My CGT Audition

After waffling about whether or not I was actually going, I caught the 10am bus into the city.  I got in line at 11:30am and did not get inside to the registration desk until 2:30pm. I was given number 10501849.

We sat in the stands waiting for our block of numbers to be called. I was in the 1817-1867 group.  When we were finally called, we waited another hour to be brought up to the audition rooms.

Then it was split into groups of 10 per room, I was assigned to Room L. It was 4pm when my group was brought to outside of Room L.

Then it was 5 at a time per room. I didn't actually get inside Room L until 5:15p. And of course, I was the last one in my group.

First up was a 39 year old black lady from London. She sang an old jazz standard and got to sing the whole thing. She was sharp and flat in spots. But a nice try.

Second up was a 26 year old brown girl from Toronto. She sang a Christina Aguilera song, but one of her jazzy songs. She got to sing the whole song too. I thought she was trying her hardest to sound exactly like Christina which was boring to me.

Third up was a 20 year old white girl from Woodstock who brought her guitar. She sang a country song and got to sing the whole thing. She had a sweet voice, I liked her. She reminded me a bit of Carrie Underwood in her tone.

Fourth up was a 42 year old sex therapist from Toronto. This chick was INSANE. She was wearing a black mini dress with a long black coat and crazy leopard print stilettos. Her hair was done up as if she were going to the prom. She sang an original song called "Man Train". She got to sing the whole song. She was going on about how she wants to combine music with sex therapy. She will make it to the next round based on her level of crazy. Oh and she can't sing worth a lick.

Then it was me. I said my name, age, city and song (Piece of My Heart - Janis Joplin) for the camera.  The producer Erica asked me why I made the trip from St. Catharines. Told her up until 8 months ago I had lived in Toronto for 12 years, then met hubby and moved back home. Then these auditions came up so I had to come. Said I had a band and I did a lot of travelling back & forth for gigs. "So you're familiar with the stage". Yup, the small ones at bars with the drunks who love me and the waitresses who are nice. The drunks love me so much I have to bring hubby to protect me. Laughs from the whole room.

Then she starts my track. I start singing and you know, I'm loud. As I get to the bridge, I can't hear the track anymore so right in the middle of a lyric I say "can you turn it up?" She does and I continue. Got to do 2 verses and 2 choruses and then she cut me off. Everyone applauded when I was done and I did a dorky little curtsy.

And that was it. After everyone sang she asked them more questions. After I sang, she didn't ask me anything. I dunno if that's good or bad.

They gave us a piece of paper saying they will contact us if we make it to the next round by Oct. 31st and call backs are being held Dec 3,4 & 5. We have to do the exact same song wearing exact same outfit, hair & make up.

Here's to hoping!

Canada's Got Talent

I'm auditioning for Canada's Got Talent on Wednesday.

I. am. freaking. out.

I can't decide what song to sing. And when I ask my friends for their opinion, I get 30 different answers. My bandmates at least agree that I should do a Janis Joplin song, but they don't agree on which one.

I had my husband take my guitar to get restrung but it won't be ready until tomorrow, so I've been hacking around on my other crappy guitar that I decided I like better than my real guitar. But it needs restringing as well.

I had to reschedule my tattoo appointment, and I can't decide whether to wear heels or flats.

Oh and there's a special section in the 19 page release form that is specifically about pregnancy.

(j) Pregnancy: I recognize that participating in the Program necessarily may involve strenuous physical activities, including, without limitation, some or all of those described in this Agreement. I understand that some or all of these activities are not recommended during pregnancy. I represent and warrant that if I am pregnant or if I become pregnant during my participation in the Program, I shall notify Producer immediately.

Let's see if I'll be the first pregnant winner of a singing contest. That's if I can ever decide on a song....

End of an Era

After 41 years on television, today is the last episode of All My Children.

After 18 years of birth control, today I take my last pill.

I'll miss them both. A lot.

Taking His Name

I'm getting my husband's last name tattooed to my butt, in lieu of legally changing my last name to his.

My BFF says I'm stupid to do it. She's been married for 12 years and has never once wanted to tattoo her husband's name.  She did tattoo her kids' astro signs to her hip. But nothing for their father. LOL.

Here's the font I've picked.

Pretty eh?

My appointment is scheduled for September 28th. And lucky me, my tattoo artist is at a shop that is five minutes from my office.  She has done half of my tattoos, including the one I got to declare my freedom from my first marriage.

The only other name I have tattooed on me is Elvis. So my husband better know how damn much I love him to want to permanently etch his family name to my bum.

So Long Doc

I had my annual hand-up-in-my-junk exam with my family doctor this morning. And of course I told him I want to have a baby.

While he was poking around in there, he gave me the statistics on all the awful things that babies can be born with to mothers who are in my age bracket. I have a 1 in 365 chance of having a baby born with Down Syndrome. I will have a harder time getting pregnant, and a greater risk of miscarrying or having to deliver via C-section, which could result in low birth weight and other complications in not carrying to term.

He asked me if I would want to do genetic testing.

Nope.

He asked me if I would terminate if I knew my baby had Downs.

NOPE.

"Okay, then I guess there's no real reason to do any prenatal screening other than the usual blood work."

GREAT.

Then he asked me if I had thought about who would be my primary physician for my pregnancy.

"I'm getting a midwife."

His face fell. He looked really disappointed.

"That makes sense, you probably wouldn't want to drive back and forth for appointments as you get further along in the pregnancy. It's better you find someone closer. Well, let me know if you need any copies of your medical records. Just call me and I can get those to your midwife."

OMG, I totally broke up with my doctor!  The doctor who has looked after me since I was nine years old. The doctor who saved my life by prescribing me anti-depressents after my first marriage fell apart. The doctor who would write me sick notes and not charge me $10.

