Category Archives: adventure

{Dating} Writing A New Chapter

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Life has a way of moving on and healing our wounds. We cannot have happiness without pain. They go hand in hand. A life without pain is a life not lived. There are those who sit safely at the road side and never dare to get on the track. Then there are the dreamers who keep on running until their dreams run out.

I’d like to believe that I am a dreamer and that I will run as far as my surviving heart will take me. My Mama use to tell me “If you believe in yourself, anything is possible in this world. You my child can do anything that you are brave enough to dream up.” We are braver than we think we are and smarter than we could ever imagine.

I have to be brave, some days being brave is the only thing I have to hold on to. Take dating for instance, to me dates are always like job interviews. You exchange the niceties, job info, life status and so on. Over the past few years I have become guarded and do not spew my life story on first date. Instead I choose to hand it out one layer at a time. Some parts have caused men to run and others chose to stay. Part of me realizes that when I go on a date, I compare every detail of a mans life to Charlie’s life. Charlie is the good that I know and I also take side notes to see if the guy could turn out like the ex husband.

In away I am lucky. Lucky, because I know what worked and what didn’t. Then again I also know what its like to have your heart tore out and stomped on. I have been humbled by the fact that Charlie loved me until his last breath. Charlie showed me that it was possible to love someone with every fiber of my being. He showed me that no matter what happens to us, our love never dies. That love does not disappear when we are gone, it lives on. Love is our legacy.

An I am writing a new chapter in my legacy. I am putting one foot forward and following my heart. Internet dating sites turn my apartment into my own little speed dating session. With the click of a mouse I can say yes or no and move on to the next profile. Truth: I can stand in front of thousands and shout to the world, yet I clam up like a Louisiana oyster on a first date. So for me a string of emails breaks the ice and lets me know what I am getting into. Most of the time I get bored and that string leads to nowhere. But, sometimes I get lucky and meet the person in real life. Well sometimes real life isn’t the best either, there is a reason why I have a google number.

Then there are those moments where I quite the voice in my head and say “just be AmandaJean. Stop analyzing and jus be.” An that is exactly what I did one steamy August evening. I peeled a few layers of my story off over dinner and slowly let a country boy walk into my life. An for now he is a keeper and with each new day another chapter is penned on the pages of my life.

{Ninjas} Shrinkable When Wet

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With each new year comes change. For me 2012 has been full of change I started a new job, became an Aunt and lost my best friend. I’ve had moments of sadness following by un-containable joy. In January I decided to follow the words I’ve been preaching and to truly embrace a heart healthy life style. My pants were to tight, my stomach was not awesome, and mostly I didn’t feel like me. I needed to feel good in my own skin and to like the girl standing in the mirror. Fuck, I needed to love the woman I saw in the mirror.

That’s me! My photo was taken at the Go Red for Womens Health Luncheon in Minneapolis MN.

I haven’t been a twig since the fifth grade. In truth I it was never in my genes for me to be a twig. My sister she is slender and I am not. I got the Ojibway genes. Ojibway women have baby making hips and small waists. Over the years I have had to come to terms with my body type and embraced my curves. After all slender girls have tiny boobs and I like the rack I am carrying around. Thou they do get in the way when I am playing golf and doing other things. Mostly I came to terms with the fact that I cannot change the genes I was born with. However I can choose to live a healthy life. Because when you are healthy you are happy.

For me I wanted to get back to my pre-stroke self (I still hold out hope for my old life). In reality I will never be the way I was before my stroke. I have to move forward and do the best I can with my broken body. Running, aerobics, and lifting heavy weights are things I will never be able to do again, my poor lungs can’t take it. On the bright side I have two feet and God made those feet for walking. Lucky me I live near Calhoun and have a little dog that loves to explore the path around the lake. Each morning we suit up, put our shoes on (well my shoes), and head on down to the lake. I take him for an extra long walk at dusk too.

