I take it back...

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I said I was going to write tonight about what not to say to your infertile friend.

I will write the piece, oh yes, I will, just not tonight.

I'm gathering some stories from my fellow "I can't believe I used birth control for all those years just to end up like this" gals and will be using them to fully round out whatever I write. So if you're one of them and you've responded to my requests, thanks so much! I hope to do you some kind of service with whatever it is you've provided me.

And I promise to make the writing better than the abomination that was my last sentence.

Blech.

Other than that, it's been a pretty quiet day/week. I'm stoked as all hell for the weekend to get here, mostly because it's actually supposed to be spring like. How sad is it that I'm actually looking forward to getting outside and picking up those random pieces of garbage or errant recycling that's been buried in the massive banks of snow all these long months?

Yes, I, your diva, am eagerly anticipating the weekend's garbage picking.

What has become of me?

Oh well, at least I keep getting comments on my beautiful new pink bag. That helps keep me balanced.

In other news, I'm going to have lunch with the Minister of Health tomorrow. Well, we'll be in the same room, and lunch will be served...that's close enough, right? Double dog dare me to rub that balding head of his? He's surprisingly diminutive, our fearless man with the health money.

And I hope to get to the gym tomorrow. Oh yeah, big day in diva-land this Thursday.

Before I jet to bed, I want to wish the best of luck to two of my gal pals who will be getting important news tomorrow. Hope all goes well!

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