What a long strange trip today has been inside my head!!
I guess I'll work backwards because that's what's forefront on my mind... For those of you not aware of my MOST guilty pleasure it's the MTV reality shows -- Real World especially. But tonight I got sucked into Sorority Life and Fraternity Life. And it was just so outrageously, slap me in the head awful good that I was talking out loud to the tv. (Ok, I do this a lot. I'm single -- I live alone, and some things are just TOO outray to internalize, I'm sorry) The thing that just totally gets me wrought is the TOTAL young, dumb cute aspect. You think you can get away with SO much because you're YDC and most of the time, well -- you're right. So, here's what happened... First we see the Sorority pledge, poor little Nicole. The girl is going nuts over this pledge guy Tim. So the Sorority show is of course focusing on her side. She's trying to make him jealous by flirting with other guys (ingenious and mature dating tactic, she probably read the damned Rules) -- and she's asserting in the confessional (if you think this is just a Catholic thing, you need to get cable and watch MTV, it's just that simple) that she's NOT going to call him anymore and she is NOT going to do all the work. You know, all that bullshit stuff you promise yourself that you NEVER follow through with. Ok. So he comes over and the background stuff is "I know he's going to kiss me, it's time for it, it's ripe for it" And she is doing ALLLLLLLL the stuff -- every single "look at me -- look at how kissable I am" trick. She might as well be wearing a sign, but she doesn't know that because she's in it. And I think about me and ALLLLL of the times I have done all of that exact same shit and I wonder. Was it really that obvious?? It's painful to see. So, whatever -- he SO does not kiss her and just teases her with the kiss on the cheek and she's like a disaster. (Look at how many "likes" I have -- this stuff is like cotton candy for your brain!)
So, in our next half hour we have Fraternity Life and it's Tim's side. Guess what?? Wonder of wonders -- he doesn't like her and he's just a prick about it. He's all if she doesn't know I don't like her then she's just dumb. Well, of course she's dumb sweetie -- did you ever come out and just TELL her that you don't like her "like that" and just want to be friends? No!!! Men are just SO awful when it comes to this. I don't want to go into the stereotypes but women are such products of their hormones that it's not even funny. If we're interested in a guy and they even raise an eyebrow, then reason is OUT the window. And Tim just perpetuates (I needed a $3 word to make up for all the likes) this stereotype that men just expect women to know how they feel about things based on some secret code.* Look, I left my secret decoder ring at the office okay! Just TELL me how you feel -- I would rather have you rip my heart out and eat it in front of me then have you give me vague statements like "i'm just really stressed out and I'm just not ready for a relationship." Let me tell you something: any woman who's clinging the way poor stalking (and she is a stalker -- and frankly it's obnoxious, but only because I KNOW that he's not interested and she doesn't!) Nicole is will take any crack in the brick wall and tear at it. You can see her thinking -- he's not ready for a relationship because he's pledging and it's stressful, but once that's over with then I'll have been here all along, bringing him breakfast bright and early in the morning (which by the way she did once 2 minutes after the stripper he just banged left!)
(*Maybe men send off body signals as a means of demonstrating their feelings because THEY are visual, thus thinking WE are visual and able to read these signals. Hmmm...)
Nicole disturbs me because I have been Nicole. I have brought someone breakfast 2 minutes after they just banged someone. Probably on more occasions than I even realize. Maybe not *2* minutes but you get my point. Scary scary stuff!
And it's funny too b/c this righteous indignation can live in my body with my complete relationship bliss day. That's how multi-faceted I am, folks! Won't get into specs, but have had some bumpy days with S. Frankly, I should just say to the boy -- look at the calendar, IT'S HERE -- just work it out. Listen to me, agree with me, buy me shit and wait til the floooow. Because then it's over. It's just a few days, you know? Things could be worse. (I know, if you are a man it's hard to imagine this) Anyways, I wanted to do something nice -- you know, to show that I'm not always rampage-y question everything girl. So, I sent flowers. I know, I know -- I lack imagination, it's sad. What do you send? Beer? A stripper? Weed? Not gonna happen! So, he leaves me this awesome message and just swept me off my feet. I was literally teary listening to it. No, I'm NOT going to tell you -- my loyal 3 readers -- what it said. Doesn't matter, just made me really really happy. ANYTHING could have happened after that and I would have just coasted it. Like, I finally understood that stupid Thank You song, it was that cool. Yeah, my house is burning down but did you HEAR this message? Yeah, I know. No, you can't have him -- he's MINE!
Well, I had all of this way cool Heather's head stuff to spew out but as it turns out now I'm just thinking about the message and I've got nothing left. So, I will leave you with our dear Tim's PROFOUND final thought: sometimes the right time to be in a relationship is when you WANT to be in one, not when you NEED to be in one.
Deep stuff, Tim -- your mom would be proud!
kisses,
HP
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Oh the pressure of fame is pressing on me!!
Apparently 20 people have come and visited my little blog since I installed my counter. Some are even like people FAR away if the geographical counter can be any indication. (Thanks to my friends in Korea!) At this rate I'm going to take over the world... Some day.
And unfortunately, my stories are just getting LAMER with the daily input. I am going to have to create some drama in order to have a story. Poor S -- just fodder for my blog. Ha ha.
