Agenda Met Quotes

Huh? Oh you have a hidden agenda, do you?" She laughed. His straight-faced humor always surprised her. "You promised me you didn't." "There is nothing hidden about it," he replied. My objective is obvious. I've decided I'd rather have you describe me as 'sweet' than a 'slagging pain in the tailset.'" "Really?" "Well..." he looked up from the bag. "Maybe not in public." "I might be able to confine myself to saying it in private, if you gave me a reason." Taya met his eyes, and he blushed.

Only when we are responsive to the moment instead of driven by our agenda can we meet our children where they need to be met. When we connect effectively, there’s no drama. We deal with issues for what they are. This maintains the connection that’s the foundation of a child’s healthy development.

in 2014, the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association’s Decision magazine featured Putin on its cover, and Franklin Graham praised the Russian president for standing up to the “gay and lesbian agenda.” The next year, Graham met with Putin in Moscow, an occasion that prompted him to praise Putin as a defender of “traditional Christianity” while accusing President Obama of promoting atheism. In foreign policy as in domestic politics, the cult of masculinity can transform loyalties and reshape alliances.

COMMUNITY WAS HELD IN A LONG ROOM with tall barred windows that overlooked a redbrick wall. The smell of coffee was in the air, mingled with traces of Yuri’s aftershave. About thirty people were sitting in a circle. Most were clutching paper cups of tea or coffee, yawning and doing their best to wake up. Some, having drunk their coffees, were fidgeting with the empty cups, crumpling, flattening them, or tearing them to shreds. Community met once or twice daily; it was something between an administrative meeting and a group therapy session. Items relating to the running of the unit or the patients’ care were put on the agenda to be discussed

When you date as many women as I have, you learn that everyone has a construct they want to portray. Personalities become like outfits: carefully curated, a smokescreen for the brokenness inside. It’s hard to tell what’s underneath the layers everyone is wearing. Billie is the first woman I’ve met who comes at you naked. She admits when she’s wrong, isn’t afraid of telling you the terrible truth about what she’s done, and doesn’t have a secret agenda. She is what she is and that’s exactly what I fell in love with.

Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. The first time I met the boys of the Zodiac Brotherhood, I was forced to my knees for the introduction. Still grieving the death of my parents, I was a child queen, a pawn in my uncle’s agenda for wealth and gain. As my guardian, he had the authority to arrange a marriage upon my eighteenth birthday. That meeting took place six years ago. Now those boys are powerful men.

They are also aggressively lacking in scruples regarding how their agenda is met.” “Which usually means they’d be happy to feed puppies into a woodchipper,” Jason said. “Can I assume that a woodchipper is a device for turning large pieces of wood into very small pieces of wood?” Allayeth asked. “You can.” “And I assume that placing small, adorable animals into such a device would remove a considerable amount of their innocent charm.

Alex is basically the most irresponsible man I have ever met. He uses his powers to inflame paranoia. He boldly makes stuff up to suit his weird agenda. Alex eschews facts and reason and he definitely should not have political sway.

The received wisdom in advanced capitalist societies is that there still exists an organic “civil society sector” in which institutions form autonomously and come together to manifest the interests and will of citizens. The fable has it that the boundaries of this sector are respected by actors from government and the “private sector,” leaving a safe space for NGOs and nonprofits to advocate for things like human rights, free speech, and accountable government. This sounds like a great idea. But if it was ever true, it has not been for decades. Since at least the 1970s, authentic actors like unions and churches have folded under a sustained assault by free-market statism, transforming “civil society” into a buyer’s market for political factions and corporate interests looking to exert influence at arm’s length. The last forty years have seen a huge proliferation of think tanks and political NGOs whose purpose, beneath all the verbiage, is to execute political agendas by proxy.

