Someone wise told me “if you don’t like the room your in….change it.” The light in here was starting to dim and lemmings were starting to bring me down. So I took a que from one of my favorite movies: Fried Green Tomatoes. “To Wanda,” is what she yells when she rips down that wall and she tells her husband “if there isn’t a way, there is always To Wanda.”

A hard hat is what I need to get my remodeling project started. Out with the old and in with the new. I realize that all of my tools were in place and collecting dust. Its time I pull them out and use them. After all I didn’t spend $50,000.00 on a college education for nothing. Since I am paying for it, I mise well put my degree to use and let it work for me. So I punched a small hole into the wall and the light it came pouring through. Bright beautiful light that is full of opportunity. My work life is taking a turn in the right direction and my skills will be put to the test. Draft baby draft!

Now that I am a hard hat wearing Ninja. Fashionable I know, I thought what else can I remodel. Hmm ah I looked in the mirror, my curls they are my identity their staying. Then I took one look down, oye I need to get my rear to the gym. You know its time to wave the flag and head back to the center that helped you lose 30lbs, when you’ve put 15 of those pounds back on. I don’t want hips like a line backer and in my field looks do matter. So its back to medifast, the gym, and Calhoun I need to be a skinny ninja. I dusted off my polar heart rate monitor, my iPod, and headed out for a long ass walk. The lake it won, the scale is gonna lose, and I am gonna conquer this!

My work life and weight-loss plan are in place. What else can I remodel……..Well there is always my spinsterhood. I will leave that for another time, right now I am good with being a spinster.

My hard hat is on tight and my tool box is ready. Ready to knock down walls and take names without question. I am a hard hat wearing NINJA, hear me ROAR!

It didn’t dawn on me what today was until I peeled off April 21 from my Wizard of Oz desk calendar. I stared at the number 22 for a moment, shrugged and grumbled to a coworker about needing more sleep. I knew it was Earth Day and that, thank God it was Friday. Then I received a text from a friend saying “Yay your almost half way to 2 yrs of survivorship.” Then it dawned on me. Today marks 18 months since my pulmonary embolism and minor stroke.

18 months have come and gone so quickly. Life has been a beautiful disaster. A disaster I am greatfull for. There have been blunders and rants, followed by joy and triumph. I never stopped to ask “why did this happen to me,” instead I chose to ask “Why not me.” I am a firm believer that God never puts more on our plates than we can handle.

I look forward to my 2 year pulmiversary with great excitment

Here’s to another awesome 6 months and counting

Life Patiently Waits For Us

Seven Days ago, I wore a dress to work, the curly mess that I claim is hair actually looked great for once, and oh I had cute shoes on too, I looked date ready without even having one on the books. Good thing I looked date ready, because an email led to a text, which led to a date. Sweet, I thought I won’t even have to head home after work to change, go me! The universe was working with me today, double sweet!

However the parking Gods of UpTown were not on the same page as the universe, I drove around aimlessly looking for a stupid spot. Finally after 15 minutes I found one. During this time I contemplated just giving up and going home, however I am a woman of my word and well I had to get my date on.

You never know what type of people you are going to meet off the interwebs. They could be crazy, so shy that they don’t speak, or absolutely normal. Lucky for me my date was normal. The minutes ticked into hours, one drink melted into another and the conversation flowed naturally. This never happens to me ever, I always get the ones who don’t talk, have phobias, or just talk about how buff they are.

This one was different. Different in a good way. Travel stories were swapped, he asked me if I read books (um of course I do), I explained what twitter was and well of course my blog. This blog to be exact. He muttered the tittle of my blog into his memory so that he could check it out. Very cute I thought. So as the night drew on, my smile grew a little wider and I kept on thinking, this never ever happens to me ever, a normal guy, for a ninja like me. As any polite gentlemen would he walked me to my car and asked me out again.

