The Truth about Divadom - By: Professor Prima Diva Donna

With the latest trend in society to call every walking, breathing woman a diva I feel it my duty to clarify a few things. I'll lay it out there with as much grace and tenderness that can come from a "true, bonafide, certified" Diva . . . I'm sorry to say, but the title "Diva" can not be applied to just any woman.

If we examine the history of the word Diva it was originally a term used to celebrate a woman of outstanding talent, beauty and majesty in the world of Opera. I'm truly sorry to break so many poor little un-diva hearts, but that means that at the very least one must be able to SING in order to truthfully live in the Diva realm. And when I say sing, I don't mean in the shower or at the karaoke bar or even to your wee little children who aren't yet able to comprehend that you are in reality squawking like a dying chicken. The term was used by the Italians to refer to a woman with a truly "Divine" voice. Of course there is a similar word that would refer to male singer, but I for one don't see it as necessary to discuss such nonsense. We all know that great sopranos are also great at everything else including: glamour, mystery, beauty, and radiance. We are certainly worthy of adoration for more than just our great voices, but it really does all come down to our teeny tiny infoldings of mucous membrane that stretch across the larynx and vibrate with such magnificent splendour and beauty.

What I'm really saying here is that if you are going to have the gall to call yourself a diva you must first at the very least be able to perform a death defying stellar cadenza popping all of the high C's,D's etc. with extreme skill and beauty, all the while maintaining your glamorous yet mysterious facade. Of course you also must be a master at several other skills, notably these: the maim and destroy all other sopranos skill, the humiliate your accompanist skill, the conduct the conductor with a death glare skill , the upstage ALL others at ALL times skill, the dump your lover at the drop of a dime skill, the over the top hissy fit skill and so much more. Let's be real, if you haven't mastered any of the skills that truly define a Diva at this point in your life, forget about it! You have no hope. You simply don't have what it takes to ever live up to the title. So stop pretending to be a diva and just deal with being ordinary. . .ordinary is um . . wonderful too . . yes it is! Simply wonderful! I personally wouldn't want to be just ordinary, so I do truly understand the desire to proclaim oneself a diva. I truly sympathize with you from the bottom of my heart if you are really just an ordinary person trying to fill the sparkly shoes of an authentic diva. For the sake of all of the bonafide, certified diva's out there can you please just accept who you are and stop abusing and misusing our rightfully earned title. The term "Diva" can only be applied to those who are truly grandiose enough to own such a divine title. :)

The Spider Pig Theme Song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R828rFd2aI

I'm not a huge Simpsons fan, but I went to see the Simpsons Movie yesterday. I went with my brother-in-law who is a pretty big simpsons fan. I was expecting to sit there and not laugh, but I giggled throughout and found it to be quite funny.

My favourite part was the famous Spider Pig scene, but what really made me chuckle was the spider pig theme song that played during the credits. I wonder who had the privelege of singing this "classical" choral arrangement - it's stinkin hilarious!! I'm thinking that I might just have to do a solo operatic version of this at my next recital:)

Black Eyeliner

I'm finding that there's something rather appealing about a manly man who wears black eyeliner.

The liner worked for Tobey in Spidey 3,
but I'm thinking that perhaps it was the new side swept bangs
that made him so appealing.


The liner has always worked for Johnny in Pirates, but perhaps it's simply the addition of the blacker than black mascara that makes him so appealing. I wonder what brand of mascara Johnny uses. That's all I could really think about as I watched him in Pirates 3 today.

Valentine's Day Greeting

Mike and I have decided to go into the business of writing Valentine's Day greeting cards.

Here's our first attempt:

I love you on Feb 13th and I love you on Feb 15th,

so what's the big deal about Feb 14?

Lucia di fishbowlnomoor

example of a gold fish with big bulgy eyes

(also known as telescope or dragon gold fish)

I had a fish just like this, named Lucia (named thoughtfully after Donizetti's tragic heroine Lucia di Lammermoor.) She was ever so adorable! Unfortunately she took after her name sake. She went mad one night and committed suicide by jumping out of the tank. It was a tragic scene the next morning when I found her lying all shriveled up on the floor with those big sad bulgy eyes starring up at me. (Who knew that you're not supposed to fill the fish tank to the extreme top.) To this day I wonder if she sang a big dramatic over the top cadenza before taking her big dramatic death leap, cause we all know that that's what a girl does when she goes mad.

Can fish sing? :)

Boots For A "Real" Woman

So, I've been challenged by one said Tenor from Texas to stop being so "darn serious" in my blogs and blog a bit of "the hilarity of my diva life." I hate to disappoint you mon petit "Romeo", but I live a "complex", "dramatic", "deep", "intellectual" life . . . . . . Aaaa! who am I kidding I've got a bit of " hilarity" happening too.
Dan, I dedicate this to you,
for all the moments of "hilarity" that you’ve blessed me with over the past year.
Enjoy!
Diva kisses. mmmmmmwa!

My New Boots

(a true story by a "real" woman)

So a couple of weeks ago I decided to go boot shopping. I needed a new pair of winter boots this year as my old ones are rather worn. (not to mention that they so aren't working with my fertility clinic "professional" attire.)