I had a complaint today. But that's not even a good story -- that guy just didn't like me tone. But I didn't like HIS tone either and I didn't go whining to HIS boss about that. That's just not right. One thing I miss about collections -- you can't really heavily insinuate that people are whiny and stupid any more. They don't like that. At all. And now, I have to care. I finally got the call that I had been warned about -- someone call to complain because his premium went up 25 whole dollars. Over 6 months. It's like $4 a month. One less trip to McDonald's sir and you are SET! And his premium was CHEAP! Like not much more than I pay to get highlights put in my hair and this was over 6 months!! I had to put him on hold so that I would not say something like "you are wasting my TIME -- I don't even care if this is my job -- suck it UP buttercup!"
I did not say that. But I wanted to. We had a talk and I tweaked some stuff and saved him even more money!! Now his insurance is practically free and he's a bit happier. I pretty much told him not to buy a newer car because then he's be REALLLLY unhappy and for the love of GOD do not move to North Carolina! Don't even think about it!
I don't know. I may have said this before -- hell, I don't even read my OWN blog so I don't know what I'm rambling about most of the time -- but I'm generally pretty patient with people and their questions. I understand that if I weren't sitting at my desk with the (limited) knowledge that I have and the information that I do have that I wouldn't know jack about insurance either. I particularly feel sorry for the young wives whose husbands are deployed. They're like 22 and barely out in the world and now they're having to figure it ALL out and on their own. I try to do a little insurance 101 with the people. You need this, you don't need this, and this is what this means and so on. I've been there -- young and dumb. It's frustrating to me to hear, well I don't know any of this because he handles it... I just want to shake them up sometimes -- sister: figure it out! The only way you get the power is through knowledge! And don't I know this?? Too well!
Ramble ramble ramble -- don't know what's gotten into me tonight but I'm gonna go try to ease the hamster away from the crack pipe so I can catch some sleep before I have to go out at dawn to meet the state inspector guy.
love & kisses --
HP
Apparently 20 people have come and visited my little blog since I installed my counter. Some are even like people FAR away if the geographical counter can be any indication. (Thanks to my friends in Korea!) At this rate I'm going to take over the world... Some day.
And unfortunately, my stories are just getting LAMER with the daily input. I am going to have to create some drama in order to have a story. Poor S -- just fodder for my blog. Ha ha.
I had a complaint today. But that's not even a good story -- that guy just didn't like me tone. But I didn't like HIS tone either and I didn't go whining to HIS boss about that. That's just not right. One thing I miss about collections -- you can't really heavily insinuate that people are whiny and stupid any more. They don't like that. At all. And now, I have to care. I finally got the call that I had been warned about -- someone call to complain because his premium went up 25 whole dollars. Over 6 months. It's like $4 a month. One less trip to McDonald's sir and you are SET! And his premium was CHEAP! Like not much more than I pay to get highlights put in my hair and this was over 6 months!! I had to put him on hold so that I would not say something like "you are wasting my TIME -- I don't even care if this is my job -- suck it UP buttercup!"
I did not say that. But I wanted to. We had a talk and I tweaked some stuff and saved him even more money!! Now his insurance is practically free and he's a bit happier. I pretty much told him not to buy a newer car because then he's be REALLLLY unhappy and for the love of GOD do not move to North Carolina! Don't even think about it!
I don't know. I may have said this before -- hell, I don't even read my OWN blog so I don't know what I'm rambling about most of the time -- but I'm generally pretty patient with people and their questions. I understand that if I weren't sitting at my desk with the (limited) knowledge that I have and the information that I do have that I wouldn't know jack about insurance either. I particularly feel sorry for the young wives whose husbands are deployed. They're like 22 and barely out in the world and now they're having to figure it ALL out and on their own. I try to do a little insurance 101 with the people. You need this, you don't need this, and this is what this means and so on. I've been there -- young and dumb. It's frustrating to me to hear, well I don't know any of this because he handles it... I just want to shake them up sometimes -- sister: figure it out! The only way you get the power is through knowledge! And don't I know this?? Too well!
Ramble ramble ramble -- don't know what's gotten into me tonight but I'm gonna go try to ease the hamster away from the crack pipe so I can catch some sleep before I have to go out at dawn to meet the state inspector guy.
love & kisses --
HP
Monday, April 28, 2003
I hope that my presence wasn't too sorely missed over the weekend, I was down in the Outer Banks chilling with S and a friend from work. It was an interesting weekend on several fronts and I am not actually going to chronicle that much of it, because there's only a little bit that may put me in a positive light and we all KNOW that I am not about that. Well, that's not true -- I'll be the first to tell negative stories about myself, but some things even I will keep private. Believe it or not.
So, without all of the LURID details of my weekend (another beautiful thing about not sharing information is that you can make it seem so much more interesting than it really is by virtue of the fact that info is witheld), I don't have much to add. I'm just plodding along until my 30th birthday and I officially roll over that hill! I'm not even all that pressed about that event -- it's just another birthday. There will be a party and there will be drinking and friends and I will, of course, have a fabulous time. Everything is not going to change in the world because there's another candle on the cake. I know that I always WANT it to be different, for my birthday to be this grand momentous occasion -- but I have found that if I approach these things with THAT level of expectation that I am just setting myself up for disappointment. I just expect average. If things happen beyond that, well -- great! And it's not often that things fall BELOW that mark, so I'm usually pleasantly surprised. I try to approach MOST things with this view, but when I have vocalized this sentiment in the past I have been accused of cynicism and "meanness." I do not understand this. I look at it like this: if I were going to work and my boss merely expected me to do so okay work, then whatever I did BEYOND that would merit me greater benefits. It's the same with relationships -- not just with S, but my friendships too -- if I don't expect TOO much (which I struggle with, because I do expect A LOT) then I am generally pleased with the return. How is this a bad thing?
