tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-389034912024-03-18T19:53:15.140-07:00Divacowgirl - New and ImprovedSeven years ago I moved to the big city from a town with no stop lights. Now I spend my time trying to find a way back.
So, here's the deal. This here is my blog. That means if you know me in "real" life you might read things here you may not want to know about. I talk about everything, love, work, sex, friends, money, school, you name it. Read at your own risk.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.comBlogger112125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-38548080198064361832011-05-13T21:50:00.001-07:002011-05-13T21:50:58.143-07:00New HomeSo...I'm <a href="http://divacowgirl.net/">here</a> now. So please update.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-41622416146822600172011-03-25T09:09:00.001-07:002011-03-25T09:15:49.200-07:00Proud MommaThis is a video that Beav is working on for the GSA club at school. It's not finished, but I'm very proud.<br /><OBJECT id=BLOG_video-3108f5eba0b48a67 class=BLOG_video_class width=320 height=266 contentId="3108f5eba0b48a67"></OBJECT>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-84560346870022117262010-05-19T21:53:00.000-07:002010-05-19T21:53:05.809-07:00Fight Night I - Tamara vs Denise.wmv<object style="background-image:url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/LtRiDoTgwKo/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LtRiDoTgwKo&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LtRiDoTgwKo&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-44040396878389941082010-05-11T18:05:00.000-07:002010-05-11T18:27:59.886-07:00Just a little VentI was going to write about women faking orgasms..but something happened today that pretty much pissed me off and I need to get it off my chest. <br /><br />Hubby, up until today, was a columnist on a local online news website. This news source and I use the term "news" loosely decided that since the budget was such a hot topic and everyone is grumbling about where the money is going, yada, yada, yada, that they would create a program in which you could plug in a city employee's name and find out what they earned last year.<br /><br />What the fuck? (excuse the french)<br /><br />So you put in the city employee's name and it comes up something like this:<br /><br />Divacowgirl's husband<br /><br />Salary Overtime Total<br />xx,xxx xx,xxx xxx,xxx<br /><br />I'm sure many would say, well what's wrong with that? It should be public knowledge. And perhaps it should. It is, actually information available to the public, should they request it. However, it's inaccurate. Let me explain why. <br /><br />I'll use the hubby as an example He works with a specific department. He supervises officers that are part of a special detail. (You'll have to excuse my vagueness but it is a matter of privacy and safety) Half of his salary isn't paid by the city. It's paid by a completely different entity. It is also part of anti-terrorism and is supported by grants. Now...overtime. Hubby normally works overtime for one of two reasons. Lots of filming is done here in Long Beach. They use PD as a form of security during filming. He also works a DUI checkpoint once a month. The company doing the filming...they pay the costs of the officers working. The DUI checkpoint is covered by a federal grant. One checkpoint a month for a year, that is what each grant covers. <br /><br />This featured "story" doesn't include any of this information. Nor does it include the amount of money the hubby pays in union dues, equipment, healthcare to cover his family, etc. <br /><br />My husband took the editors to task on the story and they admit it's meant to encourage discussion. I'm not sure how giving readers a small part of something is supposed to be helpful in any way, shape, or form. <br /><br />And not that he needs defending but my hubby works hard. And he works twenty-four seven. His phone rings at all times, and he answers and if he's not at the office he takes care of what needs to be done and doesn't even turn in those hours.<br /><br />I just don't understand why my kid's teachers, my employees, my neighbor.....needs to know what my husband earns. <br /><br />Will people look at me differently once they see my husband makes six figures? Because I'm still the woman that drives a 1995 Jeep Wrangler, doesn't have a television in her bedroom, is paying off a gazillion in student loans, and rents a house. <br /><br />Not only that but does anyone consider that some people take this information a litle too personally? Isn't law enforcement's job difficult enough without throwing this into the mix. Comments on this website have already included personal attacks naming specific officers. <br /><br />How is that helpful? <br /><br />There are those who might say that perhaps then husband shouldn't be in this job if this issue is a concern. In fact, that's what one of his former editors told him. That's akin to saying that celebrities have no right to privacy because that's the life they chose. <br /><br />I call bullshit.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-29773372143707756102010-04-28T19:59:00.000-07:002010-04-28T20:18:07.713-07:00I'm gonna take this itty bitty world by storm and I'm just gettin warmMy placeholder topics...time to get to them.