Leather Sofas Ripped What Can I Do

happened in Paris ...

After enjoying much of my long-awaited April Fair and having been retrieving a part of fatigue (the years do not go in vain and the ability recovery is inversely proportional to the fulfillment of years, haha \u200b\u200b..) finally retake the blog and republish, something which otherwise I really wanted!

Our dear Happy Eyes , I had a surprise prepared for my return so, how could it be otherwise, this post is now public and absolutely pure fault, haha \u200b\u200b...

has had the fantastic idea to repeat a successful experiment last year I decided to make in my blog and once we had spoken, saying it would be fun to do it again. The experiment was to write a history of several bloggers, which turns out to be quite interesting for all involved: it is curious to see how it is imagining the story every blogger who works and finally see the thing just totally different from how you had imagined.

Finally, I roll it up again, as always happens to me, lol ...

Before turning to the story, I wanted to say I am delighted that Happy has taken the initiative to write the first part of the story, which has told me to write the second part (which at first overwhelmed me a bit different because when you have to adhere to write about something, at least happens to me, that inspire me more trouble and I can block easier), I'm glad been able to overcome the challenge and I hope you like all who read it and live up to expectations as both Happy those who already read the first part of your blog.

And without further delay, here I leave the first part and then the second part, which is what I have touched me and that, humbly, I tried to give some excitement and suspense (I hope I have done it!).

PART 1

(written by Happy Eyes)

traveled from Madrid to Paris. Alex was a girl who wanted to be like his muse, Coco Chanel. He used his perfume, cosmetics signature, and although he could not afford both glamorous dress, hiding the tabs of a false signature Chanel plagiarized. Total, who would notice?

Her friends did not share his fondness for fashion, not for luxury, or even liked the same kind of men. Capel was looking for her ...

And now he was there with his bag of skin from the Eiffel Tower. He called a taxi that took her to a small hotel, and once tweaked their style, went out to explore the streets of Paris.

The dress emphasized her figure. The hat hid his deep eyes and his feet were firmly on a vertiginous heels.

looked at his agenda and drew a smiley face next to an address he had previously written. He had reached the restaurant all the guidebooks recommend Paris: La Tour d'Argent.

The waiter came up to her, and while recognizing that it was a French woman and was happy to explain the different dishes you could try, she replied in perfect French.

first requested a glass of port, accompanied by some canapés. Then a salad and the second a fish, along with a serving of cheese that the waiter kindly served as was a French custom, which of course she expected. Finally ended his evening with a piece of cake and a coffee.

could not help but glimpse the beauty that showed the Eiffel Tower until it was inconveniently interrupted ....

PART 2

(written by me)

... An unexpected hand icy was planted on his shoulder so quickly that quickly got out of the imaginary tag that Alex had climbed to better enjoy the charm that inspired the Parisian streets.

- Florian "?! Damn, what scared me! He exclaimed after the shock, I've been waiting over an hour. Can you explain why you gave me sit? "Uttered with a certain anger.

- I knew I'd find you here yet! - Responded just speechless.

The young man's haggard face and the lanky wheezing and shortness warned Alex.

- Is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!

- Schhhh! Hush! We have no time for explanations! After me!

- How do you pursue? What are you talking about?! Suddenly

Florian looked back.

- Shit ... They come! ... Run! - Said holding hands in a hurry.

The confusion is completely seized of Alex, who ran helter-skelter after his friend because of his heels, scared and unsure of what they fled.

At the end of the street suddenly two men dressed in a black striding more rigorous two feet given its considerable size. Ignoring traffic lights, dodging cars and more of a push Florian Alex and tried to get lost among the crowd, but those men are increasingly closer and at times seemed to step on your heels.

They got into a lane overlooking a large square full of street stalls. Like every Saturday, the market was packed with people, quick into him, trying to erase its traces from the bustle, it had not been mislead men who seemed to have a radar in his head to return them to locate each Once lost sight around a corner or reach an intersection.

- Florian ", why do we pursue these men?! What do you want? My God, what will happen if we met?! - He asked as he jumped to people.

- after me because I have something you are looking for and until they get it will not stop! What I keep in my possession is something that is worth millions: there are even people who would kill for it! - Florian said, noting the small leather bag with the Chanel symbol on the front that had pierced in the chest.

- But what are you telling me? How that could reach to kill to get what you have hidden there?! What could be so important?!