I have stolen the phrase "I am a work in progress" from my boss. I'm trying to learn to think in this manner and not expect my life to be "done." I will some day have a house that's more organized (maybe not House Beautiful ready, but organized) and I will some day tap into my passion and I will develop skills that further my career but those things don't have to be done NOW. As long as I don't give up the expectation that these are things that can be accomplished and if I can just friggin stop beating myself up ALL the time, then my work will progress!
Godspeed --
HP
So, without all of the LURID details of my weekend (another beautiful thing about not sharing information is that you can make it seem so much more interesting than it really is by virtue of the fact that info is witheld), I don't have much to add. I'm just plodding along until my 30th birthday and I officially roll over that hill! I'm not even all that pressed about that event -- it's just another birthday. There will be a party and there will be drinking and friends and I will, of course, have a fabulous time. Everything is not going to change in the world because there's another candle on the cake. I know that I always WANT it to be different, for my birthday to be this grand momentous occasion -- but I have found that if I approach these things with THAT level of expectation that I am just setting myself up for disappointment. I just expect average. If things happen beyond that, well -- great! And it's not often that things fall BELOW that mark, so I'm usually pleasantly surprised. I try to approach MOST things with this view, but when I have vocalized this sentiment in the past I have been accused of cynicism and "meanness." I do not understand this. I look at it like this: if I were going to work and my boss merely expected me to do so okay work, then whatever I did BEYOND that would merit me greater benefits. It's the same with relationships -- not just with S, but my friendships too -- if I don't expect TOO much (which I struggle with, because I do expect A LOT) then I am generally pleased with the return. How is this a bad thing?
I have stolen the phrase "I am a work in progress" from my boss. I'm trying to learn to think in this manner and not expect my life to be "done." I will some day have a house that's more organized (maybe not House Beautiful ready, but organized) and I will some day tap into my passion and I will develop skills that further my career but those things don't have to be done NOW. As long as I don't give up the expectation that these are things that can be accomplished and if I can just friggin stop beating myself up ALL the time, then my work will progress!
Godspeed --
HP
Friday, April 25, 2003
Coupla randoms...
Woke up this morning and had the "false well alarm" -- thought I was better. Gradually, throughout the day have deteriorated rapidly. I really need a nostril-sized roto-rooter to clear out my sinuses so I can move on with life. I can't hear and this dripping nose thing hasnt been cute since I was 6. And frankly, it probably wasn't cute then either.
Second, finally saw DIVINE SECRETS OF THE YA-YA SISTERHOOD. All I can say is that I am certainly glad that it's been a while since I read that book. I know they left a whole bunch of stuff out and there's nothing worse than that. That's why if I read the book and see the movie, I always try to space that stuff apart. That way the one doesn't take away from the other. Otherwise, I just go to the movie and prepare to be disappointed. That way if it turns out better than I hoped then that's going to be an improvement. Actually, I tend to look at a lot of things in life like that. "Expect suckiness" is pretty much my motto.
Third, I've entered geekdom. One, I'm home alone on a Friday night even though I am supposed to have a boyfriend who adores (ha!) me and an active social life to boot. While I'm not entirely disputing S's adoration of me (well, maybe a little -- but I'm a doubter, what're you gonna do) our conflicting health issues have kept us apart. It's like a REALLY bad fairy tale. So, I'm at home contemplating playing with my new Sims game when it occurred to me: I am almost 30 and I'm basically doing the digital equivalent of playing dollhouse, like I did when I was 6. Scary stuff! Oh well. If I'm going to be a geeky, snotty loner then I might as well invent some friends to keep me company.
OH MY GOD -- JUST LIKE I DID WHEN I WAS 6!
Ok. Off to get the tissues, have a feeling I'll need them while I'm crying myself to sleep. ;-)
godspeed,
HP
Woke up this morning and had the "false well alarm" -- thought I was better. Gradually, throughout the day have deteriorated rapidly. I really need a nostril-sized roto-rooter to clear out my sinuses so I can move on with life. I can't hear and this dripping nose thing hasnt been cute since I was 6. And frankly, it probably wasn't cute then either.
Second, finally saw DIVINE SECRETS OF THE YA-YA SISTERHOOD. All I can say is that I am certainly glad that it's been a while since I read that book. I know they left a whole bunch of stuff out and there's nothing worse than that. That's why if I read the book and see the movie, I always try to space that stuff apart. That way the one doesn't take away from the other. Otherwise, I just go to the movie and prepare to be disappointed. That way if it turns out better than I hoped then that's going to be an improvement. Actually, I tend to look at a lot of things in life like that. "Expect suckiness" is pretty much my motto.