Humans never outgrow their need to connect with others, nor should they, but mature, truly individual people are not controlled by these needs. Becoming such a separate being takes the whole of a childhood, which in our times stretches to at least the end of the teenage years and perhaps beyond. We need to release a child from preoccupation with attachment so he can pursue the natural agenda of independent maturation. The secret to doing so is to make sure that the child does not need to work to get his needs met for contact and closeness, to find his bearings, to orient. Children need to have their attachment needs satiated; only then can a shift of energy occur toward individuation, the process of becoming a truly individual person. Only then is the child freed to venture forward, to grow emotionally. Attachment hunger is very much like physical hunger. The need for food never goes away, just as the child's need for attachment never ends. As parents we free the child from the pursuit of physical nurturance. We assume responsibility for feeding the child as well as providing a sense of security about the provision. No matter how much food a child has at the moment, if there is no sense of confidence in the supply, getting food will continue to be the top priority. A child is not free to proceed with his learning and his life until the food issues are taken care of, and we parents do that as a matter of course. Our duty ought to be equally transparent to us in satisfying the child's attachment hunger. In his book On Becoming a Person, the psychotherapist Carl Rogers describes a warm, caring attitude for which he adopted the phrase unconditional positive regard because, he said, “It has no conditions of worth attached to it.” This is a caring, wrote Rogers, “which is not possessive, which demands no personal gratification. It is an atmosphere which simply demonstrates I care; not I care for you if you behave thus and so.” Rogers was summing up the qualities of a good therapist in relation to her/his clients. Substitute parent for therapist and child for client, and we have an eloquent description of what is needed in a parent-child relationship. Unconditional parental love is the indispensable nutrient for the child's healthy emotional growth. The first task is to create space in the child's heart for the certainty that she is precisely the person the parents want and love. She does not have to do anything or be any different to earn that love — in fact, she cannot do anything, since that love cannot be won or lost. It is not conditional. It is just there, regardless of which side the child is acting from — “good” or “bad.” The child can be ornery, unpleasant, whiny, uncooperative, and plain rude, and the parent still lets her feel loved. Ways have to be found to convey the unacceptability of certain behaviors without making the child herself feel unaccepted. She has to be able to bring her unrest, her least likable characteristics to the parent and still receive the parent's absolutely satisfying, security-inducing unconditional love. A child needs to experience enough security, enough unconditional love, for the required shift of energy to occur. It's as if the brain says, “Thank you very much, that is what we needed, and now we can get on with the real task of development, with becoming a separate being. I don't have to keep hunting for fuel; my tank has been refilled, so now I can get on the road again.” Nothing could be more important in the developmental scheme of things.

attachment is the first priority of living things. It is only when there is some release from this preoccupation that maturation can occur. In plants, the roots must first take hold for growth to commence and bearing fruit to become a possibility. For children, the ultimate agenda of becoming viable as a separate being can take over only when their needs are met for attachment, for nurturing contact, and for being able to depend on the relationship unconditionally. Few parents, and even fewer experts, understand this intuitively. “When I became a parent,” one thoughtful father who did understand said to me, “I saw that the world seemed absolutely convinced that you must form your children — actively form their characters rather than simply create an environment in which they can develop and thrive. Nobody seemed to get that if you give them the loving connection they need, they will flourish.” The key to activating maturation is to take care of the attachment needs of the child. To foster independence we must first invite dependence; to promote individuation we must provide a sense of belonging and unity; to help the child separate we must assume the responsibility for keeping the child close. We help a child let go by providing more contact and connection than he himself is seeking. When he asks for a hug, we give him a warmer one than he is giving us. We liberate children not by making them work for our love but by letting them rest in it. We help a child face the separation involved in going to sleep or going to school by satisfying his need for closeness. Thus the story of maturation is one of paradox: dependence and attachment foster independence and genuine separation. Attachment is the womb of maturation. Just as the biological womb gives birth to a separate being in the physical sense, attachment gives birth to a separate being in the psychological sense. Following physical birth, the developmental agenda is to form an emotional attachment wombfor the child from which he can be born once again as an autonomous individual, capable of functioning without being dominated by attachment drives.

There is yet another reason why peer-oriented kids are insatiable. In order to reach the turning point, a child must not only be fulfilled, but this fulfillment must sink in. It has to register somehow in the child's brain that the longing for closeness and connectedness is being met. This registration is not cognitive or even conscious, but deeply emotional. It is emotion that moves the child and shifts the energy from one developmental agenda to another, from attachment to individuation. The problem is that, for fulfillment to sink in, the child must be able to feel deeply and vulnerably — an experience most peer-oriented kids will be defended against. Peer-oriented children cannot permit themselves to feel their vulnerability. It may seem strange that feelings of fulfillment would require openness to feelings of vulnerability. There is no hurt or pain in fulfillment — quite the opposite. Yet there is an underlying emotional logic to this phenomenon. For the child to feel full he must first feel empty, to feel helped the child must first feel in need of help, to feel complete he must have felt incomplete. To experience the joy of reunion one must first experience the ache of loss, to be comforted one must first have felt hurt. Satiation may be a very pleasant experience, but the prerequisite is to be able to feel vulnerability. When a child loses the ability to feel her attachment voids, the child also loses the ability to feel nurtured and fulfilled. One of the first things I check for in my assessment of children is the existence of feelings of missing and loss. It is indicative of emotional health for children to be able to sense what is missing and to know what the emptiness is about. As soon as they are able to articulate, they should be able to say things like “I miss daddy,” “It hurt me that grandma didn't notice me,” “It didn't seem like you were interested in my story,” “I don't think so and so likes me.” Many children today are too defended, too emotionally closed, to experience such vulnerable emotions. Children are affected by what is missing whether they feel it or not, but only when they can feel and know what is missing can they be released from their pursuit of attachment. Parents of such children are not able to take them to the turning point or bring them to a place of rest. If a child becomes defended against vulnerability as a result of peer orientation, he is made insatiable in relation to the parents as well. That is the tragedy of peer orientation — it renders our love and affection so useless and unfulfilling. For children who are insatiable, nothing is ever enough. No matter what one does, how much one tries to make things work, how much attention and approval is given, the turning point is never reached. For parents this is extremely discouraging and exhausting. Nothing is as satisfying to a parent as the sense of being the source of fulfillment for a child. Millions of parents are cheated of such an experience because their children are either looking elsewhere for nurturance or are too defended against vulnerability to be capable of satiation. Insatiability keeps our children stuck in first gear developmentally, stuck in immaturity, unable to transcend basic instincts. They are thwarted from ever finding rest and remain ever dependent on someone or something outside themselves for satisfaction. Neither the discipline imposed by parents nor the love felt by them can cure this condition. The only hope is to bring children back into the attachment fold where they belong and then soften them up to where our love can actually penetrate and nurture.

