Word: junkings
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...Feelings of guilt are a gift from our conscience. They remind us that the first thing we ought to do is make choices we can live with. We can use our guilty pangs to make changes, even small ones (less TV but more bedtime stories, no junk food or violent video gaming), that improve our kids' lives. Says Harriet Lerner, psychotherapist and author of the terrific book The Mother Dance: "Healthy guilt helps us get in touch with our core values, and it can inspire us to change our behavior...
...Yesterday things got worse. Wall Street and Main street weighed in: and the news wasn't good. Credit rating agency Moody's Investor's Service downgraded United's senior debt rating to 'junk' - a hit that will not only force United investors who are forbidden to own junk bonds to dump the stock but also raise borrowing costs for the company. And just a few hours later, the Attorney General of Minnesota, Mike Hatch, announced he would fight the United-US Airways merger even before it's complete. Hatch said, on behalf of the state, he would sue the airlines...
...Partly that's because the director, Luis Mandoki, who made the ghastly Message in a Bottle, balances the movie's sentiment with a good, tough view of a cop's life both on the job and (especially) off duty. He's good with the hard kidding in bars and junk-food emporiums. Mostly, though, the movie works because Lopez gives such a terrific performance. She's a vulnerable hard-ass, lonesome but damned if she'll admit it, forgiving in some relationships, unforgiving in others...
Even if the FBI's conduct proves to have been more careless than venal, the charges call attention to more serious problems that have led to 95 exonerations in capital cases since 1973, problems such as corrupt prosecutors, lying jailhouse snitches, incompetent forensic experts, junk science and racial prejudice. Will people be prepared to support the next execution if they have even the faintest doubts about the last...
...without being seen, of plowing two or three miles through deep snow and trackless wilderness to avoid the grandstand, the starting gate, the shooting range and all the other skiers. That'd be tricky, but it's doable. Then just throw my skis and rifle and all my other junk in the rental car and drive like hell back to Jackson Hole, change my flight and head back to sweet, sweet Jersey. No more skiing. No more hills, no more lactic acid hell. Just hug my wife, play with my kids for a while, take a nap on the couch...