing birds and frogs :-) every where !
– thank you for your always appreciated comments –
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- Creating the Future -Welcome to the Age of Interaction -
Future is something that is created. Every idea you have about the future influences your perception of what you will create and of what is possible to be created.
Let's focus on the changes on a global level based on the exiting and powerful experiences that we have as individuals, such as:
* Self-determination: it is so important to feel who you are, to appreciate yourself, to know what you want. That gives you the power to DO.
Acknowledging our differences and developing our individual talents, interests and skills is a prerequisite to making our input valuable for all around us and ourselves as well.
* Allowing your flow: With our opening to so many more avenues of information it is impossible to understand with our reasoning alone. We have to use our intuition. We stay in the now not to overwhelm ourselves. We allow our identity to change and to shift from analyzing to following impulses and doing.
* Interconnectedness: We are no longer anxiously holding to our energy not wanting to interact. We feel safe. It is so natural for us to take care of others. The future is female.
* Trust: Allowing things to unfold. Knowing that you will not harm yourself.
* YCYR: You create your reality. You do not create the reality of other individuals. You experience that you create your reality.
Join me in my exploration of how are we going to live in 2075.
Elias Quote Session 917: There is no aspect of your reality that is impossible to be manifest, regardless of how impossible it appears.
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A shadowy take on the instantly recognizable bullseye logo of Target Corp. Created in 1962, the reasoning behind the choice was explained "As a marksman's goal is to hit the center bulls-eye, the new store would do much the same in terms of retail goods, services, commitment to the community, price, value and overall experience." Target Canada recently announced it will be closing all of its Canadian stores even faster than originally planned.
If I had had more attuned senses I might have got this shot in full sun as the 90 was fully lit in the next field south of where I was standing. If I had ran 70 or so yards I might have got it but then I might have missed it altogether, which was my initial line of reasoning for not moving (I was also hoping that the advancing sun would get here in time but was it was fractionally too late). Annoyingly it was a complete 180 degree rainbow a couple of minutes later but I would have had the wrong lens on the camera for that anyway....
Practicing with make up and trying new outfits while traveling.
I had only two pairs of pantyhose and two pairs of stockings with me. [The stockings were still with me from previous travels, see the 1992-05-17 (Madison, Wisconsin) album.] Unfortunately I ruined the two pairs of pantyhose and so had only the stockings to wear. During my previous experience I did find them comfortable for "everyday activities."
I took them on an "extended outing" in this outfit by going to the post office and a restaurant (where I felt overdressed for this town!) As before I enjoyed the occasional rubbing and Shh-Shh sound, but didn't enjoy the pulling of the individual garters that occurred when using stairs or while driving. (See end note for interesting memory.) By the way, the stocking shade is taupe. I think this shade produces a much better leg look than off black or black.
Ego boost - While leaving the post office, a gentleman who was entering held the door for me. I walked about 20 yards (18.3 m ) to my car and when I turned to get in the car I noticed that he had not yet entered the post office and had probably been watching me (hopefully in admiration).
A relevant and humorously insightful aside - Has this ever happened to you, have you ever done this? The person that gave me directions to the restaurant often referred to places that were no longer there, such as, turn right where the hardware store used to be. Obviously, as an out-of-towner this description meant nothing to me and I had to keep asking for current landmarks.
End Note: In the sixties, when pantyhose were first becoming popular, I remember reading an article on the advantages of pantyhose over stockings and garters. One advantage was safer driving. The reasoning was that the tug of the garter on the stocking caused one to overcompensate when depressing the accelerator leading to greater acceleration, but with pantyhose this did not occur. This article was probably put out by the Pantyhose Promotion Partnership.
MacroMonday - Ethereal
“It's like I am inside this ethereal sphere wherein exists no logic, no reasoning, no typicality, no explanations, no realism, no comparisons, nothing ordinary, and no normalcy. And then if you are to understand me, you have to step into my realm and leave all of those things behind. I'm not typical. I'm not ordinary. And I'm not normal. And I never will be . So I don't see the point of waking up in the morning and wishing to be so.”
― C. JoyBell C.
An idea is a form (such as a thought) formed by consciousness through the process of reasoning, self-reflection, intuition and inspiration.
As you thought of any ideas, don’t you feel enlightening? A light bulb or multiple bulbs brighten up above your brain or mind. I get the same feeling every time when I come across with something, regardless a good one or a dumb one : ))))))
And you?
explore #400 May 10, 2009
Singapore. Seen that move Irreversible?
Any feedback is welcome, I just ask that if you leave a score or rating, please explain your reasoning. The whole point of it is to grow as a shooter. I don't need a number to boost my ego, I'd like some critiques.
Hey guys... Jack here, after a LONG time of what may have seemed to be a span of inactivity. For my followers reading this, I thank each and every one of you for your continued support despite my extended leave, and I hope I can explain to you all my reasoning for it. See, despite having turned 18 around mid-June... I was not free from my parents until about a week ago. It is good I finally escaped their grasp I’d say.. because otherwise I may not have gotten back to this community for quite some time more, unfortunately. See, right after I turned 18, my parents grew considerably stricter and applied far more pressure than I felt from them before. Now, my parents are very pressurizing people as they were beforehand, but their newly gained behavior involved attempting to control, manipulate and increase my academic rigor (which is already quite difficult for me), despite me being the one being enrolled in the college. Of course, I completely understand they want me to be successful, but this relentlessly oppressive effort and it’s results were so debilitating, discouraging and hard to swallow that I ended up moving to my uncles in Santa Barbara. I am continuing college in the spring, but I decided I needed a break to work on myself and such this fall. Now, I don’t hate on my parents or want to bring hate to them... but I do think their methods resulted in a really unhealthy and cut-off environment for me: they restricted even my phone many times, as well as my computer, and dictated that I could not use recreational apps much with my online classes I was taking during the summer. These apps even included Flickr and Instagram, mediums which I share my passion for LEGO through, and engage with and be inspired by the communities there. It was hard, and eventually I decided that the environment was too limiting and stressful for me, and that I had to move to my Uncle’s place in Santa Barbara. I am here now, and have been here for around a week, perhaps a week and a half. I know my parents were doing their best, but I decided to remove myself from them temporarily to get some space and air. It’s very beautiful here and I brought my LEGO collection, phone and PC here. Everything is settled in now, including me, and all is unrestricted — meaning I can finally post again! I have cooked up so many models (behind my parents’ backs 😂) and can’t wait to show you all. It’s great to be back, and I wish my parents the best despite the trying times I’ve undergone with them. See you guys soon with the bunch of models I’m uploading!
WEEK 35 – Carrollton, GA, Target (V)
Perhaps to compensate for my inability to get any better pics of the café, I dawdled around here in the register area, capturing this shot of some of the checklanes. Not much reasoning behind my shot that I can tell, although looking at it closer, it is notable from the standpoint that those old-school lane lights would for sure be going away soon. Also interesting (if true) – is register number 13 there operating without an electric belt? I certainly don’t remember those from any Target store, not even Horn Lake!
Some extra content to drop here, while I’ve still got this store’s Google Maps page open: here's a link to what the front actionway would’ve liked like prior to the remodel. There, we can see the perimeter track lighting in action, as well as some backlit poster screens on the walls that acted as extra decoration – but clearly had already been removed before I visited. Note the strange/possibly rare “FOOD” sign instead of “MARKET” or “CANDY & SNACKS,” too! In fact, lots of great photos, majority pre-remodel, to be found at that Google Maps page, so be sure to spend some time exploring that. I’m sorry I didn’t link to more comparison shots throughout this album!
(c) 2021 Retail Retell
These places are public so these photos are too, but just as I tell where they came from, I'd appreciate if you'd say who :)
An interesting story about the Mile High City:
According to 50States.com and wikipedia.org, Colorado is the only state in U.S. history to turn down the Olympics. In 1976, the Winter Olympics were planned to be held in Denver. The city was selected over Sion, Switzerland; Tampere, Finland; and Whistler, British Columbia, Canada.
However, at the last minute (in terms of how long it takes a city to start planning and constructing for the Games), 62% of Colorado’s voters chose not to host the Olympics, reasoning that the cost, pollution, and population boom would have been detrimental to Denver, and the entire State of Colorado. Specifically, a 300% increase in costs and concerns about the environmental impact led Denver to inevitably reject the Games.
Future host cities came into the picture afterwards in an attempt to save the day.
When Denver withdrew in 1972, the disappointed International Olympic Committee (IOC) offered the games to Whistler, but Whistler also declined on account of a change of government following elections that year! It would not be for another 38 years that Whistler would get its opportunity to shine alongside Vancouver in 2010.
Salt Lake City, Utah, (which would host in 2002), a city that was not in the final bidding for 1976, but tried to use its geographical proximity to Denver as an advantage, offered itself as a potential host. The IOC, chagrined and angered by Denver’s withdrawal, rejected Salt Lake City and North America altogether! Eventually, Innsbruck, Austria would host the 1976 Winter Olympics -- again -- only 12 years after it hosted the Games in 1964.
Who knew Denver caused its own share of drama back in the 70s? This is part of the reason why I love cities so much. They’re like individual people, with their own personalities, idiosyncrasies, opinions, and attitudes! Looks like Denver definitely had an attitude in 1972!
TIA INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHY / TIA Facebook / TIA Twitter / TIA Local
if you're in a bit of mood, you may need a replenishment like this... :)
I Can't Escape Myself by Nouvelle Vague
So many feelings
End up in here
Left alone I'm with
Oh, an atmosphere
I'm sick and I'm tired
Of reasoning
Just want to break out
Kick off this skin
I can't escape myself
All my problems
Lume larger than life
I can swallow
Another slice
Seems like my shadow
Marks every strike
Cannot learn to live with
What stuck inside
I can't escape myself
I can't escape myself
So many feelings
End up in here
Left alone I'm with
Oh, an atmosphere
I'm sick and I'm tired
Of reasoning
Cannot learn to live with
Kick off this skin
I can't escape myself
I can't escape myself...