I met him last night, and as if hypnotized, I’d followed him into his private jet. Now I stood inside a European-inspired estate in Madison, Wisconsin. I had gone home with a stranger, and I didn’t even know his name. He had refused to tell me, saying it wasn’t important. Not yet. “You'll be safe here.” He picked up what looked like a remote control from an antique wood mantelpiece and pressed a button. More bright light flooded the room. Beyond the glass wall, I caught a furious sparkle. A lake.

Net zoals Hitler de Brand van de Reichstag in de schoenen schoof van Marinus Vander Lubbe en zo een grote schoonmaak begon te houden in Duitsland, schuift Erdogan de coup geheel gratuit in de schoenen van Gülen om voortdurend mensen (het zijn er al meer dan 9.000!) te laten oppakken. Zijn zuiveringsactie, waadrbij de scheiding der machten niet langer wordt gerespecteerd, loopt geheel parallel met die van Hitler. Maar omdat Turkije lid is van de Navo kan Erdogan straks een spil slaan tussen Rusland en Amerika, genoeg voor een derde wereldoorlog. Natuurlijk wordt het prutsleger van Erdogan dan onder de zoden gelopen door het Russische leger, maar dan zal hij de hulp inroepen van zijn Navo-bondgenoot Amerika. Erdogan is met zijn dubbele agenda zowat de grootste bedreiging voor de wereldvrede en de Belgische Turken die nu achter hem staan kunnen straks gevaarlijke collaborateurs worden. Dus heren politici als het waar is dat 'gouverner c'est prévoir', begin dan maar nu met het terugsturen van al die domme Turkse oproepkraaiers in ons land naar het land van hun aanbeden Erdogan.

Over the years, "crazy" became my own reductive shorthand for every complicated, strong-willed woman I met. "Crazy" summed up the good and the bad in me and in all my friends. Where I might have recognized that we were no crazier than anyone else in the world, instead I simply drew a larger and larger circle of crazy around us, lumping together anyone unafraid of confrontation, anyone who openly admitted her weaknesses, anyone who pursued agendas that might be out of step with the dominant cultural noise of the moment. "Crazy" became code for "interesting" and "courageous" and "worth knowing."..that there's self hatred in this act of self-subterfuge. "Our future depends on the sanity of each of us," Rich writes, "and we have a profound stake, beyond the person, in the project of describing our reality as candidly and fully as we can to each other.

I had a chance to stand up for women who didn’t have a voice. If I turned it down, what values was I role modeling for my kids? Would I want them to turn down difficult tasks in the future and then tell me that they were following my example? And my own mother had a powerful influence on my choice, though she might not have known it. She always said to me as I was growing up, “If you don’t set your own agenda, somebody else will.” If I didn’t fill my schedule with things I felt were important, other people would fill my schedule with things they felt were important. Finally, I have always carried in my head images of the women I’ve met, and I keep photographs of the ones who have moved me the most. What was the point of their opening their hearts and telling me about their lives if I wasn’t going to help them when I had the chance? That clinched it for me.