Third, I've entered geekdom. One, I'm home alone on a Friday night even though I am supposed to have a boyfriend who adores (ha!) me and an active social life to boot. While I'm not entirely disputing S's adoration of me (well, maybe a little -- but I'm a doubter, what're you gonna do) our conflicting health issues have kept us apart. It's like a REALLY bad fairy tale. So, I'm at home contemplating playing with my new Sims game when it occurred to me: I am almost 30 and I'm basically doing the digital equivalent of playing dollhouse, like I did when I was 6. Scary stuff! Oh well. If I'm going to be a geeky, snotty loner then I might as well invent some friends to keep me company.
OH MY GOD -- JUST LIKE I DID WHEN I WAS 6!
Ok. Off to get the tissues, have a feeling I'll need them while I'm crying myself to sleep. ;-)
godspeed,
HP
Thursday, April 24, 2003
I'm sick. I HATE sick people because they are SO friggin annoying and now I am one of them. I never get sick and usually have to use my "sick" days for mental health stuff. However, since this week I already had my stomach issues then my legitimate sick time is now unavailable. Sucks. But if I want to party like a rock star for my birthday then those are the breaks.
But back to my original thought... Sick people suck. They whine and complain and just BITCH. I'm sick, here are all of my symptoms -- pity me. I won't lie: because I rarely get sick I am a FAT whiner when I am ill. "I think my fever went up another point -- start the last rites" <--- and I'm not even Catholic. However, I also have a martyr complex so will steadfastly refuse offers of help because I'm a big girl. I can do it on my own. Still, when I'm sick I want my mommy. She wasn't kissy-kissy nurse maid or anything, but she brought me stuff and parked me in front of the tv. I don't want much more than that.
So, I guess I'm off to park myself in front of my tv and will just hope that the stuff magically appears. Doesn't matter anyways, because let me tell you about these symptoms I have...
Just kidding. G'night!
HP
But back to my original thought... Sick people suck. They whine and complain and just BITCH. I'm sick, here are all of my symptoms -- pity me. I won't lie: because I rarely get sick I am a FAT whiner when I am ill. "I think my fever went up another point -- start the last rites" <--- and I'm not even Catholic. However, I also have a martyr complex so will steadfastly refuse offers of help because I'm a big girl. I can do it on my own. Still, when I'm sick I want my mommy. She wasn't kissy-kissy nurse maid or anything, but she brought me stuff and parked me in front of the tv. I don't want much more than that.
So, I guess I'm off to park myself in front of my tv and will just hope that the stuff magically appears. Doesn't matter anyways, because let me tell you about these symptoms I have...
Just kidding. G'night!
HP
Countdown!
Funny thing happened over here in Bloggerville -- I figured out how to install a counter! And I thus far have had a wander-in audience of *6*! That's right 6 whole people and only maybe one of which was me! That means 5 people are reading this crap and expecting entertainment and witticisms and stuff. Well, HA! Joke's on you! There's nothing funny in here and there's not much worth reading either but you won't care! You'll keep returning again and again and again because you're thinking -- it has GOT to get better than that... Why does she think I care about reading THAT?
Survey says: I do not care what you want to read about. Understand, that's not personal but I can't know what you want to read about unless you tell me. So tell me. Drop me a line and say "I want to read about the terrible things that are happening to baby seals in Antarctica, Heather -- not your irrelevant opinions about your own boring life." To which I will say "too friggin bad, bub. I don't know about the seals and I don't CARE, but thanks for writing."
Short and sweet because already running late for my shower and prep time -- perhaps something interesting and relevant will come my way today for a topic, but somehow I doubt it.
Godspeed,
HP
Funny thing happened over here in Bloggerville -- I figured out how to install a counter! And I thus far have had a wander-in audience of *6*! That's right 6 whole people and only maybe one of which was me! That means 5 people are reading this crap and expecting entertainment and witticisms and stuff. Well, HA! Joke's on you! There's nothing funny in here and there's not much worth reading either but you won't care! You'll keep returning again and again and again because you're thinking -- it has GOT to get better than that... Why does she think I care about reading THAT?
Survey says: I do not care what you want to read about. Understand, that's not personal but I can't know what you want to read about unless you tell me. So tell me. Drop me a line and say "I want to read about the terrible things that are happening to baby seals in Antarctica, Heather -- not your irrelevant opinions about your own boring life." To which I will say "too friggin bad, bub. I don't know about the seals and I don't CARE, but thanks for writing."
Short and sweet because already running late for my shower and prep time -- perhaps something interesting and relevant will come my way today for a topic, but somehow I doubt it.
Godspeed,
HP
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Here's the latest... Had the visit with the dentist today and all was fabulous. They have a "watch" on one of my teeth, but they've been watching it for some time. Apparently my tooth is threatening to do BAAAD stuff, so I need to keep it in line.