國立台灣文學館 - 推理文學在臺灣特展 / 小說的情節 - 復古電話機
National Museum of Taiwanese Literature - Reasoning literature in Taiwan special exhibition / The plot of the novel - Retro phone
Museo Nacional de la literatura taiwanesa - Razonamiento de la literatura en Taiwan exposición especial / El argumento de la novela - Retro phone
国立の台湾の文学館 - 推理の文学は台湾特に展にあります / 小説のプロット - レトロ電話
Nationalmuseum der taiwanesischen Literatur - Begründung Literatur in Taiwan Sonderausstellung / Die Handlung des Romans - Retro Telefon
Musée national de la littérature taiwanaise - Raisonnement de la littérature à Taiwan exposition spéciale / L'intrigue du roman - Rétro téléphone
Tainan Taiwan / Tainan Taiwán / 台灣台南
管樂小集 2017/06/11 台南文化中心 Tainan Cultural Center Star Plaza performances 1080P
{ 曲名:千曲川 / 心影 / Chikuma river }
{View large size on fluidr / 觀看大圖}
{My Blog / 管樂小集精彩演出-觸動你的心}
{My Blog / Great Music The splendid performance touches your heart}
{My Blog / 管楽小集すばらしい公演-はあなたの心を心を打ちます}
{Mi blog / La gran música el funcionamiento espléndido toca su corazón}
{Mein Blog / Große Musik die herrliche Leistung berührt Ihr Herz}
{Mon blog / La grande musique l'exécution splendide touche votre coeur}
Melody 曲:JAPAN / Words 詞:Sheesen / Singing : Sheesen
{ 夢旅人 1990 Dream Traveler 1990 }
家住安南鹽溪邊
The family lives in nearby the Annan salt river
隔壁就是聽雨軒
The next door listens to the rain porch
一旦落日照大員
The sunset Shineing to the Taiwan at once
左岸青龍飛九天
The left bank white dragon flying in the sky
Despite a somewhat ragged appearance on satellite imagery, Arthur has strengthened overnight. NOAA and Air Force Reserve Hurricane Hunter aircraft have found surface winds in the 45-50 kt range to the south and northeast of the center, while also finding the central pressure has fallen to about 996 mb. Arthur has begun moving steadily northward at around 5 kt. The overall track forecast reasoning remains unchanged, as the tropical cyclone should continue northward for the next 12 to 24 hours. This image was taken by GOES West at the far eastern periphery of its scan, at 1200Z on July 2, 2014.
Image credit: NOAA/NASA GOES Project
Caption credit: NASA/NOAA via NOAA Environmental Visualization Laboratory
NASA Goddard Space Flight Center enables NASA’s mission through four scientific endeavors: Earth Science, Heliophysics, Solar System Exploration, and Astrophysics. Goddard plays a leading role in NASA’s accomplishments by contributing compelling scientific knowledge to advance the Agency’s mission.
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I don't recommend this shot boys and girls, but I took it and was lucky to walk away from it with only a warning from a no nonsense, no joking, no reasoning with armed security guard. I got the bright idea to drive up the road into the papermill just to see what I could see after remembering that the train would go into the loop track and turn back into the sun. I casually pulled into a semi truck staging lot outside of the main gate and proceeded to fire away as the train was slowly making his way into the loop and started to turn into the sun as expected. Suddenly Officer Friendly arrived in his little truck, with amber lights flashing, and quickly approached me to let me know that under no certain terms that I was trespassing and couldn't take pictures here. I was nice, I was friendly, I tried a little humor, and I even used the "just give me 30 seconds to get the shot and I'll be gone". All to no avail as he repeated himself again, this time louder, and asked for my ID. After looking at it, he instructed me to follow him to the gate office immediately and waited for me to put my camera away. The c@#kblock even made sure I didn't take anymore pictures before he turned and walked back to his truck. All the while the train made the full turn into the sun and stopped at the dumper shed. After we got to the office, a copy of my ID was made for the file and the warning of "Don't come back here again or I'll call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing." With license in hand, I bid him a good day and left his immediate area. I may have snagged another shot from further down the road and out of his sight as I left.
Of the two most difficult birds that just don't sit still, the bushtit and the chickadee, the Chestnut-backed Chickadee is the most difficult to capture. Not only does it flit from branch to branch and rarely gives a clean shot, this chickadee loves the deep leafy trees like the Japanese maples. I suppose it gives them protection, but there's no reasoning with them that they have nothing to fear from me!
This Duple 'Vista' bodied Bedford OB was originally registered GBL 200 and new to Chiltonian, Chilton Foliat in 1950. The reasoning for the reregistration LJO 757 and restoration in South Midland colours in unclear. Here it is seen at the Oxford Bus Museum, Long Hanborough in June 1985.
Happy Lunar New Year!
If you were born in a Year of the Rabbit:
>>To outsiders, the Rabbit’s kindness may make them seem soft and weak. In truth, the Rabbit’s quiet personality hides their confidence and strength. They are steadily moving towards their goal, no matter what negativity the others give them.
With their good reasoning skills and attention to detail, they make great scholars. They are socializers with an attractive aura. However, they find it hard to open up to others and often turn to escapism.
A plain and routine life is not their style. Though conservative and careful in their actions, they need surprises every so often to spice things up.<<
This, and much more, here: chinesenewyear.net/zodiac/rabbit/
22/365
;-) Texto en castellano mas abajo ;-)
Excuse me the many mistakes that sure I have committed in the translation, I hope that it is understood regardless!
Development of the trilogy blog – pride – persons.
The second part of this trilogy that I dedicate to explain, and to explain myself, because I use the captions (feet) of my photos as if they were my personal blog. This time I will comment because I feel proud, basing on my concept of person that I exposed in the first photo of the trilogy.
I am a heterosexual crossdresser girl. It is a fact … but, what does it means? If I you tell the truth, I don´t know it with certainty. It seems as if every crossdresser girl had her own definition … probably because there are many branches inside the crossdress … but this it is another theme. I suppose that to the others happen like to me, I am ashamed instinctively of this facet of my life, it is something cultural, the image of the "transvestite" is at least ridiculous, laughable, even I fall down in it without thinking it. It is like if it was so unnatural, so out of place, so incomprehensibly … why a sane man, that considers himself as man, would try to pass off as a woman?... And this it is the nice image, also there is the vicious image, in which you are a disgusting pervert which who know how many more barbarities will do. It is not to feel very proud … not. But the reason wins to the instinct, I am a person, and as such I have reasoning and feelings, and they say to me that this it is not the reality, it is not my reality. Maybe it is a parafilia, as some people say, or maybe it is the aptitude to overcome the assigned role and experiencing positive sensations that are denied to us without reason. I do not have answers, disease or quality, I don´t know, but I know that I do not have motives for which to be ashamed. I am a person, with multiple characteristics, but none of them defines me lonely and to be a crossdresser girl is not the exception, only it is a small part of me. Globally I am not discontented with me, do not understand me badly, I should improve very much as person, but if tomorrow I would die and I would have to give account for my life and for what I am, I believe that I would go out in peace, and it is a motive of pride. The global pride like person, to feel yourself well with total honesty is what really matters. And the pride for the different characteristics that I have? It is a different pride, with different purposes, bad some as arrogance, and other more positive as the reaffirmation. The pride that I feel for be a crossdress girl is of this type. If the things were as they should be, surely I would not feel proud for it, would be another characteristic more as to have small foot or the dark eyes. But unfortunately the things are not like that, and some groups have had to use pride as method of defense, as reaffirmation against discriminations and injustices.The example most clear is the homosexuality. I am hetero and it allows me to see the situation from out, impartially, and I believe that they do very well in feeling proud, because understandable better or worse, what harm do it?, why to make to feel badly to a person for a quality that goes implicit in that person?... My crossdress does not harm anybody either and though I can give up practising it, it is not anything that could make disappear of me, as I cannot change my liking or my way of being, it is a part of my intimate self. So, if I see it good for the others, why not for me?
I look around and see so many motives for what the people should be ashamed, so many attitudes, so many actions that cause so much harm … And later I look at me, being ashamed instinctively for wearing a dress or for feeling feminine … Not … I refuse to accept it, it is possible that in the moment I could not avoid the instinct, but I refuse to accept consciously a shame that does not correspond to me, because of it I am proud! This one is not an allegation in order that we all go out to the light and feel us superproud (though it would be very well also I understand that it is very difficult and dangerous), it is for feeling us well with ourselves and we do not torture psychologically ourselves without motive. The crossdress makes me feel good, and when I dress and look at the mirror, there goes out for me a smile of satisfaction and pride. I am proud!!
Desarrollo de la trilogía blog-orgullo-personas.
Segunda parte de esta trilogía que dedico a explicar, y a explicarme a mi misma de paso, el porque utilizo los pies de fotos como si fueran mi blog personal. Esta vez os comentaré porqué me siento orgullosa, basándome en mi concepto de persona que expuse en la primera foto de la trilogía.
Soy una chica crossdresser heterosexual. Es un hecho… pero, ¿que significa eso? Si os digo la verdad, ni yo misma lo se con seguridad. Parece como si cada chica cd tuviera su propia definición… quizás porque hay muchísimas ramas dentro del crossdress… pero ese es otro tema. Supongo que a las demás os pasará como a mí, me avergüenzo instintivamente de esta faceta de mi vida, es algo cultural, la imagen del “travesti” es como mínimo ridícula, risible, yo misma caigo en eso sin pensarlo. Es como si fuera tan antinatural, tan fuera de lugar, tan incomprensible… ¿por que un hombre cuerdo, que se considera hombre, intentaría pasar por mujer?... Y esa es la imagen amable, también está la imagen viciosa, en la que eres un pervertido asqueroso que ha saber que barbaridades mas hará. No es para sentirse muy orgullosa… no. Pero la razón vence al instinto, soy una persona, y como tal tengo razonamiento y sentimientos, y ellos me dicen que esa no es la realidad, no es mi realidad. Quizás se trate de una parafilia como dicen algunos, o quizás sea la capacidad de superar el rol asignado y experimentar sensaciones positivas que nos son negadas sin razón. No tengo respuestas, enfermedad o cualidad, no lo se, lo que si se es que no tengo motivos por los que avergonzarme. Soy una persona, con múltiples características, pero ninguna de ellas me define por si sola y ser una chica cross no es la excepción, solo es una pequeña parte de mi. Globalmente no estoy descontenta de mi misma, no me entendáis mal, debería de mejorar muchísimo como persona, pero si mañana muriera y tuviera que rendir cuentas sobre mi vida y lo que soy, creo que saldría en paz, y eso es motivo de orgullo. El orgullo global como persona, el sentirse bien con una misma de forma totalmente sincera es lo que realmente importa. ¿Y el orgullo por las diferentes características que tengo? Ese es un orgullo distinto, con distintas finalidades, algunas malas como la soberbia, y otras mas positivas como la reafirmación. El orgullo que siento por ser una chica crossdress es de este tipo. Si las cosas fueran como deberían de ser, seguramente no me sentiría orgullosa por ello, sería otra característica mas como el tener los pies pequeños o los ojos negros. Pero desgraciadamente las cosas no son así, y algunos colectivos han tenido que tirar de orgullo como método de defensa, como reafirmación ante discriminaciones e injusticias. El ejemplo mas claro de esto es la homosexualidad. Yo soy hetero y eso me permite ver la situación desde fuera, imparcialmente, y creo que hacen muy bien en sentirse orgullosos, porque se entienda mejor o peor, ¿que mal hacen a nadie?, ¿por que hacer sentir mal a una persona por una cualidad que va implícita en ella?... Mi crossdress tampoco hace mal a nadie y aunque puedo renunciar a practicarlo, no es algo que pueda hacer desaparecer de mí, al igual que no puedo cambiar mis gustos o mi forma de ser, es parte de mi yo íntimo. Así que si lo veo bien para los demás, ¿por que no para mí?
