I went over to the mall on my lunch hour on Friday to get some blush.  Something I do far too often.  Well, not the buying of blush, but rather the going to the mall on my lunch hour.

Anywhoo – I entered the Mac Cosmetics store and was greeted by a delightful young girl who proceed to help me in my quest.  And who, at one point during our make-up transaction, said “Do you ever get told you look like a certain celebrity?”.  I VERY hesitantly answered “nooooo . . . why?  Who were you thinking of?” all the while holding my breathe.  Because maybe I don’t want to look like the person she’s suggesting.  Maybe I wouldn’t be happy being compared to, oh, I don’t know;

Sandra Bernhard?

Or Courtney Love?

Or Rosie O’Donnell?

But she answered “you remind me of (get ready for this . . .) Meg Ryan.”

Meg Ryan???  Really???  I have NEVER heard that before.  Not that I wouldn’t be proud to be compared to Meg Ryan, don’t get me wrong.  But honestly.  Aside from the bit of blonde we both have in our hair, I really don’t see the resemblance.  Sure, we both have two eyes, a nose and a mouth.  And in these particular shots, we both have bangs.  But that’s pretty much where it stops.

(She’s the one of the left in case you’re wondering.)

Yes, I know the delightful young Mac Cosmetics girl and I were engaged in a sales transaction.  And perhaps she was trying to get her numbers up.  Or maybe they’re experiencing an inventory surge in blush and were under strict orders from upper Management to sell as much blush as humanly possible that day.  And perhaps the Mac Cosmetics Sales Training material teaches delightful young salesgirls that comparing middle-aged mothers to successful Hollywood celebrities is a sure fire way to sell blush.  Not sure.

But I did buy the blush.

The Eldest and I went to see “This Is It” Friday night.  A rare date for just the two of us.  One-on-one time with either boy is something that I love and always promise myself I’ll do more often.   But time, as always, is usually the issue.  So when these opportunities do come along – I really enjoy them.

Now, I’m not a BIG Michael Jackson fan, and there was that whole court case issue.  And although the 9 year old Eldest isn’t a big fan either, he is a lover of music and has seen many Michael Jackson impersonators while on our yearly vacations to Caribbean resorts.  He also recently discovered Micheal’s music this past summer when radio stations starting playing a lot of it again after his death.  So he was keen to go with me.

And we thoroughly enjoyed it.  You simply can not deny that Michael had talent.  And lots of it.  He was a true entertainer.

The movie is basically the behind-the-scenes footage of him rehearsing for his upcoming concert tour.  And what a concert it would have been.  He was going to perform every big hit he had ever had.  With the most unbelievable special effects and visuals.  Some real ground-breaking stuff.  It would have been awesome.

I would have bought a ticket.  I know it would have been really expensive, but it would have been a once-in-a-lifetime thing.  And it would have been totally worth it.

Now, I’m no expert, but he certainly didn’t appear sick and he certainly didn’t appear drugged out.  Although he was thin, he appeared completely well, and very in control of both his body and his thoughts.

But what struck me the most was how kind and humble he seemed to be.  And thankful.  Thankful for the people around him that were also preparing for this tour, and just thankful for the opportunity to be doing it.  There was no big ego.  No “mantrums”.  No outlandish demands of his “people”.  Just kind, humble, creative cooperation.  He knew what he wanted.  He knew how to create a real concert experience and he wanted to give his audience the very best.

And it certainly would have been.

What a shame.

I’m getting my hair done today.  Excuse me if I don’t sound very thrilled.  That would be because I HATE getting my hair done.  Sure, I like it after the fact -- well a few days after the fact, once it’s settled in -- but I hate the actual process and sitting in that god damn chair for soooooooo bloody long.  It seems like such a waste of time to me.  There’s so many better things I could be doing.  Like cleaning out my belly button or watching paint dry.  But it’s a necessary evil.  The price to pay for being vain about your hair.

Fortunately I actually have good hair.  I’m not just bragging -- I’ve had many stylist say so.  It’s straight and very, very thick.  And it pretty much does whatever I want it to -- a quality that I would prefer to have in my husband and children, but it is a good quality to have in hair nonetheless.

