Rec Quotes

The meeting was like a war council with donuts. Then again, back at Camp Half-Blood they used to have their most serious discussions around the Ping-Pong table in the rec room with crackers and Cheez Whiz, so Percy felt right at home.

I couldn't picture myself with a boyfriend, but if I had to, I envisioned a nice normal guy who turned in his math homework on time and maybe even played rec baseball.

I also stole a small yellow doughnut from the box of Duncan's doughnuts in the rec room and fed it to the attack poodle in my office. He made a great production of it. First, he growled at the doughnut, just to show it who was boss. Then he nudged it with his nose. Then he licked it, until finally he snagged it into his mouth and chomped it with great pleasure, dropping crumbs all over the carpet.

What we call chaos is just pat­terns we haven’t rec­og­nized. What we call ran­dom is just pat­terns we can’t de­ci­pher. What we can’t un­der­stand we call non­sense. What we can’t read we call gib­ber­ish.

This is a great trap of the twentieth century: on one side is the logic of the market, where we like to imagine we all start out as individuals who don't owe each other anything. On the other is the logic of the state, where we all begin with a debt we can never truly pay. We are constantly told that they are opposites, and that between them they contain the only real human possibilities. But it's a false dichotomy. States created markets. Markets require states. Neither could continue without the other, at least, in anything like the forms we would rec­ognize today.

We came together as a team, but we´re leaving as brothers.

Hosiah Lister, now dead, rec'd his freedom.

Peo­ple are look­ing for how to put ev­ery­thing to­geth­er. They need a uni­fied field the­ory that com­bines glam­our and ho­li­ness, fash­ion and spir­itu­al­ity. Peo­ple need to rec­on­cile be­ing good and be­ing good-​look­ing.

We ain't felt the rain for two years, said Jae, the black woman. In Brooklyn there's a little rec deck they take us up on, but it's covered over, barbed wire and shit, and you don't really see the sky, she explained. So we don't mind the rain. We love it. And she put her head back again, face up, as close to the sky as it could get.

Ponekad mi se ucini da mi beze pod nogama putevi i daljine. I kadgod mi se dogodi da dospem u daleko, i stanem nasred njega i mislim: konacno, evo me; ako podignem oci, vidim da svako najdalje ima svoje jos dalje. Mozda je to i sreca. Mozda imam u sebi nesto duze od krajeva. Mozda imam u sebi toliko mnogo sveta, da se nikada, nigde, nec...e moci zavrsiti. Nije rec o zivotu, nego o njegovom dejstvu. Jer neke stvari se ne mogu saznati samo ocima. Postoje u meni mnoga, neverovatna cula. Cula vode i vazduha, metala, ikre, semenja,... Oni koji me srecu, misle da ja to putujem. A ne putujem ja. To beskraj po meni hoda. Od koje sam ja vrste? Znam jednu novu igru. Zaustavim se naprasno i ne micem se satima. Pravim se kao da razmisljam i da u sebi rastem. Cinim to dosta uverljivo. Dok imitiram drvece, neko sa strane, neupucen, stvarno bi pomislio da sam pustio korenje. Razlistavam se sluhom. Zagrljajima. Disanjem. Cak se i ptice prevare, pa mi slete u kosu i gnezde mi se na ramenu. Pravim se da sam trom sanjar. Nespretan penjac. Spor saputnik. Pravim se da mi je tesko da se savijam preko belih ostrica realnog. Pravim se da mi nedostaje hitrina iznenadnog skracivanja u tacku i produzetka u nedogled... Ja ne upoznajem svet, vec ga samo prepoznajem. Ne idem da ga otkrivam, nego da ga se prisetim, kao nekakve svoje daleke uspomene. Jer mnogo puta sam bio gde nisam jos koracao. I mnogo puta sam ziveo u onom sto jos ne poznajem. I mnogo puta sam grlio to sto ce tek biti oblici. Zato izgledam izgubljen i neprestano se osvrcem. A u sebi se smeskam. Jer, ako niste znali, svet je cudesna igracka. Moze li se izgubiti neko u nekakvom vremenu i nekakvom prostoru, ako u sebi nosi sva vremena i prostore?... Smeta mi krov da sanjam. Smeta mi nebo da verujem...

Hosiah Lister, now dead, rec'd his freedom." Consider, then, the full measure of my sadness, reading this inscription; not merely for Hosiah Lister, but for all of us, consider the dear cost of liberty in a world so hostile, so teeming with enemies and opportunists, that one could not become free without casting aside all casualty, all choice, all will, all identity; finding freedom only in the spacious blankness of unbeing, the wide plains of nonentity, infinite and still.

Music is our life

There is a difference between people who strive and those who merely work hard. Levittown was full of hard workers, hourly wage-earners who eagerly stepped forward for overtime shifts and spent what extra money they had to repave their driveways, build rec rooms, or buy RVs....it was full of people who felt they had *arrived*.

You're one of them de Luce girls over from Buckshaw. I'd rec'nize them cold blue eyes anywhere.

Rec Room! Wow!" My eyes would have glazed over if they hadn't started out that way, pre-glazed. "I've always wanted to be a guy with a rec room.