<br /><br />Monday night I had a board meeting and only half showed up. Of the missing half, I probably heard from less than half of them and I was slightly irritated. So when I got home I fired off an email to the entire board on email etiquette. Seriously, respond to my emails. I don't care even if it's to tell me fuck off, at least then I know you got it. I'm sick and tired of hearing about how busy you are. We are all busy. However, when you make a commitment to something, follow it through. I was tired, I had more important things to do then lead a board meeting where half the people don't bother to show up or let me know they can't make it.<br /><br />I feel better now.<br /><br />Einstein is graduating in a month and a half. I have this irrational fear he's going to leave home and never come back. This is my baby people. I don't know what I'm going to do without him here. I get sad thinking about it. On one hand, I'm so proud of the man he's becoming. On the other hand he's still that four year old boy with his face painted.<br /><br />Winning a fight is amazing. Winning a fight against your very best friend really sucks. There is no planet where doing that again would be acceptable. It's even hard to celebrate because my victory means defeat to someone I really care about.<br /><br />I briefly debated about attending a three day conference Saturday - Monday. On one hand, excellent trainings, lots of opportunities to earn extra units, BUT, this is my first weekend off since my fight and I know that three days of meetings will exhaust me and I am just now recovering from the fight. So, I think it's important to know when to say no, and I'm saying no.<br /><br />Title from LL Cool J's "Mama Said Knock You Out"divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-22703479908155130532010-04-28T07:17:00.001-07:002010-04-28T07:18:05.963-07:00Wordless Wednesday, Farmer's Market<img style="WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px; VISIBILITY: hidden" border="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI3MjQ2NDIwNzkyNCZwdD*xMjcyNDY*MjIyNTAyJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz*yZGRhNGQ4MTI3ZGE*/ZTJmYTU*YTM4MTI*MTliZWU4NyZvZj*w.gif" width="0" height="0" /> <div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right; WIDTH: 480px"><embed height="360" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="480" src="http://static.pbsrc.com/flash/rss_slideshow.swf" flashvars="rssFeed=http%3A%2F%2Ffeed939.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fad238%2Fdivacowgirl%2FWordlessWednesday1%2Ffeed.rss" wmode="transparent"></embed> <a href="http://photobucket.com/redirect/album?showShareLB=1" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" src="http://pic.pbsrc.com/share/icons/embed/btn_geturs.gif" /></a><a href="http://s939.photobucket.com/albums/ad238/divacowgirl/WordlessWednesday1/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" src="http://pic.pbsrc.com/share/icons/embed/btn_viewall.gif" /></a></div>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-75717867755245465342010-04-26T22:18:00.000-07:002010-04-26T22:20:29.706-07:00PlaceholderThis is just a placeholder because it is past my bedtime and I don't have time to really post. <br /><br />But - I seriously need to talk about how I sent a stern email to my board tonight. Let's see who I piss off.<br /><br />How the closer Einstein gets to graduating the more panicked I get.<br /><br />How I am seriously really never fighting again, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">cuz</span> that was just crazy.<br /><br />And please, someone help me decide about this conference this weekend.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-23903325310113029242010-04-25T18:14:00.000-07:002010-04-25T18:29:51.340-07:00I did it!Posted fight night pics <a href="http://divacowgirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html">here</a>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I'm not sure I ever want to do that again. First off, fighting your very best friend is the hardest thing I've ever done.<br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464248845254290034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeLospxpNnTxo5THtdk8redFz21oM5Rn1e8LQfOcCNm427OOEH6RCLmbRh5Kilwczw3siuzo2uVXHnmQ0GJ-07i_hFFafdEagPyNsB0waaB09yecKF8i7_BPZESCZivDzFvsf/s320/DSCN0243.JPG" />Those of you reading my blog know I've trained two years for this. I was going to fight in the fall of 08, but my mom passed. Then I was going to fight this time last year and I cracked my rib. </p><p>Yesterday I spent the day in panic. It wasn't winning or losing that bothered me. It wasn't forgetting all my training. It was worry about my endurance. And it was a well founded worry because about a minute into it my heart was beating so hard it was hurting. All I could think about was the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-fight talk we had in which someone mentioned nobody had ever left the ring on a gurney and I could be the first.</p><p>But I did last all three rounds. And I won. But it was hard. I almost broke into tears at the end of the fight. Everything I've been through in the last year and a half. It was as if it culminated in this fight. There was so much stuff going on in my head. It's all still there and I'm fairly sure that as soon as I have a moment alone I'm going to fall apart.