Miro alrededor y veo tantos motivos por lo que la gente debería avergonzarse, tantas actitudes, tantas acciones que hacen tanto mal… Y después me miro a mí, avergonzándome instintivamente por ponerme un vestido o por sentirme femenina… No… no lo acepto, puede que en el momento no pueda evitar el instinto, pero me niego a aceptar conscientemente una vergüenza que no me corresponde, ¡por eso estoy orgullosa! Este no es un alegato para que salgamos todas a la luz y nos sintamos superorgullosas (aunque eso estaría muy bien también entiendo que es muy difícil y peligroso), sino para que nos sintamos bien con nosotras mismas y no nos martiricemos psicológicamente sin motivo. El crossdress me hace sentir bien, y cuando me visto y me miro al espejo, me sale una sonrisa de satisfacción y orgullo. ¡¡Estoy orgullosa!!
PS: Si quieres ver un video con este look (If you want see a video with this look):
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GHQJ03rBJg
Si quieres ver una versión reducida en Flickrs (If you want see a small version in Flickrs):
www.flickr.com/photos/61410455@N08/6319457850/in/photostream
I decided to change things up a bit and post a winter image of Crater Lake.. My reasoning for this is because I know areas of the country are going through heat waves right now.. so it is my hope that when you view this image it will cool you down some... :-)
Nick Boren Photography ©
Please…. No Invites or Graphics
This duck has established a feral domestic population in Florida, and the state deems it a nuisance. I'm not sure what there reasoning is nor do I agree with it. Naples, Florida, 2014.
The duck test is a form of abductive reasoning. This is its usual expression: If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck. The test implies that a person can identify an unknown subject by observing that subject's habitual characteristics.
facts of traveling.
you will be in the train, you will look up the window, you will see this. you will probably think on why. reason will not come to you. the train will move on to campina, ploiesti, etc. another day, week, season, year, will come. same you, different train. for reasons unknown
Slinking away, still smirking over how rewardingly gullible the bejeweled wealthy girls in silky dresses had proven, Angie unexpectedly came across fresh, opulently inviting, prey.
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Angelique D. at play
Angie D
Circa 1915
Case study 113 subset b
Early development: “Pickpocket” of worn Jewelry
Sub title:
What is it about rich girls that make them so lucratively gullible?
Quoted by Subject: log 1959
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What:
Along a path just outside where a departing congregation of a small church still gathered.
Where
The outskirts of Chestermere:
When:
An early fall day, in the year of our Lord 1915
Who:
An appealing lady wearing a secret smile, clad expensively in a silky top and flowing satiny ruffled skirt, a pair of gold earrings flashing merrily as she strolls.
Excerpted from Diary:
A lady in a cream silk blouse and long blue skirt was walking happily along a path on the outskirts of Chestermere. She was coming from the early Sabbath service of a local chapel, filled with the rousing words of the Parson’s homily. As Angie walked, she hummed a cheerful tune, her conscious, as always, free of any guilty feelings.
Angie was very pleased with herself, and the main source of the pleasure was now bouncing against her thigh as she briskly walked along. For deep in a small pocket hidden well below the waistline of her flowing sleek skirt, was a pretty jeweled pendent on a delicate gold chain.
Only just 15 minutes ago that jeweled pendent was still being worn by a member of a rather wealthy looking family whom had been in attendance at the same Sabbath service. Angie had scoped them out as the family had waltzed in just after the mass had started. The mother was dressed in a pretty white frock with ruffles of lace falling from her throat and wrists, along with a rather nice set of pearls. The rather formal and severe father was in a “monkey suit”, a gold pocket watch and fob stretched across his rather bulging waist. The pair had their hands full with two rambunctious , pre-adolescent twin boys, who had continually distracted them during and after the lengthy service. Which was good, from Angie’s point of view anyway, for it left the parents totally ignoring their seventeen year old daughter , at the end of the pew, standing with a sultry air about her.
The daughter was wearing a rather fancy party dress of thick red silk. Dangling down the front of the sheer red silk bodice, on a thin gold chain, was an attention grabbing deep green emerald starburst pendent that fell swaying from her dress’s high neckline. It had been the sleek dress that had whetted Angie’s interest, but it was the pendent that kept that interest focused during the entire service, delightedly eyeing the pendant’s shimmeriness in the low candle lit church. During the communion procession she had managed to slip in behind her in order to closer scrutinize the prospect, soaking in the expectations of acquiring it from the unsuspecting proper acting young lady..
As the service ended, the family joined in the stream of the departing congregation. Angie followed closely, looking for her chance. It came when the Parson stopped the father to ask a question, a group soon huddled around the mother and the twins. As everyone bent over to focus attention on the twins, including their sister, Angie circled her prey and slipped in close, hovering briefly over her back before darting in. In one fluid motion, Angie lifted with one practiced hand the chain and flicked open the thin clasp, nimbly catching the swaying pendent in her other hand as it fell, whisking the sparkling emeralds and chain away and palming it from sight. Absolutely no one noticed the flashy necklace as it vanished from the front of the sister’s silky dress. Angie had continued on her way, clutching the pendent, and headed straight out the door without looking back. Instead of heading back the short 3 miles to her hotel in the city, she decided to head out towards the woods, where she planned to lay low until dusk.
Angie now turned her head to have a look behind her at the distant chapel and the people milling about, her gold plated earrings flashing as she did so. Good, she thought, no one was following her, and she, in total security that she was out of danger, crossed off the path and went on the road.
Angie strolled along the country lane, trees lining it turning red and yellow in their autumn gowns, for quite some time, before she became aware of a band playing off in the distance.. Then turning a bend in the lane, through the thin wall of woods, she spied a wedding reception up on a hill by a white stone Church. From her vantage point she could see a multitude of colourful , richly shimmering gowns and the occasional sparkle of , she hoped , opulent jewelry.
As good luck would have it, she decides to crash the party. She was dressed for it, she was hungry, and who knows what pickings she may find inside to increase her earthly riches ,as the Parson had been saying! She walked around, skirting the woods and came across a hillside garden with rose covered arbors and bright flower lined paths. Two grubby boys of about ten and twelve were playing in the woods on the opposite side, by a small pond surrounded thickly with Rhododendron s. She entered the Garden and made her way up the winding path, coming out onto a small field with benches that lay on the opposite side of the church and the auditorium entrance to the reception.
Angie entered the crowded auditorium underneath the Church. She helped herself to the food buffet and sat outside enjoying her meal, as she watched the richly dressed crowd. A young man came up and asked her to dance, which she did happily, and just as happily lifted his gold watch and fob. And, too boot, after a few dances with him, she had become a part of his circle, happily mingling, and rubbing elbows with the obviously wealthy guests he presented her to. Including an introduction to his pretty faced teenage sister, who was sporting a pretty diamond ring on all too slender finger, that she kept waving in Angie’s face as she played with her long silky hair.
Angie soon left them and started to stalk about for a bit, noting that most of the guests were older, more mature specimens. There seemed to be a lack of young, well dressed children around, whose shiny offerings had been Angie’s main bread and butter for almost two years.. She had just come to the conclusion that she would have to settle for picking a few pockets or purses before leaving. She started to look around for the bloke with the fancy gold pocket watch who had first asked her to dance….
Then she saw her.
The lady was moving through the crowd, on the arms of a man half her age, giggling, not paying attention to anything else around her. She wore a long gown of a shimmery purple silk. But it was not the gown that had caught Angie’s eye, but the jeweled brooch that hung from the gowns cleavage, shadowed by its mistress’s ample bosom. Like the figurehead in a seagoing schooner it came, shimmering in the dazzling light of at least a hundred diamond chips, surrounded by an oval of blazing sapphires. Angie’s fingers tingled. It was time.
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Now, it had been better than three years ago when Angie had run across an ancient, toothless Gypsy in a long black dress with a faded shawl around her shoulders, who had spoken Angie’s fortune. When she had read Angie’s palm, she looked Angie dead in the eyes, a most knowing kind of look. Then she had risen, motioning Angie to stay and came back with a rather battered old pamphlet she wanted Angie to look over. Entitled the Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip by “Gaston Monescu, 1826”, it covered the various tactics and moves used by master pickpockets. Including whole chapters on successful “Methodes” of relieving a wealthe lady of her” jeweles”.
The Gypsy Woman, who had hovering over Angie as she had read deeply into the pamphlet moved and sat back down across from her.
Angie ,who by this time in her quite young life, was already an accomplished cutpurse and picker of pockets, looked up at the gypsy, grinned, and asked if it was worth her while. The Gypsy just smiled, reached up and opened her dirty laced shawl, revealing the silvery necklace that Angie had been wearing when she had come in. Amazed she traded the necklace for the pamphlet on the spot and quickly began putting its teachings into play.
Angie soon mastered this new level of her chosen craft.
She had started on mannequins: clothing them in long silky dresses and jewelry. She had practiced for months, first in a rented studio apartment, then in a secret basement located in an isolated, deserted old barn and then its surrounding woods. Soon she felt confident enough to go out and try it in the crowded streets amongst shopping women. She met with great success, but her gains were only a pittance. Still she practiced, and had gotten so adept that she soon was moved onto more affluent hunting grounds.