What did those people teach you?" he asked me one night, mystified. "What exactly do Catholics believe?" I'd been preparing my whole life for this question. "First of all, blood. BLOOD. Second of all, thorns. Third of all, put dirt on your forehead. Do it right now. Fourth of all, Martin Luther was a pig in a cloak. Fifth of all, Jesus is alive, but he's also dead, and he's also immortal, but he's also made of clouds, and his face is a picture of infinite peace, but he also always looks like one of those men in a headache commercial, because you'rec causing him so much suffering whenever you cuss. He is so gentle that sheep seem like demented murderers in his presence, but also rays of sunlight shoot out of his face so hard they can kill people. In fact, they do kill people, and one day they will kill you. He has a tattoo of a daisy on his lower back and he gets his hair permed every eight weeks. He's wearing a flowing white dress, but only because people didn't know about jeans back then. He's holding up two fingers because his dad won't let him have a gun. If he lived on earth, he would have a white truck, plastered with bumper stickers of Calvin peeing on a smaller Calvin who is not a Catholic." Jason was aghast. "Thorns?" he whispered. "But that's the most dangerous part of the rose.

Just the other night, when I was drafting a blog post, I’d gone to listen to our Spotify playlist, only to find that the name had been changed from “zoe + eliza g8 hits” to “recs for divya.” Which, rationally speaking, is a small thing. Insignificant.

THE COUNCIL WAS NOTHING LIKE Jason imagined. For one thing, it was in the Big House rec room, around a Ping-Pong table, and one of the satyrs was serving nachos and sodas. Somebody had brought Seymour the leopard head in from the living room and hung him on the wall. Every once in a while, a counselor would toss him a Snausage. Jason looked around the room and tried to remember everyone’s name. Thankfully, Leo and Piper were sitting next to him—it was their first meeting as senior counselors. Clarisse, leader of the Ares cabin, had her boots on the table, but nobody seemed to care. Clovis from Hypnos cabin was snoring in the corner while Butch from Iris cabin was seeing how many pencils he could fit in Clovis’s nostrils. Travis Stoll from Hermes was holding a lighter under a Ping-Pong ball to see if it would burn, and Will Solace from Apollo was absently wrapping and unwrapping an Ace bandage around his wrist. The counselor from Hecate cabin, Lou Ellen something-or-other, was playing “got-your-nose” with Miranda Gardiner from Demeter, except that Lou Ellen really had magically disconnected Miranda’s nose, and Miranda was trying to get it back. Jason had hoped Thalia would show. She’d promised, after all—but she was nowhere to be seen. Chiron had told him not to worry about it. Thalia often got sidetracked fighting monsters or running quests for Artemis, and she would probably arrive soon. But still, Jason worried. Rachel Dare, the oracle, sat next to Chiron at the head of the table. She was wearing her Clarion Academy school uniform dress, which seemed a bit odd, but she smiled at Jason. Annabeth didn’t look so relaxed. She wore armor over her camp clothes, with her knife at her side and her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. As soon as Jason walked in, she fixed him with an expectant look, as if she were trying to extract information out of him by sheer willpower. “Let’s come to order,” Chiron said. “Lou Ellen, please give Miranda her nose back. Travis, if you’d kindly extinguish the flaming Ping-Pong ball, and Butch, I think twenty pencils is really too many for any human nostril. Thank you. Now, as you can see, Jason, Piper, and Leo have returned successfully…more or less. Some of you have heard parts of their story, but I will let them fill you in.” Everyone looked at Jason. He cleared his throat and began the story. Piper and Leo chimed in from time to time, filling in the details he forgot. It only took a few minutes, but it seemed like longer with everyone watching him. The silence was heavy, and for so many ADHD demigods to sit still listening for that long, Jason knew the story must have sounded pretty wild. He ended with Hera’s visit right before the meeting.

Sims” were recordings made inside the OASIS, and “Recs” were ONI recordings made in reality. Except that most kids no longer referred to it as “reality.” They called it “the Earl.” (A term derived from the initialism IRL.) And “Ito” was slang for “in the OASIS.” So Recs were recorded in the Earl, and Sims were created Ito.

The truth is, I’m far more likely to give up sleep for entertainment than I am for prayer. When I turn on Hulu late at night I don’t consciously think, “I value this episode of Parks and Rec more than my family, prayer, and my own body.” But my habits reveal and shape what I love and what I value, whether I care to admit it or not.

I helped negotiate the end to the hunger strike. I asked for better meals and time for rec. We got five extra minutes each week. I wasn't the general they thought I was--I wasn't even a leader--but I had found my role in this place: To feel the pain of others. To stick up for those who were beaten. And to try to make our lives better.

Honey, wake up. Gender and sexuality are different things. I can be bi and trans*!

I needed to risk being unapologetically authentic, even in the face of potential rejection.

However you identify, I promise to respect whatever label currently describes your identity but, please, return the favor.

but the truth is that I’m bi, and I want people to know it. I want them to know that they know someone like me.

LGBT youth still need as much support as we can provide, so I encourage each of us to share our stories, so that we can be real together.

My sexuality is something that is not completely obvious. It is something that I could hide and keep a secret.

My sexuality is a gift that allowed me to explore the bounds of my humanity and, finding answers, to move joyously beyond either/or.

My sexuality has always been on a need-to-know basis and for the larger part of my life, since I’ve come to understand who I am, I learned that most people don’t or didn’t need to know.

Jokainen ihminen sepittää tarinoita maailmasta ja itsestään. Tarinat sivuavat toisiaan, mutta sopivat yhteen vain sieltä täältä, kokonaisuus jonka ne muodostavat on pelkkä sopimus. Kun kerromme itsestämme, tarvitsemme sivuhenkilöiksi toisia ihmisiä, pakotamme heidät tekemään meistä sen mikä haluamme olla. Samalla pakotamme itsemme sellaisiksi jollaisina kuvittelemme muiden meidät haluavan.

Za trenutak je pomislio da se vratio u tridesete, sto i ne bi bilo cudno, ako se ima u vidu da u Beogradu, kao i u svim velikim gradovima u svetu, postoje takozvana "mekana mesta". Rec je o tackama u univerzumu u kojima se ukrstaju proslost, sadasnjost i buducnost, i u koje covek moze namerno ili nenamerno zalutati tako da jednom nogom bude, recimo, u viktorijanskoj Engleskoj, a drugom, recimo, u rimskom Singidunumu.

