My Impossible Christmas List

Blog, in these days of high tech toys and other luxuries, a person needs to pause and consider the more elusive things we all wish for come this holiday time. No, I'm not talking about world peace, an end to hunger and homelessness, or other such altruistic dreams...I'm far too self-centered for that. I'm talking about that list of dream gifts that each of us has, items that even Santa couldn't bring to us because they're more or less impossible to hope for.

So, because I'm self-centered enough to think our readers might care, here's my personal Impossible Christmas List for 2010:

1.  That blue creature in the AT&T Windows phone commercials. He has beady eyes, tiny limbs, a fun mouth, and says "Wow-wow-wow. Wow." Neither does the Blue Guy exist in real life, there are no plush versions available for purchase. The best I can do is hope that the commercial remains available on YouTube forever so I can watch it occasionally to see my little pal. [Let's give a shout out to YouTube for existing, shall we?]

2.  A class at Greendale Community College taught by Dr. Linus. Imagine the good version of that oh-so-conflicted character from "Lost," Ben Linus, standing at the white board of some classroom you could share with Jeff, Abed, and the crew from "Community." At some point Abed would observe in his adorable deadpan, "This is a cross-network mashup of comedy and drama, I wonder if we should be funny or inscrutable." I would say, "This is a cross-network fantasy incorporating two of my TV dream guys, I wonder if I should flirt with Abed or Dr. Linus." [I am grateful though to have lived in the time of "Lost" and that "Community" did not get cancelled after one season.]

3.  Having said class be a course in my books called "Diana Laurence 101." Imagine Dr. Linus doing literary analysis on the stories in Soulful Sex: The Darker Side. Because that's one of my favorites and I wish romance readers everywhere had a copy. Dr. Linus would say, "Your assignment for tomorrow, class, is to read 'Kiss Me and Other Commands' and be prepared to talk about what you would do if you had Bix's powers." Neato, Blog. [Grateful though that I was able to write that book, because it was big fun.]

4.  A giant treehouse. I love trees. I love houses. I love treehouses. You're up high and there are leaves right outside your windows. I know it's not impossible to live in a treehouse... someone lives in this one. But as we are not willing to move out of Magic House and have almost no yard, there will not be a treehouse in our future, Blog. [Fortunately, Magic House is the next best thing to a treehouse, I think.]

5.  The NFL making a decision in the Brett Favre sexting case. Now this, apparently, really IS impossible, Blog. Still, I wish it could happen. [Thank heavens this happened with my arch-nemesis player rather than a hero... love ya, Guy Carbonneau!]

6.  Lots and lots of cats. Sadly, there is a limit to the reasonable number of cats a person can own if she lives indoors and not outside on a 100 acre ranch or something. I would love it if we could alter the space/time continuum so that I could adopt every cat that I see that is cute in perpetuity. Eventually I would own thousands of cats. I would need to work 300-hour weeks to make enough to house and feed said cats, which is why this item is on the Impossible Christmas List.[Happily, I only have to work a little bit to feed Cody, Alice and Selke. And I'm not allergic to cats which would be the saddest thing ever, Blog.]

7.  A food that tastes like chocolate covered potato chips but is the healthiest thing you can possibly eat. Or maybe like crullers. [Can I get a hell's-yeah for the invention of the cruller?]

8.  Working pancreases for diabetics everywhere. See, I can get altruistic, Blog! As one myself, I know how awesome it would be to wake up tomorrow with my functioning pancreas back. [Nevertheless, Navie my continuous glucose monitor is the next best thing, so hooray for him...and I wish diabetics everywhere could have one too.]

9.  The Swarovski crystal tiger only costing $34.95. I saw this tiger in Las Vegas and coveted it. It costs about $450.  Now Blog, you may be thinking, "Why not just put the tiger on the list?" Well first of all, that's not impossible. It just costs $450. I don't want myself or anyone paying the amount that could get you a nice flat-screen TV for a crystal tiger. I want the beautiful tiger to only cost $34.95, and then I'd buy it myself. [Happily, it costs me less than $450 to sponsor our live tiger, Kahn, for a year, and that comes guilt-free.]

10. All my blog followers and Facebook friends from around the world at Magic House for a fantastic party with my fabulous family. Blog, it's incredible how many people I've met on the interwebs have become great friends of mine, and how much I depend upon their comradeship and support on a daily basis. It would be swell to crank the Neverending Ubiquitous Patio Party Playlist on my iPod, crack open the bounteous Magic House bar, and host the whole gang face-to-face.