- Very simple! I recently discovered ... "And before revealing the mystery, Florian saw that his pursuers were too close and not lose a second decided to stake everything on one card.

- Alex, hurry! Take it and hide! They do not know who you are, do not even have seen his face! Will be easier to escape! Said giving the briefcase - In one of the compartments will find a small agenda, one name is Eugene pointed, work with me and we are good friends, is the only person I can trust, call it! He will know how to help!

- But Florian ..! - Screamed in fear.
- Please, you must help me! Do not waste time! I'll look when night comes, do not worry, we do not catch any, but it is better to separate. Run! - Said the French affectionately squeezing hands. Each

went in one direction.

Looking back over and over again to see if pursued, Alex continued his hasty way, without really knowing what to do, until he noticed a cache might work. Or maybe not but between the shock about the squalor of that thrilling chase and was not accustomed to so much physical effort, thought he was going to die of a heart attack if I kept running. Got

hiding without anyone noticing and there, hidden under that stall full of vegetables and fruit remains in poor condition, out of breath and his heart beating so fast it looked like it was going to come out of the mouth, Alex I could not believe what had just experienced.

Florian was a fine young Frenchman who had known for years as they were leaving party at the crazy nights in Madrid during the time he came to the English capital to work Devotee Lomba. They had always got along quite well: it was the only one of his friends who understand your love of fashion and glamor that emanated from the great myths of this world.

take some time without seeing it was something more than a year and a half that Florian had been presented the opportunity to fulfill her dream of working for your firm favorite, one that for him and for many it was the queen of queens Chanel House.

Alex tried to look through that translucent fabric that covered the underside of the stalls which had been de Florian. Do you have caught?

- my God, who has escaped! "For heaven's sake, not me Discovered! God, who has escaped! ! For heaven's sake, that I discovered! - Praying in a whisper without stopping.

With almost certainty that they had not seen his face and with the confidence that your nice green hat, that was the hallmark of her dress, and not because he had thrown betrayed not without some effort to be your favorite and the only one who was signing, he began to calm down a bit to see that there had hidden at least twenty minutes without being discovered by these men, nor even by the shopkeeper, who had not had time to stop for a minute depending on their extensive and impatient customers.

was when he dared to stop looking through the web a while and wanted to satisfy their curiosity by opening the case to see what was in it. Nerve carefully uncovered what:

- What is this? She thought as she pulled a small sketchbook that looked quite old. Logically

soon open it to see what was in those pages worn. And suddenly his face became a pure reflection of surprise: I could not believe what they saw your eyes!

Yellowness of those old papers remained no beauty sketches authored immediately recognized. Those drawings were more than forty years and had created nothing more and nothing less than his adored Coco Chanel!

And what was more unusual still: were unpublished! Those suits were never to become works of art made with luxurious fabrics, I knew it was well aware of each and every one of the collections that had taken the Chanel House since the founding of its creator.

find it I kept a weird and sinister coincidence that his first trip to Paris had met so fully with the world of fashion and much less so unheard of that, it was almost movie.

Absorbed to the shock of his discovery, I thought about how much could be worth exclusive of those pictures I was looking at hiding in the low vegetable stall. And then he asked how the sketches came at the hands of his friend. Hesitated to consider whether the allegedly stolen or instead was trying to not fall into the wrong hands. After

enjoy them all, kept looking into the case if there was more: it was only the calendar that had spoken Florian. Nothing else pick it up, looked at as Eugène. Came the phone number, home address and your email.

Now that he knew the importance of what they possessed and how dangerous it was be, had not the faintest idea how to deal with the mess that had been involved. He pulled the phone from her bag, which luckily still had battery and was quick to call this guy.

- Hello!
- Eugène? I'm Alex, a friend of Florian. I need your help! ...

*** ***

And here the second part of the story. It was a pleasure: I have a lot of fun writing it!

Now I pass the baton to our dear Yandro . What, you've made it very complicated? hahaha ... I'm sure you were reading as you were turning your head imagining incandescent lamps in a third and final part. I'm anxious to see what roads you take to the protagonists of this story! hehehe ...

To read the third and final part of the story cock: "Here

That

Malenadu Mallige Blue Film

The other side of pregnancy.