These georgoi in turn shaped the ideals, institutions, and culture that gave rise to the polis. Unlike any prior civilization, the culture of the Greek polis combined citizen militias with the rule of law. That involved having a broad middle class of independent small landowners that met in assemblies where the votes of these nonelite determined laws, and foreign and domestic policy. These smallholders gained in status as population growth in the ninth and eighth centuries forced an agricultural revolution. Labor-intensive farming of marginal lands came to replace the Dark Age pastoral economy. This required a growth in private landownership, which motivated georgoi to assume the risks involved in cultivating land that was unproductive using traditional farming techniques. These farmers created the ritual of hoplite warfare to decide disputes in a manner that did not contradict their agrarian agenda. The georgoi and their agrarian ideology became the driving force behind the hoplite revolution during the early seventh century.

My little undomesticated pornstar pushed me so hard between her legs, my oxygen levels plummeted. She clenched around my fingers through her panties as an orgasm rolled through her in waves. The gush of warmth soaked the cotton. I kissed her through the fabric, again and again, knowing tomorrow everything would return to its proper position—my boundaries, my limits, my hang-ups, my demons. “Can I return the favor?” Dallas sat half up. “But not through your briefs. Men’s briefs always smell like old cheese that’s been sitting in a crockpot for days. I know because whenever my housekeeper went on vacation, we all took turns doing the laundry. And, well, I really shouldn’t say, but Dadd—” Not wanting the moment to be ruined with a conversation about her father’s underwear, I pulled forward, shutting her smart mouth with a kiss that tasted like her sweet pussy. At first, she pinched her lips and made a face, unsure what she thought about her own taste. But when I dragged the tip of my hard cock along her slit through our clothes, she went wild and kissed me back, shoving her tongue so deep down my throat I thought she would fish out my dinner. “Yes.” She wiggled against me. “Please, sir, may I have some more?” She’d quoted Oliver Twist while getting fucked. Truly, the woman was one of a kind. Knowing it was idiotic, and dangerous, and deranged, I pushed my tip through her slit. She was tight—tighter, still, through the tattered, stretched cotton of her ruined panties—but wet and sleek, ready for what was coming. The sensation, how warm and taut she felt, completely undid me. I thrust harder and deeper, entering her through our underwear, fucking her slowly with only flimsy fabric between us. I tore my mouth from hers, eyes glued to my cock each time it sank into her. I could barely fit inside, she was so tight. This was, by far, the best fuck I’d ever had. She panted. “Is this what people call dry-humping?” No. Nothing about this was dry. I was basically fucking her through our underwear. Only, explaining to her that this was full-blown sex with a side order of my issues was not in my plans for tonight. Or ever. “Sure.” Each push brought me closer to a climax. From slow, controlled, teasing thrusts designed to drive her mad with desire, I quickly derailed to jerky, manic, need-to-be-inside-this-woman plunges. Of a man so hungry for human connection, for affection, for carnal needs to be met and satisfied. My head grew dizzy. I’d taken into consideration the possibility that Dallas couldn’t come through penetration. It merely placed her in the same majority as most females on Planet Earth. But she shook, clawed, and reached for me, looking ready to climax. Her tits bounced and jiggled each time I slammed into her. Her mouth opened in awe, probably because this orgasm felt different from the first two. Deeper and more violent. She clutched the lapels of my shirt, shoving her face in mine. “Lose the underwear.” She met my thrust, groaning when my crown peeked past the slot in my boxer briefs. “I want you to come inside me. I want to feel you.” I was about two seconds from fulfilling her demand. Luckily, my logic grabbed the steering wheel, which my cock had seized sometime this evening, and derailed the situation from full-blown calamity. I managed to wait until she came, just barely, before pulling out, flipping her onto her stomach, and jerking off. I aimed for her bare ass but somehow came on her hair. No matter. She had plenty of time to wash it. Her agenda wasn’t exactly full. Dallas fell back onto the pillows, a lopsided grin on her face. (Chapter 31)

Zijn gedachten waren waarschijnlijk zo in beslag genomen door de agenda van de dag en de wens om niet te laat te komen, dat de omgeving niet meer dan een groene vlek was geweest met een heuvel als achtergrond. Het leven was heel anders als je er doorheen wandelde.

