I did it because I am crazy...

I have been very tired since my 11 mile walk on Saturday. I didn't get home until almost 2 a.m. Sunday morning, so I was worn out. I had to drag my butt out of bed yesterday at 11:45, just because I felt so guilty about sleeping so late. I ended up falling asleep on the couch for at least an hour later in the afternoon. I couldn't keep my eyes open. I had to peel my butt off the couch and shower so I could make it to 6:00 Mass last night. I got home from Mass and fell asleep on the couch again! Then, of course, I couldn't get to sleep last night to save my soul. I hate when that happens, because it messes up my sleep schedule so much.

I made myself get up this morning at 6:30. Even though I had only gotten about 2 and a half hours of sleep. I watched some news, loaded the dishwasher, and messed around on the computer. I thought I would take a little nap and then get up and go to the gym. I did fall asleep for a little while, but my Mom called and I had to get up. I guess it was for the best because otherwise, I would have slept all day and been in the same boat I was in last night.

I have to sing at a carshow Saturday and I vaguely remembered there being a 5K run/walk early in the morning before the event. I asked my Mom if I was dreaming that up or if I actually did know what I was talking about. She said there was a run that morning and somehow, she talked me into entering. I swear, I only did it because I am crazy. (and she said she would pay my entry fee...hey, I'm poor and if she wants to pay the $10.00 fee so she can see me run, I'll let her.)

I decided I better go to the gym and get some training in this week. I really would like to run the entire course. I decided I would make myself run for 30 minutes straight. I did it, actually, I ran for 35 minutes, but when I run on the treadmill, I run slower than I do outside, but I will run the entire time. For some reason, when I get outside, even though I run faster, I feel like I can't run the whole time and I end up walking some. It makes me feel like a big dork because I can do it, but just because I don't have the treadmill keeping me at a constant pace, I doubt myself. I ran today for 35 minutes because I am crazy. I was a hot sweaty mess. I know all the people at the gym thought I was beautiful and they all want to be like me. Hahahaha! I am sure they would like to look exactly the opposite of me.

So, this week I will be training for the run this weekend. I am only doing this because I am crazy. Just remember that, I am crazy. Until next time, Diva Divine

11 Miles of Hope

I had the privilege of participating in Relay for Life yesterday. I say it is a privilege because I was able to walk in honor of the 44 people I had listed on the sign on my back. Many of those names, were sent to me by my friends, and others were people I have known personally. I have been asked by many people "why do you go back and walk in Relay?" Well, I haven't really been able to explain why I go back and walk, but after hearing the co-chair speak at the Luminaria ceremony, I don't think I could put it into words any better:

"You come today in HOPE. That is what Relay is all about. Hope. Hope that one day your children or your children's children never have to hear the words "You have cancer." It is the hope you feel when you walk on the track. It's the hope you feel when you see the cancer survivors in the opening ceremony. For the person just diagnosed with cancer, it is the hope they find when they meet a survivor who was diagnosed with the same cancer. That is hope. For the caregivers, it is talking with other caregivers who have been in the same situation. That is hope. There is hope in celebrating those survivors who come back year after year. There is even hope in recognizing those who have lost their battle with cancer, because there is hope that through events like Relay we will raise the money which will find a cure, so other people will never have to lose their battle. We walk with hope that one day, because of what we do today, we will have no need for Relay for Life because we have a cure for this disease. That is Hope."

It was amazing, to say the least. I am sure the speaker said a few more wonderful things, but right now, I can't remember all of them. I do know that I was filled with Hope and I am still filled with Hope. I have the hope that each year when I compile, my list of people to walk for, the survivor list is longer than those who have lost their battle. I find hope in the amount of money donated to the team I participated on. That team alone brought in over $16,000...yes, that is over sixteen thousand dollars. There is hope that those dollars put us a step closer to a cure.

I walked 11 miles yesterday. That is 44 laps around the track. That is one lap for each person on my list. That is not something I did on purpose, it just ended up working out that way. One lap to celebrate each person, one lap to remember those we've lost, one lap closer to a cure. At the end of the day, even though I was sunburned (even though I kept applying sunscreen) and I had a few little blisters, even though I was a smelly, sweaty mess, I had hope. Sometimes, hope is all we have to hang on to, and sometimes hope just has to be enough. Remember, there is HOPE! Until next time, Diva Divine

I won't have to start dancing....at least I don't think I will

Good news people!! I got a new job today. I had an interview last Friday with the large non-profit I had interviewed with before. This time, it was for a different position. I wasn't sure how the interview had gone because I am really bad at reading those situations. I did feel a little better because I didn't have to wear my suit. Since I had interviewed on Friday, and everyone in the office was dressed down, the person who interviewed me said there was no reason to be so dressed up. I took my own bottle of water into the interview as well. I did consider adding a little vodka, but I didn't think that would have been a good idea. I was the last person to be interviewed, which I think could have helped me. I made sure to send my thank you email as soon as I got home, too. I wanted to leave a good impression as they went in to make their decision. I knew they were deciding who to hire that day, so I wanted to keep my name fresh in their minds. I guess it must have worked because they called me today and offered me the position. Woo hoo, go Diva!

