American Idol - censorship at its best

What crap.

What is this world coming to when a gal can't sing the entire lyrics to All By Myself?

Come on...great song. Opening lyrics to Bridget Jones' Diary, playing in the background when Cher realized that she loved Josh in Clueless, Celine Dion smacks the hell out of it whenever she sings it, and poor little Asia'h attempted it on American Idol tonight.

But someone, whether it was her or the idiots at Fox that censor this kinda stuff, decided she shouldn't sing the words "makin' love was just for fun" and substituted it with "and even though the nights are young".

First off, doesn't even really make sense. And she had this little grin on her face when she sang that line that told me even she thought it was outrageous.

What the fuck (and how I revel in saying fuck in a post that rails against censorship) is up with that? Sure, she's 19 or something but come on, she chose the song, one of the songs that Fox et al offered up for her to sing - why be so idiotic as to change the words like that? Did ya think we wouldn't notice? Do they honestly believe that the viewing audience is solely made up of vapid tweens who've never even heard the song before? Pffffft.

That's what I say to them...pfffft.

All By Myself is a true diva song and one of my all time faves. It's a challenge, no doubt about it, and is all too often butchered by those not quited skilled enough to pull it off. Like our little apostrophed continent gal here tonight. She can sing, sure, but she's sick and the song just kinda swallowed her whole. Not too pretty to watch.

Of course now it will be stuck in my head and poor Hubs will have to listen to me tackle it once or twice before I make my way up to bed. No need for me to suffer on my own, and it is a great song. Originally recorded by a guy, btw. Eric Carmen in 1975.

Man, my brain is tired. After remembering it was Eric Carmen, my brain has, for all intents and purposes, shut down and is now singing All By Myself in an Eric Cartman (a la South Park) voice. And I do a mean Cartman, if I do say so myself.

Poor Hubs. Me belting out the song as me was certainly bad enough. Cartman voice will make him want to pack a bag and find alternate sleeping arrangements for the night. Sigh.

And of course, as soon as I start singing in Cartman voice, I can't stop until I've also reprieved I'm Sailing Away while begging for Cheesie Poofs.

Just when I thought I was ready to head up to bed, suddenly an entire evening's worth of activities have unfurled before me.

Too bad I'm so tired and have to get up at an insanely, ungodly hour tomorrow. Maybe I'll have to do the super speedy version of Sailing that Cartman does. Yeah, that's it. I'm sailllinnnnng awaaaaayyyyy, free to face the liiiiiife that's aheaaaaad of me....

So very tired. Must go bed now.

Oh yeah, uh...and censorship sucks!

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

F you, February.

I'm done with winter. Done. Finito. Bye bye la. Ciao, biznachio.

All this vitriol and I even had a week in the sun. I honestly can't imagine how those of you who haven't had that much needed break have survived. It's enough to make me go all postal or strap on an AK47 and climb up all those stairs to the top of a bell tower.

And you KNOW I don't like climbing stairs.

Sigh...alas, there are but three days remaining in this horrid month (February is the only month of the year that has both the letters F and U in it...coincidence? I think not) and then March, that wildly unpredictable 31 days, greets us with open arms. March is kinda like the cousin you like to party with once in a while...you look forward to their arrival, but once you've spent some time with them, you remember why you don't do it more often and can't wait until they leave.

March has such promise...because it's not February. It's the month that heralds in spring, even if it's more in theory than practice. But most importantly of all, March 1 is everyone's badge of honour, our reward for surviving the hell that is (and most certainly has been this year in particular) February.

I love spring. I know I've waxed poetic about this before, likely last year around this time, but there's just something entirely mood transforming about being able to wear a lighter jacket. Not coming home in complete darkness. The smell of the grass as it struggles to revive itself. I even embrace the ugly hard chunks that remain as the snowbanks gradually melt away, and the salt and sand that's left behind. I'll happily go outside and sweep any excess away to bring my home back to its fairweather glory.

