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Farts are Funny

If you spend an extended amount of time with me, one thing will become glaringly obvious.

I am a child.

Seriously.

I can bring my game when I need to; fold my napkin in my lap, use the correct fork, sip my tea, clap appropriately……but to know me is to know that underneath it all I am an inappropriate hot mess.

And I fart.

Sometimes.

Tonight I am rolling off of a girls weekend filled with Neil Diamond cover bands, deep conversations, not-so-deep conversations, wine, cheese, chocolate and too little sleep. Those weekends are good. And needed.

If you haven’t had one in a while call your girlfriends up now. Call them! It doesn’t have to be a fancy weekend, or expensive weekend, book a night at the Holiday Inn, grab a bucket of chicken, a cheap bottle of wine, and talk in your comfy pajamas.

We don’t talk anymore. We do, we text, we post.

Talk.

Truth reveals itself over talk.

And chicken wings.

I spent a weekend in close quarters with my besties; eating chicken wings and brie, drinking chardonnay and pruning in the hot tub. Ironically, I during this time I forget how to sip my tea. I don’t care which fork is correct. And neither do my friends; which is a good thing.

Because day two of chicken wings and chardonnay leads to gastro distress. Distress that you can’t blame on the dog because no one brought a dog. Distress that when it’s quiet at 7:30 in the morning and your besties hear you toot from the bathroom, it is followed by five minutes of belly laugh.

Farts are funny. Finding friends that share in your seventh grade boy humor is priceless. Go gather your gassy gals and settle down for a weekend.

And chicken wings are still delicious.

 

 

home, Life Today

Gotta Do More. Gotta Be More.

I love that my life is surrounded by others making a difference. Seriously, it lifts me up everyday.

Who am I today? What is my best day?

Somedays I bring it. Other days, not so much.

When I was a senior in high school I saw the Dead Poets Society, like 199 times. I loved it. I wrote down quotes, I journaled…and this scene still hits me

Chaos screaming, chaos dreaming, gotta do more, gotta be more.

Guinness Book of World Records announced another record today; a dad who ran the fastest marathon dressed as a battery. Blaine Penny ran a stinkin’ marathon in under three hours to raise awareness for Mitochondrial disease. His son Evan was impacted at four and is now non-verbal and wheelchair bound.

battery

https://onthego.to/guinness-world-record-run-in-a-battery-costume-for-mitochondrial-disease/?fbclid=IwAR3RHAfID2Ht-YRfKCdUqscR-YOgSS9KPVLBJoP0AlJJI8S3a1dWjeJzBWo

I love this speedy battery Dad.

I dont know speedy battery Dad but I’m willing to bet he still goes to bed thinking gotta do more, gotta be more.

Cause that’s the kind of person speedy battery dad is.

I am finishing day 8 of 30 days of gratitude and it has been amazing for me. It validates what my life is in this world but also reinforces a purpose. What is my very best life? Still searching for answers on that but the more I focus on what is working, the less what does not work matters.

Funny.

Gotta do more. Gotta be more.

Thank you Speedy Battery Dad.