Fashion Canada

    He is everything 1 ever wanted in a man, all that I've dreamed of.
When 1 see him, there is a primìtive recognition. Ours eyes meet,
our souls collide.
    "you're not what I expected .."
    "Pardon?" Meghan blinked and focused on the pirate instead of her
runaway pheromones.
    "Um, I meant you're kind of overdressed for a beachside resort.阳His
mouth curved into an odd smile. "Nice shoes."
    She glanced down at the high-heeled white sandals that went with her
walking shorts. 141 guess I haven't gotten into vacation mode yet."
    With a tip of his head, he indicated the crowd of people around them.
"This is some party, huh?"
    "It just got a lot better." Was she flirting? She was ßirting. Cool.
    His smile widened at the inadvertent compliment and he stood a tittle
taller, if that were possible. "1 was thinking the same thing."
    Meghan dropped her gaze, not believing him. 丁his guy was sending out
signals that had her completely off-balance. She fidgeted ， twirling the gold
bracelet around her wrist. J'So, do you come here often?"
    "Never been to this resort before, but I spend a lot of time in Key West."
    "What do you do?"
    "I'm a broker."
    She glanced at his shirt. A blind man could see that bold, gaudy pattern
a mile away. "Forgive the observation, but jt's hard to picture you calling
orders down to the trading floor."
    "Working vacations are always casual. What about you?"
    Someone jostled him from behind. As he tumed to look, he took an
unconscious step toward her. His right hand bumped her breast and a
shock of awareness zinged along her nerve endings. She gasped and he
swung around, looking at her curiously.
    Wow. If she reacted like this to an accidental fondle, she wasn't sure
she could handle a deliberate one. Reeling from the thrill of his unexpected
touch , ít took a second to remember his question.
    "Oh, um. For the past few years I've been working as a paralegal."
    "That's a legal assistant，right?"
    "Yes. I did most of the work for a trial, like filing documents with the
court, interviewing witnesses and preparing evidence." Meghan realized
she was babbling. She smoothed a damp palm over her hair and cleared
her throat. "Anyway, I'm starting at U niversity of Miami Law this fall."
    "So you're going to be an attorney." The comers of his mouth angled
into a smirk. "Did you hear thetre using lawyers in lab experiments now?
Apparently there are some things even rats won't do."
    "Gee, I never heard that one before." She rolled her eyes and laughed
along with him. "I'm going into civillaw, not criminal. I want to do mediation
and binding arbitration."
    "1 guess this is your last vacation for a while." He tipped his beer botlle
toward her in salute. "HereJs hoping it's a memorable one."
    She felt another wave of heat, and not just in her cheeks. His voice was
low and smooth, as sensuous as the rasp of bodies sliding over satin
sheets. .. The sound of 'Iaughter and applause brought her back to the
present.
    "Want to see what's going on?" Her pirate gallantly offered hìs arm,
placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. His skin felt warm, the dark
hairs silky. Her fingertips tingled at the point of contact, sendíng a tremor
along her nerves.
    He forged a path to the pool side of the deck1 made space near the
railing and maneuvered her to stand in front of him. His body heat
penetrated her back and she had a crazy urge to rub her tush against his
zlpper.
    Very subtly, she angled her head to the side. Casting a glance over one
shoulder, Meghan studied :her fantasy man. She mentally stripped off his
g.arish shirt and tight jeans. His body would be perfect-she just knew it.
Lean, hard I athletjc. Hard.
   
   

    Describe a season of church conflict you've experienced
either as a minister or member. What did you learn from
the exper ience? If the conflict still colors how you operate
within the church, confess that to Jesus. Be honest with
your feelings, but don't allow Satan to feed your offense.
Seek out a wise pastor's wife who wi ll help you work
through these hard days.
    Children do not have the abil ity to separate people from
their actions. If someone is making their dad stressed or
their mom cry, they know nothing but to be angry. Many
preachers' kids say the way thei r parents were treated in
the church drove them from it as adults. Guard young children's
ears and hearts as much as possible. Make an effort
to rema in positive in front of teens.
    Guard your tongue! I can't stress enough the damage
that can be done w hen we speak fi rst and th ink later. If in
doubt, don't say it. If your heart is pounding in anger, t urn
and walk away. Tel l it to Jesus. He alone can calm your
heart.
    Laypeople: I don't know if you can fu lly comprehend the
good intentions your ministry family has toward you.
    And frankly, that stinks. (Hardy, har.)
    So how do we go about finding BFFs in the church? What should
you look for in a friend? What type of friend should you be? How
do you avoid being exclusive or reclusive to the detriment of your
church? Let's use examples from one of the most famous friendships
in Scripture that of David and Jonathan as a guide.

