A very delightful diva find

Enough about woes and kitty guilt and all that stuff. Tonight, I blog about the lighter, fluffier side of my life. That whole diva thing that got me going on this in the first place.

I figure we're all due for something a bit lighthearted and hella helpful.

Buckle your seat belts - here we go!!!

So.

I've spoken at length in many a post about my love of nail polish and the almighty manicure. My nails are always - always - polished. They may not be forever chip free, but if there's one thing you can count on in this crazy world, it's that I'll have a coloured laquer of some kind on my fingernails.

My addiction to the mani started almost seven years ago when JBJ and I would go for our gal bonding pampering every three weeks or so. The now defunct Spa Baby was an Essie salon, so I became an Essie snob. I bought bottle after bottle after bottle and made sure that my polish was refreshed between professional trips.

It was years before I allowed myself to branch out and experience the wonderful world of OPI. Having tried numerous shades of each I'm not convinced that one is better than the other, but I am enjoying the expansion of my options. I've pawed my way through the Australian and Russian collections, and even wore a nice pink from the Vegas collection on my wedding day. A number of the beauties in the Hollywood collection were even on my Christmas wish list. How lucky was I to get them all? :)

Recently I had noticed a very cute new Essie pink, so I dragged Hubs into our local Trade Secrets to take a peek and hopefully bring home a new colour to add to my collection.

I didn't score what I was looking for, but far be it from me to leave empty handed.

I picked out a few cute colours, but my best find was of the top coat variety. And now I feel it is my duty to share my find with you, loyal reader, so you may procure said product and revel in its wonderfulness.

Backstory - my fab sister in law also was kind enough to get me a top coat and base coat back when I mentioned I was in need. Base coat is still going strong, but it would appear that I did not properly secure the lid on the top coat and as such, much escaped into my makeup bag during our last trip to Cuba. Grrr.

Since then, it's never been quite the same. It's gotten thicker and stringier - it was, sadly, time to say goodbye and bring in a replacement.

As I scanned the shelves for new options, my eye stumbled upon what I now consider to be the holy grail of quick drying top coats....RapiDry Top Coat.

Here's a visual to help you once you've
put on your coat and made a run for the mall...

Amazing that a tiny frosted bottle could house such a miracle of modern nail technology.

Sigh. Having done my nails tonight with this product for the very first time, I can now categorically and without hesitation report that I, your diva, <3 this product.

It goes on super smooth and, as promised, dries super quick.

One of my biggest beefs is that by the time I actually get around to doing my nails at home, it's around 8 or 9 o'clock at night.

Not a problem in and of itself, but with a base coat, two coats of polish and the top coat, that's a lot of polish to fully dry! More often than not, I'd awake the next morning with a subtle grid pattern embedded into my once beautifully cured nails. Gar. So frustrating.

Methinks this time, yes this time, it might be different.

I applied this magic coating to my nails and as promised by the package enclosure, within five minutes, my nails were dry.

DRY!

Really and truly dry.

What a wonderful world we live in that has products like this available to the busy diva in all of us.

So nail gals unite. If you polish at home and always fret about your post-polish movements, I strongly suggest you take a trip to wherever OPI is sold and get yourself some of this good, good stuff. It's not cheap - $14.95 a bottle - but in my mind, it's worth every hard earned penny.

I'll be back to let you know how it holds up over time.

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

And then there was one more

Well, our status as a one cat household was shortlived.

Poor Maxx. He wasn't adjusting well to being by himself. He was clingy, vocal, never leaving our sides, waking us up insanely early in the morning. So yesterday afternoon we bit the proverbial bullet and sourced out a new buddy to keep him company. Keep him young.

I took a half vacation day yesterday. I just felt very meh about all of this and still hadn't quite recovered from the ordeal of the weekend. Losing Baylee still didn't feel real. Not sure it's sunk in even now....still expect to see him bounce onto our bed, walk sideways into my legs, pop his head into our bedroom in the morning.

The more time we spent with Maxx, the more we realized he did need a furry friend. We called our local PetSmart and sure enough, they had four kittens from a rescue agency available for adoption.

We hopped in the car with our carrier...just in case. I have always said that pets pick you - you don't pick your pet. I wasn't sure if any of the four would speak to us, but did want to check it out just in case.

You can pretty much guess what happened next.

