Showing posts with label meet. Show all posts

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Meet Mrs VerMeer!

3B is so lucky to have Mrs. VerMeer join us for an hour of literacy a day to do some coteaching. Many times, Mrs. VerMeer and I will teach a mini lessons together and then work with individual students or small groups. It is nice to have another adult in the room as well as limiting the time some students are pulled out of the room.

So if you hear a 3B child talking about Mrs. VerMeer, you now know who she is. Welcome Mrs. VerMeer!

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Meet Your New Go To Beauty Look For Winter

Photo via: Byrdie

Every winter, we come across a new beauty look that becomes our go-to for the rest of the season. This year, we are loving this warm, romantic look. It not only looks beautiful, but it is also super easy to pull off. To start, youll need a good brow pencil to fill in your brows for a polished feel. For your eyes. try a neutral peach eyeshadow for a subtle swipe of color over the lids and then a swipe or two of mascara. To finish off the look, apply a rosy blush on the apples of your cheeks and complete with a semi-matte burgundy lipstick.

Get the look:

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MEET THE ORPHANS 2 DOWNLOAD

Name:Meet The Orphans 2File size:16 MBDate added:August 7, 2013Price:FreeOperating system:Windows XP/Vista/7/8Total downloads:1562Downloads last week:27Product ranking:★★★★★ Meet The Orphans 2 is a program for automatic download of pictures and Meet The Orphans 2 from ftp servers. Outstanding features: Automatic download of Meet The Orphans 2 you dont have. Duplicates are avoided, even if renamed. Meet The Orphans 2 are resumed, even if renamed. The programs interface contains a lot of unfamiliar-looking buttons. We were hoping that with a little bit of practice it would all Meet The Orphans 2 to make sense to us, but that didnt turn out to be the case. Even the programs Meet The Orphans 2 Guide was hard to understand (in part, we think, because of its obnoxious, 1990s Web site-style wallpaper, which made the text hard to read). We read and fiddled, read and fiddled, and finally started making our first outline. The entire process was unintuitive, and when we realized that the drag-and-drop option for rearranging topics only sort-of worked, we gave up. In fact, this program offers so many options for telling time, users may never get a chance to try them all. Its interface is quite Meet The Orphans 2: a default Meet The Orphans 2 instantly opens for users, but if it does not meet your needs, simply right Meet The Orphans 2 and a menu appears. Here you can choose a Meet The Orphans 2 styles, window states, window positions, time zones, Meet The Orphans 2, and more. There are over 30 different styles of Meet The Orphans 2 to choose from and any number of them can be displayed together. Users can even set each to a different time zone to meet their needs. If you get a FC, uninstall and reinstall**HideNSeek allows you to Meet The Orphans 2 media Meet The Orphans 2 (pics, audio, video) from the Pictures, Music and Video Player. It is DISGUISED as a Meet The Orphans 2 app (white screen). Run the Meet The Orphans 2 app and press the Menu 3 times to log in. After you create a Meet The Orphans 2, press Menu for instructions.Content rating: Not rated. Record your ideas in real time, mix synth layers with samples, compose and arrange your tune using the powerful sequencer and bring the mix Meet The Orphans 2 with effects such as reverb, compression and EQ. Share your tune on Meet The Orphans 2 from wherever you are or use the comprehensive audio mixdown options and MIDI export feature to get your ideas over to your Meet The Orphans 2 DAW when you get back home.

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Meet my baby girl Honoka!

