All About Cancer

Cuba ….. Na Na Na Na Na Salsa

I know there are some old adage to do with the first half of his life being cared for by their parents and the second half that you are life care for your parents. Well, I've been taking care of my mother all my life especially in times when my father is not around and she goes into full competition melt. The first time my Dad was on a business trip abroad, managed (and do not ask me how) to put his hand on the bottom of the mower while still in progress. I can still see, and always have been burned into my brain for the moment put his hand in a sink full of water instantly turned a deep shade of red, just like in the movie 'Jaws'. Duggan women are not strong-willed and stomache about my mother going to faint, my sister ran out of the room with the intention to call a good friend of the family of the road for help, only to faint on the way due to the "view of blood. "So we were nine years old Alice running through relationships with wet towels and sugar water trying to revive both. Needless to say my dad was rewarded by the return of Hong Kong with a large bag of Haribo for being "Daddy's Girl brave little and my mother was never allowed to cut the new lawn.

So this gives you an idea of the mental state of Ms. Duggan to embark on a journey into the depths of the Caribbean with his daughter to the charge, without only man in the world that can save any situation no mater how dire. I would say that I sympathize with this, but in honesty I do see some weakness in a class to play in it? "You've got the passport is not it?", "Flight Heathrow Gatwick is not right?", Etc. Cruel reality but very funny. Anyway the joke was on me to get to Gatwick at 4.30 to find that our 07.55am flight to Havana with Cubana Airways was not in any place to be seen on the blackboard, and after half an hour running around frantic to discover that the plane on which we intend to be flying in (which was bound to come to the UK 6:20 a.m. de La Habana) had not even left Cuba yet. Another half hour later it was revealed that the plane was defective and another plane sent from Madrid and leaving at 2.30pm. Wonderful. Does anyone have any suggestions how to spend 9 hours high in the departures Gatwick Airport? Not me. Reading maybe – so I packed all my books neatly nice easy ride in the main luggage and had only Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls, trying to embrace the whole Cuba thing, which is not the easiest to read to pass the time, believe me. So give bought a puzzle game, connected on my ipod and noted the existence strange and wonderful to the departure lounge of the airport capita (and it is no wonder that so many TV shows do them!)

Well, the plane did not go to 2.30, left at 4.30 and one would think that perhaps after the hell of my family now extends to Cuban victims were respiratory tract, we want to be treated like movie stars, pampered with drinks and snacks, at the time of check always available. Well you would think wrong and should be reported to the fact demands that the Cuban communist regime all work, for more or less the same salary, and are not in danger of losing jobs not … .. Where is the incentive to do their job, especially when surrounded by hundreds of tourists high maintenance?! Anyway, the plane did not have entertainment, seat was a free for all, the staff was rude to the point of disbelief, there was a fucking annoying group of school children including two lovers sat down in bloom I, who snogged for 11 hours WHOLE trip, and, as he had banished any hope of a vegetarian meal without food. Gosh I sound like my grandmother moaning. Yet so I take comfort in the fact that money was spent on flights to the Cuban economy, and not that pussy pocket Branson.
Anyway with a lot of time in my hand when it was time to address the lonely planet guide "A Brief History of Cuba." And so began the obsession … ..

Manos I knew very little about Cuban culture / history before going ("They're Communists, right?") and generally have no interest in learning about the history of places. A few years ago I spent a month traveling in Japan with two of my bestest friends, who was living there for some years. We had a great time, however both history as being (ISH) students I can imagine my "You've seen a temple that has seen them all, we go to do karaoke again" mentality a bit grating. I figured it would be the same in Cuba … "Yeah yeah very nice lets go salsa dancing and rum drink!" Unfortunately, I do not know if I'm doing higher and this is what happens, but I am absolutely fascinated by the whole affair.
So like I tell all he knew was that they were communists and that recently some guy named Castro had resigned. I am concerned that this may cause chaos and unrest, but was assured by coworkers caribbeaners (?) Are far from busy drinking rum and smoking cigars for all states of affairs, and while the Yankees kept out was likely civil unrest (and I hope that the Yankees had f * cked by sufficient countries in recent years to stay away, at least until I had got a tan).
Reading the guide helped set the stage for me, so I posted a short summary of the facts, I've seen:

-Native Cubans lived happily
"The natives of another Caribbean island arrives, kills all native Cubans and live happily
-Spanish to reach and grab things – killing loads and use the rest of the slaves
-400 Years after José Martí takes a revolution to free themselves from the Spanish and U.S. step at the last minute and steal the glory
US-fuck it right
"A group of rude boys (inc. Castro and Che Guava) plot to oust the Americans and some dick and trampled freeing Batista Cubans living by giving them the "ideal" existence
"To piss the U.S., Russia, Cuba to keep alive by buying lots of sugar and cigarettes
– Russia (or should I say the USSR) fuck (greedy bastards) and Cuba gets screwed over and people are starving
– They begin to leave lots of happy tourists agile (like me) to have all their money so they can eat again.

