Whine tasting

Warning - whining ahead. And if you keep reading, you're most certainly going to get a taste of it.

I love Christmas. I love the shopping, the decorating, the wrapping, the tree-ing, the whole festive lot. BUT...

There is much crappiness afoot during the holidays as well. Even something as simple as a stick of deodourant is almost impossible to pick up five days before Christmas. Stock up on your toiletries in November, otherwise you'll fritter your December away waiting in line to buy the damned Degree.

Not that I totally mind waiting in line. Yes, there are lots of people doing a substantially increased amount of shopping in a condensed period of time. I get that. I'm okay with that. I expect that. But I hate how it turns so many normally decent people into raging thunderwhores.

Rudeness abounds today and every day, but at this time of year when we're all supposed to be in good holiday spirits, why are people so god damned ornery? Seriously, what does it take to say thank you when I hold the door for you? Not bloody much, I suspect. I can do it, and do do it, on a regular basis. Get with the program, kids! Thank you won't kill you! Sheesh.

I got off on quite a good rant there, and that wasn't even the point of my whole post today. I have very specific things I'd like to whine about. Let's get to it, shall we?

My big pet peeve right now is customer service. I won't go off on another in store rant - we've all now been there and done that.

No, my whining today is thanks to the good people at calendars.com that just can't seem to get their freaking act together. And even though I have done everything right - I still lose in the long run.

The backstory - my mom has a french bulldog. She loves this dog. Last year I found, in some fluke planets-aligning type way, a french bulldog calendar for her, which she loved. When it was mentioned in passing a few weeks ago, she said she really hoped that someone had found it for her again this year because she was counting on it and hadn't purchased a 2008 calendar yet as a result.

Coming from one of the universe's most challenging people to buy for, I grabbed the hint and made it my mission to find this calendar for her yet again. I stumbled upon it last year - how hard can it be?

Silly diva.

It's danged near impossible to find a fucking french bulldog calendar in my neck of the woods. Believe me - I looked. Everywhere. And nothing. Now I know that as you're reading this post you may be thinking, "but diva! I saw one of those calendars at x store in x mall just last week!"

Yeah, if that's true, don't tell me, okay? Sometimes ignorance is bliss. This is one of those times.

So. I know that my mom really wants this and I can't find it anywhere. So I go online, look it up and can't find the one I want on calendars.ca. The gods have not favoured me so highly to actually grant me what I'm looking for north of the 49th parallel.

So I surf over to calendars.com and lo and behold, there's what I want. I hmmmed and hawed but finally resolved myself to purchasing it from our southern neighbours because mom wants it that badly. I order on December 11, and because my last day in the office (where I have everything shipped) is December 21, I elect to spend a small fortune, $32.96 to be exact, for expedited shipping.

That's supposed to get it here in two to three business days. I expect it will take a day or two longer at minimum thanks to customs, but I figure that will still be plenty o time to get that flipping calendar into my hot little hands.

Everything starts out okay. Order goes through and is actually shipped on the same day. Fantastic. I look online for a tracking number and can't find one, so I call their customer service.

And thus begins the whining. Why can't customer service people be competent human beings?

Now I realize that is a very sweeping generalization and that there are some fantastic customer service reps out there but come on. This was unreal.

First, the guy can't get me a tracking number. I ask why not? All packages have tracking numbers - that's kinda the point. Nope, we don't assign tracking numbers to packages going to Canada.

Sigh....diva says whut? Why not?

I don't know mam, we just don't.

I feel so much better now.

They can't give me any information at all on the whereabouts of my package. I'm told that it's only been four business days since my package shipped, so wait a bit and call back if it still hasn't arrived. Grrrr.....but okay. I still have time.

Tuesday rolls around. It's been a week and no package. I call back. I can't track my package, but I'm concerned. This is a Christmas present, and guess what - Christmas is coming and I ain't got no stinkin calendar! That, and I paid an extra $32.96 to have shipped here fast.

So he says he'll send me a new one. But there's no way it'll make it to my office by Friday, so we agree to ship it to my house on the off chance that it will get here on Monday, aka Christmas eve, aka just in time for mommy to unwrap it the next day. And this time, they even manage to get me a tracking number after I freaking well beg for one.