I am officially the worst blogger ever!! What kind of a blogger takes a whole month to announce a safe arrival of a baby?? I am so sorry for this terribly late post, but I wanted to let you all know that my baby girl was born on July 13th. The delivery wasnt very easy and speedy. I was hospitalized on July 11th with a plan to deliver the baby next day with induction. The induction started in the morning next day, but it wasnt until 10 am the day after that I got to greet my baby finally. (The 29 hours of induction didnt dilate my cervix enough, plus it had been 24 hours since my water broke, so I ended up having C section.) The contractions seemed never ending and I was completely exhausted, but the moment I saw my healthy plump baby girl taken out of my belly, alive, moving, crying, I couldnt possibly think of any happier day of my life. Instantly, everything I experienced - uncomfortable pregnancy, painful contractions - seemed absolutely worth it, and I cried out loud in joy of finally meeting my cute baby girl :)

This is the very first picture of my baby, Honoka Kimberly Mills, taken about 15 minutes after she arrived. She was being held by mom and Joe took the picture. This picture brings back to me the memory of the day, so it has been my favorite picture of her although it is a bit blurry :) She weighed 3986 gram (8lb 12oz) and measured 55 cm (21.6 inch) at birth. She was SO much larger than the average newborn baby here; in fact, she was the largest baby in the entire hospital! We left the hospital on July 22nd and have been happily staying with my parents.

aaa3

The baby and I are finally going back to our apartment in Tokyo this weekend if she clears everything at her one month check up tomorrow. I am very happy that we can finally stay close to Joe throughout the week soon, but I am a bit worried about my family here, who I know for sure, will miss the baby tremendously.

I will be back to blog about lots of lovely handmade gifts my lucky girl has received so far, including this quilt she is laying on, which is made by an uber talented and super sweet Elnora!!

Hope you are having a great week so far!

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Meet Glinda Darlin

Today I got a new bike. I reserved it a few weeks ago, making the kind of decision I like to make ("That ones nice. And its on sale? Ill take it. No, I dont need to see the others.") and finally today managed to actually go and collect it. Complete with basket, helmet, lights, wheels, brakes and those other things youre meant to have. Pedals, thats it.

Shes light blue, and more elegant than I could ever hope to be. I have decided to call her Glinda, after the Good Witch of the North. If she was a human she would have blonde ringlets and shy away from swearing. She would wear pastels and gilets and never have missed work because she was hungover on a Wednesday. Her notebook would be covered with line drawings of kittens and she would say "golly" a lot. In spite of all of this, I like Glinda, and suspect that she will be a good influence.

Ben and I cycled to B&Q today. My first outing on Glinda. She went calmly and without a fuss, as if B&Q is her natural home. It isnt of course, now that I have decided she is female. Im not saying women cant cope with B&Q, I just mean that I feel like the workers there, all men, clustered around bits of wood talking about padlocks, looked at me a bit askance as I trailed in behind Ben. I crept past the planers, singing their siren song to a few unfortunate men who stood lost in woodwork dreams. I was dwarfed in the roofing aisle, where glorious clouds of loft insulation billowed to infinity. We discussed shelving and stuff that makes damp rooms less damp, then Ben piled our spoils into his trailer and we set off home again.

Back home and Ben clomped about in our diminutive yard, affixing all three bikes to some heavy weights and chains, while I made some tea. (Finally, back from B&Q, in the kitchen messing about with jam, where I belong. What a relief! Please note: I am embroidering this blog post.)

Where we live you have to weigh things down to prevent them being nicked. (That is why I have been eating more crisps recently.) When my family was up this weekend, my Dad wandered into our kitchen, gazed out over the redbrick terraces, and began quietly to whistle the Coronation Street theme tune. I do not want Glinda to get stolen. Other people might not know shes a Good Witch, and just think of her as some kind of mode of transport. The horror! Luckily she is sleeping restfully underneath some lovely blue tarpaulin with two bodyguards. I might sneak out in the middle of the night with some faux fur and a sleeping mask.

I have been meaning, recently, to write about a word I hate. Darlin.

It isnt principle. Its experience. It reminds me of being addressed by patronizing, put-you-in-your-place men. Its the lexical equivalent of a wink and a gentle bum squeeze. Thanks, darlin. Youre a love, youre a star, oh, thats lovely, darlin. Just take your top off and make us a brew, be a love. Cheers, darlin.

