She found me again...

Your friendly neighbourhood Aunt Flo, that is.

Ah the miracles of modern medicine. For most of you, my dearest readers, her arrival is a monthly nuisance, a pain in the snap snap and for some, a self imposed time out from the mattress mamba.

For me, it is an almost religious experience. I realize this must sound quite strange as we're trying to get pregnant and pregnant folk generally frown on bleeding, but for us, she's a very necessary evil to get us back to square one and try things again. So here we are. Square one. And it only took two freaking weeks to get back here.

Generally speaking, I'm feeling a bit more positive about our prospects this time. Trying not to get my hopes up too high but still...at least I'm starting to believe the hype from those around me. You know, everyone telling me it's just a matter of time and we WILL have a baby in the near future. Well, it's starting to come a bit more into focus for me, and I think that's a good thing. Fingers crossed this is going to be our shot! And if not, there's always next time.

The clinic seems to be onside - I got a call from them today asking me to come in for blood work and ultrasound on Wednesday, day three of my cycle. This is new, and should be interesting. I pity the fool who has to do the ultrasound - I don't know about you, but Aunt Flo stays longer than three days in my world. Maybe it'll be the guy that told me I'm still young and have lots of time to get pregnant. Yeah, that's it. Karma's a bitch. :)

They've also decided to DOUBLE my dosage of clomid...wow. Up to 200 (mgs, I guess). Wowie. I've only heard about one other person at that dosage. Hopefully it won't make me too mental - Hubs and I are a mere 6 weeks away from our first wedding anniversary and I kinda wanna make it there with him by my side as opposed to him renting some basement apartment from a friend in a desperate attempt to get away from the crazy lady he married. Yeah, it really is supposed to be that bad!

Never a dull moment.

In other news, hope everyone had a good weekend. We took it a bit easy as we're both feeling like bags of snot. Delightful, I know, but it's an apt description, okay? Hubs even went to the doctor today to get some antibiotics - and that's a minor miracle in and of itself. He's not a big fan of the medical world, but at least he has the smarts to go when he needs the goods. And today, he most definitely needs the goods.

I, on the other hand, am fighting a losing battle with this nasty virus thingie. I've been trying my damdest to keep it at bay for weeks now, but it seems like it's taking over slowly but surely. And today it's kinda giving me the ole bitch slap in the face. I sound like a coke addict sniffling all the time (remember that Seinfeld episode where Kramer thought the comedian was a cokehead but all along it was his sweater? Yeah, I'm that guy). I feel sorry for my office neighbours - our walls are veeerrry thin and they MUST hear me sneezing, sniffling, and coughing all hours of the business day. Poor bastards. Here's hoping, for not only my sake but theirs as well, that the darned thing works its way through my system sooner rather than later and I can go back to being as quiet as a wee church mouse.

Yeah, like that will ever happen. Ah well, gotta love good intentions.

Anywhoo - I feel like I'm rambling now, but wanted to check in with my gals, say hi, and let you know that I'm back in the proverbial saddle and galloping towards another attempt at baby making. Hope you're all doing well and that the sun is shining wherever you may be. Here's to surviving yet another Monday!

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

Meh...

It's a meh kinda day, ya know? Meh. I just feel meh. The weather is meh. I have a headache, so my energy level is meh. There are so many things I could be doing with my evening but no, there's too much meh in me to do any of them.

So I return to the world of my blog.

Sorry I've been absent over the past few days. It's been a meh week. Work has been busy which is never a bad thing - I'd rather be busy than bored any flippin day of the week - but the weather making this huge change from beautiful right back to rainy and miserable...so not fair. It's like last weekend was a glorious tease, and Mother Nature's sitting up there with her umbrella laughing her ass of at all of us.

Meh.

There have been some positives these past few days. I had dinner with the lovely Leanne on Tuesday night which was delightful. We chatted, vented, dished some serious WB dirt (no worries Leanne, I'll never tell), and had a good time just shooting the proverbial shit as only girls can do.

I stayed home from work yesterday as I had yet another crippling headache, an upset stomach, and fatigue like you wouldn't believe. And since I knew that I'd have to be up at 5:15 this morning to get to work for a breakfast thingie at 7:15, I decided that my physical symptoms and my mental blechiness required me to stay put in my jammies.

I did manage to get some work done, but more importantly (for my health, that is) I got three extra hours of sleep and stayed in said jammies until Hubs came home early at 3:30. I figured it was time to shower shortly thereafter, but man, there's nothing like lounging in your own filth for hours upon hours upon hours. Not that I was really that filthy, you understand - I had showered the day before - but you know what I'm talking about. It was good.

We watched that Idol Gives Back craptacular last night just after dinner. Thank goodness that dinner had time to settle before it began, otherwise there might have been pizza remnants on my coffee table. Not that I don't think it's great that they're doing something to combat AIDS in Africa and poverty in the heartland of the U S of A, hell, they raised more than $30 million, but come on! The schmaltz, the white outfits, the new song...too much for this kid.

I did, however, love it when Eric McCormack said that if everyone that ever voted for Sanjaya gave even one dollar, they'd have millions for the cause. How freakin awesome is that? Highlight of the show, bar none. Other than the closing credits, of course. Can we get back to the real show now? Voting people off? All that good stuff? Good. Glad we had this little talk.

Back to work today for that early morning breakfast. It was very interesting actually which is good - it's the only thing that kept me awake at that time of day. The coffee was as weak as I am standing in front of the dessert table at a buffet - and that's pretty weak. It barely counted as coffee. I'm all for stretching the budget when you're hosting a charity event but come on, I paid $100 to be here. I'm not getting a gift bag or any trinkety things - at least brew me a good strong cup o joe.

Thankfully there was a Starbucks one floor up that boss and I visited immediately following the conclusion of the breakfast. One sip alone was in java bliss.

All this, and it wasn't even 9am yet. Meh.

So I head into the office and encounter what will undoubtedly be the highlight of the day. My lovely, considerate, fantastic sister in law sent me flowers - yesterday, so I didn't get them until today - and they were such a fantastic pick me up you have no idea. They're beautiful pink roses, purple orchids, snapdragons, lilies, and to top it all off, they were all beautifully presented in a square pink glass vase. Sigh. What did I do to deserve such great in laws? Must have been a past life thing. What a sweetheart. I love, love, love them. I stare at them all the time, and sniff the roses frequently. Gotta take the time, and all that.

After that delightful start to the second wave of my morning, I moved on to a series of meetings and phone calls and emails - no time for WB or Facebook! WTF? I'll have to catch up tonight I suppose. Note that I don't spend my working days on social websites...let's make that clear. I'd hate to leave any of you with the impression that I'm not dedicated to my 9-5 'cause I most certainly am. But there's always lunch time, eh?

The rest of the day passed in a blur - more meetings and phone calls and emails, throw in a birthday lunch for good measure, and all the sudden it's time to make my way to my thundering chariot of steel.

And now we're home. Hubs is getting sick and I feel so badly for him - he has sinus trouble on the best of days, and today it just sounds soooo terrible. He's so stubbed ub, poor guy. Guess that means I have to go make dinner if we want to eat.

Meh.

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

Rainy days and Mondays always get me...

