So you want to know about The City of Atlanta? Someone recently asked about the City that I live, so I figured I would share a bit about the history, not to mention the views this city has to offer. Here is our City in a nutshell, We are home of the Georgia Bulldogs Football Team- which here, your either a Bulldog fan as I am, Or a Georgia Tech Fan, which you better NOT BE--**giggles** Or if you like Basketball, you would always be in the side of the Hawks, Lose, or lose...as wins are rare--OK OK just a joke sheesh guys. And always Doing the Tomahawk Chop...Ooooo O Ooooooo for those Braves! We are the Peach State which is why so many refer to the women as Either a Southern Belle Or a Good ole Ga Peach! YA'll know it's true too :-) And the City Of Atlanta is amazing at night But during the day, the roads are hectic with traffic and Congestion. A great get a way, to relax and have a picnic in the city would be at Piedmont Park You can jog, walk, sit and read, or exercise both you and your pet in this park :-) We also have our state Capital, that is marked by it's beautiful Gold dome. This was actually done by hand, painted on using gold leaf. I admire whoever had the guts enough to do that job...Must have been a woman! HAHA jk jk. (The TRUE HISTORY of OUR Capitol) Like many U.S. state capitols, the Georgia State Capitol is designed to resemble the Renaissance architecural style of the United States Capitol, in Washington, D.C.. Completed in 1889, the building was designed by architects Willoughby J. Edbrooke and Franklin P. Burnham, of Chicago, Illinois. The building was constructed by Miles and Horne, of Toledo, Ohio. Sculptor George Crouch executed all the ornamental work on the building. The front of the capitol faces west on Washington Street. The façade features a four-story portico, with stone pediment, supported by six Corinthian columns set on large stone piers. Georgia's coat of arms, with two figures on each side, is engraved on the pediment. The Capitol's interior reflects the Victorian style of its day. It was among the earliest buildings to have elevators, central steam heat, and combination gas and electric lights. Classical pilasters and oak paneling are used throughout the building. The floors of the interior are made of marble from Pickens County, which still produces marble products today. The open central rotunda is flanked by two wings, each with a grand staircase and three-story atrium crowned by clerestory windows. The Capitol building has undergone frequent renovations to adapt to the growth and change of government. Originally constructed from terra cotta and covered with tin, the present dome is gilded with native gold leaf from near Dahlonega in Lumpkin County, where the first American gold rush occurred in the 1830s. For this reason, legislative business is often referred to as what is happening "under the gold dome" by media across the state. The statue Miss Freedom has adorned the dome since the building's opening. ---Climate--- Atlanta has a humid subtropical climate, according to the Köppen classification, with hot, humid summers and mild to chilly winters by the standards of the United States. July highs average 88 °F (31 °C) or above, and low average 67 °F (19 °C). Infrequently, temperatures can even exceed 100 °F (38 °C). The highest temperature recorded in the city is 105 °F (41 °C), reached in July, 1980. January is the coldest month, with an average high of 50 °F (10 °C), and low of 29 °F (−2 °C).[31] Warm fronts can bring springlike temperatures in the 60s and 70s in winter, and Arctic air masses can drop temperatures into the teens as well. The coldest temperature ever recorded was −9 °F (−23 °C) in February, 1899. A close second was −8 °F (−22 °C), reached in January, 1985. Like the rest of the southeastern U.S., Atlanta receives abundant rainfall, which is relatively evenly distributed throughout the year. Average annual rainfall is 50.2 inches (1,275 mm). An average year sees frost on 36 days; snowfall averages about 2 inches (5 cm) annually. The heaviest single storm brought 10 inches (25 cm) on January 23, 1940. Frequent ice storms can cause more problems than snow; the most severe such storm may have occurred on January 7, 1973. We are home to Martin Luther King JR, who's legacy as a leader of the American civil rights movement. Atlanta hosts a variety of museums on subjects ranging from history to fine arts, natural history, and beverages. Prominent among them are sites honoring Atlanta's participation in the civil rights movement, including the Martin Luther King, Jr. National Historic Site. Other history museums and attractions include the Atlanta History Center; the Atlanta Cyclorama and Civil War Museum (a huge painting and diorama in-the-round, with a rotating central audience platform, that depicts the Battle of Atlanta in the Civil War); the Carter Center and Presidential Library; historic house museum Rhodes Hall; and the Margaret Mitchell House and Museum. The arts are represented by several theaters and museums, including the Fox Theatre. The Woodruff Arts Center is home to the Tony Award winning Alliance Theatre, Atlanta Symphony, and High Museum of Art. The Atlanta Contemporary Art Center is the city's home for challenging contemporary art and education geared toward working artists and collectors of art. Museums geared specifically towards children include the Fernbank Science Center and Imagine It! Atlanta's Children's Museum. The