Not all men are Like That, very few, in fact. Im not being sexist, most men I know wouldnt, you know. Youre looking fresh youre looking so good, oh I could just. Have you washed your hair, its looking nice. Youre looking. Nice. How could I not believe blue eyes like that? Stand still, lets have a look.

(Laughter) Dont, youre scaring her!

(Im not scared, Im being sick in my mouth.)

Stand still. While I mentally undress and airbrush.

Ill have some salt and vinegar crisps, please, darlin. Those ones, on the bottom shelf. Not really, just wanted to see how you bend over! Salright, darlin, Im only kidding. Just a joke! Dont look so. Shes scared, youve scared her!

Slavering eyes and indulgent chuckles.

Sorry, darlin. Thanks, love.

It isnt principle. Its association. Most men arent Like That but those who are stick in my mind and my ears with their comments and their obsequious false respect.

I know why I hate that word. How can I sum all this up? Does that make sense?

Tomorrow I will take Glinda for a spin, after I have been to Birmingham and back (on the train. I am not over-estimating my cycling prowess quite that much). I am hoping that, as a good witch, she will be able to plow over any sleaze who calls me darlin.

Mmm, nice (pannier) rack.

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Meet Tori Winters from Billionaires APPRENTICE

NOTE!!!!: We released the book a day early for fans of the blog, priced at just .99 for 24 hours only! You can get it here, but dont wait. It goes back up tomorrow!

On Monday, January 20th, Im beginning a completely new era in my publishing career. Billionaires Apprentice is a romantic thriller written by Chase Carroway, and it is going to knock you off your seat. When I was first approached with the idea of working on a romance, I was terrified. I know nothing about the genre except that it has millions of devoted readers, and that, ladies and gents, is ambrosia to any writer. I decided that if we were going to do a romance, it couldnt be the syrupy, flowery kind. It had to be something with a little kick. It had to be something a woman could hand to her husband and say, "Read this. You will love it!"
Id like to introduce you to Tori Winters, the female lead of the story. When we first meet her, shes a struggling young woman just trying to make ends meet. Her search for a job will lead to an adventure filled with romance, adventure, and unbelievable things so wondrous, companies will be racing to invent them.
There is a world of possibilities out there. This is what discovering them looks like...

From Billionaires Apprentice (January 20th)
THE APPLICANT

The gate to the Atticus Estate was hidden from the road, so that any cars driving past saw nothing but decorative concrete walls that stretched endlessly in either direction. The walls were thick, and tall, and textured beneath a layer of thick vines and moss. It gave them the appearance of the kingdom of some medieval lord. Which, in many ways, is exactly what it was.

The gate was set nearly twenty feet back from the driveways entrance and my cars bald tires squeaked on the red cobblestones. I stepped on the brakes, and they squeaked as well, but even more loudly. The gate itself was a majestic thing, constructed from brushed aluminum that gave it a shimmering green hue in the afternoon sunlight, blending it in with the leaves and vines. The gate looked as if it were something made long ago by careful artisans that had grown up in a family that spent generations perfecting the ability to bend iron into art. It was the kind of thing you didnt see anymore. In a world of Home Depot and Lowes, everything had become pre-fabricated and mass-produced, giving the entire world a shallow sort of sameness.

I knew that my levels of poverty had reached critical conditions if I was fawning over the kind of wealth that could afford such a gate. Or even the artisan who was paid to make it. Hell, right then I would have settled for the paycheck of the person who worked the damn thing.

Behind the first wall was a second one, built ten feet back. The space between the walls left a ten foot trench, forming a path of low-cut grass. How odd, I thought, to have a trench along the perimeter of the estate, until I saw a sign mounted above it that read: Caution Non-Lethal Landmines Present. Do Not Enter. There were other signs mounted along the interior wall that showed stick-figures stepping on one of the landmines and being zapped with electricity. You know, just in case the person trying to break in needed a visual aid of what would happen.