So you can see why I stopped at the 1st story available now!
Anyway back to the grueling long flight … .. finally dropped my ship about 1 am, when Cuba (5 am English) due to a fall rather than expanded in Holguin, and rushed through check visas and luggage that took us to the arrival of some 2 a.m. ….
So first thought is the will of our transfer to be there as they were intended to reach 4pm? At first inspection, no, but after half an hour of panic follows that our society has booked two names – how stupid of us! So we slip off to Havana in prayer our hotel had 24 hours of receipt. Unfortunately, I did not see much of the city on the album as planned 3 a.m. be but at least we were on our way. Closer to the hotel they started to get a sickening feeling that is too familiar with me now being in a city at night, resulting in an ugly incident in Barcelona a few years back (and yes, the story gets more complex every time you said – they had knives and You know, I say knives? I mean firearms). So it was not all the best happy when I heard our taxi could not drive down the street our hotel was on and intended to leave us at the end of it. A few pesos (explain money in the future) encouraged him to wait while my dear mother (completely unperturbed by this) ran to the road to check that it was open. Halle-fucking-lujah it was. Almost kissing the taxi driver got me into my backpack and headed down the road to the beautiful "Beltrán Santa Cruz Hotel.

So be welcomed with a smile by the receptionist then exclaims "There's a bit of a problem with your room, the pipe is broken and we had to move to another hotel, just 5 minutes round the corner facing the square "

Where do you add? Honestly? I took here. "Look friend, we have been doing for 30 hours, 13 of these go fucking at Gatwick Airport, 13 in a plane of shit right out of the bedrock and the rest in transit between these places, we have not eaten, have not changed underwear, we have not cleaned your teeth, and smell of dead rats and crap that is trying to tell me you're doing 2 poor helpless women to lug luggage through an unfamiliar city to them at 4 in the morning to go to a hotel because it has a problem Plumbing shit? "
At least that's what was said in my head … what he actually said, in a very weak and feeble groan, "Please, will you come with us, I have fear. "bless his cotton And he did.
Over time, my head touched the pillow at 5:30 am when Cuba (9.30 English) after cope with the disaster end of the night to open my backpack, I found my sunscreen had exploited all my material. A perfect start to a holiday not you agree? Things can only get better.

I guess maybe I should actually say something about my trip instead of my script for "holiday from hell."

This was my first and most definitely not the last trip to the Caribbean. I think it was about 8 when I bought "100% reggae" and decided that he would to spend my honeymoon in Jamaica, so hopefully I'll go back to arrive at these costs, given that I can find someone to marry me. Moreover, many Other places to visit, Santa Lucia, Barbados, Antigua, Bahamas, etc, etc … Hopefully this future husband is rich! Cuba, however, seems to have something different to the rest and walk on the sunny streets of Havana for the first morning confirmed. Cubana Airways Big Day Out suddenly seemed a distant memory. Breath taking architecture ranging from Spanish colonial buildings in Old Havana, (many of them abandoned completely, but in a cowardly manner!), the neo classical and Vedado Art Deco American influence in central Havana. Diversity've never seen in any city, and with the added advantage that unlike most cities that have avoided pushing monstrous 1970s tower blocks dead in the middle of a beautiful area. Any run by ugly buildings just added to the character.
It is a cliché that there are bands playing in every restaurant, every street corner with people singing and dancing around. True, I was there. The first stop was the Il Patio restaurant in the Plaza de la Catedral (possibly my favorite mojito of the whole party, although they were many and the 1st is forced to taste the best!). There was a small 3-piece group playing (guitar, sax and bass), while a woman danced around nut case (Mom said she had been there 2 years ago when she and my sister had gone!). They were awesome, I just could not get enough of it! Then this guy from the crowd (Italian I think) danced alone to vals, asked to have a go at the sax and just wiped the floor with some improvisations that put everything I have when playing in a remedial class. That's not happen anywhere else in the world and the punters went crazy for it!