Walking was my exercise so I checked that item of my list and set out to tackle my food. I am not going to lie, I love cookies, chips, cheese, bacon, and everything else they say is bad for us. I am normal, normal just like you. However I knew something had to give because my kidneys were not liking the salt and I felt yucky. Lunch was an easy thing to change. One of the benefits of working in downtown Minneapolis is the skyway. The skyway has so many lunch options and the food trucks are like heaven on the street. I didn’t bring a lunch to work, instead I ate out every single day. My wallet and my waist line protested. One of the disadvantages of working in the burbs is that you are not close to anything and have to drive somewhere to get lunch. Truth: I am lazy, once I am at work I do not want to drive somewhere for lunch and come back to the office. Laziness worked in my favour and I pack a lunch each day. Packing a lunch totally controlled my calorie intake and my waist line finally stopped protesting.

Shameless Bathroom shot! August 2012. Down two pant sizes! Hip Hip Hooray!

Before I knew it my pants became to big and I was pulling them up as I walked around the office. I did this discretely of course, Girls you know the shuffle, yea I perfected that. By June I was down two pant sizes. I repeat TWO pant sizes and thank God my boobs didn’t shrink! Bras are expensive and well for the price of one bra I could buy two pairs of pants. I am a frugal girl at heart. My coworkers started taking notice and I finally liked the girl I saw looking back at me in the mirror. I am not a stick, my pants size is till in the double digits. Pant size doesn’t matter to me. What matters is how I feel in my own skin.

Each of us should feel incredible in our own skin and love the person in the mirror. Take it from me, it takes work to stay fit and to eat healthy. There is no such thing as a magic pill or an instant fix. So ignore the infomercials and the ads in the magazines. Put your heart into it and soon you will see results. I look at it this way, I only have one body. My body thanks to the birth control I used is fucked up. I have to live with my broken body for the rest of my life, I don’t have a choice. However I can choose to treat it well and then maybe one day it will only be a little fucked up. Regardless of whether or not you are living in a fucked up or healthy body, you need to take care of yourself.

Remember that Ninjas are shrinkable when wet and an after brisk walk glow looks good on every body!

{Love Thy Farmer, Not Thy Brand} Historic PickWick Grist Mill

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Follow the Great River Road from Minneapolis to Southern Minnesota and beyond. Along the road you will find many hidden gems and tid bits of our states history. Hwy 61 is lined with dozens of brown historical marker signs. Most signs will lead you to historical markers that tell you about days gone by. Take the turn off to Pickwick, I promise you will not be disappointed. Nestled along the river sits a 6 story limestone brick grist mill.

The Pickwick Mill was built from 1856 to 1858 by Thomas Grant and Wilson Davis. It is one of the oldest water powered grist mills in southeast Minnesota. Pickwick is Constructed as a gristmill and sawmill on the banks of Big Trout Creek. The mill ran 24 hours a day during the Civil War and produced 100 barrels daily for the Union Army. After the war, the mill became a flour-milling center for most of southern Minnesota and portions of Iowa and Wisconsin.

Pickwick mill was built from locally quarried limestone, with a timber frame that was so closely fit, that nails were not used except to nail the floorboards down to the joists. The six-story building was severely damaged in 1907 when a tornado took off the roof and top storage room. The mill was then retrofitted with a flat plank roof. The mill’s roof has been restored to reflect the originl design.

$3.00 gets you in the door. Pickwick is a self guided tour and the mill is filled with fantastic artifacts of our nations milling past. The elevator only carries grain, so you will have to walk all six fleights of stairs yourself. The friendly staff are happy to turn on the educational video (yes I said video) and answer any questions that you may have.

So travel the river road, let the brown signs be your guide, and pull off in Pickwick for a glimps of days gone bye.

PickWick Historic Mill Tourist Iformation
Location Address:
24813 County Rd. 7,
Winona, Minnesota 55987

Days and Hours of Operation
The Pickwick Mill will be open
* Weekends during May, September, and October
* Tuesday through Sunday during June, July, and August
Hours of operation:
10AM – 5PM Tuesday through Saturday
11AM – 5PM Sunday
Tours at other times available by appointment. Call 507-457-0499,
507-457-3296, 507-457-9658

Ticket Purchase
Tickets cost $3 adults, $2 teenagers over age 12, $1 children age 12 or under. Group tour prices available.

