Monday, December 8, 2008

I just have freakishly large calf muscles

I went to the sports med doctor today for a check-up on my gimpy knee. I was anticipating that I might get released from treatment today. I haven't had much pain at all and I have been running again, even if it's only for about five minutes at a time, I am running. After gaining 12 pounds in 6 weeks, I knew if I didn't get back to running, I was going to need to get a zip code for my large ass. I have to push myself, because my endurance has decreased so much in the last few months, even though I had been working out, it's like starting all over again.

I asked the doctor about my huge calves when I was in the office. I have seriously been thinking I need to make an appointment with the plastic surgeon to schedule some lipo on my calves. The doctor told me I have very muscular calves and there really isn't that much fat on my calves. OMG! Are you serious? This is the one part of my body where I don't have a bunch of fat! He told me I can thin out the muscle, but I will never have dainty, cute calves. I have the calves of a pro-bowl linebacker.

I guess I can forgo that visit to plastic surgeon and either special order my boots or forgo the idea of boots all together. I did find out I can special order boots from a local department store, so I may look into this option. I would really like to have a pair of knee high boots just because I want a pair. I will let you all know how that turns out. Until next time, Diva Divine

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Glamour Don't

I know I am going to hell for snapping this picture, but this girl was begging to be classified as a Glamour don't. Yes, this stunt has more than likely ensured my seat in hell will be waiting for me, but it was worth it because either this girl is either working for Santa, her Pimp is Santa or her Pimp is working part-time as Santa and digs the get-up. Please, please, please slap me if I ever wear such an outfit in public. Oh wait, that won't happen because my calves are too fat for those kind of boots! So, I guess I won't have to worry! I know, God will get me for being so mean, but He gave me fat calves, so I can be a little bitter. Until next time, Diva Divine

Monday, December 1, 2008

Britney: for the record....Craptastic. television at. its. finest!

My girl Brit is back in the saddle and she has herself a new show, a documentary if you will, on MTV appropriately titled Britney: for the record. Brit's Daddy opens the show making his baby some cheese grits! You know, according to Jamie, Brit's Daddy, other people eat Wheaties, girls from the South eat cheese grits. Perhaps that's how Brit got those big jugs?

I think the doctors have Brit on some heavy medication. She is way too mellow. Like she is in Stepford Mode or something. It's like she is Britney on permanent edit. She is really kind of freaking me out because she is just so- bland and robotic. A far cry from the girl who shaved her own head and chased after the photog's. Man, I miss that crazy Britney because you never knew what you were going to get. It was like opening a box of chocolates.... Brit was the Whitman Sampler without the nice map in the lid.

Whatever Brit is on, I would like a nice big dose of it. Perhaps it would solve all my problems and also clear up my face. Perhaps it would also help me win a VMA, launch my new album, patch things up with my baby Daddy, discover a cure for cancer and find the key to world peace.

Yes, Britney: for the record. Craptastic .television. at. its. best.

TTFN, Diva

Best line: "People thought I was on drugs." I wonder why anyone would have thought that Britney? Maybe because you acted like you were on drugs??? Possibly???

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Get over it already!

I've been having some trouble with my stomach. Okay, saying that I am having some trouble with my stomach would be an understatement. I've been having a lot of trouble with my stomach. The antibiotics the dermatologist gave me to clear up my face have done just that, and they have also cleared my digestive system as well. I adjusted the time I took the medicine. I made sure I took it with food. I took it with bread. I took it with milk. I took it while standing on one foot, turning in circles and humming "Dixie", but nothing helped. I called the doctor last week and they told me it was okay to only take the medicine once a day. That worked for about five minutes. That just kept me from making five trips to the bathroom before lunch. I started taking Imodium and Gas-X, which helped but only a little. Just enough to help me not have a big blow out at any given moment. It's been very embarrassing.

I was doing really well on Thursday. No problems after taking my medicine, but I did eat a lot at Thanksgiving dinner and that probably helped to absorb the medicine. I thought things were going really well, like I had made it over the hump, and then Friday, it all came crashing down on me. I woke up with an awful backache and I couldn't stay awake for anything. I kept falling asleep and no matter what I did, I could only stay awake for thirty minutes at a time and then I would be out for a few hours. It was not good. I finally forced myself to get up. I wanted to drive back to my house because I had so much to do here. I can only stay in my hometown for about a day because they don't have Starbucks, Target or a 24-Hour Kroger. I got a shower and got dressed then got packed up to leave and then it hit me!!! AHHHHHH!!!! MUST GET TO BATHROOM NOW!!!!!!

So my bathroom escapades have started again. I spent most of yesterday in bed, much like Friday, and late last night, I ended up on the bathroom floor in pain, thinking I was either going to throw up or die from the stabbing stomach pains I was experiencing. All I could think was "I am going to die and they will find me Monday morning when I don't show up for work. Someone will walk in here and find me on the bathroom floor in my t-shirt and underwear." At least the underwear were clean. I don't know how long I stayed on the floor, but it took everything I had to get up and crawl into bed. I spent most of today in bed and I finally had to get up because I had to get my oil changed in my car and I had to sing at Mass. I am calling the doctor tomorrow and asking them to change my medicine because this is not fun. What good is it for my skin to be cleared up if I have to spend all my time in the bathroom? Really, I want to tell my stomach "Get over it already!" I just don't think my stomach is listening. Until next time, Diva Divine

Sunday, November 23, 2008

I almost didn't make it home...

I went to see the dermatologist on Tuesday to take care of some horrible acne I have been having on my back, chest and my face. It was oh so much fun to go see the doctor and let her pick around on my back and see me at my finest. I forgot to mention I almost had to clean the clock of the nurse who had the audacity to tell me "Your acne isn't that bad. I've seen much worse." Okay bitch and I've gotten people fired from their jobs for saying less than that to me. Just talk to the lady who worked for my orthodontist who yelled at me about not brushing my teeth, when I had just brushed my teeth five minutes before my appointment in the office. She accused me of having bread stuck in my brackets, even though I hadn't had bread in days. The "bread" was toothpaste residue and when I told the office manager about Ms. Meanie Pants and how she made me cry, Ms. Meanie Pants wasn't in the office the next time I had an appointment. Yeah Nurse Ratched watch it because you could be next.

Anyhow, they put me on some antibiotics for my acne, which was diagnosed as cystic acne. The first few days, I was fine. But, my stomach and antibiotics don't get along very well. I was hoping this time I was going to escape the icky side effects however, the side effects reared their ugly head late Friday and I have been staying close to the bathroom for the last two and a half days. It really sucks to be chained to the toilet because you are afraid you are going to have a big blow out episode of antibiotic diarrhea. I almost had a big blow out episode in the grocery store and on my way from the garage to my house and again on the way from my front door to the top of my stairs. Oh, it's so much fun getting a full colon cleanse every few hours.

I am trying to make it through this episode of blowout antibiotic gas and diarrhea. I was supposed to have MC come over today and help me move the cabinet from my car to my house, however, when you are expelling gas from your ass, you don't want to have a hottie come over and be exposed to that loveliness. So, I still have a cabinet in my car, gas coming from my ass and pains in my stomach. Oh, I love being me! But at least my skin is clearing up! Until next time, Diva Divine

Thursday, November 20, 2008

I am a fat ass... I need an intervention... NOW!

I have been really busy with work so I haven't had time to post. I know that is no excuse. I've been trying to get my house in order, with Ginny's help, and trying to get my life in order. Anyhow, I went to the doctor today and I got a big slap in the face. I knew I had gained some weight. I have been really stressed. I eat when I am stressed. I didn't think I had eaten that much, but obviously, I have been eating nonstop because I have gained 12 pounds in 6 weeks. 12 freakin' pounds in 6 weeks... that's 2 pounds a week! HOLY FREAKIN' SHIT! So, I am now on official intervention mode. I have alerted everyone that if they should happen to see me with food in my hands, they are supposed to slap me silly, take the food away and slap me again while yelling "HEY FATTY 12 POUNDS.... 6 WEEKS!!!! GO RUN AND STOP EATING BEFORE YOUR ASS GETS ITS OWN ZIP CODE!" Hopefully, that will work.

Good news on other fronts, I started running again this week. I can only run in intervals of two minutes of running, three minutes of walking, but I can run. I am hoping that the running will get me back in check and take some of this weight off of my fat ass. Otherwise, I will be trading my nice clothes for mumu's and tents.

I am still in like with MC. I am more in like with him now than before.  I actually just enjoy MC's company. He makes me laugh. He likes the same music I like. He is smart. He is tall. He is actually nice and thoughtful and an all around good guy. 

Well, I have to get stuff cleaned up and work off the chicken, spinach, and cheese wrap I ate for dinner. I better start running up and down my stairs for the next hour. Until next time, Diva Divine

Monday, November 3, 2008

I will clean your clock!

I think some people really want me to hit them. Seriously, they want me to punch them right between the eyes and knock them out. Why do people insist on working my nerves? Yeah, really haven't figured that one out yet, but if you know the answer, please enlighten me. I'd love to know the answer.

Okay, so I am highly stressed right now because this is a huge week at work. I've been working on this for months. Now that the event is right in front of my face, I'm totally flipping out because everything is hitting me at once. I'm getting slammed from all sides. I want to hold up a sign and wave a white flag, yelling "I surrender!" but I don't think that is going to fly.

I've tried to let things roll off my back, but when people continue to ask me the same questions over and over again or they are just downright heinous, you can't help but fell the need to clean their clock. I mean, even if you ask me a million times, the answer to the question isn't going to change. In fact, if you keep asking me I think that I have free reign to go all bat shit crazy on your ass and scratch your eyes out. Seriously, It's like you are just asking for it. It's an open invitation in my book.