So the first day was devoted mainly to get a feel for the site. Walking lost, stopping for mojitos from time and again, taking several thousand photos on all new streets in all possible angles. In the afternoon we (Recommendation of some friends) through a ferry ride across the water to rise to a strong (and a large statue of Jesus.) It was fun actually like this main attraction was clearly not the shuttle bus seemed to be literally the local and labor. We stuck out like sore thumbs! Also at the top of our hike shortly views found not only surprising Havana, but also a mini museum of the house of Che Guava, where he lived post-revolution and he ran to help pre Bolivia and be killed. There I discovered I had asthma, like me, who briefly inspired me to go and start a revolution, but soon exceeded it.
Food in Cuba is a shit, I mean really sucks. I really do not understand how they can get so bad, but they do and especially as a vegetarian we were screwed. You get eggs, many eggs, many eggs that the word is still making me feel physically sick. Mother, having been here before knew this had prepared a kettle and a big bag of cous cous to help us in extreme situations, but also worked brilliantly whereabouts of the only Italian restaurant (possibly in Cuba) to Havana we have achieved at least half decent meals! So after chewing the road through a large margarita and a mojito faster slipped to bed very early, still a little fucked up from the previous day monstrosities.

The second day was a massive conference in politics and history for me. Although normally this concept would make me tremble with fear and despair, as I said before I am completely trapped by the fact that this teeny little specifications on the Earth's surface has contributed both to the history of mankind. We had a little fun but first get a taxi to the Plaza of the Revolution in a classic, bright purple (my favorite!) 1950 Buick with a driver being made more perplexing to pose for many a cheesy snap! The Plaza is a bit bare, unfortunately with only 2 things to see. First, the José Martí memorial statue in front of the lookout Mass, who came to get some views of the city and see a lot of fear vultures circle around it. And secondly, my favorite part – The huge image Che on the side of the government building with 'To Victoria Siempre "(Always Forward Towards Victory), written together. I have a bit of an obsession with Che that honestly, it's strange to think that was hot? Naked anyway because it felt good to stand on many political rallies and addresses of Castro and other revolutionary occurred.

After that error we got a taxi (see photos) to the National hotel (very smart!). It was fun seeing so many people to time to hire mercenaries and crops and we went on a little yellow stain! Here we had a mojito looking across the water to where we had been the day before and then set off on a little walk along the promenade, where he eventually went to the Museum of the Revolution. This figure everything you need to know about Cuba from dawn of time. At some point it was really quite bizarre the amount of detail added – "Here's the scoop Castro used while hiding in the Argentina "- no kidding! But it was fascinating. I do not bother to say much about it (as I've given my brief history of Cuba), but one of the highlights was the "Wall of geeks" by thanking various political idiots for their contributions to the cause / consolidation of the revolution. I really do not give a insulting shit!

The next day we had more of a stressful journey by bus (6 hours – 1 stop WC) to a supposed beautiful city, although the colonial friendly first impressions does not seem to be the case. The bus ride showed some really nasty, run down areas that lack the charm of Havana, and on arrival to the bus station crowd of people were literally being subject to harassment us. They were advertising, not "houses" – the equivalent of hostelling in Cuba is to stay at home with a Cuban family who cook and provide for you, but everything seemed so threatening to me. So we got into a taxi and headed for the hotel 'The Cuevas "(caves). Any doubt about the coming days in this place soon dissolved when we saw where we were staying was lush! We dumped our luggage and went straight to the pool sampling local delicacies – mojitos, pineapple drinks hills and strange place red, orange and blue called Trinidad Colonial, that he liked. We managed to make friends with a local group at any time that feeds us more rum and snacks and give us lessons in salsa. I was very behalf and after my set of classes that I was in my "I'm sad, lonely and desperate and need to learn salsa to satisfy phase lonely and desperate people sadder" but I did learn a new step that was nice. He also had the opportunity to laugh at my mother completely uncoordinated. Then at about 5pm, in question 3 minutes the sky was covered with thick black clouds and the heavens opened. I've never been to a tropical storm before and I just absolutely hilarious – the whole area was flooded after 2 minutes of rain, however, is still boiling bloody and people kept on dancing and pool! I asked my new best friend Tiago how long do these storms to which he replied "That depends on San Pedro" – can not argue with that!

