HOW TO MAKE YOUR HAIR STAND STRAIGHT UP : HAIR STAND STRAIGH
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How To Make Your Hair Stand Straight Up
- Honest; trustworthy
- Straight Up: America's Fiercest Climate Blogger Takes on the Status Quo Media, Politicians, and Clean Energy Solutions is a book by author, blogger, physicist and climate expert Joseph J. Romm.
- Straight Up is the third album by power pop band Badfinger, released on December 13, 1971. It is widely regarded as Badfinger's best album, spawning two Top 20 singles in the U.S. and being commercially successful in its own right.
- In bartending, the term straight up (or up) refers to an alcoholic drink that is shaken or stirred with ice, strained, and served in a stemmed glass.
- Practical advice on a particular subject; that gives advice or instruction on a particular topic
- Providing detailed and practical advice
- A how-to or a how to is an informal, often short, description of how to accomplish some specific task. A how-to is usually meant to help non-experts, may leave out details that are only important to experts, and may also be greatly simplified from an overall discussion of the topic.
- (How To’s) Multi-Speed Animations
- A determined effort to resist or fight for something
- An act of holding one's ground against or halting to resist an opposing force
- base: a support or foundation; "the base of the lamp"
- An attitude toward a particular issue; a position taken in an argument
- be in some specified state or condition; "I stand corrected"
- The making of electrical contact
- brand: a recognizable kind; "there's a new brand of hero in the movies now"; "what make of car is that?"
- The manufacturer or trade name of a particular product
- The structure or composition of something
- give certain properties to something; "get someone mad"; "She made us look silly"; "He made a fool of himself at the meeting"; "Don't make this into a big deal"; "This invention will make you a millionaire"; "Make yourself clear"
- engage in; "make love, not war"; "make an effort"; "do research"; "do nothing"; "make revolution"
- a covering for the body (or parts of it) consisting of a dense growth of threadlike structures (as on the human head); helps to prevent heat loss; "he combed his hair"; "each hair consists of layers of dead keratinized cells"
- filamentous hairlike growth on a plant; "peach fuzz"
- A similar strand growing from the epidermis of a plant, or forming part of a living cell
- A very small quantity or extent
- Any of the fine threadlike strands growing from the skin of humans, mammals, and some other animals
- hair's-breadth: a very small distance or space; "they escaped by a hair's-breadth"; "they lost the election by a whisker"
Long considered to be the group's finest album, Straight Up(1972) is a glorious collection of strong melodies, insightful lyrics and deep emotion. Produced in part by George Harrison and containing the U.S. hit, 'Baby Blue', plus the worldwide smash 'Day After Day' — featuring George and the group's Pete Ham joining forces on the superb synchronized slide guitar solo.
This Remastered CD includes six Bonus Tracks, all produced by the Grammy Award-winning Geoff Emerick, three of which are previously unreleased songs:
• ‘I’ll Be The One’ / originally intended as a Badfinger single
• ‘Name Of The Game’ / first version; the cancelled single, Apple 35
• ‘Baby Blue’ / US single mix; not issued on 45 in the UK
• ‘Baby Please’ / previously unreleased song
• ‘No Good At All’ / previously unreleased song
• ‘Sing For The Song’ / previously unreleased song
(41/365) keep your eyes on her horizon
last night i got a text from alex that resulted in me crying myself to sleep.
he meant well. i know he did. he was only trying to do the right thing and i'm not angry at him at all. i would have done the same in his place. he tried to...make things a little better, i guess. he told me he got the letter i slipped under his door the morning i left. he never responded then, but now, he wanted to let me know that he has it, and appreciates it... but, you know, that's all there was. and there wasn't much to say back. but it just killed me.
he did the right thing.
i wanted to know anyway.
so why do i feel so awful?
i'm going to post a blog entry from when i still had a blog. i had named my blog after a tori amos song, which is also where the title of this photo comes from. so, here's the intro post:
keep your eyes on
carbon is a song by tori amos.
this is probably no surprise to anyone that i'm mentioning it, or use this phrase. i mean, what else am i other than a big walking tori amos promo ad?
