Valentine's day is a day set aside for the ones we hold dearest to our heart. It is a day to act out what the inspiration of love gives us. We are provoked to go out of our way for that one person that we love so much... but why can't every day be a day for our valentine? What happened to little surprises just because? I candle lit dinner on a Tuesday night? What happened to "because you can"? Valentine's day is special, yes. It is a day recognized by the world, a day set aside to honor and pay tribute to those we love. It is a wonderful, grand day. But the little things count the most.

The little things in life:

Little surprises, thoughtful gifts... romantic spontaneity. If all you do is celebrate when you are supposed to, it becomes a habit, a tradition... just another day. Surprise him/her with little things. It could be nothing more than an "I love you" on a post-it-note stuck on the bathroom mirror in the morning. I love post-it-notes *smiles* Nothing thoughtful is ever too small or insignificant. He/She will never forget that little post-it-note. It's all about making a smile suddenly bright. It's the little things.

Every day can be a special one. We are presented with so many opportunities to make every day Valentine's Day, don't pass them up. Start when you wake up and continue it throughout the day. Make everyday a celebration of love and friendship. Because thats what a relationship is, a friendship. Don't settle for the everyday kind of love... inspire the passion of love every day.

  Honey bee colonies are dying out in 23 US states. Some affected commercial beekeepers — who often keep thousands of
colonies — have reported losing more than 50 percent of their   bees. A
colony can have roughly 20,000 bees in the winter, and up to 60,000 in
the summer.

"We have seen a lot of things happen in 40 years, but this is the
epitome of it all," Dave Hackenberg, of Lewisburg-based Hackenberg
Apiaries, said by phone from Fort Meade, Fla., where he was working
with his bees.

The country's bee population had already been shocked in recent
years by a tiny, parasitic bug called the varroa mite, which has
destroyed more than half of some beekeepers' hives and devastated most
wild honeybee populations. The current phenomenon, without a recognizable underlying cause, has been
tentatively termed “Colony Collapse Disorder” (CCD), and threatens the
pollination industry and production of commercial honey in the United States.

Researchers and bee experts said Colony Collapse Disorder is not
likely to have a major impact on the pollination of this year's more
than $1.5 billion California almond crop, which generally runs from
February to mid-March.

But the future looks more cloudy.

The
impact of colony collapse and continued complications from predatory
mites and weather could be magnified as a glut of recent almond
plantings start bearing fruit in coming years, prompting fears that
there may not be enough bees to pollinate it all.

The alarming deaths of these colonies could jeopardize crops, fruit pollination and the the honey industry. And that is only the beginning. I have always cared about our environment, though I have never been this concerned, alarmed or panicked. This could devastate our world in a way that we can't even fathom as of yet. Just think about it, all the food we love so much, gone. And all the prices will skyrocket. Honey will literally become liquid gold. We can't afford such devastation. Us Americans, we treat our lawns with chemicals so it will look pretty, but we endanger so much when we do it. For what reason? Pride? Vanity? It's not right. And now we are suffering the consequences. I have never been I tree hugging type of person, but I am about to go out on a limb here (no pun intended) and damn it... I'm going to hug a tree. What would we do if honeybee's disappeared forever? What could we do? Tell your neighbor, your family and your friends bout this matter... and make it a point to fix the problem. It is up to us... as a nation... as human beings to prevent any harm to affect us. Survival is a must... without pollination... what will we do?

My boyfriend Scott told me that he had an early Valentine's day surprise for me. I was stumped after he said "and it's a little unorthodox." I had a hunch on what it may have been... my guesses were anything from a Star Wars convention to a snowy picnic in a grave yard. It was neither. He picked me up Saturday afternoon and I spent the day kicking his butt at this awesome first person shooter game. It was a lovely evening, we had nothing to do and all day to do it. He told me my surprise was on Sunday night and then cracked a smile with anticipation of the event.

We woke up Sunday morning excited for that night. We tried to kill as much time as we could while awaiting the "surprise." I was going mad... I love surprises, but only when I don't know about them. It drives me crazy knowing I have a surprise coming and I must wait for it. I did have a hint though... his mother had accidentally said in front of me "So, when are you guys going shooting?" < don't worry, it still didn't ruin anything.