We sell (and sell) a rosy vision of motherhood and fatherhood: we believe that pregnancy is the ideal state wish granted where there is nothing to worry about more than his good performance; a state in which the pregnant mother sits in a rocking chair knitting booties made of wool as the months pass and the father caresses his belly interés.O coon in the best case, a state in which the mother may continue their "normal" and "remain the same," however.
It is not true, at least, not the latter, nor is it true that raising children enough affection.

In a normal pregnancy will have personal difficulties and moments of tension and adjustment that no one spoke up ahora.Tanto pregnancy and childbirth and raising a child are roads full of responsibility and capacity we require adaptation and constant improvement, both at the individual and family level, so people who are parents often say that is the best thing that has happened in my life, because it really is a rare opportunity for personal growth and gratification is usually hard- equally great.

is not unusual for new parents landing earlier than expected and without much preparation, a maternity and paternity is revealed distressing complex, uncertain and hard.

And is that from the moment of "positive" start a process in which the mother and father continue to have to accept facts (physical and psychological) associated with their new state which sometimes do not are at all compatible with the idea after having to "receive" the baby, get the tummy, get the feel of a child growing inside of one, be the protagonists of a unique event ... no change to more appropriate medical checks , some patience and look forward.

What are the parents instead? They find that not only are your future child, but have to give and put much of his party. That is the embryo grows pulling for himself, who asks that you wear, which borrows the mother's body to become and which requires, of course, some parents prepared for everything strong and capable.

The first experience when landing on this reality can be of alienation, estrangement, guilt and even rejection. And it's not uncommon to feel a deep sadness in the first months of pregnancy, because nothing is as a thought and days, instead of wrapped in spring echoes are passed vomiting, dizzy, sleepless, tearful, trapped in one's own desire to became a reality.

So many parents go through their first pregnancy (between laughter and tears) and so they learn the first lessons of fatherhood. Learning what is the tolerance to physical discomfort. Learning what is to stop being so self important and live with the international presence of an "other", his son, forever. Adapting to handle the unpredictable, the new .. dive into the totally unknown.

And that is to receive smiles, chubby thighs, little teeth sticking out and hands that embrace our finger .. must first give, accept and change our old skin for new skin: stronger, more generous, more animal. And if there is no transformation, no life, no actual maternity or paternity, there is no possibility of including a child in our lives and there is no possibility of development for the child we raise.

not even pretend to give a negative view of pregnancy, but a realistic and mature. A vision mature and no time for advertising. And a vision of calm also, because I do not intend to alarm anyone but to put things in place: pregnancy, childbirth and postpartum processes are intense, magical and wonderful, but not always friendly. Nor do I blame: virtually all parents that we've been through same or similar thing at some point, because paternity and change two words are intrinsically connected and nobody is born (or brought to the world) knowing.

So now and for the rest of our lives as parents, it is necessary to make constant adjustment between personal expectations and reality. And I say that is necessary precisely because in that setting expectations lies the opportunity to enjoy what you're experiencing, but by now we can imagine to enjoy should not always be taken literally, but rather as substantive satisfaction we get when we engage deeply with what we experienced. A That's what they call full. Violeta

Alcocer.
Illustration: Yamile Llanes.

Sample Letter To Request Housing Allowance

My child does not talk to me.



I keep reading and hear something that I feared for some time and I guess I will end by becoming fashionable as well: how to teach your baby to talk.

confuse stimulation methods and we started to train our children things that happen without any intervention other than the natural parent-child interaction-environment.

Why should this overacting on each and every one of the facts of development? Really worries me.

I have already commented on some occasions that today's parents maintain an unhealthy desire (to have) to get all the medals, in fact, correspond to small. Children "eat us" good, bad or average. "We took" the pacifier, the bibe and the diaper (and full of pride we say, while the child looks at us as if he had nothing to do with it) and "pull get to sleep" or teach him to sleep "to leave us little calm 12 of the 24 hours live on our side (that is to say, because of the remaining 12 it is possible that together we are really only 2 or 3).

any case, made so simple and natural as eating, sleeping, sucking or control their bowels and not their own children, but their proud parents, who have read a book or in the worst have followed the "popular methodology." I wonder if, after the need to attribute the achievements of others (those of our children) do not hide an obsessive need for control ... or perhaps stolen childhood itself, the very need for approval, visibility, to make things right.
are very legitimate needs, we all have, but not at the expense of the invisibility of our children, please.