I pressed the button at the callbox in front of the gate, wincing at every one of my cars horrible rattles and sputtering, choking sounds the engine insisted on making. I became convinced it was going to stall out right at the entrance. Wouldnt that be just perfect? What an excellent impression to make at a job interview. Hi, nice to meet you. Can you call me a tow truck?

Theyd probably decide I wasnt responsible enough to work in their big fancy house if I wasnt responsible enough to maintain a car. Well, Mr. Big Shot Rich Person, its not like Id be asking for a job scrubbing floors and toilets in your Big Fancy House if I could already afford a nice car, now would I?

Just turn the car around now, Tori.

For a second, I almost did. But the callbox chirped in my ear before I could turn the wheel, saying, "Hello? Can I help you?"

I took a deep, calming, breath and tried to find my center. Hey, never let it be said a semester taking yoga as an elective went completely to waste. "Hi, Tori Winters," I said. "I have an appointment with the head of staff at two oclock."

There was silence on the other end of the line as the person typed something rapidly into a computer. I heard a ding, and they said, "Give us a moment to check the list, Miss Winters. All right, here you are. I will now open the gate, but please be sure you do not stop your car en route to the house or get out of it for any reason."

The car rattled and shuddered in response. The gate started to open and I pressed the button on the callbox nervously, "Hello? Quick question, what if I have car trouble on the way up? Its not running exactly right at the moment." There was no response and I added, "Im not sure why. Its never given me any trouble before. I always keep it in perfect condition." I pictured the security officer watching the gates camera calling everyone else in to look at the moron driving the piece of junk up the driveway.

The callbox chimed again, "Thats all right, well know if you stop, Miss Winters. If anything happens, please remain inside your vehicle until help arrives."

The gate clanged loudly as it retracted into the walls, and I delicately eased the gas pedal down, patting the cars dashboard encouragingly. "Come on, honey. You can do it. Mama doesnt wanna get blown up by an electric landmine today."

The driveway was a long, winding, upward slope that wound around a series of gardens and ponds filled with cherubic statues that urinated sparkling water in tall arcs. Burnished wooden bridges traversed the ponds, and some were so close to the driveway I could see the large golden and red fish swimming inside.

My car groaned going up a stretch of steep incline, squeaking painfully as I navigated a pass that looked out over a series of tennis courts and horse stables on one side and apple orchards and fields of Japanese cherry blossom trees to the other. The trees rained petals of white and pink onto a series of walkways and benches that wound in and out of sight, but eventually connected them to the ponds below.

Something flickered in the air to my left and I turned sharply to see a bright flash in my face. I heard a soft whump-whump-whump and realized there was a strange looking metallic bird flying in the air next to my car, taking pictures of me.

I stopped the car in amazement and looked at it, and it flashed again. It wasnt a bird at all. It was some sort of mechanical device that looked like three Frisbees molded together with a large antenna at its center. A camera was mounted to the bottom of the device and each Frisbee section had rotating turrets making the whump-whump-whumpsound that kept it in the air. It was a drone, I realized. Some kind of security drone the government used to spy on people and now it was hovering around my car, taking pictures of it and my license plate and me.

I remembered the callboxes instructions not to stop for any reason and I pressed down on the gas again, forcing the team of squirrels and hamsters that were surely holding my engine together at that point, to keep going.

By the time I made it to the top of the hill and could see the front of the Estate, the drone had flown off. The driveway was made of paved stones and every parking space was taken up by some sort of fantasy vehicle you saw on MTV Cribs, but never in real life. There was a menacing-looking red Ferrari; a vintage Aston-Martin from the early James Bond movies; an all-black, muscular Bentley, with obsidian windows and sparkling black chrome wheels and grill; and finally, a custom motorcycle with the initials D and A embossed on the gas tank.

I pulled into the only empty parking space and shut the engine off. The car continued to click and whine even after I pulled the key out and there were small puffs of smoke sneaking past the sides of hood, but it didnt matter. I had made it to the interview, and even if the car broke down on the way home, hell, even if the damn thing blew up, that was all right.