She reasonably started out with weddings. For the phamplett had suggested starting out at formal parties where there would be an abundance of youngsters dressed in their best by parents wanting to show their off female issues to an adoring public( in the minds of the wealthy parents, anyway). So she went, seeking out young, easily distracted young girls who were not used to wearing the array of enticing jewels placed on them by overly enthusiastic parents.
Angie’s first time out was met with some rather sweet success. A large day time wedding reception in Nova Scotia, held in a public park by a majestic sweeping waterfall.
Late at the reception, as she was still prowling without making any formal attempts, she soon noticed that the adults at the gathering were becoming quite gay with drink, and noticeably paying less attention to their children. Said children began to wonder off in groups, exploring and starting to run about playing games, their gowns and dresses whispering a Pied Piperish tune to Angie’s ears, their shiny jewels luring her ever closer.
Angie soon started to follow a pair of young ladies who had scampered off to explore.
One was an impish girl with long black hair flowing down, drawing ones attention to the frilly white dress she was wearing. Gold chain earrings dancing merrily from her ears, as a longish gold herringbone chain shimmering brightly in the sun as it lay hanging from her silk dresses’’ high neckline.
Her partner in crime was a most fascinating subject. A charmingly bright green eyed proper young imp, a couple of years older than white dress, with a rather pronounced Welsh accent, much like Agie’s remembered her parents having. Her silken red hair lay down her back in a neat long French braid. A long thin satin gown of emerald green swished as she ran with the awkwardness of youth to keep up with her new friend. A matching satin bow was tied just below her throat, its ends trailing down to her svelte waistline. At the bows center was fastened a glittering rhinestone pin. She also was wearing a small rhinestone necklace that encircled her throat just above the bow. Her ears were home to a pretty pair of clasped rhinestone earrings that matched the pattern of her necklace. Around one short shiny green satin gloved wrist was a brite rhinestone bracelet.
The duo found the waterfall, by which a photographer had set up a camera. Angie approached the lovely pair, and easily started up a conversation, helped by the fact that as an adult, she was not scolding them for walking off. They seemed pleased that Angie was actually doing the exact opposite, like a favored auntie, she was encouraging them to explore.
Angie led them around a bend for a different view of the cascading waterfall, out of earshot of the reception. She helped the black haired lass, Basil, up to sit on a small stone wall for a better look, also helping to slip off the shiny gold herringbone necklace from her throat with an almost effortless ease in the process. As, with itching fingers, she contemplated what to do about Basil’s gold earrings, Angie started to watch Lydia.
Oblivious to what was going on around her, the red head, Lydia, was standing next to Angie, looking over the fence which just reached her shoulders. Here dear, Angie said, after pocketing the purloined gold necklace, you’re messing up your pretty dress. Angie turned the girl towards her, reached over and said, here, let my fix your bow, darling. Lydia allowed Angie to retie it, as Basil, her back to them, happily was watching, enraptured, the splashing water. Angie finished undoing and retying Lydia’s satin bow, neatly removing the pretty rhinestone pin in the process, then as she straightened the girl’s color, Angie had her turn around. As Lydia obediently did so, Angie flicked open the rhinestone necklaces clasp, and peeled off the flashy necklace from around Lydia’s throat as she turned round. Just like that, Lydia’s rhinestone necklace went the same way of er pin, both ending up with the gold chain in a secret pocket hidden in the folds of Angie’s skirt.
Angie stood behind Lydia, placing her hands on Lydia’s slick silken covered shoulders, all three watching the waterfall. Angie’s left hand caressingly, ever so lithely inched down along Lydia’s side, reaching the girls wrist. As Angie engaged them in conversation, she slowly worked off the bracelet, leaving only the pretty earrings as her last challenge.
Angie lifted her right hand and slowly moved it up to one of the girl’s dangling earrings, sparkling in the waterfalls’ reflection.. With her left hand she pointed upstream. As both girls turned their heads to look, off came a rhinestone earring. Angie than playfully lifted Lydia’s long French braid and laid it over Lydia’s shoulder, below her now bare ear. She turned to look down, giggling, and as she did so, Angie plucked away the remaining earring; it easily came off and joined its companion with the rest of the collection of jewelry in Angie’s secret pocket. Amazed that the process of removing young Lydia’s jewels had gone off so easily, Angie almost wished Lydia had been wearing bells like one of her sleekly gowned practice mannequins. Her reasoning being that she would know if it was because her skill level was that good, or just the fact that Lydia was just an unworldly youth easily distracted. Whatever the reason, Angie, feeling fresh inspiration, looked over at the chirpy basil, and her shiny gold earrings.
Angie moved behind Basil, placing her hands upon the slippery waistline of her silk dress, then leaned forward, whispering in the girls ear, tickling it with her breath. As Basil giggled Angie reached up gently lifted the gold chain earring up from the lobe of the girl’s opposite ear lobe. Then nimbly with her thumb and index finger, flicked open the hinge clasp and neatly removed the earring, watching for any reaction from her victim. Basil never felt a thing, Lydia was still watching the waterfall, equally as oblivious. Angie kept her chin close to Basil’s ear, and the remaining earring. Cautiously she moved her fingers up, and then darting in with them, successfully repeated the maneuver. As the earring joined the rest of her collection, Angie could not help thinking that if all her future endeavors were as successful, she could end up living quite a comfortable lifestyle.
Angie stayed a few more minutes, keeping the pair distracted the whole time before she cautiously moved off, leaving the two of them there by stream. Basil happily perched on the stone wall, and Lydia bent down, busily plucking at the moss growing on the old stones. Both girls still quite fetching in their pretty gowns, both a bit less weighted down by any added trimmings.
For the next year, fueled by her early success, she started focusing entirely on wedding receptions. Honing her skills until it became almost mundane for her nimble fingers to lift a jewel, no matter where is was being worn by a squirming young lady upon her fancy dressed person. And, actually, some of her acquisitions where worth a surprising bit of dough when pawned.
Favored Case in Point:
It was in New Hampshire, on her 24th outing late during the wedding season of the following year when she came upon a rather prim young miss of about 13, clad in a long sleeved thick yellow satin blouse, a black velvet vest and matching gold and black vertical striped satin skirt. A young raven haired bumble bee with no stinger, but with pearls, black pearls in a long string dangling down along the front of her shiny back buttoned blouse. She was also wearing matched black pearled earrings, and a small, daintily jeweled pin in the shape of a humming bird on her velvet vest. She was sitting alone at a table, playing with some crayons and a book. Angie, who had been watching her for some time from a bar stool, had come up and caught the pretty little things full attention, easily capturing her interest, then, finally, suggesting they go and watch the activity on the ballroom floor from a small alcove in a corner. Liking the adventurous way Angie had suggested it, the bumble bee had eagerly followed Angie away from the table.
Angie continued making small talk as the pretty thing was watching the exquisitely gown guests on the dance floor, including the girls’ parents. She was met with youthful exuberance by the youth, who was so enthralled with the activity on the dance floor that she was as unaware of what was going on around her , much like one of Angie’s practice Mannequins. After quite easily removing the dainty jeweled pin, Angie’s subtle fingers were able to lift up and flick open the rhinestone clasp of the child’s pearled necklace. Angie than coolly waited for a prime moment before whisking away the wholly distracted young miss’s gleaming black strand of pearls from around the high ruffled collar of her yellow satin blouse.
And also, like one of her gowned and jeweled practice Mannequins, the young girl never noticed anything amiss as Angie continued on with her conversation for quite some time afterwards. It was daring, but exciting as Angie kept stealing looks at the bare front of the glossy yellow blouse where the pearls had hung down so deliciously, knowing they were in her own pocket, so close, but for the young lady, so far.. Finally she decided she was pressing her luck, and she wished the child a goodnight, before beating a hasty exit,( but not before circling back to the now deserted table and heartlessly lifted the fat, expensively made purses, of both the young girl, and her mother!)
The jeweled hummingbird pin, and string of matched black pearls, dainty and long, fetched a pawned price that left whetted Angie’s appetite for more!
So, it was after this that Angie, looking for fresher, richer challenges, decided to seek out slightly older prey in their natural habitats, proms and social teenage dances. Where real gems, usually borrowed from their mothers or Grandmothers, would be replacing rhinestones.
Still very youthful looking despite her twenty something age, Angie’s first attempt was an upscale dance she had come across while out about in a neighboring city. It was held in an old ballroom for a local boy’s prep school and their dates. Figuring the girls attending would be ripe for the picking in tight gowns and loose fitting jewels, Angie stole inside for a closer look. The only obstacle was getting one of the begowned girls away from her group long enough to make a play for something of value that she was wearing.
But, Angie came away with nothing but valuable experience on that first attempt.
And it was actually her third try before she met with success in the form of a gold bracelet. It was at a formal dance being held in a large room of a rather posh hotel called the Red Lion Inn. She had gone in for a peek, and spying a pretty young thing heading for the ladies room, fell in step behind her. She was a long brown haired girl, wearing a short silk dress, blue, forming the perfect backdrop for her mouthwatering selection of shimmering gold jewellery. Waiting in a small alcove, Angie made her move as the young lady came back out the door. Bumping against her, Angie’s right hand held onto the youngster by the waist, drawing her close, as she steadied herself, apologizing. At the same time, Angie placed her left hand on the unsuspecting mark’s left wrist, easily flicking open the clasp of the thick gold etched bracelet and slipping it off and away. The young lady, accepting Angie’s apology, went on her way, and Angie, swiftly darted for the nearest exit, securing the rather overly brite bracelet in her bosum.
Over the spring and early summer dance seasons Angie practiced, acquiring bracelets and rings down pat using her skillfully developing fingers. She soon also was having some success with necklaces, including one with a long gold chain and a flower pendent set with a diamond carpel surrounded by ruby petals that had turned a quite tidy profit.
Then there had been the night of her first big haul, at a private girl’s school homecoming in Connecticut
She had started out by finally selecting and shadowing a young lady clad a slinky black dress, draped in her mother’s diamonds. Angie was drooling over a flashy wide glittering gemmed silver bracelet that hung loosely from the young vixen’s limp wrist. She was sure it was made up of real diamond chips. As the girl squirmed past Angie heading to the dance floor, her bracelet was easily plucked off the wrist of her black elbow length satin glove and secured deep in the bosom of Angie’s dress.
