future farmers towering over sea of people

A few nice hair growth tips images I found:

future farmers towering over sea of people


Image by donielle
RFD-TV
www.ktla.com/entertainment/roseparade/ktla-roseparade2009…

FLOAT THEME: FFA Today

RFD-TV is paying tribute to the National FFA Organization, the nations premier youth leadership organization, which currently has 506,199 members in 7,429 school chapters located in all 50 states, Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands. Founded as the Future Farmers of America in 1928, the organization changed its name to FFA in 1988 to reflect the growth and rich diversity of careers in agriculture while finding new ways to infuse agriculture in the classroom, which is showcased each week on RFD-TV.

Distinguished by their blue corduroy jackets, FFA members have been recognized for 82 years as being "a cut above the rest." They earn respect in their schools and communities through their unselfish dedication to premier leadership, personal growth, and career success through agricultural education. The six 2009-2010 National FFA Officers and the four winners of the FFA "Stars Over America" competition will ride on the float along with the National FFA Advisor, Dr. Larry D. Case. Fifty-two elected state FFA presidents will march alongside the float carrying their respective state flags, representing a new generation for American agriculture across the country.

FLOAT BUILDER: Phoenix Decorating Co.

FLOAT DESCRIPTION:
Height: 30 ft.
Width: 18 ft.
Length: 75 ft.

RFD-TV, the nations first television channel dedicated to serving the needs and interests of rural America, makes its second appearance in the Rose Parade. Appropriately, the 75-foot-long float is both a tribute to rural youth and the future of agriculture, without which there would be no Tournament of Roses Parade. The float will feature three gigantic sculptures depicting members of FFA (founded as Future Farmers of America) engaging in agricultural, educational and developmental activities. But thats just the beginning. The float further highlights the symbols taken from the FFA emblem, no doubt familiar to the millions of former FFA members who will be watching from around the world.

The FFA symbols include a nod to the history of farming with a larger-than-life moldboard plow. An owl representing wisdom and advice from teachers is perched atop it, watching over the proceedings. Other design elements include a sleek horse, a harvesting combine, barn and windmill, a stand of evergreens, a grove of fruit trees, and a golden burst of sunshine rays representing the dawning of a new day in agriculture. At the rear of the float is a group of urban buildings and a communications satellite reminding viewers that agriculture today makes the best use of technological advances, and that FFA members are preparing for careers in the science, business and technology of agriculture. Featured on the float will be 11 riders from the National FFA Officer Team, the FFA Stars Over America winners and the National FFA Advisor. They will be joined by 52 state FFA presidents walking alongside the entry carrying flags that represent the 50 American states, Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands.

FLOWERING: The bounty of America is displayed on the RFD-TV float: in addition to typical Rose Parade decorating materials the 75-foot-long entry is bedecked with wheat, oats, raw cotton, corn, sorghum and soy beans, pumpkins, corn on the stalk, artichokes, carrots and gourds. At the front of the float, the plow is created with redwood bark and palm bark, and boasts silverleaf blades. The wise old owl has a head of chopped ming moss, uva grass, pampas grass, hyacinth root, and a beak of corn meal, poppy seed and nori seaweed; eryanthus plums and corn husks add additional accent to the chest and lower body, and ti leaves, palm fiber and corn husks add to avians backside. The sculpted produce at the entrys front have grown from seeds of deception the pumpkins are covered with a mixture of ground orange lentil seed and bronze strawflower; tomatoes are red strawflower and lentil seed; the corn is bursting with popcorn kernels, small white beans, and has husks of ti leaves and ground parsley, tipped with corn silk. Fine ground sorghum, oats, and strawflower curry favor as the horses golden body, while pampas grass creates its flowing mane and tail, with hooves dressed in lettuce and poppy seeds.