Although I’ve experienced many curious and dubious reactions when I’ve mentioned my bisexuality, every person in my life who matters has validated me. What ultimately matters, though, is how I perceive and bless my own process.

Juce sam grejao telom jednog kretena sto smo se sto puta pobili. Lezi ispred neke zgrade, ceka da ga neko pusti unutra. A niko ga ne pusta. Lose izgleda, zlokobno, i to ljudi ne vole. A dok sam ga grejao, sve mi se razjasnilo, Nezna dusa, nego ga je zivot naucio da nikom ne veruje, i da samo grize. To uopste nije do njega, njemu je tako objasnjeno. NIkad lepa rec, nikad neznost, samo kamenje i sutiranje. Pa on ne zna drugo nego da mrzi. Dok sam ga grejao, tako me je pogledao da mi je bilo lose njegove dobrote. Leti je lako, leti svaka budala moze da prezivi na ulici. Zimi je horor. Zima ne prasta. Zima sahranjuje na svakih 15 minuta. Zima cedi psa polako, i kad mu dodje sudnji cas, on mucenik i jedva ceka da poveca brojno stnje s one druge strane zivota. Hocu da vam kazem, leti nas lovite, gadjajte, ne dajte nam nista, ali zimi, zima je vreme za primirj, ako se radi o dostojanstvenom svetu. Pa koji je to fazon da se ne pustaju psi u zgrade? Sta smeta da se prespava na nekom otiracu. PSeci zivot je isto zivot , jos jedna dusa na planeti. Ako imate neko cebe koje vam ne treba, bacite ga negde, pored nekog drveta, u neki cosak, negde gde ne smeta, i neka pseca dusa ce ga naci, i to ce joj spasiti zivot, da imate preko leta s kim da se proganjate. Ja znam jednog tipa iz starog kraja, jednog drkadziju, zivi na cetvrtom spratu tog jednog solitera i nervira ga jedna kucka sto zivi tu izmedju zgrada. Ona laje izmedju pet i sest ujutru, uvek. On je cesto cuje i fantazira o tome da ima snajper i da joj prosvira mozak, samo da ucuti. I leti i zimi. I leti je ne konstatuje kad je vid, osim sto je nekag opsuje i kaze joj - Glupaco- Ali, zimi, zimi je pusa u zgradu i od kad se odselila ona komsinica sto je natovila jednom kao prase, on joj i hranu donosi. Covek drkadzija, ali kad dodje do Zenevske konvencije, nemam mu ravnog, postuje neprijatelja kao svog rodjenog. A nije strasno ni ako se ostave ostaci od rucka negde. Ako vam se ne svidja bas pored vase kuce, odnesite ih negde dalje, negde gde nema nicije kuce, kad krenete ko zna na koje toplo mesto na koje vec idete. Ostavite, pojesce neko i zato ce preziveti. A ako nekoga spasete sa ulice ove zime, ako ga primite u kucu, ako pocne da zivi sa vama, redefinisace vam se pojmovi zahvalnosti i odanosti. Shvaticete da za ljubav nisu potrebne reci, da su dovoljni pogledi, pokreti, uzdasi ili obicno njuskanje. Uzmite nekog smrznutog psa u kucu, bar dok ne prodje zima, da vam pomogne da se snadjete u ovom bezdusnom svetu.

Maybe that’s too big of a question. Let’s back up. May Ling has been with you for fourteen months now? What have you done, in the time she’s been with you, to connect her to her Chinese culture?” “Well.” Another pause, a very long one this time. Mr. Richardson willed Mrs. McCullough to say something, anything. “Pearl of the Orient is one of our very favorite restaurants. We try to take her there once a month. I think it’s good for her to hear some Chinese, to get it into her ears. To grow up feeling this is natural. And of course I’m sure she’ll love the food once she’s older.” Yawning silence in the courtroom. Mrs. McCullough felt the need to fill it. “Perhaps we could take a Chinese cooking class at the rec center and learn together. When she’s older.” Ed Lim said nothing, and Mrs. McCullough prattled nervously on. “We try to be very sensitive to these issues wherever we can.” Inspiration arrived. “Like for her first birthday, we wanted to get her a teddy bear. One she could keep as an heirloom. There was a brown bear, a polar bear, and a panda, and we thought about it and decided on the panda. We thought perhaps she’d feel more of a connection to it.

When I tell people I am bisexual, I get asked certain questions. The one I am most often asked is, “How can you be attracted to more than one gender?” I reply, “How can you only be attracted to one gender?” The response to that question is “That is who I am.” Exactly! Me being attracted to more than one gender is who I am.