If I got the job, it would be worth it.

I opened my car door very slowly, holding it tight to avoid any chance of bumping the motorcycle. That things paint job was probably worth more money than I already owed for three years of college.

The front entrance to the Estate was a tall, columned affair that reminded me of the White House. There seemed to be multiple other structures connected to that first building by walls and archways, but it was impossible to tell how big the house was.

I walked up a flight of marble stairs to the entrance. It was a thick set of wooden doors framed by stained glass, and there were two golden lions head doorknockers on either side. I grabbed the ring dangling from the first lions mouth to knock, but when I moved it, there was a soft bell chime inside.

Both doors opened for me, revealing a thin, older gentleman wearing an old-fashioned butlers uniform. He smiled warmly at me and bowed, actually bowed, before saying, "Good afternoon, Miss Winters."

I stared at him with a dopey smile for a moment, unable to speak.

"Are you all right, my dear?" he said.

"Yes," I said, trying to recover. "Im sorry. This is all just so much to take in. Ive just never seen an actual butler before. I feel like I should take my picture with you and send it to people I know just to prove it really happened."

He closed his eyes and nodded, as if he were used to people saying that all the time. "Do come in," he said. "My name is Connor, welcome to our humble residence."

His eyes glanced past my shoulder at where my car was parked. Ill give him credit, he tried his best not to flinch. He looked back at me and said, "We will have to move your car, Im afraid. If you leave me your keys, I will send for someone who knows where to park it."

I could see him mentally calculating how steeply the property value of the estate was dropping every second my hunk of junk was parked in front of the house, and I apologized as I handed him the keys.

The floors of the homes foyer were exquisite Italian marble. Large, framed oil paintings lined the walls, but they were different than anything I expected. Instead of stuffy old museum pieces, these were done by fresh and exciting artists of the new school.

I stopped at the first one to my left and gasped. Brightly colored and enormous, it was a mans skull with fences scrawled across the forehead and a patchwork of blues and oranges covering his face. "Thats a Basquiat," I whispered. "Is it an original?"

"Mmm, yes," Connor shrugged. "Not quite my favorite, but Jean-Michel gave it personally to Mr. Atticus and he has always been quite fond of it. Of course, I much prefer it to this," he said, looking disdainfully at the large painting hanging over the staircase.

It was a red portrait of Queen Victoria with her skirt hiked up and a pair of thigh-high stockings beneath as she sat on the face of another woman.

"I have positively begged him to take that down, but he will hear nothing of it," Connor sighed. "Of course, it is better than the one his father insisted on hanging there."

My eyes widened as I looked the painting over and said, "Wait, Ive seen that before. Its a Banksy. You have an actual Banksy? This is amazing, Connor! This artwork is worth a fortune."

"It is?" he said dryly. "Oh, dear. That means it wont go with the rustic, homespun décor weve been trying so hard to achieve since Mr. Atticus redecorated. I suppose Ill have to break the bad news to him now."

He winked at me and I felt my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. Connors voice was gentle as he said, "It becomes much less impressive when one must stare at it every day, I assure you."

There was an elevator at the far end of the hall and staircases on either side that travelled up two floors. Long hallways extended from either side of the hall, leading farther than I could see. "Im sorry," I said. "I know I sound like an idiot. Ive just never seen anything like this."

He nodded patiently and said, "All it takes is vast amounts of money, my dear. Thats all."

I grunted as I looked around, "I can only imagine what it takes to keep this place running."

"Well, in this wing alone we have a kitchen staff, a full-time mechanic, a facilities department, myself, a hairdresser, the group of housekeepers you are applying to, and their head of staff."

I removed a folded piece of paper from my pocket and showed it to him, "Is Miss Chen Tanaka the head of staff?"

"Just Chen," Connor said politely. "Or Miss Chen, if you simply must call her anything. Dorian prefers to keep things as informal as possible." He cocked his head to glance up at the staircase and said, "And if Im not mistaken, here Chen comes now."