Finally Sunday night arrived... we got ready and hopped into the car and started driving. I did have an idea where we were going, but I didn't know why. He left his gun and rifle at home... what were we going to do without his gun? We pulled into the parking lot of Target World grinning like crazy people. We stepped in the door and he picked of a flyer and showed it to me. It said VALENTINES DAY MASSACRE. The St. Valentine's Day massacre is the name given to the shooting of seven people as part of a conflict between two powerful criminal gangs in Chicago, Illinois. At the shooting range gun owners sign up to allow other people to shoot there rare, old and awesome firearms. The event is primarily funded by ammo sales. To shoot the firearms you must buy the ammo for them first (which can get quite pricey.) They had Uzis, M16's, Tommy guns, and other assortments of awesome firearms.

We got there at 8:30pm and waited till about 10:30-11:00pm to shoot. Finally our turn arrived and we put on our safety glasses and our ear protection and went in.

Before the event began all of the gun owners lined up and shot off their firearms to kick of the event... it was amazing.

Next was the Tommy Gun... Oh yeah, baby. A real Tommy Gun... I felt like a real gangster. Watch out Al Capone... I'm dangerous!!

So, that was my Valentine's Day Surprise *smiles* It was fun! I didn't find out till we got their that Scott had never attended this event before... so we both got to share a first time experience together. It was a memory that will stay with me forever.

Later that evening he gave me a little something else. It was a little stuffed bee that said "Bee my honey" *smiles* I thought it was adorable. It was a great day and the first time I got to share a Valentine's Day event with someone I cared for. I had a lot of fun *smiles*

The two guns I shot (click to enlarge)

What was your favorite Valentines day gift or surprise from your honey?

I while back I had a few pet rats. Lezlie (a brown rat) Stitch (a hooded rat) and Felix, my favorite. Felix was black with white tummy and a white blaze on his face and three white socks. I named him Felix because Felix means "happy" and thats what he was... one happy rat. He was the mellower one of the three and was content sitting peacefully on my shoulder. Believe it or not, every rat has a different personality like dogs do. Lezlie was the curious one that got into everything. Stitch was indifferent about the world. And Felix seemed to have the personality of an old monk. He was patient, loving, wise...  and he was happy. *smiles*

I miss Felix and I miss my rat owner days. I have been thinking about adopting another rat... I miss them. Despite what a lot of people think, rats are very clean creatures and quite gentle. They are good with kids and become a member of the family quicker than you might expect. Felix was my pal, we went everywhere together... wherever we could anyway. When I had my rats I was the talk of the neighborhood, I was then known as "the lady with the pet rats" it was fun and I had a blast... so did they. My rats were some of my favorite pets I have ever cared for, definitely in my top three. And again very soon I shall have this joy again.

I got almost as much joy from having rats as I did raising rabbits with my grandma and grandpa. Both were very fun experiences with a lot of laughs and smiles.

As greenray requested... I played in the snow *smiles*

^^ Laying in the snow. Photo credit goes to my sister Marisa ^^

^^ My little sister Marisa... I love her so much ^^

^^ My lil' brother Jaden... isn't he so cute! ^^

^^ My evil step brother Ricky... I call him POD (Prince Of Darkness) ^^

We played, and played, and played and made snow angels. The sun was setting fast so we couldn't play long, but it was fun. I hadn't played with my brothers and sister in the snow for at least a couple years... it was so fun and much enjoyed. Seeing Jaden have fun in the snow was worth the awful temperature of 16-17°F. Right now as we speak it is 2 degrees below 0°F. Yeah, I know... Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. So now greenray has asked me to take more pictures of me with glasses on... he is lucky he's a friend of mine and I adore him *smiles* So look forward to more pics soon!

Update At Bottom....

When I arrived at my space station today and logged into xanga as I usually do to check my comments...  I stumbled upon this:

Grandfather of Far_Skies; Husband of MotherOPearl and step father to CynaraJane.... May I proudly introduce Mr_Keegio to the world of Xanga. My grandfather is now on xangan! Why don't you swing by and introduce yourself and welcome him into the family... I know he would love it!

***************************************

Bishop the abominable, disobedient, misbehaving, corrupt cat, king of the litter box has threatened not only I... but us humans. This threat has not been taken lightly and all energy sources will go to retaliation if attack occurs. 

