This is for the ladies:

Imagine.

Imagine a world where we see ourselves the way God sees us.

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We enter this world as infants, innocent and ready to receive love.

Then the ugly world takes over.

We’re taught about insecurity, pain, mistrust, bitterness and anger.

We become victims of  judgment and discrimination.

We grow up to resent our genetics and place ourselves on a ladder of the perceptions of imperfect men. We weigh our value on their perceptions of beauty, sex and love.

Imagine a world where these perceptions didn’t matter.

Unfortunately my friends, A world like that will never exist.

So what do we do?

We must take a step outside of ourselves and learn to love what we see… inside and out.

We are tainted with experience. We are not perfect. But on those days that we feel beautiful… when our pants fit just right and our shirt hangs appropriately… these are the days that we have an extra pep in our step.

The “pep in our step” is intangible… but obvious. People can’t put their finger on it… but when a confident women walks up to you… you know it. She loves herself. She feels beautiful. She feels smart. She feels strong.

I believe every woman has the capability to feel this way.

Imagine if tomorrow 50% of women felt extra confident. Imagine! The world would completely change! You’d have women speaking up, teaching a friend something new, volunteering, earning higher education, overcoming an obstacle, standing up for themselves…

Come with me. Join me on this journey.

Women are capable of many, many things. We are capable of pushing past the boundaries that DO NOT exist.

I believe physical strength corresponds with inner confidence. Physical strength is possible. It’s only a kettlebell or push-up away.

It’s so close. Reach out and grab it. This is your life. You are capable of conquering the world.

got this pic off of crossfit.com main site

Workout of the Day
“Angie”
100 Pullups
100 Pushups
100 Situps
100 Squats

Did Angie as RX’d and finished in exactly 20:07! I am a freak, because this is my favorite workout (Besides Cindy). I also like Murph, which is a similar WOD (but harder): 1 mile run, 100 pull-ups, 200 push-ups, 300 air squats, 1 mile run. I prefer the body weight stuff (ring dips, etc.) to weightlifting workouts that involve thrusters and Overhead Squats.

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But alas, my battle with emotions continues. Found myself squirting tears all day. And don’t tell me it’s from the Christmas Music. I get the opposite effect from holiday tunes – especially from that one weird ass song about sending shoes to a dead mother in heaven… don’t get that one at all.  I love how the DJs are always really somber after that song plays… when really you know inside their head they’re thinking, “I’ll lower my voice and act sensitive, even though I have no fucking clue what that song is about!”

Anyway! I don’t know. Just feel like crying (when usually I’m slow to openly cry). And when the tears come it’s like this beautiful release – kinda like scratching an itch or drinking water after a workout. The tears feel natural and good – like they’re satisfying an urge I’ve had for a long time.

Devin asked me to re-post a story I wrote a few years ago. It’s a true story about getting shit faced. See below (it originally aired on MySpace in 2006)

Warning: This Blog Contains Foul Incontinence

They say pimpin’ ain’t easy. Neither is dog-sitting a seventy pound lab with “issues.”

See, Therese (twin sis) came to visit me this past summer. She brought along her lovable, easy-going, friendly yellow lab named Dullard. Therese rescued Dullard from a doggie fostering agency in Texas. He’s somewhere between 3 and 5 years old – and although he can’t speak of his past experiences as a stray, his issues certainly paint a pretty good picture. A picture clear enough that Therese named him Dullard within a few hours of his adoption.

Therese’s visit to North Carolina had one condition: she had to go to Washington D.C. for a week to take care of business, but she would be back to hang out with me for a week after that. She asked that I watch Dullard while she was in D.C. Seemed like no big deal to me, after all, I already have a dog, Trooper.

Fur cousins: my dog Trooper and Therese's dog Dullard in 2006

Before Therese pulled out of my driveway, she warned me, “oh, Dullard is afraid of certain lights, cell phones, strange noises, lightning, thunder, vacuums, laser levelers, other dogs, pooping in strange places, most people, food…”

Day 1 went by pretty well. I was concerned, though, because Dullard hadn’t eaten or pooped since Therese had left. I would walk him on his long leash around the neighborhood but we weren’t having much luck. Therese warned me that he would run away. She also threatened to kill me if I lost her dog.

By day 2, during one of our walks, Dullard started to squat. I was so excited that he was finally defecating that I didn’t realize my strategic placement about 10 feet behind him. Well, without warning, after his poop was complete, he started revving his hind legs like he was about to start a motorcycle. Trooper does this, too, however she’s about 50 lbs. lighter and she’s much more dainty about it. What FELT like MUD flew into my face – right in the TEAR DUCT of my left eye.

Immediately the smell hit me.

Dog shit had just flown onto my face.

Well, let me tell you, I’m a gagger. I gag if I see someone else gag.
Dog shit on my face brought my experience in gagging to a whole new level. I basically dry-heaved and violently gagged the entire way back into the house. I was blind in one eye, had a dog freaking out by my strange reaction on a leash, and doubled-over heaving the entire way back to the closest bathroom. I ran to the vanity, and gagged some more at the site of dog shit on my face. I had to take my fingernails and scrape the dog shit off my eye. By then my stomach hurt from the dry heaving and I was washing my face like a desperate teenager with acne.

Day 3. Dullard missed his trusted owner so much that he got a little condition I’m familiar with: IBS. Dullard started breathing heavy this afternoon and went into my kitchen. Then, like a waterfall of pudding, Dullard shit a loose turd stream right by my dining room table. I got some paper towels and dry-heaved my way through the cleanup process. Actually, Nate cleaned it up, but I did all of the gagging while I watched in support.

Day 4. Dullard peed out of his butt again. All over my bathroom floor.

Day 5. Dullard’s intestines weren’t settled yet. This time he shit a pool of chocolate milk by my back door. But this time he slid his tail through it before I could get him outside. Remember, I couldn’t just open the door and let him go – so I had to get him on a leash first. Before I could get him hooked up, Dullard managed to run around the kitchen hitting the walls – leaving Picasso style paint strokes of dog shit all over. The poop tail swiped against me, too and once again I had Dullard shit on me – this time on my back and shoulder.

When Therese finally returned on Day 6 we were all incredibly happy to see her. Dullard jumped in her arms and was a happy, healthy, solid-pooping pooch the entire week she was at my house with him (go figure).

In conclusion, dog-sitting for a rescue animal with issues ain’t easy. But, I’ll also admit that I’d do anything for Therese – so if cleaning up her dog’s shit warrants a visit from her, I would deal with it all over again.

Dullard in 2009: Therese taught him how to balance a pancake on his head