anyway. so the song is about "scarlet," the persona that is telling the story of the album scarlet's walk, meeting this girl who is named "carbon" on the slopes of some rocky mountain ski trail or whatever. and carbon is a little crazy. she's depressed, she's bipolar, manic depressive. she wants to kill herself. so scarlet is like, you can't do this; i'm sure she gives her the whole "you have so much to live for" schpiel.
what if carbon doesn't really have something to live for? how is she to know?
but so scarlet is determined to save her, and this voice, maybe it's scarlet, maybe it's tori, maybe it's carbon's inner psyche or the great divine that none of us really know, this voice says, "keep your eyes on her. don't look away. keep your eyes on her horizon."
don't you dare look away.
found her at the end
of a chain
so carbon's at her wit's end when scarlet comes in, and when scarlet leaves, you have no idea if she's saved carbon. she just goes on to meet this guy called "crazy" who she gets into a destructive relationship with. and i guess that's how just about everyone is - when you come into someone's life, you're presented with this snapshot of them, while they're whizzing down the bear claw free fall gunner's view black diamond trail, and when they pass you and you walk out of their life, you have no idea what's going to happen. what if you didn't save them?
what if you kill them?
is that really your responsibility to know - or to care?
only wants to be unmade
so i called this blog/the URL/whatever i don't know "on her horizon." as most artsy assholes, there has to be a meaning behind it.
on her horizon. what was on carbon's horizon? was it a sunrise? a sunset? maybe it was a midday glare off the snow, maybe it bounced into scarlet's eyes and she couldn't really see what was on carbon's horizon despite staring right into the ball of fire that we incessantly keep spinning around due to cosmic forces that don't really give a fuck about our serotonin imbalances or lithium pills or overdoses.
"time to race," she said,
so that's all it is, in the end, i guess. a race against time or unhappiness or your friends' unhappiness before they take the double diamond course and they disappear over the horizon....and crash into a tree, or fall off the slope or get buried by an avalanche of papers in their six-by-four cubicle with the misogynist boss breathing down their necks for the next twenty years of their lives.
keep, don't look away
maybe that's why i finally decided i'd jump on the blogging bandwagon - because i can't even see my own horizon, and by typing up all the stupid little things i think and believing someone will read them, i'm keeping myself sane. i'm keeping my horizon within reach, flattening the hills and dips and dives because i don't even know how to ski, and a race downhill at this point would just be disastrous.
a lot of times i wonder what's the point of living if, in the end, whether we go to heaven or hell or get reincarnated or just go to some great beyond, nothing material matters. why do we collect things - like my obscene amount of clothes, or books - and value them so highly? i know, that's so nihilistic. but it's not like i could ever bring myself to sell the things i don't absolutely NEED and live completely spartan. i'm a slave to the material, and i don't even know why i care.
maybe i'm just piling clothes up in front of me so i don't have to face my horizon. great big mounds of denim and babydoll tees and camis and sweaters and turtlenecks and shorts and dresses until the sun has to stand on its tiptoes to see me. i don't know.
and keep your eyes on her
keep, don't look away
keep your eyes on
her eyes on
her eyes on her horizon
on her horizon. this
‘Is that the first time you’ve seen a dead body?’
‘What’s it like?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know, what’s it look like?’
‘You mean my Grandad?’
‘Aye, well…aye, your Grandad’s body, what did it look like?’
The boy sat perched on the back steps of the old house, thinking about what he had just seen.
‘Small’ he said ‘it looked small’
‘It looked…he looked small’
His friend looked down at him with a confused, unsatisfied frown.
‘I can’t explain it’ the boy continued ‘he just looked small’
‘Like a dwarf?’
‘NO! No. Not small that way. Small in a different way’
Once again his friend looked down displeasingly. He stood thinking, gently juggling the tatty football, switching it from muddy hand to muddy hand. He had been playing football on the pitches by the house when he saw the black car pull into the drive. Him and his friends had finished the World Cup Semi-Final and then he had been sent around to the house to investigate. This was the first death that any of them could remember and it had caused a lot of excitement.