"You'll come see me for the first appointment after you've become pregnant?"

Of course I will.

Don't Force It

For The Comedian's birthday last month, I bought him a limited edition Toronto Maple Leafs wrist watch. I had to up my game from the bucket & pint glass set I got him last year.

This watch is number 1291/4999 and has the Leafs logo on the face, and on the back is engraved with "Toronto Maple Leafs", the Leafs logo and the issue number. It is beautiful and heavy and expensive.

He hasn't had the chance to wear it since I gave it to him because the band was a little too large. so we took it last night to have the band adjusted. We went to the watch & jewelery department at Sears in The Pen Centre.

We handed the watch to the clerk Wyatt and said it needed to have two links removed from the band.

Wyatt sat down at the work bench and picked up a tool that he applied to the back of the watch.  I thought it was strange seeing as every time I've ever had a watch band adjusted, the clerk would take pins out and remove links.

He was cranking on it really hard and then stopped to adjust the tool. Then he cranked on it really hard again.

In my mind I'm thinking this isn't right, but I'm not the type of person to tell someone how to do their job.

He stopped again and readjusted the tool. Then he put it on the back of the watch and cranked REALLY HARD.

Suddenly he dropped everything and said, "You wanted the band adjusted, not the battery changed!"

At this point my heart sank.  I knew what had happened without having to look.  I asked him if he had scratched the watch.  "Um, there's a small scratch."  I asked him to give me the watch.

As I had anticipated, the back plate had been rotated counter clockwise about 20 degrees and there was a GOUGE at the top, completely obliterating the word "Leafs" and the registered trademark symbol.  I actually gasped I was so shocked to see what he had done.  The Comedian had a look and his face sank.  He looked like someone had just killed his dog.

Long story short - I didn't murder him, but he will likely be out of a job today. And they will be paying for a replacement.

While we were waiting for security to show up to document the disaster, The Comedian asked Wyatt if this had ever happened before.

"Yes a few times at my last job, but never on anything worth this much."

"How long have you been working here?"

"This is my second shift."

Seriously Wyatt?!  If I have anything to say about this, your career in watch repairs will be grinding to an immediate halt.

AXHP 988

I have finally gotten rid of the absolute last physical remnant of my first marriage - my license plates.

I didn't have a car until shortly after I was married for the first time in January 2006. My ex-husband drove his car into the ground, namely by never getting an oil change.  My sister-in-law's father was selling his 1995 Sonata for dirt cheap so I decided to buy it to save my ex from having to take the bus an hour and a half each way to work.

I loved my little Sonata. It was purple, in perfect shape and had only 120,000KM on the odometer.

My ex came with me when I went to register for plates.  I was hoping to get a plate number that was cool, or at least that I could easily remember.

The branch of the MTO (DMV for my Yankee friends) I visited had the unfortunate series of AXHP.  My ex suggested I look through the stack to find a number that I liked. I pulled out 988, because I like the number 8 and they didn't have the 888 plate available.

And now 5 1/2 years later, I went back to the MTO and handed them in. I gave my car to my brother last week. He needed one and I just don't use it anymore. And with our plans for a baby, we want to buy an SUV (looks like it will be a Hyundai Tuscon!).

When I handed them in, the clerk kept asking me if I was certain I wanted to do it. Yup. Take 'em, don't need 'em.

"If you give these back, you can never have that plate number EVER AGAIN!"

I assured him I really didn't care about the plate number.

"So you're SURE you want to return these?"

YES GOVERNMENT DRONE, I AM SURE.

I am really not going to lose any sleep over never having this plate number again.  I came up with the mnemonic device "All Xrays Harm Puppies" in order to remember it.  Seriously, my heart is not breaking over this.

The clerk seemed especially attached to my plates because he asked me a THIRD time if I was sure.

Ladies and gentlemen, our tax dollars hard at work.

I signed a piece of paper that declared I understood my grave decision in releasing the plates from my ownership and they will be forever locked in a dark room with no food or water. Yeah yeah, just give me my refund assholes so I can get back to work.

Less the administration fee, I'm getting a cheque for $20.85 in 6-8 weeks. Yeeee haw!!!

So long AXHP 988. Thanks for taking me all around Toronto and surrounding GTA, to and from Niagara, and to and from Cleveland.  Oh and thanks most of all for nearly running over my ex husband. That's the greatest gift of all. ;)

Free Fall

So we've made the decision that I'm going off the pill when I finish the current package, which means I'll be swallowing my last pill in 22 days.

I'm thrilled and terrified and excited and terrified. Did I mention I'm terrified?

I haven't been off the pill since I was 18 years old. I can remember with technicolour clarity how vicious my period was prior to being on the pill. I wanted to rip out my uterus and throw it into a freezer until I needed it for childbearing. PMS would hit me so hard that I would spend days bawling my eyes out for no apparent reason. My father wanted to take me to a psychiatrist to find out why his child was a basket case.  My family doctor told him it was normal.  Yeah, I don't think wanting to commit suicide for a week out of every month would be considered quite normal however my insanity wasn't due to any other mental health issue. So my doc did the right thing by putting me on the pill. The fact that I was sexually active was really just a minor consideration.

I'm scared of having a natural period again. I'm hoping we shoot and score right out of the gate because I really don't want to see what happens after I ovulate for the first time in almost 20 years.

It's strange how I'm finding myself scared at the prospect of finally having a child, when this is something that I've always wanted.  I think it's mostly the change that will happen to my body that I'm afraid of rather than having the responsibility of raising a child - that part I can handle.  The thought of pushing that little one from my loins is what's making me freak right out.

It's a big change going from spending my entire adult life doing everything I can to prevent a pregnancy to letting it all blow in the breeze.  Weeeeeeeeeeird.