Also, bought a couple of bathing suits today b/c I couldn't try them on -- the Wally World dressing room was shut down. So, I just bought 'em and tried 'em on at home. :::Phew:::: There is no torture worse in life for a chunky girl than trying on bathing suits. It's a fate worse than death -- worse than being out of chocolate even! It's BAD! But I read this theory that you're supposed to start trying them on with lots of coverage and then work your way down to the least amount you're comfortable with. I started with a scuba suit and really felt too exposed in THAT, so... Just kidding. I said heck with everyone -- I'm fat, you know it and I definitely know it and no amount of matronly swimsuit is going to cover that up so I might as well get a decent tan and bought a bikini. Apparently, these things are not designed for people with breast because the two I have tried on barely cover my nipples. Not quite the amount of tan even I was going for! So, it's back to the drawing board and the Wally World in hopes of better wares. (Wears?)
kisses and goodnight,
HP
Also, bought a couple of bathing suits today b/c I couldn't try them on -- the Wally World dressing room was shut down. So, I just bought 'em and tried 'em on at home. :::Phew:::: There is no torture worse in life for a chunky girl than trying on bathing suits. It's a fate worse than death -- worse than being out of chocolate even! It's BAD! But I read this theory that you're supposed to start trying them on with lots of coverage and then work your way down to the least amount you're comfortable with. I started with a scuba suit and really felt too exposed in THAT, so... Just kidding. I said heck with everyone -- I'm fat, you know it and I definitely know it and no amount of matronly swimsuit is going to cover that up so I might as well get a decent tan and bought a bikini. Apparently, these things are not designed for people with breast because the two I have tried on barely cover my nipples. Not quite the amount of tan even I was going for! So, it's back to the drawing board and the Wally World in hopes of better wares. (Wears?)
kisses and goodnight,
HP
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
{{{filler}}}
I'm not sure why, but I really like the way those {{{ things look. Kinda like echo echo echo. So THAT'S what the inside of my head really looks like! I have nothing to report. Was a fairly so-so return to work today. Some of my customer's were insane. More than once today I cheerily requested to put them on hold and then once they were on hold I continued in monotone with "so I can beat my head into my desk until I am dead." Keyboard kept getting in the way and beeping so there went that plot out the window. Wound up having to answer their darned questions anyway. Still, it really baffles my mind the things these people think of to call and ask about. That they will then complain about because it inevitably will cause their rates to go up.
Customer: Well, what if I got really drunk and ran over a small dog -- what part of my policy gives me coverage for that?
Me: Sir, DID you hit a dog?
Customer: It depends on your answer.
Me: No, sir -- it doesn't. Either you hit the dog or you didn't.
Customer: Honestly I think it was already dead when I hit it. Besides, it was my son driving anyways and he was only SORTA drunk.
Me: Uh-huh. But we don't even show your son is driving.
C: You don't? Well, he's been driving for about 6 months now.
Me: {{{tap, tap, key, key}}} Well, that's going to be about $1 billion extra per month for that alcoholic teenager who got in the accident.
C: You frigging bastards just want all of my money -- why do I pay insurance anyways?
Me: Because you have to and you love us and you're going to keep paying and you're going to like it or I will send the Hounds of Hell on you
Just kidding. I mean, I basically say that last part, but in very syrupy customer service girl voice, so it's okay.
I want to be an underwriter. They get paid, very well I might add, to tell people that they suck and we're going to charge them a WHOOOOLE lot because they suck and if they don't like it they can just TRY to get insurance somewhere else but they're never going to be able to because no other company is going to put up with their foul suckiness. THAT would be cool. And they get to say that stuff, I saw it in the job description.
But seriously, I do feel a twinge of some (blonde) ambition and I'm going to be plotting that climb up the old corporate ladder so's I can get back to some of the evil that's so innate in my personality.
And that's all I've got for today -- not bad for someone who didn't have ANYTHING. Tomorrow: Tales from the Teeth!
Godspeed!
HP
I'm not sure why, but I really like the way those {{{ things look. Kinda like echo echo echo. So THAT'S what the inside of my head really looks like! I have nothing to report. Was a fairly so-so return to work today. Some of my customer's were insane. More than once today I cheerily requested to put them on hold and then once they were on hold I continued in monotone with "so I can beat my head into my desk until I am dead." Keyboard kept getting in the way and beeping so there went that plot out the window. Wound up having to answer their darned questions anyway. Still, it really baffles my mind the things these people think of to call and ask about. That they will then complain about because it inevitably will cause their rates to go up.
Customer: Well, what if I got really drunk and ran over a small dog -- what part of my policy gives me coverage for that?
Me: Sir, DID you hit a dog?
Customer: It depends on your answer.
Me: No, sir -- it doesn't. Either you hit the dog or you didn't.
Customer: Honestly I think it was already dead when I hit it. Besides, it was my son driving anyways and he was only SORTA drunk.
Me: Uh-huh. But we don't even show your son is driving.
C: You don't? Well, he's been driving for about 6 months now.
Me: {{{tap, tap, key, key}}} Well, that's going to be about $1 billion extra per month for that alcoholic teenager who got in the accident.
C: You frigging bastards just want all of my money -- why do I pay insurance anyways?
Me: Because you have to and you love us and you're going to keep paying and you're going to like it or I will send the Hounds of Hell on you
Just kidding. I mean, I basically say that last part, but in very syrupy customer service girl voice, so it's okay.
I want to be an underwriter. They get paid, very well I might add, to tell people that they suck and we're going to charge them a WHOOOOLE lot because they suck and if they don't like it they can just TRY to get insurance somewhere else but they're never going to be able to because no other company is going to put up with their foul suckiness. THAT would be cool. And they get to say that stuff, I saw it in the job description.