I'm waiting for my email confirmation of the items having been shipped and nothing. Nothing all day yesterday. So I go online to get the customer service number - which should be committed to memory by now - to find out what's going on. I look for an order number and hazzah! The items were shipped not long after I had the conversation with the customer service guy. And best of all - there was a tracking number! Woot woot!

So I fly over to the UPS website (don't even get me started on UPS - had I known they did the shipping I would have scrapped the whole thing before I began) as fast as my fingers can get me there. I enter the tracking number, and through the miracles of modern technology I can see the progress my package has made!

Too bad it was shipped to Suburbia, NY and not where I live, Suburbia, ON.

I kid you not. Order number two was a great mystery to UPS, 'cause when I called THEM and asked what happened, they told me there was no Suburbia, NY. No shit. And to make matters even worse, they couldn't figure out why delivery was being attempted in Dallas. And then Louisville, Kentucky. WTF?

I asked Mr. UPS if they could re-route the package to the correct address. He said he could if I was in the US, but because it had to come through customs the package was simply going to be returned to the sender.

In the immortal words of Nancy Kerrigan, 'why me?' I just want the stupid calendar.

Since UPS couldn't help me, I had to call calendars.com back. Again. If only I had frequent caller miles with these guys. I mean really.

I get a lovely lady on the phone who's new to her job (lucky me!) and tells me that it's such a challenge with the border now. Can you believe you need a passport to get into Canada, she says. Here, we can just walk across the border to Mexico. That's where my family goes to get the gold. For their teeth.

I seriously couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

Anyway, I explain my situation. She apologizes, and says that the guy that placed my order didn't change the country to Canada so it defaulted to NY or something like that. Lucky me. So they decide to send it out to me for a third time - and she promises that the address is correct.

I beg her to work hard to get me a tracking number again for this order. I want to be on top of where the package is so I know if I need to stick around the house all day on Christmas eve. I tell her that it's apparently not their policy to give tracking numbers with Canadian packages but to please, please do what she can to get one for me. Please!

Well you'll never guess what....

I've been watching my online account like a hawk and the order finally showed up as shipped...with no tracking number.

I swear, I give up! I've done everything right. I paid a premium for shipping to get it here in time. I've stayed on top of the orders and where they are, when I can. And I've been nice to all the people on the phone 'cause with the exception of the idiot who placed order number two, it's not their fault that their company can't get their stupid act together.

So now I have the joy of calling them for a fifth time tomorrow morning to see if I can get any additional information from them. I get to explain my situation to yet another poor shmo who would rather be doing their Christmas shopping than dealing with my french bulldog calendar.

Which begs the question, who wants to be me!?

I keep hoping upon hope that the first package, the one that has disappeared into the abyss, will magically appear tomorrow before the office closes at 1pm. I'm not holding my breath, but it is Christmas. Maybe this will be my Christmas miracle.

Yeah, right. But a girl can still dream.

Okay, end whine. Hope it didn't leave too bad a taste in your mouth!

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

What a weekend

Methinks in hindsight my doormat is a bit too prophetic.

I picked up this super cute coir mat for the front door at Winners way back in November. It sat in the corner until the appropriate day arrived for its joyful and triumphant installation. That day, December 1 finally came, and now a few short weeks later, I'm reaping what I've sowed.

My cute little doormat? Says Let It Snow in huge letters on it.

Yeah, no shit Sherlock.

That sure was some dumping we got in our part of the world. Funny, we were expecting it so much earlier, but all Saturday night we kept looking out the window and saying, that's it? That's the huge storm?

Yeah, shoulda kept my mouth shut until I dragged my carcass out of bed on Sunday morning. Like the sound of snow and ice pellets whipping at my window pane didn't give things away, one first early morning glance did it for me.

Fortunately we'd gotten our outside-of-the-house weekend activities accomplished on Saturday in anticipation of said storm's arrival. We went to the SprawlMart and picked up a few necessities, went to Hallmark to finally get our Christmas cards, and we even ventured down for lunch and a movie before the weather overtook us.

We had DeeDee with us this weekend which granted us instant street cred to hit the theatre and see Enchanted. I'd been wanting to see this one since I'd first heard about it. As a huge Disney fan, putting this on my must see list was a no brainer for me.