Two of the four were cute, but didn't fit the bill. One was super cute, all fuzzy-like, and I thought he was it, but as soon as we picked him up he flew out of our hands, not wanting to be held. We needs us a cuddly cat, so he wasn't it either.

That left one more. One little guy sleeping at the back of the cage.

I wasn't that impressed - he just kinda slept there. But as soon as the cage was opened he sprang to life and started mewing like crazy. Hubs picked him up and he nuzzled right in. I knew he was the one when he started licking Hubs' hands...our next cat had chosen us.

Maxx isn't sure yet. He's pretty set in his ways and is used to life as he likes it, with animals he's used to. But we'll get there. The little guy won't back down which is good, and doesn't cower like crazy when he gets hissed at. Which is often.

I feel somewhat weird about the whole thing though. Part of me feels like I'm betraying Baylee for getting a new little guy mere days after we lost him. Like we couldn't wait to replace him. Like we don't even mourn his loss, that we can just go out and pick up a new one and move on.

Then I remind myself that a huge part of us moving so soon was to get Maxx back to a good place - once we go through the transition phase, that is. And I try to be okay with it and just love our new little furry friend.

And just because he's so darned cute, here are a few pics of our new guy. Introducing Loki, aptly named after the god of mischief:

Curious on the kitchen counter


So tiny he has to step INTO the food bowl


A close up when he finally stopped moving


And to show you just how small he was, here's some perspective. He's so wee!!!

So there you have it. A new addition to the diva household. He sure does have the right attitude. He loves to run around, cause trouble, and sleep purely on soft fabrics. A kitty after my own heart.

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

The end of an era

What a week it's been.

So, we went ahead with the whole garage sale thing after all. Spent pretty much every night last week poking through the house pulling out all the crap that we no longer wanted or needed. It's incredible just how long all of that takes, so that would explain my absence from here for a while. We made the decision Wednesday morning, then it was off to the races.

In purging through things I decided to attack the pursery. Yes, it was time to let go of a good number of bags that had piled up over time and deserved to be loved. I think I mentioned this in my last post....it all overlaps now...

So Wednesday night was looking, cleaning and sorting stuff out. Thursday night we went to my sister's place to watch her (sleeping) kids while they went to see a movie. Since we were having the sale at her place, we looked at it as the perfect opportunity to take a bunch of crap over there and price it since we weren't at home.

We did great! Priced it all, got all the purses up on Facebook for the pre-garage sale sale, and were able to sit back and watch the two hour season finale of Grey's. Then it was home to bed, just so we could do it all over again.

Friday morning was uneventful, then in the afternoon I had to go for yet another fertility related test. This one involves a catheter and some saline to see how my tubes and uterine cavity look.

Hells yeah, we know how to have good times on a Friday afternoon.

The whole thing went reasonably well and took very little time. My tubes are nice and open (yay me) and all looked good from that perspective. Back to work I went.

A few hours later, I was in agony. Yep, cramping like crazy! I hoofed it out of work, caught an early train, popped some Advil and went to bed for an hour. Heaven.

The remainder of the evening saw Hubs, DeeDee and I tackling the garage and spare room closet (the repository for all sorts of junk). I wasn't able to lift anything so it took a bit more time than we'd hoped, but we did manage to get the final pieces together and assembled in the living room.

By midnight, we tumbled into bed, alarm set for 6:20a.m. Blech.

Around 6:10a.m., I awoke to a clatter. Sounded like the cats were running around or playing in the laundry room or something like that. It was short lived, but it did wake me up. Figuring it was simply the cats at play, I enjoyed my last ten minutes in bed before the alarm went off.

That ten minutes passed disgustingly quickly, then I was up and in the shower. Hubs left to go and give Maxx his shot and put the food back down for the boys.

He came back a few moments later with a very serious look on his face.

He'd found our cat Baylee dead on the laundry room floor.

I'm still in shock. It happened Saturday morning and I still can't believe it's true...he was with me for 11 years and was a huge part of the family. And now poof - he's gone.

I have no idea what happened. I don't know if that commotion I heard was him falling and breaking his little orange neck or what. Maybe his heart just gave out. I have no clue. And it haunts me, especially since I heard the noise and did nothing. :(

We had to go to the garage sale. A friend of mine was joining us, and since she and my sister didn't know each other at all, I felt I needed to be there. I was numb, in complete shock, and having something to do actually helped get my mind off of the tragedy at home.

