Office Quotes of the Day

So Jonathan and I were riding back to the office today and we see a kid with Down's Syndrome walking up the sidewalk. 

And ol' Jonathan says something along the lines of, "Why do his parents dress him like he's special needs? I mean put him in a damn suit, not high waisted pants and red suspenders! They're just asking for trouble"

I have to agree with him. Then again, maybe the kid demands red suspenders. 

Earlier today, Ticky is telling us about going to the doctor for bruising and spots. Keep in mind, she's 75. The doctor tells her that at her age it's going to happen because her skin and blood are thin. Ticky says in her impeccable southern tongue "I told him no, that won't work for me. He's gonna need to fix it". 

I love that she thinks he can reverse time, or add layers of epidermal cells. Oh to be well aged, southern and powerful. 

24 hours in ATL, the recap

This weekend I went to Atlanta to visit friends. The view from the patio was beautiful...

After a great evening of catching up, drinks and accidental vegetarian pizzas I fell asleep in the comfort of familiar company. Waking up late and groggy we walked across the street for brunch...

            (68 pages of drinks...)

We were supposed to go to Music Midtown, but we got rained out.  The show went on, we didn't. Instead, we laughed, drank and noshed. And then we napped...

It's excellent to have such wonderful friends! Almost everything we say could become a popular tshirt slogan. In addition to their infectious humor, they are beautiful, successful and supportive. Part of the time I just sat back and watched, selfishly realizing how lucky I am to be surrounded by people that despite the world, have grown up awesome. 

Exploring New Hobbies

Things my friends suggest to channel my emotions and solitude... (And my feelings toward them)

1. Yoga (Sounds relaxing. And suitable, good suggestion)

2. Racket ball (also decent, although my plastic surgeon suggest I don't participate in any activity where balls fly at my nose. Okay that's totally from Clueless, but it's sound advice)

3. Start a collection. (we've ruled out cats, but flair and tiny ponies are still strong contenders. 

4. MMA (if I don't want balls flying at my nose, for fuck sake why would I want fists flying at my face?!)

5. Murder (as soon as I locate an understanding pig farmer, that moves to the top of the list!)

Keep those ideas coming, pals!!

Resurfacing.

Finding your voice can be difficult. Taking the retribution for your voice can be damaging. Acknowledging your worth takes practice. Fighting for self preservation can be exhausting.

I try to never make myself look like a victim. I don't share my stories for pity or protection. I share them to break the silence. I speak in case someone needs the courage. I speak because silence is a casket. It's a fucking death trap where you drown in your misery and solitude. Or at least that's how my silence feels. 

Maybe yours feels like puppies and kittens. Good for you. Stay silent. 

Everything in me knows my past is a burden to myself and often other people. No one wants to know the magnitude of evils the world is capable of. And I've worked long and hard to fight and hide from those evils. I won't be made to feel guilty for owning my past and knowing that repeating it would be a folly of my own creation. 

Someone told me tonight, "you think you're SO unique and SO wounded... you're so wrapped up in what you think is your tough story, as well as your sick dependence on your friends..." The person continued on about my alleged short comings and the reasons why I'm not a fit and honest person. 

I must admit, it's never easy when someone's true feelings about you surface in such a volatile way. But I harbor no ill feelings toward his definition of my character. I do not understand him anymore than he understands me. But as I stare at this impasse I am thankful for my unique and wounded soul, as well as my sick dependence on my friends. For through it all, they have held me up.

UPDATE: The original post had to be edited/deleted but I saved these comments from a couple dear friends:

Inappropriate text conversation, Take One

(Best pic stitch ever, btw)

Being offensive is one of the things I do best... It's a blessing and a curse. 

My perspective might be skewed.

So, I got a lease renewal faxed to me with this cover sheet...

And I thought... Woah! This chick is renewing her lease from rehab!? That's so responsible I'm not certain she actually needs rehabilitation. She is totally a high functioning substance abuser. What's so wrong with that?! I know sober people with their shit less together. 

Then I realized her mom is a doctor there. 

Biggest disappointment. Ever. 

Carnival music can't be wrong... It feels so right.

Today at work I did a "hell yeah" fist punch into the air...because cake.

In doing so, my shirt lifted just enough to show part of the hand print tattoo on my right hip. A coworker was standing just behind me, and on my right side. They caught a glimpse of the tattoo and said "um, what the hell was that."

"A tattoo.  Of a hand."

"Seriously? That's interesting placement"

"Yep, like an instruction manual is the joke I generally get"

Other coworker "wait, you have a hand print, on your hip, that looks like its gripping you?"

First coworker "Please don't tell us there's an 'insert here' tramp stamp... Step right up!" 

Que carnival music and a highly inappropriate dance jig.

So many great memories involve carnival music, and that my friends speaks volumes.

My magical life keeps getting better...

Cheers!