For more informtion visit: http://www.pickwickmill.org

{For the Love of Cheese} Bass Lake Cheese Factory

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If you have found yourself without weekend plans I have a suggestion. Minnesota is right next to the dairy state and let me tell you “there is nothing like handcrafted Wisconsin Cheese!” The state of Wisconsin is littered with small family owned cheese factories and dairies. Lucky for us Minneapolis is pretty darn close to the Bass Lake Cheese Factory. I actually found Bass Lake a few years ago by accident. I got lost on my way to Somerset and stopped in for directions, now I go there on purpose.

Bass Lake Cheese factory has been a Wisconsin staple since 1918. Today the state of Wisconsin has less than 200 cheese factories, many of them are automated and no longer make cheese by hand. The old-fashioned traditions of cheese making are a live and well at Bass Lake. The Cheese Master continues to use traditional recipes and techniques to create an amazing variety. Hastings creamery supplies Bass Lake with the milk that is needed to create the different types of cheese. You can’t get more local than that, Bass Lake is truly a gem in the dairy state’s crown.

Have you ever wondered how long it takes to make a good quality cheese? I know I have. During my visit I chatted with the very friendly counter staff and they gave me a brief lesson in the art of cheese making. I learned that it typically takes about 8 hours to make cheese and that all cheese is actually white. Yellow was used if the cheese was of the cheddar variety and white signaled that the cheese was a jack. Today the same coloring system is still used to identify the different types of cheeses. No worries, the dye is vegetable based and is chemical free. “I like the sound of chemical free cheese, I want cheese in my cheese, not chemicals with my cheese.”

The staff at Bass Lake are very helpful and love to answer questions. If you have a question about a certain cheese or need help pairing it with wine just ask. Bass Lake is known for their Butter Jack, no butter is not in the cheese. Butter Jack is similar to Monterey Jack however it has a richer creamier flavor. They even have CHEESE CURDS! What, you’ve never heard of the curd before. Well then you’ve come to the right blog. Curds are cheese that has yet to be pressed into a solid block. You can eat cheese curds straight out of the bag or you can dip them in beer batter (Yes beer batter) and deep fry them. Trust me once you sink your teeth into a curd, you’ll never look at cheese the same way again. At Bass Lake curds come in plain or flavored. Plain curds make me a happy girl, however when I am feeling a bit daring I will go for the Cajun flavored curds.

In addition to fresh cheese Bass Lake offers made to order sandwiches, pizzas, soft serve ice cream and cool drinks. They have a good selection of beer and wine to go along with the cheese you bought. The factory also sells an array of jams, jellies, and syrups from local Wisconsin companies. The best part of the factory is the viewing window that looks into the factory. Yes, you can watch them make cheese and stroll through their collection of antique cheese making equipment. Bass Lake has a large deck outside and welcomes bikers. So why not get lost and find your way to the Bass Lake Cheese Factory.

If you don’t want to get lost, here is the address:
Bass Lake Cheese Factory
598 Valley View Trail
Somerset WI 54025

or visit them on the web: http://www.blcheese.com

{Broken Vacuum} Tears and Absurd Laughter

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Last Friday night I looked down at my floor and thought “My God this carpet looks gross and needs to be vacuumed sooner than later.” My vacuum has been failing me for a while and I knew something had to be done to fix the thing. I am incredibly smart but extremely unhandy. AmandaJean and Stanley tools do not go together. Well that was the case until Charlie showed up on my door step with a set of pink tools.

The pink tools sat unopened in my hall closet, just waiting for me to have a moment of I can do this. At first I couldn’t find my tools and ripped the closet apart looking for them. Then I looked up there they were far above my head pushed to the back of the top shelf. Reaching on my tippy toes I managed to pull them down along with a few other things that fell on my head. I was determined to fix my damn vacuum. The muppet had a “What the fuck is mom doing” look on his face and quietly sat under the coffee table.