But seriously, I do feel a twinge of some (blonde) ambition and I'm going to be plotting that climb up the old corporate ladder so's I can get back to some of the evil that's so innate in my personality.
And that's all I've got for today -- not bad for someone who didn't have ANYTHING. Tomorrow: Tales from the Teeth!
Godspeed!
HP
Monday, April 21, 2003
HOME, HOME AND DERANGED
Ok. I'm not deranged, but I couldn't come up with a better hook line. Well, ok -- I AM deranged, but only a little. Mainly because I'm stuck at home today because I'm feeling a little under the weather... Did big Easter meal over at boyfriend's parent's house (along with my own parents) and I think I over-did it. It's funny that I'm a little, chunky girl when really I don't actually think about eating that much. So, when I'm surrounded by a feast of fabulous succulent food choices I tend to go crazy. And when you spend most of your life not really focused on eating high on the hog, it's a STRANGE occurrence in your body. My stomach's been confused and angry since late last night. I honestly didn't think I was going to be able to get in my car and drive home.
And one of the annoying things is that here I have this nice day off and could be DOING productive things but just don't feel good enough to get dressed and go out and do stuff. I mean, they're stupid things but they need to be done. One of them involves my intense need to go grocery shopping and I just REALLY don't feel like being surrounded by food at this particular juncture. I hate going to the store anyways but now, I can't even look full on at commercials about food.
But my loyal audience is waiting for news and views from my world and I feel compelled to fill this space with some random garbage pouring out of my head. I think I'm just going through some kind of phase where I need to validate my existence because I'm hitting that 30 benchmark. So I throw out words into the web hoping for feedback and I throw myself into my friendships and relationships because I need to feel like I am here for a reason! I need to believe that things are going to expand. And part of that expansion needs to come from me (and not just my waistline) -- needs to come from me validating my OWN existence. And I'm not sure if that is something that I am capable of, which scares the crap out of me. I think there is a part of me that believes that one day the Life Fairy is just going to come swooping in and touch me with her magic wand and I will suddenly feel like I really do have control of my own destiny and I will suddenly truly understand what I am supposed to be doing. And WHILE she's here she will clean out my house of all the crap that I have acquired from other people and don't have the courage to refuse so it just clots up my life and makes me feel like I am not even my own person because I don't even get to pick out my own crap. I think it's hard to feel validated in your own existence when you have always been an extension of someone else's. Someone's daughter, someone's wife, someone's friend, someone's... something.
Sometimes I feel like I am just a projection on the screen of other people's minds of who they think I am and what they think I am about.
Ok. I'm not deranged, but I couldn't come up with a better hook line. Well, ok -- I AM deranged, but only a little. Mainly because I'm stuck at home today because I'm feeling a little under the weather... Did big Easter meal over at boyfriend's parent's house (along with my own parents) and I think I over-did it. It's funny that I'm a little, chunky girl when really I don't actually think about eating that much. So, when I'm surrounded by a feast of fabulous succulent food choices I tend to go crazy. And when you spend most of your life not really focused on eating high on the hog, it's a STRANGE occurrence in your body. My stomach's been confused and angry since late last night. I honestly didn't think I was going to be able to get in my car and drive home.
And one of the annoying things is that here I have this nice day off and could be DOING productive things but just don't feel good enough to get dressed and go out and do stuff. I mean, they're stupid things but they need to be done. One of them involves my intense need to go grocery shopping and I just REALLY don't feel like being surrounded by food at this particular juncture. I hate going to the store anyways but now, I can't even look full on at commercials about food.
But my loyal audience is waiting for news and views from my world and I feel compelled to fill this space with some random garbage pouring out of my head. I think I'm just going through some kind of phase where I need to validate my existence because I'm hitting that 30 benchmark. So I throw out words into the web hoping for feedback and I throw myself into my friendships and relationships because I need to feel like I am here for a reason! I need to believe that things are going to expand. And part of that expansion needs to come from me (and not just my waistline) -- needs to come from me validating my OWN existence. And I'm not sure if that is something that I am capable of, which scares the crap out of me. I think there is a part of me that believes that one day the Life Fairy is just going to come swooping in and touch me with her magic wand and I will suddenly feel like I really do have control of my own destiny and I will suddenly truly understand what I am supposed to be doing. And WHILE she's here she will clean out my house of all the crap that I have acquired from other people and don't have the courage to refuse so it just clots up my life and makes me feel like I am not even my own person because I don't even get to pick out my own crap. I think it's hard to feel validated in your own existence when you have always been an extension of someone else's. Someone's daughter, someone's wife, someone's friend, someone's... something.
Sometimes I feel like I am just a projection on the screen of other people's minds of who they think I am and what they think I am about.
Saturday, April 19, 2003
Disregard last part of post. Turns out S can't bear to live without me and threatened to throw himself off the roof to declare his love for me if I didn't agree to stay with him forever and bear his children. I agreed -- he makes me crazy but he's totally adorable so fairly hard to resist. ;-)
(((Hey, it's MY blog, my fantasy!))))
Tomorrow's Easter, so I probably won't be dropping in -- but it did bring to mind that old Peter Cottontail song. I don't know why but when I was a kid this was one of my MOST favorite songs! I used to sing it while I was riding through the neighborhood on my banana seat bike.
