The strongest people aren't always the people who win, but the people who don't give up when they lose..2014 might have been a rough one for you but I say be strong for 2015 holds better for you...As we count hours to 2014...Miz.Faith wishes you a happy and joyous 2015...see you at the top
Wednesday, 31 December 2014
Thursday, 18 December 2014
WOKE UP TODAY FEELING TOTALLY AWESOME....THANKS TO GOD WHO HAS GIVEN ME AND YOU LIFE....WHAT IS YOUR DRIVE?
WHAT INSPIRES YOU TO BE THAT GREAT PERSON THAT YOU ARE?
THAT YOU HAVE BEEN PURPOSED TO BE...
YOU ARE GIVEN THIS LIFE BECAUSE YOU ARE STRONG ENOUGH TO LIVE IT.
GOD HAS PROMISED YOU A BLESSED END..IT WONT BE EASY I MUST SAY BUT IT WILL SURE BE WORTH IT.
BE INSPIRED
Posted on 23:56:00 by Unknown
Friday, 12 December 2014
Every one of us needs ways to get over failure in life.
Unfortunately, in societies obsessed with achievement and success,
failure seems to be the worst thing that could happen to a person. In
fact, failure is commonplace in life and it’s important to learn how to
get over it. Don’t let the fear of failure ruin your life, follow these
tips on how to overcome your failure and hopefully they will help you.
Often failure can be a sign that you are on the wrong track. Maybe
you need to move in an absolutely new direction. Don’t think that you
can’t change anything in your life, you can. You need to overcome your
fear of failure and move your life in the right direction.
I admit it, I’m a big overthinker and when something bad happens, I
overthink it the whole day and night and I can’t stop thinking about it.
For me, the most effective way to get over failure is to occupy my
mind. I occupy myself with the things I’ve always wanted to do or things
that must be done. Occupy your mind and think about the present, not
the past. Reading books, painting, volunteering are all good options to
try.
However, you are not
alone and I’m sure that you have at least one person who can help you
overcome your failure. If you don’t have anybody, then pray. The power
of faith is enormous. I know many people don’t believe in keeping faith,
but my faith has always helped me through the hard times and it has
helped me to get over a few large failures in my life. Give it a try
before telling that it’s useless.
No matter how big your failure was, you shouldn’t dwell on it. You
should learn from it and move forward. I know it’s easier said than
done, but you can’t change your past and the only thing you can do is to
learn from your mistakes and never make them again. How did you get
over your failure? Share your tips with us, please. Who knows, maybe you
will help someone.
Source:AMERIKANKI LIFESTYLE.
1. Learn from your mistakes
One of the best ways to get over your failure is to learn from it. Don’t make the same mistake again. Just because you failed once doesn’t mean you will fail again, but you can’t get over failure if you don’t realize your mistakes. Learn the lesson your failure gives you and make sure you move on.2. Take a breath
Now, I’m absolutely serious. Taking a few deep breaths can help you calm down and think clearly about your situation. Unfortunately, many people never use this tip, but from my personal experience I can say that it really works. Your life doesn’t end with only one failure. Just don’t allow it to destroy your peace. Keep your peace no matter what and try to stay calm in any situation.
3. Choose a new direction
Often failure can be a sign that you are on the wrong track. Maybe
you need to move in an absolutely new direction. Don’t think that you
can’t change anything in your life, you can. You need to overcome your
fear of failure and move your life in the right direction.4. Occupy your mind
5. Pray
If you are alone, your situation may seem worse.6. Reflect on how it all went wrong
Every failure is actually another opportunity for growth. Failures and mistakes help make you stronger, always remember about it. But you will never get over your failure if you don’t realize what actually went wrong. Take time to think about that and find out real reasons of your failure.7. Don’t let others bring you down
I’ve had a lot of disappointments in the last three years. From failed relationships to not getting promotion, I have failed in almost every aspect of my life. However, I will never allow anyone to bring me down or make me feel desperate simply because something went wrong. Never, ever give anyone the power to destroy you and make you feel ‘less than.’ No one is perfect and everyone makes mistakes, so embrace yourself because you are a wonderful and smart person that can achieve almost everything in life!Source:AMERIKANKI LIFESTYLE.
Posted on 04:21:00 by Unknown
Thursday, 11 December 2014
I guess majority of us know Bill cosby the popular African American:Here is a picture of him..
This is Beverly Johnson's' story that i just read online about him;She says.....
