5000 Units Heparin Convert To Ml

Children
attack I have to confess that we Peruvians love rice near my house is a Thai restaurant that I frequent for the fact that I can find rice every time I go, on Saturday afternoon, at lunchtime, I was there, and I noticed that many single mothers have become addicted to this place and now looks more like a kindergarten in the amount children who accompany their mothers to eat, despite this, I went to sit in the corner near the window as I always do, the waiters dressed in black were equally attentive, I ordered my favorite dish / rice fairly as you can imagine / and an orange juice if ice, always ask, I feel that when I put ice cubes in drinks stolen.

Something always happens to me is: the kids hit me, all my friends have noticed, I'm like a magnet for them, I never discovered that my approach, rather than to any other person, my friends say: "I am a lucky to be loved by these little monsters", I have my doubts, lucky would be if instead of children of Monica Belushi hit me in this world.

Then my nightmare began when she winged the table turned to me, a little chubby, as output of a Botero box, wearing a pink striped chompita Heermann, blue corduroy skirt and tiny teeth and separated. I started looking at me as if the thing was not me, then jump to my desk, I had it before me, I was still eating super indifferent. Began to make me sign with his hands. Realizing the mother that I did not give her daughter ball, grabbed it and returned it to its place, but after a few seconds the little girl and was back at my desk, now I imitated every time I had food the mouth, she pretended to eat with a spoon also imaginary.

is that I will not be able to eat in peace, I thought the other children began to follow the scene and laughing, the mothers also seemed to have fun at my expense, the future mime was imitating me, if I settled the hair she repeated the Similarly, for the time I was in the middle of my plate, trying to finish and get out of there is actually "I love children, but never for more than a minute."
A boy who looked more like a carrot at her red hair, probably a descendant of Ireland, also came to my table, and of course - charge-lot, "he said.
then gave in and started to talking thinking he could have another mime in power. The chubby started clapping.
Why clap? - I asked
I thought you were dumb - responded with a coquettish laugh.
At that point had lost her appetite and ate reluctantly, improvised a story, they are not easily swallowed the story, and asking me questions, want more details, may not realize that some children are not wanted to tell questionnaires, but instead continued with the story, thinking about what are now enlarged to children, not realizing he had already joined a little boy with a face more Rugrats version Japanese, at least he did not question my story and had those freckles spoiled as the carrot wrapped in a yellow jumpsuit, so I started to grab love, especially when nodding whenever I spoke.

I thought about my wife left me only in London, and went to see an art exhibition in Devonshire, I regretted not having the willpower to cook my food had not been in the midst of such dwarf revejido now.

While eating the fatty occasion to speak, told us about Barbie dolls, which she apparently knew all about that world, while I was a zero on that topic.

the end I had finished my meal and asked for the bill, mothers were happy, I smiled from their seats, I wanted to yell: "Do I have babysitting face?" But my good manners will not let me cry, so the cry went imaginary, but easily could have been like that Munch painted.

finished my story with all its contradictions, at least something had to make my way after all, I got up and walked out while the children chanted "bye, bye!" and made their hands goodbye.
way out I remembered the New Testament and believe that Jesus was stark mad when he said: "Let the children come to me," sure that he did not stop it in a Thai restaurant trying to eat their rice.

On the street, I realized that I love the silence, the fall colors were beautiful, brown-orange leaves restful in wet green grass and the sun was a red ball hiding behind the clouds, I kept walking , while I reveled the autumn scenery and silence, though inexplicable reason I started missing those children five-yearlings and feel sorry for those mothers abandoned.