Hubs took care of everything. I just couldn't do it. He was amazing...I can't imagine how much worse it would have been without him.

Now whenever I'm home I expect to see him everywhere. Friday night as I was going through all of our stuff I pulled out a picture of him with Pekoe, the little guy we had to put down a few weeks ago. Now they're both gone...

Poor Maxx, the last (and oldest - weird) of the three, is looking for him, too. When Hubs got home to take Baylee to the vet (they didn't open until 9) Maxx was sitting in front of the closed laundry room door. Hubs picked up Baylee and let Maxx see him...he rubbed his head against him, almost like he was saying goodbye. Ugh. Breaks my heart just thinking about it.

It's been three full days and I am still in denial. It hits me every once in a while, then I forget. Then I feel bad for forgetting. I walk through the house and find little tufts of his orange fur on our beige carpet. I've tucked some of it behind the picture of him and Pekoe that I don't have the strength to put out yet. Just to hold on to a piece of him before every last trace of him is gone from our home.

Kinda creepy? Sure. Sentimental? Hells yeah. I never got to say goodbye...this is all I have.

So yes, this past week has been the end of a number of eras. On the silly side, it's the first time I've gotten rid of one purse (let alone the 33 that I sold) in...uh, forever. But on a much more serious side, we're back to being a one cat home. Maxx is all by his lonesome. And that makes me even more sad than I thought I could be.

I decided to get Maxx a buddy six months into having him since I was away at school all the time and he needed some companionship. That was Baylee, and he was an awesome buddy for Maxx and little furbaby to me. For eleven years. And now, here he is, alone again.

It's pretty quiet around here. It's strange. I don't like it.

I really miss him.

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

To yard sale or not to yard sale...

...that, apparently, is the question.

I have a lot of crap. Well, crap is a relative term, but in the grand scheme of things, I have a lot of stuff in my house that is now crap to me. Stuff that's just taking up space. That I never use. That has sat in a blue Rubbermaid tote in my basement since the day we moved in, and that I haven't even given a second thought to since.

Crap.

I have picture frames and candlestick holders and vases and all sorts of miscellaneous clutter makers that I have, over time, phased out of rotation. Where once they had a place of pride on a dresser/shelf/entertainment unit, they now are completely out of sight, but not quite out of mind.

I'm no minimalist (by any stretch of the imagination) but I'm getting a bit consumed by the increasing clutter that's taking over my home. It's insidious....kinda like one of the many signs of the apocalypse. Forget locusts...I know Armageddon is upon us when there's no room on any surface in our living room for a cute new find from my local Homesense.

Something has gotta give.

It's so bad, I'm even ready to part with a good number of my purses.

Deep breaths, my lovelies. Fetch a paper bag, that will stop the hyperventilating.

Yes, what you read is true. I am finally ready to prune the purse tree and decrease the population of the pursery. Open season has been declared on my extensive collection of handbags. And I'm surprisingly okay with it.

We have so much stuff that we just don't use/need anymore. Sure, we have an unfinished basement to store it all in, but just knowing that it's full of STUFF haunts me. It's that little niggling thought in the back of the brain, the one that just won't let go.

But the detritus of my life has sung its last siren song. I no longer feel compelled to keep the funky table display photo album (that never was filled with photos) or the wire cat candle holder I procured years ago when said things were kinda cool.

Yes, that time did exist, thank you very much.

But those times have indeed gone, and I find myself filled with a rapt wonder at what my house (and therefore life) would be like if all of these dusty remnants of times gone by were to finally leave the nest. Be gone. Sent off into their next lives with someone who can truly appreciate their wire cat wonder-ed-ness.

Here's the kicker.

I don't come from a long line of yard/garage sale folk. The entire scene is somewhat foreign to me. I know not how to advertise, choose a date/start time/end time. I don't know how much stuff we could truly fit into our wee single car driveway (ah, the curses of new subdivisions).

But more importantly...I don't know if garage sales are 'done' in my neighbourhood.

I don't think I've seen one in action in our little subdivision in the entire time we've lived there. Then again, I haven't really been looking for them, but they sure haven't jumped out either.

I wonder what our neighbours would think of us if we were the first to break into garage sale territory. Would others follow, delighted in the fact that someone else broke the community cherry? Or do we risk an ole fashioned shunning for hocking our crap for all the world to see right there in the heart of their suburban bliss?