Hello my lovelies. Apologize for not blogging last night, but you see I was simply having way too much fun with my friend CJ to hop on the computer, and by the time we said goodbye it was my bedtime so no blogging was to be had. That, and I felt like I could barf at any moment, so the sensible diva in me elected to head to bed as opposed to the computer. Barf and laptops don't mix so well, ya know?

So, how have you been? For you local gals, did you enjoy that freak storm yesterday? Wow. Nutso! I was sitting on the GO train winding my way home and it was impossible to know when the train had actually left the station - it was just as dark outside as it had been inside! Strange weather we have.

Of course it was POURING when I got off the train so mine poor fragile self did get a tad soggy on her way to Hubs and our Kia. Even with an umbrella. Humph. And Murphy's Law being what it is, a minute later (I kid you not - seriously, a minute) the rain stopped. Like the big man just turned off the taps. The sun came out, and I could barely enjoy it as I spent the majority of the car ride home attempting to dry off my new Jeanne Lottie bag. Poor thing, gets all well on it's maiden voyage into the world. Sometimes life is not fair.

From there, CJ stopped by and we gave her a tour of the maision now that all the stuff is moved in. She was a soldier in my painting army back in February so she's seen the place, the before and after, but always from a completely empty perspective. So it was great to show it all off now that the furniture is in, the art is up, and the photos are all over the place.

She and I headed to a local pub/wing place that I'd wanted to try for a while and, while the company and conversation was more than delightful, the food left a bit to be desired. Now let's make it clear I am not a foodie in any definition of the word. Yes, I like food. My divaesque physique only reinforces that notion. But I'm not one of those 'let's have prosciutto wrapped asparagus as an appetizer for tonight's soiree' kinda gals. I know it seems contrary to my entire diva persona, but so be it.

Not that there's anything wrong with the prosciutto-wrapping set (honestly Camilla - you've got to be you), it's just not for me. Yes, I like fresh ingredients. Yes, I like experimenting with interesting ingredients. Yes, I do enjoy a fancy meal well prepared and presented. But I also really dig a good steak on the barbie, ya know?

I seem to have gone off on yet another tangent. Where was I going with all this? Ah yes, the food at our local.

I was starving, so had ribs and wings. I figured that if there were some leftovers, I could take them home to Hubs who was eating alone tonight. Uh, yeah. That never happened. You knew that was coming, right? No big surprise? Indeed.

The food was fine. It wasn't great and most certainly does not hold a candle to airport wings (the Fox and the Fiddle on Carlingview near the airport makes the best wings in the history of the world, lick it stick it stamp it no erasies), but I was so hungry in the moment I was willing to overlook it all. Maybe the food was what made me barfy a few hours later...ewwwww.

Following dinner, we walked back chez diva and Hubs and I introduced CJ to the Wii. Good times. Ohhhhh yeah, I love that stupid little thing. We had great good fun, and it helped to while away the hour or so between our triumphant return and the other raison d'etre for the evening - a new episode of The Bachelor.

Yes, CJ and I are both addicted to this show. Shut up, I can hear you snicker/laugh, but it's another of my guilty pleasures and I won't apologize to anyone. So there. :)

When we were roomies, we'd watch this show together religiously. We'd laugh at the crazy women and, when they'd deign to thrown us a Bachelorette bone, we'd ogle the 25 male contenders for weeks on end. Since living in separate abodes, we've chatted endlessly about the progress of each show and who we liked, and it's become one of those things that good friends have to laugh and chat about, time and time again.

The show ended at 11 and CJ hopped into her car to make her way back to her place in the big city. I took my aforementioned barfy self upstairs to bed, and after a good five minutes of wrestling with a sleeping Hubs, I managed to make enough room for me, curl into a ball, and let sleep take over. Ah sleep. How I love thee so.

And how I wouldn't have given my left boob for an hour or two extra of it this morning. But here I am, a bit sleepy, starting another work day. Ah well, at least the sun's shining. And I still have both my boobs intact.

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

What a roller coaster day

What a weekend. It's 10:30 on Saturday night and I'm spent.

Friday was a pretty decent day, actually. After our big event at work and my late arrival home on Thursday, a slower paced Friday was definitely a welcome relief.

My parents are in town this weekend and it's the first time they've seen the new house, so needless to say - it had to be spotless. So instead of spending lots of time with them last night, we came home, had pizza, and scrubbed the place (sans vacuuming) from top to bottom to be ready for them to come over today for dinner.

So...the morning arrives and while Hubs heads out to get the vittles to make dinner, I sleep a bit more (god love a weekend), then finally pull myself out of bed and downstairs to the vacuum and the remaining chores.

It's so beautiful outside that I kinda go overboard, and before you know it I'm cleaning the windows, sweeping the front porch, cleaning off the ole Aderondack (sp?) chairs and bringing them out of the garage, dusting everything in sight...it felt great to finally be able to open windows and get air moving through the house. Sigh.

I wrote to a friend, telling her that I was so happy the weather was so nice, because it really helped to get my brain off all this fertility stuff - I was feeling really good about life in general, and that rocked.

Until my sister told me she's 12 weeks pregnant.

Yeah, that was a bit of a shocker. My mom, sister and I had gone shopping and were in a home decor store that had all sorts of girly/baby stuff and my mom picked up a baby blanket, looked at me and said, 'shall we start your collection?' I said no, thanks...I'm too superstitious and just can't stomach it. Then she looked at my sister and asked her the very same question...and I damned near puked up my Tim Horton's coffee. I asked her if she was pregnant and she said yes.

Wow.

Of course I'm super happy for her. She's my sister!! She's been talking about having another one (her son is two and a half years old and she always wanted a second one by the time he was three) so it's not like it was a huge surprise.

It just kinda derailed me in the moment, ya know?

My sister and my mom have both been blessed with the highly fertile gene. My sister got pregnant all three times they didn't use birth control (two ended in miscarriage but the third one stuck). Me, two and a half years, and not a damned thing.

Anyway, I said congrats, and we continued shopping. We walked up and down the street for a bit, then went into a baby/kids furniture store she'd always wanted to go to.

Just going into the place was sensory overload. Cribs, beds, wardrobes, blankets, Robeez, strollers, pillows, safety stuff - you name it, if it was designed for a baby and super cute, it was in that store.

And I was actually doing pretty well. I kept biting my lip to keep from losing it as we wondered, and I was holding it together.

Then I set my eyes on the cutest little pink caplet and that was it. I had to walk a bit ahead because I needed a bit of distance. My sister started talking and asked me a question, so I was forced to turn around. In that moment she saw my face and asked me if I was okay.

And no, I clearly wasn't. I burst into tears. Right there in the middle of the store.

They came over and both said that it would happen for me, it's just a matter of time. We didn't spend much more time in that store.

Alas. My beautiful weather high was replaced with my fertility challenge low.

I feel terrible, because my sister deserves to be happy, to be able to celebrate her pregnancy. And she feels bad because of all of our struggles. No one wins here, but I feel so badly because I'm robbing her somehow of her ability to enjoy this with the whole family.

And my poor mom - I told her that it wasn't like she needed to choose between being happy for her and being sad for me, that they don't have to be mutually exclusive. She is of the opinion that I will get pregnant and we will have a family, and she holds on to that while I have trouble with it as a general premise (you may have read my post on hope).

Then it was time to come home, collapse into a sobbing heap on Hubs' shoulder, then get dinner ready, 'cause everyone was coming over. Fortunately I had some time to get myself used to the idea, so dinner was okay all things considered.

