ALPHABETICAL LIST OF BABY NAMES

Click Here (to find out how i survived seventh grade)

Imagine if all your personal thoughts about crushes, fears, enemies, and even kissing practice ended up on the internet for everyone to read! That's what happens to Erin Swift when her secret blog lands on the school Web site. As if navigating the treacherous waters of seventh grade weren't enough! Writing with warm, knowing humor, first-time novelist Denise Vega perfectly captures life from a seventh grade girl's point of view.

Imagine if all your personal thoughts about crushes, fears, enemies, and even kissing practice ended up on the internet for everyone to read! That's what happens to Erin Swift when her secret blog lands on the school Web site. As if navigating the treacherous waters of seventh grade weren't enough! Writing with warm, knowing humor, first-time novelist Denise Vega perfectly captures life from a seventh grade girl's point of view.

I have been thinking a lot recently about sexuality. Specifically on what defines me.

The usual comments given to me by my friends tend to follow along the lines of ’Just be yourself ... ‘ and this sometimes do not actually tell me what I need to know. There are times I feel I know myself, my wants and needs. But more importantly, there are times I need to figure out how I perceive myself.

For starters, I think I am a woman. I mean, I think I look like one and hope I feel like one too. The absence of women role models in my life does not help me solve the conundrum of trying to figure out whether I am the normal approximation of being a woman. For example, I am surrounded by women all the time. None of which fits with the idea of what a woman is ‘all about’ in my head.

My Ex still thinks of me as a guy. She even refers to me, in more instances than usual, as one. This is even when she has known me longer as a woman than as a man. This is something I am actually powerless to alter as when I first met her, that was the guise I adopted. She has often landed me in heaps of explanations when faced with mutual friends where when commented on my looks, she simply says ‘You know what? She used to be a guy.’ I often get into arguments with her over this. So much so that I now rarely meet any of her friends.

Then there is that argument that goes along the lines of childbearing. You know the one that basically says that you’re not a woman unless you have the ability to reproduce and/or have gone through the pain of childbirth. I usually counter the former by saying that it takes two to reproduce. As for the latter, I usually posit my contention that if my weeks of screaming in pain of all the surgeries endured does not count as ‘pain’ in their eyes, then I would concede the argument.

There is a painting by my mum which hangs in my room back in Kuala Lumpur. I think she painted it before I was even born and I have since gone to sleep under in until the day I left for England. It’s a painting of a young nun cradling a baby. A contradiction in itself, considering my Roman-Catholic upbringing. That painting for some reason epitomises my idea of womanhood. The attributes of the nun coupled with the instinct possessed towards the baby. Somehow, the actual manifestation of that painting is something I have yet to encounter in reality.

The lack of role models has sometimes forced me to mimic attributes displayed by the womenfolk around me. Upon seeing the way my colleagues and peers walk and talk, I sometimes try to follow suit. In other words, I can sometimes follow trends or even feign interest in the topics of the day. In truth, I have no idea.

I had thought that my exposure to the working world would give me some pointers. Having worked in ‘closed’ environments for so long, I was bemused to find that even in my current, very public job, I still cannot tell the difference between the men and womenfolk in my workplace. They just seem so similar. Well, apart from the physicalities displayed and the occasional pregnancies. Other than that, the women behave and interact almost exactly as the men. The funny thing is, I know firsthand the difference the hormones give. I have experienced the power and aggression of testosterone and the euphoric feeling of the senses give by oestrogens. Somehow, I don’t see the distinction just as easily around me.

Then of course, there is the more apparent distinction manifested by the general public. From the wannabe IT-Girls to the TrolleyGrans. Physicalities aside, I suspect that they are all identical in terms of their psychological make-up. After all, I think, just like HLA Hart’s empirical Martian in his Positivistic treatise, these women merely represent the development of womanhood, rather than its different individual representation.

In truth, I will probably never find out. All I know is that I cry at sad movies, lament at lost loves, dance along with old songs and weep with my inability to buy as many shoes and handbags my heart so desires.

Then, there is the question of sexuality.

It’s no secret that I prefer women. I have done so since the day I was born. I do however sometimes wish for the security of a dashing prince. I know for sure, that if afforded the opportunity for physical intimacy, I will surely back down. Issues of body image aside, I know that I love the sensualness that felinity affords rather than the sheer brutality of masculinity. I may harp on about fancying Mr Selleck, Mr Reeve and Mr Peck, but I will never even contemplate the idea of sleeping with their real-life approximations. I short, I many love the idea of sex, but I will never allow it to happen me. Actually, I know this to be common as questions of sexual preference are quite distinct from the question of gender.

I suppose I will never find the answer I seek. I may never answer the question as to what I am. All I can probably still do is to go

The other day, someone gave me this thing about my birthday, and while I'm always into these kind of things, it's more for fun than anything else so I don't really take it seriously. However, this one comes so close to the person that I am, that it gave me a chill. While I obviously don't think it's a birthday alone that defines a person, this was very, very interesting to me, being that the resemblance was so remarkably uncanny.

July 1st: The Day of Emancipation

July 1 people tend to be highly sensitive, capable and adaptable, as well as emotionally open. Though many born on this day are also long-suffering, and very prone to emotional pain, they generally win out in their struggle against dominance, injustice or oppression of any type.

July 1 women feel keenly the conflict between the workplace and motherhood or the demands of a career vs. keeping a home; therefore, they are often taken up with issues surrounding gender in modern society. July 1 men have an unusual sensitivity and empathy for women, and for their own feminine side.