Strikes fear in my heart.

I considered asking my neighbours if they might be interested in doing one on the same day. Would increase traffic, and there would be safety in numbers. And yet....these are my next door neighbours. If they're not up for it when I suggest it, we'll always have that undercurrent...the 'ew, she wanted to have a garage sale. Yes, a GARAGE sale. Can you believe it?' vibe that can't easily be cleansed from our relationship.

Out, damn spot. Out, I say.

Maybe I'm over thinking this (huh - really?). Maybe I just need to do a bit more research, check my paper for other listings, that kinda stuff. And I'm sure there's a Garage Sales for Dummies book that I could get from Chapters - they have those for everything now a days.

And hey - if we actually do go ahead with it, I could always suck the knowledge out of the book, then turn around and sell it to some other neighbourhood shmoe who's about to embark on the same crazy journey. Sounds good to me!

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

Long weekend bliss

I tell ya, after all the pre-birthday running around, that goodness we're sliding into a long weekend.

Yes, I spent most of my night in pursuit of slippers. Fucking slippers. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find decent looking slippers in May? Dang near impossible!

Doesn't help that the place I vaguely referenced in yesterday's post closed at 7 tonight. Stupid me pulled into the parking lot at 7:17.

Foiled again.

So I caved, went to Best Buy and got him a freaking gift card. I figure that, the games, the dvd's, the belt and the freakin slippers I finally managed to procure at my neighbourhood Globo should do the trick. Even managed to pop into Dollarama for some gift bags and wrap. Yep, the diva loves her Dollarama finds, and I simply refuse to pay more for gift bags and tissue, for pete's sake. So that's all done.

Now I just have to wrap everything and determine how to give it to him tomorrow. The fun part!

Since it's a long weekend, I finish work at noon tomorrow. Very exciting! Hubs decided he needed a five day weekend so he took Thursday and Friday off as well. My man's quite the workhorse - today alone he got the laundry done, cut the grass and weeded both laws as well.

Sidebar - are you infested with dandelions too? Sweet holy crap, they're everywhere!! What a mess! A veritable sea of yellow. And of course, they've all popped their heads so it actually looks like it's snowing here, there's so much in the air. But I digress..

After the birthday festivities, we have nothing on our plates. Nothing. SFA - sweet fuck all. Waaaa hooo!

I want to sleep in and go to the gym and continue the work on our lawn and clean the windows and put away the winter clothes and pull out and wash my summer ones and sleep in...

Hang on. That doesn't sound much like nothing, does it? Oh well, I suppose in the grand scheme of things we have no specific place we have to be at any specific time, and if nothing on the above list gets done no one gets hurt...so it isn't all bad.

Now to just get through my half day tomorrow so the aforementioned long weekend bliss can begin in earnest!

Hope you all have a fantastic long weekend whatever you're doing. And celtic_kitten, hope you have an absolutely incredible Alaskan cruise!!!!!

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

The quest for the elusive perfect gift...

So yes, apologies for my absence. No real excuse, truthfully. Just tired. Woefully tired. As soon as American Idol is done these days, I'm ready for beddy. Sigh.

Tonight is really no exception, but since I've been egged on to post by a bored, blonde ex-pat living in Aussieland, here we go!

Friday is Hubs' birthday. Yay Hubs! Disaster for me.

He's unbelievably hard to buy for. Not to mention that we're at that crucial point in our relationship where we've had enough birthdays, anniversaries, Christmases, and Valentine's Days to have made our way throughout the standard gift roster. In the past I've given him box sets, die cast cars, a beautiful pen and pencil set, a wallet, photo books, calendars, Porsche books, video games, clothes...hell, I've even given him a new tank to put his freakin snake in!

And now I'm back at square one with nary an idea of what to do for him.

You see, I like my birthday gifts to be meaningful. Something I know the other person is going to really like if not love (and yes, stop snickering, snake tank was actually on that list - really). I am hooked on that high that comes from securing the perfect gift. Yet here I am, two days away from his birthday, and I'm still lookin to score.

When I asked him many weeks ago what he wanted, here's what I got:

a belt (black or brown, I need both)

slippers

Toca 2 for XBOX

Goodfellas and Shaun of the Dead on DVD

Seriously, that was his entire list. Oh, he wants Best Buy gift cards too so he can buy his Bose Companion 3 speakers for his computer.