After Steve’s death I received letters of condolence from people all over the world. I would like to thank everyone who sent such thoughtful sympathy. Your kind words and support gave me the strength to write this book and so much more. Carolyn Male is one of those dear people who expressed her thoughts and feelings after we lost Steve. It was incredibly touching and special, and I wanted to express my appreciation and gratitude. I’m happy to share it with you. It is with a still-heavy heart that I rise this evening to speak about the life and death of one of the greatest conservationists of our time: Steve Irwin. Many people describe Steve Irwin as a larrikin, inspirational, spontaneous. For me, the best way I can describe Steve Irwin is formidable. He would stand and fight, and was not to be defeated when it came to looking after our environment. When he wanted to get things done--whether that meant his expansion plans for the zoo, providing aid for animals affected by the tsunami and the cyclones, organizing scientific research, or buying land to conserve its environmental and habitat values--he just did it, and woe betide anyone who stood in his way. I am not sure I have ever met anyone else who was so determined to get the conservation message out across the globe, and I believe he achieved his aim. What I admired most about him was that he lived the conservation message every day of his life. Steve’s parents, Bob and Lyn, passed on their love of the Australian bush and their passion for rescuing and rehabilitating wildlife. Steve took their passion and turned it into a worldwide crusade. The founding of Wildlife Warriors Worldwide in 2002 provided Steve and Terri with another vehicle to raise awareness of conservation by allowing individuals to become personally involved in protecting injured, threatened, or endangered wildlife. It also has generated a working fund that helps with the wildlife hospital on the zoo premises and supports work with endangered species in Asia and Africa. Research was always high on Steve’s agenda, and his work has enabled a far greater understanding of crocodile behavior, population, and movement patterns. Working with the Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service and the University of Queensland, Steve was an integral part of the world’s first Crocs in Space research program. His work will live on and inform us for many, many years to come. Our hearts go out to his family and the Australia Zoo family. It must be difficult to work at the zoo every day with his larger-than-life persona still very much evident. Everyone must still be waiting for him to walk through the gate. His presence is everywhere, and I hope it lives on in the hearts and minds of generations of wildlife warriors to come. We have lost a great man in Steve Irwin. It is a great loss to the conservation movement. My heart and the hearts of everyone here goes out to his family. Carolyn Male, Member for Glass House, Queensland, Australia October 11, 2006

Alex is basically the most irresponsible man I have ever met. He uses his powers to inflame paranoia. He boldly makes stuff up to suit his weird agenda. Alex eschews facts and reason and he definitely should not have political sway. The

Make sure meetings have clear goals, not just agendas, and ensure the goals are met. 4.

entertaining. I saw some Ramona in my freckled, skinny self. As a member of the Boy-Haters’ Club of America, I especially enjoyed laughing along as she chased Davy around the playground in Ramona the Pest. I didn’t think of myself as a pest, per se, but I did my fair share of terrorizing boys when the moment called for it. The moment often did call for it, since I was a true and loyal member of the BHCA. We met sporadically, whenever we were near the clubhouse, which was more often than you might think since it was an hour away. Our clubhouse was in the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia, on the second floor, behind an exhibit about dinosaurs. A set of carpeted steps led up to a large window with spectacular views that made it the ideal location for our meetings. There were two items on our agenda, and we had already done the first—singing the namesake song. My father wrote it, and the tune’s not very specific; it is most closely related to the opening for a local news show. Because it was so short we often sang it multiple times, as we did that day, the quality of our performances going down with each repetition. Once we’d settled down from that, it was time for the second half of our club business.

Towards that end, the soul provides you with experiences that are necessary, that purge or cleanse you. There is no such thing as a frivolous cleansing, and such experiences can take many familiar forms, such as illnesses or persistent inner sufferings. Others may be more spontaneous, the result of a sudden “aha” that hits home when you least expect it. For example, a man who rose very rapidly in the corporate world was enormously successful, but his arrogance, insecurity, and need for approval and attention made him unbearable to be around. Once his bank account was overflowing, he declared that he was being called by God to do good in the world, informed everyone that he was now a mystic, and set up a foundation to do good. But he went about all this with his old, bullish, corporate style. He had not changed inside, but would not admit that he was still a greedy, controlling, creature in spite of his declaration that he was now a mystic. Eventually, however, he met his match in a woman involved in a global project who told him that he did not qualify as a contributor, because, ‘You have an untrustworthy soul and until your soul is cleansed, we cannot have you sit among us. You will do more harm than good, in spite of your full wallet.’ He was stunned, but eventually admitted he had an agenda behind his charity work, and began the process of purification.

All smart women are crazy,” I once told an ex-boyfriend in a heated moment, in an attempt to depict his future options as split down the middle between easygoing dimwits and sharp women who were basically just me with different hairstyles. By “crazy,” I only meant “opinionated” and “moody” and “not always as pliant as one might hope.” I was translating my personality into language he might understand — he who used “psycho-chick” as a stand-in for “noncompliant female” and he whose idea of helpful counsel was “You’re too smart for your own good,” “my own good” presumably being some semivegetative state of acceptance which precluded uncomfortable discussions about our relationship. Over the years, “crazy” became my own reductive shorthand for every complicated, strong-willed woman I met. “Crazy” summed up the good and the bad in me and in all of my friends. Whereas I might have started to recognize that we were no more crazy than anyone else in the world, instead I simply drew a larger and larger circle of crazy around us, lumping together anyone unafraid of confrontation, anyone who openly admitted her weaknesses, anyone who pursued agendas that might be out of step with the dominant cultural noise of the moment. “Crazy” became code for “interesting” and “courageous” and “worth knowing.” I was trying to have a sense of humor about myself and those around me, trying to make room for stubbornness and vulnerability and uncomfortable questions.