Yes, I am a pain in the ass. That's well known, but most of the time I am a nice person until people make me mad and push me to my limit and then, it's game on! All bets are off and you'd better not cross the Diva once you've done that because you could be in serious trouble,

I had to work at the nursing home tonight, which wouldn't have been so bad had I not woken up at 3:00 this morning, getting just 3 and a half hours of sleep. I was not in the mood to deal with idiot's who can't read, who keep pulling on the door and look at you like you're dumb because they are too damn stupid to follow directions. This lady came in tonight and she refused to push the button to get in the door, like we should just open the door for her because she is just so fabulous. Whatever sister, think again. Unless you are Miss Dorothy in her cute little Jazzy and you can't open the door and maneuver your wheelchair at the same or you are the cute little guy with the walker who can't push the button and open the door at the same time, I am not pushing that button for you. Okay, I will push it for the lady who has two kids, one of whom is in a pumpkin seat because she can't push the button without putting the baby seat on the floor and that isn't necessary. No Ms. I am not pushing the button doesn't fit in any of those categories. She brings some dog in with her, which I think is a big no no, but it's not worth fighting with her. So, Miss I'm Too Good leaves and comes back in (not hitting the button..."Hit the red button") and she is in a big tizzy. Someone is blocking her and she can't get out. OMG! Please leave because you are annoying. I page the person who is blocking her in. They don't come out. She is all up in arms, telling me she is going to call the cops and have the car towed. Whatever, I doubt she knows how to pick up the phone on her own, let alone dial. She gets all honked off because the person blocking her in won't come down so she goes back outside to see if she can get her car out. The blocking driver comes out and I guess they almost came to blows. One of the residents was out there and saw it all happen. Miss Priss came back in and demanded to have the name of the company the blocking driver worked for.... then, when the resident came in I found out Miss Priss was parked illegally in a handicapped parking spot!! She shouldn't even have been where she was, had she not been parked there, she wouldn't have gotten blocked in in the first place. Had I known this, I would have thumped her ass and good. SUH-CUR-ITY!!!!

Now that I have been up for 18 hours, I think it is time to go to bed. I have to get up early so I can vote before work. I am a heinous bitch, but at least I do have some redeeming qualities.... I do turn off the water when I brush my teeth and I give things to charity. Until next time, Diva Divine

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Feeling lazy

I am sitting here on my bed when I know I have a million and one things to do right now. I should be unpacking boxes in my den and getting my house in order. I should be exercising. I should be trying to get something done before I go to the nursing home this afternoon for my shift. However, I am sitting here on my bed, typing this post because I really don't feel like doing anything else. I could so take a nap right now. It's cool outside and my bedroom is nice and dark, Bring It On is playing again and I totally get sucked in every time that movie is on. I shouldn't even turn on the television because I am so easily sucked in by anything that comes on, it doesn't matter what it is, I will watch it. I seriously suck.

I do get up and go to Mass this morning. I guess I can count that as a positive in the win column. However, I am convinced I am a magnet for oddness or people who smell really bad. For example, today this guy sits behind me and he seriously smelled foul. Yes, smelled so foul I almost had to get up and move because I thought I was going to be sick. What is it with people who stink sitting close to me? Do I have a sign on my back that says "Sit by me so I can smell your wretched ass and nearly vomit every time I inhale?" Can't people smell their own stink? Do I just have an over active olfactory system? Am I just a mean person whose heightened sense of smell only seems to get her in trouble?

At least all my clothes are hung up now thanks to Ginny and her persistence. She came over the other night and cracked the whip on my lazy ass. She helped me hang up all my clothes and unpack boxes. She also helped me take apart my table and carry it down to the garage. She is the best sister a girl could have. I am so blessed to have her as a sister! Ginny rocks!

I am going to watch Bring It On and laze the time away until I need to get to the nursing home. I will be kicking myself tomorrow when I go back to work and I still have a house that is completely unorganized. I only have myself to blame, so I know where the buck stops. Yeah, that would be with me. Until next time, Diva Divine

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

It's not even Halloween yet and I'm singing Christmas music

Tis the season to start carving pumpkins and jumping in piles of leaves. After spending last weekend in Massachusetts, I was all stoked about Fall and leaves and hot chocolate... okay, maybe not hot chocolate because I think I drank too much of that last weekend and I am really sick of it right now, but I was digging the whole fall thing. Then, I came home and realized I had to start Christmas Choir practice on Tuesday! Yikes! Tuesday!! Yes, that would be Tuesday, October 21st. That is a full 66 days before Christmas (in case you were wondering). That is insane. Normally, we wouldn't start practice until the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. However, this year we are recording a CD and if we want to have it available for purchase before Christmas, we must have it recorded by early November which means we have to start practicing now.

Let me tell you how odd it is to sing about Christmas and the baby Jesus and snow and wise men when the leaves are just starting to turn colors. It's more than odd, it's downright disturbing. I swear, it seems like only a few weeks ago that we were singing this music for Christmas Eve and now, it's time to get it all out again and prepare for all the hoopla again. It's bad enough when the stores go from 4th of July merchandise to Back to School stuff, straight into Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas all at the same time. Before you know it, we will just have Halthanksmas--- complete with ghosts, goblins, and witches riding on the backs of turkeys looking for the Baby Jesus who is dressed in his Hathanksmas garb chillin' with Mary and Joseph who are gnawing on turkey legs and stuffing next to the manger watching some football on their flat screen television. What a sight that would be to behold. I think we should throw in a few fireworks for good measure, just to liven things up a bit.

I think we have become such a commercialized, consumer driven society we have forgotten the significance of these holidays and why we celebrate them. It's like we can't wait to get the kids back in school so we can decorate the pumpkins and then before we even have the pumpkin carved, we are already moving on to Thanksgiving and turkey, time off school, and then before the bird is even in the oven, we are shopping for Christmas and decorating the tree and making New Year's Resolutions because that is how the commercial world treats those events, just stuff them down our throats and entice us to buy all the stuff you think we need, before we need it because if you wait to buy it when the holiday actually gets close, you are out of luck because the commercial world has already moved on to the next holiday.

I remember as a child that it took forever for Halloween to arrive once we started school. Back in those days, school didn't even start as soon as it does now. We actually didn't have as much time to wait as kids do these days. And then, it took a long time to get to Thanksgiving and the first long break from school. Forget about Christmas, that was only a glimmer in our mind's eye because it might as well have been a million light years away because it took forever to arrive and was over too soon. Now, maybe because I am older and times goes quicker, the days fly by me so quickly, I don't have time to catch my breath between blinks of my eye. So many things happen so fast and we, as a society, never slow down to enjoy them because it is always rush, rush, rush, you must get from point a to point b to point c and if you don't do it fast enough, you get left behind.

Maybe I am old fashioned and I just want to take things easy and enjoy the simple life and go back to a time when things weren't so busy, but I doubt I am the only person who feels like the world is moving so fast, if I blink I will miss something. I think there are times when all of us feel a little like that and we wonder what would happen if just stopped it all and refused to buy into all the commercial marketing and pressure. However, that really isn't an option because we are an instant gratification society and now, now, now is the only speed we know.

So, I had my first Christmas Choir practice last night and I am getting myself ready for Advent. Yes, they completely skip Advent. The time when we should be waiting in stillness and quiet, we are rushing all around making sure Aunt Carol has the right size sweater and Missy Jane will get her favorite dolly under the Christmas tree. We don't even stop to wait and remember who we are waiting for and what we are really celebrating. It's all about getting on to the next event. It never ends.

I've done enough ranting for one day. I am still wiped out from the weekend. I think it is time to go to bed. Until next time, Diva Divine

Monday, October 20, 2008

I conquered the log!

I went to camp last weekend, which I told you all about in my previous post. I am still boy stupid, that has not changed in 24 hours. That may never change because I have been boy stupid all my life.

Moving on from that, I have to tell you about the log. Picture this, you are walking through the woods at a camp and there is a rather large log suspended about six feet in the air between two trees. The guide tells your group "Everyone in the group has to get to the other side of the log." Being the smart ass I am, I say "So, I can walk under the log?" Um, no, everyone must go over the log. Okay, did I mention to you I am terrified of heights? Yes, standing on anything taller than a chair and I start hyperventilating. Me, going over a log, six feet in the air is probably not going to happen. However, being at camp, you can't just say "I'm not doing this!" Especially in front of a group of teenagers who are doing this activity. All weekend you work on building trust and team building skills and telling them "Sorry, I don't do heights", really isn't an option.

So, we start getting people over the log. Of course the first few weigh absolutely nothing and we do cheerleader stunt lifts to get them over the log. Then, it comes to one of the other girls, who is a little bit bigger. She was so scared to get over the log. She kept telling them "I will hurt one of you." I wanted to tell her "Honey, I've been the biggest girl in the group my whole life-- don't let this hold you back." Everyone encouraged her and we got her over the wall. One of the other tiny ones goes over and then it's my turn. I suddenly want to run away as fast as possible. I am so scared I can't talk. I can't back out now. I somehow get my big ass on the log--although my short little legs nearly kept me from doing it because I couldn't get up there without help. Then, I didn't know how to get down. I was terrified of falling and breaking my leg. I was frozen on that log and I couldn't move. About then, I seriously wanted to die or be plucked off the log by some massive bird, but the chances of that happening were slim to none. I couldn't move and I couldn't figure out how to get down. I was stuck. How do you explain to a group of teenagers "I am too stubborn to just drop down off this log because I have to be in control at all times?" Yeah, that's the break through I had Saturday. I have always been stubborn, but I finally realized just how stubborn I really am. I have to be in control of EVERYTHING or else I want nothing to do with it. I can't just let go and let someone else take care of it. I can't depend on other people because I don't trust that it will get done. Not that I don't think other people will do a good job, it's just that I have always had to be very independent and giving up control of things to other people and depending on them to help me out isn't something I have had to do much and now, I can't do it at all.