Armed with my screw driver and a swift bout of determination I took on operation fix the damn vacuum. I did the obvious first and emptied the bin thingy. That didn’t help so then my next step was to check the hepa filter and still no suction. Any normal person would have checked the brush head. I am not normal after a few minutes of swearing I did just that. Holy crap there was my problem. The brush head was covered with string fur, and what ever else I managed to pick up with it. Wrestling with the brush head and cutting it loose from its prison still did not help with the suction. Tears began to fall and I was starting to give up.

Give up to the point where I wanted to throw the thing out and run to Target to get a shiny new vacuum. Giving up is never an option for me so I took a few deep breaths and felt the hose. The hose was hard and I had a feeling that this isn’t normal. Through my tears I began to take the hose off the vacuum as I was doing this clumps of dust fell to the floor. Soon I had it completely detached from the vacuum and it took me about 40 more minutes to remove the rest of the crap from the hose. I put the hose up to my eye much like a telescope I could see clear to the muppet. To me this was good and I set into the task of putting my vacuum back together.

The sound I heard was the sweet noise of suction as I ran the vacuum across the living room floor. My floor looked less dingy and my God I was finally able to vacuum up the fake needles from my christmas tree. Who knew fake trees could shed so much. I cracked a smile and that smile led to absurd laughter. I thought to my self ” I AmandaJean, just fixed my fucking vacuum all by myself.” I actually did something handy and almost feel brave enough to tackle a hammer. Well maybe not so much, baby steps. I need to pace myself on this fix it adventure.

Fixing a vacuum may not seem that big to you. However to me it is huge. I am normally a girl who runs to someone for fix it help. Or I throw the item out and head to Target for a shiny new one. Here I was covered in dust from head to toe vacuuming my floor. To me my vacuum is no longer just a vacuum, it is a symbol that I am capable of doing things on my own. That as long as I take a deep breath, pause and believe in myself I can do anything.

{Charlie’s Eulogy} Good Bye My Sweet Friend

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Good bye is never easy. Maybe this is why the Ojibway people do not have a word for good-bye. My Father always tells me see you later because there is no such thing as a good-bye. One someone leaves us our hearts are filled with pain and our minds are left wondering why.

Why is something I have uttered numerous times over the past few days. I got angry with God and dared to ask why the fuck Charlie. Of all the people on this earth you could have called home, YOU chose to call home my best friend. Maybe God didn’t realize how much we needed Charlie. How much Charlie meant to each and every one of us. Like many of you in this room I loved Charlie more than words can say. We’ve been in this place before. We’ve said good-bye before. This is where we said good-bye to Charlie’s brother Connor. Those two were something else and they meant the world to me. Now my world is dim and my faith is hindered.

Our wold will never be the same. Charlie was one hell of a man and he was an even better friend. He stood up for those who could not stand. Charlie gave a voice to the silent and he fought like hell to bring a little justice into this world. When I think of the word ‘Attorney” I will always picture Charlie. He lived and breathed what he practiced. Not to mention he kept me up late at night proofing his drafts and before each court appearance I’d give him a pep talk. I’d tell him “Go Charlie Go! You can do this! You are smart now get in there and show them what your made of!” Charlie would chuckle. I do know he won more cases than he lost. So that is all the proof we need that he was one hell of an attorney.

Charlie was an attorney who loved to play board games and you had to play by his rules. Charlie and I would play board games into the wee hours of the morning. He told me once “AJ all of life’s problems can be solved with a board game and a shot of whiskey.” I think Charlie was on the right track. The outside world seemed to disappear with each roll of the dice. As crazy as it seems board games were the perfect distraction and would often lead to deep conversations. Either that it led to me being tipsy and Charlie’s wild laughter filling the condo. I still say he cheated and I never learned how to drink whiskey like a man.