I went in with some rather hefty expectations and am delighted to report that it actually exceeded them in all areas. Great writing, good acting, a bit of animation, catchy songs (How Do You Knooooooooooow? Can't get it out of my flippin head), and some seriously humourous bits made for a very enjoyable watch. I'm very much looking forward to the day this one comes out on DVD and makes its way into my collection. Yippee!

Yes, I get excited about Disney movies. Anyone know when Beauty and the Beast is coming out on DVD? That's another must purchase the very day it hits the shelf...but I digress.

So after a very productive day we returned home and set to work on many a crafty project. Since I can't call to the animals to assist me in such tasks like Giselle can (oh to lean out a window, sing a tune and watch the woodland creatures flock to your aid) I was forced to suck it up and toil on my own.

I put together a photo collage for my mom from my sisters and I, I painted a decorative box to give to my new niece, DeeDee decorated the gingerbread house as assembled by Hubs, Chief Engineer, and then we wrote out and addressed 40 Christmas cards.

By the time midnight came around, I'd put in one hell of a productive day, so I stumbled upstairs for much needed rest.

Sunday we slept in a bit (can I just say how much I love not waking up to an alarm clock? That is seriously good shit) and then I channeled my domestic diva and baked up a storm indoors while Mother Nature did the same all around us. We put the Sirius holiday station on yet again much to Hubs' chagrin (the poor boy can only take so much holiday music until the repetition grates on him), DeeDee sat at the table and did a craft project of her own, and I forged ahead and made four different recipes of Christmas goodies.

Some worked out beautifully, some...not so much. Yeah, macaroons are much better when they're chewy throughout, and not just in the middle. Something tells me they're not supposed to crumble and crack like mine do. Alas, lesson learned. It's been a long time since I've allowed the kitchen diva in me to surface.

Now I'm remembering why.

Not all was lost, though. I made a most fantastic batch of chocolate mint (Hubs' favourite flavour combo) cookies that, in my most humble of opinions, are simply to die for. This will be a repeat performance later this week as we await the arrival of the fam for the holidays.

Yes, this weekend was all about being a test kitchen. Trying out new recipes, seeing what worked, learning to avoid what didn't, and deciding which items to attempt once again and which ones should migrate to the very very back of my recipe cupboard.

I do have one. A recipe cupboard. Hard to believe, but it's true.

Baking pretty much dominated my entire Sunday. Before I knew it it was 5pm and time to think about dinner. Of course after six hours of baking the last thing I wanted to do was more cooking, but I managed. Woe is me. Poor domestic goddess. Slaving away at the stove of injustice.

Yeah, that'll be the day. I think this was the first time in eons that I was actually responsible for crafting an entire meal. I therefore have no room whatsoever to complain. But my feet did hurt after standing all that time. They did!

Last night there was nothing worth watching on television, so we ordered Blizzard on TMN on demand. Riveting. Damned writers strike. I NEED to know what happened after the tornado on Desperate Housewives. And where was my Amazing Race? It's already been flipping filmed - no need for any piddly writers strike to affect my viewing pleasure, yet there I was, Sunday night, cruising aimlessly through my on screen guide, nary a reference to the Race to be seen.

Grrrr....

Which brings us to today. Every second Monday Hubs drives DeeDee back across the universe to school. Which means I have to take the bus to catch my tin can chariot of germs. A diva shudders.

So I bundled up and left my house early, knowing it would take me extra time to reach the bus stopped in our unplowed state of disarray. Missing the bus simply won't do, and despite all the snow I made it with plenty of time to spare. And plenty of time to stand outside and get nice and cold. Goodie for me.

Then the train was 10 minutes late. I finally got inside and it was no warmer in the tin can than it had been outside!!! Well maybe it was a bit warmer, but you know how much I thrive on hyperbole. Regardless, I spent the entire looooong train ride into the downtown core freezing in my nice warm peacoat and super fuzzy boots. Not cool, not cool.

At long last I made it to my office, two hours and 15 minutes after I'd departed my nice warm home. I took off my coat and boots, and sat down in my chair in my freezing cold office.

Today, I'm doomed to be cold.

But today has become tonight, and in an effort to warm up, I will sign off and head upstairs to cuddle with my furnace of a husband. And finally, FINALLY, after a long chilly day, I'll be nice and snuggly warm in the arms of my Hubs.