The first thing I saw were the unmistakable red soles of a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes descending from the top of the marble staircase. Miss Chens long legs were shapely and toned. Her calf muscles flexed as she walked. This woman had spent no little amount of time on an elliptical trainer. Her business suit was custom fit to her narrow waist and her long, black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She stopped on the second floors landing and looked down at me. Her almond-shaped eyes were drawn to fine, cat-like points as she looked down at me and said, "Tori Winters?"

"Yes, maam," I said.

Her exquisitely angled features revealed no trace of either pleasure or displeasure with my answer. She simply turned around and said, "This way, please."

Connor smiled at me and gave me a quick thumbs-up. I mouthed a quick thanks and hurried after Miss Chen, trying to catch up to her. "Thank you for seeing me," I said.

She kept walking and did not reply.

"I really love your shoes."

Miss Chen stopped for me on the landing and turned to give me a brief once over. Her eyes fell on my shoes, assessing whether or not they were worthy of a returned compliment. Apparently, my twenty dollar value find at Payless didnt fit her standards.

She led me down the hall and through a door to a more routine stairwell and we started up toward the third floor. "I always take the stairs," she said, looking back at me, as if she could tell Id been looking at her calf muscles.

"Do you have a lot of other options in this place?" I thought to myself.

We emerged in another hallway and she took me around the corner. There were so many doors my head was spinning. It was like walking through an endless series of cavernous hallways in a museum. Finally, we came to an office door and she let me in.

The interior was weirdly futuristic and digital with high density plastic furniture that was curved into uncomfortable-looking ergonomic designs. The kind with S-shaped seats that had no arms or backs. Lights blinked from multiple wireless devices and the walls were lined with digital picture frames that cycled images every thirty seconds. As I tried to figure out how to sit down on one of the chairs across from her desk I noticed that all of the digital frames were showing the same cycle of pictures and that none of them appeared to have anything to do with Miss Chen. They were all showing the display images you saw in the store.

"So, tell me about your schoolwork," Chen said. "What do you do there?"

It was go-time. I took a breath and said, "I have one year left on my Business Administration degree and Im trying to finish it out. Aside from that, I was on the equestrian team. Uh…I took yoga last year."

Chen placated me with a smile and said, "How are your grades?"

"Excellent. Well, they were, until last semester when I had to get a full-time job to try and cover tuition. Now, I just need to work and save and try to get back to finish because I already feel like Im forgetting everything. Also, if Im not enrolled by next semester, I have to start paying back the student loan."

Miss Chen nodded silently. Her expression did not reveal any hint of compassion. It was evident shed never had money problems. Probably came from well-off parents who paid her way through school and now shes got a job with an office that looks like a science fiction movie and shoes expensive enough to pay my rent for two months.

But Ill just keep on playing the game, sitting here answering inane questions about how my unfinished business degree qualifies me to scrub toilets in your mansion, okay, Miss Chen?

"What are your qualifications for this position?"

I looked at her. I wanted to tell her I was pretty sure cleaning bathrooms didnt require many qualifications, which is why people paroled from prison were often hired to do it, but I just kept right on playing along. My smile was so fixed, I felt like it was cracking my cheeks. "Well, my father owned a cleaning service when I was growing up. I helped him when I wasnt in school. We stripped floors, cleaned bathrooms, did windows, you name it. I can even do painting and trim work if you need me to."

"How quaint," she said.

"Not everyone gets everything paid for in life," I said.

If I could have grabbed the words out of the air and stuffed them back in my mouth I would have. It was like my words were out there, floating around, and she was just looking at me, trying to figure out the most professional way to tell me to get the hell out of her office.

I poured a big dose of honey into my voice and said, "I meant to say that I grew up around people who had a lot more money than I did, so Im used to being around those who need help. Because theyre so busy, I mean."

Chen didnt look like she was buying it, but she said, "Mr. Atticus is not busy. He is wealthy. Ridiculously wealthy. If anything, he has too much time on his hands."