</p><p>I'm so thankful that my brothers surprised me by being here. And so many of my friends were there to cheer me on. I have to tell you that the crowd makes a big difference. Hearing them react, cheer, etc. it's really <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">motivating</span>.</p><p>But I really couldn't have done this without my best friend and my fighting opponent. We've been through so much together and for both of us this has been a very tough road. We started kickboxing together and have been there for each other every step of the way.</p><p>I'm proud of myself. I think I surprised a lot of people. I surprised myself. </p><p>Videos are posted here: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4k6dHrn-Qg">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4k6dHrn-Qg</a></p><p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCXTAbs443Q">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCXTAbs443Q</a></p><p> </p><p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v93St4qWt2k">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v93St4qWt2k</a></p><p> </p>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-59123618013756821292010-04-25T18:10:00.001-07:002010-04-25T18:12:47.885-07:00Fight Night Pics<img style="WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px; VISIBILITY: hidden" border="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI3MjI*NDIxNTEwNCZwdD*xMjcyMjQ*MjMzOTgyJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz*yZGRhNGQ4MTI3ZGE*/ZTJmYTU*YTM4MTI*MTliZWU4NyZvZj*w.gif" width="0" height="0" /> <div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right; WIDTH: 480px"><embed height="360" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="480" src="http://static.pbsrc.com/flash/rss_slideshow.swf" flashvars="rssFeed=http%3A%2F%2Ffeed939.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fad238%2Fdivacowgirl%2FFight%2520Night%2Ffeed.rss" wmode="transparent"></embed> <a href="http://photobucket.com/redirect/album?showShareLB=1" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" src="http://pic.pbsrc.com/share/icons/embed/btn_geturs.gif" /></a><a href="http://s939.photobucket.com/albums/ad238/divacowgirl/Fight%20Night/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" src="http://pic.pbsrc.com/share/icons/embed/btn_viewall.gif" /></a></div>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-70669921260647920732010-04-22T13:10:00.000-07:002010-04-22T13:11:02.987-07:00I have a few days until my fight. You would think that those around me would understand the last thing I need is more stress. However, that doesn't seem to be the case. <p>It's been a rough morning and lack of rest isn't helping. A good cry a little while ago didn't seem to help either. <p>And I've been painfully reminded that looking to someone else for support, understanding, etc is a total waste of my time. The only person I can truly trust is myself. Coming out of my shell, while a bit liberating, appears to be a bad decision. <br>Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerrydivacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-18917509133187346642010-04-20T20:34:00.000-07:002010-04-20T20:55:58.275-07:00You can bend but never break me, 'Cause it only serves to make me, More determined to reach my final goalOnly a few days until my fight, panic is definitely settling in. Just a little though. At this point I just want it over. The level of training is exhausting. I'm exhausted. And old. <br /><br />Everybody talks about it doesn't matter who wins or loses, nobody remembers later who won, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">yada</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">yada</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">yada</span>, and I know they're right. I've watched three fights at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">dojo</span> and I can't tell you who won or lost. <br /><br />I'm just tired. And I want my life back. One that doesn't involve being at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">dojo</span> when I'm not at work. Don't get me wrong I love my muscle tone, but the constant training, always being sore, the u shaped bruise on my ass, it's just too much. <br /><br />Plus I feel so behind at work. I've been plugging away all day yesterday and today trying hard to catch up. I'm behind in every other area. Poor <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Beav</span> has had to remind me for the past three days to pick up his prescription and I have yet to remember to do it. <br /><br />I was hoping to get in a trip home the second weekend of May but then I realized that it's Mother's day and it's probably not recommended that Mother's spend a weekend away from their children, or maybe it is, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">lol</span> However, I would have a hard time explaining to my siblings why I don't have my children with me. <br /><br />I do need to get home soon. I've been very homesick. But I'm not sure when I'll have the time. I've planned a weekend away