Donkey had spoken to and petted dozens of dogs she'd seen jogging along the road or poking around for food at the edge of the Waters; some of them were traveling dogs, males chasing the scent of females in heat, while others had mysterious agendas they did not share. The cats she met were usually more elusive, hiding out and hunting until Molly saw the signs of their presence and trapped them and took them home and saved their lives all by herself. But dogs were valued in a town that knew them as man's best friend, and usually the loose dogs who appeared on Lovers Road were reunited with their owners or else were taken to the makeshift shelter Smiley Smith's mother had set up, where they were quickly adopted.

Mayfield Realties was situated on the sixtieth floor of Trump Tower in the bourgeoning business district of New York City. A little after eight a.m. Jett Mayfield sat in his office overlooking the busy street below. The people and yellow taxis looked like ants in constant motion: always hurried, always tense. Like the city, Jett had once been abuzz with life—or his former interpretation of it: live hard, work even harder. Until he met her. There was something about Brooke Stewart that had changed something inside him. It wasn’t her beautiful chestnut eyes, nor the way she moved—confident and yet reserved. She had talked to him on a deeper level, touching something he had thought untouchable. His initial intention had been different though. His agenda had been to make her fall for him, not through words, but through actions and sex, lots of the latter, because he had wanted something she had. Not for himself, but for the man and for the company to which he owed everything. But events

She shielded her eyes from the sun, her truck keys dangling down the back of her free hand, as Cooper lowered the passenger window and leaned forward so he could see her. “G’day, Starfish. Need a lift?” She needed a lot of things. Hot coffee, sisters who weren’t nosy, a clear vision about what should be next on her life agenda. Being inside a small, sporty vehicle, trapped mere inches from Cooper Jax, even for the short ride down to Half Moon Harbor? That she definitely did not need. “I’m good, thanks. And can we retire the nickname? Please?” He’d begun calling her that after she’d regaled him with a steady string of childhood stories of life lived by the sea, and he’d commented that she seemed too big a fish for such a small pond. A starfish, as it were. She’d rolled her eyes at the very bad pun, but the nickname had stuck. Aussies were big on nicknames. And the honest truth of it was, she hadn’t minded hearing him call her that, even though it had been a joke, delivered as a ribbing, not an endearment. Now? Now she wasn’t sure how he meant it, or what it made her feel when he said it. Better to just bury it right, Ker? Like you do everything that makes you uncomfortable. She really needed to find a way to strangle her little voice. “I’ve got a meeting,” she went on, not giving him a chance to respond. He nodded to the basket in her arms. “Yes, I can see that. Demanding lot, laundry.” She glanced down, then back at him. “No, with my sisters. About Fiona’s wedding.” “Yes, I heard about it.” She didn’t ask how he could possible know that, or who he’d been talking to this time, because any person in town could have brought him up to speed on the goings-on about pretty much any person he wanted to know about. The downside to being home. One of the great things about being a wanderer was that folks only knew whatever parts of her story she opted to share with them. Cooper, she realized now, had already known more than pretty much anyone she’d met in her travels up to that point. God only knows what he’d learned in the twenty-four hours he’d been in the Cove. She didn’t want to examine how that made her feel either. “Three McCrae weddings in less than a year,” he commented, as if casually discussing the weather. Then he grinned. “Is it catching?

Tom’s team distilled the thousand ideas down to 293 discussion topics. That was still way too many for a single day’s agenda, so a group of senior managers then met and whittled those down to 120 topics, organized into several broad categories such as Training, Environment and Culture; Cross-Show Resource Pooling (we often call our movies “shows”); Tools and Technology; and Workflow.

I met with every president every month initially (every quarter by year ten) to work on strategy, leadership, and personnel issues. The presidents and I addressed a joint agenda collaboratively.

Some of the wisest patients and people I have ever met have been children. The heart of a child is wide-open. Children will tell you what scares them, what makes them happy, and what they like about you and what they don’t. There is no hidden agenda, and you never have to guess how they really feel.