I finally started to get very weak and my arms were hurting so badly I started to drop off that log. Suddenly, I had to give up the power and the control. I dropped to the ground and the kids caught me. I didn't fall and die or break my leg. Seriously, it was a huge ordeal. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or do both simultaneously. After we were all done, I had to go take time by myself because I had to process the whole event in my mind. It was a lot to handle and a lot to deal with. It wore me out mentally and the only way to work through it was to go sit by myself and just think and write. It was a very moving experience.

So, I conquered the log and lived to tell all about it. I learned I have so much growing to do and I have to learn to let go. It's a process and I have to be open to that process in order for it to work. I have a lot of "logs" to get over in my life. I just hope I'm smart enough to figure out how to get over them without giving up. Until next time, Diva Divine

The Diva and the Log. Score: Diva 1 Log 0

Thursday, October 16, 2008

I can't pack!

I am going to a work event this weekend. I fly out tomorrow morning and I am still not completely packed. Some people would tell me to just throw some stuff in a suitcase and go, but I agonize about what I should take so I am still not packed. It really shouldn't be that hard since most of the stuff we are doing is outside and I don't have to dress up or look all fabulous, but I am still worried about either taking too much stuff or not taking enough. I feel like an idiot. I am getting picked up at around 6:30 which means I will probably be packing up my suitcase for good at around 6:25. I will forget something I need. I will take things I don't need. I will realize there were things I should have taken with me and kick myself for not bringing those things. I need a personal assistant to keep me in line and to pack my suitcases for me. Until next time, Diva Divine

Monday, October 13, 2008

Because I’m not completely heinous... at least not all the time. What happens at Homecoming, stays at Homecoming, unless Ginny brings her camera

Many people probably think I am completely heinous because I tend to be quite snarky. Yes, I have a sharp tongue and I get rather mouthy from time-to-time, but really I am a nice person…. Most of the time. Okay, some of the time. In my effort to show all of you I am not completely heinous I wanted to pass along a recycling opportunity or two. Nike has a Reuse-A-Shoe program called Let Me Play ( The program accepts old sneakers, of any brand, and recycles them into courts for various sports so kids around the world have a place to play. You can drop your shoes off at a Nike store, other participating retailers, athletic clubs, and schools around the country (check the website for locations near you), or mail them to Nike Recycling Center, c/o Reuse-a-Shoe, 26755 SW 95th Avenue, Wilsonville, OR 97070. If your shoes still have some life left in them, consider donating them to needy athletes in the US and around the world through Mail them to One World Running, P.O. Box 2223, Boulder CO 80306.

I went back to my alma mater this past weekend for Homecoming. I still can’t get over the fact I graduated college eleven years ago. I feel like an old lady and from the way the current students looked at the alumni, I might as well been pushing my walker and having my nurse wipe drool from my chin. Yeah, that is no way to treat your alums, you ungrateful little twerps. Do you realize I had to sleep in a dorm that didn’t have air conditioning for two years, that’s two move-in days with sweat pouring from places I don’t want to think about sweating and two move-out days with more sweat? Do they realize I lived in the basement of said un-air conditioned dorm and nearly got flooded out during a rainstorm? Oh, no they don’t know anything about those days because they tore that dorm down, a year after I graduated, and built a nice new, coed dorm with air conditioning, nice furniture, huge fireplaces and decent bathrooms.

All I got for those first two years were many sweaty nights, even sweatier days and the smell of Downy dryer sheets and burnt popcorn coming from our antiquated kitchens that dated back to 1940. Seriously, the dorm had the original appliances. And they wondered why people didn’t stay in the dorms? Duh, why take your life in your hands and risk losing your possessions when the place could catch fire the next time Sloshy Suzy decided to whip up another batch of Mudslides for Buzzed Bambi and Liquored-up Lucy before they went off to a fraternity party because their blender short circuited the entire electrical system? I think I had exactly two plug-ins in my room freshman year and that was for two people. Yeah, not real great when you both have five things to plug in, not to mention you had to have four fans going all the time to keep the place below 100 degrees. This lead to us having two power strips apiece, which completely overloaded the electrical system and could have sent the place up in flames faster than the blender that belonged to Suzy, Bambi and Lucy, but at least I wasn’t concocting alcoholic beverages to get my under-aged sorority sisters nicely polluted. I had to have enough plug-ins for my hairdryer, radio and potpourri pot. Yes, I was a geek. I admit it. I probably would have had more fun had I been hanging out with Suzy, Bambi and Lucy my Freshman and Sophomore years, but we live and we learn.

I got lucky and managed to get a room in the exclusive Senior Dorm my Junior year. That’s called “I-took-so-many-credits-so-I-could-graduate-in-four-years-I-am-a- Junior-with-Senior-Standing-after-my-Fifth-Semester.” The Senior Dorm had air conditioning, real bathrooms, sinks in the rooms and nice furniture that didn’t have things carved into it like “Elvis Slept Here” and “Pat Dunbar is a Fox!” I am serious about the Pat Dunbar thing. That was written in the elevator, let me rephrase that, the scary freight elevator that we took to move things up to the 3rd floor or the 2nd floor or sometimes just for the hell of it. It had a wooden gate you had to raise and lower when you used the thing. I swear it was right out of an old movie. I am surprised someone didn’t die on that thing…. There was the rumor about the girl who died in that dorm maybe the elevator did get her? It did have a funky smell come to think of it.

Anyhow, back to Homecoming. I got to see lots of people I hadn’t see in years. I hung out with my sorority sisters (to which I never contributed to their drinking habits……. Keep quiet about that late night run to CVS LE and KS when I took these “lists” given to me by anonymous people, otherwise, well, you won’t want to see what the Diva will do☺) Ginny rode with me and we got caught up from her trip to Ireland and Wales for the last two weeks. She even brought my shillelagh and lots of other good stuff. We walked around and went to all the buildings and saw all the changes they had made, went to the bookstore and bought stuff that is still overpriced (good to know some things never change), and took pictures of ourselves in several questionable poses with the school’s namesake. Seriously, when you put a huge statute of the namesake sitting on a bench, you are only inviting people, like nutty alumni and drunken college students, to take suggestive pictures with said namesake. Don’t tell me that didn’t run through their minds when that statue and bench were put out there. If it didn’t, they were dumb because that was the first thing that would have gone through my head “How long will it take for us to see suggestive pictures with the namesake pop-up on social networking sites and other places on the internet?” But, then again, my mind is not so stable and I think of the most random stuff.

I had to have my picture taken on the namesakes lap, then giving the namesake a kiss and finally, doing something suggestive to the namesake because, well, again if you put it out there, it’s bound to happen. Of course, Ginny had to pose, too. She said to me “Namesake is HOT!” I thought she meant hot, like Paris Hilton means hot, but she clarified it by saying “No! I mean hot, like burn you hot!!!!!” Yes, it seems that the namesake statue is a conductor of heat and the temperature was above 80 and the sun was beating down on the said statue all day. Hot was an understatement. More like give you second degree burns upon contact. I think my arm still has a big red splotch from my brief contact with the namesake statue.

After frolicking around campus, we decided to go to our favorite college over 21 establishment where friends meet. We were walking back to my car (which I parked on the president’s lawn… I wasn’t the only one) when we pass these guys sitting on the back of their truck. I think I would have to classify them as boys because they seemed really young, or then again, maybe I am just really old. I don’t even think they were students or even alums. I think they were just there to drink. Why would you be tailgating on the President’s Lawn, which is really nowhere near the football field and you can’t see the game. Yeah, you can’t tell me they were there for the game. So, Ginny and I walk by and they say “Hello Ladies!” We said hello and kept walking. “Where you going?” To get our drink on. “Oh, then come back here!” No, not on your life. You are drinking Old Milwaukee on the back of your pick-up truck, which is parked on the President’s Lawn. I don’t want to come and drink with you just so you can ogle my goodies and think I might actually do more than just let you look at my “fun bags.” I have a degree from this fine, fine college and sitting on the back of your pick-up truck downing beer and letting you feel me up is not my idea of fun. Besides, you probably only really want me to go get you more booze because you aren’t old enough to buy it for yourselves and those days are over, mister. Nope, sorry, going to meet my sisters at the fine establishment when friends meet. Perhaps another time??? Not!

And I wonder why I don’t have a boyfriend? Hmmm. Shocking, I know.

All in all, Homecoming was a fun experience, especially because I had Ginny there to crack me up every five seconds. I loved the walk down memory lane. Fun times I tell you, fun times. I am loving my bookstore purchases. I will be living in my lounge pants for years to come. I have to wear them for years to come to get my monies worth out of them! I will be taking them this weekend on the trip I am making for work. Most likely, they will have to pry them off my body every day because that is how comfy they are. And yes, the pictures from Homecoming are posted on a social networking site for all the world to see. See if I had been on that statue committee things like this wouldn’t happen, but I’m not and now there are suggestive pictures of the school namesake out there for all the world to see. Oh well, I’ll just say I had been getting my drink on, even though that didn’t happen until well after those pictures were taken, because really, who could resist getting naughty with the statue of your alma mater’s namesake. You put it out there like that and you are only asking for trouble and suggestive pictures. At least we had all our clothes on! Until next time, Diva Divine

Bring on the noise, leave out the funk

I just got home from the gym. I should be in the shower, but I had to write about this while it was still fresh in my mind. I get to the gym this morning, all ready to listen to some tunes on my iPod. I get my headphones on, loop them through my shirt and down my arm, plug them into my iPod and.... Nothing!!!! I make sure it's not in the "hold" position. No, it's on. I hit the menu button again. NOTHING! I do everything I know, but still NOTHING. I left my headphones on because I figure it would keep some of the noise out from people who just talk and don't workout.