I start my new job July 10th. This means I won't have to start dancing at Leggs Dungeon Lounge or Babes. At least I don't think I will have to start dancing. I really hope I don't have to start dancing. I don't think anyone would want to see me dance and I doubt they would pay me either. I would be a failure as an exotic dancer. It's probably best that way because I doubt any non-profit would want me to work for them if I had been an exotic dancer. Yeah, I better stay away from the dance floor. Until next time, Diva Divine

Almost losing my pants....stanky, stanky, stanky

I went to the gym this morning to run. I have been working on "sprints" the past week or so, because it has helped me to improve my running times and my speed. So, this morning, I was on the treadmill for my warm up when I realize I wore the wrong underwear. Okay, I know that sounds crazy, but there are certain underwear I can't wear when I am running because they ride up. Part of the problem is that most of my underwear are too big and therefore, they don't fit properly. I am too cheap to replace all my underwear, so I've been doing that little by little, however, I have to wear some that don't fit perfectly. I try to wear the underwear that fit when I go out to do things. So, I usually end up wearing the ill-fitting underwear when I go to the gym or when I am just at home.

After I finished my five minute warm-up, I went back to stretch out. I was able to fix my underwear when I was stretching because no one was back in the stretching area. I thought I had fixed the problem. I thought wrong. I got back on the treadmill and started walking. I was okay for about the first minute, then I had to pull up my pants because, like my underwear, they are too big and I am too cheap to buy new ones. When I pulled up my pants, I messed up my underwear. It was just as bad as it had been during my warm-up.

Since I refuse to stop and fix my underwear and my pants, I switch the treadmill to my sprinting speed and try to not think about the big wedgie I have up my butt. I will be the first to tell you, it's not fun running with a big wedgie. What makes things worse, suddenly, my pants feel like they are slipping down my hips. But I don't stop running because I am too stubborn. I don't want people in the gym to think I can't handle running and that I need to stop and catch my breath. I kept running and hoping I didn't lose my pants.

I ran for three minutes and then switched back to my walking speed. I tried to fix my pants. I knew fixing my underwear was futile. There were people on the machines behind me, one being the operator of the gym. I tried to retie my pants when I was walking, but I didn't do such a good job because when I started running again, they started slipping down my hips once more. I was screwed. Unless I stopped and went to the bathroom, I was going to have to deal with my big wedgie and try to keep my pants from falling down.

I kept running and walking, pulling my pants up when they would start to fall down. It's a wonder I didn't trip and kill myself when I was trying to tie my pants and run at the same time. I am sure it was quite entertaining for all those who were watching. Glad I could be the mornings entertainment for everyone at the gym.

My pants didn't fall down after my 25 minutes of running and walking. I did still have a big wedgie, which is a pain in the butt, pardon the pun. I couldn't fix my underwear until I got out to the car. I had to be all nonchalant and act like I was just trying to adjust my pants. I don't think I was able to fool anyone. They knew I was picking my wedgie.

I had to stop at the grocery store on my way home because I had nothing to eat for breakfast. I hate going to the grocery store after I have been to the gym because I smell so bad and I am usually dripping with sweat. This morning was no different. I just had to run in and get some cereal and milk. I could smell the stench coming off my body and it was making me sick. If I could tell I smelled this bad, I knew everyone else would be able to smell me too. I was stanky, stanky, stanky.

I managed to get out of the store and home without knocking anyone over with my stanky body odor. I swear, when I took off my clothes to take a shower, the things could have walked away on their own. That's how smelly they were. They were FOUL!!

Tomorrow I will go back to the gym and hope I don't get some big wedgie or lose my pants when I am running. I don't want to put on a show for all the patrons at the gym. As for being stanky, I can't really help that. I get stanky when I run because I am a big sweaty mess. I think I have had my gym pants for so long the stank will not wash out of them, no matter what I use to clean them. I think it is time to get new pants and of course new underwear, but I am really not financially able to do that right now, so I will have to make things work for the time being. I will just have to have wedgies and stanky pants that almost fall down. Until next time, Diva Divine

You've got to be kidding me?