Do not underestimate the human race... we are fighters!

"We will not go quietly into the
night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive!"

We finish what is started regardless of who started it first! You are forewarned, Bishop... do not make this any harder on yourself.

... we have squirt guns. Mmwwahahahahahahah!!!

My throat was sore, I could feel my airway tighten up with each painful breath. 105°F, I was burning up. The fever made me hallucinate... and the pain kept me from eating. I was a very sick child growing up, in and out of the hospital. Same thing every time. I was weak beyond weak, my energy was completely gone. I could barely walk without toppling over, the dizziness was unbearable. Dad picked me up and carried me to the car... we needed to go to the hospital. I was brutally sick, unable to function. I was hungry and dehydrated... and cold. We got to the hospital... help was needed.

He carried me in slowly making sure a wasn't thrown about too much, I looked as pale as a ghost. It wasn't long before we were helped and the nurse was very worried about my condition. My throat ached so much, crying was no use... it just made it harder to breath. I wanted to cry though... and a couple times I did. God, I was in so much pain! One look at me and my medical history they knew what was wrong... strep throat and tonsillitis. At often times I got both at the same time. They would bring about other complications too, like ear infections... bad ones. The doctor said "I think the only safe and permanent solution is to remove her tonsils." And so it came to pass that I had one of the most painful experiences of my life. I was not looking forward to this... I was scared.

The time came as time does. After taking medicine and getting a little better, the time arrived where I had to face a nightmare of mine and I was being wheeled into the operating room. I kept asking the doctor "am I gonna be ok?" And telling him "I'm scared" (keep in mind I was 4 years old) I lay there in the operating room, daffy duck, daisy duck, mickey mouse, mini mouse, goofy and pluto are on the walls and ceiling. The doctor said he was going to give me some laughing gas and that I could pick the flavor. The flavors were Grape, Strawberry, Orange, Cherry, and the new Watermelon. I chose Grape (my favorite) "good choice" he said. I mask went over my face and he told me to breath in normally and count back from 100. So I did... 100, 99 (the room is spinning) 98, 97 (mini and mickey mouse is looking funny) 96... I was out. The next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery room. I woke up two hours late from when I should have... I guess I had everyone worried. (I'm a heavy sleeper, lol.) Right upon awakening I was asked how a felt... I gave no verbal answer, just a nod. "we removed your adenoids too." My throat hurt so much. I was asked if I wanted a popsicle or ice cream... "Ice Cream" my soft horsed voice replied with a painful echo. The nurse thought it to be weird I wanted ice cream "all the kids always go for popsicle." Truth me told... the ice cream was softer and even then I didn't think I could swallow it... I could barely swallow water. I was sore and heavily drugged. After my release from the hospital that day... I went home. But my trials were not over... they were only beginning.

I was home now, safe and sound. I fell right to sleep when I got home... only to wake up to the most agonizing pain I have ever felt. I was crying... Oh God it hurt. The doctor didn't prescribe me any pain reliever... and over the counter childrens meds just didn't cut it. It was brutal... the itching of the stitches made me cough... and the coughing made my throat bleed. I could feel and taste blood all the time, it was crusted to my lips. This wasn't normal... something was wrong. We went in for a check up "all normal, she's healing up just fine." But I knew everything wasn't fine... I'm constantly bleeding and thats fine?! what seemed like an eternity of painful nights and days went by and I finally healed. Years later my mother brought up the experience to my family doctor (whom was not part of the surgery) He was shocked "they didn't give her pain meds!?!" "Constant bleeding?!... no, thats not normal.".... The last thing he said was "did you sue for malpractice?" If we would have known any better at the time... we would have.

It was the most painful experience of my life thus far... it was a living nightmare.

I was accident prone as a child... come to think of it, I still am! I was always getting cuts, bruises, and scrapes. I was a rambunctious little thing... always getting into mischief. Come to think of it... that hasn't changed either. But this day I had topped myself in the "lets get stupidly injured" category.