Charlie had a wild streak in him and was always searching for his next adventure. His adventures found him navigating the streets of Europe, climbing the lime stone cliffs of the midwest, and skinny dipping in Lake Superior. He could make the most mundane things into an adventure. Charlie loved working with the Native Youth and supported out-door adventure programing. I watched him teach young kids how to rock climb, wind surf, and survive in the woods. Charlie mentored and encouraged children to seek a college education. He wanted them to seek adventure and to live a life that dreams are made of. He believed that anything was possible.

Charlie lived a life that dreams were made of and he fought like hell to make sure each one of us had an amazing life too. He was our personal cheer leader always encouraging us on to the next peak. Charlie didn’t believe in settling and if you settled he’d give you hell for it. Life is a journey worth taking.

You may have noticed that Charlie has quite a few things in his casket. A few were put there by me. Connect Four. As we all know Charlie’s favorite game was Connect Four this one happens to be special and goes along with the photo of the Muppet Like Dog. You see late one night Charlie and I were so into our game we forgot about the muppet. So the Muppet like dog took it upon himself to chew on the checkers. That was the only night I ever beat Charlie at Connect four.

Charlie loved Cullen. When he was in town I would come home to a note that read “Kidnapped Cullen. He needed some quality man time. Collect at your own risk as we will be sitting naked on the couch drinking beer! Love Charlie and the muppet like dog.” I am going to miss coming home to a ransom note and having to interrupt man and muppet like dog time.

Charlie was an amazing man and I am greatful that I got the chance to call him my friend. Charlie taught me to reach for the clouds, to bust through glass ceilings, and to have faith again. He was one of the greatest things to ever happen to me and my life will never be the same.

We are lucky because God sent us an Angel and not everyone gets to play with an angel on earth. One thing can be said for Charlie he lived a life filled with risks, love, laughter, tears, honor, and adventure. He lived a life with no regrets and we should do the same.

{Charlie} Board Games and Life Lessons

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I can honestly say that I have been to more funerals than I have weddings. I have been to more wakes than baptisms. On my way home from work today I realized that I have out lived three of my dearest friends. Days like Thursday I faced the sun and dared to ask “Why?” Why God do you keep taking my friends away. Then I paused for a moment and thought “maybe I just know how to befriend earth-bound angels. Maybe God saw that their purpose was served and he called his weary travelers home. Home to rest on the clouds of heaven.

I didn’t want to go home after work and I knew I had to go to Charlie’s condo. I wasn’t ready so I drove out to the Mall of America and walked around for a few hours. The mall was filled with groups of friends, laughter and smiles. I didn’t feel like smiling. Inside I was dying. I wanted my best friend back. Not even gummy butterflies could turn my frown into a smile. It was getting late so I headed home to get the muppet like dog and we drove over to the Ivy.

As I walked in the door man greeted me and asked “Hey AJ! How are you. Charlie must be home early if your here tonight.” I lost it right there in the lobby. I looked at him and said Charlie isn’t coming home. “Oh Mr. Charlie staying in NYC permanently?” No sir, Charlie died this morning. He won’t be coming home. The doorman walked me to the elevator bay and gave me hug.

That was the longest elevator ride ever and it felt weird walking into his condo. Things looked different to me and it didn’t feel the same. It didn’t feel like Charlies home any more. His coffee table was filled with board games and playboys. The throw blanket on his couch still smelled like his cologne. Cullen was walking around looking for him and I said “Charlie isn’t coming home pal. Our Charlie is gone.” Cullen scampered off as I curled up in the blanket breathing his scent in. Looking out at the Minneapolis Skyline. The view is why Charlie loved living in The Ivy.

I laughed a little, Charlie use to tell me “AJ the moment you fall a sleep is when the fun begins.” That is when he’d hijack my twitter account and tweet my secrets or that nights sleep conversation to the world. I’d fall a sleep next to him as he was drafting documents for and plotting his plan of action for his next big court date. He’d tell me “AJ in you I’ve got the best of both worlds. I’ve got a best friend who is also my paralegal.” Best part is I don’t have to bill you for your proofing and drafting expertise.”