And I do love my hair dresser.  And sometimes his wife also does me (in a completely non-sexual way -- don’t get the wrong idea here people).  I’ve stalked them to 3 different salons over the years.  They both do high-lights and low-lights like nobody’s business.  And they can cut with the best of them.  But neither one of them can style their way out of a wet paper bag.  Come to think of it, I have NEVER had anyone who can style my hair to my liking (yes -- I acknowledge that I could be the problem).  I always bring a ball hat with me to throw on the minute I leave the salon, then run home and re-style.  In fact I’m now at the stage where I’ll just say “I’m only going home to watch TV on the couch and go to bed.  You don’t have to bother styling me.  Just give it a quick blow-dry to get some of the wet out”.  Because honestly, what’s the point of sitting in that god damn chair a minute more than I have to for something that I won’t even like?  It’s torture.  Particularly when it’s high-light/low-light time, or the “long one” as I describe it to the boys.  The “short one” is the appointment where I just get a little trim up.  A re-shaping if you will.

And to Willie’s credit he has kindly trained the boys to systematically repeat “oh -- you’re hair looks nice Mommy!” the minute I come through the door.  Whether they’ve even looked at my hair or not.  And I know that they’re on autopilot when they say this because I, too, have looked at myself in the mirror.  For the past 2 hours that I’ve spent in that God forsaken chair as a matter of fact.  And I either a) have a baseball hat on so how could they possibly see my hair in the first place or b) it’s been styled to the hilt and froo-frooed up with so much product that my hair resembles something that should be walking down the red carpet on Oscar night -- which is in stark contrast to the jeans, t-shirt and runners I’m wearing.  And so I look completely ridiculous.  But they all get lots of bonus points for saying it looks nice anyway.

So tonight I will go for the “long one” and they will work their magic.  I will get a few high-lights and a few low-lights.  Then they will trim me into shape and send me on my way.  And I will have much less money in my account.  But tomorrow morning, after I shower and style it myself, it will look fabulous.  At least for 6 -- 8 weeks.

——————-

Speaking of hair . . . A 51-year-old chunk of hair taken from Elvis’ haircut when he entered the Army is going up for auction this week, among some of his other items.  And I LOVE LOVE LOVE me some Elvis!  It’s tempting . . . VERY tempting.  Do you think they could extract some of his DNA, mix it up in a petri dish and impregnate me?!?!?  How cool would that be?  Elvis’ Baby Momma.  That just might be worth bidding on . . .

Dear Mr. James Frey,

I’ve been meaning to write you this letter for quite some time.  Unfortunately I procrastinate a lot so I haven’t gotten around to it yet.  Sorry.  But now I have a blog so I figured I could write your letter, turn it into a post and just email you the link, effectively killing 2 birds with 1 stone.  And I’d save on the postage.  A real win-win all around.

I’ve wanted you to know how your book “A Million Little Pieces” changed my life.  No, I wasn’t an addict who found hope and inspiration in the pages.  Nor was I in the publishing industry and learned some valuable lessons from the aftermath of “The Controversy”.  No.  I was simply a girl who didn’t read books.

But back in December of 2005 all I kept hearing about was your damn best selling book.  It was everywhere.  In stores.  On TV.  Even my beloved Oprah wouldn’t stop talking about it.  “ALRIGHT ALREADY!”  I said.  “I guess I’m going to have to read this bloody book so I know what the hell everyone is talking about!  Which is something I had never said before.  Because prior to December 2005 the extent of my reading consisted of the newspaper and one corny Mary Higgins Clark “suspense” novel each year while on vacation.  I know.  I know.

So I did buy your book.  And I couldn’t put it down.  No really – I couldn’t put it down.  And I feel in love with reading.

And just as I was finishing the last quarter of the book “The Controversy” broke.  But I didn’t care.  I had been enjoying that book SO much, that whether the whole damn thing was fabricated or just an insignificant-to-the-overall-plot detail or two was fabricated, it didn’t matter.  Because by then, you had ignited a fire in me.  A fire for the love of reading.

So I finished the book.  Then I read “My Friend Leonard”.  And then I went on to read many, many more really good books.  And I haven’t stopped.  I enjoy getting into bed at the end of the day and disappearing into a good story.  Or relaxing in my living room on a sunny weekend morning with a big cup of coffee and a good book.

So thank you James Frey.  Thank you for giving me the gift of reading.  Because if not for all the fuss about your book, I may still be hanging out with Mary Higgins Clark once a year.

I really hope that things have turned out well for you.  I haven’t bought “Bright Shiny Morning” yet, but I’m going to when I’m done my current book.  And I’m sure I’ll thoroughly enjoy it.

Yours Truly,

Cher

And now we move on to the U2 concert part of “The Only Girl’s Big Day” . . .