And now here we are. I'm really looking forward to getting to bed and just sleeping. You know when you spend a good amount of time crying and you're just exhausted by the end of the day? Well, that's me. Plain tuckered out.

Thankfully the weather's going to be incredible tomorrow too, so let's just hope that with a new day comes a renewed good weather high.

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

Short but semi sweet

Sorry kids - I'm too tired to ramble on like I usually do.

It's been a very long day. I just got home from work about 20 minutes ago and scarfed down Wendy's for dinner. At 10:20. Not great for the blood sugar, but I couldn't go without food. Boo.

So now I'm watching Grey's in my pj's, catching up on emails, and looking forward to bed like you'd never believe. As such, this will be a hugely abbreviated entry today, begging your apologies.

I'll do my best to be back tomorrow to regale you with all sorts of crazy antics. 'Cause it's Friday, the sun will be shining, and I'm going to the Jeanne Lottie sample sale. All is almost right with the world.

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

What to my wondering eyes did appear?

But the sun! The freakin sun! I thought it forgot where I lived, that it, too, was feeling a bit blue and decided to hibernate for a while. And now, it's back. And I for one plan on enjoying every last minute of it.

It kinda hurts the eyes though, eh? It started to come out as I headed back to the office after a luncheon thing and I saw the blue (such a lovely colour) reflected in the glass of my office building. First I was in shock - they weren't forecasting sun until tomorrow - but as I turned my face skyward a slow smile crept across my lips. Finally. At long last.

Then the squinting started.

Thankfully I was quite close to mine workplace, so could slip in quickly before the retinal burn could set in. My poor ocular orbs have gone without for so long, they barely know how to cope anymore. Add to the sun's prolonged absence the fact that my eyes are blue and are therefore scientifically more sun sensitive AND the fact that clomid lowers your tolerance for sunlight and it's a minor miracle that I'm not bumping into walls and tripping over my own feet.

When Hubs picked me up at the GO station this evening, I stumbled out of the train, blinking furiously, and snapped on those magnetic sunglass thingies as soon as I got into the car. Ah, sweet relief. But lemme tell you, all this time with no UV makes my temporary discomfort more than worthwhile.

So what else happened today....well, strange people from my past are attempting to reacquaint themselves with me via the next internet scourge/time sucker - Facebook.

For those of you at all interested, here's my take on this puppy. First, I feel that it's primarily used by college/uni students the world over. I have been to university - two different ones in fact - but I received my Master's degree 10 years ago, so I'm not really acquainted with many kids currently writing exams, etc.

Having said that, I'm finding it fascinating seeing who from my old high school, etc is on this thing, and am actually starting to reconnect with some interesting characters from days gone by.

Which is a good thing - and a not so good thing.

I've decided that I'm not really going to seek anyone out, that I'll be a more passive Facebook user than the average Joe (or Joanne) that signs up and hangs out there 24/7. My info's there, and if people want to reconnect with me, so be it. Cool. Fab. Fantastic.

So far, I've connected with a number of WB gals (excellent), a gal I went to undergrad with (cool), someone else who has the same name as me but lives in Australia (quirky but interesting)...and a former roommate (yikes), a former boss who passed me over for a job I should have gotten (bitch) and a guy I slept with a few times (that's right, I said it) and am now totally grossed out by (talk about buyer's remorse. Not that I bought him - oh god, no. I totally would have asked for a refund if that was the case. But I digress).

All in all, it's been quite the balanced scorecard. Neat to connect with people from the past, but sometimes people are in your past for a reason - and I'd kinda like it to stay that way. Shudder.

Wow, how did I get here? From 'yay sun!' to 'creepy ex fuck friend on Facebook' in a few simple paragraphs. Dag, I'm versatile.

Uh....where do I go from here? How 'bout an American Idol recap?

I warn you, I'm about to reveal who got the ever lovin boot tonight, so if you don't want to know - stop reading here. Oh, how it pains me to write that, but it's for your own good, poppet. There, there.




So if you're still reading, you're okay with me typing these happy, happy words:

THEY FINALLY GOT RID OF THAT FUCKING SANJAYA.

I'm truly that happiest diva in town tonight, I tell you what. It's about time, kiddies. Again, I feel badly for him - this couldn't have been an easy road, knowing that everyone was rooting for you - because you suck!

Poor bastard was all weepy and sad...um...was this really a shock to you? Ya didn't see this coming eventually? Man....sucky singer and not all that bright either. And the future of our planet is in his generation's hands, my dear readers. Save us all.

I guess that's about it. Hump day is officially over, Grey's Anatomy returns tomorrow, and we're one day closer to the glory that is a weekend. I want to take a brief moment to wish my gal Corrie good luck - she's gonna pee on a stick tomorrow to see if she and hubby timed it right, and I wish her all the best. I could use a little good news right now!

In fact, I think we all could. In celebration of the forthcoming weekend and the return of the sun, come on in here and tell me what good news you got going down. Doesn't have to be earth shattering - hell, for me it's good news when I get the outside seat on the lower level of the GO train in the morning. These days I'm all about trying to find little moments of joy in the hope that it will morph, Transformer style, into something much more substantial.

Looking forward to hearing some happy news. It's been so long, I could sure use more than one ray of sunshine to get me through the day!!

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

Wii are delighted to announce...

that today, wii actually procured a Wii!

Yes, this is my ray of sunshine in an otherwise gray week. Will the sun EVER reappear? Ugh.

Anywho, my apologies for not coming back to give you a daily dash yesterday, especially since I'd all but promised you a return engagement. We all know the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and yesterday I laid a lot of asphalt en route to that fiery destination.

It's just that I couldn't find it in me to be positive last night, so I decided to just step back, regroup, and hope for a better tomorrow.

I think my medication has finally caught up to me. Either that, or I'm a teenie weenie hair away from a padded room and a drool bib.

I've generally been okay so far, but last night I had a mini meltdown. I had just finished looking at my bank account and I burst into tears. Not a completely unexpected reaction given the state of said account but still - totally out of proportion to the situation. Blech. So as you can well imagine, it was a bit of a challenge to pull it all together and write the happy, sunny blog posts I'd envisioned a few well intentioned hours earlier.

That, and I was glued to the tv trying to take in what the hell had gone down at Virginia Tech. Wow.

As tragic as these recent events have been I'm not going to dwell on them here. Despite all the crap of yesterday, both in my own personal bubble and in the world at large today was, finally, the better day I'd been looking forward to.

I had quite the successful day at work today. I got a verbal agreement for a very significant project, and that's fantastic news as I've been working with these people for months now and it's great to nail all the details down. And I feel like I'm back on the map, and that's super important to me.

I finalized plans to meet with my magazine editor friend to pick her brain about how to get into the world of writing for that genre. As I've mentioned here before, I'd really like to explore a small writing gig here or there, and she'll be a fantastic resource, not to mention a fabulous lunch companion.

I talked to CJ today after all too long a time and we're getting together on Monday - she's coming out here which is fanfuckingtastic! She hasn't seen the house since the painting was completed and we moved in (she was, however, involved in the actual painting, so I can't wait for her to see the fruits of her labours!!) so I'm excited to show it off. And we're going to watch the Bachelor together that night which really takes me back to a time when we were roomies and this was the foundation of our Monday nights.