with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Beav</span> and Einstein the weekend before Memorial Day (which will mainly involve sun, swimsuits, and water) and then in June I am making another trek to Flagstaff with Einstein and then we leave on our annual week long camping trip. <br /><br />My summer seems to be getting off to a fun and busy start. I feel a bit energized now that I've been thinking about the fun stuff coming up. <br /><br />Title taken from Helen <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Reddy's</span> "I am Woman"divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-78843657447199862452010-04-18T06:56:00.000-07:002010-04-18T07:02:32.944-07:00Fuck CancerEvery morning when I wake up one of the first things I do on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">crackberry</span> is check email, and then my twitter and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> feeds. This morning I woke to find <a href="http://www.califmom.com/califmom/">Leah's</a> tweet that Bob had lost his battle with cancer. My heart aches for this family and I'm praying that God gives them strength and just wraps them in his arms of love.<br /><br />I feel helpless against this horrible disease and what it does to those we love. So many of us give our time with fundraisers, walks, runs, etc. Continuing to do these things is so important and once again I have a renewed spirit to do everything little bit I can. <br /><br />In the meantime I pray. And I say fuck you cancer.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHTmdrIdsUgupuONkXMAs6eb-CkrIY4fLNhBjBHdrP8_4rDw1NKEZhMiC-6Y7k2i08VJE7wTWSFKqYMbCZcc-pqxubAsBt1vkFnLRM1GZlwQORgfJ3bDdROFrX9hvKMMFpWaY/s1600/IMG00066-20100226-1727.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461476278465846946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHTmdrIdsUgupuONkXMAs6eb-CkrIY4fLNhBjBHdrP8_4rDw1NKEZhMiC-6Y7k2i08VJE7wTWSFKqYMbCZcc-pqxubAsBt1vkFnLRM1GZlwQORgfJ3bDdROFrX9hvKMMFpWaY/s320/IMG00066-20100226-1727.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-32177958378804157372010-04-17T21:03:00.000-07:002010-04-17T21:23:00.744-07:00How I wish I could choose between Heaven and Hell. How I Wish I Could Save My Soul. I'm So Cold From FearToday was a day of disappointment. But then, the whole week was that way.<br /><br />Sparring this morning, one word, UGH. I just feel completely incompetent. I feel like everyone is so much better than I am. Tomorrow is my last day of sparring before the fight and panic exists below the surface, every minute. Not to mention, total rookie move, sparring, moving backwards and I slammed into the mirrored wall. Currently I feel like I was hit by a truck. Someone, remind me why I'm doing this again?<br /><br />Then the mail arrived. Einstein found out he didn't get his ROTC scholarship. Beaver received a collection notice from the library for four library books that he didn't turn in and were due in February. Again, panic at the college situation. Where am I going to find an extra $15,000 a year? Drove <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Beav</span> to the library, he turned in his books and I paid the $42 fine which is added to the $64 debt he already owes me because of lunch loans.<br /><br />I got in the car to head off to run some errands and you know I just wanted to sit in there and cry. But I didn't. Sometimes I wish I could just let go that way and let it all out and do that with someone close to comfort me. But that's not my style. I'm unable to do that. It's just a form of vulnerability that I'm unwilling to let anyone see. <br /><br />In some way I feel I'm being punished for being a bad person. As if God is throwing all this crap at me because I'm not a good person. So then I drive around and run my errands and think about everything in my life and what God might be disapproving of and that just makes me feel worse. <br /><br />And I recognize that I'm tired. I'm stretched a little too thin and that makes me more emotional than normal. I'm trying to find a balance between not second guessing my feelings and not over-reacting. That's easier said than done.<br /><br />Title taken from James Blunt's "Tears and Rain"divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-72002240902115899932010-04-16T21:22:00.000-07:002010-04-16T21:24:06.903-07:00Just ThinkingRight now it would be easy to say, I'm a confused <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">chica</span>. <br />But I'm too tired to think about it. <br />Keeping my life nice and orderly is a lot of hard work. I'm feeling a bit like the mouse in the wheel. That's not a nice feeling. <br />Just some stuff to think about.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-55562225297330834172010-04-14T21:34:00.000-07:002010-04-14T22:06:27.044-07:00Just Part of My StoryYesterday morning, hubby called me on an issue he needed assistance with for a friend. It was dealing with a possible sexual assault of a teenager. He wasn't asking because I'm a woman. He was asking because of my knowledge due to professional and personal training.