If you’ve read any of the reviews, you’ll know by now that it was freaking awesome!  That enormous stage was UN-believable.  Their performance was outstanding.  The music was spectacular.  And he’s just so handsome.

I enjoyed every moment.  From singing and clapping and dancing, to just trying to look around and take it all in.  Yes it was expensive, but I say it was worth it.  No regrets here my friends!

And although Cherry was probably a little sad that she wasn’t at the front of the stage with her friends that had lined up with their General Admission tickets – for the previous 24 hours might I add !!! – I think she did enjoy the different view point and was able to take in all the effects that you wouldn’t otherwise see when you’re right at the very front.  And I really enjoyed experiencing it with her (thanks again Cherry!).

Here’s a couple pics . . .

The big honkin’ stage before they turned the lights off.  I mean honestly – look at that thing!

The big honkin’ stage all lit up.  We were 30 rows from the field by the way.

The Man himself.

And when it was all over (just past 11:00pm), Cherry and I immediately left the stadium, and headed around the side of it to Gate 15, where I dropped her off with her friends for the night.  Because she joined the General Admission line up that had already started to form for the next night’s concert!!!!  Can you believe that?!?!?!  She was lucky number 37 and seemed quite happy about it.  So once she had secured her position, and had her number marked on her hand, off she went to her car.  To get a warm sleeping bag and some supplies to get her through the long chilly night that lay ahead.

I, on the other hand, headed off to the train station to make my way home.  To my comfortable warm bed in my comfortable warm house where there was plenty of food, running water and flushing toilets.  Which was a good thing, because somewhere between the stadium and the hour long train ride home I contracted a nasty stomach bug . . . oh my God – I hope I didn’t pass it on to Maureen Holloway!

Sigh.  What can I possibly say?   What words can I possibly use to give my experience the justice it deserves?  I know you were all expecting a delightfully witty post about my big day, but you’re simply not going to get it.  Why?  Because I’m at a loss for words.  And I’m exhausted.  No really.  EXHAUSTED!  That was a big,  long day I had.  It was exciting and I was up late and I don’t do well on minimal sleep.  And then, to make matters worse, on the way home (sometime around 1am) a stomach bug got a hold of me.  But I’m on the road to recovery and wanted to share a few details with you.

Yes.  Yes I DID meet the lovely, the gracious, the hilarious, the kind and the stunningly beautiful Maureen Holloway (oh, and her lovely husband by-the-by).  She was delightful.  And yes, you could say that in some capacity, we are in fact, now friends.  But how can I possibly describe our meeting?  Yes, I was nervous and, oddly enough, at a loss for words.  Which is rare for me.  I tried very hard to be cool and polite, but inside I was thrilled.  Thrilled to meet her and thrilled that she was even lovelier than I had thought.  Because I would have been really disappointed if she had turned out to be a whiny nasty bitch.

Although words fail me to adequately describe Part One of “The Only Girl’s Big Day” perhaps I’ll just share a few pictures with you instead.

Here we are only moments after first meeting . . . when she used the words, AND I QUOTE “your blog is fantastic”.  Yes, that’s what she said!  Doesn’t matter if she meant it or not – she said it.  And on camera.  Because my friend video taped our meeting.  I know, I know.  Crazy and sad all at the same time, but I knew that I would be too nervous to remember any of our conversation.  But now I have repeatedly listened can choose to listen to her kind words over and over and over again.  Whenever I want.  And I must say here, that the only person that was happier than me at this moment was my dear friend Elle.  Who was so chuffed for me that she was practically beside herself.  She was giddy!  That’s when you know you have a true friend – when they are just so excited to watch you have your moment, that it actually becomes their moment too.

So here we are! (no – her hand isn’t made from alabaster.  Nor is there something wrong with it.  She was simply wearing gloves for sanitary reasons because she was going to flip some of the lunch burgers.  So stop looking at my friend’s weird hand.  It’s perfectly normal and manicured under that glove.  Please concentrate instead on how happy we look together.  And how warmly she’s embracing me.  And how she can totally pull off that pink & white breast cancer cowgirl hat!  My friend is so stylish)

And here she’s signing a Q107 poster that reads, AND I QUOTE “For Cher, My new best friend and blog colleague, Maureen Holloway”  Ha!  What do you think of that!

And for the record, I think she only signed two of those posters, and the other one was for Elle.  So there was definitely some special treatment there.