It’s embarrassing for any executive or professional to forget the name of the person you just met, but it’s not life-changing. It’s the other working memory lapses that have a much bigger impact on your relationships and your career: consistently veering off course during a conversation, interrupting people because you’re afraid you’ll forget what you want to say, or arriving late for important meetings because once again you got caught up in a phone call. It’s not just frustrating for you – but for everyone else around you. No matter how good your intentions are, weak working memory will wreak havoc with your results. The significance of working memory to your overall performance cannot be overstated. It is the linchpin to all other executive functions. If it’s in top working order, other executive functions will be too. When prioritizing, working memory helps you remember – in the moment – all possible priorities while you sort through them. When planning, working memory helps you hold in your head all the details that you need to make time for. Regulating your emotions requires you to remember what you’re trying to achieve – despite the pull of strong feelings. You may be accomplished and highly intelligent and still struggle with working memory. When you do, the contrast between your intellectual ability and your ability to execute consistently can have a devasting impact on your self-concept. No matter how smart you are, or how much you care, the people around you may judge you for these working memory lapses and not who you truly are. Worse, you may be judging yourself. Here are some ways to support your working memory: Identify when you will need memory strategies You are unique. Know your strengths and weaknesses. Great memory strategists know themselves and have a tool kit for every occasion. Good strategies are efficient, automatic and flexible. Assume you’ll forget – everything Never assume you’ll remember something just because it’s front of mind right now. Your brain needs a strategy to remember it 30 minutes from now. Or tomorrow. Create your own external hard drives Visuals are essential. Plans, agendas, and a central notebook are all great. Whatever method you choose, it should be in plain sight. If you have to open a device, or look for the post-it-note, you’re giving your working memory one more thing to remember – which will definitely not help you. Create visual memory This is a good trick for someone with solid inner vision. Put the idea into your mind’s eye. See it. Experience it. Describe it to yourself. When time comes to remember it, go to your mind’s eye to find it. Say it out loud As you say it out loud to yourself or another person, really pay attention to the words. If you forget names, repeat that person’s name and look at them while focusing on connecting their name to what you know about them. Chunk information Practice categorizing or chunking items that go together and focus on the chunk, not the detail. Your working memory remembers chunks of information much better than 30 odd details. Pay attention to your working memory and show the world – and yourself – just how amazing you are!

Finally, we see that narcissistic students are now coequal drivers with their professors when it comes to rapidly evolving victim theory. By one count, there are now 117 categories of gender identity, many of those developed by students struggling to find some last way to be transgressive in an environment where their every self-involved claim of victimhood is met with tender attention and apologies from the campus diversity bureaucracy. How those 117 categories will play out for public policy remains to be seen. The ultimate agenda here, however, is to destroy any last shred of female modesty that might stand in the way of the total normalization of casual promiscuity, in obedience to the sexual-liberation movement of the 1960s. Many girls are embarrassed to be seen naked by other girls. Now, however, they are being told to swallow their inhibitions if a boy is in their bathroom or locker room. This can be achieved only by adopting a stance of utter indifference to the powerful, primal taboos around nakedness and sex—in other words, to adopt the sad sexual crudeness of the stars of Sex and the City or of Lena Dunham. And according to progressive elites, any parent or school official who disagrees is standing in the way of moral progress. One shrinks to contemplate what the academy is cooking up next.

The Christian right’s religious freedom agenda isn’t just about holiday greetings and clergy endorsement of candidates. Most urgently in 2016, the leaders who met with Trump that day had spent the past eight years fighting some of the signature achievements of Barack Obama’s presidency: the passage of the Affordable Care Act, particularly its regulation requiring that employer-sponsored health care plans include full coverage for contraception, and the rapid and historic expansion of LGBTQ rights.

Ik sta met petje in het Vreemdelingenrantsoen. Als roosje.

Fort Sumter, the Dubuque Herald accused the administration of goading Southerners into war: Nothing will satisfy the fanatics of the North but a provocation to civil war, in which they may accomplish their darling object—that which they have toiled for many years: the incitement of slaves to insurrection against their masters, and … the consequent emancipation of those slaves, the abolition of slavery, and the ruin and subjugation of the South to the political thraldom of Northern fanaticism. Even War Democrats were wary of a hidden agenda to get rid of slavery. One, John Campbell of Philadelphia, suspected that a scheming Britain was behind the abolitionist movement “to do us all the mischief she is able.” Nevertheless, he thought the administration “must not be crippled in its efforts to suppress rebellion and punish traitors.”18 Suspicions about the Republicans’ real aims ran so deep among some Democrats that Lincoln met with scoffs when he insisted that he had no intention of touching slavery where it already existed.

They assume that there are intimacies and a closeness that do not exist with people they’ve just met, and they twist a person’s kindness into sexual interest (because they themselves do not express kindness to others without an agenda).