Hopping down the bunny trail,
HP
(((Hey, it's MY blog, my fantasy!))))
Tomorrow's Easter, so I probably won't be dropping in -- but it did bring to mind that old Peter Cottontail song. I don't know why but when I was a kid this was one of my MOST favorite songs! I used to sing it while I was riding through the neighborhood on my banana seat bike.
Hopping down the bunny trail,
HP
I think it's funny that I feel, like, pressured to post things when NO ONE is reading this. I could never be a professional writer because ostensibly someone would be reading my writings and therefore the pressure would be legitimate... Which would mean the writing would need to be legitimate too! Not, well I got up today and killed the cable guy and then went to my slavercise class. The usual... Har har
Actually, got up today and went tanning -- my new hobby! That's right kids: premature aging and skin cancer is now considered a hobby! It's just the weirdest thing to be lying in there like a pod person thinking there surely must be at least 10 valuable things I should be doing with my time instead. And think of how easy it would be for someone to just go in and mow down all those people while they're naked and helpless like aliens in one of those "Set it and FORGET it" machines. I can't believe no one's ever written a book about that. Well, they probably have I just haven't taken the time to search it out. If not, someone should! GREAT idea! It's not going to be, I don't come up with the full throttle plot line, I just get the itch of the beginning of an idea and then lose it, because you know -- I'm thinking about my hair or something. Or obsessing about the skinny beautiful women who go tan and just make the rest of us look even worse. I tan because tan fat looks better than white fat. Whenever I see fat people who are tan I think -- yes, that IS an improvement. It's like wearing black -- it's that same slimming, shadowy effect. Sure, I'm itchy and red and splotchy most of the time but at least I'm tan! And that is what counts! Ignore the cellulite -- it's shadowed in tan! You don't need to work out or eat right or even move around! Just lay in a pod and look healthy and STRONG!
In other news -- apparently S & I just broke up because he's in love with another woman who is more is "love personality type" -- what're you gonna do?? When someone's wrong for you, they're just WRONG! I don't want to trot out all the stories, but I will! Watch this space for more on I'M OK, BUT YOU'RE JUST WRONG!
kisses to all,
HP
Actually, got up today and went tanning -- my new hobby! That's right kids: premature aging and skin cancer is now considered a hobby! It's just the weirdest thing to be lying in there like a pod person thinking there surely must be at least 10 valuable things I should be doing with my time instead. And think of how easy it would be for someone to just go in and mow down all those people while they're naked and helpless like aliens in one of those "Set it and FORGET it" machines. I can't believe no one's ever written a book about that. Well, they probably have I just haven't taken the time to search it out. If not, someone should! GREAT idea! It's not going to be, I don't come up with the full throttle plot line, I just get the itch of the beginning of an idea and then lose it, because you know -- I'm thinking about my hair or something. Or obsessing about the skinny beautiful women who go tan and just make the rest of us look even worse. I tan because tan fat looks better than white fat. Whenever I see fat people who are tan I think -- yes, that IS an improvement. It's like wearing black -- it's that same slimming, shadowy effect. Sure, I'm itchy and red and splotchy most of the time but at least I'm tan! And that is what counts! Ignore the cellulite -- it's shadowed in tan! You don't need to work out or eat right or even move around! Just lay in a pod and look healthy and STRONG!
In other news -- apparently S & I just broke up because he's in love with another woman who is more is "love personality type" -- what're you gonna do?? When someone's wrong for you, they're just WRONG! I don't want to trot out all the stories, but I will! Watch this space for more on I'M OK, BUT YOU'RE JUST WRONG!
kisses to all,
HP
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Tales from the Cube
Some days I actually get a higher than usual amount of enjoyment from my job. The stars are in alignment or whatever happens and somehow I wind up with good calls and non-fussy people. Some days I even get people with a sense of humor who appreciate my crazed & dazed approach to customer service and allow me to perform my full stand-up routine. Those are REALLY good days! But today I got to marry someone! I didn't even know I was licensed for that! It was thrilling, I felt like Joey on that episode of Friends.
What had happened was that guy calls up just for some basic comparison stuff -- he had two cars and was trading one in for a newer car this weekend. Well, he got to thinking about it and was thinking that maybe he didn't want to trade in the car he SAID he was and just wanted to see what the difference was in the premium. We ran the numbers and he didn't understand the rates because suddenly, one car was going to cost a lot less to insure than it should have... I looked at his most recent dec page and did some investigating and it turned out that when he and his wife got married we never married them on their auto policy. Consequently, in the state where they lived because of her age and her unmarried status she was considered "youthful" -- even though she was 29! So I hit some buttons and pronounced them husband and wife and :::BAM::: they were now saving over $200 a year!! We had a lot of laughs about how this marriage was a lot cheaper for them this time around and how her rates were high because she was out zooming through the streets in her convertible picking up guys and so on. Overall, by the time we credit them back to the time they actually got married (because it was our error, so I do believe we can do this) -- they're going to get like $400 back. This is just way-cool to me. It was really nice that they didn't even call me up for that particular reason and then at the end of it, they were just that much happier with me and my company. I like that -- I'm a love my job nerd, I admit it! Tomorrow. someone will be yelling at me because they had a "minor" accident (they rear-ended a Ferrari while they were drunk and totalled it) and now we're "punishing" them with higher rates and maybe I won't be so love-my-jobbish. But TODAY I get to marry people and give them a second anniversary to celebrate and that's just cool!