However, as the above issues been debated for years, positioning, testing and error (or hitting). For months made a mental review of the few achievements that you are the child to claim for itself and so a priori I could think of two: the language and walking.

However, concerns have begun to appear on the subject: mothers and fathers who worry (much) because the teacher on duty will suggest a visit to a speech therapist because his child three years do not pronounce or speak as well is to wait. " Families who suspect a delay in language development because their small, two did not speak as did his brother. These families know that the language is much more than words: they know that the child is a code language most often not verbal, which can be decrypted only by staying in connection with the child.

started reading techniques to "stimulate language, exercises to tone the speech apparatus, and various methods for our small talk and speak out" as appropriate "ages and we have established for this purpose (two years and should talk like parrots). We want our children are as we say they are children. And we want to always be "like everyone else."

If we knew how dangerous and irresponsible which is the tendency to "normalization" and "uniformity" that we are seeing in these years, we would think twice before phobic avoid anything that represents individuality, uniqueness, the particularity and personal pace in the growing child.

differences enrich us and strengthen our self-esteem, otherwise we mackerel and subject us to enter standards shared by only a few: the uniform condemnation of people (children) to fail personnel, the sticker on the poor valuation and, worse, express renunciation of what one really is and how it really is.

To let you all know: kids do not need to teach them to speak, we need to let them talk .... and they listen. Spend time with them, read them stories, sing their songs, they whisper in my ear, I do raspberries. You put words to his feelings and our love, affection, anger, rage. Soften us with their mistakes and fall exhausted his accomplishments.
Because the words coming out of his mouth, whether many or few, write the book of life, not ours. And let me

irony, but when passing fashion to "teach to talk," I'm sure of one thing: hundreds of parents (the ones who cared for the child did not speak) will go to bookstores and nervous queries asking "And now, how do you shut up?". Violeta

Alcocer.
Illustration: Tan Shau

Recycle Bottles For Cash

Parole ...

Parole night was pretty quiet. The waitress watched from the bar to entertain customers. Sitting on the sofa in the window, Anna and Leo were already by the third drink and conversation, which could be heard without much difficulty, began to get interesting ...

- Tino yours! You've gone to fix the more complicated women on the planet!

How To Reduce Bilirubin Level

Sex Now With X: Prize (III) ...

And finally published the third and final part of this prize: the story in which, as I promterí a Happy Eyes, would be the protagonist. Hope you like it. To better understand the essence of history is highly recommended to read the interview I did with Happy in the post before this one (Now with X Sex: Award (II)).

For those who did not read the first two parts and want to do, here are links:

"Now with X Sex: Award (I)"

"Now with X Sex: Award (II)"

Without further ado: the story!

EYE GIRL HAPPY

stare That

I did travel for a moment from my past, a past that sometimes had wished not to have ever lived. He was briefly cross paths with the girl with black eyes and feel myself as an arrow pierced the soul seeking its target accurate.

I shuddered at the thought that the reflection of that look I was too familiar: who knew well how it feels to close your eyes and that nothing will overwhelm you, to wake up one morning in a glass cube, caged and tied countless threads that are stuck in the flesh until enmarañarte the soul in a world of chaos, a world sometimes dark, sometimes light, shadows and light, joy and sorrow, two parallel worlds, convergent and unclaimed .

time stopped in the darkness of those jet black eyes that hid a wounded soul and heart traveler without luggage or destiny, but luckily that darkness was not able to extinguish its light. While there is light there is hope, and while there is hope, yet all is not lost.

I approached her. There were no words, only gestures and looks that said it all ...

"Suffering is more chronic pain, to transform a time when a state. Is to stick to the memory of what not to stop mourn mourn, not to forget, not to give it up, but sometimes you have to lose to win.

is time to untie the knots of the soul, to bury silence and sadness and try to explore other worlds, other perspectives, other colors.

If you have all the colors at your fingertips, why choose only the dark? Why not change the nostalgia for the joy, disappointment and hope, sorrow and joy?

The day you do you cast your cage and you can fly again . Only then those black eyes will be lost!

The day I decided to do so I started calling "the girl with bright eyes."

***

Dedicated to Happy Eyes.

All brown wonderful phrases are taken from his blog. I've only handled and combined on a whim to create this little story about his nickname. Hope you like, Happy! Inspired

also something that one day someone told me about the stained glass ...