For our first full day in Trinidad we got up early and put our team to walk sexy and headed for the mountains on a hike with another unfairly beautiful couple from the hotel and our lovely guide tour of Jordan, who sounded like Borat when he spoke a bit was a little out of place but got used to it!
The first part was walking through the center of Trinidad, which was much more pleasant than it had seemed from the bus the day before – beautiful and colorful, with people all going in there current business issues or hanging on the doors, playing the guitar or the sale of fresh fruit. The second bit took us through some fields in the national park in the thick jungle and mountains. We walked about two hours finally ending in a beautiful waterfall and water reserve which Cuban children were jumping and playing. I abstained as always when it comes to water may contain living organisms. Although I did dip my feet and saw a huge lobster as unpleasant creeping in the background and concluded that he had made the right decision.
The walk back was not as fun. The midday heat was really successful in Trinidad and the city is on top of a hill and our hotel at the top of a hill to hill and energy levels were definitely lower at the end. Still we had a late once again poolside cocktails and salsa dancing so I can not complain! This evening after dinner (buffet slop hotel) we were invited to a show traditional Afro-Caribbean. 4 uber hot black dudes prancing around the stage doing crazy things like eating hot coals and pick the tables with his teeth. It was rather erotic and I can have left a small puddle in my seat.

The next day was our last day in the city of Trinidad and on their way at night to the mainland Ancon, about 30 minutes south of Trinidad on the coast. Yet we have done most of the morning at the hotel. Was in fact the caves for a reason and (as have guessed) this is because it was situated on a group of caves. One of them is open to visitors during the day and very funkily becomes a disco at night (Although I never went to this unfortunately). So my little friend Tiago took us on a tour of her that was just amazing! The stalagmites and stalactites to your heart's content – images could hardly salsaing people around! He did!
After that it was a little group but, as it seemed be the pattern here on the evening of San Pedro angry with us, so we decided we may well transfer to the new location, while the weather was bad. So we went around town (which at this time was like a river) and to the coast for a few days of sunbathing and chilling. On reaching the place seemed sufficiently good, but being an all-inclusive was a very different clientele, namely, idiot, drunk, the British burned. Well, I just saw one of these for be honest, a year old fat northern 50ish I was being rude to a man bar, but only really bothers me. I do not understand these people who only want to go on vacation to anything not really experience the country, treat the staff like slaves, and the abuse of unlimited alcohol available. Anyway, we checked and had a scan and was very disappointed to see that the 'beach' not really there, and there was actually a sand bar but did not extend to the sea. Compared to our last place where everything seemed just a bit, so sleazy. The sun was not quite back as they camped at the pool bar and a few drinks. My mother was not feeling very perfect, and too sensitive nature decided to drink a few to many pineapples and really start my boobs to be more enthusiastic about the place "I'm really warming to this place Alice, I'm really warming to it. Yes, I'm definitely warming to this place "… .. Then said he wanted to swim in the ocean before dinner. So a mother or investment drastic roll daughter who was doing his best for me less condescending as possible to explain herself to throw yourself off a small cliff edge to reach the sea when he was pissed as a fart was possibly not the best idea. Needless to say, a combination of his drunkenness and more emotional, and for me still a little wound and starts to feel a little sick culminated in us have our only argument for the participation of a lot of vacation "I'm just an embarrassment to you" and "we have booked a holiday Garbage bet you wish you were with your friends, "says … not nice …. In particular, the principle is not pleasant to feel bad I actually turned out to be food poisoning and I spent the next 12 hours in the bathroom while peeing out of my ass and vomiting. Not the highlight of my holiday.

But a new day. Feeling good of weakness on my night in the shitter I abstained from breakfast (if I saw a plate of eggs do not know what had happened), but walking I suddenly realized what an over reaction of the previous day had been. The place was magnificent. There was no drunken English people at all – only one who was only starting because he refused to serve him (and rightly so – the hell), and even better than they really are the beach! A great little almost deserted beach with a small bar behind him and a semi circle of stones around 100 meters where, according to the mother, was the best collection tropical fish I had ever seen. It was perfect for me to hit on my ipod, enjoy a brilliant book (no Hemingway!) And recover from my traumatic night, both My mother swam too excitable, and became a friend of any body which was 10 meters from us. Much better!
The next day we took advantage of the bicycles hotel and went bike ride along the peninsula. I have not been on a bike ride since I was 10 and after that I do not know why?! It was such fun! It is true that a bike ride surrounded by the sea on both sides on a path lined with palm trees is much more appealing than cycling in the A413, but it really should be more often! We stopped off at the tip of the peninsula, where a hotel and her mother jetted off on a boat trip to do some diving on the reef (which obviously did not – I will not go in to my fear of the sea here – you just make fun of me) and I had the opportunity to improve my 'stupid now obtain "as (Apparently the last 2 years working on solar really has not changed my opinion about skin cancer).