And yes, Hubs worked extra hard (I think in reaction to my breakdown yesterday - he wanted to do something he knew would make me happy) to get his hands on a Wii. Yippee!!

We've been searching all over the place and as you can well imagine, they're sold out everywhere. He'd been told that EB Games was getting a shipment today so he went but no dice. Being the dedicated gent that he is, and maybe just a smidge fearful of another outbreak of tears on my part, he soldiered on and popped into a Future Shop.

He asked the question those poor bastards must get asked 80 times a day, and this time the answer was yes - they had gotten a bunch of inventory today and lo and behold - there was one Wii on the truck.

And it's ours. Muahahahahaha.

It's total fun. A great natural mood booster.

Until I lose.

Yeah, I'm really not all that good at losing, even if it is at something as seemingly inconsequential as a flippin video game. I like to say that I don't have a competitive bone in my body, at which point Hubs will jump in and say, 'yeah - they're ALL competitive bones'. Har har. Welcome to our quirky little world.

Anyway, we've tried out the baseball, tennis, golf (I suck), bowling (I rock) and the Wii fitness. Hubs also bought Wii Play so we're starting our way through that too. The things that amuse my small mind.

So there's the wrap up of the day. Apparently the sun is supposed to be making an appearance by Thursday, so I'm cautiously optimistic. If I can hang on and make it through one more miserable day, I may be rewarded with some blue sky and nice temps. I just wanna go for a walk and feel the sun on my face, is that too much to ask?

I didn't think so.

I also want to win the lottery, lose a crapload of weight, and bring about world peace. Is that pushing it? Ah well, Wii can't always get what Wii want.

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

A brief but important update...

Hi all,

So, we all know how rare it is for me to wander back into these parts to do a mid-day post, but I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for their kind words in response to my news of yesterday.

Yes, I'm still sad, but I'm better. I think I really needed to blog it all out in order to work towards feeling okay about it and I did. Now it's equally important for me to return and let you know that I'm not nearly as sad anymore and that I'll be okay.

This is a long and complicated road for us, but at least we're still on it. I have to keep remembering that that's what matters. As much as I really just want to retreat from the everyday and hibernate for a while (I really think the weather has something to do with it too - where the hell is the sun, dammit?) I realize that's just not doable. There are too many people counting on me to do too many things. Like work. And blog. And love. And, perhaps the thing I'm most known for, laugh.

So I'm trying to start laughing again and it's working. I still need to get through telling some key people at work why I'm a bit off today, but once that's done, everyone who needs to know will know, and on I'll go.

So thanks again for sticking with me, and if all goes well, when I come back to make my real post tonight it'll be a laugh riot. Hell yeah.

And that's a moment of reflection on yesterday's daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

It's a pity party...

...and you're all invited.

Booo for me.

So, if you've been reading previous posts, you know how excited I was to not ovulate while I was away at the conference. The possibility of such an occurrence plagued me, both before and during the trip, but now I know it's something I never should have given a moment's thought to.

'Cause I'm not going to ovulate any time soon.

After thinking that we were just a day or two away from our first attempt at interuterine insemination (IUI), I got quite the shock this morning. I was as bubbly as I could be at 8 am, sitting in the clinic. I enthusiastically offered my arm up to the blood sucking lady so she could do her thing. Then I bounced over to the ultrasound area, got my kit off, and headed into the exam room, surprisingly eager for my morning poke.

Hope is a wonderful and dangerous thing, my dear readers. You know why it's wonderful, but as for dangerous, well...let me tell you.

I'm sure I've mentioned somewhere in the course of the 77 blog posts made to date that my biggest fear is that I will not be able to have children. Medical science has kinda been backing up my sad assumption in the last little while, but it's also the one concrete tool we have to work with in an effort to not make that fear reality.

I remember the first day I sat with the doctor at the fertility clinic. We went through our histories, the test results everything and she said, and I quote, 'We're going to get you pregnant'. And in that moment, I actually felt hope.

Hope that had never really been there before, because the more hope you build up, the harder you fall when things don't work out as...well...as you'd hoped they would. Don't get me wrong, this is not an anti-hope post by any stretch of the imagination - I'm the last one to rail against something so powerful and necessary in daily life - it's simply my take on this particular situation.

I'd been afraid to hope because I didn't want to be let down too much. One of my favourite expressions is 'prepare for the worst, hope for the best' and it's how I live a lot of my life. I need to have a plan for how to handle things if they go bad but I refuse to focus on it, dwell on the negative, and then, by so doing, make it happen.

But because I've been carting this feeling around for the vast majority of my adult life, I've really started to believe that this is how my life will be. I'll go through the motions, we'll try things, but they won't work for whatever reasons. And that sucks. It's something that I've been trying to prepare myself for all of these years (the prepare for the worst part), and it's only recently that I really allowed myself to hope for a positive outcome.

And now, here I am. I'm sad, very sad, that it's come to this. And I have to continually shush the devil on my shoulder that's trying to say 'I told you so'. The angel on the other is whispering platitudes in my ear - this is only the beginning, there's still so much left to try, there are other people in way worse circumstances than you, it will work if you give it time, you're still young (that was my personal fave - the doctor actually said this to me this morning), it just wasn't meant to be this time....the list goes on and on and on and on.

The 'this' that I refer to is the cancellation of our first IUI cycle. I am not responding to the medication and will not ovulate anytime soon. My endometrial lining is now thick enough that it needs to go (get to know me!!!), so we cancel this cycle, stop the monitoring, and attempt to get back to square one.

Awesome.

Now I get to start pumping some new drugs into my system in an attempt to bring my period back. Again. I go from not having one for over four months, to having two in 28 days. Hmmm...come to think of it, guess that's how the majority of the rest of you live. Strange. Something I'm totally not used to, but here we go.

Once that starts, we'll try the clomid again, but this time at a higher dosage. The doc says that we have to start at one level then keep going, because it's really important to not have me produce too many eggs all at once 'cause that's dangerous, and we don't want to 'make your ovaries explode'. I'm hoping he was being figurative there, but you never can tell with these doctor types at 8am on a Sunday morning.

I left the exam room in tears of frustration and sadness for the lost opportunity. I've shed a lot of tears of loss today and it's weird, all I've lost thus far has been potential, a maybe, a what if. The possibility of going to the next step. But to me, it's a huge loss just the same.

The instant gratification girl in me hates the thought of having to start all over again, especially when it took me so fucking long to get here in the first place! I thought I'd paid my dues, put in my time but nope! Survey says? Try again. Start from scratch. Back it up.

Thankfully Hubs is insanely understanding about all this stuff and has been absolutely incredible. I'm really so lucky to have married such an amazing guy. He's made it better, as much as he possibly could have given the circumstances, and I can't ask for anything more.

So here we are, back at square one. I've gone to the pharmacy, picked up my new prescription, and will start it tonight. I'm trying not to build up too much hope yet again, but the optimist in me can't squish it completely. Maybe Provera will work faster for me than the prometrium did. Maybe it'll take 8 days again to get things going instead of 24 like the last time. Maybe 150 mgs of clomid will be the right amount, and these damned eggs will actually develop into something worth fertilizing. Maybe we just weren't meant to have a January baby - who knows.