Part of what kept him standing in the restive group of men awaiting authorization to enter the airport was a kind of paralysis that resulted from Sylvanshine’s reflecting on the logistics of getting to the Peoria 047 REC—the issue of whether the REC sent a van for transfers or whether Sylvanshine would have to take a cab from the little airport had not been conclusively resolved—and then how to arrive and check in and where to store his three bags while he checked in and filled out his arrival and Post-code payroll and withholding forms and orientational materials then somehow get directions and proceed to the apartment that Systems had rented for him at government rates and get there in time to find someplace to eat that was either in walking distance or would require getting another cab—except the telephone in the alleged apartment wasn’t connected yet and he considered the prospects of being able to hail a cab from outside an apartment complex were at best iffy, and if he told the original cab he’d taken to the apartment to wait for him, there would be difficulties because how exactly would he reassure the cabbie that he really was coming right back out after dropping his bags and doing a quick spot check of the apartment’s condition and suitability instead of it being a ruse designed to defraud the driver of his fare, Sylvanshine ducking out the back of the Angler’s Cove apartment complex or even conceivably barricading himself in the apartment and not responding to the driver’s knock, or his ring if the apartment had a doorbell, which his and Reynolds’s current apartment in Martinsburg most assuredly did not, or the driver’s queries/threats through the apartment door, a scam that resided in Claude Sylvanshine’s awareness only because a number of independent Philadelphia commercial carriage operators had proposed heavy Schedule C losses under the proviso ‘Losses Through Theft of Service’ and detailed this type of scam as prevalent on the poorly typed or sometimes even handwritten attachments required to explain unusual or specific C-deductions like this, whereas were Sylvanshine to pay the fare and the tip and perhaps even a certain amount in advance on account so as to help assure the driver of his honorable intentions re the second leg of the sojourn there was no tangible guarantee that the average taxi driver—a cynical and ethically marginal species, hustlers, as even their smudged returns’ very low tip-income-vs.-number-of-fares-in-an-average-shift ratios in Philly had indicated—wouldn’t simply speed away with Sylvanshine’s money, creating enormous hassles in terms of filling out the internal forms for getting a percentage of his travel per diem reimbursed and also leaving Sylvanshine alone, famished (he was unable to eat before travel), phoneless, devoid of Reynolds’s counsel and logistical savvy in the sterile new unfurnished apartment, his stomach roiling in on itself in such a way that it would be all Sylvanshine could do to unpack in any kind of half-organized fashion and get to sleep on the nylon travel pallet on the unfinished floor in the possible presence of exotic Midwest bugs, to say nothing of putting in the hour of CPA exam review he’d promised himself this morning when he’d overslept slightly and then encountered last-minute packing problems that had canceled out the firmly scheduled hour of morning CPA review before one of the unmarked Systems vans arrived to take him and his bags out through Harpers Ferry and Ball’s Bluff to the airport, to say even less about any kind of systematic organization and mastery of the voluminous Post, Duty, Personnel, and Systems Protocols materials he should be receiving promptly after check-in and forms processing at the Post, which any reasonable Personnel Director would expect a new examiner to have thoroughly internalized before reporting for the first actual day interacting with REC examiners, and which there was no way in any real world that Sylvanshine could expect

The Big House Brought to you by Pete the Palikos This four-storey sky-blue Victorian is a bona fide gem. The vast veranda offers ample space for pinochle players and convalescents alike. The basement is currently set up for strawberry-jam storage, but can also be used to hide the occasional demigod driven insane by the Labyrinth. The ground-floor living quarters, camp infirmary and combination rec room / meeting room are wheelchair accessible, as is a specially designed bronze-lined office. The rooms of the top floors stand ready to welcome overnight guests, while the attic, now free of its resident desiccated mummy, provides the perfect catch-all for camper discards and memorabilia.

Sillä sellaista elämä on. On asioita jotka ovat tärkeitä hetken ja se, etteivät ne ole sitä enää myöhemmin, ei tarkoita että ne olisivat kokonaisuuden kannalta merkityksettömiä. Ja sitten on toisia asioita, niitä jotka ovat tärkeitä aina. Ja lopulta on asioita, joita ei edes ole muualla kuin psykologisessa todellisuudessa ja jotka silti ovat tärkeitä, todellisia asioita. Jopa enemmän kuin se mikä on näkyvää.

My willingness to sacrifice much-needed rest and my prioritizing amusement or work over the basic needs of my body and the people around me (with whom I'm far more likely to be short-tempered after a night of little sleep) reveal that these good things—entertainment and work—have taken a place of ascendancy in my life. In the nitty-gritty of my daily life, repentance for idolatry may look as pedestrian as shutting off my email an hour earlier or resisting that alluring clickbait to go to bed. The truth is, I'm far more likely to give up sleep for entertainment that I am for prayer. When I turn on Hulu late at night I don't consciously think, "I value this episode of Parks and Rec more than my family, prayer, and my own body," But my habits reveal and shape what I love and what I value, whether I care to admit it or not.

U nas se mnogo ljudi zale na ,,sredinu",i ne bez razloga,ali se zale toliki i tako mnogo i cesto,da je rec ,,sredina" pocela da gubi svoj smisao i da postaje opsti razlog svakoj nezgodi pojedinca, otprilike kao rec ,,satana" u srednjem veku.

Back in the 1990s, research that looked at how ADHD affected teenagers at work concluded that they did pretty much as well as other teenagers. Maybe, it seemed, the symptoms interfered mainly in educational settings and we didn’t need to worry so much about jobs. We now know that’s not true. As the last quote above attests, ADHD can hurt you even more at work than it has at school. The problem with those 15-year-old studies is that they failed to take into account the types of jobs adolescents usually hold: unskilled, part time, and temporary. Working at a local rec center, fast-food joint, or car wash doesn’t demand a lot of attention, thought, or persistence. Maybe ADHD really wouldn’t interfere much.

This is Ugly,” said Geung. “He’s a different animal. He’s an animal called a dog. People call him a dumb animal because he can’t speak and because he licks his arse.” More laughter. “But he can rec . . . recognize hundreds of different scents and he can run fast. So in many ways, he’s better than us. People call me and Tukta dumb animals too. We speak and we don’t lick our arses, but most people think they’re better than us. They can be unkind. Our bodies are clumsy and we won’t live very long and our brains work more slowly than yours. We can’t be doctors and we can’t be prime ministers, but we work hard and we’re kind and funny and we say what we believe. So, my wish on this day, this happiest day of my life, is that we stop thinking we’re better than other animals and start to believe that we all con . . . contribute something different and wonderful to our planet. The tiger teaches us d-d-dignity and how to control our power. The pig gives us compost that grows our vegetables. The lizard eats mosquitoes that give us dengue fever. The fish cleans our rivers and gives up its life to feed our children. If I can have one one one . . . wish this day, it is that we all stop comparing the size of our brains and learn to see the size of each other’s hearts.” Even the evening cicadas had fallen silent.