Atlanta Opera, which was founded in 1979 by members of two struggling local companies, is now one of the fastest growing opera companies in the nation and garners attention from audiences around the world. Atlanta features the world's largest aquarium, the Georgia Aquarium, which officially opened to the public on November 23, 2005. Adjacent is the new World of Coca-Cola which opened in May 2007, featuring the history of the world famous soft drink brand. Underground Atlanta, a historic shopping and entertainment complex is situated under the streets of downtown Atlanta. Atlantic Station, a huge new urban renewal project on the northwestern edge of Midtown Atlanta, officially opened in October 2005. The Varsity, featured as the world's largest drive-in restaurant, is located in Midtown Atlanta. Piedmont Park hosts many of Atlanta's festivals and cultural events. Next to the park is the Atlanta Botanical Garden. Zoo Atlanta, with a panda exhibit, is in Grant Park. Just east of the city, Stone Mountain is the largest piece of exposed granite in the world.[54] A few miles west of Atlanta on I-20 is the Six Flags Over Georgia Theme Park. Dont' forget to stop at Krispy Kreme or The Varsity before you leave, it's a treat you won't soon forget! "What'll ya have? What'll ya have? What'll ya have? Have your order in your mind and your money in your hand!" is the constant chorus one hears above the crowd noise when you walk into The Varsity. Here's a list of lingo so you know they got your order right, and your not standing there like a deer staring at headlights. 1 Hot Dog (Hot dog with chili and mustard) 2 Heavy Weight (Hot dog with extra chili) 3 Naked Dog (Plain hot dog on a bun) 4 MK Dog (Naked dog with mustard and ketchup) 5. Regular C Dog (Hot dog with ketchup) 6. Red Dog (Naked dog with Ketchup) 7. Yellow Dog (Naked dog with mustard) 8. Yankee Dog (Plain dog with mustard) 9. Walk a Dog (Hot dog to go) 10. Steak (Hamburger with ketchup, mustard and pickle) 11.Chili Steak (Hamburger with chili) 12. Glorified Steak (Hamburger with mayo, lettuce and tomato) 13. Mary Brown Steak (Hamburger with no bun) 14. Naked Steak (A plain steak) 15. Varsity Orange (The original formula) 16. Squirt One (A Varsity Orange) 17. N.I. Orange (Varsity Orange with no ice) 18. F.O. (Frosted Varsity Orange) 19. Joe-ree (Coffee with cream) 20. P.C. (Plain chocolate milk always served with ice) 21. N.I.P.C. (Chocolate milk with no ice) 22. All the Way (With onions - Can be a hot dog, chili, steak, etc) 23. Bag of Rags (Potato Chips) 24. Ring One (Order of Onion Rings) 25. Strings (An order of french fries) 26. Sideways (Onions on the side) DO NOT FEAR the FAT of this awesome artery clogging food, we are also known for the best hospital around, known as There you have our city in a nutshell I think, but if you'd like to know more don't hesitate to ask :-)

I recently had a struggle with my oldest daughter, about what I Thought was a very immature thing for her to do to herself- She wanted a Tattoo on her Forearm, and I couldn't for the life of me talk her out of this, and believe me, it wasn't very pretty here for a while. Until she brought me to a website, and explained to me exactly what this tattoo meant to her. I have always known my daughters heart, her pains, but not until she showed me this site did I truly understand that no matter how much I loved her-my precious daughter....She didn't love herself-and no matter how many things I did, no matter how many times it came out of my mouth, or how many tears I cried for her, she didn't and couldn't find that feeling that so many people long to feel. LOVING THY SELF> I am thankful for this site, for the awareness and for my daughter being brave enough to open my eyes to realize it wasn't me as a mother not doing enough to love HER, She has to find her way to LOVE HERSELF. Im proud of her Tattoo because I understand my daughter. To write love on her arms will touch many lives, Mine is firsthand. READ THE STORY HERE. TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS. by jamie tworkowski Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars." I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her. Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her. She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm. The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms. She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her. I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes. Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show. She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies. On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope. Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired. After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff. She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life. As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope." I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly. We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true. We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home. I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember. -------------------------------------------------- If you are worried that you or someone you know may be at risk for suicide, please contact a mental heath professional, call and talk to someone at 1-800-SUICIDE or find a helpline in your area of the world through www.befrienders.org, or call your local authorities.