What I do know is that I've got a pretty decent support system in place and that's worth its weight in gold (well, silver actually. I hate gold - it clashes with my skin tone). My friends and family have all showed up for my pity party in their best outfits and have brought with them smiles, kind words, and platter upon platter of hope canapes to keep things going.

'Cause lord knows, hope is the one thing that's in rather short supply in my kitchen these days.

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

Greetings from the east coast!

Well it's been a while since I've had a spare moment to grab the laptop and get onto the blog, but here I am at long last!

That's right, I'm in Halifax. The conference is now over, and I'm heading back west tomorrow. Can't wait to see Hubs...we're so ridiculous and sucky, these three days have been pretty hard! Especially since I have this absolutely beautiful king sized bed all to myself. Not that our new queen bed at home ain't lovely, it is - I can't wait to get back to it - but there's just something about a king, eh? I'm so starfishing every night (ya know, when you spread all your limbs in opposite directions and vaguely resemble a starfish? Glad we cleared that up). And you have no idea how excited I am to sleep in tomorrow.

All in all it's been a great few days out here. The conference has been good, the weather was beautiful until today, I got to have a lovely drink or two (maybe three for me, who's kidding who) with Ginelle and Kerri from WB (hi gals!!), I had dinner tonight with my old work colleagues who are based out of Halifax and who I love and respect the hell out of, got caught up with friends I've made over the years but really only see at conferences, and the best news of all - I haven't ovulated yet!!

I know that sounds really silly to celebrate that, especially since it's something I've been trying to do for soooo long, but now I know for sure that we haven't missed our shot this cycle, the one thing I was worried about before I even left home. Big relief. Big. HUGE!

So that's the good news. The bad news is that I'm getting sick. So not fair, I swear. I blame the stupid recycled air on the plane and in the hotel conference rooms. Wave a bug anywhere near my mucous membranes and I'm for sure coming down with something. I hate it. It sucks.

I bought the last pack of Cold FX from the hotel store and have been religiously shoving it down my gullet. I've been trying to get a good amount of sleep and yes, have ducked out of a session to come up for a nap if I was just feeling too crappy. I think it's saved me so far, and I'd rather miss one session and fight this as best I can than be there, then miss a few days of work next week as this foul plague takes hold in my head.

As it is, I'm so dizzy I look like I've been on quite the bender as I walk down the halls of the hotel. I'm guessing said plague has taken up residence in my ears to totally fuck with my balance - not cool plague, not cool. Rest assured this diva will be downing Advil Cold and Sinus before her plane trip home tomorrow.

That's pretty much the report from around here. But man, did I really miss out on some excitement on WB! I've checked in from time to time (of course - can't just go cold turkey) and have been amazed at the drama that's unfolded. Here's the detes:

Bride on WB receives her wedding invitations she's ordered in the mail and they're crap. Wrong colours, falling apart, you name it, it was wrong. And they need to go in the mail - NOW - to be out in time for her upcoming wedding.

And here's why I love WB and simply can't leave even though I'm 10 months past my expiration date as a bride. Ellabella, a bride to be herself, says hey - if a bunch of us all make you an invitation or two and mail them to you, you can save the time, energy and money (all of which were in short supply) of buying/making new ones.

Little did she know her idea would snowball into an incredible outpouring of kindness - and invitations! The first post was made on Wednesday, and by now well more than the 50 invites she needs for her guests are already winging their way to her home from other brides/wives living all over the country - some even in the States!

At first she protested, said she couldn't ask everyone to do something like that, but it was really sweet to offer. Well, you know us girls - we never take no for an answer. So Ellabella gathered all the info, passed it along to the crafty gals in the bunch (uh yeah - I counted myself out of this one - I'm crap at this stuff I know now), and man oh man the response has been absolutely incredible.

It sounds pouffy, but I'm really proud to be part of that fantastic community. I may not have been able to contribute anything to this particular mission, but watching it unfold around me and seeing so many complete strangers rushing to another's aide kinda boggles the mind and makes me feel all squishy inside at the same time. Simply put - chicks rule.

And it's gone beyond our little world - City TV even picked it up. Amazing. Love it. Kudos, chickies. It's about time the outside world got to see what a great group of people have congregated in our little corner of the internet.

Hmmm...wonder if there'll be an influx of new gals to the place? That'd be okay. There's always room for one more...especially if she gets hooked on my blog. :)

Hope you've all survived this Friday the 13th, and have a wonderful weekend! I'm home tomorrow so we should be returning to our regularly scheduled blogging schedule at that time. I heard you breathe that sigh of relief.

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

Who doesn't love a four and a half day weekend?

I tell ya, I could get used to this. Three and a half day weeks, then four and a half days off? Hell yeah - this is living! Unfortunately I can't keep up this pace and pay the mortgage all at the same time, but I can sure enjoy it while it lasts!

Today was pretty sweet, all things considered. I had a lot of wee little chores to accomplish today, but none required me to work up any kind of sweat or vacate the building until Hubs came home (from work - hehehehehe) with the car.

I had hoped to make a return trip to my happy Dragonfly (gift store) with my lovely sister in law who lives up the road but alas, it would appear that small town principles struck again - they were closed today. Boooooo.... So when she called and asked if I wanted to join she and her mom (my also lovely mother in law) on a trip to another delightfully small town with quaint stores etc etc, I sadly had to decline due to my exceedingly long to do list.

As such, I set about my business early in an attempt to strike as many chores off the list as possible in short order. I did the small amount of actual work that needed to be accomplished today (despite our offices being closed today there was still a wee thing that needed tending to), called the ETR 407 folks to fix the info on our account and finally order a transponder (after attempting to do same online last Thursday and screwing everything up royally), called Bell to find out what the hell was going on with their billing...

I'm going to pause and elaborate on this one for a minute. I'll get back to my list don't you worry, but I must rant about Bell and get it out of my system before I go postal on their telecommunications ass.

Back story - we moved into our new house February 15th. The phone was set up on February 8 so as to have said phone in service during the weekend of our painting party. Our first bill, dated March 4, arrived on March 14th and was due April 3. It was that nasty first bill, you know the one...it has the crazy installation fee, the month that just passed and, of course, they charge you in advance for the month of service to come. Delightful. Yes please, take my money, I have no qualms letting you keep it and build interest on it before I even use the service for that time period. While you're at it, lemme just bend over a smidge so you can shove your corporate foot up my tiny consumer ass. Sheesh.

As I was saying...bill was due April 3. I paid it in full on March 30th via internet banking. Transaction complete. Or so I thought.

All was delightful in bill world until I received one of their dreaded red notices, the kind I used to get when I was fresh out of school getting pennies for a paycheque, where some months I had to choose between getting behind on the phone bill or eating popcorn for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The kind that, once I started earning real money, I vowed to never get again because I was going to take better care of my finances. And I succeeded, dammit. So you can see how this red notice would instantly get my back up.

Especially since the due date on it was April 10. That's right, if I didn't pay by April 10, they were going to cut our phone off as of April 12. WTF?

Remember, the original bill, the FIRST bill we received for this house, was due on April 3. The bill said to please pay by April 3 or else late payment charges would be applied to my account. They never said those late payment fees would be $55 to reinstall my freakin line! Bastards.