It was now becoming all too easy, smirked Angie as she unflappably headed out of the exit with her trophy. But, as she crossed the street, she was stopped by a hard looking Italian thug who emerged from the shadows. Angie at first thought wanted to mug her for her earrings, but it turned out he just wanted to see a girl who was inside attending the dance . He described her, and Angie, her interest growing, agreed to locate her and give her his message to meet him outside.
Angie went inside and soon found the girl. All her wishes had been answered. The unsuspecting lass was both richly gowned and even more richly jeweled, combined with zero common sense. This fidgeting girl had been seeing the young Italian on the sly, away from her disapproving family and friends. Angie led her out the back way, the opposite side of the Dance Parlor where the Italian was waiting in an alley.
Angie pointed across the street towards an entirely different Alleyway, offering to wait with her when the girl balked about going down it. As they waited, Angie fawned over the poor, beautifully adorned young innocent. Helping her straighten her luxurious gown, and helping her primp her long hair, so she would look just right for her east end Romeo. After waiting ten minutes, Angie instructed the girl to wait, while she went out and peeked down the street to see what was keeping her lover.
As she left, Angie stole a look back at the still primping young lass, eyeing her slinky gown, and remaining jewels, before heading off down the street, looking into her palm at the pair of long Garnet and diamond earrings that lay nestled, glittering fire there. She then placed them into a secret pocket, joining them with the girl’s small, expensive matching pendent, liberated as Angie had helped her negotiate a curb with her stiletto heels. Both pieces of the lass’s jewelry shared the same pocket with the wide silver bracelet encrusted with diamond chips that Angie had taken earlier..
More than once since then, Angie wondered if the ditzy, well jeweled girl ever had made it back out of that alleyway unscathed.
The experience had even more so whetted Angie’s appetite. So, even though she was still practicing on younger females, she was now dying to ply her trade upon mature women displaying the real McCoy.
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So it was with that in mind that Angie now watched, with itching fingers, the beckoning brooch. Though Angie was still unsure enough of trying her abilities on wealthy ladies who would not be as easily distracted as young girls, the timing felt right. As the lady recklessly displaying the brooch passed, her attention lost in the arms of her lover, Angie turned and followed, getting a close look first at the brooch and its pin, noting that it was not tightly clasped onto the gowns thin material.
As the couple headed to a table they passed two wealthy dames arguing vigorously with each other. Pricey rings flashing as they pointed fingers emphatically in each other’s face. On the side of table away from the pair, but near to Angie as she was passing by, lay a small, fat silvery clutch purse . Figuring that any dames loaded down with that many gems should be carrying a healthy wad of dosh in it, Angie, on the fly, took action.
As she passed she snatched it, and slipping it under her arm turned and headed towards the ladies powder room. Just before entering Angie looked back watching as the two still argued, gemmed rings flashing she had gotten away with it! Going into a stall she scrutinized the clutch for its valuables; disappointed to find only a fiver, some loose change, and a silky laced handkerchief. How cheap can you get she thought ruefully over the wasted effort? Hiding the clutch in the folds of her satin skirt, she left the stall, passing a lady applying makeup in a mirror. She was very pretty in a fluid teal gown, wearing dazzling white pearls upon her ears, neck and wrists. Something about this lady seemed familiar, and Angie’s senses started to sound an alarm. Catching each other’s eye, Angie nodded, but the lady appeared not to recognize Angie, nor Angie her, but the feeling still lingered. Angie left ,guardedly perplexed.
Angie went to the bar to have a drink while she thought about who the lady may have been. She was in a position to see the dance floor and she soon spotted the purple clad lady with the brooch Angie had her eye on, again in a deep embrace with her lover. The Brooch would be profitable, but risky as along as she stuck close with the Boyfriend. Angie needed a way to get him out of the picture for a while. It was as she considered several options to carry out the challenge that Angie again spotted the lady in teal , dancing with a tall red headed man. . Cold prickles like ice ran down her spine, It was the pearls! She suddenly remembered who the lady, and her dance partner were!
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Only 5 days ago she had been starting her third week operating in Calgary. She had been following a rather attractive, obviously wealthy woman, wearing an eye catching purple silk dress, carrying a dress bag and some smaller parcels. Close at her side was an unheeded calfskin purse. Alongside the lady was a smaller version, obviously her daughter, a girl of about 14. She was wearing a white shiny turtleneck with an equally shiny long tiered skirt. Both of her hands were occupied with department store bags also. When the ladies darted into a swanky hotel ,Angie had followed, she always had had luck in these types of establishments. They had entered a crowded lift and Angie had worked her way in behind the pair, riding up with them in the rickety contraption. Mother and Daughter got off on 12 and Angie stayed on until 15, exiting with not only the fat wallet from the calfskin purse, but also the shiny gold herringbone necklace that had been flashing from the daughter’s throat, securely in her pocket.
Angie decided to call it a day. She had already made about 30 dollars from wallets lifted at the department store she had been working over when she had spotted the mother and daughter at the checkout. The mother was paying from a thick wad of cash, and judging from the jewelry of both were an indication of how wealthy the family was. She had followed them out onto the street and it had paid off in spades. Now, all she had to do was find an exit. She saw a stairwell next to a slightly open door with a maids cart outside. She stopped and hovered over the cart to peer inside the room. It was at that moment a door opened on the opposite side of the hallway.
A red headed man in an open tux shirt came out of a room, looking at the cart, and Angie standing next to it. Seizing the opportunity, Angie quickly asked if he needed something. I was looking for a maid; I spilled some wine on the cashmere carpet. Seeing the name Bannister above the bell, she said sweetly, certainly Mr. Bannister, I can have someone take care of that for you.. I was just coming up to let you know there is an urgent message down at the desk for you. (Quick improvisation was a special talent of Angie’s.) Why didn’t you bring it, he started to snap, than , never mind, just get a maid, and he headed towards the elevator.
Angie picked up the towels and headed cautiously into the massive suite. From the bedroom off one side she heard running water. She looked around quickly, seeing many valuable articles, but nothing small enough to quickly conceal. She took the towels into the bedroom.
Angie went into the bedroom, expertly taking everything in. A long silver lamee gown lay out on the bed. On the vanity lay a silvery purse, a pair of long silver satin gloves , a silver watch, silver necklace, a pair of long dangling silver earrings, and a small blue velvet pouch. On a side dresser laid a man’s thick gold watch and a money clip with a wad of bills, a tenner showing on top. In less than a minute after entering the room she had scooped up the money clip, watches, silver jewelry and gloves stuffing them into the purse and lifting up her long skirt hid it in one of its secret pockets. She lifted up the pouch and found it was empty. A picture on the vanity showed an attractive lady in a black dress and pearls. She briefly wondered where the pearls were, did not see any likely spot, and so had turned to make a hasty exit, when a feminine voice called out from the bathroom where a shower could be heard running. Steam was coming out from the slightly ajar door.
Dear, a refined voice stated, I have soap in my eyes and cannot find the washcloth. Angie, smelling an opportunity, peaked her head around the corner into the steamy bathroom. There was a shower stall with glass doors at the end of the long room with a double sink running along the side. From the hook by the shower hung a peach negligee and matching long robe. The door was open slightly and a very soapy femine hand was reaching out trying to feel along a towel bar, just missing a hanging washcloth.
A soapy hand from which glittered a pretty gold pinky ring set with small diamonds. Angie went over and pulling off the washcloth, rapped on the glass door , receiving a thank you dear in return as the hand reached out for it. Angie wiped off the protruding hand, and a dry voice said, no, not my hand dear, as the washcloth was plucked playfully from Angie’s grasp , and the door closed. Angie bent down and picked up the diamond pinky ring that had been slipped from the showering woman’s finger by the wash cloth, from the carpeted floor underneath the shower door. she than turned ran a hand along the satin rode, looking around. Bingo, on the counter lay a pair of sparkly long diamond earrings. Dumbstruck at her luck she grabbed them off the sink. , she was jolted back to realty when the voice again called out, are you still there dear? She scurried out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
She was at the apartment door in a flash, opening it a crack to make sure the coast was clear, it was. In the hallway Angie headed for the stairs because she knew that Bannister was far too important a man to take a stairway. She had been in the apartment less than 4 minutes, and had probably looted it of enough valuables to more than double her take so far of the last three weeks since arriving in Calgary. Leaving by a back exit she came out of a small alley. Looking over she spotted the young lady whose necklace she had lifted in the elevator kneeling down and looking in some bushes. Her shiny skirt pleasantly splayed out upon the ground around her. Angie briskly walked past her and off down the street. She made it without incident to the dingy apartment she was renting by the day. Collecting her meager belongings Angie checked out immediately. Leaving by bus for Chestermere, where at a small bank she rented a safety deposit box to stash all her ill-gotten gains for safe keeping until the heat wore down a bit.
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Now Back to the Present
Angie now knew how lucky she had been. The red headed man, Bannister, may have recognized her. Calgary was too close to Chestermere , she should have been more cautious when scoping out the receptions guests. Angie turned and headed to the bar to think the situation over.
She saw the young man whose watch she had lifted, talking to an older, pretty lady laden with pearls. Behind them stood his sister, her diamond ring sparkling as she twirled her hair. Angie circled wide, coming up behind the lad, she grabbed his shoulder, why hello there. He smiled, introducing her to his Aunt, whose jeweled fingers she took into her hand in a gracious shake. He continued talking to his Aunt, it seems that they were discussing a family matter of some importance .Angie, finding the rings were tight on the Aunt’s chubby fingers, let go of her hand and moved over to the sister, and engaged her in conversation, moving a little off so that the sister turned her back to her brother and aunt.
The sister twittered, curling her hair impishly as Angie asked her why she wasn’t dancing. No ones asked, she giggled nervously. What about the boy who has been watching you all eyeing, Angie nodded her head outwards, the girl turned , her hair flying, as she lowered her hand, which Angie took up, petting it in a conspiratorial fashion, go over and ask him, Angie suggested. Go an ask him? I don’t see him she said, but I couldn’t, and she turned back to Angie, flashing her baby blues innocently. That’s okay deary, Angie patted the girl’s hand, keeping her eyes in contact, not allowing her to break the gaze, and perhaps looking down and noticing her loose ring was now gone from her slender finger. Angie took her leave of the sister, and of girl’s annoying nervously twittering giggle. Angie, slipping the diamond ring securely away, continued on until she reached a small alcove from where she could see most of the reception hall.