I was about 4 years old, almost 5. I was playing in my grandmothers office and I had crawled up onto a glass topped tracing table that my grandpa built for my grandma for her artwork. It was a simple box with legs with a glass lid. I had crawled on top of it to open a window... not thinking that the glass wouldn't support my weight. (((crash))) (((breaking noises))) My knees fell through the table. I was scared to death. The glass had punctured my knee... I didn't know what to do. I was afraid to call my mom for fear I might get in trouble... especially because I was bleeding! (little minds think small, remember I was 4) I took the piece of glass in my little hands and tried to ease it out of my knee... it wasn't budging. I tried harder... out came the piece of glass with speed and cut my leg even further. I was scared to death now. When I stood up I could feel the warm trickle of blood down my leg. I didn't know what to do... should I go to mom? Luckily they had heard a noise and noticed I had gotten quiet... when I was quiet something was wrong (I was a loud kid). They ran in the room where to make sure I was ok. First they saw the broken glass... then they saw me. My pants were ripped and blood soaked. My mother took a look at it... the cut had exposed the fatty tissue in my leg, it was almost down to the muscle. Looking at a gaping wound on her child's little leg sent my mother into shock (mom was never able to handle seeing me bleed) But anyone would have trembled at the sight of this kind of injury on a little girl.

 Mom scooped me up and ran me to the couch as my grandmother called the Ambulance. Mom held a rag to the bleeding gash in my leg. I was fine, I didn't cry... it really didn't hurt. What scared me was my moms face, she was pale with fright... and that scared me. My grandmother was frantic on the phone... and that scared me too. I was fine, wasn't I? I wasn't sure anymore. The Ambulance got there pretty fast and they check my vitals... I was fine.. so far. They put a compress on my leg and carried me to the back of the Ambulance. They were very nice, one of them gave me a stuffed dalmatian puppy (which I still have somewhere.) We got to the hospital and they wheeled me in on a gurney. The doctor came in to see me and prep for stitches.

She squirted some anesthetic into my wound and immediately started to scrub it out... I told her that it hurt, she said "you'll be fine." But I could feel everything. She was starting with the first stitch when I screamed "OWEY, I can feel that!" She told me I was being ridiculous. She didn't believe me. I was screaming at the top of my lungs the whole time she is sewing me up... I felt like throwing up from the pain. My mother had called her husband whom showed up soon after she called. He stepped in the door in full police uniform and stated "I could hear this child screaming from the other end of the hospital and I would like to know why, right now!" The whole time with his hand on his gun holster. The doctor said "she's just being a baby about the stitches" With tears rolling down my face in a steady flow I said "No Daddy, I can feel them, it hurts!" He demanded that she give me more anesthetic... finally she did. The last few stitches out of 13 were painless... but the rest were ungodly painful. I felt all 10 or 11 before the last ones... and that was enough for me to want to pass out from the pain. The doctor look at my dad and snarled "most kids fall asleep by now" PASS OUT YOU MEAN! Thats what I was thinking.

Not only did she neglect numbing my wound... but she did an awful job of stitching me up and left me with a brutal scar on my leg. I am still asked from time to time where I got it... and then I go on to tell this story. The story about the old tracing table and the evil doctor from the depths of hell. It was an awful experience. Sadly it wasn't the last time I needed stitches for an injury. I have had a total of 28 stitches in my life, including this story, another story and a surgery... I've had two surgeries... but to be honest I don't know how many I had with the first one. I'll have to tell you that surgery story sometime... that was an awful experience too.

Well, now you know of my worst "owey"...

What was your worst injury?

UPDATE: Questions, Answers and things worthy of comment.

"How do we know that we are not all aliens??" - Just_Me_Rambling

Good question... how do you know that we are not all alien? I could be, you never know for sure! Some do believe that aliens have hybridized with us and mutated our genes... for all I know you may be right... I might be an alien, you might be one too. We may never know for sure.


"sometimes I believe you may have escaped from Wright Field." - greenray

Ok, ok... you caught me! I am an alien... *hangs head ashamed* I escaped from Wright Field. Do with me what you will. *falls to knees sobbing* I tried to tell you... I just couldn't bring myself to say it. *cradles head in hands* I am not worthy of your friendship! I deserve to be stoned!! (if no one else thought that was funny... just remember, I did. And that's all that counts  lol)

"I read the psuedo-novel by Whitley Strieber www.unknowncountry.com entitled The Grays. It was a good read and he certainly has some insight into the alien myth." - nebulatravel

I have read many books by Whitley Strieber including 'The Grays.' I do believe that his books add good insight into alien myth, they do so because I believe his novels are nothing more than a science fiction writers story telling. As a Ufologist myself, I am surprised that no one has called him on a bluff yet. Soon, if I can get a hold on him.