Again on my short drive home, I kept thinking this never happens to me ever. It should be known that most men who read my blog, run. I don’t know why I guess I just have too much kung fu or something. The Irs Auditor didn’t run, he embraced it and continues to read it. (hey there’s a lot of info on here). Saturday went great, better than I had expected. On Saturday he proclaimed “I can’t believe I just meet you 48 hours ago, it never goes this well for me.” I thought to myself “Ditto on that one”

Seven days ago today I was sitting at The Independent having a cocktail with a stranger and had no big expectations. Today he isn’t a stranger, he now has a hashtag of #IrsAuditor on my twitter feed and endless conversations ensue.

I was recently asked to speak to a group of disadvantage women and motivate them to better their lives. Below is what I told them:

First, I want you to know that each one of you are worth it. It doesn’t matter what you did in your past, or where you came from, because today is a new start. You are a little wiser and older than you were yesterday, today we are going to find your inner ninja and let her fly!

I have been where you are. I know what its like to feel like the world is against you, to be in love with a man who just brought me pain, I’ve had those days were I couldn’t find the strength to go on. Let me tell you, my 27th year on this planet was the worst year of my life. Here’s why: 1. I almost died 5 days before my 27th birthday. 2: I was in love with a man who felt the need to emotionally and mentally abuse me. 3. My child died, nothing hurts more than losing a child. 4. I got divorced.

Many of you are recovering from drugs, alcohol, and lets just say the motions of life. I’ve never had a problem with those things. So now your probably wondering, huh what can she offer me? Just know that we all have our struggles, for me it was breaking free from an emotionally abusive husband. I realize now that walking through my child’s death gave me the strength to walk away from the man I claimed was my husband. That if my child hadn’t died I would still be in that house where his whores were more important than his family. I know what its like to be cheated on, lied to, and what its like to be told that I am not worth the ground I walk on.

I had to leave my marriage in order to find myself again. I remember the first time someone told me I mattered. I cried right at dinner. It had been years since I felt like I mattered to someone, damn it felt good. Struggle is a word that often lands at the back of my vocabulary, I don’t like to admit that I struggled, struggled with realizing that I was worth it. I know each of you are struggling, it’s a never-ending battle. Society will knock us down, what matters is that we get back up, and ride that horse out-of-town.

I want you to know that you matter to someone in this world. No matter where you go or what happens outside of this room. Know that a big-hearted small town girl from Minnesota BELIEVES in YOU and that YOU MATTER TO HER. I believe that each of you holds the power to change, to stand for something, and make this world a better place. When I was down, my friend Lisa would send me texts that said: ” I believe in you. You matter to me. Take my faith until yours is renewed.” Little did Lisa know, I was hanging on to her every world, that she was my strength, and she got me through the darkest hours of my life. I want to do for you what Lisa did for me, I am here for you, I will be your strength as you heal, you can borrow some of my faith until yours is renewed. You will find my number, email, and twitter on the back of my card. Don’t be afraid to call on me, I am here for each and every one of you. YOU are worth it to me and know that I have mad love for all of you. I don’t know you, but know that you are loved by me, that I believe you are all ninjas!

Do you ladies know what Ninjas are? I am not talking about the guys in black suits throwing chops and kicks. I am talking about that voice deep inside of you that takes over when your mind cant and pushes you through to the next day. Each one of you has a ninja deep inside. You need to harness that power, find her, and let her fly. Trust me she will never steer you wrong, when you don’t think you can go on, rip out that suit and slip it on. Remember that you are worth it and that you matter to me!

Now go out there NINJAS and show this world your Kung Fu!!!

I am a firm believer that we get back what we put into this world. I am not going to lie, I have no idea what it is like to go without, go hungry, or struggle in life. I came from a family who was blessed. For the longest time I thought every family had two homes, a classic car in the garage and 3 other cars in the drive way. My parents came from large families, where they were seen as farm hands not children, they came from nothing. Both knew that there was a better way and that their children would never go without.