<br /><br />I have received certifications in domestic violence and sexual assault crisis counseling. I have worked with the Placer County Domestic/Sexual Assault Response Team and have worked here in LB for the Sexual Assault Response Team. <br /><br />Someone asked me the other day if it was hard to do this type of volunteer work. The domestic violence part was harder than the sexual assault. But then with domestic violence you tend to deal with the same people over and over again. <br /><br />I've been doing volunteer work since I was 21. I started on the California Runaway <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hotline</span> and proceeded from there to other responsibilities. Part of being on the response teams means when you're on call and there's an assault reported you have to go to the hospital. My role was as an advocate and I worked on a team with a nurse that had received forensic training and a police officer. When I was trained in Placer County it was the first team put together so a lot of the training involved the advocates, law enforcement, and nurses all together and that was very interesting. <br /><br />I'm what one would call a survivor of both domestic violence and sexual assault. When I was seventeen I was engaged to a very handsome boy who was unfortunately also very violent. I'm not going to go into a lot of details. Mostly because I've blacked a large portion of it out. As far as statistics go I'm in the minority. Most women that end up in the situation I was in grew up with violence. I did not. However, I was fearful of this man (he was two years older than I). I was fearful for my life and I really didn't think anyone would believe me. In all these things I am very much a statistic. I came very close to losing my life and I believe without a doubt that I would have eventually ended up the worse kind of statistic.<br /><br />There's a lot to this story that I'm not going into. Partly because I'm not ready, partly because this isn't the right forum. <br /><br />I don't feel like a victim. Do I live with repercussions? Definitely. I will for the rest of my life. The difference is I'm aware of how this has impacted me and I deal with it appropriately (well sometimes). I haven't had a panic attack in years, which is pretty awesome. I dealt with an eating disorder because of it (years ago) but I still have trust issues. I have anger issues. I have a bad temper. I know that if I had to I could defend myself to the bloody end. Because I have had to.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-20678768343134053002010-04-11T07:09:00.000-07:002010-04-11T07:29:38.128-07:00Would you mind if I pretended I was someone else with courage in love and warIf you've been following my tweets, and really, why wouldn't you, I've been in San Diego for the past few days attending a conference for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Healthcare</span> Leaders. Apparently I'm one of those, who would have thunk? It's been a great conference and San Diego is beautiful although I really didn't get to see much of it. I'm thinking I need to come down here with hubby and the kids before Einstein heads off to college and I don't see him again. <br /><br />I've learned a lot this weekend and made a lot of great connections with other managers and administrators. I got to see my mentor and we haven't seen each other in about three years, so that was awesome. Apparently she really talked me up to a lot of people that I've gotten to know and it's nice to hear someone thinks highly of you.<br /><br />Lately my blog has been all over the place. Lots of weird things going on and I'm finding myself going through a lot of transitions. The thoughts, feelings, ideas, emotions whirl around inside my head to the point that I'm exhausted. I'm trying desperately to sort them all out but it's difficult. <br /><br />Not helping at all is my habit of completely doubting my feelings all the time. Over the years it's become quite obvious to me that my I have no ability to judge character. I couldn't tell if a person would be good for me or bad for me if my life depended on it. And then when I do get close to someone a question it a gazillion times. It's quite ridiculous. I wish I could be the kind of person who just feels without questioning. Is that possible? <br /><br />It doesn't appear likely. <br /><br />What is obvious though is that there are many things I have to get out of my head and I can't do it here. This is too public and somethings are more private and require limited access. So, I have developed another blog that is by invite only. If you're interested you may email me at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">divacowgirl</span> at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">gmail</span>.com.<br /><br />I must get ready for another half day of meetings. I hope everyone has a beautiful Sunday.<br /><br />Title taken from "Weak In The Knees" by Serena Ryderdivacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-3719959932749111392010-04-08T07:59:00.000-07:002010-04-08T08:03:32.542-07:00Say something sweet cause all we have is a night we can't keep and can't get back<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhqJt1uVI6FiTbZX0NGdo7soqoMlY-LsgAK10_qKC8iMtT07ugoGWkpWJ_PEvmU3Qi0_chUP60rH9lzQ9EkajHBZzdr7LKByX67zP12FrlCwlUdEQjBou49PND5SkF0aulyhD/s1600/DUI.