I get some strange spam emails, which I think is the case for all of us. I get the typical ones for Viagra and various other prescription meds online. You know what I'm talking about "500 Viagra for $19.95." "Herbal Male Enhancement Drugs... Cheap!" Yes, I love those. Of course I think I get nearly as many emails telling me I have won a $1000 gift card to Costco, JCPenney, Wal-Mart, Target....you name the store, I have gotten the email. Then, you get the email about Gevalia Coffee and their wonderful offers for a free coffee maker, coffee and stainless steel travel mug. Seriously, do they pay people to send out this spam? If they are paying people to do this, I want to sign up for that job because I could seriously do, and do it well.

I've been getting this new email from "My friends from the Video Shoot Last Weekend." What video shoot and which friends? Because I don't remember any video shoot and if I were there, I should at least be able to remember it. Did I have fun? Who comes up with this stuff?

I am still working on the whole figuring out what I want to be when I grow up. I am still really considering the gig as Minnie Mouse. I think that would be phat! I have an interview tomorrow for a part time receptionist job. I need to get something soon because I am going to be in the poor house soon. I also had an interview last Friday, but I don't know how it went, I am not good at reading those situations. I am still waiting to hear back from Starbucks....those corporate asshats won't call me back, even though I have applied twice. You have got to be kidding me, a person applies twice and you don't have the decency to call me back? I know I have a college degree. I know I almost have a Masters Degree, but I don't think I am too good to sell coffee. If I thought that, I wouldn't have applied. So, I think it is time to boycott Starbucks. If they can't call me back, then they don't get my money. Like my boycotting of Starbucks is really going to hurt the corporate coffee giant, but if it makes me feel better, that's all that matters.

I think I may be forced to start selling my body. Yep, I might have to change my name to Trixie Divine and start dancing at Leggs Dungeon Lounge or Babes. I don't know how that will go over. From teacher to exotic dancer. That sounds like a Lifetime Movie of the Week or at least the lead story in the National Enquirer or OK! Magazine. I could write my memoirs detailing my career change and how I was driven to dancing because Starbucks wouldn't hire me. Then, I could tell how I had to go to rehab to quit dancing and get over my addiction to diet pepsi and Cosmo and Glamour. It would be a very trying time, but I would prevail. Then, I would score a part in a weekly sitcom and get a record deal, or something like that. Yeah, I am off my rocker and yes, I need to get out of the house. I am going to find something to do. Until next time, Diva Divine

Cowboy Bob and the Freak Show I Call My Life...

I have a new neighbor. I was elated last week when my downstairs neighbor, Miss Meanie Pants, moved. She didn't like me. It seems that the guy who lived with her, I guess you would call him her "boo" or friend with benefits, liked me. The feeling was not mutual. He was nasty!! He didn't get the hint when I blew him off several times. Then, he started stalking me and I had to go to the leasing company and throw a big old hissy fit. He kind of backed off. Then, he disappeared. I thought I was done with him. Then, he reappeared and disappeared several times. Then, one day in March the police came looking for him and he never reappeared. All they did was fight and I could hear it all. She also had a yappy dog she left in the bathroom when she was gone. I would have to hear it whine all the time and that got old. Anyhow, Miss Meanie Pants moved out, the apartment next to her's was empty and the only people left in the building were me and Pothead Pete next door. I don't really like Pothead Pete, but at least he is quiet. I just try not to inhale when I leave the building. I like to avoid that contact high if at all possible.

So, back to the new neighbor. Someone moved in to the apartment next to Miss Meanie Pants. I refer to him as Cowboy Bob. I don't think he is a cowboy, but he leaves boots outside his door covered with mud or stuff....I don't want to get too close...you know how I am about smells. Cowboy Bob drives a big old extended cab diesel pick-up truck with a tool chest on the back from Tractor Supply Company. I think calling him Cowboy Bob is justifiable. I don't care about Bob leaving his boots in the common hallway, even though such stuff is strictly verboten in our lease and "Good Neighbor Policy". As long as Bob doesn't narc me out for putting my trash out in the hallway at night because it is too late to walk to the dumpster, I can overlook his boots.

For the most part, Bob has been a good neighbor for the week or so he has been here. I haven't felt the need to go to the leasing company and demand they tell him to be quiet, have them kick out some loitering stalker, or rat him out for smoking so much pot that when I walked out of my apartment, I felt a sudden craving for Cheetos and Mountain Dew from the contact high. I thought Bob might work out alright here in the building. Then, last night, Bob ruined it all!

I was sitting here in my apartment watching yet another episode of Forensic Files. I could hear people talking, but I thought it might be Pothead Pete's television. Sometimes when he is hitting the wacky weed a little too hard, he turns up the volume on his big screen television with the surround sound a little too loud. After trying to ignore it, I finally got up and realized it was coming from outside. Oh great, it's the crazy people in the next building who let their children and animals run wild at all hours of the day. I turned up the volume and tried to block them out.