Yet, they always taught my sister and I that there are people out there who are struggling. They taught us the power of giving and that no matter what happens in life you need to give back to society. To be thankful to God for the life we led, for the Calvin Kline jeans on our tush, the nikes on our feet, and the ice cream cone in our hand. They were always giving, giving back to our community. I firmly believe that this is the greatest lesson they have ever instilled in me.

I am grateful and blessed, I’ve seen god work in my life. The bible says that Jesus is going to come back someday. Indian people believe that the spirits visit us and test our worthiness. They don’t come to us in a clean-cut form, but in the form of a mother in need, a child so hurt they can’t see the sun and the homeless. In my life I have never turned my back on anyone who has asked or needed my help. I will be damned when my life is done and I find out that I turned my head away from Jesus or the spirits.

Some of you drive by the people holding signs at the top of the exit ramps on your way home and don’t give them a second thought. I keep dollars on me just for them. They may be professional beggars, if they are then well they are the ones who have to answer for it in the end. I figure if you are out their holding a sign you are in needed and if I can give you a little bit, then I’ve done my part to help you out. You may not notice the huddled mass hiding in the shadows when you walk down town. If you do you think to yourself, it’s not my problem that they are on the streets. Did you know that most of our nations homeless are war veterans, men who were long forgotten when the last bullets rang through the jungles of Vietnam. These men suffered to free a nation, war it is an evil thing, yet these men strapped on their boots and fought for their country.

I once handed a man a cup of coffee with a twenty in it and pointed him towards the mission and gave him some dog food to feed his friend. I said go get warm, he looked at me and said ” You are a sweet angel, but why should I go get warm when they won’t let my dog in? They will take me and send him to the pound, he and I we are in this together.” Right there at the top of the 35th street ramp on 35w, I cried, this man so broken, so cold,but wouldn’t warm himself because it was unfair to his dog. I can honestly say I saw god at work that day. We hugged and I got back in my car. I haven’t seen him since that fateful below zero day.

I try to see the good in everyone, maybe its a fault that I have. I don’t believe that people are evil, or bad, they just do stupid things. I stand for children, maybe it’s because mine rests in heaven, so I’ve become a protect of sorts a mentor to these broken hearts. Every friday night you can find me helping non custodial parents try to build a bond with their child, in the safety of a supervised visitation. I get to see moments, be a voyeur on their lives, help them be the parents that God knew they were capable of being. Mentoring brings me so much joy. Do you know what its like when a kid calls you up and says “I got into college! thank you for believing in me, for telling me I was worth it!” Every time I get that call I cry tears of joy with them. There are so many children that don’t feel that they are good enough or matter. Those kids they matter to me. I believe that each one of them can change the world and that they stand for a better day.

Imagine what this world could be like if we all just cared and believed in one another. Imagine the good that we could do. It doesn’t matter how busy you claim you are, we all have to take a moment and be present in the lives of others. Whether it’s giving a sign holding man a dollar, opening a door for a stranger, or telling a child they matter. Just do something. Every morning when I wake I have one goal, and that goal is to make a difference in the lives of others. Will join me in that goal? Just imagine what you can do for someone else. You don’t need to do something big, just do something small and grow your heart wide open, until you inner ninja bursts through.

It seems in life that we never care about a cause until it directly affects us. If you would have asked me about blood clots and pulmonary embolism back in 2008, I would have laughed you off and said “that only happens to old people.” Working for a prescription benefit company I had seen the drug names, warfarin sodium, coumadin, lovenox, and heparin millions of times. I’m sure I even complained when I had to take the extra steps to get the costly medications covered under someones plan. In my mind I had always pictured these people as 80 year olds who had heart problems, strokes, and who knows what. I just always said to myself, I am going to be healthy so I will never need those meds.

