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Jasmine Chikara Jordan

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“I was still a newlywed and certainly wasn't to the point where I felt comfortable yelling, "I'm going to shit my pants any second!" But the sweating had started, which was followed by the tears. "I'm not feeling well, and need to get home," I told him. "Ok, but I have to obey the speed limit because of all the kids in the neighborhood," he replied. I was pleading with him to hurry up when he came to a complete stop. I screamed at him, "Why are we stopping?" He rolled down the window. "Retreat." I could see the flag lowering in the distance, the beautiful orange sun setting behind it. In the opposite direction I could see the roof line of our home - so close, yet so far away. As Retreat played, I surrendered. I pooped my pants. I took one for the flag. Now that's patriotism.”

“If you confidently start to move from where you are to where you want to be, it's only a matter of time before the people around you will accept what you are doing. Or, at the very least, they will realize you will not be deterred, and they'll stop trying to hold you back.”

“Today, I hold firm to my ability to say "no" to everything that doesn't fall under the umbrella of my ultimate gifts. If it doesn't allow me to offer my best self to the world, it's a graceful "no.”

“Food was my friend that day. Little did I know it would take nearly seven years to break my unhealthy relationship with food. I had to end a relationship that was one-sided. I was very selfish, and food was very good to me. It kept giving, and I kept taking, and both of us cared very little for the damage it was doing to me, both psychologically and physically.”

“They’re service dogs,” Norah said, without missing a beat. “So they have to stay with us.” Patel looked at the mutts dubiously. “These are service dogs?” “Yes,” Norah said serenely. One of the things that Alicia had always admired about Norah was the fact that she was a committed liar. Not to be confused with a good liar; Norah’s gift was the ability to come up with a lie on the spur of the moment and remain committed to it against all logic and reason. “For…?” The pause was negligible. “Irritable bowel syndrome.” The detectives exchanged a look. Hando, still stroking the dog’s chin, snorted. “You have service dogs for IBS?” “Of course.”