Now, if only I could stop him from snoring I could be warm AND rested...

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

A taste of my own medicine...

So. I like technology. I enjoy the internet and all it has to offer. I shop online, I planned my wedding online, I have a MySpace and Facebook page, and I live on message boards. Two, actually.

I've been on WB for almost two years now. It's become a sizable part of my life. I've met some great people there - both just virtually due to geography and in person where our locations permit. I talk to these people on a daily basis. I see some of them on a weekly basis. I commiserate with them, get cheered up by them, and get great ideas from them. It's incredible to me just how important me being a part of the WB community has become in these two years.

As such, I spend a considerable amount of time on my cute little iBook. I sit on the couch, turn on the tv, and multitask. I'm a champion of the multitask.

Over time, Hubs has become increasingly disenchanted with my online presence. He was concerned that I was spending more time chatting with other people than actually interacting with him during our time together. I explained to him why my virtual world was important to me - that especially where the infertility issues were concerned, it's a bona fide lifeline. Keeps me sane.

And sane is good.

He understood a bit better...but it didn't really change his great dislike of all things WB related. I told him that I would pull back a bit while at home and would make a more concerted effort to spend quality 'us' time together. Compromise is key, yes?

So. I pulled back a bit. Things were better. And two days later, he was sucked into the void that is World of Warcraft (WoW).

Sigh.

I've lost my husband to his PC.

At least when I was surfing the net, I could do it from the same room as Hubs. We were watching tv, sitting on the same couch, able to have conversations and interact with one another.

His new addiction has him in a completely separate room for hours on end, usually at the other side of his sassy new headset so he can chat with his WoW buddies and play alongside them. It's now 9:40 and he's been on that computer since just after 7pm. I just had to remind him to call DeeDee.

Well, if nothing else I can type this blog entry in peace.

We'll see how long this level of commitment to the game continues. I'm hoping it's one of those things where the novelty will wear off a little bit. That the shine will eventually come off the rose. And that my husband will rejoin me on the couch to watch tv while I hold up my end of the bargain and compress my online time.

Guess you'll be able to tell how that all works out by the length and frequency of my blog posts and WB entries. Wanna take bets?

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

Yes, I'm alive.

But dead tired. The past few days have been insanely busy and I'm not sleeping all that well. Boo-urns for me.

I wanted to drop in quickly to say hello, check in, let you know I still have a pulse, and promise to write more on my latest escapades tomorrow. For now, I must try to get some sleep. After a back rub from Hubs if he's up for it... :)

Oh yeah...if you've sent me a PM recently on WB regarding Dirty Dancing, I tried to answer you but you're set up to not accept private messages. I just wanted you to know that I'm not ignoring you!! Feel free to email me at the address on the right panel of the blog and I'll send you the info you're looking for!!

Okay, that's all the steam I have. Hope everyone is well and preparing for the holidays in true diva style. Me, I just keep buying presents for OTHER people. Very strange. Outside my comfort zone.

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

Third time, she ain't no charm

Howdy y'all.

I'm tired today. My eyes are puffy since I did me a good deal o' cryin'. With all we've been through, I figure I'm about due a sad country song all my own. Guess that's where the twang comes from. The title of my song? Third time, she ain't no charm. It's got number 1 written all over it, ain't it?

Yep, IUI #3 failed. Officially. Nail in the coffin of my last chance to have a baby before I'm 35.

How much fun is it to be around me today?

Sigh...

Actually, I knew it was coming, so it wasn't as bad as it's been in the past when my little friend hope was actually in the picture. I had almost none of it this time which meant I didn't have as far to fall.

Then I got on the phone with my fertility clinic, and thus began what will go down in the annals of history as the shitstorm of December 10.

So. I knew I was taking a break this cycle. I would normally go for the IUI on day 15. Today is day 1. Today is December 10. So add 15 days to December 10 and it's not rocket surgery to determine there will be no IUI on December 25th. Okay, fine.

BUT...I now officially hate my clinic. I'm leaving. I've had enough.

So yes. Taking a break this cycle. My choice. Good. I still wanted to do day 3 monitoring so I could check on my cyst. When the nurse called with my beta result (negative, of course) and to book the appointment she said okay, and we booked.