As fate would have it almost a week to the day I left my job at the big pharmacy benefit management company in 2009, my life was depending on the very drugs I had sold and fought to get coverage for. There I was, the picture I had built up of these sick old people was suddenly shattered and lay on the emergency room floor. I was suddenly depending on these drugs to save my life. I lay there on the maternity floor of woodwinds health campus with a Heparin drip, my blood constantly checked, and doctors telling me welcome to your new normal. My new normal would be living as a survivor, they said “you should be dead” and ‘Your 26 this isn’t suppose to happen to girls like you.” Well it did, it did in deed, and I wouldn’t trade that horrid experience for the world.

Its March or should I say National Blood Clot Awareness Month. A month that lets the world know that hey people survive these things and heck look this just doesn’t affect old people. I guess I am supposed to celebrate and be a beacon of hope for those who are just starting on this twisted journey we call survivorhood. So, as a survivor I feel obligated to advocate, to lobby, and to live for those who didn’t. To make each day worth it and make each of my days matter, because they mattered to someone.

Over and over again I am told how lucky I was, that I cheated death, I don’t believe in cheating, I believe that God still sees something in me and believes that I can help you save your life by sharing the warning signs. Every life, every story matters, and maybe mine will bring you comfort or save you in ways you never imagined.

But please take time to remember, like I do each day, that thousands of people have died from something that can be prevented. Every second counts, every moment matters when you have a clot.

Please help me spread the word and prevent blood clots in those you love!

Someone asked me the other day “What is it like being a young biracial woman in todays modern world?” I honestly didn’t know what to say and I was puzzled. When I think of me my whole being the first thing that comes to my mind is my whit, not the color of my skin, or my racial back ground.

One thing I do know is I come from a long line of strong women and men who fought for what they believed in. They believed that one day they would not be judged by the color of their skin, their creed, or called a dirty Indian as they walked the streets. My Great Great Grandmother was Chief Sky Woman, one of the few female Ojibway War Chiefs. She ruled over Madeline Island, people came to her for advice, she protected and fought for their survival.

Her daughter my Great Grandmother Geneva Grace would suffer, endure, be relocated, assimilated, and worst of all the Government would steal her children away in an attempt to get her land. The land that he mother was buried on, a land she had called home, and raised her children on. They succeeded, they bought her land for $5.00 and a bus ticket to Minneapolis. They told her that this was a new day and a better way to live. When Grace got to Minneapolis she was told that her children had died in transport. She didn’t believe them, she searched, went to the police, yet no one cared, she was just some old Indian. Grace could feel that her children were alive, she never gave up, one day she would see them again.

While Grace moved on, her children were becoming “white” they were beat if they spoke their tongue, their hair was cut, buckskins were traded in for uniforms. Best of all they were told “if you pray to your savage God, you are going straight to hell!” My grandfather at 5 years old had no idea what Jesus was, all he knew was that this thing called a Bible was now his god. That little 5-year-old boy, was sold to a man in Lake City Minnesota for $500.00 and he was no longer called Red Squirl, he was to be called Clifford Raymond Palotee.

Even thou my grandfather had been raised white, he knew that this wasn’t the way and started to question this so-called man. Mr Palotee, told him the truth, told him where he came from, and that he was an Indian bought during the relocation period. Armed with his real last name Clifford set out searching. He made friends with the souix indians and they showed him the way. One day a call came, his daughter had found his mother.

Grace never gave up looking for her children, she was reunited with her son Clifford when he was in his 60’s, her child had finally come home. Her daughter June was living in Arizona, her oldest son Walter was in California. This woman who fought who suffered and endured, could finally wrap her arms around her children. She was whole.

I am reminded of Chief Sky Woman, Grace, and my Grandfather every day, they are my connection, a link to the past. To a culture so rich that it will set your heart on fire. because of them and others like them I am able to stand here today. My GrandFather was able to mary an Irish woman, and have 13 children that stand for a better day. A day where no one is judged or ridiculed based on their skin color.

Yet we have traveled so far, yet we have walked so little. When I go out to the reservations to motivate the youth to go to college, my heart is broken. Its like stepping on to a third world country, the Government has yet to deliver on their promises, people go hungry, violence is prevalent, and shacks stand as homes. Yet somehow this is ok. It’s not ok, we owe these people something, we are standing on their land and the only time we care or turn an eye is when a Casino pops up.