Okay, so let's do the math. Tomorrow is April 10. I received this notice in the mail last Thursday, April 5th. Canada Post guidelines dictate that local mail takes, on average, two days to reach it's destination. Which means Bell had to issue said red bill no later than April 3 - the date the bill was actually due in the first place. Which is kinda moot, 'cause I paid it March 30, but apparently that's beside the point.

What the hell is going on over there?

So I call today to find out what's up, why this happened, and I get Joe Idiot on the phone. Of course. I tell him my story and he wanders off for five minutes before he tells me to disregard the notice, all is fine, they have my payment recorded and they won't be disconnecting the phone. Well no shit, smartass. I coulda told you that. I wanted to know what glitch in their system issues a disconnect bill before the due date of the original bill rolls around. And what does he tell me?

"Well, it doesn't matter, we have your money so what are you worried about?"

So many things wrong with that sentence, but alas. How do you fight an enemy with barely enough brain cells to keep them standing erect? Argh.

Fine. They've received my cash, they won't cut off my phone, but he just doesn't get it. I just want to get to the bottom of how this happened. Am I asking too much? Does anyone else think there's a bigger issue here? So I ask to speak to someone else. He asks if I want another agent. Well dur, that ain't gonna help me now, is it? No actually, I'd like to speak to your supervisor or someone else that can help me here.

And you'll never guess what he said...

"Sure you can speak to them, I can have someone call you in 24 to 48 hours."

And Bell wonders why people hate them so much. Add me to the list of haters, man. I'm through with this bullshit. Done. Finito. Ciao, Bell-a.

Phew! That felt really good. The vitriol was just flying out of my fingers there. Annnnndddd....I'm over it. Kinda.

Let's move on, shall we?

The remainder of the day. Let's see. I watched an additional five episodes of Alias, did a load of laundry, packed to go away, called in a refill to the pharmacy, renewed my library book, cleaned the kitchen, had a shower, and tidied up DeeDee's room. Desperate housewives eat your heart out.

Hubs came home just as I was finishing episode number five and we decided to get the remaining errands taken care of (Shoppers to get prescriptions, library to drop off books, Blockbuster to drop off movies, sisters place to drop off Easter goodies to she and nephew, East Side Mario's to pick up linguine chicken tetrazine) so we could rest for the remainder of the evening.

My Halifax trip is looming ever closer and we're kinda gooey, Hubs and I, so four days away is a big deal for us. Yes, we're that gross couple that really doesn't like spending stretches of time away from one another so we get all messy in the days preceding the departure, hence the hurry up and get stuff done so we can cuddle mentality.

I can hear you puking, but it doesn't bother me.

So. We get home, have dinner, pop in a movie and just chillax. And then the phone rings. It's DeeDee, and she's sobbing like crazy. Poor Hubs has no idea what's going on, whether she's hurt or in trouble or what. Turns out that she's had a falling out with her best friend and that she fibbed to Sludge, so all hell has broken loose. Hubs being the great dad he is has settled her down (DeeDee, that is) and is now trying to get Sludge to open her fucking eyes about what's going on with their daughter. Sigh. So hard on him....

So he talks, I blog. I have a feeling he'll be talking a lot longer than I'll be blogging (and this is a long one already) but that's okay. DeeDee takes priority over a little cuddle time. I can fend for myself and from the sounds of things, DeeDee really needs him to help her out right now. Wowie.

I think I'll go and finish packing while he continues in his attempts to break down the brick wall of cluelessness that is Sludge. 6 am will come pretty early tomorrow (another early morning ultrasound - yay!!) and 4:30 am will come even earlier the day after. Good thing I got to sleep in late today. Something tells me I'm really going to need every last minute I can get over the next few days.

I might be absent from blog world for the next day or two as the travel takes place. I'm going to be spending tomorrow night with Hubs at an airport hotel (hence yesterday's bow chicka bow) because we live quite the distance from the airport and my flight goes stupid early. As a result, blogging may not be top of mind wink wink, nudge nudge.

So I'll bid you all a fond few days. May the sun finally come out and warm this damned weather up. And from a completely selfish point of view, bring on said sun to melt all the freakin snow out east before I get there!!

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

A successful egg hunt!

Yes, I feel terrible for neglecting you all over the past few days. I came over here to take a peek, prepare my next diatribe, and I almost died when I saw that Thursday had been my last entry. How have you survived? Are you gasping for diva breath, delighting in finally, FINALLY seeing another post from me so you can breathe again!!???

No? Oh...well then, never mind. I suppose it is possible for you to live without a slice of my life for a day, maybe two, but I'm glad I won't be testing the limits by subjecting you to three post free days. No cruel and unusual punishment from this diva. Well, not in a public forum, anyway.

Moving on....

So much to tell you, my faithful readers! First let me wish you all a Happy Easter. Hope you're enjoying the long weekend, whether it comes to an end for you tonight (ie Hubs) or tomorrow night (ie moi). We're not really all that religious in my family so Easter's never been a big deal. As a result, even though I've said it, I find it quite strange for people to wish each other a Happy Easter. Uh, Happy Christ's Death and Quick Escape Weekend would be a bit more true to life. Then again, that doesn't mesh with the Hallmark-ification-ites' sunny bunny vision of the weekend, so you can see why my suggestion never made it past the drawing board. You have to admit, it's still better than Jesus on a Stick Day, as Hubs has been known to call it. Sigh....

Of course all the usual disclaimers apply - I apologize if these words offend; if you're Christian and find great spiritual significance (or even a modicum, yeah, a modicum still counts) in Easter. My words are not to mock by any stretch of the imagination, and merely reflect my thoughts on the matter and hand. And it's my blog, so me putting my thoughts out there is kinda the point. I hope we're all still okay here.

So it's a long weekend. You know what happened Thursday if you've been keeping up with the posts, so let's move along to Friday shall we? Friday....Friday.....was so long ago, I barely remember it! Paired with the fact that we did a boatload of absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, there's really not that much to report.

We did, however, make a festive effort by blowing out 10 eggs so DeeDee could decorate them via the sassy, sparkly egg decorating kit we picked up on Thursday. Mental note for next year - don't buy the dye kind, buy the stamping or painting kind. Dye is messy. And spills. And goes everywhere. Meaning you have to put an layer of aluminum foil over your entire tabletop to prevent staining on the long sought after kitchen table. But it's still workable.

Two hours later, we had 10 nicely dyed eggies to help decorate our Easter table. And a pink ring-shaped stain on the kitchen countertop. Bonus.

Since we have the new house it only seemed logical to us to offer to host Hubs' family here for dinner, so that was the plan for Saturday. Hubs got up stupid early Saturday morning to go grocery shopping for the day's supplies. He tried to beat the crowds but apparently these suburban types rise just as early as he does.

Upon his return we set to a quick tidy of the house, re-arrangement of the furniture to accommodate the 9 of us there would be at the table, and we were pretty much set. Not too shabby. And since the clinic decided that we didn't need to go back until Sunday, we actually had some time on our hands.

So at 1pm with an hour to spare before the fam descended chez nous, DeeDee and I headed out for a desperately needed manicure. Well, desperately needed for me - she came along 'cause Hubs had errands to run and she had never had one, so he sucked it up and decided today was the day for her first mani. Now JBJ if you read this - it broke my heart to actually go for a mani without you when we'd tried to make it work for this weekend but with all the insanity it was impossible to plan anything. We saw a window and went with it - I hope you understand!!! Man, it still feels like cheating. Kisses!