Then she called back and said she's canceled my appointment because I won't be doing a cycle and since it's not full cycle monitoring, they can't bill OHIP for the bloodwork and ultrasound. I'm supposed to call back on day 1 of my next cycle in January and they'll check for the cyst then, aspirate then if they have to.



The whole point of this being a rest cycle (in my mind anyway) was to get rid of the cyst and let my body rest, cyst free. So my hormones could take a breather, and all should be better so we can move on in January.

Nope. They won't do it.

Then get this. She told me I should relax for the holidays and give my body a rest from all the hormones. That being relaxed will help me get pregnant. That I'm still young and have lots of time. And have I tried anything else? Like acupuncture? That a rest is good and I should investigate and learn about every option available to me.



Condescending much? Now I realize that this may sound like sage advice to those of you reading right now who are not facing/have not faced fertility challenges. But let me assure you - the things she said to me pretty much round out the top five most annoying things you can say to a person experiencing infertility. Take notes. Remember these words. And NEVER utter them to a friend or family member who's having trouble conceiving. You have no idea how much it will be appreciated.

Yes, I lost it. I told her that if they have actually convinced themselves that they're thinking about what's in the patient's best interests, they're sadly mistaken. And you know what she said? Since you've been so unhappy here, maybe you need to look for a new clinic. I know this is convenient because you work in the building, but maybe you need to go somewhere else.



Trouble is - she's so right. It just took me this long to see it.

Why would I stay there when they treat me like crap? And I pay for the fun of it all? I think location be damned...it's time to try somewhere new. I told her I was astounded that she'd actually suggest that, that her supervisors probably wouldn't be too happy to hear her saying such things. I also explained that there are some serious patient satisfaction issues there, and that I'm not the only one who is dissatisfied and considering leaving. I told her that they have a long way to go in improving things, and I wasn't going to be their guinea pig any longer. I've emailed a colleague and asked her for another suggestion. I'm ready to get the hell outta there.

Sigh.

As if having Aunt Flo show up (early) on my doorstep wasn't bad enough. Now I have to deal with another month of uncertainty and no progress.

And have I mentioned this was my last chance to have a baby before I turn 35? One more milestone crossed. Lucky me.

So that was my shit-astic day in a nutshell. The good news is that it's over and done with, and I'm starting to feel a sense of calm about a new beginning. It'll suck to lose the convenience, but it will rock to get some of my emotional stability back.

Hell yeah.

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

No one puts Baby in a corner.

Such a classic line from a classic cinematic gem of the 80's.

Yes, Dirty Dancing will always hold a special place in my heart. It, along with La Bamba, was the first movie we ever rented to be played on our sassy new Betamax VCR. Not a rental - we owned that puppy. In fact, my parents still have it somewhere in their house. Must be worth something these days for the nostalgia buffs...but I digress.

It was the film that made everyone fall in love with Patrick Swaze and long to go on summer vacations to resorts with their parents. You felt the anguish of Jerry Orbach's disappointment when Baby let him down. You felt the flash point chemistry between Patrick and pre-nose-job Jennifer Grey. You learned all the words to Hungry Eyes and She's Like the Wind and tried to dance like the Kellerman's staffers in your parent's basement during sleepovers.

Well okay, maybe that last part was just us, but you get the point.

So why am I talking about this decades (yep, 20 years!!) after the movie was released? Because I went to see the stage production last night (hence no blog post - got home after midnight) and I had the time of my life. Pretty much.

CJ had bought tickets for us to go for my birthday which was a fantastic gift. We picked the date in August and she booked the tickets not knowing that three days after the show, she'd be packing up and moving 200kms away. Excellent timing on her part as it gave us a chance to hang out one last time before she's gone.

Now, I think we can all agree that the show is inherently cheesy. Part of its charm, really. At least it's the good cheese, and not the festering, smells like dirty socks cheese. We can all take comfort in that. So despite everything, I was actually okay with the cheese quotient in last night's performance.

The problem? It's not Patrick Swaze or Jennifer Grey up there. I've seen the movie so many times that it's impossible not to project the screen actors onto their stage counterparts - and only be disappointed when they simply can't measure up. So you really have to let yourself go with this one, enjoy it for what it is, and sit back, relax, and relish a nicely cut boy in tight pants with or without his shirt on. Yum.