Like most Americans, I spent the 60s, 70s, and part of the 80s in awe of Bill Cosby and his total domination of popular culture. He was the first African American to star in a dramatic television series, I Spy, a show my family in Buffalo, New York, always watched. Cosby cut a striking figure on-screen then. He was funny, smart, and even elegant—all those wonderful things many white Americans didn’t associate with people of color. In fact, as I thought of going public with what follows, a voice in my head kept whispering, “Black men have enough enemies out there already, they certainly don’t need someone like you, an African American with a familiar face and a famous name, fanning the flames.”
Imagine my joy in the mid-80s when an agent called to say Bill Cosby wanted me to audition for a role on the The Cosby Show. Cosby played an obstetrician, and he sometimes used models to portray pregnant women sitting in his office waiting room. It was a small part with one or two speaking lines at most, but I wanted in.
I was in the midst of an ugly custody battle for my only child. I needed a big break badly and appearing on The Cosby Show seemed like an excellent way of getting Hollywood’s attention. I’d appeared in one or two movies already, but my phone wasn’t exactly ringing off the hook with acting jobs.
Cosby’s handlers invited me to a taping of the show so I could get the lay of the land and an idea of what my role required. After the taping I met all the cast and then met with Cosby in his office to talk a bit about the hell I’d been through in my marriage. He appeared concerned and then asked what I wanted from my career going forward. He seemed genuinely interested in guiding me to the next level. I was on cloud nine.
I brought my daughter to the next taping I attended. Afterward, Cosby asked if I could meet him at his home that weekend to read for the part. My ex-husband had primary custody of my daughter at the time, and I usually spent my weekends with her. Cosby suggested I bring her along, which really reeled me in. He was the Jell-O Pudding man; like most kids, my daughter loved him. When my daughter and I visited Cosby’s New York brownstone, his staff served us a delicious brunch. Then he gave us a tour of the exceptional multi-level home.
Looking back, that first invite from Cosby to his home seems like part of a perfectly laid out plan, a way to make me feel secure with him at all times. It worked like a charm. Cosby suggested I come back to his house a few days later to read for the part. I agreed, and one late afternoon the following week I returned. His staff served a light dinner and Bill and I talked more about my plans for the future.
After the meal, we walked upstairs to a huge living area of his home that featured a massive bar. A huge brass espresso contraption took up half the counter. At the time, it seemed rare for someone to have such a machine in his home for personal use.
Cosby said he wanted to see how I handled various scenes, so he suggested that I pretend to be drunk. (When did a pregnant woman ever appear drunk on The Cosby Show? Probably never, but I went with it.)
As I readied myself to be the best drunk I could be, he offered me a cappuccino from the espresso machine. I told him I didn’t drink coffee that late in the afternoon because it made getting to sleep at night more difficult. He wouldn’t let it go. He insisted that his espresso machine was the best model on the market and promised I’d never tasted a cappuccino quite like this one.
It’s nuts, I know, but it felt oddly inappropriate arguing with Bill Cosby so I took a few sips of the coffee just to appease him.
Now let me explain this: I was a top model during the 70s, a period when drugs flowed at parties and photo shoots like bottled water at a health spa. I’d had my fun and experimented with my fair share of mood enhancers. I knew by the second sip of the drink Cosby had given me that I’d been drugged—and drugged good.
 |
| BILL COSBY |
This is Beverly Johnson's' story that i just read online about him;She says.....
Like most Americans, I spent the 60s, 70s, and part of the 80s in awe of Bill Cosby and his total domination of popular culture. He was the first African American to star in a dramatic television series, I Spy, a show my family in Buffalo, New York, always watched. Cosby cut a striking figure on-screen then. He was funny, smart, and even elegant—all those wonderful things many white Americans didn’t associate with people of color. In fact, as I thought of going public with what follows, a voice in my head kept whispering, “Black men have enough enemies out there already, they certainly don’t need someone like you, an African American with a familiar face and a famous name, fanning the flames.”
Imagine my joy in the mid-80s when an agent called to say Bill Cosby wanted me to audition for a role on the The Cosby Show. Cosby played an obstetrician, and he sometimes used models to portray pregnant women sitting in his office waiting room. It was a small part with one or two speaking lines at most, but I wanted in.
 |
| BEVERLY JOHNSON |
I was in the midst of an ugly custody battle for my only child. I needed a big break badly and appearing on The Cosby Show seemed like an excellent way of getting Hollywood’s attention. I’d appeared in one or two movies already, but my phone wasn’t exactly ringing off the hook with acting jobs.
Cosby’s handlers invited me to a taping of the show so I could get the lay of the land and an idea of what my role required. After the taping I met all the cast and then met with Cosby in his office to talk a bit about the hell I’d been through in my marriage. He appeared concerned and then asked what I wanted from my career going forward. He seemed genuinely interested in guiding me to the next level. I was on cloud nine.