At its most intense, the admissions process didn’t force kids to be Lisa Simpson; it turned them into Eddie Haskell. (“You look lovely in that new dress, Ms. Admissions Counselor.”) It guaranteed that teenagers would pursue life with a single ulterior motive, while pretending they weren’t. It coated their every undertaking in a thin lacquer of insincerity. Befriending people in hopes of a good rec letter; serving the community to advertise your big heart; studying hard just to puff up the GPA and climb the greasy poll of class rank—nothing was done for its own sake. Do good; do well; but make sure you can prove it on a college app. So

Edward gets funky in Beverly Mitchell's (and Jessica Biel's) garage rec room by painting the walls gray, building room screens that are painted gray and chartreuse, upholstering thrift store and existing furniture... Hildi brings a little refinement to George and Jeff Stolt'z bachelor pad living room... (Season 3, Episode 52)

His own first clue that Flaharty was involved had come when he’d found himself staring down the sights of his Barrett REC-7 at the Irishman, oily smoke billowing up into the Malian sky, small-arms fire crackling through the early morning dawn. Harry’s team had been in-country in covert support of the Touré government, tasked with destroying a convoy of weapons on their way to Anṣār ad-Dīn. Flaharty’s weapons, as it turned out. Unfortunate

In the beginning, some brothers could sea the sea if they stood on their sink and looked through their window. In the rec yard, I found that if I lay down on my stomach in the corner, I could tear away a tiny piece of green tarp covering the fence and steal glimpses of a turquoise sea. I told my brothers and soon many of us would lie down and spend our recreation time looking at the sea through that small secret window. Eventually the guards noticed the hole. "Why can I look at the sea?" I asked the watch commander when he caught me. "It's for your own safety and security," he said through an interpreter. I suspected he thought Osama bin Laden might land on the beach one day with an al Qaeda army and break us all out. America was supposed to be a smart country, but the things we believed made us question this.

The Inaugural Heroes Against Heroin Spaghetti Banquet was to be held on New Year's Day in the rec center, the first town event of the new year. It was forty-five dollars a ticket, not exactly cheap, and people weren't really sure what kind of event it was--Was it supposed to be fancy or casual? How do you dress for a spaghetti dinner? Would there be food to eat besides spaghetti?

Every bedroom was empty except for the smell of gasoline and a small crackling fire set directly in the middle of each bed, as if a demented Girl Scout had been camping there. By the time she checked the living room, the family room, the rec room, and the kitchen, the smoke had begun to spread, and she ran outside at last to hear the sirens, alerted by their home security system, already approaching.

That sexuality and gender are different is a simple fact and confusing to a wide swath of the population.

Significant others are like airplane Wi-Fi.” I bit my lips and looked at Paloma expectantly. “You don’t need airplane Wi-Fi. You can read a book. Talk to people. Draw. But airplane Wi-Fi can be fun—you can watch a movie. Be on your phone. But if you’re going to have Wi-Fi, it has to be consistent. Because if it’s spotty, if it just stops and starts and freezes in the middle of binge- watching Parks and Rec, that’s maddening. It’s crazy-making. Better no airplane Wi-Fi than bad airplane Wi-Fi.

I hope that what I do here as a pastor makes a difference in the lives of bi kids in this community who are wrestling with who they are.

I can assure you that you won’t find a single mention of Jesus Christ denouncing being gay in the New Testament. But you will find him teaching love, compassion, charity, peace and many other positive equality-based teachings.

But who are we to assume someone is straight or gay?

That’s love, my love, entwining us upon the operating table, Siamese twins joined at the groin, the despair of the hovering surgeon.

Lake Mungo, Savageland, The Taking of Deborah Logan, Trollhunter, REC, The Blair Witch Project, the Hell House LLC movies, Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum, Cloverfield, Creep I and II, The Poughkeepsie Tapes, Afflicted… Okay, I’ll stop now.

Cookery books,’ I will give it here for the benefit of gourmands generally. It is very simple. ‘Rec, Take one pound of flour (if musty, the better), one pound (a pint) of water, and one pound of salaratus. Mix to the consistency of putty and bake quickly in a very hot oven, so that the outside shall be burnt to a coal and

Well, good. I figured you were, but…” He turned down our street and glanced at me. “Wait, there’s another guy, isn’t there?” He grinned. “Ugh, Dad. I’m not talking boys with you.” “What’s his name?” I feigned a scowl. “Does he go to Sutton?” I rolled my eyes. “Where’d you meet?” A smile cracked. We pulled into the driveway. “What’s he do?” I sighed then rattled off his answers. “Cade. He’s a therapy dog handler who volunteers at the hospital where I did my internship, and he works at the university rec center.” Dad let out a low, long whistle. “I approve.” I rolled my eyes again. “If you tell Mom, I’ll deny everything and tell her I’ve started dating girls.” “Your life choices don’t change how I feel about you, though your mom may be slow to come around.” “I’m not a lesbian, Dad.” “I’d love you even if you were.” “Dad.” I covered my face with my hands. “This conversation is so over.” He chuckled. “C’mon, short stack. Later, you can show me a picture of this young man or special lady in your life, that’s your choice.” I groaned. “That was meant to deter this conversation.” With another laugh, he hopped out, grabbed my suitcase from the back and unlocked the front door.

