And now, she begs...

Wowie, what a few days it has been!! First, I want to say thanks for all the supportive words in response to yesterday's post - nice to have you all in my corner on this one! And now that I have a waiting list of seat fillers, I know that no matter what, the concert will be great fun.

Second, I'm blogging today on my (late) lunch hour whilst at work because I'm so bleepity bleepin' tired I can barely keep my eyes open. Which means if I don't blog now, there will be no blog for today. And I just can't bear to put you all through with-diva-drawl.

Third, the peacoat. There seems to be a lot of uncertainty as to what constitutes a peacoat, so please allow me to present you with a visual to crystallize your understanding. This is not a photo of my peacoat, no...in fact, my lovely fuchsia beauty is merely single breasted and as such, not a bona fide peacoat to you peacoat purists out there. But I'm sure you'll forgive me the hyperbole.

I couldn't find an image in fuchsia (neither my lunch break nor my patience is that long) so had to settle for red. I hope this image will resonate regardless. Lovely.

Now, back to yesterday.

As you know it started quite limply, with little fanfare or bright, shiny goodness. I'd like to reassure you all that it did, indeed improve...I simply hate the thought of you worrying about little ole me, so I hope you all breathe a sigh of relief now.

It got especially better once work was done for the day and I trekked down to the local Baton Rouge to sup with CJ. Delish. I had ribs and a baked potato - divine. Snaps to me for going with the baked potato as opposed to the fries I so desperately wanted, and for staying away from the dessert menu. I'm a freakin' saint.

After dinner there was still time to fill, so we perused the fine shops of the Eaton's Centre (including a quick stop at Shoppers where we bumped into Camilla to get meds for my 'tummy' issues - don't know what I ate or why this happened this time, but the prospect of sitting in a theatre unmedicated for almost three hours without reasonable access to a washroom simply didn't appeal to me).

Meds procured and ingested, we continued on our merry way and blissfully stumbled on the new Abercrombie and Fitch. The look on CJ's face was reminiscent of those silly Sprawl-Mart commercials where the woman has an expression of sheer bliss frozen on her face as she gazes in the direction of her bill. CJ's a fan of the A&F, and hadn't realized it had made its way north of the border.

Let the games begin.

In truth we weren't there that long, we couldn't be due to time constraints, but we both managed to make a purchase in our shopping blitzkrieg. She, being the cute, sporty physique girl (and she works hard to stay that way, so props to her, no disrespect intended) managed to snag a delightfully soft, pink (that's my girl!!) tank top, and was instantly in heaven.

I, being the cute, couch-y physique girl, bought a bag. 'Cause let's face it, even if this weight loss thing pans out, it'll be years before I can squeeze a mere limb of mine into any of their apparel. CJ and I believe their clothes, the bottoms especially, are designed exclusively for pre-pubescent girls (you know, the hipless wonders). So I leave with a bag and am happy!

Now, this photo truly does nothing for the bag. In real life, up close and personal, it's soooo much better. I can't wait to transfer all my worldly goods into it and ease it gently into my life on tomorrow's GO train ride in. Anticipation is so sweet.

Back to the show. Yes. So we went to see We Will Rock You, the Queen musical. I was never a massive Queen fan, but I do like the music and was curious to see where they'd go with this. AND the fact that sweet Suzie McNeil (from Rockstar INXS fame) was in it really appealed to the starfucker in me, so they basically had me by the short and curlies as soon as the ads starting appearing last year.

The vocal performances were very strong, that part was fab. Suzie rocked it out - she was absolutely incredible. The show itself....well. To borrow a line from Reality Bites, it was so cheesy I had to have crackers just to listen to it. Seriously. The whole idea behind it was a tad far fetched even for my tastes, and some of the lines while funny, were snicker funny as opposed to belly laugh funny. I'm more of a belly laugh funny girl myself, so the shtick kinda got to me.

That, and the male lead is from Quebec. Now, please don't get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing against our francophone counterparts, mais non. It was his accent - it just stuck out, didn't fit in, didn't jibe with the rest of the show. And of course, the more something stands out, the more I'm going to laugh at it. So every time he spoke, CJ and I would go into silent laugh mode, our shoulders heaving up and down as we tried not to laugh out loud. Just seemed soooo out of place.

At the end of the show, I jump out of my seat and run for the doors. There's no WAY I'm missing the 11:13 train and getting stuck downtown for an extra hour. Nosiree. But I get there with plenty of time to spare, and at 12:08 am we pull into the station and I walk into Hubs' arms.

Yep, my fantastic hubby was there to pick me up, even at midnight. Love him.

We chat, catch up on the events of the day and he tells me there's a message from Sludge on the phone at home. For me. Now, she's desperate. And begging. So unattractive.

Basically she wants me to call her so we can chat - she needs me to know how important this is to her and wants to appeal to my sense of fairness. Or some crap like that...I kinda tuned out once I got the gist of the message.

I've told Hubs I will not be calling her back. I'm tired and I really don't want to say things that I'll absolutely love saying in the moment, but will regret in the long run. So the poor guy has offered to be my patsy and deliver my message - I don't want to talk to her because there's nothing new to say. But there's one thing I do want her to know:

For the past two and a half years that I've been in Hubs' (and therefore DeeDee's) life, I have always made decisions in the best interest of DeeDee even if I must sacrifice a smidge of my own happiness - because she's a kid, she can't fight for herself, and she deserves it.

I WAS her as a child, a kid caught in the middle, and I never want that for her or any child. I've been making decisions with her as the number one element of consideration for all this time, and, as Sludge is so quick to remind me, I'm not her mother.

So isn't it time that she, as DeeDee's real live mom, does the same thing?

Yeah.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?