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457782043101326370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhqJt1uVI6FiTbZX0NGdo7soqoMlY-LsgAK10_qKC8iMtT07ugoGWkpWJ_PEvmU3Qi0_chUP60rH9lzQ9EkajHBZzdr7LKByX67zP12FrlCwlUdEQjBou49PND5SkF0aulyhD/s320/DUI.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYf7bAdT36cPNgo1VVPUwuv4rb4hC-mb8f7oi-CGPWCs_3_W63EzCNtJQhDgHck0O6O_eC_lyAo2BFOFCorCu5iC3I4-LC2Q2BXDucAGbLlqFUL37XIolGXvog6lN5vtlmUEeo/s1600/502.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457781741477810674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYf7bAdT36cPNgo1VVPUwuv4rb4hC-mb8f7oi-CGPWCs_3_W63EzCNtJQhDgHck0O6O_eC_lyAo2BFOFCorCu5iC3I4-LC2Q2BXDucAGbLlqFUL37XIolGXvog6lN5vtlmUEeo/s320/502.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>My brother-in-law is going to have to come to Long Beach so we can enjoy these and have a heart attack together.</div><br /><br /><div></div>Title taken from "Safe but Sorry" by Making April<br /><br /><div></div></div>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-37773136216339466892010-03-31T19:34:00.000-07:002010-03-31T19:37:11.226-07:00Wordless Wednesday, does it count if there are captions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4H0sl80Zb22zFd3ZE1EXhcOE6TKmAz3iZwWaXiifzL7oGIht9PYUqz7tKUiin1xohcdyJifIsj0F22dcjOK6toW5kMx59gW3rb6HoHyxFvWPbflPWoi43nC1epCtPdEa0nX8/s1600/workoutfeet.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454992150977018498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4H0sl80Zb22zFd3ZE1EXhcOE6TKmAz3iZwWaXiifzL7oGIht9PYUqz7tKUiin1xohcdyJifIsj0F22dcjOK6toW5kMx59gW3rb6HoHyxFvWPbflPWoi43nC1epCtPdEa0nX8/s320/workoutfeet.jpg" /></a> This is what your feet look like after constantly training for a fight. Be grateful I didn't take pictures of the bottoms.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHZKHKFzNXIUr4OutbjXAosRHVcZX75Z9k8fu9saQPkO4tlBtTnu8vJvz2vBGZkBRuN8hy6vSECjtg_mVFJECdPIWybQYZWRDLbQItbEof5RGD984PJzgSDlJ8-0NoIN8fPmY/s1600/flower.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454992020626952450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHZKHKFzNXIUr4OutbjXAosRHVcZX75Z9k8fu9saQPkO4tlBtTnu8vJvz2vBGZkBRuN8hy6vSECjtg_mVFJECdPIWybQYZWRDLbQItbEof5RGD984PJzgSDlJ8-0NoIN8fPmY/s320/flower.jpg" /></a><br />My favorite flower. I buy these every Sunday at the Farmer's Market.<br /><div></div></div>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-75801486550128008842010-03-28T19:11:00.000-07:002010-03-28T19:52:03.226-07:00The "L" wordI've never been very good at the "L" word. No, not lust. That word I have absolutely no issues with. Mmmmmm.....lust. That way you feel when someone touches you the right way.....when someone makes you growl in the back of your throat......<br /><br />Sorry, I got distracted. Back to the "L" word.<br /><br />Perhaps it's because the first "romantic" (and I use that word very loosely) relationship I had in which a man told me he loved me also involved violence and assault and that's bound to warp a 17-year-old girl.<br /><br />But this post isn't about that relationship, that could be an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">entire</span> blog post in itself and that's for another day.<br /><br />Lately I've seen a few of my twitter/blogging friends go through pain/trauma/heartbreak because of the "L" word. Is there any other word that can bring you such total euphoria and such devastating heartbreak in the space of hours? <br /><br />It's funny because when you first start experiencing the L word it's all butterflies and goosebumps. Then it ends. And you try again. But the next time after the butterflies slow down you realize.....wait a minute, this is going to end at some point and it's going to hurt. And then you get to the point where you think.....if I avoid the "L" word I can avoid the pain.<br /><br />I'm not one of those people. Am I closed off? Yes. Do I have a difficult time sharing my feelings? Yes. But I'm not afraid to love. Sometimes I just think I don't really know how.<br /><br />Those people that fall in love after a weekend together. Those individuals that are convinced they've met a soul mate...I envy them. Even though in many cases it end(s) in heartache, sadness, drama, etc. How lucky are they that they have the ability to feel those kinds of feelings (the good ones, not the bad ones, I mean they're lucky to feel everything but I'm not jealous of the bad ones). <br /><br />I even start to feel the urge to use the "L" word and I immediately stop myself. Because that's when the questions start. How on earth can I feel this way? Maybe it's just euphoria at the someting new? Do I really know what the "L" word means? How dare I even think I could say this word. These are the things that pop in my head. <br /><br />Because I simply don't trust my feelings.<br /><br />So, those of you that just run with it...stop beating yourselves up about it. It's such a gift that you have the ability to feel that way, whether it's everlasting or not. <br /><br />As for me. I know I have the capacity to feel love. I've loved more than one person at a time and it was very difficult for me to accept that, but eventually I learned that I had that capability. I think my issue lies within my ability to express those feelings. They're there, they just have a difficult time making their way out of my heart and into verbal form.