"Wealthy with leisure time," I said softly. "Sounds like a good problem to have."

"Indeed," she replied. She folded her hands on the desk and said, "Thank you for coming in, Miss Winters. Well be in touch if there is anything further. Please see yourself out."

I nodded dumbly and felt the breath go out of my chest like a car tire hitting a nail. That was it. Id blown it. Me and my big mouth.

I went to get out of Chens stupid chair and leave when the phone on her desk rang. She cupped her hand over it and said, "Yes, sir?"

There was a pause as she listened, and I saw her eyes glance up at me. For a moment, there was something else there, something that penetrated her carefully maintained air of cold disinterest. "All right," she said. "As you wish."

I watched her put the phone down and when she spoke, it was like having a piece of bread stuck in your throat and no water to wash it down. She folded her hands and said, "Please sit down, Miss Winters. It appears I spoke too soon."

I lowered myself back into the seat but said nothing. If Id just been rescued from the brink of death, I didnt want to do anything to blow it.

It was Chens turn to take a deep breath and collect herself then. "Most of the people who work for Mr. Atticus do not have much in the way of resources, and to be around someone who has so much can lead to resentment," she said.

"Honestly, I would just be grateful to have a job," I said. "Theres no resentment, I promise."

"You say that now, but soon, you would be tempted," Chen said. "People seek to profit from exploiting Mr. Atticus in a countless ways, whether by selling information or photographs to the tabloids or his corporate enemies, or even trying to get close to him in a…personal manner."

"I understand," I said. "Im just here to clean the bathrooms, I got it."

She kept going, "In order to ensure the loyalty of our employees, weve devised a benefits package that will compensate for any temptations you might face, so long as you obey the rules of your contract."

"Benefits?" I said. "I wasnt aware the job came with benefits."

"Its something we do not advertise, Miss Winters. And neither will you, because one of the rules of your contract is that you do not divulge its contents to anyone."

"Okay," I said, nodding slowly. "What kind of benefits?"

"A standard medical and dental package, with no co-pay."

"Seriously? I havent been to a real dentist in years. Ive been using the clinic at school."

"In addition, we offer an education incentive to employees. Mr. Atticus will reimburse your tuition provided that you maintain a 3.5 grade point average. There are bonuses for making the Deans List, cum laude, and summa cum laude, as well."

"Shut up," I said to her. "Youre kidding me, right?"

"Lastly, you will be provided a room on the estate free of charge. It is not mandatory you stay here, although many of the girls do. Even if you do not live here, you will still have a room you can use, and I recommend that you keep at least one change of clothes in the room in the event you ev

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Meet Petitbleu

Hear ye, hear ye, all expectant parents of the world. *cue royal trumpet sound* - I guess Im watching too many Baby George arrival press coverage, ehem, anyways...

Yes, I do think all babies are royals in the eyes of their proud parents, now, dont they. And what pinterest album would you create first do if you know youre expecting? ..Yes, Im guilty as charged as well, it must be the "NURSERY" album, no? We can dream, right? pssh.

Well, at least, if youre more than willing to turn your pinterest nursery album into reality, I have the one that would sure to help you. Meet Petitblue!

This particular crib has a smart storage solution of a drawer underneath with soft closing system.

Here is their intro for you to get to know them better..
"Petitbleu is an Indonesian brand developed by parents Celestine Yoviana and Dan Fulga. An Indonesian/Romanian, husband and wife team who realize the lack in nursery furniture to suit their taste while searching for a crib for their first son.

All Petitbleu products are eco friendly with non-toxic finishes and made from timbers grown on renewable plantations. Each product is made to meet or exceed International safety standards. So there is no need to worry about baby getting “stuck” between the slats.

The cribs offers 3 mattress position for your growing child, and also converts into a junior bed.
Petitbleu also offer very reasonably priced for the cribs that turn into junior beds.