If everyone came with the posture to give, rather than the agenda to take, everyone would leave filled, while also getting their needs met.

Zolpidem Kopen – Voor een Rustige en Ononderbroken Nachtrust Slaap is een essentieel onderdeel van ons dagelijks leven, maar voor veel mensen is het moeilijk om voldoende rust te krijgen. Of je nu last hebt van slapeloosheid door stress, een drukke agenda, of andere oorzaken, een slechte nachtrust kan invloed hebben op je gezondheid en welzijn. Gelukkig biedt Zolpidem kopen een effectieve oplossing voor mensen die moeite hebben met slapen. In dit artikel bespreken we wat Zolpidem is, de voordelen ervan en hoe je het veilig kunt bestellen. Wat is Zolpidem? Zolpidem is een voorgeschreven slaapmiddel dat behoort tot de klasse van geneesmiddelen die bekend staan als hypnotica. Het wordt gebruikt voor de behandeling van slapeloosheid, vooral wanneer mensen moeite hebben om in slaap te vallen of de slaap niet kunnen vasthouden. Zolpidem werkt door de hersenactiviteit te vertragen, wat resulteert in een kalmerend effect en helpt bij het inslapen. Dit slaapmiddel heeft over het algemeen minder bijwerkingen en is veiliger dan andere slaapmiddelen zoals benzodiazepinen. Zolpidem kopen kan een tijdelijke oplossing zijn voor mensen die worstelen met slaapstoornissen, maar het is belangrijk om het alleen te gebruiken zoals voorgeschreven door een arts. Waarom Zolpidem Kopen? Er zijn verschillende redenen waarom Zolpidem kopen een verstandige keuze kan zijn voor mensen die moeite hebben met slapen. De belangrijkste voordelen van Zolpidem zijn: Snel werkend: Zolpidem begint vaak binnen 15 tot 30 minuten te werken, wat het ideaal maakt voor mensen die snel willen in slaap vallen. Verbetert de slaapkwaliteit: Zolpidem zorgt niet alleen voor sneller inslapen, maar helpt je ook om ononderbroken te slapen. Dit betekent dat je 's ochtends uitgeruster wakker wordt. Minder bijwerkingen: Zolpidem heeft over het algemeen minder bijwerkingen in vergelijking met andere slaapmiddelen. Veel mensen ervaren geen kater of vermoeidheid de volgende ochtend. Kortdurend gebruik: Het is ontworpen voor kortdurend gebruik, waardoor de kans op afhankelijkheid of verslaving veel lager is dan bij langdurig gebruik van andere middelen. Waar Kun je Zolpidem Bestellen? Als je besluit Zolpidem te kopen, is het belangrijk om dit te doen bij een betrouwbare online apotheek. Bij Benzobestellen.net kun je Zolpidem eenvoudig en discreet bestellen. Hier zijn enkele voordelen van het bestellen via een erkende aanbieder: Snel en discreet: Je bestelling wordt snel en discreet verpakt, zodat je privacy gewaarborgd blijft. 100% originele producten: Je ontvangt altijd originele en betrouwbare Zolpidem-pillen die effectief werken en van hoge kwaliteit zijn. Veilige betalingen: Betalingen worden gedaan via veilige en betrouwbare betalingsmethoden, waardoor je gemoedsrust hebt tijdens het bestelproces. Tips voor Veilig Gebruik van Zolpidem Hoewel Zolpidem kopen een effectieve oplossing kan zijn voor slapeloosheid, is het belangrijk om het middel op een verantwoorde manier te gebruiken. Hier zijn enkele belangrijke richtlijnen: Volg de dosering: Gebruik altijd de aanbevolen dosering om ongewenste bijwerkingen te voorkomen. Vermijd alcohol: Het combineren van Zolpidem met alcohol kan de werking versterken, wat kan leiden tot ongewenste effecten. Zorg voor voldoende slaap: Neem Zolpidem alleen in als je zeker weet dat je 7 tot 8 uur ononderbroken kunt slapen. Gebruik het niet langdurig: Zolpidem is bedoeld voor kortdurend gebruik. Als je langdurige slaapproblemen hebt, raadpleeg dan een arts voor verdere behandeling. Conclusie Zolpidem kopen kan een effectieve manier zijn om je slaap te verbeteren en slapeloosheid te verhelpen. Het helpt je sneller in slaap te vallen en zorgt voor een diepere, ononderbroken nachtrust. Door Zolpidem online te bestellen bij Benzobestellen.net ben je verzekerd van een veilige en betrouwbare aankoop. Volg altijd de gebruiksaanwijzing om het beste resultaat te behalen en geniet van een gezonde nachtrust.