Happily Ever After We live in a weird world, there is no question about it. As I work on my latest song “Happily Ever After”, I am compelled to rethink the conflict I continuously endure about life and happiness. Most people just accept things as they are, but I unfortunately require to go deeper into the psychology of how humans think and behave as well as the why. In this case, the how happiness is attained (if at all) and why it is so hard (or possibly impossible). “Happily Ever After” is a song of how come we grow up listening to tales of princes and princesses who endure one tiny problem and as this problem is solved, they can then be happy forever. Snow White was so pretty, her step mother wanted her dead so that she could be the prettiest again. Snow White is then poisoned by the evil witch, her step mother. Not to worry! A handsome prince comes about and with a kiss returns her to life. ZAKABOOM! Happily Ever After. Why can’t I just have a tiny problem like that and get it over with? Why can’t I then be happily ever after? Or is it that my “tiny” problem has not arrived yet? Gosh! I hope the standards of what tiny problem are have not changed that much since the 1800’s!!! Cinderella was a tougher ordeal, though. Viciously enslaved by her step mother and step sisters, Cinderella does manage to get the prince, become the princess and then have revenge against their former evil family. Once again, Happily Ever After! Could it be that my story more like Cinderella and I just have to wait a little longer? How about Sleeping Beauty? She gets to sleep for a hundred years and then ZAKABOOM! A prince’s kiss followed by Happily Ever After. Heck! If I could sleep for a hundred years, I would already be happy. Isn’t sleeping one of the three pleasures in life? I bet this chick could stay up all night having sex with her prince, after taking such a long nap. No wonder they lived happily ever after. Unfortunately, in real life we are all screwed! The folks on these stories did not have to worry about paying the rent. Instead they had an awesome castle! These folks had glorious and pompous carriages. There was no need for them to worry about inspecting the vehicle, whether the gas price was going up or down and about nails on the street taking care of your tires (which are more expensive than gas). Apparently they did not get sick either, so there was no need for a medical plan in which you work so that you can make your doctor rich. Their work was on the castle, which explains why their commute was so short. Not a chance to get on time wasting traffic jams, which are a daily thing here in Texas due to car crashes and all the retards who need to look at the all messed up cars. The folks on these stories are all self employed as well. So they do not have to worry about the typical Monday to Friday week and 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM working time. These guys are their own bosses. Lucky bastards! Just to make it easier, they have Fairy Godmothers. PHOCK! That’s not even fair! A few waves of their wands and ZAKABOOM! Tools to help them get through their tinsy winsy little problem. We have tons of problems to deal with on a daily basis and not even the glimpse of a Fairy God Mother spec of dust from her wand to aid on our quest for happiness. But you know what? We deserve it! We are telling our kids these stories so they are growing up with the hope things will just work out. Yeah sure! They work out, but you are not Happily Ever After which is how each single lousy tale ends like, making us believe this part as well! Here is how I would end some of the most popular tales to resemble our real life: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: Snow White married the Blue Prince. Then they got divorced a few years later because Snow White liked the seven Dwarves better. Had Snow White learned to love the fact that The Blue Prince liked to be with his buddies every now and then, she would have lived forever with him. Not happily, but forever. Cinderella: Cinderella managed to get her Step Mom and Step Sisters to work on the castle. But one day the resourceful Step Mom managed to convince the other peasants to revolt against the current government. The little uprising caused the Blue Prince to die in battle and Cinderella was forced into the woods were she lived until she died. Some people say she was happy, but it is unknown and highly unlikely since her husband had been killed in battle. Plus the lack of sex most likely transformed her into the most annoying whining bitch on the entire fantasy land. Sleeping Beauty As she married the Blue Prince, everything was grand for a few weeks of hot and steamy sex. Unfortunately, she was having problems sleeping due to the long nap she had taken. Eventually she left the castle as she could not take the Blue Prince’s snoring anymore. They have filled for divorce, but the courts are taking too long as it makes them sleepy to read the documents. Red Riding Hood Red Riding Hood learned the lesson. Now she chats with strangers and then she meets with them on the woods were apparently she is managing to get some form of Happily Ever After. Or is it Herpes Ever After? Pinnochio: Pinnochio was transformed into a child, but never stopped lying. The Fairy God Mother punished him by poisoning his nose again with the “grow per lie” spell. Pinnochio then went and met Merlin who changed the spell quite a bit. Pinnochio will never need Viagra, so there is a good chance he truly will be Happily Ever After. The Three Little Pigs: The Three little pigs managed to escape the wolf by building a brick house. So the wolf got a demolition ball and entered through the Master Room. As the pigs managed to escape, they started negotiations with black market representatives from North Korea. As soon as Kim Jon-Il makes a successful test, the wolf’s ass is toast.

I just heard the cutest story on the news yet! A 4 year old boy from Durham NC saved the day when he heard something in his home, This little hero dressed up in his Power Rangers costume and went fighting-sword and all! The robbers left the home-dropping the credit cards and other goodies throughout the home.....YOU GO BOY! No need for an ADT Security system in that household.