July 1 people of both sexes are often their own worst enemy in that depression can be a constant and unwelcome companion in their lives. Worries regarding inferiority at work or failure at home can dog them even when they are most successful. Those born on this day are likely to display ambivalent feelings toward individuals and social groups with whom they are most closely bound, and ultimately, toward themselves. On the positive side, July 1 people are hardly ones to follow blindly. No matter how commited they are to an endeavor, cause, or ideology, they remain flexible enough to see another point of view or way of doing things. July 1 people seek profundity and are quickly put off by simplistic answers and shallow thought.

July 1 people are indeed deep themselves-- complex personalities who keep a whole world of strictly personal feelings inside them. On the other hand, they have a highly social side which generally manifests in acts of service and unselfish contributions to society. July 1 people tend to be givers rather than takers. Because of their receptive and empathic tendencies, they are often sought out as understanding and helpful friends. Yet, when they are in one of their tormentented states they are of little constructive use for anyone.

Those born on this day have their own particular brand of emotional self-torture. It seems that they must bring up very disturbing feelings and work them out before they can advance in their personal development. The daner is that they will get locked into negative patterns. Often a chance happening or even a shock is needed to reorient them, followed by a sudden realization of their behavior and subsequent resolve to improve their situation. Here a more highly evolved July 1 emerges as an aggressive and positive personality willing and ready to function in the world, and capable of integrating a successful social, family and love life. Sometimes those born on this day become remarkably extroverted once they come out of their shell, and actively seek out life's pleasures. Such revels are a kind of lifelong celebration of emancipation.

Numbers and Planets

Those born on the 1st of the month are ruled by the number 1 and by the Sun. People born on the 1st like to be first. Those ruled by the number 1 are typically individual, highly opinionated, and eager to rise to the top. Because July 1 people are a bit passive in expressing themselves, they will gain a positive boost from a Sun-Moon connection. The Sun sympolizes strong creative energy and fire, which is best kept flowing steadily rather than allowed to sporadically flare out of control.

Tarot

The 1st card of the Major Arcana is The Magician, who symbolizes intellect, communication, information, as well as magic. Over his head is an infinity symbol, which in some Tarot decks takes the form of a hat, in others a halo. Many interpretations mayb be drawn, one of which is that the Magician recognizes the cyclical and unending nature of life and is empowered by this understanding. The positive traits suggested by this first card include diplomatic skill and shrewdness but, negatively, lack of scruples and opportunism. The choice rests with the July 1 person whether to embrace superficiality and illusion, or pursue more profound goals.

Health

July 1 people are not overly comfortable with their bodies. Though they are graceful, and may enjoy many forms of movement, they periodically swing from acive sexual expression to total abstinence. Depression is probably the greatest single health danger to July 1 people and at some point in their lives they may find it helpful to seek some form of counseling. Those born on this day need a friend, religious counselor or therapist to whom, if only occasionally, they can pour out their heart. The eating habits of July 1 people are often unusual or even peculiar. By alternately indulging and denying

KARLOFF & LUGOSI HORROR CLASSICS - DVD Movie

Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi are the magic names when it comes to a bygone era of horror, and quite a bit of that magic is still afoot in Karloff & Lugosi Horror Classics, a two-disc, four-film set that gathers some of their lower-profile appearances. Karloff reigns supreme on the first disc, delivering a soulful performance in 1936's The Walking Dead, one of his life-after-execution pictures. Here Edmund Gwenn is the professor applying his reanimation technique to the unjustly electrocuted Karloff; revenge killings ensue--or is it karma? Michael Curtiz's energetic direction reminds you that he rarely phoned it in. Karloff takes on the Frankenstein family name (not the Monster garb) in Frankenstein 1970 (1958), which allows him quite a long leash and more than a few doomy speeches. It gets off to a great start and has a promising "meta" setup (a movie crew is at the Frankenstein castle in order to get authentic atmosphere for their horror picture), but it falls off pretty badly.
The second disc boasts You'll Find Out, a 1940 curiosity that not only brings Karloff and Lugosi together, but throws in Peter Lorre for an extra treat. With all that, who cares if the movie is really a vehicle for the popular radio personality Kay Kyser (and his "Kollege of Musical Knowledge")? Kyser's zany style, complete with sidekicks such as the ineffable Ish Kabibble, actually translates fairly well to the screen, and the movie cheerfully follows the blueprint of a screwball-paced haunted-house comedy. Even disappointed horror mavens will warm to the sight of Karloff, Lugosi, and Lorre huddled together, plotting no good.
Zombies on Broadway is a 1945 B-picture that probably ought to be unwatchable, but in fact it's quite competent (director Gordon Douglas was a versatile pro) and often fun. The headliners are Wally Brown and Alan Carney, whose sub-Abbott and Costello repartee is generally painful, although one grave-digging joke pays off nicely. Lugosi has a meaty role as a Caribbean hoodoo doctor who creates zombies in his jungle laboratory (shades of his White Zombie character). The film was made at RKO, home to Val Lewton's legendary horror unit, and is actually something of a send-up of Lewton's I Walked with a Zombie--complete with two of IWWAZ's notable cast members, the looming revenant Darby Jones and honey-voiced calypso singer Sir Lancelot. For fans of the terror titans, a respectable set, even if the chills are scarce. --Robert Horton