Toward the end of the birthday celebration, there was a distinctive pop! from the rec room. We all twisted around. I prayed the rune worked on the house, because there was definitely a god here. Apollo strolled into the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was that his eyes were blue and not that creepy white. “How is my birthday girl?” For some reason, I blushed to the roots of my hair. “Doing good, grandpa.” He smirked as he slid into the seat beside me, easily prying the knife from Deacon’s fingers. “I do not look nearly old enough to be what I am to you.” That was true. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, which made it all the freakier. “So when were you going to tell me that you spawned me?” “I did not spawn you. I spawned a demigod centuries ago who eventually spawned your mother.” “Can you guys stop saying ‘spawn’?” asked Luke. Apollo shrugged as he carved off an edge of the cake. He handed the knife back to an oddly subdued Deacon. “I did not find it necessary to tell you. It is not like I am going to be bouncing little Alex babies on my knee.” The soda caught in my throat, and I almost spit it back up. Someone chuckled, and it sounded like Luke. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

the rain often enough. But those sprinkler heads were a peril. Trip over one and you could wind up wrecking an essential part of your anatomy. Within seconds of the sprinkler’s activation, three team members had whipped out their cell phones and were talking to three different members of the town’s Parks & Rec Commission who offered three distinct explanations for the malfunction. The team decided the most credible story came from the guy in charge of field maintenance. The sprinklers were on a timer, he’d explained, but Lawton

uncollectible *(Net AR + Allowance) • Change in expense due to change in bad debt assumptions is the actual balance in Allowance minus expected balance 2008 2007 Net Acct Rec 12,930 7,826 Allow DA 1,021 220 Gross Acct Rec 13,951 8,046 Allow/Gross AR 7.3% 2.7% Expect Allow @ 2.7% 377 Expect Allow @ 7.3% 1,021 Difference in Bad Debt Exp.644K N O W L E D G E F O R A C T I O N

U pregovorima se nikada ne govori vise od onoga sto se mora.Ako nemas sta da kazes,onda prepustis rec protivniku. Pre ili kasnije reci ce previse.

In our view, when women fight for the wage for domes­tic work, they are also fight­ing against this work, as domes­tic work can con­tinue as such so long as and when it is not paid. It is like slav­ery. The demand for a domes­tic wage denat­u­ral­ized female slav­ery. Thus, the wage is not the ulti­mate goal, but an instru­ment, a strat­egy, to achieve a change in the power rela­tions between women and cap­i­tal. The aim of our strug­gle was to con­vert exploita­tive slave labor that was nat­u­ral­ized because of its unpaid char­ac­ter into socially rec­og­nized work; it was to sub­vert a sex­ual divi­sion of labor based on the power of the mas­cu­line wage to com­mand the repro­duc­tive labor of women, which in Cal­iban and the Witch I call “the patri­archy of the wage.” At the same time, we pro­posed to move beyond all of the blame gen­er­ated by the fact that it was always con­sid­ered as a female oblig­a­tion, as a female vocation.

I will never forget you; for as long as I live.

To cry for yourself because someone loves you..I think that’s a form of happiness…

In the end, people will only shed tears for themselves... even if it seems like they're crying for someone else, people only cry because they imagine the pain that someone else is feeling

Rekao sam ti da pomislim na Veroniku svaki put kad bacim pogled na tu planetu, jer "Venera" je stara rec za ljubav.

Within a year of O'Neilrs speech, Alcoa's profits would hit a rec- ord high.

That does not mean your heart has moved on.” He looks uneasy, his fingers twitching against mine as we hold hands, as if he wants to clutch me tighter. I shake my head. “There’s nothing between me and I’rec. Our entire relationship was messy. Do you know I was sent away from the Icehome tribe? I was young and I flirted with all the single guys…and they flirted back. The attention was so nice. God. For the first time, I felt like the center of the universe. But then they also got jealous of each other and started fights, and so I was sent away because they decided that guys that hunt and contribute were worth keeping and I wasn’t.

Eat,” I tell her again as we walk. I shove the large chunk of jerky under her nose. “You do not eat enough.” “Oh my god, I’rec, quit trying to stuff me full of food. We had lunch just a short time ago.” She makes a face at me, crossing her eyes. “I’m going to become as round as a balloon if you keep stuffing me full of food.” “I should like that,” I tell her. “More of you to sit upon my face so I can feast.

estas son las películas: El exorcista (con sus cuatro precuelas y continuaciones), El exorcismo de Emily Rose, El último exorcismo, The Devil Inside Me, Expediente Warren: The Conjuring, Constantine, El rito, REC 2, La morada del miedo (y su antecesora, Terror en Amityville), Paranormal Activity y sus continuaciones, Posesión infernal I y II, Exorcismo… Le explico someramente por qué otros títulos como Session 9, La leyenda de la casa del infierno, Pesadilla diabólica y El resplandor también encajan en esta sección.

Jefferson made no consistent effort to abolish slavery ... It would be nice if Jefferson were the proto-abolitionist that the memorial and the park service brochure pretend he was ... his memorial needs to be more complex than it is ... the National Park Service could supply the contexts missing from the juxtaposed questions on its panels. Then visitors could see Jefferson as a man who not only envisioned but also betrayed the hopes of mankind.

He was probably thinking with the head of his weiner instead of the head of his brain...men do that it's disgusting

Queer, in all senses of the word, is probably the best word to describe me. Queer is political. Queer is something “off the norm.” Queer is sexual and gender minorities. Queer rejects traditional sexual and gender identities. Queer is outside the bounds of normal society. Queer is breaking the rules for sex and gender. One can be queer and bi. For that matter, one can be queer and straight.