I went back to stretch out after my warm up. I came back to do some cardio when I catch a whiff of some shittastic funk. Seriously, it was so foul I almost threw up in my mouth a little bit. I know I smell something fierce when I get done with my workout, but when I get to the gym, I don't smell too bad. This person brought that funk with them. That was left over from the weekend funk. That was I don't shower and then I come and sweat funk. Yuck! Leave that funk at home. Nobody wants to smell that funk.

I have to get my funktastic self in the shower so I can get to work and not take my funk with me. No, I am not going to go to work and smell all funky and jank the place up! No, I am a clean Diva! Until next time, Keep the noise, and leave the funk! Diva Divine

Update: I forgot to tell you all I had to listen to Boy George this morning at the gym. Seriously, Boy effing George at 6:10 in the morning, that is just torture. Come on people take him off the playlist! Sorry to offend any BG fans out there, but BG not my cup of tea. And just to let you all know, my iPod battery died. Probably from getting switched on in my purse and playing since, ummm, Saturday. I am charging it up so I can rock out tomorrow. TTFN, DD

Friday, October 10, 2008

Give the people what they want…I’m bringin’ janky back…don’t make me have to cut you…Ginny is back, let the shillelagh hitting begin!

I know I have not been so consistent about blogging lately. I have been trying to get my apartment in order, which seems to be a losing battle. I can’t get the boxes unpacked and I am not at all motivated to get it done either. When I get home at a normal time, I want to sit down and enjoy myself. Kick off my shoes, put my feet up, watch some television, and relax. I sort of put off writing until it is too late and I have to get my large butt in bed. I have stuff I know would entertain all of you, but I’m too tired to get it out there. Then, there are times when I am busy. I make it home in time to eat dinner, shower and go to bed. Usually in that order.

So today, I got a message from Carrie Jo telling me I need to write more because “working too much is not an excuse!” Which I know was said in jest. I guess it all comes down to remembering this “Give the people what they want”, which is what I always saw right before we go out to sing at Christmas. I do some dumb little dance and clap this stupid rhythm and say “Give the people what they want!” But it’s true. You have to give the people what they want. If you want blog entries, blog entries you will get.

I also got a comment today from someone applauding my use of the word Janky! I love the word janky and all the derivatives I can invent! So, I am going to do my best at bringin’ janky back, ‘cause if Justin can bring sexy back, then I, the Diva, can bring janky back!

I am sitting at the nursing home right now and I swear some of these people want me to cut them. This one guy keeps messing up the door and I am seriously going to knock him into next week! He is a little shit, it wouldn’t take much to knock him out! The other day, some lady almost tore the door off the hinges because she wouldn’t read the sign that said “Push the red button to release the lock” or listen when I said “STOP!!!!!” When I let her in she looks at me and says “That door sticks!” No nimrod, it is locked and you have to push the red button to get in, which you would have known if you had read the sign! Here’s your sign!!!! Come to find out, she was at the wrong nursing home! That made me want to beat her even more!

This morning I used the gym at my apartment complex for the first time. I figured no one would be there, but I was wrong. I walked up to the door and put my key in and I could hear the television…outside. This guy had the television up so loud, you could hear it OUTSIDE!!! WTF? Are you deaf or something? I nearly went deaf just walking in. The volume was up so loud, I couldn’t ask him to turn it down because he wouldn’t have heard me. It was awful. I put my iPod on and tried to drown it out, but it was so loud, that was impossible. Deaf Boy finally left, but before he did, he asked me (over the blaring television) if I wanted to keep the television on? HUH? WHAT DID YOU SAY? NO, TURN IT OFF!! Hell, just turn it down so I can hear again. I should have cut him! Dumb, deaf ass boy!

Ginny has been in Ireland. I sent her a text and told her I wanted a shillelagh. So, she is bringing me back a shillelagh I can use to hit people. I can’t wait! Shillelagh law rules!!!!! I will take the shillelagh with me to the nursing home and hit people who can’t read the sign on the door. That sounds like a plan!! Until next time, Diva Divine

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Sick and wrong....

I am trying to get my house in order. So far, I am not doing such a good job. I have only managed to make more messes. I went to Wal-Mart tonight to pick up shelf paper for my cabinets. I picked up some little organizing gadgetry for my cabinets, too. I was so excited to get things organized I came home and went right to work. The only problem, the stuff won't fit in my cabinet. Are you kidding me? The hanging basket for cups, nope. The duel shelving units, nope. The only thing that did fit was the three tiered spice rack. And really, it doesn't do all that much for me. It just keeps me from losing the little jars in the cabinet.

So, I start looking in the den and going through my shoes. I have a thirty gallon tote full of shoes and that is not the only tote I have with shoes in it. That my friends is what you call sick and wrong. No one, and I repeat, no one needs that many pairs of shoes. It was too overwhelming to deal with the shoe issue, so I had to leave the shoes for another day. Another project abandoned.

I have managed to bring in a few things from the car or the garage the past two days. I guess I will have to count that as a victory. Albeit, a small victory. I found my silverware and dish washing soap. I loaded the dishwasher last night and I have clean dishes. Of course, they are still in the dishwasher. Well, I was on a roll there for a minute.

I really could stay home and work all day and maybe get stuff in order, but that isn't really an option. I might have some time on Saturday, but I have some things planned for the afternoon and evening. I work Sunday afternoon and then it is time to go back to my real job on Monday. I leave for Massachusetts two weeks from Friday. I have to get this place in order so I can deal with my life and get myself organized. I think it might be a good idea to just throw out the boxes and start all over again. I could buy all the stuff I like that is new now and forget about the old junk. Yeah, don't really think that is such a good idea because that would get very expensive.

So, I am going back to the kitchen and I am going to try to get my stuff in order. I might end up being on the eleven o'clock news "Nonprofit worker goes postal on kitchen cabinets and rips them off walls. Film at eleven." Until next time, Diva Divine

Monday, September 29, 2008

Goodbye Velma, GI Joe and Cowboy Bob-I won't miss any of you.

Sorry I have not been updating lately. I've been a little busy. I had to work both of my jobs one week. That meant 57 hours of work in one week....I was so tired and by the time I got home, I was too tired to do anything other than eat dinner and go to bed. Then, last week I was busy packing for my move. I moved Friday. I never want to move again. I am not joking. I seriously never want to move again. I don't want to pack another box or schedule another moving team. I know I will eat those words someday, but for right now, I don't want to think about moving again.

Saturday I had to run back to the other apartment to pick up my cable box because the movers wouldn't move it for some reason. Anyhow, I ran in and picked up the cable unit, I walked back out of my apartment and of course I was ready to drop all the stuff because I think it is only right to try to carry ten thousand things at one time. That's how I roll. When I was coming out I had to stop and lock the door, I was talking to myself, I am sure of it when all the sudden, Velma (weird next door neighbor) opens her door, looks at me and then closes the door. Okay Velma, were you looking for Scooby and Shaggy? Did you really need to open the door and look at me? No, I don't think so. You were just being nosy and I should have kicked your ass or cut you. I am so glad to be out of there, away from Velma, Cowboy Bob and GI Joe because they were sort of janky ghetto. Seriously, Velma put some note on her mailbox that she only wanted the mailman to put mail in her box addressed to her. Velma, I think you have had one too many rides in the Mystery Machine with Shaggy and took a few too many tokes from the reefer, because the mailman doesn't have time to look at all the mail he puts in your box. Do what everyone else does and throw the junk away. DUH!! Velma, for being a student at the prestigious local university, you are dumber than a damn stump.

I was also tired of Cowboy Bob and his nasty boots in the hallway, tracking in crap all over the carpet. I was also over GI Joe and his yappy dog and his loud ass wife who screamed at the dog all the time for being a bad puppy. I don't need all that mess in my life. I have enough foolishness going on and I don't have time to deal with all their foolishness, too. I hadn't realized how much the apartment complex had become the den of jankiness until I left. Just one night at the new apartment and I had my eyes opened.

The new apartment is so quiet and nice. I love it so far. Other than the fact that my car is too wide to fit in my garage, everything else has been good. They are going to see if someone will switch garages with me so I can have a garage too. So, when that happens, things will be FAB-U-LOUS!!

I am off to take a shower and then to bed. I am so tired I had trouble staying awake at work today. I have to sleep tonight so I can be back on top of my game tomorrow. I really wish the nice unpacking fairies would come and take the things out of my car that I had to put in there today. I still have a few things at the other apartment. I have to turn in my keys tomorrow, so I have to get it all out by tomorrow. I only have a few things, it won't take my long to get done. I just want it to be done. I am falling asleep. Until next time, Diva Divine

Thursday, September 18, 2008

I was going to donate my blood; you didn't have to nearly kill me for it!