For me being biracial, means standing up and using my voice to make a difference. I made a promise to Dot five years ago: that I was going to attend law school and make a difference in Indian Country. I am holding on to that promise as I know a 98-year-old woman out on the Padowadamee Reservation is holding me accountable, that she believes that I can change the world, one day at a time. The elders hold out hope that the seventh generation of Indians and mixed bloods will change the world, that we can make it a better place. I intended to make good on my promise, as for me I come from a long line of innovators, chiefs, and judges who never backed down. I will not back down either, as we say Indian Country “Let your inner Indian fly!”

I am obsessed with turtles, its true I really am.

When I was 5 years old my parents took my sister and I to the Red Cedar River in Downsville WI. It’s a tiny little town nestled on the banks of the river, there was a drought that summer so the torrent river was now a trickling stream. The beach was wider than normal, yet it was a hot bed of treasures. I cast my sandals a side and started combing the beach for rocks, shells, fish bones, and dead fish that I could throw at my sister. As I walked along I noticed something sitting on the beach, realizing it was a turtle shell I picked up my pace. When I got there, the turtle was nowhere to be found, his shell was empty. Flustered I began to dig in the sand and look around me, I didn’t see a naked turtle. I decided that he went for a swim. So I sat down next to the shell and waited for the turtle to come back.

My father noticed that I had been sitting by the bank for quite sometime and was wondering what his little explorer was up to. He came down pulled me into his lap and asked me “Mannie what are you doing?” Waiting for the turtle to come home I said as I eagerly explained that the turtle left his shell. My dad asked me ” Do you mind if I wait with you?” Sure I said, maybe seeing two people will make him come back faster. So we sat there along the banks of the Red Cedar waiting for this turtle to come home. By this time my Mom was confused as to what we were doing and dusk was starting to settle in. She came down and I eagerly explained that the turtle went for a swim and that I was waiting for him to come home. Holding the empty shell in my hand. My parents gently explained that the turtle wasn’t going to come home and that he was no longer apart of this world. I burst into tears and would have none of it, I was determined not to leave that beach until the turtle came home. My dad scooped my thrashing five-year old self up in his arms, and carried me to the car. My Mom, she scooped up the shell that I had been babysitting so eagerly and tucked it into my bucket. I was so upset and angry at my parents for not letting me wait for the turtle to come home. Every time we went back to the river, I would look for my turtle, I admit, even at 28 I can’t help but peek into the water, to see if there is a naked turtle swimming around.

My Parents saved the turtle shell for me, it had actually gotten lost amongst our junk and one day my Dad recovered it. I didn’t think anything of the empty shell at first, that is until my dad told me the story. He said ” You were so determined to wait for this turtle to come home, you cried for days because you thought a naked turtle was running around, and that he was mad because you had his shell.” I just looked at my dad and laughed. He said to me ” That was the day I knew you had a big heart and that you had passion, passion for life, and a determination to see that things get home.”

I still have that turtle shell, It sits on my side table in my living room. Some people are freaked out by it others wonder if its real. It’s real all right and this brings me to my next part.

For me turtles represents slow and steady wins the race. Culturally Turtles remind me to stay grounded and to only carry what I needed. Native Americans call North America Turtle Island, the turtle gave his life so that we could have a place to live during the great floods.

Yet, this past sunday God Mama gave me a new meaning for turtles. Frustrated with dating I told her I was tired of frogs and that I didn’t want to keep on kissing frogs until I find a prince. That I was done trying to find the one. She said to me “You like turtles right?” Well duh of course I do! “Well then, you need to kiss a lot of turtles in order to find your prince, so go out and get those turtles lady.” So that is what I am doing I am going on dates with turtles until I can find the one to fill my empty shell and feel at home with. So bring on the turtles!