Now, I've been blessed with what I like to refer to as tree trunk calves. My calves are . . . well to put it bluntly, large. Over time I've learned to love and accept the thickness of my "inverted bowling pin" legs. The way I see it is that they are part of my instrument, divas need all the support we can get to hit those ultra high notes. And look at trees, they've got the large trunks for support, but they also are radiant with delicate limbs and graceful beauty on the top. I'm willing to compromise :)

That being said, boot shopping has never been fun for me. I remember so many winters of disappointment after numerous attempts of zipping up and failing to squeeze my calves into those stylish winter boots clearly not designed for the "real" woman. I've always had to settle for short boots designed for grandma "cankle".

Seeing that it's 2005 I was thinking that perhaps the boot people have caught up with the rest of the fashion world. Maybe they had finally heard the voice of the "real" woman and responded by making boots for sausage calves. So I decided that the only way to save time and energy was to go into the stores, confess that I have large calves and bluntly ask the sales people if they have any long boots designed for the "real" woman.

My first stop was a trendy little shoe store called Transit. I walked in and had a look around, looking only at the pairs of boots that looked like they'd fit my "trunks". Not too soon after, a pushy shoe sales guy stood next to me and with his "shoe salesman" smile and started to put on the "I need you to buy shoes from me cause I gotta meet my quota" charm. I looked at him and immediately began the "real" woman rant: " don't they make boots for real women?" "Why?" "Not all women have legs that can snap in half like twigs you know!!"
The guy looked at me, smiled and tried the "hit on the sad, insecure girl with big calves to make her feel better" shoe sales technique. (It's amazing what those shoe people will do for a sale.)
So Shoe guy said in the most sincere way he could muster, "Oh you're beautiful. Look at you. You don't have big calves. No way." In my head I was thinking, 'oh puh-lease, You haven't even seen the meatiness of my calves yet. Enough with the charm. Just find me some wide legged boots so that we can both get on with our days.'

He started showing me boots that according to him would "definitely" fit. Being me, not having the heart to burst shoe guy's bubble, I smiled back, laughed and told him to bring out the boots to try on. (Of course I told him to bring out size 9 instead of my usual size 7, strategically thinking that surely the upper part of the boot will be larger too, just like the foot part.)

Before he went to the back to get the boots, he stopped suddenly, looked at me and asked, and I quote: " hey yo, what's up with that thingy on your necklace, what's it mean?." I explained to him that it's a Jesus fish, a symbol of Christianity, that I am a Christian. "cool", he said. And waltzed to the back.

Lately evangelism has been at the forefront of my mind, so as I was sitting on the bench waiting for shoe guy to come back with the boots, I found myself thinking, 'perhaps this is a divine moment. What if he asks more about my fish, my Jesus, my church? Maybe this was an opportunity for some real dialogue.' So I prepared myself to share the good news of the gospel.

The now "seeking" shoe guy came back with a pair of black leather long boots. "Here try these first.” he said. I looked at the boots and I knew that there was no way the boots were going to fit my calves. I said, "no, they're not gonna fit." "oh try them!", he replied. So for the sake of evangelism I put them on, and started zipping. I was expecting the zipper to stop moving as soon as it got to my lower calf. Well let me tell you, not only did it stop moving, but it got stuck. I attempted with some force to unzip the boot and yes, the zipper ended up splitting. And "seeking" shoe guy was standing there watching this all unfold.

So the boot was still on my foot. Stuck above my ankle and I couldn't get it off. I was sitting on the bench yanking away. Having thoughts like 'oh no, they're going to have to get a chain saw to cut me out of the boot.' Being the gentlemanly type that he was, "seeking" shoe guy started to help me by trying to pull the boot off my foot. What a moment.

This guy was determined to get the boot off. He pulled so hard but the boot wouldn't budge. I, on the other hand, began to slide off the bench as he tugged with all his might. So there I was, in the middle of the trendy shoe store with a broken boot stuck on my foot. By this time laughing my pants off cause, of course I realized the "hilarity" of the moment? All the poor "seeking" shoe guy could do was stand there not knowing what to do or say. It was the Cinderella moment I had always dreamed of!!

When we did get the boot off, I quickly got up, apologized over and over for breaking the boot, thanked "seeking" shoe guy for his help, And went on my way leaving him there trying to fix the zipper for spaghetti legs, who will one day buy those boots never knowing that rigatoni legs broke the zipper at one point in time.

So my quest for long boots ended rather abruptly that day. I decided that it wasn't worth the humiliation. I did find a pair of hush puppies last week though. Guess what? The Hush puppies shoe company has heard the voice of the "real" woman and now make boots for sausage calves like mine. Yaaaaay hush puppies!!!!!

It's too bad that I didn't get to share the gospel with "seeking" shoe guy. Maybe the Lord will restore my dignity and prompt me to go back and buy a pair of shoes from him someday. In the mean time, I'll pray that a twig legged evangelist shows up at transit to buy one said pair of lovely long black leather boots with a repaired zipper.