We had another morning on the beach after this before our move to Havana, was really ready for this. Anyone who knows me knows I'm obsessed with the sun is tanned, but all this "culture" malarkey really reached me and I was keen to return to Havana and learn more! At the end of the day I could get a tan in Lanzagrotty if she wanted a tenth the price (with the added benefit of catching an STI few), and my tan was more or less perfect by then anyway (if I do not mind being incredibly arrogant!)
The bus ride back was even more of a fucking nightmare that round. 2 hours longer than it should have been, quieter (so that people standing), road closures, etc, etc. Also when we got to Havana it was so late that there were no taxis at the bus station that will lead us to a hotel, and it was bloody raining again! After almost everyone else on the bus had managed to take a taxi (which need to be more aggressive!) finally returned to the beautiful Beltran and had a gourmet meal prepared cous cous bathroom and settled into bed ready to take full advantage our last day.

Havana next morning, suddenly seemed 100 times more amazing than it was when I was there 9 days before (and was a very surprising then). Just mooching around soon I had horrible "before 5pm this afternoon this is going to be over" feeling. And I was not ready. Trying not to let it remain, walk through the beautiful streets of Old Havana by the cathedral square where we had to change first mojito life, and the promenade where it was decided it was time to face the hustle and bustle of the markets and buy some souvenirs and tacky pressi a beret Che Guava is the most important course. Then we went to look first, a new discovery that was a street that appeared in all the paintings of Havana, which were sold in the market. This was a street with a sign hanging that says "La Bodeguita del Medio" which was a small bar where Hemingway used to hang out and apparently many other celebrities I was also there as the wall was covered with pictures and signatures. It took us very well planned our next point of call. The Hotel Ambos Mundos, where Hemingway was when he was visiting. They have kept her room exactly as he had when he ran and you can look around. Also the roof of this hotel has a bar, so we went there and whiled away the rest of our afternoon with a drink there, basking in the city, with excellent views and the company delightful.

On our walk back to the hotel for our transfer something occurred to me. These were the capital city streets and had people sitting at the gates is flattering people playing guitars and singing and dancing around, children playing baseball, women hanging their washing out there windows. This would not happen in another site, ever. Can you imagine walking around London chatting to people, dancing with them, children playing? I bet that 99% of Londoners do not even know that there is next Name neighbor! And this was communism – everyone equally, all working as one team, no greed, no corruption, a real community. And I thought 'I could do this "- I could live in an" ideal "world, perhaps, prefer the countryside – where the houses each have a chicken and a piece of land to grow vegetables. But you may live well. I've always been against people who earn more money than doing conceivable satanic work effectively making money by screwing other people – bankers, lawyers, etc. And I've been against the situation that is born to reflect to what extent can do in life (I know it is not intended to be, but it is). And I love the ideal. Everyone gets the same, provided the work, which make and receive as a benefit a perfect education system, perfect national health service, a government-run everything perfect and complete sense of patriotism. Real patriotism – not only hit another nation's football fans patriotism.
I started thinking about England and wondered why he wanted to continue living here. A country in our call "Left wing" Prime Minister (who apparently is Gordon Brown now, no, Tony Blair, already) spent 2000 pounds of British taxpayers' money a year on cleaning its stupid amount of houses also paid by the State. And when Vicky Pollards white trash with money leaks 10 babies out of the welfare state, while complaining of Asians "bloody and posts – come over here taking our jobs and tax money." Shit pay taxes why do not they authorize it? I prefer that I have that fat ass Keith Miller of the world. It really is disgusting and I do not want to be a part of it.