<br /><br />I guess I have to work on that. <br /><br />Besides.....nothing ventured, nothing gained.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-1426613207301252522010-03-26T19:32:00.000-07:002010-03-26T20:03:47.459-07:00See...I can growI think I'm going to have to drop my writing class which really sucks because a)I love writing (even though I suck) and b)I love arguing. But, each assignment and there are two a week takes three hours plus there is a paper due every Saturday. And I realized today that I don't want to spend my Friday night and Saturday writing a paper when I could be hanging with my family and doing the important Sam's Club shopping.<br /><br />Plus I'm trying to relax more or at least give myself more attention, and it's the kind of attention that doesn't involve fighting or school books.<br /><br /><br />I recently read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and it really hit me in some areas because I could relate, a lot, with what she was feeling. It also made me think a lot about myself, relationships, my views on love, etc.<br /><br />I have always prided myself on being a bit of a realist about relationships. There have been several times I've been told I think like a guy. I've always been really good at keeping my emotions separate, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.<br /><br />One thing I've always talked about is how I don't believe in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">soul mates</span>. I don't believe that there is that one true person for everyone. I mean, how can that be? I've loved some amazing men and all of them have brought something to my life. All of them have been a gift in one way or another. I might not have realized that at the time, but it's true. However, in the book she brings up a point, or I should say someone else brings up a point to her. <br /><br />"People think a soul mate is your perfect ft, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">another</span> layer of yourself to you, and then they leave." <br /><br />I like that definition. Especially because there have been relationships that even though I knew it had to end it was the hardest thing to walk way from. <br /><br />So, maybe I do believe in soul mates.<br /><br />And I think my life is about to change.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-49256117212695111842010-03-24T21:39:00.000-07:002010-03-24T21:44:15.064-07:00Good thing I look good in purpleSo.....I'm fighting. <br /><br />On April 24th.<br /><br />I'm scared.<br /><br />I hate to lose.<br /><br />But I'm afraid I will, cuz somebody has to.<br /><br />I've been training hard and I'm literally covered in bruises.<br /><br />Why do I do this again?divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-88711875546094071562010-03-10T20:54:00.000-08:002010-03-10T20:56:05.524-08:00New Math<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyEBr4LIv0qAqZibjKG1lIZwVdBkUFvzYgRs627CSEL1OGYTW8GyDu_U47DCy6_DULaHkXjx55Pp_twr1i9d1enUFjRbC39idcaF2-oIhOe5ZvrfZZXKV5X3bg7WuDFZ8yBp9/s1600-h/DSCN0205.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447235437091224562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyEBr4LIv0qAqZibjKG1lIZwVdBkUFvzYgRs627CSEL1OGYTW8GyDu_U47DCy6_DULaHkXjx55Pp_twr1i9d1enUFjRbC39idcaF2-oIhOe5ZvrfZZXKV5X3bg7WuDFZ8yBp9/s320/DSCN0205.JPG" /></a><br /><div></div>divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-21042020535862601712010-03-09T20:37:00.000-08:002010-03-09T20:48:11.036-08:00My Vagina never met a wand it didn't likeLast May when I had my annual appointment my doctor asked me to consider stopping the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Depo</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Provera</span> shots. I had been using <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Depo</span> for about ten years because of severe <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">endometriosis</span>. She was worried about the long term effects, specifically it can cause bone loss. She gave me some info and asked me to consult a specific OB/<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">GYN</span>, which I finally did today. Yeah, so I'm a few months behind schedule.<br /><br />I have had a bone density scan and show no signs of bone loss. The physician today did a fairly thorough exam including a pelvic ultrasound. He actually said, and I quote, "your ovaries are dormant." <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">LMAO</span>, well I hope so. It just sounds sad though....Dormant Ovaries.<br /><br />Anyways, he says ultimately it's my decision. Nobody knows what the real long term effects of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">depo</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">provera</span> are but there is some concern because of my family history of breast cancer. The frustrating thing is I have no idea how much longer I would be on it. My mom had a hysterectomy in her thirties so my sister and I have no idea about when to expect menopause. <br /><br />I can't believe I'm thinking about when I'll start menopause. That is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">soooooooo</span> depressing.