The Black’s Law Dictionary sat next to connect four on the coffee table. I ran my fingers across the box and the tears began to fall. Charlie loved that game and I remembered how excited he was when he bought it. I sat on the floor watching him pop out the plastic pieces and explaining “Charlies version” of the game. If you lost you had to take a shot of whiskey. I swear he cheated. I was the one taking the shots and getting tipsy. He’d look at me wild-eyed and would let out a roar of a laugh. I realize now that playing board games was a distraction from the outside world. When we sat on the floor he was not a lawyer and I was not a paralegal. We were simply Charlie and AJ best friends for life.

The muppet was being super quiet so I got up to investigate. I found him curled up in one of Charlies sweat shirts that he left on his bedroom floor. I nelt down beside him. His eyes looked so sad he huffed a little, the tears began to fall again. I patted Cullen’s head and said “I’m gonna miss him to pal.”

As I sat next to the muppet I kept hoping that Charlie would burst through the door. He didn’t it was just me and my muppet like dog. I quickly glanced at the clock it was almost midnight and I had to be up early for work. So I scooped up Connect Four and a few other things that would be put into his casket. I made sure everything was the way Charlie left it and said goodbye. I have so many good memories in that condo, I hope the next person loves it as much as he did.

Our friendship grew out of horrible circumstances and in the end it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. Charlie saw me through the hard times and cheered me on during the good times. Charlie was my rock, my bartender, psychologist, partner in crime, and mostly he was my best friend.

Facing My Shadow In The Sun

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Everyone comes to a point in their life where they are standing in the middle of a four-way. Do you go forward, turn to the right, turn to the left, or do you turn around and go back the way you came. It doesn’t matter which direction you choose. Whats matters is that YOU faced your shadow in the sun.

I’ve had quite the journey. There are days where I look back on my life and think “wow I can’t believe I did that!” Even I am at awe with what I have accomplished and how far I’ve had to come to find my cross roads. The road was filled with struggles, distractions, love, heart-break, and tears. I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything. Because the moments are what make me who I am.

Sitting still is something I could never do. Maybe its my ADD or my desire to move up. I thirst for adventure and challenge feeds every fiber of my soul. When I am no longer challenged boredom seeps in and I go searching for a new adventure. Lately I have been given the opportunity to interview for jobs out-of-state. Moving away from Minneapolis would be an awesome adventure and a challenge. Part of me wants to go right for adventure. Yet part of me wants to stay and watch my niece Sophia grow. I do not want to be that aunt she only sees on holidays. I want to be the one who stands by her side and teaches her to say “Mommy no no purses…..I’m hungry! Sophia needs food” when standing in the purse department of a store.

Stores are something I judge a city by. I have decided that I can live somewhere as long as they have a Bulls Eye in their town. Trader Joes would be nice, however I can live without it as long as there is another organic market to choose from. Corn fields are meant to be conquered. After all Children Of The Corn is just a silly movie. The muppet has no preference to where we live. That is unless there isn’t a dog park. He won’t do a city unless they have a dog park. He informed me of this yesterday. Silly dog.

Then again Minneapolis is full of Bulls Eyes, Trader Joe’s, skyways, and of course dog parks. We can’t forget the muppet in this city choosing equation. I love this city and the people that live here. Well maybe except for the cyclists that ride their bikes down the middle of the road. You I don’t like, because I feel like I am going to hit you with the Prius. An well maybe people who walk really slow in the skyway. They bug me too. Part of me wants to wait it out and see what the giant firm will do. The other part of me knows that if they haven’t made a move now, they never will. This is my chance to take what I’ve learned and prove myself to another firm. One that understands how smart I am and that my passion for the law lies deep. I want to be a change maker and some day I’ll be known for just that. For now I am happy that people know me as one hell of a paralegal that never gives up.

Don’t get me wrong I love my current job. However dealing with my coworkers and getting thrown under the bus is getting old. It seems no matter where I go people try to bring me down. As the assignment wears down I fear that more of them will try to run me over. Tire tracks do not look good on me. I am tired of dodging buses and light rail trains. So I find my self at a cross-road. Facing my shadow in the sun and wanting something more. The question is do I go forward or do I turn around and go back the way I came.