Finally, when they didn't stop once it had gotten dark, I got up and looked out the sliding glass door. It wasn't the crazy people from the next building, it was Cowboy Bob and his posse of cowpoke friends sitting on his patio. Ok, it is obvious Bob neglected to read the "Good Neighbor Policy" because it strictly states "You cannot sit out on your patio or balcony at all hours of the night, whooping it up with your cowpoke friends, making it impossible for the other people living around you to enjoy a good episode of Forensic Files or Dr. G. Medical Examiner."

Bob and his cowpoke buddies, sat out there until well after midnight, making noise. This didn't go over well with me. I couldn't watch television without hearing them and when I couldn't sleep, I came out to the couch, but I could still hear them!!! It was annoying and inconsiderate to say the least. I didn't want to go down there and go all Diva on Bob and the Cowpokes. I was not looking too hot and I figured this was Bob's "house-warming" patio party. They didn't need to see me looking like a hot mess. I decided to let Bob slide this time. He should consider himself touched by an angel. However, now the gloves are off. If Bob gets loud again, gauntlets will be thrown (or perhaps trash, ice, bread...whatever is available) and you better believe the Diva will prevail. No one messes with Diva Divine or comes between her and a good episode of a true crime show and escapes her wrath without a letter from the leasing company or some form of retaliation.

Hark, what is that I hear out in the hallway?? Oh, it sounds like Bob and the Cowpokes toting a cooler, which I am sure is holding/once held beer. So help me if Bob starts his partying at 12:57 a.m., I will go bat shit crazy on his boot wearing ass. I promise you, I will scratch his eyes out. I bet Bob and his Cowpoke pals went to the Rascal Flatts concert tonight....oh, yee haw! I don't think Bob is going to work out here in the building. Bob will have to move. This is yet another chapter in the freak show I call my life. Until next time, Diva Divine

Emails from Sarah....

My friend Sarah works as a nurse, so she keeps some odd hours. She sends me emails when things get slow on the floor. This is just an example of our email correspondence...

Email from Sarah after reading the blog:
Date:Thu, 12 Jun 2008 3:31 am

Hey Diva,

If you decided to work at Disney World you will probably have a frequent house guest. ME ME ME!! I am sorry the job hunt isn't going so well. You could come and work at the "Shit Pit" but why would you want to do that? Alright got to go. Talk to you soon.

Sarah

My Email blast to about a million people in my address book:

Subject: I have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up.....
Date: Thu, 12 Jun 2008 21:37:44 -0400

I think I have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up. I want to work at Disney World as Minnie Mouse. I mean Disney is the happiest place on earth and I think it might be fun to dress up like Minnie and make little kids happy. I might take the gig as Daisy Duck, but I bet Minnie makes more money than Daisy. I have it all figured out, I will work as Minnie and have my own "Paint Your Own Pottery with Minnie" at Disney. It will be a blast.....I could paint lots of pieces with polka dots and use lots of red, white and black. I could paint pieces like the one below....sorry, no red, white and black polka dots in this one, I painted it before I had my epiphany about being Minnie. Enjoy! Diva, soon to be known as Minnie

P.S.-Sarah R...do not tell MaryJane about this piece....It's her wedding gift...a month late....but a wedding gift.

Response from Sarah:
Sent: Thu, 12 Jun 2008 10:38 pm
Subject: RE: I have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up.....

My lips are sealed but only if you promise I can visit you lots if you get a gig a Disney.

Reply to Sarah:
Date: Thu, 12 Jun 2008 22:42:13 -0400
From: Diva Divine

I would let you bunk with me at the castle if I ever get to be Minnie. I would even arrange for Mickey to come and visit you:)

Sarah's response:
Date:Thu, 12 Jun 2008 11:28 pm

Maybe I would bring my own Mickey, then you wouldn't have to share.

My reply to Sarah:
Date: Thu, 12 Jun 2008 23:31:24 -0400

Hahaha. I think there is more than one Mickey at Disney so we would not have to share.

Sent from my iPhone

Sarah's response:
Date:Fri, 13 Jun 2008 12:07 am
Can I have Captain Jack Sparrow instead?

My reply to Sarah:
Date:Fri, 13 Jun 2008 8:11 am
Sure, whatever your wish is, I will grant it.....Minnie

After reading these emails, I realize both of us have too much time on our hands. I don't know if I will ever make my goal of working at Disney as Minnie Mouse. I think I would like to work on the Disney Cruise Line. That would be even better than working at Disney World. You could see the world, travel to sunny places, meet lots of people. That would be the life. Perhaps I should check into that right now? I will keep you updated. Until next time, Diva Divine