A wild man, my husband.

I ask you, how does one find anything meaningful in any of those suggestions? Yeesh.

So while on my quest for the elusive meaningful present, I start to pick up the smaller pieces to have them on hand just in case. I find him a great leather belt that's actually reversable - black on one side, brown on the other. And better yet - it's not one of those tacky reversable belts either! Seriously! The non-tacky versions do exist out there, and in two days, Hubs will have one of his very own.

I went to the Eaton's Centre today during my lunch hour and picked up the DVD's he wanted. I got him an extra one too, just 'cause their sales are absolutely insane. I got 7 DVD's for $42. And that included tax. Well done, HMV. Well done.

I also managed to score a used version of Toca 2 since they don't make new ones anymore (sigh) for $5 at the EB Games. And not to be outdone, I also grabbed Toca 3 for his gaming pleasure. I figure the more games he has (and actually likes to play) the less he'll razz me for being on my computer. :)

A diva can dream.

I'm still on the hunt for good slippers though. He loves his slippers, my man. Jealous, girls? I know you are. Back off.

He does need a new pair though, 'cause his last ones pretty much disintegrated. He got so sick of them he threw them out. Which means he's pretty confident he's getting some from me. Awesome.

If you haven't gone male slipper shopping lately, I suggest you give it a whirl, just for shits and giggles, so you can better comprehend my pain. No one makes a decent, manly slipper anymore! I tried the SprawlMart - nope. Joe Fresh let me down... I'm running out of time here, people!

Oooh...I have an idea. There's a neat outlet place near here that has a wall of slippers. Now if I could only find an excuse for needing the car and slipping away tomorrow night. Must ponder that some more.

I had all sorts of other ideas, but they went over like the proverbial lead balloon. I thought I'd finally hit pay dirt when I saw that Chris Rock was playing Casino Rama in July. We both love and quote on a regular basis Bigger and Blacker, so I was SURE this would be a hit.

BUT...knowing how he'd waffled on so many other things, I decided to suck it up and ask him about it before I went out and committed those tickets to plastic. Good thing, 'cause he meh'ed right over Chris Rock! Shock of shocks! What has become of my husband?

The other challenge of course is that I don't have a wack of cash to spend, as much as I'd like to have anyway. If I had my way, I'd buy him the big screen tv he so desperately wants or a digital SLR camera. But alas, 'tis not in the cards this year. Unless, of course, we win that $25 million on Friday...then all bets are off.

What are some of the pressies you've bought your beloved in the past? Methinks this birthday is a write off in the meaningful department, but our second wedding anniversary is less than two months away, and all this turmoil will begin anew! I'd love to hear your suggestions!!!!

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

The day after

Well, I survived.

Barely.

I got through Mother's Day, somewhat unscathed.

But for once in my life, I was pretty happy to see Monday roll around. Wacked, I know, but there it is.

Had a pretty good weekend though. Went down to Waterloo to see my sister and CJ, and it was great to get caught up with everyone. We went to some garage sales, the farmer's market, the Jones New York outlet (where I procured a lovely new pair of pink linen pants - an early birthday present from my sister), and the local Sobey's. Then we hooked up with CJ and her bf to see their pad and do a drive by of their new home. Very exciting!!

We then all congregated back at my sister's home for a superbly yummy bbq - great way to top off a fantastic day. Beautiful weather, great food, awesome friends and family, and a Bacardi Breezer or two. We even brought out a cake for Hubs' birthday (coming up this Friday). All was right with the world.

Sunday morning we got up relatively early so we could hit the road and make it to our local Mandarin in time for our 11:30 am reservation.

Mother's Day had officially arrived.

I steeled myself for the onslaught to come. I called my own mom who wasn't there at the time so I left her a message. I'd sent flowers and a card earlier.

I finished writing the message in my mother in law's card, so as to be ready for presentation during our buffet feasting.

I put my game face on as we walked through the hordes of smiling families, kids in their Mandarin Sunday best, moms everywhere with flowers and cards and gift bags. I even managed to hold it together despite the fact that directly in my line of sight was a family of six...mom, dad, and four daughters, one still in her car seat. She was adorable. She was facing me. She was heartbreaking.

The straw before the straw that broke the camel's back came with the bill. The waiter arrived with said bill and a handful of flowers, which he started dishing out to the mothers.