I brought my daughter to the next taping I attended. Afterward, Cosby asked if I could meet him at his home that weekend to read for the part. My ex-husband had primary custody of my daughter at the time, and I usually spent my weekends with her. Cosby suggested I bring her along, which really reeled me in. He was the Jell-O Pudding man; like most kids, my daughter loved him. When my daughter and I visited Cosby’s New York brownstone, his staff served us a delicious brunch. Then he gave us a tour of the exceptional multi-level home.
Looking back, that first invite from Cosby to his home seems like part of a perfectly laid out plan, a way to make me feel secure with him at all times. It worked like a charm. Cosby suggested I come back to his house a few days later to read for the part. I agreed, and one late afternoon the following week I returned. His staff served a light dinner and Bill and I talked more about my plans for the future.
After the meal, we walked upstairs to a huge living area of his home that featured a massive bar. A huge brass espresso contraption took up half the counter. At the time, it seemed rare for someone to have such a machine in his home for personal use.
Cosby said he wanted to see how I handled various scenes, so he suggested that I pretend to be drunk. (When did a pregnant woman ever appear drunk on The Cosby Show? Probably never, but I went with it.)
As I readied myself to be the best drunk I could be, he offered me a cappuccino from the espresso machine. I told him I didn’t drink coffee that late in the afternoon because it made getting to sleep at night more difficult. He wouldn’t let it go. He insisted that his espresso machine was the best model on the market and promised I’d never tasted a cappuccino quite like this one.
It’s nuts, I know, but it felt oddly inappropriate arguing with Bill Cosby so I took a few sips of the coffee just to appease him.
Now let me explain this: I was a top model during the 70s, a period when drugs flowed at parties and photo shoots like bottled water at a health spa. I’d had my fun and experimented with my fair share of mood enhancers. I knew by the second sip of the drink Cosby had given me that I’d been drugged—and drugged good.
The Editor’s Note read: Cosby’s attorneys did not respond to Vanity Fair’s requests for comment.]
My head became woozy, my speech became slurred, and the room began to spin nonstop. Cosby motioned for me to come over to him as though we were really about to act out the scene. He put his hands around my waist, and I managed to put my hand on his shoulder in order to steady myself.
As I felt my body go completely limp, my brain switched into automatic-survival mode. That meant making sure Cosby understood that I knew exactly what was happening at that very moment.
“You are a motherfucker aren’t you?”
That’s the exact question I yelled at him as he stood there holding me, expecting me to bend to his will. I rapidly called him several more “motherfuckers.” By the fifth, I could tell that I was really pissing him off. At one point he dropped his hands from my waist and just stood there looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
What happened next is somewhat cloudy for me because the drug was in fuller play by that time. I recall his seething anger at my tirade and then him grabbing me by my left arm hard and yanking all 110 pounds of me down a bunch of stairs as my high heels clicked and clacked on every step. I feared my neck was going to break with the force he was using to pull me down those stairs.
It was still late afternoon and the sun hadn’t completely gone down yet. When we reached the front door, he pulled me outside of the brownstone and then, with his hand still tightly clenched around my arm, stood in the middle of the street waving down taxis.
When one stopped, Cosby opened the door, shoved me into it and slammed the door behind me without ever saying a word. I somehow managed to tell the driver my address and before blacking out, I looked at the cabbie and asked, as if he knew: “Did I really just call Bill Cosby ‘a motherfucker’?”
Why that was even a concern of mine after what I’d just been through is still a mystery to me? I think my mind refused to process it.
The next day I woke up in my own bed after falling into a deep sleep that lasted most of the day. I had no memory of how I got into my apartment or into my bed, though most likely my doorman helped me out.
I sat in there still stunned by what happened the night before, confused and devastated by the idea that someone I admired so much had tried to take advantage of me, and used drugs to do so. Had I done something to encourage his actions?
In reality, I knew I’d done nothing to encourage Cosby but my mind kept turning with question after question.
It took a few days for the drug to completely wear off and soon I had to get back to work. I headed to California for an acting audition. Not long after arriving, I decided I needed to confront Cosby for my own sanity’s sake. I thought if I just called him, he would come clean and explain why he’d done what he had.
I dialed the private number he’d given me expecting to hear his voice on the other end. But he didn’t answer. His wife did. A little shocked, I quickly identified myself to her in the most respectful way possible and then asked to speak to Bill. Camille politely informed me that it was very late, 11:00 P.M. and that they were both in bed together.