But of course, Cuba does not have ideal. The dream is there and I think I probably worked before the Eastern Bloc dissolved, but then again if you really can not support themselves as a single unit then communism did not he.
Personally I think one of the major problems in terms of why things are not working as well as they should comes from tourism. It is true that saved the country from famine, but has created a host of problems and people apparently divided to two types of personality. Type one are mainly the older generation, still very much in favor of Castro. They remember and appreciate living well post revolution, special period of pre (Between the fall Eastern Bloc and the beginning of tourism), and also appreciate the tourists who saved your ass when things look pretty bleak. They therefore treat tourists with gratitude, respect and kindness. The second type, what I am calling the "next" generation of Cubans, seem much more cynical and secure they receive is really "fair." These people are really resentful of tourists often to the point that they are just rude (turning her back, scaring etc.) I think the problem is that they are aware of what life was like before. All they see is these rich idiots, with their fancy clothes, digital cameras and flash cash available to throw around, traveling to see all the different cultures and places. Everything that can not and what could be if things were different. I guess you piss me off.

Another major problem with tourists in leasing is the discrepancy in what people earn in terms of whether they work in the tourism industry or not. Money is a bit complex but Cuba has two currencies – local pesos and convertible pesos. Tourists are only eligible to use convertible pesos each convertible peso is really worth 10 pesos Cubans. So actually if I had to go to a store and buy a bottle of water – this would cost me that PB1 (about 50p) and a Cuban 1p (ie, about 5p). So effectively they are charging ten times more tourists from all that remains always seems reasonable (2 mojitos tended to be about 5cp – £ 2.50 – Not bad!). This means that when you tip someone at a bar, for example 1CP – receiving around £ 5.00 worth out of it yet only costs 50 pence. I think this is absolutely genius and I can not see why other countries have not caught on. In Thailand, why not charge £ 5.00 for a meal instead of 50p?! Tourists will continue to pay £ 5.00! However people in the tourism industry, with its suggestions, get a lot more money available than any other which leads to inequality in the village – communism is not everything. Take for example the scene of the trip we made excursions to the mountains of Trinidad. The cost this was each for a total of 14cp 7cp and watch as our guide kept us from 9am to 2pm in the scorching heat enthusiastically talking all the time, we had a shout and 20cp told him to keep the change. So they 6CP – £ 3 to us, worth £ 30. This makes you feel good as a tourist. Have a tip of that value is not much that makes you a huge difference to local life. In fact, his monthly salary at 300p is actually told him 5 out of what they would earn in a month. Really crazy. However, you think all doctors and teachers outside their slave donkeys etc and see nothing like that to them. Where is the incentive to work then? This is not fair and it's where it really the system collapses. Could definitely feel some unrest and I think especially now that Castro has resigned, big changes are underway. I guess if you I recommend thinking about going to go as soon as possible. (Listen to me to make political predictions when 2 weeks ago did not even know what communism really meant!)

Anyway, enough of politics and back to reality. Damn I wish I could, but I am hooked! Six months ago, to spend all my time looking Google and Che Guava "communism for dummies" or writing blogs ridiculously long that nobody will read (except maybe Sam – and even he probably will you bored by now), would have been nice as I had Nout best thing to do. But now I do, such as revising for these exams bastard, and this new obsession found is greatly reduced productivity is at stake!

Yet the party (which is what was the end of the day) was a great success. Me love to go back there and see and do more of the same, and like so many places I've been I say that one day. But then I realize that to return to somewhere I have already been means sacrificing a new site I can get obsessed with the moment to the next location … .. etc etc

About the Author

i am .. pale and want a hair color …?

Ok, so I'm Irish and German im pale and have blond hair .. everyone is always like you need a tan .. but I can not burn tan. I used to go tanning but skin cancer isn't worth it .. but I wanted to dye my hair .. now his Natural blondes .. I wanted to go darker .. not black but darker, but everyone says it looks bad .. heres a link to my photobucket .. color photo of what you think .. and please im not asking if .. I am pretty or ugly just want to know what color hair darker than you think will look good like .. .. Thanks and please .. I do not hate or be rude .. imo takes courage to post your image online for all to see ~ http://i636.photobucket.com/albums/uu87/missA_B/Picture204.jpg I accidentally made a double post i BC got a message saying weird Yahoo! responses was not working = (and I like the turquoise color commentary. Im in the military so, why evolution short and if I was not id like to do pink high lights but i cannot ..

go ginger i think you'll look good with dark red hair

Myth:Dark Skinned People Don’t Get Skin Cancer