And here’s me with Mr. John Derringer (please note – again with the warm embrace)

And the rest of the Q107 morning radio show gang that I start every day with (left to right:  Bill Hayes, John Garbutt, John Derringer, Ryan Parker and of course my friend, the lovely Maureen)

And all joking aside, the event itself was a success.  Tons of people came out to support the Women’s College Hospital Breast Centre.  I think everyone had fun and lots of money was raised.  Which was what it was really all about.  Allowing a lot of really great people to continue doing some really awesome work.

And on a private note . . . Mo – I’d definitely go with the silver shoes.

Tomorrow I’m volunteering to help Elle with “The Longest Lunch“, a fund raising event she’s involved in that benefits the Women’s College Hospital Breast Centre (join us if you can!).  And the Host at this event will be none other than Maureen Holloway.  Maureen Holloway!  Yes, the one on Q107.  The one that hosts “The Last Word” on radio stations all across Canada.  The one that I love listening to every morning because she’s so gosh darn funny.  The one that also has a hilarious blog called “More Mo” that I’ve been reading every day for ages.  The one that is partially responsible for inspiring me to start my own blog.

And tomorrow I’ll be meeting her!  Live and in person.  Which Elle has done many times before.  And Elle says she’s simply delightful.  Which I had already figured.  But now I’m nervous.  What exactly do you say to someone you follow every day, and yet they have no idea that you even exist?  How do you not come across as a bit of a stalker?  Can I contain my excitement at meeting her?  Will she notice how nervous I am?  Will she think that’s strange?  Strange that a mature married woman has a non-sexual girl “crush” on her?

I hope not.  Because I’d be mortified!  Because in my  mind we will meet and instantly become good friends.  She’ll find me delightful.  And she’ll start sending me those annoying “because you’re my friend” email chain letters.  And she’ll want to hang out at the Mall with me.  And borrow my clothes.  And get pedicures together.  And she’ll want me to go to chick-flicks with her all the time.  And she’ll start texting me everyday.  And I’ll feel pressured.  And then she’ll get all “why aren’t you returning my calls?”  And I just don’t know if I’m ready for that . . .

A dear friend of mine is on vacation this week.  She’s headed to Vancouver, B.C. to visit her brother, her soon-to-be-sister in law, and most importantly, her 5 month old nephew.  Who she loves to bits.  And I have to say – I’m a little envious of her vacation plans.  Firstly, because she’s going to Vancouver, which in of itself, is a beautiful place to visit.  Secondly, because while she’s there, she gets to go wedding dress shopping with her soon-to-be-sister in law – and who wouldn’t love that?!?!  But mostly I’m envious because she gets to spend 3 days hanging out on a movie set!!!

You see, her nephew Jordan has been cast in a made-for-tv movie that will be filming while she’s there and his parents (and by association, his Aunt) will have to accompany him to the set.  Imagine her luck!  Now I understand the role he’s been cast for is that of a baby – okay, not a big stretch for his first role – and I’m sure that at 5 months old, he doesn’t have many lines to worry about.  I’m sure it’s all about looking cute.  Which he’s really good at.  Very good in fact.

But being a bit of a Hollywood aficionado myself, I’m insanely jealous.  I do pride myself in keeping current on the comings and goings of Hollywood.  The latest gossip.  The dirt.  And Vancouver is often referred to as “Hollywood North” because it’s such a popular filming location.  Which makes it the next best thing to Hollywood.  So I’m intrigued.  What exactly is it like to be on a movie set?  Is it just like they show in the movies or do they jazz it up for the big screen?

And what about the infamous “Kraft table” (the free table of goodies you can eat from all day long)?  Is it as good in life as they always make it sound?  Is it just sandwiches and cookies like at a coffee truck?  Do they cater in hot exotic dishes from the finest local restaurants?  Or is it really more like cafeteria food?  Of course I suppose that depends on the budget of the movie being filmed and the quality of the celebrities in it.

So I have given my friend the important mission of getting to the bottom of such questions.  She’s been instructed to take many pictures and report back to me immediately upon her return.  Because I must know everything.  Everything there is to know.

Can you believe it’s been 12 years?  Twelve years since I spent a week in tears glued to the TV.  Twelve years since my friend slept over so we could wake up in the wee hours of the morning to watch the funeral live.  Twelve years since I sobbed for her two little boys, which was years before I had two of my own and even knew what it felt like to be a mother.  Twelve years since the world lost an extra-ordinary woman.

And yet I remember it like it was yesterday.  And it still makes me cry.  No really.  I’m tearing up while I’m writing this.  I need to go get a tissue . . .

July 1, 1961 – August 31, 1997