Ugh.

He thrusts one at me and instantly, everyone at the table goes into semi-shocked mode. I keep saying no, but they encourage me to take one. Hubs tells me later he was paralyzed and had no idea what to do. I took the flower, and gave it to DeeDee later on.

And off we went.

We dropped DeeDee off (Sludge was working until 2 and though it was our weekend we all agreed that she should be with her mom as much as she could be on Mother's Day) and headed home...frenetic weekend over, the relief of retreating to my cave and feeling sorry for myself in private almost palpable in our wee Kia.

I was happy to be home.

And I'm extra happy to the thought of wearing my pink linen pants to work later this week. Whatever shall I pair them with?

Hope everyone had a great weekend!

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

The peaks of humiliation

I hate buying bras.

Yep, hate it. Despise. Loathe.

First off, to borrow a Julia Roberts-ism, it takes a village to raise this cleavage. Therefore any bra I wear must lift and separate, thus attempting to defy the laws of gravity.

And of all the laws in the universe to fight, gravity ain't the first one I'd naturally pick.

But it was time...it really was. Time to venture out into the harsh flourescent lighting of my local clothing store and peruse the shockingly unattractive over the shoulder boulder holders available in my size.

Which meant I could try on three.

Lovely.

And of course, I face yet another challenge in this entire process - I detest underwire. It hurts. It's just cruel and unusual punishment to me, and as such I avoid it like the flipping plague.

I do own more than a few underwire bras, but they see the light of day so very infrequently, ones I purchased eight years ago still have their tags on.

Yikes.

I have my token black underwire bra that I use on those rare occasions when I need a more uplifting look. Specific shirts or blouses simply don't look right if the girls aren't in their allotted spaces.

You know what I mean....I know you do.

The rest of the time I alternate between a few white stretchy numbers that, due to frequent washing and pretty much every day wear, cause my nipples to spend more time pointing towards my naval than the bright blue sky.

And that just ain't right. Enough is enough.

Fortunately for me they were having a buy one, get one 40% off sale, so I kinda scored there. Especially since I managed to find TWO newbies. Now I can finally say goodbye to my old faithfuls. They could tell some stories, I tell you what.

Of course Hubs joined me in the changeroom to give me his unbiased opinion. Such a sweet guy...never misses a chance to tell me how beautiful he thinks I am. Or to cop a cheap feel.

So yeah, that was the highlight of my day, really. Got a lot done at work today which was great, picked up a few small necessities after work, then headed home. I've got to pack tonight as we're going to see my sister and my friend in Waterloo tomorrow - waahoo! We'll be there until Sunday morning, at which point we'll hurry back to meet up with Hubs' family for Mother's Day.

Mother's Day - now there's a topic that's worthy of its very own post. I think I'll leave that one for Monday to let you know how/if I managed to pull through.

For now I really must get moving. Must pack and all that. Not that I'm overly tired however, considering I fell asleep at 7:30 last night.

Yep, you read that right. Fell asleep on the couch after dinner. Hubs woke me at 9, we went upstairs and watched American Idol in bed, then we both fell right off to sleep again. Well, it took me a little longer than him. He fucking snores like no one I've ever heard before.

But I digress...

If nothing else, I'm looking forward to putting on one of my virgin bras tomorrow and greeting the world as the new, perkier me. Happy that it'll be a long while before I have to endure this entire bra buying purchase again. Much to Hubs' chagrin.

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

Perspective is everything

Everyone needs a good coping strategy.

When the shit hits the fan, some people bury their heads in the sand and just avoid avoid avoid.

Others lash out at whoever is closest - burn bright, but burn out fast.

And some internalize everything, every little piece, until they build and build and build and the slightest thing knocks down the entire precarious pile.

Me? I can be a combination of all three, despite my best intentions. I try not to avoid - I'd much rather deal with things and be able to move on. I sometimes burn bright, then feel badly for anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves in my scorching radius. And at times I do let things build, but more often than not I'm able to scatter the pieces so they never actually tumble down.

In my almost 35 years on this planet, I've evolved in how I deal with things. I went through a very angry, sense-of-entitlement phase. I like to think that I've moved through that and am in a much better place.

But I'm the first to admit, some days are better than others.

With all of the insanity that has rolled into my life in the past little while, I've decided that neither avoidance, flashes of temper nor tumbling bricks fit the bill anymore. Instead, I've simply turned to perspective.