The acting was...okay. A bit too much enunciation for my liking, especially for a casual offering. But that's the musical theatre snob in me. The dancing was fantastic, how could it not be, and the singing was actually quite good as well. Canadian Idol Melissa O'Neill had a featured singing role and I was very pleased that my original (positive) impression of her was affirmed when seeing her in person. That girl has some serious pipes! Good on ya!

From a vocal perspective, the real star of the show was the male vocal lead, who also played Johnny's cousin (you know, the guy that she took a watermelon from?). Dag, can that boy sing. Sweet holy shit he's talented. And that's some high praise coming from me 'cause I really rake them over the coals when I go to the theeeaatahhhh.

Best part of the entire show was the ending. And I don't say that in a tongue in cheek kinda way, I sincerely mean it. That dance number at the end, the one that begins right after that famous line in this post's title is uttered, was incredibly well done. The air was electric - seriously! Everyone was chair dancing and trying not to sing along, but failing. Very cool, very cool indeed.

Cue applause, everyone bows, and the music keeps playing. I throw on my coat, clap myself out of the theatre, say a quick but somehow meaningful goodbye and good luck to CJ, then I make a run for the subway so as to ensure I catch my GO train home. Which I did - fret not.

And to complete the streak of good things, I had a wonderful lunch with one of our people today, had not one but TWO Starbucks lattes (yee haw!) and got to finally catch up on Heroes and Private Practice since my flippin week had been so busy. Now I'm shuffling off to bed 'cause I'm tired but wait - I don't have to get up early tomorrow morning!

That's right, I took the day off. I plan on sleeping late, wrapping Christmas presents, watching trashy tv, and hanging out in my pj's until about 6pm. I'm desperate to just get some rest and hopefully get this freakin cold out of my system once and for all.

Sorry to those of you that have to trudge off to work tomorrow - I'm not trying to rub it in or anything. I'll think of you all as you're heading to the office...if I happen to be awake around that time.

Enjoy!!!

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

You'll never believe it...

I'm getting sick again.

Yes, you read that right. I can't freaking believe it. I finally got over the last one, and here I am again, riding the express train to Snotsville. Sucks.

I can't make it a long entry tonight 'cause, well, I have nothing left in the tank. Except snot, that is.

So, to recap the past few days. As you well know, Hubs' Christmas party was this weekend and since I'm sure you were all concerned, I am pleased to tell you that I did manage to solve my wardrobe crisis at 10:30 am on Saturday morning. We left at noon. Phew!

I found a very festive holiday top that hides almost all of my figure flaws (no small feat), paired it with an existing slimming black skirt and some fab black pumps and I was the belle of the ball. Well, not really, but I felt pretty darned good and that's a big thing for me! So yay me.

The two and a half hour drive home turned into four hours thanks to the wrath of Mother Nature. We picked DeeDee up at her Nana's place, then came home to find that my stepbrother and sister in law were in town and stranded temporarily as the windshield wiper motor on their car went. Can't get home in this weather without wipers!

So we put them up chez nous as there was no room in the sisterly inn. It was nice to have them here - they're good folk and I always like showing off the house.

Got up this morning and our town was transformed into a skating rink.

I don't skate.

Hubs was supposed to take DeeDee back to her mom's in time for school, but that was put on hold until the salters and sanders had their wicked way with the icy roads. We tried to leave, but one step out there and I knew I was going to have a tough time making traction. Into the house we returned, made breakfast, and waited it out.

I finally made it to work just before noon and proceeded to get a bunch of stuff done. Managed to stay in touch while I was on the train as always, thanks to my sassy new BlackBerry. I had one before, but it was neither sassy nor new, hence why this one bears mention. She's so pretty. I just love looking at her... Hey, cut me some slack. If I can't have a baby I at least deserve to make ga ga noises about my beloved Crackie.

Got home from work and knew that another bout of this season's finest virus was taking up residence yet again. No rest for the wicked however - I had a project I needed to complete and it took hours. From the time I got home at 6 to 10pm. I am very pleased with the end result, and am downright elated that it's done.

Which brings me to right now. I'm sniffly, I'm sore all over, and I'm just downright exhausted. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to haul my post-nasal-dripping carcass up our stairs and straight into those luscious chocolate brown sheets. Nighty nite all!

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