<br /><br />What we, or I, decided is that I would take a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">depo</span> break for awhile. It's possible that the time on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">depo</span> has helped and when my period finally starts back up it won't be too traumatic in terms of, well, everything. He's scheduled me to come back in September because I should be on a somewhat regular cycle by then <br /><br />The downside is that there are two things that occur when I'm not on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">depo</span>. My sex drive increases, which really isn't helpful right now.....and my breasts tend to swell, and not in a good way. I'm already a D cup and in the past it's been pretty painful. For those of you who have given birth, imagine what it's like when your milk comes in or when you're trying to dry up. Yep, it's like that, but without the milk.<br /><br />So, for now, I'll just hang and see what happens. I'm due for my next injection next month so I won't be getting that. Hopefully it won't ruin my summer.<br /><br />Or yours.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-3682428823847398342010-03-08T20:50:00.000-08:002010-03-08T21:09:53.211-08:00Alone in the RingTo answer a question left after my previous posting, yes, I do have someone to talk to. I've been seeing a therapist for a little over a year now. At first to deal with a lot of issues after my mom died, but naturally it's evolved into what I'm going through now. <br /><br />When I left my last appointment my therapist pointed out that I had three options. None of these options included the one I wanted to hear which was 'go back to pretending like everything was perfect.' None of the three options are ones that I can easily live with. So right now I'm in limbo. I hate limbo. I like to have a plan. I like to problem solve. <br /><br />But I can't solve this. <br /><br />The worst part is that my level of self-esteem has completely <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">plummeted</span>. Before, when I was stressed out I could take it to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">dojo</span>. Work out my grief, my sorrow, my anger, on a heavy bag or in sparring. But now, I have no confidence in the ring. I argue with myself just to get the desire to spar. I discussed this with my trainer today, which was difficult, because even though I'm the type of person that wears her heart on her sleeve I have a difficult time sharing my feelings. And this situation, brings me shame and I don't want <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">anyone's</span> pity. He's understanding of the situation and encouraging, which I do appreciate. <br /><br />I've just turned into this weepy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">girly</span> person that I hate. And I don't know how to shake it. It's driving me nuts.<br /><br />Plus I'm sick. I've had some stress (duh) and it's positioned itself right between my shoulder blades. Every morning for the last couple of weeks when I've gotten up in the morning, it's been unbelievably tight and painful. Last Friday my trainer worked out some of the kinks, which I believe released some toxins. By Friday night I was starting to feel sick and by Saturday morning I had the worst head cold. Sunday I had a massage scheduled to work out the rest of the kink so I then spent part of Sunday night very ill (I'll leave out the details) and now I feel worse. It was a necessary evil, but worth it because even though I'm all congested, my shoulder blades feel better.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38903491.post-86415792402467487752010-03-01T19:30:00.000-08:002010-03-01T19:41:37.870-08:00What Happened to My Fairytale?I haven't been wanting to blog. In fact I briefly considered deleting it entirely, but I've done that before with my previous blog and I really regret it. <br /><br />The few people that comment consistently on my blog always mention that they enjoy it because I'm honest. I don't blog with all anecdotes about my life and try to make it sound funny. My life isn't morose by any stretch of the imagination, I'm just not that type of blogger. I blog just as a means to an end. It's a way to get the stuff that's in my head out of my head. <br /><br />However, right now, I'm dealing with some issues that exist between my husband and I. And as much as I feel the need to let it all out, I just can't do that here. Out of respect for him and our marriage, these issues do not need to be part of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">internet</span>. <br /><br />I'm not sure what's going to happen. I'm not sure if our relationship will survive the issues we're dealing with. This much isn't a secret. <br /><br />I think that at this juncture, we will survive, but only if I change what I want/expect/need from our relationship and that's easier said than done. I'm the kind of person that wears my heart on my sleeve. It's nearly impossible to hide how I feel so I've spent the past three weeks pretty torn up. <br /><br />One way or the other I"ll be <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span>.divacowgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09070106373761657241noreply@blogger.com2