As luck would have it, karma would kick me in the ass for not going with you. I had a butcher as a manicurist who nipped bloody murder on my cuticles, actually drew blood on both hands! Not good. Didn't he see what happened to Paula Abdul? I can't afford another nasty infection in one of my limbs, dammit! Argh. The price you pay for quick and cheap. Let that be a lesson to you all, dear readers. You most certainly get what you pay for.

We arrived home with my tender but pretty digits, and the family arrived shortly thereafter. We had a great dinner - much laughter, a good portion of it at Hubs' expense which I always relish, and some very delish grub. Yummy.

And around comes Sunday morning. Which for us, means getting up at 6am to get ourselves down to the clinic for 7:45 am. Yeah, it's super convenient on a work day 'cause it's in the same building as my office but on a weekend, not so much.

So we make it with plenty of time to spare, I get the blood work taken, and sail off to gown up. Then it's time for the fun - nothing makes a Sunday morning like a vaginal ultrasound! I believe I've described its joys in my last post, and nothing's change since Thursday, that's for sure.

The good news is that the follicles that were once multiple and tiny are actually springing to life. In fact, one is sitting at 1.0 and the other at 1.1 (we're aiming for 2, by the way). Don't ask me the unit of measurement, not that it really matters - what matters is that there's now actually something to measure and that was good news indeed in my books.

Of course now it looks like I'm going to ovulate in Halifax. And since I really do want to have a baby with my husband and not some random east coast hookup, we might be out this cycle. We have, however, been given doctor's orders to romp like champs on Tuesday before I leave and Saturday as soon as I get back. Not sure if it will result in anything, but as they say, the fun is in the tryin!

The rest of today was great - headed down the road to my sister's place, got to see my side of the fam for a bit, had a lovely brunch, DeeDee got spoiled again, and we were home in time for an early dinner and a movie before what will likely be an early night due to our early rise. I'm so tired from all this back and forthing, not to mention the different cocktails of drugs and hormones. What a roller coaster!

Thank goodness I've got tomorrow to stay in, relax, have some me time, and decompress from all this stuff. 'Cause Tuesday it's back for another ultrasound, then off with Hubs for a night at an airport hotel before my stupid early flight to Halifax. Bow chicka bow.

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

Multiple tiny eggs in my two baskets

Today was ultrasound day. No big surprise there - I've been blogging about it for days, and it was finally time to see what was going on with my girlie bits.

Today was also a nasty day in my part of the world (and maybe yours). There was snow on the ground. Snow. It's April 5th. Mother nature screwed up and gave us her version of an April Fool's Day joke four days late. She must be hungover or pissed off at her boyfriend or something like that. There's really no other excuse for this kind of behaviour.

We've all been so patient waiting for spring, and just when we get three (or in my case, four) days off to enjoy all spring has to offer, she goes and fucks us all over. Booooooo... I don't even know when it's supposed to get better. I saw the 7 day forecast, and it was crap from end to end, so I just stopped watching. Sigh.

So this blustery morning I pull out my fuchsia pea coat for a return engagement and wait for my train, limbs all a shiver. I'm sitting, I'm reading, I'm sipping my nasty coffee and my cell phone rings.

Crap. I have a book in one hand, coffee in the other, and my cell is at the bottom of my A&F bag. Of course I miss it, but it's okay - it's just a 1 - 888 number. Telemarketers. Wrong number. You wouldn't believe how many wrong numbers I get on that cell, despite having had the same number for 8 years. But I digress....

A few minutes later the phone rings again. This in and of itself is quite abnormal - my cell rarely rings off its figurative hook, but here we are. A glance at the call display and I see that it's Hubs, so of course I answer.

He proceeds to tell me that the call I missed was from ADT, our alarm company, and that someone's trying to break into our house. They've dispatched the police, and Hubs is on his way home to check things out.

Awesome!!! Just what my poor trembling follicles need - stress! Sheesh. And timing being what it is, my train is just pulling into Union and then I'll be on the subway, so I won't be able to hear what's happened for 15 minutes. And I have to bust my ass to get to my clinic because my appointment is now minutes away.

The trembling continues.

I get to the clinic on time, and miracle of miracles, they call my name a mere minute or two after my arrival. I go for blood work, then have a moment to finally call Hubs back to see what's been pilfered from our new home.

His response? Nothing. All is fine. The cop said he went and looked to see if anyone was even near the entry point that tripped the alarm, and nope, no tracks (ah, the benefits of snow in April). We've surmised that there's a faulty connection in this one spot and they're coming out to fix it tomorrow.

Okay! Relief on one front - now off to have a plastic wand sheathed in a condom and dipped in lube shake hands with Madame Cooch. The bloody doctor didn't even offer to buy me dinner or kiss me on the cheek before we did the deed. Some people...

I'm trying desperately to hear his murmurs to the nurse as he kneads my innards with his magic wand. He measures my endometrial layer, then moves on to the ovaries.

"Multiple tiny right, multiple tiny left". And we're done.

Uh - whut? In the modicum of research I've done, I know that follicles are supposed to have at least some numerical dimension to them for us to get to the next level. I realize that we're only on day 12 of my happy fun cycle, but it don't take no rocket scientist to realize there are no numbers anywhere in the phrase 'multiple tiny'.

So I ask. What does this mean? Why no numbers? His reply - there's lots of potential there, but at this point nothing to measure. It's still too early, but I sure do like the sound of that word, potential.

I have to go back Sunday morning at 7:45 am for the next ultrasound and more blood work to see what's cookin'. So nothing much to report, but so far so good I suppose. At least there's potential.

And maybe it's just me, but I find it quite serendipitous that I'll be heading in for the next round of egg hunting on Easter Sunday. Let's hope the eggs we see that day aren't just ones made of chocolate!

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

Miscellaneous musings

It's been a day. Quite a day. I'm tired and have a headache, so be prepared for this to be a wandering post with little to hold it together. Such fun!

First of all, a recap of what actually transpired last night. Remember the grandiose plan I had to get everything on my list done? Yeah...not so much.

I ended up watching five episodes of Alias, that really happened, and I did get to see American Idol. Hockey? Nope. The beer? Too many carbs too late at night. Bad for the blood sugar. The bath? Nope...got sucked into Alias, then Hubs got home, so that was out. But all in all I will say it was a good evening, so I suppose I have no right to complain whatsoever.

The same can not be said for my day today.

First, crappy weather. It's cold. It's raining. And it's windy. Not a good combination, especially when this diva sacrificed precious sleep minutes this morning to straighten her hair. Yesterday was an unpretty day (you know those days - you look in the mirror and go blech) so I thought I might feel better if I had a more styled do.

It worked. Until the elements conspired against me. Damn you, elements. I shake my fist at you.

So it's rainy, it's dark. I have a really crappy cup of coffee at the GO station and have to run for my train even thought we got there in almost record time. Figures the stinkin train would be early. Sigh.

I get to work, sift through emails, and have to deal with some stupid people. Good times. The rest of the work day is relatively okay, until the headache sunk back in and started flipping my stomach. Not good. I had a hard time concentrating on my computer, and for the rest of you office drones out there, you know that in order to get work done in said office, you kinda need to be able to look at the danged screen.