She lit a cigarette, purple silk and her desirably take able brooch was still safely out of reach on the dance floor, and Bannister’s attention was all on his wife. She thought it over, weighing her options, and the risks that were now in play. The song ended, and the dancers started to head off the floor. Angie’s eyes darted, Red headed Bannister and his wife were heading off to the far side of the room, Purple silk and her partner were heading to the bar. Angie’s heart stopped, no, Purple silk was heading to the bar, her lover was off to the men’s rest room. Angie snubbed out her cigarette, rising to the bait, it was now or never. Like a feral feline, Angie began to slowly stalk her prey.
But then Angie saw her chance slip through her fingers and evaporate into nothingness, like the smoke from her crushed cigarette. For at that moment an older man bumped into the lady Angie was tailing, spilling his drink down the front of her purple silk gown. Angie retreated and watched from a distance. As the man profusely apologized he produced a silk handkerchief and help wipe down the pretty lady. As he did so, the beautiful diamond broach vanished from her bosom. He had been slicker, slicker than Angie was ( for the time being) able to be. Angie felt her heart sink. Not only had she been deprived of the broach, but the existence of another member of her trade meant that she had better scram, not wishing to cross him. She could tell by the look in the man’s eyes that this was one not to be tangled with
Giving up on any plans she had been harboring, she got up, turned her back to the dance floor, headed as quickly as she could to the far exit, keeping her gains, and cutting her (presumed) losses.
Angie reached the door without challenge, opening it, she found stairs leading into the Church above. But first she stole a look back. She observed the man suavely talking to the now brooch less lady wearing purple silk. In that second a long haired (ginger) young lady passed by him, wearing a slinking green satin dress. Angie saw the man watching her walk on bye, and then immediately took his leave of purple silk, and began following the perky girl in green satin, with her savory collection of loosely dangling silver jewelry, heavily encrusted with flickering emeralds.
Angie turned away, and while wondering how she had failed to have spotted that prime prey in green earlier, went to the stairs.
She went up the stairs, coming out into a small chapel in back of the church. A door led to the outside, which Angie took, pouting inwardly, feeling all the world like a child who had been deprived of a desirable toy. She found herself on the side leading down to the Garden from which she had entered. The Church was now in between Angie and the reception, so she felt free to move unobserved. She crossed over to the gardens entrance and headed down the hill.
In front of her was a hedgerow, on the other side, Angie knew, was the small field with benches that lay at the entrance to the gardens proper. It was coming from there that she head the voices of children playing, on the other side, but she paid no heed, her mind was on leaving the area.
As she hurried along the hedgerow she saw something sparkle expensively in the sunlight through one of the gaps in the hedges. She stopped and curiously looked through a small opening. That’s were all the young darlings have been hiding she remarked to herself, her interest peaking. Forgetting all about leaving and lost opportunity of the brooch, she now focused on the new “toy” now dangling its enticement to her. It belonged to a girl in a slithering silvery gown, with her long hair done up in a long plait. Angie eyed the girl’s sparklers, which Angie first took as all rhinestones.. But, as Angie took inventory, her eye focused on a ring that she was wearing on one of her petite fingers. It held a fiery display, diamonds and rubies. There was no way the ring was rhinestone. Looking around to access the situation, Angie decided that by hook or crook, she needed to get a better look.
Watching the colourfully gowned young ladies innocently at play, Angie mused over the golden opportunity just waiting for someone unscrupulous to acquire the jewelry they were wearing. Someone should make them aware Angie decided, surprised that no one older than 16 was watching over them. Knowing that the scene before her was too fertile an opportunity to pass up without at least a long glance, Angie looked around, making sure no adults were about unseen in the woods, or any other nook and cranny of the play area.
Angie had found she had a knack for capturing young, well dressed lady’s interest, much to her amusement, and profit! It was with this in mind that Angie decided to allow herself a few precious minutes to watch from her hidden opening to see what may transpire. There were six children, four young ladies who were obviously dressed for a wedding, and the two urchin boys of about 12 and 10 she had spotted earlier. They were dressed as the local poor farm boys they obviously were. Angie quickly overheard the names of the girls as they called out to one another. .
The group were playing, appropriately enough for Angie’s point of view, a children’s standard game of cops and robbers. All Angie could think about, as she watched the boys with exuberance chasing and holding the giggling, squirming girls, was that there would hopefully be no actual robbing of jewelry as the game was played out. As each girl, Angie quickly memorizing their names, was ”captured” and taken to “prison”, Angie was able to scope them out at leisure.
The youngest Cecilia, about six, was wearing a long smooth gown of deep cream, with a midnight black bolero style jacket of velvet. From her neck was happily swaying a long silver chain with a jeweled winged beetle pendent, her jacket was home to a matching pin.
Cecilia’s older sister, 10 year old Claire, was wearing a puffy blue satin blouse with a long bow dancing down the front. Her long skirt of glistening black flowed in ripples as she ran. Also moving in ripples were the long gold herringbone chains she wore dangling from her neck, as were also her matching earrings and bracelet. A thick, expensively shiny gold ring encircled her middle finger.
Claire’s friend, Abbey, of about the same age, was wearing a longish gown of sunset pink satin, with a white satin sash encircling her waist. At the center of the sash glistened a gold pin set with pearls. Around her throat, dangling from her ears, were glimmering white pearls.
The oldest girl, the one in charge, was a fourteen year old named Amanda. Young and flighty, she kept looking up into the voluminous white clouds in the sky as if trying to see what they were forming. She was dressed in a longish slithering silver princess style gown, the style one may see flowing along the shapely figure of an actress at the moving picture awards ceremony. A fancy necklace with large garnet stones and small diamonds was flapping against her chest as she ran. The necklace matched her long earrings, bracelet, along with her pretty ring. She was wearing a flashy red jeweled head band , with strings of gold and rhinestones interwoven into her long plait of naturally wavy chestnut hair. The head band was all rhinestone, as were the garnets in the rest of her jewels. But what from a distance appeared to be small diamonds in her matching set that separated the garnets, were actually ¼ caret diamonds. Angie, upon realizing this, felt her heart burning with desire at acquiring a piece of the set being so vulnerably dangling from Amanda’s slickly attired person. But a couple of ripping gold herringbone chains, or even a jeweled beetle pendent flicked from a velvet jacket would be nice to acquire also, if only for the practice benefits.
To Angie’s secret joy, Amanda was the last girl to be captured, only because a stone lodged itself in her shoe brining her up lame. She was held by one of the boys, and lead, limping, to the other two girls. As a new game was started, she sat out. She hobbled to a nearby stone bench, brushed herself off , watching the group play before removing her shoe to find the annoying stone.
Angie started to make her move even before Amanda had made it to the stone bench. She reached her as she was shaking her shoe, slipping up alongside her on the cool bench. The girl jumped, but Angie’s special (practiced!) smile soon won her over. Angie soon enticed the young thing into casual conversation, extracting useful information as Angie, feigning a cheerful interest on the outside, while studying the girls expensive gown and drooling over the glistening garnet and diamonds that adorned it on the inside.
Angie tried to direct Amanda’s attention to her young charges, commenting about their pretty baubles, then asking who the boys were, and how well they knew them, about who suggested the game they were playing, how robbers were attracted to pretty things you know, and, were the boys playing the robbers next? Surreptitiously trying to plant seeds of distrust in the immature girls mind, and Angie could see that those seeds had found rich soil. Her intention was to keep the girl distracted long enough for a go at acquiring her necklace.
Angie, not unlike a feral cat, waited patiently for her opportunity to take the necklace from the unassuming Amanda to arise. But the girl was not cooperating; her attention on the playing girls lasting for mere seconds before focusing it back on Angie. Angie decided to use a different tactic. Angie placed an arm around girl’s silken shoulder and pointed up into the fluffy white clouds, asking her if she could see what Angie saw.
In the clouds, Amanda asked? As she leaned back into Angie who drew her close, relishing in the silky , quite scintillating feel of the child’s slick gown. No, Angie thought unkindly, you silly rich twit, the clasp of your necklace is what I see ( her fingers snaked up the backside of the sleek silver gown towards the tantalizingly easy open able clasp). The one you are about to lose to me, she continued thinking before answering the girl.
But seconds later, when Angie did answer, it was with a sweet motherly tone that dripped honey. Yes dear, in the clouds, doesn’t that one look like a soldier, or perhaps a highway man on a horse she inquired to Amanda? No, I think it’s a prince answered Amanda, and Angie thought , not for the first time, about the power of suggestion, for the mass of clouds looking like absolutely nothing but a mass of clouds to her!
But, it was an opportunity opened, and as the guileless girl was happily lost in her thoughts, Angie began to lift the clasp into position. As the necklace move up the girls chest, Angie could see its jewels, all sparkly, as the sun came back, peeking through the clouds. But Angie was not the only one who noticed, for the oldest lad who had been stalking up on the youngest sister’s hiding spot, was attracted by the sparklers now flashing around the distracted girl’s throat.
The boy headed towards them, and Angie’s fingers retreated. As the girl noticed the boy approaching, she gave a nervous giggle, and placed a hand to her throat. Angie began to rise from the bench, feeling the opportunity was slipping away, for the second time that day. But she hesitated a minute, and she was glad she did.
The boy came up and asked Amanda if she was going to play again. He was openly gawking at the necklace Amanda was nervously fiddling as he spoke, and Angie drooled to herself, you dear sweet child. For She could feel Amanda pressing hard into Angie as if seeking protection from his eyes. Angie took action, pointing out the sister the boy had been stalking. Successful diverting the boy’s attention, she sent him after the girl.
Maybe it was the things Angie had been feeding the girl about strangers and playing robbers, or pointing out the highway man in the clouds, but the attention to her necklace by the lad had had an obvious effect on Amanda. Angie, seizing the opportunity, exploited it to the fullest. With an Epiphany like thought, she knew what to say, and do next. And if it worked, then Amanda’s necklace would not be the only bauble acquired by old Angie girl.