'Sorry, it's just that there has been a lot of theft
lately.'
    'Jesus Christ,' I thought and said. Is this his
attempt to appease the situation? Is this his attempt
to make me feel better?
    'Do you have any identification Sir?'
    If my face were a sheet of paper, after this
question the first sentence written on it would have
been: I am so fucking fucked off you piece of shit.
'I'm sorry Sir, it's just part of-'
    'Shush,' I interrupted, reaching into my car for
my wallet. I fished out my driver's licence and

handed it over. 'Please, just don't talk to me
anymore.' This "please" was in no way meant to be
polite. I made sure I maintained eye contact as I
watched the officer step away and speak into his
radio. This was another thing I was good at; eye
contact. Whenever I was dealing with a client, or
talking to women. Hmmm, women. My lapse of
concentration suddenly made me feel twenty
percent better. The thought of women always
cheered me up. The sight of the fat and patronising
officers returning to me quickly erased the twenty
percent.
    'Thank you Sir, have a good evening.'
    It took a lot of strength and maturity for me to
not slap the patronising officer as I took back my
licence. The fat officer smiled at me. In my head I
smashed his face in. I watched them enter their
patrol car and I'm sure they broke the speed limit as
they disappeared out of the forecourt into the dark
street.
    As I stood there, trying to convince myself that
I didn't feel at least slightly humiliated, the
middle-aged white lady exited the petrol shop. She
entered her annoying looking green Nissan Micra
as she gave me the filthiest of looks. I replied by
giving her my 'have you got a problem?' look,
which was basically an animated frown. It was
successful and she sped off, surely also breaking
the speed limit.
    I took a deep breath and briefly looked up to the

sky. Looking back down, I could make out my
distorted reflection in the door of my shiny, black
baby. My wonderful BMW convertible, with cream
leather interior. I planned to jump in and vroom off
into the warm night. A night so warm, that I had
the roof down. I suddenly didn't feel so bad, in fact,
the twenty percent returned. On taking one last
look around the empty forecourt, I caught the eye
of the Asian guy who worked in the shop. He
peered out through the window as he stood behind
the counter. I had known this man's face without
knowing his name for a couple of years. Over this
period I had observed that the Asian man's accent
(was it Indian?) had faded. I also noticed how
despite this, customers would over pronounce their
sentences, and how they would speak very slowly
to him, as if the Asian man didn't understand what
they were saying. As if he were stupid. I always sort
of cringed and felt a little sorry for him when this
happened.
    The Asian man looked straight at me, he had a
look of ... surely not, I thought. The Asian man
appeared to feel sorry for me. How dare he? In
annoyance, I jumped into my BMW. As Idisappeared
out of the forecourt, so did my twenty percent.
    As I travelled through the night, I thought about
how my time had just been wasted. I recalled the
officers attempting to strip me of my dignity. I

thought about how their behaviour was racially
motivated. There was no way that I could be
convinced that the bullshit questions they asked me,
stored in their bullshit computers were not
activated by the colour of my skin. All I had done
was have the audacity to be black and buy a nice car
and fill it up with petrol. How dare I?
    I put my foot down and thought about how
much I loved driving. I loved feeling the cool
breeze softly gliding across my chocolate skin. As
a child I had always dreamed about cruising
through London in a sexy convertible sports car. I
would picture myself speeding through the night
while the city was asleep. I collected toy cars as a
youngster and had many fantasies about weaving
in and out of traffic like I was on a mission. Like I
was James Bond. I always thought that James Bond
should be black. Despite this, I didn't have too
much to complain about. Here I was, flying
through the dual carriageway in my convertible.
Oh how the breeze felt good after a long day at
work. The air and the sound of other cars whizzing
past kept me awake.
    I reflected on how I had completed the sales of
two of my developments today. It was a great day
at the office, I thought. Come to think of it, it had
been a good year so far. So why, I wondered, did I
feel anxious lately? What was bothering me? Why,
no matter how fast I drove, did that irritating cloud
seem to follow me everywhere?

    There are a variety of ways to tell when a group is ready for action. Members
may be speaking eagerly about their experiences. Someone may say something
that the others respond to with energy and spontaneity where earlier the conversation seemed to limp along . Several people may literally be sitting at the edge of their seats or expressng strong emotion when they speak. Once you have determined that the group is ready for action, as the director ask yourself,
''What will the action be ?"and "How do I enlist members to participate in it?"
    In order to answer these questions, the director must listen closely and attend to the group interactions as they evolve. The group's dynamics are intensely important to the director,.as the action emerges directly from the group's process.
    She must discover what common themes are emerging from the discussion
that can be explored sociodramarlcally.As she listens to people tell their
individual stories (plots), she listens for the themes (universal ideas and issues) that tie the stories together. Among these themes are unresolved issues shared by group members, for instance trusting a friend. They are called ope11. tension systems. The director also listens for what specific needs people have that can be satisfied through the action of the s:ociodrama, for instance the need to assert independence. These are called act hung-ers. Out of the open tension systems and act hungers, one main issue crystallizes- for instance, setting ltmits with friends. This issue, with which all group members seem to be concerned, is called the shared central issue.