Sonicare Brush Head Smells

Stephen King the King of Terror

's 5 pm, I left work, I have a chat with Stephen King at 7 pm. I get home my brown shirt buttons rather boring and I have seen with my long-sleeved black shirt with white print that reads: "Born 2 Win", my friends say it seem a rebellious teenager and my friends an arrogant, I do not care The pole is a gift and I love it also if you have that stupid stamped on his chest, find the black jeans and fleece in the closet, I look in the mirror and think I look like a Stephen King fan, now I sincerely between PC and Mr. King did not know much, everything I read it was "on writing" which is a non-fiction book where the author gives some tips for being a good writer, I have also seen two films based on his writings: Misery and The Green Mile, apart from that I do not think you can argue a lot.
five minutes late to "Battersea Park Events Arena, the guys at the door greeted me and I show them my ticket, in a bar and after that the audience is incredible as the room is ready for a concert by the Rolling Stones, giant screens at each hand, the canopy roof is black and white lucesitas amount that gives an effect as happy to place. There are 3 000 people have today, the first thing I noticed is that everyone is dressed elegantly, there's no turning back and I'm dressed as a fan of Stephen King, at least I hope so.
A girl comes to me and help me confused, is 19 years old wearing the shirt of staff of Mr. King, has a horn-rimmed glasses and a pair of blond ponytails on the sides of the head, greeted me with kindness and asked whether help me find my seat ticket and give my thanks for the kindness, I ask if the daughter or relative of the author.
is that she has something of Mr King on his face, I say no, but came Estates with the entire delegation, I make a few jokes and laughs with subtlety, I said my seat and discovered that I am the last of the row, I make a comment on my bad luck and she encouraged me: you're here is important, many people did not get a seat, "he says.

No wonder the mega-event, remember that King has sold 100 million books, everything he does becomes a best seller, is also a hugely prolific writer has written more than forty books, if compared with the three who wrote James Joyce, for example.
When the interviewer enters the scene the first thing he says is, they need five people to fill the first row, see the "daughter of Stephen King "raise your hand and make the sign number one, then comes running takes me by the hand and leads me down the aisle of the media in search of that seat" gold ", as we walk I feel like I would be marrying a second time but of course this time no one has good wishes for me and the looks are with envy.
I left my seat preference, and I owe her smile again, Stephen King comes out and sits three feet from me in the midst of applause, that "milk" - I say. Mr King has
cherry shirt and blue jeans, his glasses are like champagne bottle poto, gruesísimos, is thin and tall, making us a comment of his boots, said it was a gift from John Grisham another American author, says that the use Grisham's friend who died in the Gulf War, and he uses it in response to the violence that exists in his country, is harshly criticized the Bush administration throughout the talk.
tells us that his new book "Lisey's Story" is very personal to him, is a marriage, the temptations of madness, the secret language of love.
says that when his wife read it said, "it was very personal and intimate and she looked at some of the passages in the book," then he said: "... if you would not publish it, I have enough money in my mind, and although for me it means a lot you are more important ... "
To which his wife replied," is too good not to publish it. "

The interviewer is small and curly hair, takes the microphone and remember to turn off their cellphones and take pictures is strictly forbidden, only accept the TV cameras and photographs from The Times, there are plenty of security guards surrounding environment .

Stephen complains that they have typecast as a horror writer, he does not feel well, blames the machinery, people read and libraries need to label it to find it on a shelf and then put it in the Thriller genre to things easier.
also feel that the press has become an arrogant, says ... "right now there is a fire and no one call the fire department that we all have cell phones off, we burned them all. Tomorrow dies out in the newspaper and Stephen King There are three thousand other ....", laughter of those present and continues with jokes of arrogance.
notice that Stephen has a great sense of humor, writing does not understand that terror is calm and very sharp with words. I also bought his new book, is the size of Bible, how to write this, I think, hopefully one day I read all this. King

After we read a few pages of his book, the host tells us that ticket raffle numbers, can not autograph Sthephen King 3 000 books, only make a hundred, the numbers appear on the screen, between the last out my number. I make the tail, when it's my turn, I greet with a handshake, has long bony hands, his skin color is very white, her hand is cold, when I'm going, I dare to photograph it, the devil's rule is Mr. King by God is not Edgar Allan Poe, I click my camera, security may well be the administrator of a Mc Donald, grabs me and takes my camera, Stephen calls it shows my security camera, two chatted for a while and watch the camera, then the security I surrender, I say, "... a BIG MAC please ...", but say nothing. I head for the exit, I check my digital machine and luckily for the few who read this blog have deleted the photo I took, I have the book under his arm with the signing of the author and the dedication with the name of a friend, I know it's a great lover of literature of the king of terror.