I apologized for the late call and explained that I was in Los Angeles and had forgotten about the three-hour time difference. I added that I would call back tomorrow.
I didn’t call back the next day or any other day after that. At a certain moment it became clear that I would be fighting a losing battle with a powerful man so callous he not only drugged me, but he also gave me the number to the bedroom he shared with his wife. How could I fight someone that boldly arrogant and out of touch? In the end, just like the other women, I had too much to lose to go after Bill Cosby. I had a career that would no doubt take a huge hit if I went public with my story and I certainly couldn’t afford that after my costly divorce and on going court fees.
For a long time I thought it was something that only happened to me, and that I was somehow responsible. So I kept my secret to myself, believing this truth needed to remain in the darkness. But the last four weeks have changed everything, as so many women have shared similar stories, of which the press have belatedly taken heed.
This is sad,what do u think?
My head became woozy, my speech became slurred, and the room began to spin nonstop. Cosby motioned for me to come over to him as though we were really about to act out the scene. He put his hands around my waist, and I managed to put my hand on his shoulder in order to steady myself.
As I felt my body go completely limp, my brain switched into automatic-survival mode. That meant making sure Cosby understood that I knew exactly what was happening at that very moment.
“You are a motherfucker aren’t you?”
That’s the exact question I yelled at him as he stood there holding me, expecting me to bend to his will. I rapidly called him several more “motherfuckers.” By the fifth, I could tell that I was really pissing him off. At one point he dropped his hands from my waist and just stood there looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
What happened next is somewhat cloudy for me because the drug was in fuller play by that time. I recall his seething anger at my tirade and then him grabbing me by my left arm hard and yanking all 110 pounds of me down a bunch of stairs as my high heels clicked and clacked on every step. I feared my neck was going to break with the force he was using to pull me down those stairs.
It was still late afternoon and the sun hadn’t completely gone down yet. When we reached the front door, he pulled me outside of the brownstone and then, with his hand still tightly clenched around my arm, stood in the middle of the street waving down taxis.
When one stopped, Cosby opened the door, shoved me into it and slammed the door behind me without ever saying a word. I somehow managed to tell the driver my address and before blacking out, I looked at the cabbie and asked, as if he knew: “Did I really just call Bill Cosby ‘a motherfucker’?”
Why that was even a concern of mine after what I’d just been through is still a mystery to me? I think my mind refused to process it.
The next day I woke up in my own bed after falling into a deep sleep that lasted most of the day. I had no memory of how I got into my apartment or into my bed, though most likely my doorman helped me out.
I sat in there still stunned by what happened the night before, confused and devastated by the idea that someone I admired so much had tried to take advantage of me, and used drugs to do so. Had I done something to encourage his actions?
In reality, I knew I’d done nothing to encourage Cosby but my mind kept turning with question after question.
It took a few days for the drug to completely wear off and soon I had to get back to work. I headed to California for an acting audition. Not long after arriving, I decided I needed to confront Cosby for my own sanity’s sake. I thought if I just called him, he would come clean and explain why he’d done what he had.
I dialed the private number he’d given me expecting to hear his voice on the other end. But he didn’t answer. His wife did. A little shocked, I quickly identified myself to her in the most respectful way possible and then asked to speak to Bill. Camille politely informed me that it was very late, 11:00 P.M. and that they were both in bed together.
I apologized for the late call and explained that I was in Los Angeles and had forgotten about the three-hour time difference. I added that I would call back tomorrow.
I didn’t call back the next day or any other day after that. At a certain moment it became clear that I would be fighting a losing battle with a powerful man so callous he not only drugged me, but he also gave me the number to the bedroom he shared with his wife. How could I fight someone that boldly arrogant and out of touch? In the end, just like the other women, I had too much to lose to go after Bill Cosby. I had a career that would no doubt take a huge hit if I went public with my story and I certainly couldn’t afford that after my costly divorce and on going court fees.
For a long time I thought it was something that only happened to me, and that I was somehow responsible. So I kept my secret to myself, believing this truth needed to remain in the darkness. But the last four weeks have changed everything, as so many women have shared similar stories, of which the press have belatedly taken heed.
This is sad,what do u think?
Posted on 13:26:00 by Unknown
Tuesday, 2 December 2014
The power of forgiveness can never be over emphasized...I for one am a typical case.There's this good feeling you get when you let go totally of the hurts family,friends,colleagues and everyday people leave with you.