Man. Is it March yet?

Okay, all this endless winter chat is depressing me, and hearing the gale force wind outside doesn't help much. But hey, only three more days to go, right? Danged leap year, prolonging the agony.

Hope the rest of your FU month flies by! And bundle up - it's supposed to be stupid cold again tomorrow. Argh.

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

Chicks rock

Through my life I've been rather fortunate to have made some freakin fantastic friends of the female variety. Moreso from high school and beyond, 'cause let's face it, being the chunky kid is not cool when you're 12. If there's one thing I know to be true, it's that little girls are bitches.

I'm the type of person who loves to meet new people. I've always had a large circle of friends and consider myself very fortunate as a result. When I got married, my gals included great friends from high school, university, and someone I met through work. Friendships come and go, but these gals (and many others) have always been there for me.

Unfortunately, it's not so easy for me to see them these days. One is a super busy teacher who lives downtown. Another lives with her husband and kids in BC, and the third recently moved to Waterloo to start a new job and shack up with her boyfriend.

Enter WB. A delightful well of new people and, thankfully, new friends. Fresh gal pals. People who can relate to me on the infertility front. People who got or are getting married in the not too distant past/future. Hell, people who are none of the above but still incredible women all the same. People who make me laugh til I pee, make me cry my face off, and keep me sane when I think this trying-to-get-pregnant thing is going to take over my life.

Since joining just over two years ago, I've met 28 different gals from all over the place. And just this past weekend, I had 9 of them over at my house for an evening of muchies, girl talk, and Dirty Dancing (the movie, not the activity). Hubs was thrilled.

It's been a while since I've spent an entire evening with just gals, and I'd honestly forgotten just how freakin fun it can be. How everything is a joke, how any word or phrase can be cleverly twisted around to have a sexual connotation, and how laughing at pretty much everything is a darned good way to cure whatever ails you.

It made me remember girls' nights of years gone by with people who've really been there for me, and was an excellent little mental tweak to get me to reach out and see how everyone is, try to plan ways to see them. So I'm glad we're going bowling for wannabefrenchies birthday in two weeks. I'm glad I'll be in BC at the end of April for a conference so I can see Ange again, and I'm glad CJ will be in town, albeit for a short time only, this Thursday so we can catch up on all the new developments in our lives. I'm glad my roommate from first year and her family will be coming to our house for dinner on Saturday. And I'm glad that I have a gazillion email accounts to choose from when sending the quick hello to gals I haven't chatted with in a long time that I WILL get around to very soon.

Now don't get me wrong - girls can be bitches at any age and any stage of life. They can talk about you behind your back, try to move in on your man, do everything possible to one up you in any number of ways. As I get older and my leisure time diminishes I realize just how important it is to spend that time wisely, and to make a conscious decision about who will share that time with you. Banished from my social landscape are the negative nellies who do nothing but bring everyone down. I just don't have time for their bullshit on top of mine, ya know? Okay, so your life is shit - don't drag everyone else along for the ride!

I choose who I want to spend my precious time with, and am I ever glad I literally stumbled upon this incredible group of women who have now become more than faceless personalities on a computer screen...a good number of them have become very close friends. People I now choose to spend my free time with, that rare commodity that it is. Happily.

So call your girlfriends, book a date, and spend some time together. Grab some chick flicks, a few bags of chips and a bottle (or seven) of wine and laugh till you cry. It'll do ya a world of good. Sure worked for me!

Big hello to all my girl friends, old or new. Thanks for just being there, for putting up with me, and for enriching my life.

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

Hola chickas!

Hello my lovelies. Yes, I'm back from Cuba. Been back for two days, and only now can I muster the wee strength necessary to slink onto the blog and say hi.

Trip was good, and I promise promise promise to regale you with witty anecdotes and many a snapshot within the next day or so. But for now, I must take my broken (had session with personal trainer tonight), weary (this whole getting up early in the morning thing is brutal), mentally exhausted (work is crazy - it's like all of last week has been crammed into the past few days), and throbbing (oh the joys of those pesky cysts) body to my incredibly comfortable bed.