Angie shooed the lad away, and he left, reluctantly to rejoin the game in progress. Then, in an inspired bit of deceitful storytelling, Angie related to Amanda a sad tale about an incident in her childhood, one she made up on the spot. The girl listened, still cuddling for whatever reason, as Angie stroked her enticingly attired figure down, relishing in the softness of her gown, along with admiring jewels she was so intent on acquiring. It was not often in Angie’s line of work that she was able to really check out one of her victims in this manner, and she relished every minute of it.
As Angie went full bore into her tale of woe ,she lifted up the attractive necklace from pretty girl’s chest, as she chokingly told the youngster that when she was her age she had been playing dress up in one of her mother’s gowns and had put on some of her mother’s jewelry without her permission.
Angie than took up the girl’s slender hand into hers, fingering gently the pleasingly expensive ring , seeing tin the young ladies eyes that she had struck a chord, and Amanda was totally held captivated with her story. Angie continued on… She had gone outside and over to the playground where a group of older children had convinced her to play a game of cops and robbers. When they had been done playing and Angie had gone home, she discovered some of her mother’s pretty jewelry was missing.
Angie noticed with satisfaction that as she was reaching the end of her story Amanda had stiffened, her heart started beating faster, and she started to check over her own jewelry. Your mother’s than, Angie drooled to herself, she had nailed it on the head. Carpe Diem Angie said to herself, throwing all caution to the wind.
Cops and robbers? That’s the game the boys are having us play, Amanda questioned with visible concern. As she was making this statement, Angie saw with satisfaction Amanda’s open mouth gasping as her eyes went to the boys who were now high in a tree, innocently unaware of what they were underhandedly being accused of eventually attempting to do ( steal the young girls jewelry)!
The two Boys had spotted a bird’s nest and where trying to see if it had eggs as the sisters watched them, backs to the bench where Amanda and Angie sat. Seeing the coast was clear, Angie quickly acted, before her story lost its effect over Amanda. Angie produced the purloined silver purse and pulled out the silky handkerchief. She spread the handkerchief out on Amanda’s silken covered lap, setting the purloined purse down upon her own.
I really think you should put your jewelry somewhere for safekeeping. Why don’t you wrap it up in this handkerchief, you can keep it in my purse. I’ll lend it too you if you promise to bring it back to me when you get back to the reception. Amanda nodded wisely (those earrings were very pretty Angie told herself) , Angie’s heart went to her throat, the young innocent, abroad from the reception, had swallowed Angie’s deviously luring tactic. Here, Angie promised, I’ll start, and she took of her gilded earrings and laid them gently out upon the shiny white surface of the silk handkerchief. This way I won’t lose mine either, she confided in Amanda, who looked back at Angie with her innocently wide blue eyes.
Amanda now showed no inhibitions while reaching up and removing her glittery necklace, laying it gently out upon the handkerchief. It was soon followed by rings and bracelet. Removing the headband and rhinestones chains, undoing her plait in the process, her long hair flowed down her back in curls. It curled up as she laid it upon the ever growing, sweetly glimmering, pile. Then she flung back her long hair and undid the screw backs of her flashy earrings, placing them on top of the heap. Angie’s heart began beating faster as she realized she was going to get away with this! Aw, she thought, as the last of Amanda’s expensively glittering jewels was added to the already glistening pile, wealthy children are so adorably cute when they are being gullible.
When Amanda finished, Angie looked down upon the glittering mound, unbelieving her luck. But then the unimaginable happened. Amanda, laying the handkerchief with its precious cargo on the bench next to her, stood and called back the two sisters and their young friend to the bench.
Angie held her breath as the girls, turned and dutifully ran up to her, the boys still high in the tree, paid no attention to them. Angie watched, almost salivating as the pretty darlings in their fluttering frocks came bouncing back, necklaces flinging in and out, obediently to Amanda’s call.
As they reached Amanda, she told them that they had better remove their jewelry for safe keeping. Why, Challenged Cecilia, with childish accusation? Amanda looked back at the boys in the tree, because I think you may lose them while you play, she scolded. We’re careful Cecilia retorted obstinately, as she looked from Amanda to her sister Claire. Amada looked at Claire, and lifting the girls gold necklace pointed her chin at the tree containing the two boys, and said, they will be the robber’s next game. Claire went wide eyed, and told Cecilia and Abby that they had better do as they were told.
Claire was closest, and with a nod from Amanda, unfastened her necklace and laid it out on the silky handkerchief. They were soon followed by her gold drop earrings, bracelet and ring. She started to back away still wearing her rhinestone hairclips. Don’t forget them… Angie started to say, but was cut off as Amanda told Claire to remove them, which she did promptly. Angie was glad she had been able to hold her tongue.
Cecilia was next. She approached Angie and Amanda, her long dress swishing richly as she came. She politely asked Amanda for help. Turning her back to Amanda she lifted up her long hair, Amanda remover her necklace and pin, laying them upon the growing shimmery pile. Cecilia removed her earrings and ring, happily placing them with the rest. Very pretty Angie said, admiring the dress, she lifted up the sleeve, admiring it, no bracelets, she whispered to herself, as she pulled the silky sleeve back ever so slightly.
Abby than approached, and quietly, obediently, unfastened her pearled necklace, and then removed her glistening matching earrings, and placed them all delicately upon the pile. Momma said to be careful with them, their Grand mama’s, she bleated sweetly, and Angie felt her heart skip several beats, suppressing an evil grin upon hearing those delicious words. Claire then helped Abby remove the pearled brooch from her satin sash.
Angie stood back, her heart had been pounding with cutting swords of mixed delicious pleasure and anticipation as, there on that sunlit church playground, the girls in swishy gowns, removed their valuables for “safe” keeping. She knew she now had to work fast, for there was an ever growing chance that an adult would show up from the reception and ruin Angie’s fun.
Angie than folded up the silk handkerchief, and in a classic bit of misdirection that would have made Gaston Monescu proud, appeared to place it inside the purse she was going to leave in the children’s safe keeping. But she actually palmed it, and slipped the bundle deep into her skirts pocket as she handed the purse over with her free hand. All three sets of eyes watching the purse, not what Angie’s other hand was doing.
Now go and have fun, Angie encouraged the girls as she handed the purse to Amanda. The youngsters seemed thrilled that they had an adult’s permission to keep on playing, and knowing that they would not be in danger of now being yelled at for possibly losing some of their pretty jewelry, they scurried off happily, in waves of whispery satin. Amanda stopped and gave Angie a hug before following the two sisters and their friend. The kind of hug that would have sealed the fate of any jewelry she may have still been wearing, and for which Angie did a double check for. Angie then watched Amanda run off, long gown fluttering out from behind her.
As the four girls rejoined the two boys, Angie slowly slinked away, melting into the woods. She allowed herself to smirk over how rewardingly gullible rich young girl’s in silky dresses ,wearing ripe for the plucking jewelry ,always proved to be.
Folle est l’agneau de la prune qui dans le loup avoue! She whispered to herself as she disappeared from the frolicking children’s sight.
She stopped suddenly as she reached a small clearing with the path leading to the rose covered arbor crossed. Not believing her eyes, as she unexpectedly saw below her fresh, opulently attired, prey.
A young couple was busily snogging in the garden the garden just ahead of Angie. As she looked over the pair of richly dressed pretty young things, she could not help but wonder if this couple had been in charge of watching over the children and had snuck away to be by themselves. She quickly ducked behind some bushes as the girl broke away, and with a come hither look, led her boyfriend through a rose covered arbor. Not a moment too soon, for the couple looked behind them, before crossing over the path and disappearing into the woods.
Angie cautiously snuck forward, and reaching the spot where they had disappeared into the woods, hears the girl giggling along with the unmistakable sounds of kissing. As the couple is otherwise occupied, Angie carefully moves into the woods. She spies the lad’s suit lying over some branches, and sees the shrubs moving underneath as the couple obviously have progressed now beyond kissing.
Angie spies something bright and shiny laying on the ground just in front of the shrub. She inches forward. It is the girls gown, laying spread out like a slick wet fluid purple pond , and there, in a nice neat pile, is the diamond jewelry she was wearing. Angie wonders what would have happened if some miscreant, or unscrupulous hobo were to stumble upon this scene. In her mind she reasoned that they would probably steal the jewels. So, why shouldn’t ole Angie be the one to acquire this one’s jewels also? Since she would probably be losing them anyway!
Angie reaches down and quietly pulls away the fluidly glossy gown, the silky material whispering along the grass as it moves. Angie keeps one ear on the couple just out of sight, the other listens for any noise on the path behind her that may betray her as she melts away back into the woods. Then, when she is a safe distance away, happily scoops up the girls small fiery diamonds. Picking up the gown she carried it back, hanging it from a limb just before leaving the path, she ran a hand along its enticing length, before leaving, snickering to herself the whole way.
Coup-Fourré, Angie thinks too herself as she regains the path, after carefully making sure no one else was about. Off in the distance she can just barely hear the children still at play. The purse where they innocently believed held their jewelry safe, she imagines still sitting on the bench. She thinks for a second about going back and lifting that purse, but decides not to push her luck, now that she had finally found some.
She once again pictured the beaming faces of the three young girls as they were being complimented on their shiny dresses by the pretty lady with the nice smile and gentle fingers as she carefully looked them over for anything missed that those nasty boys may try to take. Naively unaware that they had, in reality, been robbed of the precious gems that they had been convinced to remove for “safe keeping.”
Angie, for the first time, but not the last, imagined in her mind, what the children’s wide eyed astonishment would be like, they opened that sleek little purse , only to find the handkerchief had vanished! . And what the couple snogging about in the woods would make of the missing gown and jewels.
Editors notes:
Even though Angie related this story as having occurred on the same afternoon ,the chronicler felt she was keeping something back. It was never discover what, if anything had been. The answer may lie in the events unfolded above. It may be worth re-reading the story to see if anyone can pick up on it.
Folle est l’agneau de la prune qui dans le loup avoue!
Silly is the plump lamb to whom in the wolf confesses
Our Thanks to Mr Gardner for pointing out the existence of Mr. Monescu’s 1826 guide
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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
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These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
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Strutting the City in Berry Hues
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The Look:
Description Section:
Radiating celestial elegance, this aqua satin draped dress is the perfect fusion of glamour and sophistication. The soft, fluid draping of the dress flows seamlessly with the body, creating a timeless silhouette. Paired with matching opera gloves, a structured mini bag, and metallic heels, this look feels like it’s straight out of a futuristic fairytale. The silver statement jewelry further elevates the ensemble, while the soft waves in the hair provide a romantic touch, tying everything together into one striking vision of modern elegance.