I gave blood yesterday. There was a time when I donated blood on a fairly regular basis. Back when I had time to be a do-gooder. When I traveled to Honduras in 2005, I wasn’t allowed to give blood for one year because I had been to a country where I could have been exposed to malaria and I had to have a blue million shots and a prescription of anti-malaria meds. They don’t want your blood if those things have been floating around in there. I sort of got out of the habit of donating after that. We actually had a blood drive at work yesterday, so I signed up to donate. I thought it was a good time to get back in that habit again. They brought the little blood bus out to us and they actually paid us to go out and give blood. It was really cool.
When it was my turn to roll up my sleeve, I got the chatty phlebotomist. Why do I always get people who want to talk my leg off? Seriously, there were no phones ringing, no people wanting this and that from me, I could just lean back and relax for ten minutes. No, I have the guy who wants to sing every song that comes on the radio and talk my leg off. I wanted to tell him “Please be quiet so I can enjoy this time without my phone ringing. Thank you.” But, I really couldn’t say that to him, so I had to listen to him yak on and on and sing and aggravate me. I should have taken the needle and gouged his eyes out. That would have stopped him from yakking so much don’t you think?
Anyhow, Mr. Phlebotomist preps me for my donation. He swabs my arm with something for at least 45 seconds and then tells me “Now you will feel a little stick and a sting.” Yeah, I’ve done this a bunch of times. I know the drill. Then, he sticks me and I almost went through the roof of the blood bus. I thought he cut my arm in half. The pain shot up my arm and I had tears in my eyes. It hurt like hell. He blamed it on the tourniquet. The tourniquet, hell, his blood drawing skills was the problem, not the tourniquet. He loosened the tourniquet and it didn’t help much, but I didn’t want to tell him “My arm still hurts because you didn’t get the needle in there right.” I have no right to tell him he didn’t do his job right when I have no clue how to do his job. I just know from experience it wasn’t right. I also didn’t want to be stuck a second time. I am a fast bleeder, so I knew it would be over soon. Okay, I prayed it would be over soon.
I was able to fill my blood bag in about seven minutes. I told you I am a fast bleeder. I ate my yogurt and fruit and got the hell off the blood bus. I was in so much pain I thought my arm was going to fall off. Plus, I was tired of listening to Mr. I Really Can’t Shut Up Phlebotomist sing another bad 80’s tune. Yes, I would have really rather dealt with my phone ringing. I hurried back to my desk and popped four Advil and prayed for the pain to cease. Or, I was going to go hack my arm off in the bathroom with a plastic knife and spoon.
I have a nice bruise on my arm today, but thankfully the pain is gone. After three doses of Advil, I should be feeling like a million dollars and my liver is close to having toxic levels of meds. I hope Mr. Phlebotomist found someone else to serenade because maybe there is someone in the world who could appreciate him and his voice. I couldn’t be counted among those people because I am too mean and cranky. Actually, my problem is lack of sleep. I am have been working both jobs this week, except last night when I met my sorority sisters for dinner. I am so tired I could put my head down on this desk and fall asleep, even with the awful live music we are having tonight (Gotta love bad versions of All My Ex’s Live in Texas and Johnny B. Good…oh yes, I so want this guy to play at my next event…not!). I didn’t want to get up this morning and go to the gym, but I felt like such a fat ass after eating out last night, I knew I had to get up and do something. I just have to make it through tomorrow and then I can sort of sleep in Saturday because I have to work Saturday morning from 10 until 3. We are having Girls Night Out Saturday night, which should be fun!!! Just one more day of doing both jobs and Saturday morning should be easy. Next week however is going to be a big pain because I am moving Friday and I have not packed the first box. Yeah, can you say someone will be a big pain in the ass next week because she didn’t get stuff done prior to this move? No, I have no idea who that pain in the ass would be. Only 15 more minutes here in Country Music Hell…not like I’m counting or anything. Until next time, Diva Divine

Saturday, September 13, 2008

I swear this happened! It's too good to make it up

(setting: 6:45, Monday evening.....lobby of the nursing home)

Diva sits at the front desk, editing The Leadership Guide on her kick ass MacBook while Larry, the night maintenance guy, vacuums the main dining room.
The phone rings, the Diva picks it up

Diva: Good evening, thank you for calling (insert the nursing home name here).
Caller: Yes, I was wondering if you were hiring RN's at this time? Is there someone there I could talk to about a position?
Diva: Yes we are currently hiring RN's and LPN's, but Kim, who you would need to talk to about the position, is already gone for the day. You are more than welcome to stop in and pick up an application. I will be here until 7:30 this evening and our daytime receptionist will be in at 8:30. You can come and pi ck up an application and..... (caller interrupts Diva..she interrupted the Diva!!!)
Caller: I would like to do that however (Diva knows she is going to hear a good story now....) with the price of gas being so high, I was hoping to talk with someone and do a phone interview instead.
Diva sits with her mouth agape.....she is speechless....did this lady just say she can't come in and get an application because gas is too expensive?...surely, my ears were mistaken.
Diva: I can give you Kim's voicemail and she will be in tomorrow. Would you like me to connect you to her voicemail? (Diva is still stunned at the audacity of some people)
Caller: Yes, I would like her voicemail.
Diva: Thank you, I will transfer you to her voicemail.
Diva transfers the line to voicemail and has to physically close her mouth before the residents families mistake her for a resident who got off the ward and they try to admit her.

I am not making this up...this really did happen. I wonder how she was going to be able to come to an interview if she couldn't afford to drive to pick up an application. How was she going to come to work if she got the position? Did she think we were going to send the residents to her?? Oh, for the love of Pete, the audacity of people just slays me. I bet if I told her we would bring the application to her, she would have taken me up on the offer. Better yet, I should have offered to fill the application out for her via the phone....

On a happy of our residents, Opal, turned 103 today! She lived alone until last year when she started to suffer from dementia...I swear the lady doesn't look a day over 70. She looks better than some 50 year olds I know....I want to look that good if I ever make it to 103! She went out to dinner with her nephew and she looked more like his sister than his aunt! I think Opal has been living right! Happy Birthday, Miss Opal!!! Until next time, Diva Divine

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Scary!!! Pageant Queens abound!

I am watching "Painted Babies at 17" on TLC. The show is a documentary about little girls who compete in pageants. The original show aired in 1995 and now they have gone back to interview two girls who were only five when the first filming. I couldn't imagine being up on a stage and being objectified by people. It's kind of creepy. But I guess if they love doing it, why not. However, I have to say that someone needs to tell these girls just because you are cute, doesn't mean you can sing. Seriously, being off key and scream-singing might be cute when you are three or four, but not at 17. That isn't talent, it's annoying.

Then, you have this scary emcee named Tim. He gives me the creeps just seeing him on television and I wouldn't see how he doesn't creep out the parents and the kids. How can you honestly tell people "I emcee little girl's beauty pageants for a living." Hello, that would send up a red flag and sound the weird-o alarm. He might really be a nice guy, but his spontaneous renderings of songs scares me shitless. He should just go work on a cruise ship because at least that would not be as weird as working as a pageant emcee and he would probably make a whole lot more money.

Why is it that all the girls have to look like Barbie with a smile permanently plastered on their faces? I don't think I have ever smiled that much in my life. The only time I came close was during sorority rush. My face hurt for a week afterward. Also, the girls in these pageants have Barbie Blonde hair and the hair has to be BIG. All the girls have big hair, no matter their age. It's like they are little trolls whose bodies grow out of this big mass of hair. Maybe that is the secret. You have to start life as a little ball of hair and your body just grows from there? Maybe that is how they stay so thin? Maybe they can smile so much because their hair is pulled so tight and has so much hairspray in it so it doesn't move when they go on stage and change outfits.

So, I have been scared to death I hope I don't have nightmares. I will say if the kids like going to the pageants and competing then why not do it? Just as long as they like doing it and it's fun for them. However, I think some of them are doing it to keep their parents happy and the parents are living their lives through their kids. To each their own. Until next time, Diva Divine

Friday, September 5, 2008

Yes, I am still alive

I've been a little busy the past few days. Sorry for the hiatus. I thought I was going to have to go all carnival freak crazy on my apartment complex management because they suck. I told them weeks ago my air conditioning wasn't working right, but they didn't come to work on it because that would have been too easy. So, when I came home Tuesday, my apartment was 10,000 degrees. You guessed it, my air conditioning was not working. I called the emergency maintenance line and leave a message. No one calls me back. So, I call again an hour later. No one calls. I call a third time, two hours after my first call. Nothing. By this time, it was 10:20 and there was no way I was going to be able to sleep in my house because it was so hot I could not breath. So, I packed up my stuff and went to a hotel for the night. I was so mad they didn't call me back and I was hot and grumpy. I didn't want to spend the money to go to a hotel, but I really didn't have a choice.

The next day, I called the office to see if they were going to fix my A/C and the little byotch in the office got smart with me. I think she wanted me to cut her or something. She said I didn't call and leave the message on the right mailbox so that is why my call was never returned. Okay, I have lived here for four years, I know how to leave a message for emergency maintenance, byotch. I almost went through the phone and scratched her eyes out, but I was at work and I didn't want to have to go all ghetto on her. I will get her when she least expects it. Seriously, she will get what is coming to her.

They finally came and fixed my A/C Wednesday. It was being obstructed by weeds!!! Are you kidding me? Don't the gardening people cut the weeds down around here? They are here practically every other day. What the hell do they do when they are here? Sit around and play with their weed-eaters and put their thumbs up their asses and rotate on them? Really, why can't people do their jobs?

I am really exhausted and I just want to go to bed. I think I will do that shortly. This week, even though we only worked four days, seemed so cram packed with stuff to do. I am just exhausted. Until next time, Diva Divine

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Shalonda you were so wrong!

I went to the eye doctor today for a check up. I hadn’t been in about a year and a half and I had some sneaking suspicion my prescription had changed because it was becoming more difficult to see small print. I thought it could just be the fact that I don’t change my contacts as often as I should, but even when I would change them, things would only get better for a day or two and then I was straining my eyes again to see. I was also concerned about my lack of depth perception, which was pointed out to me when I failed that section of my physical with Shalonda back in July. I thought Shalonda was full of sh…. well, you get the picture, but I still had it in the back of my mind that I was having trouble with my vision.

I had gone to the same eye doctor since I was seven years old. I was one of his first patients when he finished med school. But, now that I am living over a hour from his office and paying $3.53 a gallon for gas, my loyalty flew out the window when I realized I could go to an eye doctor who was a mere five minutes from my house. I do feel a little bit like a traitor, but I am really not in the mood to drive all that way just to see my old doctor and have the same exam I could have done by any eye doctor.

I picked an eye doctor who is in a group of several doctors. The company has several offices all over the city, so even if my doctor wasn’t able to see me in an emergency, there would be other doctors in the group that I could go to. The group has been in practice for several years, so I felt comfortable going to see the doctor because if you say the name of the group, people automatically know what you are talking about and their reputation is very good. They are also locally owned by the same family who started the practice so they aren’t going anywhere. Not to mention they have really funny television commercials. Oh course, that is no reason to pick one doctor over another, but advertising does make a big difference and play a roll in those types of decisions, even if we don’t want to admit it to ourselves or anyone else for that matter.