Humblest of apologies for the long absence and this all-too-brief teaser post, but I gots to get me some rest.

Besides, Hubs said he'd rub my sore back for me. And no self respecting diva can turn down a backrub offer.

Ciao, chicas. Hasta luego.

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

The end is in sight!

That's right, all my important meetings/events are done and went swimmingly well, I finally dug my summer shoes out of the closet to pack them, and we seem to have come through the other side of this insane weather system. For the next few days, at least.

I find myself supremely relieved and infinitely satisfied in the way the past few days have gone. I'm exhausted, yes, both mentally and physically, but the end is most certainly in sight.

Thank gawd.

I knew this day would come, that I'd make it through and things would go well, but now that I've made it to the other side I simply couldn't be happier. Now all I have to do is prevent myself from getting sick - that's my normal trademark move when I come out of an elongated period of high performance stress.

Let's hope the echinacea does the trick.

In other news, I managed to get home a little early today so Hubs and I ran some of our last minute errands. We hit the Dollarama and bought all sorts of stuff to take to Cuba with us for the resort staff. That's one of the great parts about trips to Cuba - the (predominantly) women who work hard to clean our rooms are so appreciative of what we leave behind that it makes every penny we dropped tonight worth it - and then some. Screw altruism - I get a real kick out of doing something, even something minute, that might help in someone in an equally minute way.

Yeah, I'm in it for the feel good feeling.

That's pretty much it for today. Yes, I never caught a GO train this morning because they were so screwed up and it took Hubs and I three hours to get where I needed to be, but no point in dwelling about that now. The sun came out, our errands are done, I've found my shoes, and there are now a mere three sleeps before we blow this pop stand.

The end is most certainly in sight!

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

Hey writers...it's time.

Get back to work already. You've made your point and yes, you deserve more of the DVD cut.

Can you get back to writing my favourite shows again so I'm not left with the crap that has taken over the airwaves!?

Case in point...The Moment of Truth.

I'd never heard of this show before, and I think my life was a little better then; sweeter, more innocent somehow. I don't know if I'll ever be the same after feasting my eyes on this ridiculous piece of game show drama.

In a nutshell, the show hooks the contestant up to a lie detector test and the host asks 21 questions. If the contestant answers all 21 'truthfully', they win $500,000 or something like that. And the kicker? Their family and friends are all there to watch.

Some questions, as you might imagine, are quite innocuous. Did you ever cheat on a college exam? As an adult, have you ever taken a nude picture of yourself? Then they pull out the big guns.

And you know they're specific to the person sitting in the chair. Have you ever stolen money from a job and blamed someone else for it? Are you still in love with your ex-finance? Have you ever sent a flirtatious text message to a woman other than your wife? Do you blame your father for tearing your family apart? Do you think your mother is overweight?

These don't come out of left field. Some of these questions would be quite harmless to the vast majority of the folks out there, but you can bet your sweet bippy that to the person sitting in the insanely elevated, bright orange, rubberized hot seat that they're deeply personal.

Okay, so that's the show. Who the hell would put themselves through this bullshit? Especially if you have any kind of skeleton in your closet? I mean, this show hunts down your enemies, people you've wronged, people with grudges against you, then brings them front and centre, and gets them to stand there and ask you these seriously challenging questions that make you look like an abject asshole.

Sorry for that insanely long sentence. Please don't ever show up on that game show and accuse me of stringing way too many words together. I'd be crushed.

But seriously. Writers of the world unite and get back to Starbucks with your laptops, would ya? Shonda, I'm talking to you and your crew. Diva needs her some Private Practice and Grey's.

'Cause if I'm forced to watch more of this train wreck - let's face it, I couldn't tear myself away and even got Hubs sucked into the ghetto tv web - I just don't know what will become of me.

And that's the truth.