Unforgiveness is a stench;a very bad one that you should never have with you.I love the feeling I have and the reaction I get from people who think that they've got me to be so hurt when they see me happy and as though notthing ever happened..You should forgive and let go if not the person whom you're angry with has total control of you..How long is your time here that you have the strength and the energy to quarrel and keep malice...
It aint easy to let go off some bad hurts but it is worth it!!!
Forgiveness is the greater one.
Posted on 23:30:00 by Unknown
Monday, 1 December 2014
Late-night meals may interfere with your memory, a new study has warned.
The study in mice found that eating during times of day when one would normally be sleeping impaired the animals’ memory for objects they had seen, even when the rats got the same amount of sleep as mice on a normal eating and sleeping schedule.
Study co-author Christopher Colwell, of the University of California, Los Angeles, and a team of researchers acclimatised mice to a normal sleep
schedule, sleeping during the day. Mice are nocturnal, so they are normally awake at night and asleep during the day.
Then, the researchers allowed some of the animals to eat only during the time they were typically asleep, while allowing others to eat when the animals would normally be awake, ‘LiveScience’ reported.
The mice on the misaligned eating schedule had shifted sleep times, but they still slept for the same total amount of time, ate the same amount of
food and weighed the same as the mice that ate at normal times, Colwell said.
The researchers then tested the mice’s memory. In one experiment, they put the mice in a box with two different objects, and allowed them to
explore.
Then, after putting the animals on different feeding schedules, the researchers placed them in the box with one of the familiar objects and one new object, and measured how long the mice spent exploring each one.
Compared with the mice on the aligned eating schedule, the misaligned mice showed a significant decline in memory.
The animals on the altered feeding and sleep schedule spent more time exploring the familiar object, suggesting they didn’t remember encountering the object before In a second experiment, the researchers conditioned both groups of mice
to feel fear in a certain location, and later put them back in that location to see if they showed fear.
The mice on the shifted eating schedule froze less often in the fearful situation than their normal-schedule peers, suggesting the odd eating and
sleeping schedule affected the animals’ memory of scary situations.
The researchers also found that the mice that ate during normal sleeping periods learned less quickly than the mice that ate at normal times.
The study was presented at the annual meeting of the Society for Neuroscience in Washington, DC.
The study in mice found that eating during times of day when one would normally be sleeping impaired the animals’ memory for objects they had seen, even when the rats got the same amount of sleep as mice on a normal eating and sleeping schedule.
Study co-author Christopher Colwell, of the University of California, Los Angeles, and a team of researchers acclimatised mice to a normal sleep
schedule, sleeping during the day. Mice are nocturnal, so they are normally awake at night and asleep during the day.
Then, the researchers allowed some of the animals to eat only during the time they were typically asleep, while allowing others to eat when the animals would normally be awake, ‘LiveScience’ reported.
The mice on the misaligned eating schedule had shifted sleep times, but they still slept for the same total amount of time, ate the same amount of
food and weighed the same as the mice that ate at normal times, Colwell said.
The researchers then tested the mice’s memory. In one experiment, they put the mice in a box with two different objects, and allowed them to
explore.
Then, after putting the animals on different feeding schedules, the researchers placed them in the box with one of the familiar objects and one new object, and measured how long the mice spent exploring each one.
Compared with the mice on the aligned eating schedule, the misaligned mice showed a significant decline in memory.
The animals on the altered feeding and sleep schedule spent more time exploring the familiar object, suggesting they didn’t remember encountering the object before In a second experiment, the researchers conditioned both groups of mice
to feel fear in a certain location, and later put them back in that location to see if they showed fear.
The mice on the shifted eating schedule froze less often in the fearful situation than their normal-schedule peers, suggesting the odd eating and
sleeping schedule affected the animals’ memory of scary situations.
The researchers also found that the mice that ate during normal sleeping periods learned less quickly than the mice that ate at normal times.
The study was presented at the annual meeting of the Society for Neuroscience in Washington, DC.
Posted on 20:38:00 by Unknown
Hi!!!!
So glad to be back here,its been a long long time and that's my bad...I'm so so sorry.
Been a great year so far,thank God for this new month and the last of 2014...Yayyyyyyy!
God has been so faithful,Wish you a great month of December and its so goin to be your best month so far in this year 2014...God's doing new things,extraordinary in your life...God bless you richly!!!
So glad to be back here,its been a long long time and that's my bad...I'm so so sorry.
Been a great year so far,thank God for this new month and the last of 2014...Yayyyyyyy!
God has been so faithful,Wish you a great month of December and its so goin to be your best month so far in this year 2014...God's doing new things,extraordinary in your life...God bless you richly!!!
Posted on 11:39:00 by Unknown
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