So, I went in for my exam and it was the most complete eye exam I had ever had before. They tested me for glaucoma, cataracts, they measured this and took pictures of that, I had five tests before I ever went into the exam room. I then had to read the eye chart and all those fun things you do when you go to the eye doctor. I made sure I told the person doing the different exams on me that I had failed the depth perception test in July. She said “Well, that’s funny because you passed the one I just gave you here!” So ha, Shalonda! I am not a big depth perception test failer. Stick that in your peace pipe and smoke it Shalonda! Boo yeah!

When the doctor came in she says to me “I see your prescription shows you are…” she was trying to find a nice way to say blind. I said to her “blind?” “Not blind, but it’s really strong.” That’s a nice way of saying blind. I had to do all those tests where they put the different lenses in front of your eyes and ask “Which one is better, one or two?” That test makes me nervous because I am afraid of picking the wrong one and getting a bad prescription. This time it didn’t seem as hard to find the one that looked better, so I knew my eyes had changed. I love being blind.

I asked the doctor about failing the depth perception test and she explained why I had such difficulty. Since I am so nearsighted, my brain doesn’t see things like everyone who is not nearsighted. My eyes can’t focus on things together, they have to do it one at a time, so when things are at different depths are difficult for me to discern. My brain wants to use both eyes together to determine the depth of things, but my eyes can’t do that so, it sends the wrong message to my brain and that is why I can’t see things in varied depths. So, I didn’t really fail the test, it was because my eyes are so screwed up! Again, suck on that one, Shalonda!!!

After my exam, the doctor told me my prescription had changed and I am now -8.0 in one eye and -7.50 in the other. I guess it’s not really that bad considering my prescription hadn’t changed in about 10 years. So, I got new contacts and I can see a lot better now. These are probably the most comfortable contacts I’ve had ever. Even if I can now be called “Blind Betty”…until next time, Diva Divine

Thursday, August 28, 2008


I had to run a conference call today, the first one I have ever done on my own. I had to also use an online web meeting tool because we were editing a document and everyone needed to see it. I was a little apprehensive about it because you never want to look like a dumb ass in front of people, especially online and especially when you are new at a job. My boss was supposed to be there with me because she was supposed to be in on the editing too, but she ended up bailing out on me. Well, things were okay until one of the people's cell phones died and all they had was internet access. Then, I mentioned we could chat with her via the web tool and that is when things went south. The two people who were offsite started chatting to one another, in a private chat and weren't paying any attention to what we were supposed to be doing. When I called them on it, because I could see the chat icon going when nothing was coming up on the screen, they were all like "We aren't chatting....." Oh, so that icon is going on and off all by itself? Are you f-ing kidding me? Do you think I am a stupid? You can waste your own time, but I really don't have time to waste waiting for you to comment on something we are getting paid to work on. I had a ton of work on my desk that was piling up and I had to spend two hours doing something that could have been done in an hour if they hadn't been messing around. Whatever! Don't make me go all Diva on your asses!

I think today was just not my day. I have been trying to return this lady's phone call for a week. I have left her messages and she won't call me back. She won't call me back, she will only call my boss. Guess I'm not good enough for her to talk to or important enough. Okay lady, when I give you my number and say I need you to call me, you better call me or at least tell my boss I had left you messages. No, the lady doesn't tell her this, so I look like a dumb ass who doesn't do her job. I emailed her today and said "We've been playing phone tag. Please email me or call so I can get your information to you." What does she do? She calls my boss again!!! AYFKM??? I didn't know if I should cry or scream. Possibly both. I tell my boss, over the cubicle wall after she gets off the phone, "That lady is seriously making me mad. She won't return my calls or my emails. She is making me look like I didn't do my job." So, I emailed her the information she wanted and if she calls back and says she didn't get it, I will have to go all Diva on her ass because I have the email delivery receipt to prove I did send it and it was delivered.

We do these things called "huddles" with our team everyday. We talk about what we are working on and stuff like that to keep everyone up to date. I have an awful short-term memory and I have to have a list. Anyhow, I go through my stuff and my boss butts in and more or less says that I shouldn't be going over my things I am doing and then proceeds to make me feel like a dumb ass in front of everyone. Especially when everyone else does exactly what I do in the huddle every morning and they don't get jumped for it. I really wanted to cry. I just think it wasn't my day.

Now, I am sitting in bed with my knee propped up on a pillow because it is hurting. I should be asleep, but I couldn't fall asleep so I got up and turned on my computer hoping writing all this out would help me get over it and be able to fall asleep. I have so many things that are really eating at me and adding this to those things isn't helping matters. I want to sit down and just cry, just try to get it all out, but I can't. There are times when I have unpleasant thoughts. Sometimes they are fleeting thoughts and other times, they last longer. I have worked so hard to push those thoughts away, but I can't do it all the time and when things start going wrong in other areas, it becomes increasingly harder to keep it all together. I try so hard, but I am just not strong enough. I just need to get my life together or get my head on straight.....until next time, Diva Divine

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

What part of health class did these people miss?

Everyone knows how I am about showering after being at the gym. Well, it seems some people missed the part of health class when they talked about that subject. I had this feeling a girl at the gym wasn't showering, but I wasn't sure. Today, I had confirmation she doesn't shower. I got out of the shower and I saw her get her stuff out of the locker. I thought she was leaving. However, I was wrong because just as I was finishing getting ready she comes back in dressed and she gets her coat out of the locker, puts it on and leaves. Unless she is Superwoman and gets dressed in phone booths, she didn't shower before she left for work and she was dressed for work. She had been in the tanning bed (don't even get me started on that.... she is stinky and will have skin like a leather boot in ten years) and got dressed in there! GROSS!!! Not only did she sweat when she worked out, but she was probably sweating in the tanning bed. I really don't get it... what's so difficult about showering after sweating?? I want to post a sign that says "Shower after you workout because no one wants to smell your nasty ass body odor all day at work!" Do you think I could get away with that? Let me know.... Until next time, please shower after you sweat, Diva Divine

Monday, August 25, 2008

Who Knew??

I emailed my boss yesterday about not finding a sugar daddy at the wedding on Saturday. I also told her about the old geezer who was oogling my goodies. She wrote back and told me letting an old geezer oogle your goodies was community service. I saw my new neighbor yesterday. I think she is Velma from Scooby Doo. Who knew? Until next time, Diva Divine

Sunday, August 24, 2008

No sugar daddies to be found....stop oogling my goodies you pervert....Am I weird???

I went to the wedding Saturday in all my fabulosity. My dress looked good, especially with my pink shoes and my little black purse. My hair cooperated, thanks be to God, and I remembered I had glittery hairspray, so I used it to add a little shine to my hair and also to my shoulders and back. (That’s what happens when you spray the stuff, it doesn’t all stay on your hair, it falls on your back and shoulders and on the counter top and the magazines you have on the floor and….) I managed to remember my jewelry and I got out the door on time! Sometimes, that is a feat in and of itself.

The wedding was very beautiful. I loved the dresses the bride had chosen. Everything was very simple and very elegant. Everyone loved our music. It was a good day all around.

The reception didn’t start for almost two hours after the wedding and since I wasn’t about to drive back home and I was too dressed up to go to Target to kill time, a group of us went down to the reception venue and had drinks. This was also good because it ensured that I got a good parking spot. Even though my heels were very comfortable, I didn’t want to walk half a mile both ways just to get there. Did I mention it was 92 degrees yesterday? Yeah, I wasn’t about to walk a half a mile in 92 degree heat in my dress and heels. No merci! The Diva did not sign up for that foolishness.
So, we were all sitting at this big round table, having drinks and appetizers when this older couple walks in and is seated at this table next to ours. The lady had her back to us and the guy was looking right at us. He sort of gave me the creeps, but I was willing to let it slide because I was sipping a nice big Midori sour and getting buzzed. Then I notice the creepy old guy keeps looking over and staring at me and my chest. Hello, you old pervert! Stop looking at my goodies! They aren’t even real. You would be mad if you realized they were chicken cutlets.

It totally set me off. Perhaps it was the alcohol which really helped to make the situation seem more like a big deal than it was, but the guy wouldn’t stop looking over at me and I don’t think he was looking at me because he thought I was cute or he liked my dress. He was looking at my boobage! Yuck, you old geezer! Stop oogling my goodies! You dirty old pervert!
So, after being oogled my some dirty old pervert for the better part of an hour, we went into the reception hall so get our seats. We had no sooner gotten our seats and sat down to chat when Mr. Pervert and his Oblivious Wife walk in and are seated at the table right next to ours!!!! You have got to be kidding me! He is going to oogle my the entire time I am at this reception, too? Oh, hell-to-the-no! My alcohol buzz had worn off by this time, so I was ready to rumble. Lucky for me, the person seated in his line of site was taller than him and he couldn’t stare at me any more. Had that not happened, I’d probably have gone over and kicked is old geezer ass because he had no reason to keep looking at me. I wanted to yell at him and say “Hey, asshole, they’re not even real!! So stop looking at them! You can buy your old cranky wife a pair at Wal-Mart if you like them so much!”