The sculpted female FFA member is much like the nursery rhyme with a face of spice (but no sugar), and tresses of uva grass, corn silk, buffalo grass and palm fiber. Her jacket is made of blue corn meal and fine cut blue and purple statice. The sculpted FFA man in the middle is clad in a ground rice and strawflower lab coat; his face and hands also are covered in a blend of spices, and he has hair of curly seaweed and ground onion seed; his beaker contains red strawflower blended with fine ground orange lentil seed; when closely examined the microscope is revealed to be yellow strawflower, golden clover seed, poppy seed and silverleaf. The third sculpted FFA member has a face of spices similar to his female friend, but is hirsutely adorned with uva grass, pampas grass and excelsior; the plans in his hands are fine ground rice, inked by powdered onion seed. The stand of pines are real pines standing on trunks enhanced with thin pieces of redwood bark.

The combines are covered with yellow strawflower, red beans and whole split peas; the rice and strawflower-covered blades are cutting real wheat and barley. The fruit trees are laden with real apples, lemons and oranges, and have trunks of fine crushed walnut shell. The barn has walls of red strawflower, a roof of silverleaf and energy-efficient solar panels of blue statice and ground white rice. The nearby windmill has a base of ground rice with a fan of spinning everlasting and strawflower blades. The satellite in synchronous orbit above the float is powered by clover seed, ground rice and blue statice.

The large center of the sun at the rear of the float is created with whole chrysanthemums, with a burst of bronze strawflower. The cascading waterfall is flowing with dark blue, light blue, purple and white irises. The base of the float has a bountiful crop of roses, carnations and daisies in light and dark orange, bright yellow, light and dark lavender, pink, hot pink and a special accent of white roses. Also responding to the future farmers green thumbs are floral arrangements that feature orchids, gladiolus, leather fern, Spanish moss, starburst chrysanthemums, phaleonopsis, billy buttons, sun flowers, China mums, anthuriums and daffodils.

pandora’s aquarium


Image by sevenphonecalls
(c) mehmet erdoğan

You saw Pandora in fifth grade writing love notes on scraps of paper and thought her to be impossibly romantic. On the first day of school she wore a pink shirt that showcased two red hearts inside one another, and when she took some time getting up after the bell rang, you fell in love with her. She liked shivering early mornings; she collected cut outs of movie stars from magazines. You stayed consistently curious throughout high school – perhaps insistent on your crush particularly so it would get you through three years of otherwise mind-numbing world of academe. She would pack so much grace in small movements in the tiniest of moments it confused you. Which is why when she smiled at you, it warmed you, made you want to sing, made you want to dance – until you saw her smile at Josh, too, and then at Phil, and even at Casey. When Titanic came out, Leo DiCaprio was all she’d talk about, so you grew your hair. You got your braces taken out, much to your mother’s chagrin. You tried writing poems, but it wasn’t in you; you watched your brother play the guitar in his room and felt sorry for yourself. You jerked off in the bathroom quietly trying to think of anything but her, almost succeeding but only up to the last second; and when you got up and flushed, guilt covered your ankles like a pair of jeans glued to the floor.

There was a point where you were supposed to become a stronger version of yourself, when the older relatives in the family should notice a crack in your voice and contemplate the growth of your bones. Instead, it felt as though the tides of time took a little bit more sand from your shores every day; each "good night!" left you a little smaller, and you grew quieter, especially around her, especially when she walked up and down the hallway, as you pretended to look for a pencil or your soccer shoes in that locker. Eventually where others were filled with excitement, with danger, with history, with intellectual awakenings, you found yourself drawing blank. It seemed that just when that breakthrough moment had come for you, just when it was your turn to shine and you’d opened your mouth to celebrate, someone had put you on pause and left you there, waiting.

But you wanted it. Of course you wanted it.
The excitement, the danger, the history, the intellectual awakenings.
Instead you started to skip breakfast and opted to dive to the very bottom of yourself, every morning digging without an idea of what to do dig for but still yearning, hoping you’d recognize it if you could just spot it – though always having to resurface, always at the wrong times, breathless and aching.

