Cast of Diva Characters

I am a mother.  Never wouldathunkit, but that is the most important thing I can say about myself.  I am also an artist, a designer, a seamstress, a novice herbalist ….a former dancer, choreographer, director, university professor… but I would say now (tho’ I might have imploded and morphed into toxic jello before saying this 21 years ago) that I am most proud to be Mama to Oldest Diva, Middle Diva, Smallest Diva and Adopted Divas 1 & 2.

Wow, the curves that life throws…

Oh, I suppose I should cop to being Queen Diva, because once I was, but my offspring have much stronger inclinations than I do these days, so I am just Mama.

This blog is a way for me to keep track of the constant chaos that is our lives.

Here is the cast:


OD – Oldest Diva

MD – Middle Diva

SD – Small Diva

AD1 – Adopted Diva 1 (OD’s BFF)

AD 2 – Adopted Diva 2 (MD’s BFF)

oh…and…ex-DD – Diva Dad (the ex-husband unit)…though these days, I am more apt to refer to him as dickhead because of his incredibly selfish behavior.  I know, name calling does not reflect well on me, but it makes me FEEL better.

Woody – the diva dog…rescue dog we adopted for Smallest Diva’s 10th birthday.  Definitely some boxer in there and then either some American bulldog or pit bull.  They said he was done growing and would weigh no more than 60lbs.  Nice medium sized dog.  Yeah, right.  Monster grew at least 4-5 inches in height and added at least 25lbs. He loves us, likes to lick, and I am allergic to his saliva.  I am the alpha around here so we definitely have a complicated relationship.

Waffles – the first diva cat…complete spazmo matriarch of the staircase.  She actually cries heartbreakingly when she thinks she’s been left alone in the house.

Pumpkin – the second cat, not so much a diva as a dog in a cat’s body…adopted us near Hallowe’en one year.  Black with green eyes, tho’ when he showed up as a kitten they were orange, hence the name.  He really tries to be our protector…frequently nursing wounds from the neighborhood orange tomcat (the little shit).

(big sigh…who’s making the margaritas?)

Now, to explain the “Diva” moniker:  My sister Katie told me about Sarah Silverman on Bill Maher a bit back.  She had this take on people who CALL themselves divas…I so totally agree, so I feel the need to qualify myself.  I have always called my daughters “Divas” because of their particular high-tone, twistedly obvious, artistic take on life.  They can’t help it.  There is a demand on life, a “high-maintenance” quality that really is devoid of bitchiness but still demands attention that has always compelled me to call them “Divas.”  (Yes, the capiltalization is necessary.)

They do not call themselves Divas, so Sarah’s wonderful diatribe does not apply to them.

Now…me.  I would say that before I got sick in 2000 and suffered diva-debilitating brain damage, yes, her definition may very well have applied to me.  I never called myself a diva because not only was every wonderful diva I knew an actual, beautiful drag queen, but I think I intuitively knew that making that declaration was a very bad thing for an actual diva to do…one must never admit to being as high-maintenance a mega-bitch as one is.  But, I can take it now.  I am more aware (I think) and less a bitch (I hope) and therefore less a c*** (I freaking better be!).

So, here is Sarah’s definition as seen on Bill Maher.  Please be aware of the strong language…I do not want to offend anyone, but I so get her meaning.



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