This brings me to a question. All these people yesterday were all teary eyed and weepy at the wedding and the reception when they were giving the toasts. I am sure part of it is because they had known the groom since he was a little kid, but that can’t be all of it. Why do people cry at weddings? It’s supposed to be a happy time. It’s the start of a new life for two people, a new family is being formed, it’s a happy occasion. Why the tears? I think if you are crying you are sad they are getting married and that is not a good thing. I have been to a lot of weddings and I don’t cry. I think I am a freak because I don’t cry at weddings. I think I am not normal because I don’t cry at weddings. What’s the answer? Normal? Abnormal? Please discuss and let me know. Maybe I can conjure up some tears for the next wedding? Until next time, Diva Divine

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Vengeance, sweet vengeance

I went to get my haircut today. Before you get all technical, I had all my hairs cut, not just one. Yes, I am a smart ass. Better to be a smart ass than a dumb ass. If you recall, the last time I went to have my hair cut, I had a pedicure as well and it was a less than stellar experience. The pedicurist wouldn't shut her mouth, she offended me by making a comment about my hair cut and the pedicure wasn't the best one I've had in my life and I have had a lot of pedicures in my life. I had something to compare the experience to.

So, back to my story. I went to get my hair cut and I had decided to tell my stylist how offended I was by the pedicurist the last time I was in the salon. She just really rubbed me the wrong way. I expect if I am paying for a service, I should not have to be offended. She had to be told you don't treat customers that way, especially someone who has been a customer for several years. I am known for tipping well and I have never been dissatisfied with the service I have gotten, until six weeks ago when Chatty Cathy had to be a total byotch and ruin the perfect record.

I had it all worked out in my mind how I was going to tell my stylist that Chatty Cathy had offended me the last time I had been in and that he really should talk to her about her client interaction skills. Well, when I went in Chatty Cathy was just lounging in one of the chairs, chatting to someone who was getting their hair cut.... imagine that! I couldn't tell my stylist about her while she was sitting there. Ah! Chatty Cathy is like that pimple that won't go away!

I thought I would tell him after he put the color on my hair, but when I went to sit down and wait for my eyebrow wax, she was still hanging around. I was sitting there, reading a magazine when she has the audacity to come up and ask me if I wanted a manicure or pedicure while I was waiting. Are you f-ing kidding me?? Seriously, I should have just busted her balls right there, but I decided to be a grown-up and politely say "no." Then, my stylist and my eye brow guy, come back to the desk and start talking. I was going to go back and talk to them, since they own the salon, but then Chatty Cathy, like a bad cold, wouldn't go away.

I really was engrossed in my magazine and I could hear them talking. It didn't sound like it was going too good. Ha! I thought, Chatty Cathy is getting in trouble. She gets done talking to them and walks off. I went back to get my brows waxed and I decided it might be the only time I could be free of Chatty Cathy, so I decided to tell my eye brow guy.

I sit down in the chair and I tell my eye brow guy how Chatty Cathy offended me the last time I was in and how I didn't think I would be coming back to get a pedi from her anytime soon. Then, he drops a big bomb on me and says "Yeah, you won't have to worry about that anymore, because we just fired her!" What?? Chatty Cathy got fired because she just sucked! Actually, she didn't do what they asked her to do and she didn't do her share of the work, so Chatty Cathy got the boot! Bye-bye Chatty Cathy! Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

So, I didn't have to feel bad about telling how mad Chatty Cathy had made me and possibly getting her in trouble because she cooked her own goose. No more being told "Well, that's an interesting hair cut" or having someone talk the whole time they are giving me a pedicure. Bye-bye Chatty Cathy, nice knowing ya....not!! Until next time, Diva Divine

BTW, my hair looks fierce!

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

This is what my life has come to....I think I have the beginnings of the perfect country song

This is what my life has come to......

I am singing at a wedding on Saturday. I decided to treat myself to a new dress for the occasion. Why not? Seriously, like I really need an excuse to shop. Yeah, I didn't think so. So, I found a dress on sale. Actually, it was the first dress I tried on. I loved the way it looked and I figured that was as good of an excuse as any. I tried on four other dresses, but none of them made me feel the way that the first dress did when I put it on and looked in the mirror. The only fly in the ointment was I lacked enough boobs to fill the top of the dress out. Yes, my lack of a rack had gotten me again. But I decided that I loved the dress so much I would deal with my lack of boobs later.

So, I bought the dress and last night I went to buy myself some boobs. This is what my life has come to. I have to go buy my boobs so I can fill out the top of a dress. The good Lord giveth and the plastic surgeon taketh away, but the Diva can drop in a pair of "chicken cutlets" and instant cleavage for less than $20.00. No surgery, no hospital visit, no doctor visits, no recovery period. Even better, I can take out the boobs when I don't want them and put them back in when I do. It's the best of both worlds.

I found my chicken cutlets at Wal-Mart. Okay, this sounds like the perfect country song-"I bought my boobs at Wal-Mart, they cost $15.97. I found them next to the trashy underwear and close to checkout 11. I bought my brand new boobs so I could wear my dress, I just hope I don't get near something sharp 'cause that would be a mess! Oh I bought my boobs at Wal-Mart and now I have a rack, all the boys will look at me and say "hot damn she's stacked!" But if those boys get frisky and their hands move up too high, they might get wise and exclaim "Those aren't real, you false advertise!"

Okay, now that I have laughed myself silly, I will leave you with that catchy little ditty. Feel free to send me more lyrics. I think my little song could be a smash hit. Until next time, Diva Divine

Friday, August 15, 2008

Do I look pregnant, Nurse Know Nothing?

I went to the doctor this morning for a check-up. I would have rather gone to face the firing squad to tell you the truth. You see, I had to go to the OB/Gyn which is not one of my favorite places to go because it is just not much fun. You know what is in store for you, so it’s not really an enjoyable experience. I am much better about it than I used to be though there were times when I would totally flip out when I knew I had an appointment. Now, I can deal with it but I still don’t look forward to the visit.

First off, since I am new at work, I don’t have any sick days or vacation time yet. So, I had to manipulate my schedule so I would be able to get all my hours in for today. I also had to go to Mass this morning for the Feast of the Assumption. I picked the 6:30 Mass because I knew that would allow me to get to work by 7:30 at the latest. After Mass, I ran to work for about 45 minutes so I could get some things done. I had to edit the PowerPoint presentations for Mr. Meany Pants President, which took me the entire 45 minutes to do. Then, I ran to the doctor for my fun, fun, fun visit.

I almost didn’t make it on time because I got behind some idiot who didn’t know how to drive. Then, I had all the people in front of me who don’t know how to maneuver roundabouts, so they wanted me to beat them senseless with a big stick. I picked the first parking spot I could find and ran into the building, which is not small by any means. It’s part of the hospital, so it’s not like going to a regular doctor’s office, you have all the people who are going to the hospital, some going to other doctors in the building and lots of people just going everywhere.

I walked in the office at 8:15, which was 15 minutes before my appointment, but they make you come early to check your insurance and other information. Yeah, like they couldn’t do that over the phone or let me fax it to them. So, after I update my information, which takes all of 2 minutes, I have to sit and wait in the waiting room with the pregnant women who look all cute and then with the stuck up middle age women who gave me the once over when I sat down one chair away from her. What the hell? Don’t give me the evil eye byotch. Just because I sat down in the same row of chairs as you doesn’t mean I’ll give you cooties or anything like that. I’ve had my vaccines.

My appointment time comes and goes. Almost all the people who came in after me, even Ms. Stuck up Middle Aged women, get called for their appointments. Their appointments couldn’t have been much before or after mine, so why am I still sitting here waiting to have some doctor look at my girly bits and have some speculum stuck up my vajayjay? Dealing with Mr. Meany Pants President would be 10,000 times more enjoyable. I was beginning to think I should tell the little receptionist I needed to leave and go back to work if this was going to take much longer because I didn’t have time to waste. As it was, I had eaten up all the time I had banked by going in early Thursday and this morning and I couldn’t stay late because I had to work at the nursing home at 4:30. Just when I was ready to leave, they called my name.

The nurse took me back to weigh me, my second least favorite thing to do, and she took me to the exam room. She took my blood pressure, which I had to let her know, is always low. The last time I was there, they thought I was dead because my blood pressure was so low. Just because I am a big girl doesn’t mean I have high blood pressure. Then, she asks me “Are you here for a post-partum check-up?” Post-partum, meaning having had a baby come forth from my loins? Um, no! She is baffled. I guess she assumed because I am a big girl, I had just given birth. Then, she asks if I am there for a pre-natal visit. By Pre-natal, you mean pregnant. Oh, hell-to-the-no! I seriously wanted to say “Lori (that was her name) check my damn chart and it will tell you why I am here today!!! Here’s your sign!” But, I refrained. Next, Nurse No Brains asks “Do you have your uterus?” Yes, last time I checked. Although, I would like to trade it in for a newer model because the current version is tipped and tilted to one side, which I found out can make it difficult to conceive and have children. “What about your ovaries?” Well, even though they had trouble finding them on the ultrasound in February, I do indeed have ovaries, which sometimes work and other times, they don’t. However, I do still have them intact. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I know the office is busy and I know they see a lot of patients, but does it really take that long to just look at the person’s information? They actually have it all on their little laptops. It’s not like they have to go to the ends of the Earth to find out if I have just given birth or if I still have all my girly parts.

After my near showdown with Nurse Know Nothing, I have to get undressed from the waist down and sit with the nice sheet across my body and wait for the doctor. Oh, joy and rapture! I can’t wait for that nice cold speculum. Oh, what fun it is to be a girl. The doctor comes in, gives me some small talk and then, it's time for the fun. The exam isn't so bad, it actually went really quickly and it was over. I think I spent more time sitting in the waiting room than I did for my whole exam. I am just glad it is over. I'm still mad at Nurse Know Nothing thought I looked pregnant or like I had been pregnant. What a dumb butt. So, until next time, Diva Divine

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Should I be mourning?