‘So’ the boy started up ‘do you want to come play? We’ve just got the final to play and then you could join in?’
‘No, I cant’ the boy said ‘I have to go back in soon.’
‘You could be Cameroon if you like? I won’t mind’
‘No, I don’t think Mum would like it’
‘But it’s cuppy doubles, your favourite’
‘I can’t, I’m not allowed to play today. They said this is a sad day and I can’t go play.
My Gran, she’s really upset today, I have to be nice to her my Mum says’
‘But your Gran’s always upset, she moans allllll the time’
‘Yeh, but today I have to like her. She’s crying a lot’
‘Because your Grandad is dead?’
‘Yeh, well, I think so. I don’t know, she just cries’
The friend stood for a minute. He looked down at his faded Scotland kit and soil caked shoes, thinking hard. He knew he had to report back, his friends were waiting for him, relying on him for information and he could not let them down. He knew he must find out more.
‘But she didn’t like your Grandad. She moaned at him every single day. “Don’t stay in the garden too long, don’t bring mud in the house, don’t encourage the boys to play football so near the house”. Don’t, don’t, don’t. It’s her favourite word’
‘I know, but today I have to be nice to her. Mum says. Get her cups of tea and stuff like that’
‘Does that help?’
‘No. she just keeps crying and saying it wasn’t his time’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I don’t know’
His friend sat down on the step next to the boy, placing his feet on the ball, rolling it back and forward over the cracked concrete slabs that led from the house down to the now ownerless greenhouse. He didn’t know why but his friends presence irritated him and he wanted him to leave. His wandering red hair, his ever present smile, his manky Scotland strip and endless interest in his Grandad seemed too brash, too real.All day he had watched the world scuffle and run about the town the way it always had, as if nothing had happened. From his window in the morning he saw the paperboy tip his bundles through letterboxes. Each pile of paper talking about a world that had already moved on from the day his Grandad died.
From the hearse he had seen cyclists pedalling furiously, he had watched cars change lanes, turn corners, parking and starting, stalling and reversing as if they had somewhere to go that wasn’t sad, that wasn’t where his black clad family were going.
From the church door he had looked back on the people walking on the pavement, why didn’t they come in? Why didn’t they even look at the coffin that was being carried slowly through the doors? Why didn’t they know?
At the graveside he had looked away from that box, that small brown box as it dropped into the hole. He had looked up and watched a plane drifting through the summer sky, drifting over the quiet cries of his mum and not stopping, not even stopping for today.
The whole day had felt different, slower. Out of time. Up until the day his Grandad had died his summer had been a long dream of grass pitches, ever light nights and ice cream. No day was different yet every day was different. These were weightless times without an end, without a thought. But then today had come around, funeral day. A sad day his Mum had said through early morning tears, a day for small boys to be good. Or else.
He had felt every step. Every gesture seemed to be grand and important in some undefined, unexplained way. He had scrubbed his teeth for minutes to make sure they were extra clean, he had plastered spit on his ever stubborn fringe and he had rubbed and scrubbed his black shoes until he was sure that everyone would see that he knew that today was a sad day.
His friend wasn’t part of this world. He was part of the town that hadn’t cared. He was football and slide tackles, Valderamma and Roger Milla. He didn’t see the importance the whole day had given his family, didn’t see that they were different for today. He didn’t know why, but the boy wa
how to make your hair stand straight up
The thrill and excitement of the IMAX experience come to your home theater with this stunning DVD, digitally mastered from the original 70 mm IMAX film print. Straight Up! Helicopters In Action features more than a dozen helicopters in a series of pulse-pounding adventures that demonstrate the many roles these powerful aircraft play in our lives. Fly along with skilled helicopter crews as they carry out mountain and sea rescues, apprehend drug smugglers, repair high voltage electrical lines, save endangered animals, deliver humanitarian aid and undertake a reconnaissance mission. You'll even learn a bit of how helicopters are flown. Narrated by Martin Sheen.
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