Whether it’s for an upscale event, a formal evening out, or even a photoshoot, this aqua look is guaranteed to leave an unforgettable impression. It’s all about effortless luxury, blending vintage-inspired details like satin and gloves with futuristic accessories, creating a truly unique and captivating style.
Behind the Look:
The inspiration behind this look comes from the idea of merging aquatic and celestial elements, creating an ethereal, otherworldly vibe. Aqua is often associated with tranquility and calm which i my reasoning in picking this colour, but here it’s paired with bold metallic accents, giving the outfit a powerful yet graceful feel. The draped satin design was crafted by Offline, known for their ability to blend classic elegance with modern silhouettes. This set is available in Gen-X (classic & curvy), Khara, Kupra, Lara-X, Legacy, Maitreya and Reborn.
The metallic heels from November, features an artistic sculpted design, and an unexpected and futuristic twist. These sexy heels are only available in Kupra, Peach and Reborn.
The structured mini bag brings a pop of texture to the soft, flowing dress, while the silver jewelry creates a cohesive, polished finish. This look was designed for someone who isn’t afraid to command attention and exude confidence through bold choices.
Styling Tip:
To fully embrace the ethereal and futuristic vibe of this look, keep accessories minimal but striking. Opt for metallic or jewel-toned accents to complement the aqua color. If you want to add more drama, swap the soft waves for a sleek, high ponytail, and go for bold, silver eyeliner or metallic shadow to enhance the otherworldly theme. Keep shoes metallic or white to maintain the clean, polished aesthetic.
Although in the main the Victorian era was though of as a scientific time and one of great reasoning - however parallel to this was believed in phrenology and fairies, in ghosts and galvanism, in photographs and séances..
enter the story of;
Spring heeled jack
Sightings of Spring-Heeled Jack are recorded across England, from London and Chichester up to Liverpool, but they were especially prevalent in the Black Country, where they peeked in the 1880s.
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ability to jump; to leap over rooftops and across hedges. Such agility always allowed him to terrify his victims and to escape his pursuers.
Birmingham Post reported in September 1886:
“First a young girl, then a man, felt a hand on their shoulder, and turned to see the infernal one with glowing face, bidding them a good evening.”
~
various stories of women being attacked and a creature like figure in white oilskins with goatee and red eyes with sharp ears....
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AI Manipulated
British myths&legends
For some reason my sister and I were thinking back to how we grew up pronouncing tulips as 'chew-lips' (same as we did 'chew-na' for tuna) compared to North Americans who say tulips, pronouncing it "two-lips".
"Or 'Threelips' as River calls them," she said.
"Threelips?" I asked. (River is my 10-year-old nephew and he has autism, so there's often an interesting explanation.)
"Well, he remembered their name resembles a number but he got three instead of two"
It's a pretty cute reasoning and yet intriguing at the same time, especially when you see how his mind made an interesting association and yet got slightly misdirected and picked the word to the right instead.
Recently, NASA released a photograph that previously had been unseen by the general public and indeed, by very few 'insiders' as well. Apollo 12 was the second spaceflight in the program to land humans on the Moon. During EVA II, on November 20th, 1969, Alan L. Bean caught a glint of something on the surface and veered momentarily from the mission's planned protocol (Archival sound footage reveals a "gasp-type" sound at 04:37:54 UTC). He immediately whipped out his Swinger and snapped a quick shot! It was later revealed that he had planned on taking a family snap of himself and Pete near Surveyor III with his Hasselblad and although this failed in the end, his "back-up" camera recorded something far more significant!
Although the reasoning behind NASA's publication of this photograph now is unknown, the press release did contain one tiny, little iota of information that was of interest: "As far as we know, no bottles of soft drinks of any kind were taken to the moon's surface during Apollo 11."
I have never been a ‘joiner’.
I refused categorically to join the Brownies, It was not open for discussion. I did not want to wear brown and sit in a dank wooden hut being bossed around.
In her attempts to socialise me my mother somehow got me to join a swimming club AND a ballet class in one of my weak moments. I was not happy. Dreading the afternoons where instead of going home and eating biscuits in front of cartoons I would be dragged off to yet more damp halls and have to change into more outfits.
I arrived at my first session of ballet expecting to be presented with a beautiful pearl encrusted bodice and tutu with shimmering satin point shoes. This was my biggest incentive to join. Instead I was given a pale blue, lycra-free leotard and disappointing looking, pitta bread shoes with elastic across the front. We sat in circles doing the ‘good toes naughty toes exercise’ for what felt like six months.
There was one solitary boy in our class. The poor bugger. I remember him looking like a Romanian orphan all little and frail with a number one cut and a black leotard. Nowadays I would much rather hang out with the boys than the girls but in those days girls were safe and didn’t have clammy hands. Being new and having no allies I was the one who had to dance with the boy. I think I spent the entire length of the hall that we had to prance down pulling away from him as hard as I could with thundering, angry stomps.
At the end of the lesson I pointed out to my mother that I was hugely unsatisfied; No fancy costume fit for the Nutcracker (regardless of whether I could actually even do ‘good toes’ yet), no fancy shoes. At the end of one long hour, I was not able to get my leg up as high as my head; I was not clonking around on point doing pliés, développés, grand fouetté en tournant, dégagés, grand rond de jambe, rond de jambe en l'air, coupés, battements tendus, attitudes, arabesques, and all types of pirouettes. Being subjected to the humiliation ‘clammy hands’ as my partner took the absolute biscuit (which he smelt of).
I informed my mother that I would be resigning herewith reasoning that I now wanted to concentrate my efforts on swimming.
Two weeks later I informed my mother that I would be resigning herewith from swimming because I wanted to concentrate on being alone and avoiding ‘joining in.’
It continued throughout primary school. I waged a war against ‘country dancing’. I trained a renegade band of girls not to join. We would continue to play ‘off ground touch’ and stealing the boy’s footballs and then kicking them in the shins in preference.
Little by little my gang shrunk. Each week another member slunk off to wear the apricot skirt of the ‘dancers’ until one day it was me, sat alone in the playground, not dancing and not kicking boys.
So I joined.
I hated to admit it, I loved it.
Naturally I had to bring a little of rebellion to it though and when we went ‘on tour’ to the school down the road I managed to start a country dancing riot against the girls who wore lilac skirts.
Why do some kids resist ‘joining in’ with such fervour whilst others happily accept every new membership to club and lesson?
I am still exactly as I was at 6 years old. I joined a running club last year and quit after a few months because I couldn’t see the point of waiting around all day to go running with a bunch of strangers making small talk when I could go running on my own whenever I felt like it, in silence and think hateful, angry thoughts to help me get up the tough hills and stop to stroke horses in fields and flirtatious cats if I so desired.
I cannot bear having some ‘thing’ looming at the end of my day that I must do, even if in theory I quite like what I will be doing. It ruins all the idle hours before, taints them with a countdown to the ‘activity’ and gives me time to build up dread.
So I want to know chaps, who is a joiner and who is an avoider?
I don't know who took this picture, but she or he used my camera, and thus, by (twisted) parity of reasoning I claim this to be a selfie. Oh never mind. That day we were in Havana.
News flash: For those who might be interested, the furnace has been fixed, everything thawed out (pipes, hot water tank/heater, water pump and tank) the toilet replaced (cracked tank), 2 popped pipe joints re-soldered. Except for fixing the furnace, which I had a professional come in and do, I did the rest myself, and was especially pleased that my soldering tested good on the first pass! I hate having to do things twice, and I often seem to have to. The most tedious part of the process was waiting to be sure the water pump was completely thawed before I turned on the power to it -- three days with a portable heater blowing hot air on it.
Snowdons are one of a number of operators to supply coaches to Megabus on a self-drive basis whereby Megabus provide the drivers. I am not quite sure of the reasoning behind this arrangement. On 4th March 2023, former Logans Volvo B13R(T) Plaxton Elite YN 13 GXP was in Reading,
..."Funny how I find myself
in love with you
If I could buy my reasoning
I would pay to lose
one half won't do...
I've asked myself how much do you
commit yourself?
It's my life
don't you forget
It's my life
it never ends"...
It's My Life
-Mark Hollis/Tim Friese-Greene
(Talk Talk)
As memorizing as my first trip to Western Montana was, one thing that really stood out to me about this trip was this shot. The reasoning for this is not because the weather was the most cooperative, or the power on the train was noteworthy, but rather the location of where it was shot was.
When I was growing up, my parents always took my brother and I out to the Black Hills every year for vacation. Trips to the 1880 Train in Hill City South Dakota were inevitable as a result. Every year I bought a railroad calendar with some of the money my parents gave me for the trip. One particular calendar (I believe it was 2003 or 2004) had a picture of a pair of warbonnet dash nines and a BNSF H2 dash nine leading and intermodal train past these very same snow covered peaks at this very same location in Summit Montana. To this day, this photo is in my top 10 favorite railroad photos taken by anyone ever. I later found out this photo was taken by none other than Mr. Mike Danneman.
I stumbled upon this location in Summit Montana by accident while I was on my trip. It wasn't until after I shot this photo that I realized that I was standing nearly in the same spot as Mike Did 14 years earlier to take his photo. To me, that connection alone made my Montana Trip worth it.
“When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you
don't blame the lettuce. You look for reasons it is not
doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or
less sun. You never blame the lettuce. Yet if we have
problems with our friends or family, we blame the other
person. But if we know how to take care of them, they will
grow well, like the lettuce. Blaming has no positive
effect at all, nor does trying to persuade using reason
and argument. That is my experience. No blame, no
reasoning, no argument, just understanding. If you
understand, and you show that you understand, you can
love, and the situation will change”
― Thích Nhất Hạnh
Cover photo for my post that was recently published on the Digital Orientalist: digitalorientalist.com/2023/05/09/can-i-automate-the-bori...
»[...] In our project, we want to gain some insights into discussions taking place on the Beijing-based Q&A internet platform Zhihu 知乎. In particular, we’re interested in questions and answers related to the global semiconductor shortage, and the answerers’ argumentation. To somewhat quantify what is going on, we identified several typical ways of reasoning in the answers: historical, technological, nationalistic, China-critical, geopolitical and off-topic. [...]«
Each screw-top jar represents one of the labels.