I remember eventually getting a second TV for our rec room downstairs and the neighbors being awestruck by our wealth and decadence.

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It’s not easy being an out bi pastor in rural Missouri. It has many challenges, and can be lonely and isolating. But if just one person sees from my example that even a pastor can be bisexual and a faithful Christian and that it’s possible to own both of these identities at once then it’s all worth it.

Hopefully this inspires someone to live a more authentic life as well, or at least not to want to kill him or herself for being different.

So, how do we make things better? Given so many obstacles, both internal and external, discussed above, how can a bisexual person come to a positive bisexual identity? Understand the social dynamics of oppression and stereotyping. Get support and validation from others. Join a support group. Subscribe to an email list. Attend a conference. Read books and blogs about bisexuality. Get a good bi-affirming therapist. Find a friend (or two or twenty) to talk to. Silence kills. I encourage bisexual people to come out as bisexual to the maximum extent that you can do so safely. Life in the closet takes an enormous toll on our emotional well-being. Bisexuals must remember that neither bisexuals nor gays and lesbians created heterosexism and that as bisexuals we are its victims as well as potential beneficiaries. Although we must be aware that we, as bisexuals, may—because of the gender/sex of our partner compared to our own gender/sex at a given point in our lives—be accorded privileges that are denied to gays, lesbians and to transgender people of any orientation, this simply calls for us to make thoughtful decisions about how to live our lives. We did not create the inequities, and we must not feel guilty for who we are; we need only be responsible for our actions.

TechNICIAN MER—MERRrrrrrrrill,” the Mall says. “Thank you for visiting Me! It is STROngly rec—” “Abort,” Rich gets out, clutching at his head. “-COMMENDED THAT YOU UNDERGO DECONTAMINATION PROCEDURES PRIOR TO RE-ENTRANCE TO THE—” “Decline procedure!” “MICHIGAN FLEET. YOU ARE ADVISED THAT—” “Decline procedure, effective immediately, authorization: I’m a fucking tech, I’ll do it myself!” “...Promise?” the Mall asks.

That does sound pretty nice.” I manage a half-assed, heartbroken grin. “What genre do you like?” He winks at me. “Dark romance where the heroine gets fucked by the psychopaths.” I burst out laughing and he cracks a wide smile too. “Me too. I’ll give you recs if you give me yours.” “Deal.

I’ve been in a hut of my own for years now, and I can take care of myself. If I’rec decides we’re just going to fuck to get this out of our systems and then he’ll return to Tia, well, then it is what it is. As long as we’re both on the same page, I’ll be fine with whatever is decided.

Will I ever stop getting butterflies when he calls me Princess?  Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” streams through the speakers as I make my way into the lobby of the Rec Center and my hips throw a little wiggle in at the beat.

MY FISTS HIT the bag in the rec room with a satisfying whap, the impact sending shock waves up my forearms, toward my shoulders, through my chest. I twisted and gave the bag a couple of deep hooks to the side, bounced back and punched my imaginary foe’s face square- on. It was pretty easy to lose myself in the workout. I had plenty of sparring partners to imagine. I was knocking Nigel upside the head for arresting my brother. I was giving Linebacker a sucker punch to the gut for chastising me like a child. I was slamming my fist into Burns’s kidneys, imagining the man doubling over, sinking to the mat as the pain ripped through him.

Shane looked around the rec room, trying not to linger on the Venus de Mildew and thought, The Fortunato taste in decorating. Probably causes genetic damage. Which would explain a lot about the family.

Hän pitää ajatukset poissa niin kuin ne on pidettävä poissa yöllä, kaikenlaiset murheet ja ratkaisemattomat ongelmat, ja ajateltava vasta aamulla, koska yölliset ajatukset ovat masentuneen ajatuksia vaikkei olisi masentunut.

was once caught in a downpour on my way into a prison. As I waited to pass through a set of doors, I groused to an inmate on work duty who was mopping the hallway that even my socks were soaked. “They cancel outdoor rec in storms,” the man said to me with a soft smile. “I haven’t been in a rainstorm in eighteen years.”)

Indeed, God intended, by this way of rec onciling poor sinners to himself, to make work for angels and saints to admire the mystery of his wisdom, power, and love therein, to everlasting.

Although the Rec was quite large, it didn’t take me long to find Murray. He was doing the only thing there that required no physical activity at all: soaking in the hot tub in the pool room. If that wasn’t lazy enough, he also had a sandwich, two corn dogs, a Coke, and a bag of Nefarious’s Cheetos within arm’s reach.

The trail continues in a southerly direction, climbing below Peak 3, Peak 4, and Peak 5 before reaching a seasonal stream at mile 7.6 (12,320). Continue climbing until you reach the crest of the Tenmile Range at mile 8.0 (12,495). The views on a clear day are magnificent. Along the way up, Lake Dillon and the town of Dillon are visible to the north, Breckenridge sits stately to the east, and Copper Mountain lies 2,500 feet below to the west. After topping out, follow the ridge, passing just west of Peak 6. Descending south, reach a seasonal spring at mile 9.0 (12,176). Continue on a steep descent to reach tree line at mile 9.9 (11,720). The trail then makes a sharp right turn where the Wheeler Trail diverges south at mile 10.4 (11,249). Traverse downhill to the northwest, crossing several small seasonal streams before reaching the valley floor and joining a paved rec path. Continue straight, crossing a bridge over Tenmile Creek at mile 12.4 (9,767). Continue 50 yards more alongside the Copper Far East Parking Lot and trail-head where the trail diverges left onto dirt single-track. There is good access to water and possible campsites before reaching CO Hwy 91, where parking is prohibited, and the end of Segment 7 at mile 12.8 (9,820). Ahead, there is no camping within the first 4 miles of Segment 8 while on Copper Mountain Resort property.