Photo: Stephen King
autographing Battersea Park Arena in London

Target Commercial Spanish 2010

Identity "I fell in the desert in flames" . "Who you? "" I do not know. You keep asking me, "he replies." You said you were human, "she says" The English Patient -





Nobody chooses their names, actually you could have called you X or Y, and most likely people you have loved or hated in the same way as they do now with your current name, whatever it is. They think I'm wrong?

Albert Einstein had ceased to be the genius of relativity if it had named Joseph, Marilyn Monroe or ceased to be the bomb sexy, sexual myth if it were called Norma Mortensen, I wonder if Hitler would be less hated if instead of Adolf had been called Tomas.

When I was 20, I embarked on a summer trip to Santiago de Chile, managed to climb up in the Brazil neighborhood in a small hotel for backpackers, the owners were an elderly couple, who were upset when I gave my honest opinion on the set of rooms, but of course after a few hours started to love, maybe that was the only guest in that huge house in the fifties. Perfect come to me because my budget was limited and 20 years do not think too much about the stars who received the overnight facilities.

After a week I met my friend Alvaro who offered me a room in his apartment on Avenue Apoquindo when I saw the amount of light coming in that bedroom, modern bathroom finishes, location, king size bed "I could not refuse to accept the offer and leave the old lady who had treated me so well.

put my old blue jeans in my backpack, some books which had among other things, tied my shoes puma and said goodbye to the couple. It was a shame that at that time still was a student and could not leave a tip, of having leftover money I had, but instead I left a copy of "I confess that I lived" Neruda.
last thing I remember was seeing them standing in the doorway of his small hotel with such kindness while saying goodbye I boarded a taxi black.
That night I went to a bar in Providence, a punk band enlivened the night with the sound I want everyone to become deaf "in the midst of it I met a very nice girl, one of his strengths was to take piscola had While Chile's face, black hair, brown skin, some freckles adorned her face, beady brown eyes, and a thirst Nazi.
Putting a couple of bills in my hand, I said buy me a piscola po, do not be evil, the goat of the bar and think that I should not drink-drank
While asked, he did?
-Currently working in an investment company and come to the bar when time but I may do both things with great dedication and hard work, "replied and continued" What I do is rather complicated. ... and the conversation went funny and entertaining,
friendship at that time was for me proof that there is something else strong ideology, religion, nations and borders.
The next morning I woke with a headache and breakfast in the table on the nightstand, of course it was not courtesy of Alvaro, he had the habit of bringing breakfast in bed to his friends and the clothes on irrigated room and the color red leather boots appeared that the girl who bathed should be the same fanatic piscola I had met the previous night and how serious the matter was that he did not remember his name, but did not know whether blames my bad memory or Chilean pisco, maybe a little of both.
I went to the room has to think, but the more he tried to remember his name, the harder it was. Luckily, between the sofa I found your bag, browse among rouges, powders mirrors and make up and found his credit card was printed Emma Solari.
Back in the room while she went out wrapped in the towel, I said,

"Hi Emma, \u200b\u200byou sleep well?

Emma, \u200b\u200bwho is Emma?

-I thought I should have a sense of humor quite rare, so I said: of course I forgot that we are Humphrey Bogart and Catherine Hepburn.

No, you are, and said my full name, if you do not remember, I showed your passport

"So last night I did?" I said with surprise

In response I received a contemptuous look, with a bit of hate also I guess, then I saw the red boots was walking out, the sun shone strongly through the window / of course the red boots were opposed to the blue jeans he was wearing / remembered the adage Peru: "Forget but not confuse me, "Peruvians are geniuses, I thought, but it was too late.

is that the name is so important? is not the same be X or Y?
identity is precisely the complex human response to the question "Who am I?"
And our names we like it or not, are part of our identity,
"forgetting a name is to dissolve the identity of the other" I took
breakfast with sadness, I left the room to watch TV and appeared in pajamas Alvaro accompanied by a blonde. -Oe
you were looking for yesterday, where were you "wueoon?,
ayyy .. sorry buddy, that rude not present, it is:

Emma Solari ... .. the name hit me like an elephant on the fifth floor - the blonde did an Saluditos hand-like those that make the beauty contestants in the middle contest as the judges drooling.
greet with affection, I looked into the sofa, the damn bag bronze buckles cream still in place: charming and refined as I had left minutes earlier.
Over the years I returned several times to Stgo. but those other times I had very clear the importance of names.