"He never came out and said if the craft was ever housed at Wright-Pat, but he did tell me that it was taken to this base for reverse engineering. The bodies were disposed of after the autopsies, but the craft was taken there. He said there was a 40 - 50 year cone of silence placed over the project until they could figure it out, how it worked." - RedHairedCelt

Truly amazing my friend, I have heard similar stories... I value your comment highly however. It isn't every day you get to hear such awesomeness. Thank you for sharing, I appreciate it.

**************************************

I just watched a documentary the other day about the Roswell incident. A UFO was said to have crashed in Roswell, New Mexico in July 1947. The news was first broadcasted on a radio station, a government official handed in a paper with the report on it, apparently this guy owed Grant Taylor a news story. It aired July 8, 1947.  claiming "A flying disc has been found and is now in the possession of the Army." The word spread fast. But just as fast as the information was reported... it was also denied. They claimed that the UFO was nothing more than a weather balloon associated with a top secret project dubbed "Project Mogul." Eye witness accounts paint a different story...

Lt. Col. Philip J. Corso was an eye witness to the Roswell incident and astonished the world with his testimony. He published a book called The Day After Roswell before he died... he had nothing to lose. It had been decades since he was sworn to secrecy... and he wasn't getting any younger. He talked... and man a mouth full was said.

Another witness was Major Jesse Marcel. Marcel handled some of the material from the alleged UFO crash. Below is a picture of the "crash debris" though Jesse states that the material in the picture is not the material he recovered. "The material in the picture is from a weather balloon... and it is not what I recovered. It was switched" he says.

I grew up with this legend of Roswell. I live by Wright-Patterson Air Force Base (Wright Field) in Ohio. Where the downed craft and it's pilots were said to be taken and held in the notorious "Hanger 18". The lore of it looms heavy. Wright-Patterson and Hanger 18 were popular long before Area 51 (Groom lake) Though Area 51 seems to somehow over shadow Wright Field.

For a school assignment I was told to call up the Curator of the Wright-Patterson AFB Museum. I will not give out his name... but our phone conversation was quite interesting. He told me to call NASA and ask for information about unknown objects captured in space... he told me a would get an interesting answer. So I call NASA. "Hello, how may I help you?"... "Hi, I was wondering, do you have any pictures or video clips of strange unknown object or UFO's in space?"... The reply was quite boggling... "I'm sorry, NASA has nothing to do with space. Therefore the information you have requested has been denied." LMFO... NASA, you crack me up. *slaps knee* National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) even has the word "space" in their name... yet they have nothing to do with space? Sounds quite unusual. I called the Curator back and told him the response I got, we both had a good laugh.

I don't know about all this UFO business... but it sounds pretty convincing. There is definitely something we are not being told... but what is it? Have aliens already landed? Are we no longer the "alpha dog" of the universe? Is this topic the reason why every Presidents hair goes grey shortly after going into office? We may never know for sure. All we know was that something strange fell from the sky July 8, 1947... witnessed by hundreds of people who were shortly silenced with threats... all because of a downed weather balloon?... where did the bodies come from?

I'll leave you with this... Former Navy SEAL Gerald Anderson claims to be the last living Roswell eye witness. He was a boy when he saw it...He states... and I quote "I remember huge black eyes. You could see their muscles move. They were not human, and I'll maintain that until the day I die," Anderson said. "God only knows where they were from or how far they were from home. Their toy was broke and their situation seemed impossible."

What do you believe took place in July of 1947? Was it otherworldly? Or imagination taken to an extreme?

Ok... first of I would like to say this.. I am retarded. Yes, thats right... mentally retarded. And now I am going to oppolagize for my appearance in the pics and the video clip ahead. Here are my excuses... My hair was messed up, I was wearing my glasses... and it was bad lighting. And now I have a question for my mom... Am I that fat in person? They say the camera does add 5 pounds. Anyway... idk

My dude Scott and I went to the shooting range, I had never been there before and he thought it would be nice if he was the first one to take me. He handed me a 9mm... this is what happened.