Allow me to explain.

No matter how bad your life gets, someone else has it worse.

That's what I mean by perspective.

Seems kinda strange that I can feel better by simply thinking about other people who are going through even worse crap than I am, but I choose, yes actively choose, to see the positives in even the nastiest times of my life.

'Cause let's face it - it could always, always, always be worse.

Some days are harder than others. Some days I get sucked into my own void and it takes every kernel of strength and positive energy I may have buried deep inside to pull myself out of the funk du jour.

But strange as it sounds, I take 'comfort' in the knowledge that someone else has it worse.

Every time I get distraught/angry/frustrated/depressed/insert appropriate emotion here about our fertility challenges, for example, I remind myself of the fact that I have a wonderful husband, a fantastic job, and a great home. Then I remember how I used to be when I was single...how alone I felt, how desperately sad, how badly I craved someone to share my life with.

And so when the going gets tough, I tell myself that there are people out there, lots and lots of them, that read my blog or are in my life and think, 'oh yeah? You can't get pregnant? Well at least you have someone to share your life with. I still haven't found that person.'

And strangely enough, it helps. Focusing on the good in my life really does make me feel better, as challenging as it may be in the moment.

What I try to stay away from is the flip side of this coin - if someone else has it worse than me, I may very well be someone else's worse. Ya know? All those pregnant women who are dealing with morning sickness or cankles...maybe they look at me and think, 'geez...I've got nothing to complain about...at least I CAN get pregnant and WILL have a baby.'

Yin meets yang. Balance in the universe. And all things unfold as they should.

It's been a rough few days. Hubs and I have had some very serious talks about where we're going on this whole fertility journey and it's been hard. We're eeking ever closer to this whole IVF thing and it's really starting to hit us both...it's real. It's going to happen. And I want to puke.

But every time I need strength, I remember this too shall pass. This is not the end of the world. I remember where I work - a cancer hospital - and am grateful for all of the good things in my/our lives. And somehow, I get through.

This is not at all the post I was going to write tonight, but I think I needed to be reminded of my own perspective philosophy given the past few days. And strangely enough, that reminder came via a post on an internet forum that I happened to click on.

It was a post about another blog, one I'd never heard of. There was a bit of a disclaimer...lychee, forgive me for quoting you, but you said it perfectly:

Don't read this blog if you want to read only about happy, sunny things. Its a blog about life and death, endless happiness and bottomless sorrow. Its going to make you cry, but it will also touch your heart.

I paused. Did I really want to read about bottomless sorrow when I was pretty deep down myself? Endless happiness? Hells yeah! Sorrow I've had enough of.

But I clicked anyway. Maybe it was because I needed my daily dose of perspective. And boy, did I get it in spades.

So the next time you're feeling sorry for yourself and you're in need of emotional rescue (do you have that song in your head now?) remember - perspective is everything.

Things could always be worse.

And for someone else, they are.

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

If you're up for it, here's the blog: http://www.mattlogelin.com/if-you-havent-been-here-before/

Sleepy, so very very sleepy

Sorry for missing out on yesterday. I've just been so insanely sleepy that I can barely keep my eyes open.

Scratch that - a good portion of the time, I'm not even keeping my eyes open.

I fall asleep on the train. Nothing new, but sleeping from the time I get on the train to the time we pull into Union is kinda unheard of. And even crazier is the fact that I sleep all the way HOME too...now THAT'S unheard of.

I generally enjoy my ride home. I read my book, do one last cursory glance at the BlackBerry, and that's about it.

But now? This week? All I can do is sleep.

Sleep.

My favourite five letter word these days.

I want to go to bed so badly right now I can't even begin to describe it. Right in the middle of Grey's Anatomy and everything! And it's actually a pretty decent episode. But I want bed.

Man, I can't freakin wait for it to be Saturday morning so I can sleep in. Just lounge in my bed, no alarms, no DeeDee running around looking for breakfast, no plans until well later in the day. And it's supposed to rain, so maybe if I'm really lucky I'll just spend most of the day lying in bed with Hubs watching movies and just resting. Resting.

Sounds pretty damned good to me.

So that's why yesterday's post never happened and why today's is both boring and brief. My apologies. Here's hoping I'll have much more interesting stuff to blather on about after my Saturday lie-in.

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