However, I do have an iPod (new this year), a bounteous bar, all those fantastic friends, and that fabulous family. So even if I can't have the stuff on my Impossible Christmas List, I don't have a single complaint.

Meeting my hero

Well, Blog, today is a special day: the 50th birthday of my personal hero, former NHL star and coach Guy Carbonneau. Although not all our readers know that name (but some sure do!), I bet they all have personal heroes they would give anything to meet in person. Well, I did, almost exactly ten years ago!

At that time I had spent a couple of years working on a huge tribute website to Guy, who was playing for the Dallas Stars. He knew about the site, and I had corresponded with his brothers, but we'd never had any contact. This story from my website tells how one lucky girl had a very special meeting with her hero--against the odds.

Oh and one other cool thing, Blog--today's article on Guy's 50th on the Montreal Gazette's site links to my tribute site when you click on his name!  So glad to get to share the 316 pages of my site (well, who's gonna read them all?) with his many devoted fans.  Still love you, Guy!  Now, back in time ten years....



"It’s always darkest before the dawn." I can vouch for that, and you can bet I’ll never forget it again.

On March 5, 2000, as I watched the Stars play the Red Wings on ESPN, I eagerly anticipated my annual visit to Dallas, only 17 days away. Midway through the second period, Guy Carbonneau skated off the screen, and somewhere off camera he got his hand caught in Kirk Maltby’s jersey. The jersey snag fractured Carbo’s wrist and likewise my dream of seeing him play in Dallas. I struggled with despair, wondering if I might never see him play with my own eyes again.

If only some guardian angel could have whispered in my ear, "Hey Diane, there’s something you should know. Did you see that stick Guy was using in the game? In three weeks that Sher-Wood will be hanging in your kitchen."

Darkest before the dawn…gotta remember that.

The first glimmers of morning light tinged my heart a couple of weeks later. Reports were that the wrist was healing well. And yes, Guy made a fantastic recovery and was cleared to play just in time for our trip. It was a miracle, I was thrilled, I would get to see him in practice as well as two games!

But as we took off for Dallas, I had a new quandary. Was there any way I might get to speak to him, during this visit that might be my last? I took my two game-worn Carbo jerseys to Thursday practice, hoping for divine intervention.

What I and my companions found was that the viewing gallery was closed that day. Another stroke of bad luck! But the light in the east continued to grow, and divine intervention appeared in the form of Assistant GM Doug Armstrong, who took pity on us and let us watch practice from the lower level. What a thrill! A full practice, complete with scrimmage, by the Stanley Cup Champions, viewed from ice level. And flying among them was the man about whom I had written thousands of words without saying a single syllable to his face.

It was glorious, and my head spun joyfully as it always does after watching a Stars practice, but what next? We lingered in the Stars Stuff store, a little aimlessly, when who should appear but another visiting angel: Stars play-by-play announcer Ralph Strangis. We struck up a conversation with one of our favorite broadcasters, and finally I had the courage to tell him of my plight. He advised we wait outside where the players left in their cars. It was a plan…

But when we went out to the lobby, we found it was pouring rain outside. Always, as I must repeat, darkest before the dawn.

Ralph found us, perplexed and forlorn, and said he needed to go back to the dressing room. He would tell Guy I was there. Ralph returned a few minutes later with instructions from Carbo to wait there in the lobby, and he would come. And a few minutes after that, the door opened again.

Prettiest sunrise I’ve ever seen.

You might think I had imagined this scenario quite a few times in resplendent detail, and you would be right. You might think I dreamed of having a few photographs of myself talking to Guy Carbonneau about his sweaters, right again. You might think I imagined him smiling, being kind, taking all the time in the world to speak with me, making me actually believe he was pleased about his website and delighted to meet me at last, and of course you’re right again. You might think I most certainly set myself up for disappointment and there was no way this rendezvous could live up to my expectations.

Dead wrong there, bucko.

This is Guy Carbonneau, so of course, it was better than my expectations. It all happened, all of it and more. And then he asked me to come back so he could give me that Sher-Wood. As if he needed to give me anything else.

During our visit to Dallas I saw three glorious practices, two awesome hockey games, and spoke with Guy a total of four times. During our visit to Dallas I also put behind me my fears that I might never meet this great man, and replaced them with the conviction that I haven’t seen the last of him. I left Dallas with Guy Carbonneau’s Sher-Wood UPS-ing its way to my kitchen wall. I left Dallas also with the matching gift he gave me: the feeling that I had actually done something to repay him for all he’s meant to me. Bless you, Guy.

So remember that lesson, friends: It’s always darkest before the dawn.

As for me, I feel like the sun is never going to set.