She was bigger than everyone else combined – even her own shadow couldn’t live up to it; she outdid everyone and everything. As if a bird overlooking them all, in an instant flash, you saw it: all those boys (and Jacqueline, perhaps,) overwhelmed and scribbling in their respective corners, with her head raised high in the front seat, occasionally palming the pairs of eyes on the back of her head, in her hair, then lowering her arm to the floor and opening her palm, as if feeding stars to the fish in an aquarium.

Strangely enough, she never dated anyone. Everyone dated her – in their heads, in their stories, at night in dreams. It was the way it was those days: she smiled to you and you melted. She said hello and your appetite grew stronger. It was through her the plaids made a comeback. Then headbands. She wore one to a school party and next week the style went through the locker rooms like gonorrhea.

You grew suspicious of everyone who was smiling at the cafeteria.

Washing your hands in the sink and catching a glimpse in the mirror, you became suspicious of yourself…

.

Seven years later, now, a few minutes after you step out of the train on 72nd and start walking on Amsterdam, you will see her sitting at a café, wearing a beret, holding a mug to her lips, keeping it there for warmth. She will appear frozen for a tiny second, then move ever so slightly. (Still graceful – some things never change.) She won’t see you, so you will walk by, without a wave, and then you will think: all those seven years will come to you, jump to you, heavy as marshmallow, light as lead, stir you, shake you. Seven years of dirty towels under your bed will say: There is an incomplete scene here, this is your cue. Then in a rush, as in a run-on sentence, you will turn around and go in and stop by her table, wave awkwardly, all white teeth and good hair, the wave uncharacteristic of a 22 year old, a wave seven years late; you will say "hi – " then stop, frustrated with the word itself as if there should be more to it. You will make small talk, only the tips of your fingers inside your pockets, your little pockets unable to contain more, you cursing your fashion choices. You will step back and forth, throw the hair out of your face, take a quick peek at her notepad as she is talking to you – two scribbled hearts inside one another – and then you will both laugh at something she said, or you said, and then you will leave. Seven years of foreplay for such a short climax; so worth it, you will think. That’s the way it goes in the world with her in it. That’s the way it will go: After you get home you will think about her, though only briefly and after that only once in a while, only sometimes, like a secret box of chocolate you take out to enjoy only on special occasions.

What you didn’t know: She did date this boy for a very short time, but asked him to please keep it a secret while she continued flirting with other boys. She was the anti Santa Claus, collecting from children; she sucked out your hearts, all of them, as if she were a gigantic vacuum cleaner only NASA knew of. She was never all that romantic, though she was obsessed with the faint idea of it. She would not have appreciated a poem, or a song. She would have been flattered by your gesture, yes, and she would have been struck by its beauty, but it would not actually have entered her. It would have hit her, and bounced back off. She had no entrances; she was a vault. For you to fondle the lock and curse was eventually what she wanted. For you to knock and ask, Is anyone home? so she could peek her head out of the shower for a whole second and smile, before she went back in to reach for the bottle of shampoo. The attention, the effort, the eyes on her chest: she wanted these things, but only them, and in moderation. High school kids had been an army she could control. Had she let a willing guest come in, she would have had nothing to show, but to everyone looking in from the outside, the clean windows, the pink curtains had been full with the promise of something utopian and perfect.

Even now, as you lie head buried in blankets, still skipping breakfast, waking up listlessly to each morning, drawing days out like savings from a bank, you think she added to you.

One day you’ll figure out she is the reason you stopped making friendships.
One day you’ll figure out she is the reason you secretly think of jerking off as perverse, which is why you wish so desperately to stop it.
One day you’ll notice the girl in the apartment below yours sitting with the TV off when you’re home; then the blinking light on the answering machine, then the dehydrated house plant in your window.

I hope, eventually, someone at least tells you often you have the most beautiful hands.

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