This week is the start of the school year for many little children here in the metropolis. After 11 years of teaching, it seems a little strange that I am not going back to school as well. No ceremonial purchasing of school supplies, no getting a room ready for the first day of classes, no class lists to go over, no nametags to write out. Gone are the first day jitters of meeting the new students and their parents and the “It’s the first day of school and I didn’t get my classroom ready” nightmares. My life, or what was my life for the last 11 years, is no more. I have joined the ranks of the “real world” work force. I am now one of the people who don’t get spring break or a long weekend in the fall. No, now I am a grown up, with office hours. I have a desk I can actually sit at when I am working (I rarely ever had the chance to sit at my desk when I taught except when the students were gone for the day or maybe when I had a prep period), a cubicle of my own where I can leave my purse out along with my laptop and iPod, without worrying someone will take them. I have a real lunch break, something I have never had in my professional career. I can sit down and eat, enjoy my lunch, instead of standing in front of a microwave, waiting in the queue to heat up my meal du jour, while doing the pee pants dance, because I didn’t have time to use the bathroom if I wanted to eat my lunch before racing back to pick up children. For the first time in my adult life, I can go out to lunch if I please or run errands and I don’t have t o tell anyone I have left the building. There is no one telling me “no”. Actually, no one really cares what I do with my lunchtime, as long as I am back at the right time and getting my work completed.

It all seemed so foreign to me when I started this new job. I felt a little out of sorts. There were not 15 kids standing outside the door when I had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t have to stay in one room for an extended period of time. If I got bored with a task or just needed to take a quick break, I could get up and leave my desk, walk to the bathroom, get a drink and come back to work. It has been quite a change from what I have known for 11 years. I felt like I was breaking the rules and it felt so good to be a big rule-breaking rebel. Let me tell you, I quickly got over that when my boss and I hauled out of the office and headed to Starbucks for an offsite meeting. Being a “grown up” had it’s advantages. Had I known this sooner, I probably would have left teaching long before I actually did.

My life has changed and there are times when I really can’t believe it is my life. For instance, my stress level has decreased exponentially. I know when I leave work I am leaving the work there. I don’t take it home with me. I don’t have to worry about it. I don’t fret about the crazy parents or crazy students. Long gone are the days of lesson planning and trying to come up with the most dynamic lesson ever developed by a teacher. It was like reinventing the wheel every day of the week. That got a little tiring. That is a lie. It got a lot tiring. I never got away from my job when I was teaching. I was always a teacher. Now, I leave work and I am just me I don’t have to keep up my persona. I can finally take the time to figure out whom I am because for all these years, I was just a teacher and that was all I knew. Now, it’s time to figure out who I really am instead of being what everyone expected.

I feel a little guilty because I don’t miss my former career. I think I should be upset about not being back at school. Truthfully, I don’t miss it at all. Okay, I did miss buying new school supplies, but I will get over that because I can buy school supplies whenever I want. I didn’t miss getting a classroom ready or fretting about all the little details of the start of the school year. I do miss the kids, but not enough to be back in the classroom. I think leaving teaching was one of the best decisions I have made. I did enjoy teaching, don’t get me wrong, but it was time to step away from it and do something totally unrelated. Will I ever go back? At this point in time, I don’t see myself going back. I can’t say I’ll never go back, but right now, the answer is no. I’m happy to explore this new life and figure out what who it is I am and what this life has in store. Until next time, Diva Divine

Monday, August 11, 2008

People can't read and today was not my day... well, that's not entirely true

The day didn't start off so good. I went to the gym, I had a good run, but when I was standing in the shower thinking about what I could eat when I got to work, I realized I hadn't brought any food. I totally forgot to bring my food. I knew I was forgetting something when I left the house, but I couldn't figure out what it was. I debated whether I should go home and get my food before work, if I should go home at lunch or if I should just go out and get something at lunch. This caused another disaster. I was so distracted by the food thing, I burnt my forehead with my curling iron. It looks great. Nice big red burn mark on my forehead. Good thing my hair covers it up. Otherwise, I might have just gone home.

I got to work and I had to get the PowerPoint presentations for Mr. Meanie Pants President in the correct form, with the right fonts and try to make them look all pretty. I did some of the stuff I had to neglect on Friday and then I went about fixing the PowerPoints. My boss tells me, "Some of the slides are a little too wordy and need to be cut down." Okay, whatever, I worked about three hours on this over the weekend, I gave up getting my nails done so I could do this and now it's not good enough. I should have gone home. However, we were able to hold off having Mr. Meanie Pants President from coming in because my boss told him she wanted to go over the presentations before he got them.

I decided since my day had been so craptastic, I would schedule a pedicure for my lunch hour. I called the nail salon and they said they could schedule me. Woo hoo! Something was going to be good about today after all. I was not completely right. I get to the nail salon and I tell them I made an appointment. They were not busy at all. They had two people working and four customers including me. I figure since I a scheduled an appointment, they would get to me soon. No, that assumption would be incorrect. I sat there for 20 minutes before they started on me. Hello! Why did I even call for an appointment? It didn't cause them to work on me any faster. It's a good thing my boss never gets back to work on time at lunch because otherwise I would have been in hot water.

I worked like a mad women the rest of the afternoon, getting things out to people and answering emails. It made the day fly by so fast. I had nice toes again. I had energy. Even though I had to go to my second job I figured the day wasn't as bad as it could have been. I decided to see if I had any messages on my phone and there was one from the apartment complex I had applied to last week. I had been waiting and waiting to hear from them. Good news, I got the cool new apartment. I am going to be moving in October. I can't wait.

I went to my second job after my real full-time job. When I was there on Friday, they were installing a security system that requires visitors to buzz into the building all the time and then to use a code to leave the building. People are not very smart and they didn't understand the notes that are up on the wall or the loud buzzing sound and the inability they have to open the door. They just keep yanking on the door, thinking it is going to open if they keep yanking hard enough. Hello, dumb asses, there is a note there for a reason, read it and follow the directions. No, people can't read and it doesn't matter how you write the notes and if you put them right in front of their faces, they don't heed the words you write. It made me want to beat the people because they were too damn dumb to follow directions. They just want me to beat them. I swear.

So, that has been my day. Dealing with dumb people who can't read and Meanie Pants President, and slow nail people and everything else. I swear, people just want to irritate me. I have to remember not everyone is an idiot, I just encounter more of them on a daily basis than most people. Until next time, Diva Divine

Sunday, August 10, 2008

I'm just sitting here gnawing on a chicken leg

My protein loading seems to be helping my energy level. I haven't been as tired. I have to eat about every three hours to keep my body going, but that's not bad. If it keeps my energy level up and makes me feel better, then I'll keep doing it. I joke that I have to sit and gnaw on chicken legs to get my protein, but that's what it sort of feels like, I am always eating something or thinking about eating something. My day revolves around food and getting enough of it at the right time.

Friday I was sitting in my little cubicle when my phone rings. It was the next President of our organization asking me where his PowerPoint for his upcoming trip were at. I told him I was trying to get in touch with my boss to figure out what was happening and who was supposed to be writing the PowerPoints. Well, that was not the answer he wanted and he got nasty with me. Looking back, I should have told him "Writing your PowerPoint presentations is not my job! So why don't you go and yell at someone else!" But I couldn't think that fast on my feet and I think that would have only made him madder. Anyhow, I hate when people think I am supposed to do something and it's not my job to do and then I just look dumb when it doesn't get done. Mr. Meanie Pants President made the Diva cry. I think I should kick him in the shins tomorrow for making me cry.

So, long story short, I spent all day Friday working on his PowerPoint presentation and I didn't get any of my other stuff done. I had to drop everything so I could appease Mr. Meanie Pants President. I have also spent time this weekend working on these things for him. I hope he likes his PowerPoint presentations I did because if he doesn't I will tell him next time he can do them himself! It's hard to write a PowerPoint for someone else because it is not my material. I had to go by the notes I had, the information I had gained by watching the video taping, and the printed materials we distribute. So, something that would normally only taken me an hour took me about 8 hours because I had to think how Mr. Meanie Pants President would state the information. It has been a big clusterfuck.

Tomorrow, I am supposed to meet with my boss to go over what I have done. I figure as long as there is stuff there for Mr. Meanie Pants President to look over, then I am doing okay. I didn't have time to make it look all pretty with pictures, but I can do that later. I just wanted to get the content in there and worry about the "pretty" stuff later. I dare Mr. Meanie Pants President to say anything to me tomorrow because I will unleash the Diva on him. (Okay, probably not, but I can talk a big game.) Until next time, Diva Divine

Thursday, August 7, 2008

We still don't know what's wrong with you

I went back to the doctor yesterday to find out why I am tired all the time. I went to the lab last week and they drew my blood to check my thyroid, they also ran a CBC and a basic metabolic panel. I had been waiting since Friday to hear from the doctor, but with all the excitement of Friday, I sort of forgot about it until Monday. Then, they couldn't find my test results and when I called on Tuesday, they still couldn't find them, so then it was almost Wednesday so I just waited until I went in for my appointment.

Good news, I don't have thyroid disease. In fact, my thyroid is functioning better now then it was in December when I had my initial blood work done. There was nothing abnormal with my blood work at all. That was very surprising to me since I had felt so tired for so long. I figured there would have to be something in my blood work that would act like a neon sign saying "This is what's wrong with you!!" Well, that's not what happened. On paper, I look like the picture of health.

Thankfully, the doctor didn't just stop with the blood work, but she also did an analysis of my food diary. That's where she thinks she found the answer. I am protein deficient. I don't eat enough protein every day to keep my body going, so I get tired and feel like I want to crawl into bed. It seems that because I exercise as much as I do, you need more protein than the average Diva. Good to know.

So, I am a protein loading Diva. I think I ate about every two or three hours today. I feel a little better, but I think it will take some time before I see significant changes. I still took a nap this afternoon when I got home. I didn't sleep as long as I did last night. I have to work tomorrow night, so I won't get to take a nap, so I better get it in now. I am actually ready to go back to bed. I am still tired. I should get my stuff ready for tomorrow and get in bed. Until next time, Diva Divine