Or is it? :)

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

Two down, three to go!

Another big day done and it was a successful one too which really makes me happy. Had a great luncheon meeting, checked a bunch of things off my to do list, and am kinda counting the hours until the week is done.

Tomorrow's a big day too. Yes, I have meetings etc, but more importantly I have my first appointment at the new fertility clinic. Yay!

Aaaaannnnnd there's supposed to be a massive storm. Freezing rain, 10-15cms of snow, making travel difficult.

Did I mention I live a good distance away from the clinic? And my appointment is at 9:30 am?

Sigh.

I'm crossing my fingers that there's no issue in the morning and it's just snow, not freezing rain. Snow I can deal with - freezing rain, and there's only so much a simple car can do. Ice wins, cars lose.

At least I know that if the weather forces me to miss my appointment tomorrow I won't be charged a cancellation fee. We need every penny we have right now! Sheesh! Small relief I suppose, but I'll take it. But more than anything, I hope it's not necessary to worry about canceling at all!

In other news, how many of you have been watching the new HBO series In Treatment? Gabriel Byrne stars as a shrink with issues in this entirely dialogue driven drama. So far I've seen about five episodes and I'm intrigued. Each day is him seeing a specific patient, and guess what? There's one couple that were dealing with infertility for five years.

'Cause hey, why shouldn't art imitate life - again!? It's like I can't get away from it, wherever I go!

This has an interesting twist on things though. In the first episode, the couple are fighting because the woman finally got pregnant and now she wants to have an abortion. Five years of trying apparently and now she wants to get rid of it. Amazing. So totally outside my realm of the expected it actually makes it worth watching.

I can't relate at all to her point of view but man does it make for interesting television. Not that I think anyone who's been through infertility actually was involved in writing the script 'cause it was just that one tick off from feeling authentic, but it was still riveting to see it on the small screen. I'm fascinated to see where things go from here.

Makes me glad that I have a number of therapeutic outlets, though. Hubs, my friends, this blog, WB...people I can vent to at any time on any topic. At least we don't have to deal with non-realistic scripts - the way real life itself plays out is already too chock full of twists and turns for me to believe anyway!

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

One down, four to go

No, I'm not doing the countdown until our trip...yet. That's a whole other time line in my brain right now.

At this very moment, I'm all about getting through this work week alive.

I truly think this will be one of the busiest weeks of my professional life. Major meetings every day - the kind that actually matter in the grand scheme of things, and not just the time suckers where you sit there and write out your shopping list or practice your signature over and over and over again.

Nope, this is the big time. The time for me to shine, for me to be centre stage, for me to be 'on' the entire time.

And I've got to admit, it's kinda cool.

I actually don't mind being busy. I believe there's a sweet spot of busy-ness...that happy zone where you're well occupied and the day flies by. Not too far into idle nor into uber stress, but in that wonderful 'oh wow, it's 4pm already?' state of being. That's kinda what my week will be like.

My work week, that is. At night I have so many things to do to prepare for our trip that I'm already tired just thinking about it. And that's with getting lots accomplished this weekend! Le sigh.

I'll be heading to bed very shortly as I didn't sleep well last night. Sucks too, 'cause I certainly should have. There were fresh clean sheets on the bed (pure heaven) and I was exhausted from getting home late from a Superbowl party. Too bad I still had to fold all my summer laundry for packing and get my lunch ready and pick out clothes for the next day and change purses...yeah, a lot to do before my head was finally able to hit the pillow.

Of course the minute Hubs' head touched down on the down he was out for the count. Snoring away as only he can. So infuriating. I'm the tired one and I'm relegated to kicking him every few seconds in the hopes of getting him to stop! No peace. None.

Sure enough the alarm goes off in what feels like the blink of an eye and here we are at Monday all over again.

Oh well...just thinking that NEXT Monday there will be no alarm and no GO train trip made getting out of bed that much easier. :)

Let's hope the week flies by for all of us!

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