TRAILHEAD/ACCESS POINTS Trailhead access to The Colorado Trail in this area is a bit unusual. Parking is prohibited on the wide shoulders of CO Hwy 91 where Segment 8 begins. Nevertheless, there are convenient parking areas. Copper Far East Lot: This large parking area is adjacent to Segment 7, mile 12.4, a nearly flat, 0.4-mile trail walk from the beginning of Segment 8. Drive west from Denver on I-70 for 80 miles to exit 195 (Copper Mountain/Leadville/CO Hwy 91). Drive beyond the stoplight and entrance to Copper (on the right) and, less than a half mile farther, turn left into the large Copper Far East Parking Lot where there are bathrooms, though at times they are locked. Mid-lot on the east edge, find the CT (and CDT) trailhead with sign. To reach the start of CT Segment 8, beyond the trailhead sign and paved rec path, follow the CT south 0.4 mile to where it crosses CO Hwy 91. Segment 8 begins on the west side of the highway. Use caution when crossing the highway; traffic comes very fast from both directions.

Minä etsin hänet ja jos en löydä, minulla on valo jonka hän heijasti.

Enjoy your youth, my dear. They call this…” she waved her hand around the rec room of the center, “your golden years.” She snorted. “In my opinion, they’re silver at best. But isn’t silver just a fancy word for gray before it fades to black?

Tiff’s allowing her kids the luxury of watching television brought to mind a dinner Pete, the kids, and I went to with a few other couples and their kids. We were at a restaurant where the service was friendly but slow, and after five minutes, all of our kids were growing restless. My husband and I reached for our iPhones, because years earlier we’d decided (or at least accepted) that we’d let our children play on screens while they waited for food in restaurants. Another couple, for reasons of civility or table manners or brain development, had a no-screens-at-the-table policy in effect, so instead they reached for the piles of toys they’d carried with them, in big tote bags brimming with markers and Play-Doh and Disney figurines. They poured these nondigital diversions onto the table, turning the place settings into an elevated rec room. Another couple at the table disapproved of both of these choices. They wanted their children to sit nicely and participate in the conversation. Mostly this meant their kids flopped around and played with the saltshakers and kicked each other’s knees. The one childless couple at the table grimaced at all of us. I could see them silently interrogating each other, trying to understand how it was possible that all six of their friends were such ineffectual parents. Everyone was tense and unhappy. Everyone felt watched and judged. Everyone was wondering who was doing it the right way. But worst of all, worse than the atmosphere of guardedness and anxiety, was the fact that no one was acknowledging any of it. This, it turns out, is the most important rule of parenting as a competitive sport: Nobody ever, no matter what, admits to competing. We smile and nod and hold our judgments until we get home from the restaurant. We say things like, “There’s no single right way.” We say these things as we sip our drinks, and only when we get home do we say to our partner or the nearest person who will listen, “What the fuck are they doing with those kids?” Nothing is acknowledged. Nothing is discussed. And on and on the parenting game goes; it’s hard to win while pretending not to play.

And then Paige suggests that they all watch a movie or two in the rec room, and Violet says that she’ll probably go back to the art studio and keep working on her sketches, and Paige exchanges a glance with Kendra that clearly tells Kendra to keep an eye out for Violet in the studio when she sneaks out to see Luigi, and Violet really wants to say that as far as she’s concerned, Kendra and Luigi could be lying on the main lawn snogging each other’s faces off and she, Violet, would just step over them and keep going, because she couldn’t care less about the mess that anyone else is making of their lives right now.

I can’t read his expression, but his body language looks distinctly hangdog. Busted, as Paige would say. On the terrace above, Paige, Leonardo, Evan, and Kelly are spilling out from the rec room, looking down at the scene below. Paige squeals as Catia strides across to Luigi and slaps him so hard across the face that we all wince at the sound. “Ma sei scemo!” she yells. “Cretino, idiota, scemo! Cosa cazzo avevi in mente?” Swinging around, she confronts Kendra. “And you!” she shrieks. “Stupid little girl! What the hell were you thinking, sneaking out at night to see a married man?” I gasp. So does almost everyone else: I hear Paige squeal again in surprise. I nip up the steps and onto the terrace to join the rest of the group; you want company in these moments, someone to turn to when you need to share the shock.

And he repaired the Bifröst,” Dean said from behind me, sounding proud. Like stern-father proud, not parks and rec participation trophy proud. It was a reserved pride rather than the overexuberant cheerleader.

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When a verb becomes a noun in English, if it has two syllables, something happens very quietly, so quietly that I have never known anyone who noticed it by themselves. The accent shifts backward. It’s why someone who re-BELS is a REB-el, whose crimes you can re-CORD and thereby leave them on REC-ord for all to see. It’s why your tooth may be im-PACT-ed and have a negative IM-pact on your sense of well-being.

Jole put his hand on her shoulder, making her startle and look up at him. “I’m proud of you, Kyr,” he said. “I don’t say that enough. Go find your mess and relax. It’s your rec rotation.

I want to shut my eyes. I want to close her out and pretend she’s not right here beside me—because this moment, it’s going to set me back again. Just the sight of her rips open old wounds that I felt would never heal in the first place. I’m having flashbacks of Nora poking me in the cheek to get me to smile. Nora’s nervous wide eyes as she sneaks with me into our college rec center after hours to skinny dip in the pool. Nora’s soft smile as she sits beside me in class frantically writing notes and I draw an invisible heart over and over on the top of her thigh.