If you are already interested in buying something from them but the color or the size just don’t fit in your nursery, no worries because all of Petitbleu nursery furniture is custom-built exclusively for your bub and they ship to almost anywhere in the world."

If you happened to stop by at Jakarta next November, please do jot in your reminder about the 5th Indonesia’s largest Maternity Baby & Kids expo, happening November 22-24, 2013 at Jakarta Convention Center (JCC). Petitbleu will be participating on booth #74, so if you are thrilled to see their products in real life, this is your opportunity to see them! And just saying hi would probably more than nice, remember, its their first time exhibiting their furniture and wall decor, so dont be shy, just drop them a hello.

Available link for download

Meet Gurmeet – Morden Jugni Mp3 Mp4 Video Download

Morden Jugni ( Full Video )
Artist – Meet Gurmeet
Music – Mannu Ghambir
Lyrics – Sanjee Mour
Label – Speed Records

Download Meet Gurmeet – Morden Jugni Mp3

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Discover how one of our earliest developers, Charity Checkout, integrated with Clover.

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Meet the Carters

I recently had the honor of designing some t-shirts for the lovely Carter family. The Carters are in the process of adopting a little boy from Ghana and are selling the t-shirts in an effort to raise funds for the adoption fees. You can read more about their adoption journey here.

I have a soft spot in my heart for adoption and have really enjoyed getting to know the Carters and following along on their journey.

How adorable is this little guy? He is the big brother to be and recently got together with his buddies to show off their Ghana tees with this fun photo shoot. The tees have been a hit and I am sending off a second shipment to the Carters tomorrow. They will likely go fast so if youd like to support this sweet family and score a stylin tee for your little one, click here.

Be sure to follow the Carters blog for updates on their journey as well as a massive dose of inspiration and creativity (did I mention that Sarah Carter is an amazing artist?).

Photos by Trevor Hoehne Photography

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as Worn by Mack Posted by Hello

This is my baby, Mack. He is 5, going on 40. He is too smart for his britches!

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Meet Jacqueline Davis my Virtual Assistant

Those of you who have been in my online classes over the last several months are likely to be aware that Jacqueline Davis, of Virtually Here, is now helping me out with administration. Jacqui now sets up and helps me manage the blogs, manages all my e-mail lists, updates my web site, helps with social media, makes my travel arrangements, and so much more. AND she has a team of experts in related fields - web design, marketing, graphic design, and so forth - for when I need special projects done. Now I can focus on the things that matter to me: making art, teaching, and having a little time for my home life and chickens (the chickens are not happy with that order of priority!)

Jacqueline Davis, of Virtually Here

So, if you e-mail me with a question you may get an answer from Jacqui. The e-mail still comes to me, and I read everything. If YOU could use a little help with your home-based business, or any business, or even use a personal assistant, I can highly recommend Jacqui. I havent actually met her in person yet (I will soon, though)! But doesnt she look great?

Please comment to say hi to Jacqui, and you can bombard her with fan-e-mail too if you like.

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Saturday, March 25, 2017

Meet Mrs VerMeer!

Friday, March 24, 2017

Meet Your New Go To Beauty Look For Winter

Sunday, March 19, 2017

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Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Meet my baby girl Honoka!

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Meet Glinda Darlin

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

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Monday, March 6, 2017

Meet Petitbleu

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» MP3 (128kbps) (2.75M)

» MP3 (48kbps) (1.03M)

»Music Download

Download Meet Gurmeet – Morden Jugni Mp4

» MP4 (HD) (1280×720) (25.88M)

» MP4 (640×360) (19.31M)

» MP4 (480×260) (12.94M)

» MP4 (320×240) (9.53M)

» 3GP (176×144) (5.81M)

Monday, February 27, 2017

Meet My Valentine 2015 Full Movie Watch Online HD

Friday, February 10, 2017

Meet our Developers Charity Checkout

Sunday, February 5, 2017

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Saturday, January 28, 2017

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Friday, January 27, 2017

Meet Jacqueline Davis my Virtual Assistant