Finally home time rolls around and I head to the subway. Which has stopped working. Completely. I stand there for 9 minutes and no trains come in either direction (they generally show up every 2-3 minutes in rush hour).

And then it hits me - the one thing I've looked forward to all day, my ass in a seat on the 4:53 pm train - is not going to happen for me.

But there's always the 5:13.

So when it becomes increasingly clear that no trains will arrive, I resurface in search of a cab to get me to Union station. I'm at one of the busier intersections in Toronto, and do you think I could catch a cab to save my life? No such luck.

I finally team up with another stranded GO chick and we search together for a cab. For another 10 minutes. By now, the 4:53 has left the station, and my ass is nowhere near it.

We manage to snag a cab going in the opposite direction, turn a corner and stop. Traffic. Gridlock. I could have walked faster. Hell, in hindsight I should have walked. If only it wasn't cold. And raining. And windy. Grr...

You can probably surmise that I didn't make the 5:13 train either, so I'm stuck waiting for the 5:53. An entire hour after my desired departure. By the time that train leaves, I'd normally already be at home. At this point I've resigned myself to the fact that there's nothing I can do about it, it is what it is, and at least I don't HAVE to be anywhere at a given time.

I call Hubs to let him know what's going on, vent a little, and then stew for a bit when I find out he left a job site about 20 minutes away from my office at 4 pm...half an hour before I usually leave for the day. If we'd actually connected, he could have picked me up and I wouldn't have wasted a token on a trip I never took, and a trip on my 10 ride ticket. Then again, had we done that, the subway would have been just fine and there would have been a 50 car pileup on the 401 and we'd still be sitting there, trying to find a way to pee in a coke bottle or something. Ah, the road not taken.

We finally make it home safe and sound and Hubs has made a fantastic dinner in anticipation of my return. I mean seriously awesome. Oven roasted potatoes and pork tenderloin done in Diana sauce on the bbq - fantastic. A definite highlight of the day.

So all was picking up - until Idol came on.

That fucking Sanjaya is still in the fucking competition. And Gina's gone.

That's it! I've had it with this show! I know I've said it a thousand times, but I feel so bad for the people that have bona fide talent and get tossed off the show because a bunch of losers think it's fun to mess with the system they're not talented enough to be a real part of. Double grrrr....

So there you go. My rants for the day. I'm feeling a bit better now (Hubs has promised me a bit of a massage if I head up to bed shortly) so with that...night!

Gotta rest up for my big ultrasound tomorrow morning. Bring on the fun!

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

What's a mouse to do?

The cat's away. Yep, I'm at home all by myself this evening as Hubs is off getting his geek on with some guys from work. I'm happy for him, don't get me wrong. This is a totally new group of boys for him to play with, and I think it's really important for us to each hang out with friends, both old and new, more than just once in a while. So it's great, as far as I'm concerned.

But what the hell am I supposed to do with myself!?

Hehe - this is just so weird. Usually he's the one at home by himself while I'm staying late at work or having dinner with a friend. And now, here I am. In my pj's, fed and watered...and there are way too many options for how I can fill my evening chez moi!

I could spend some quality time in my large soaker tub with my Philosophy lemon custard bubble bath and a good book

OR

I could spend more time surfing WB and other various internet offerings (not unlike every night)

OR

I could pop open a beer and watch the hockey game. Hubs isn't a huge fan, so we rarely watch hockey in our house. Sad, really. I feel that I've missed out on so much this season...sigh.

OR

I could watch like five episodes of Alias season five which I finally finagled from my sister. Hubs doesn't like this show either, so I try not to subject him to it. Within reason. Come on! It's the final season, and I have to find out what happens to Sidney and the baby!

OR

I could watch crap tv like any other night of the week. Hmmm...sounds boring. The only thing I have any interest in is American Idol, and I like to watch it AFTER the show's taped so I can skip through all the commercials and the Ryan Seacrest babble.

OR

I could find a way to do all of these things. Yeah, that sounds like a pretty decent plan!

In fact, I'm already on the second episode of Alias (and surfing the web) as I type this, and Idol is being stored on my happy PVR hard drive.

So maybe once this is over, I'll go to the kitchen, grab that beer, watch a period of the game and some Idol, then retire to my boudoir for a sudsy romp in da tub. Man, that doesn't sound like a bad way to spend a Tuesday night, all things considered. By the time Hubs gets home around 10:30 or 11, I'll be clean, relaxed, caught up on my crappy telly, and ready for beddy.

Sounds like quite a busy, action packed night for this house mouse! Here's to the cat having fun and leaving mousey me to wile away the hours with tv and booze until his return!

In a nutshell, here's to alone time! Cheers.

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

Uh yeah, that crafty thing?

Wellllll.....not so much.

Okay, so while my abstract art effort is not a total loss, I'm not really sure if I can bring myself to hang it with any sense of pride in our bedroom. Above our bed. I'm worried that it would give off some silly kindergarten vibes and hey - who wants that in the boudoir? Certainly pas moi.

Yeah, it's kinda crappy. But maybe not that bad. I don't know - the further away from it you are, the better it looks. It's when you actually take a moment to, oh I don't know, LOOK at it, you see just how talentless I really am.

I suppose I should be okay with this. I mean, I can't draw for shit, that's for sure, and I can barely stay in the lines for paint by numbers. Maybe it's just fine for me to not have a talent in the visual arts. I'm musical (that whole singing and playing musical instruments thing), I have a fair grasp of the English language and can string an entertaining sentence or two together (the whole blog thing), and I can put colours together well for general home decor purposes.

But from the looks of things, the universe is telling me to stick to a roller when painting - the finer subtleties of smaller brushes are now most painfully obviously well beyond my grasp.

Oh well. I guess we can't all be good at everything. But in the end at least I gave it a go. I got crap, but it's my crap, crafted with mine own two crap making hands. And that's still gotta count for something.

In other assorted news, we had the in laws over for dinner last night. Hubs cooked a roast that looked great to start out with, but via the magic of cooking, wasn't nearly as tender as it should have been. Not his fault at all - sometimes these things just don't work out. I blame the red wine and it's weird properties of separation. The gravy had a strange marbled texture to it, like all the tannins separated right out of the wine to make for a uniquely visual end result. It all tasted good, but it certainly did look quite odd.

I guess Sunday was not a good day for domestic or artistic ventures under our new roof. Good thing we're doing the Easter dinner on Saturday.

Saturday morning was weigh in day, and I am pleased to report that we have officially hit the 30 lbs lost mark. It had gone up and down a bit during that whole Aunt Flo interlude, but now things appear to have leveled off and them blue digital numbers are actually getting smaller again. Oh happy day.

And finally, it would appear, if the on again off again pains in my lower left torso are any indication, that my blessed ovaries may finally be up to something. Never has (suspected) ovulation pain felt so delightfully good! I go for the ultrasound on Thursday morning to see if mother nature and modern medicine got it on last week as we're hoping. Sure would be nice to get some good news in this department!

Anydoodles, this one is all over the map today, but that's about all there is to report. I'm pretty tired this evening and am atwitter in anticipation of bed. Hubs is already there, relaxing with a heated Magic Bag on his lower back. Hopefully it works, and I can make use of that other magic bag in the bed, nudge nudge, wink wink.

Yeah, okay. I agree. That was probably a bit too much even for me. But I still laughed, so in it stays. Nightie night!!

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