Leave Your Comforts At The Door

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In life we become comfortable and forget what it feels like to be out-of-place. We have a routine and get use to how things are. Forgetting what things could be and how open the world is. Closing ourselves off to opportunity and fearing the tides of change.

Change can be scary as it rolls in and when it recedes we realize how beautiful it is. Boxes try to hold us in and its lines provide us with comfort. A calm that is routine and as long as you’re standing inside the world is ok. Then there are those of us who punch through the box and stand outside the lines. Out here its scary, the safety net of the line is long gone, and only you can change the room your standing in.

The question is do you leave your comforts at the door and say goodbye to the box. Or do you stand inside clinging to any remaining shred of routine as the bright lights expose your secret. Your secret is, YOUR afraid of the unknown, afraid of walking without a net, and mostly afraid to leave the box behind.

{29} Happy Birthday!

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Me and My Mama at my Birthday Lunch


Wow I can’t believe that I am one year closer to 30. I guess when you have all ready been through a life time of shit it means everything is down hill from here. I may only be 29, however I have lived a life that dreams are made of. Sorrow reminds me that I am human. Each night I ask God to keep my son Alucious close and to make sure Nylan turns out all right. I’ve been a wife, a mother, a best friend, a sister, a paralegal, an advocate, a lobbyist, and now I get to be an auntie to Sophia.

Survivor is a label I wear proudly. I tirelessly advocate for heart health, stroke symptom awareness, and healthy kids. There is one thing I’ve learned : I would trade all of my money in a heart beat if it meant I could have my health back. Money can buy me things that will make me happy. However it cannot buy my health. Wealth is no fun when you do not have health on your side. So take it from me. Take care of yourself. You only have one body, one heart, and in the end money will mean nothing. But your health will mean everything.

I’ve struggled with the fact that my health will never be the same and that this is the body I have to grow old with. My body has brought me to some pretty darn amazing places over the past year. It has brought me to DC, the gulf coast, NYC, and countless other locations. It has allowed me to share my story and save lives. Life is the ultimate gift and I am so very glad God has granted me with one more year upon this earth.

It is my hope that the next year is filled with goodness and big amazing things. If I dare to dream then I can dare live a big meaningful life. People try to knock me down, rip my reputation apart, and spread the words of incapable across the firm. That alone gives me strength to prove that I am 1. a bigger person, 2. a professional, and 3. I will out shine the {redacted}. I have something he will never have and that is class. One can’t lie their way into class. They can only fumble when their lies start to unravel and unravel they will. I may not be there to see it. Yet I will smile silently at his blunder and step over him on my way to the top. The only place I am going is up.

Up. Thats where I am headed. I’ve got two jobs that I love. One requires more effort than the other. A speaking schedule that can’t be beat, a book deal on the table, and well my lawyer tells me we are winning. I’d say that’s some pretty darn awesome sauce. Not to mention this here blog isn’t doing to shabby either. People like to read about my antics, dating blunders, cry with me, and say fuck it. I swear online as I swear in real life. I am nothing but myself and I am human. Humans swear and they like it too!

Fuck it. I am in a relationship with myself. I have no time for dating. I want to but I have no life outside of work. It’s bad my friends have to remind me that we have dinner dates and nights of ninja antics. My goal for year 29 is to work a little less and have what you regular folks call a social life. A social life sounds interesting and wow taking trips for fun sounds like a gosh darn good plan. Who knows maybe there is a man out there who is brave enough to step into my world and take me on. I’m not holding my breath. Thats why I have the muppet to keep me company.

So Ninjas a toast! Goodbye 28 and Hello 29. May year 29 be filled with good friends, endless opportunity, laughter, adventure, and mostly love. Thank you so much for being a part of my life. Each and every one of you means the world to me. Know that I care about you and love you more than you will ever know. Ninjas for ever. May we go down kung fu fighting!