Anyways, I'm off to vege in front of my tv -- in my bedroom thank you -- because I'm going to soak up that jerry-rigged cable for all it's worth. Because like the Cable Guy says you can't get nothing for free for long!
love y'all more than my job even!
HP
Some days I actually get a higher than usual amount of enjoyment from my job. The stars are in alignment or whatever happens and somehow I wind up with good calls and non-fussy people. Some days I even get people with a sense of humor who appreciate my crazed & dazed approach to customer service and allow me to perform my full stand-up routine. Those are REALLY good days! But today I got to marry someone! I didn't even know I was licensed for that! It was thrilling, I felt like Joey on that episode of Friends.
What had happened was that guy calls up just for some basic comparison stuff -- he had two cars and was trading one in for a newer car this weekend. Well, he got to thinking about it and was thinking that maybe he didn't want to trade in the car he SAID he was and just wanted to see what the difference was in the premium. We ran the numbers and he didn't understand the rates because suddenly, one car was going to cost a lot less to insure than it should have... I looked at his most recent dec page and did some investigating and it turned out that when he and his wife got married we never married them on their auto policy. Consequently, in the state where they lived because of her age and her unmarried status she was considered "youthful" -- even though she was 29! So I hit some buttons and pronounced them husband and wife and :::BAM::: they were now saving over $200 a year!! We had a lot of laughs about how this marriage was a lot cheaper for them this time around and how her rates were high because she was out zooming through the streets in her convertible picking up guys and so on. Overall, by the time we credit them back to the time they actually got married (because it was our error, so I do believe we can do this) -- they're going to get like $400 back. This is just way-cool to me. It was really nice that they didn't even call me up for that particular reason and then at the end of it, they were just that much happier with me and my company. I like that -- I'm a love my job nerd, I admit it! Tomorrow. someone will be yelling at me because they had a "minor" accident (they rear-ended a Ferrari while they were drunk and totalled it) and now we're "punishing" them with higher rates and maybe I won't be so love-my-jobbish. But TODAY I get to marry people and give them a second anniversary to celebrate and that's just cool!
Anyways, I'm off to vege in front of my tv -- in my bedroom thank you -- because I'm going to soak up that jerry-rigged cable for all it's worth. Because like the Cable Guy says you can't get nothing for free for long!
love y'all more than my job even!
HP
Continuing to practice HTML'ing & linking & stuff -- disregard...
va-beach.com (text that will appear as a link on the page)
va-beach.com (text that will appear as a link on the page)
I'm trapped in a Jim Carey movie
So, here I am. Waiting for the cable guy. Again. I readily admit that yesterday's waiting was not in fact the cable guy's fault, but my own stupidity. But today? All on the cable guy. Where is this guy? What is he DOING? What's he just getting done with his 10pm call last night? "I'm sorry Mrs. Robinson but I really need to get going now. It's not right!" I find it difficult to believe that he had an appointment prior to 8 am -- what kind of sadist comes before the sun does?
And speaking of sadism (nice segue, huh?)...THE CABLE GUY IS HERE! I haven't been this excited that someone was coming over since I was a kid and believed in Santa Claus -- which was starting to feel a lot more probable than the Cable Guy!!
Anyways, speaking of sadism -- ran across this fun little article about a new exercise phenomenon known as "slavercise" in Yahoo news of the weird or something.
No Pain, No Gain Has New Meaning
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/nm/20030416/od_nm/slavercise_dc
Basically, (in case I still can't paste links and in case you just don't feel like linking over) the gist is that you go to this class and this Dominatrix bullies you into working out by threatening you with whips and stuff. Plus, you're wearing a dog collar and leather the whole time! I think this sounds HOT! First of all, I'm secretly into kinky as much as the next gal and the added dimension of getting to lose weight while doing it -- who could possibly resist? Unfortunately, I don't think that anything that risque will be crawling into the Va Beach area any time soon. I could be wrong. Maybe there's a large undercurrent of sado-robics going on and I just don't feel the pulse of it because I'm just a little too boring for that.
You know, it's just really weird to be writing about domination with the cable guy traipsing through my house. Not that HE has any idea what I'm writing about. He just thinks I'm some weird, turbaned lady who's probably writing home with recipe requests. What if I were somebody from a movie who was sitting here typing away about how I couldn't wait to corner him and butcher him to his bloody death? How many cable guys disappear every year because frustrated patrons, tired of waiting, just can't take it anymore and they whack the guy when he gets there? Are there statistics on these things? Are they required to carry extra insurance for that? And if so, who's their agent?? Does MY insurance company offer anything like that? Do they carry weapons in case something like that happens? Even if it's just pepper spray? Do they have support groups for cable guys, missing in action?
THESE are the things that I wonder about -- not: if "they" had weapons of mass destruction really then why didn't they break them out while we were bombing the crap out of them? I don't worry about things like that because apparently, it's un-American to wonder about them and I am as apple pie loving as the next girl!
God bless us, every one!
HP
So, here I am. Waiting for the cable guy. Again. I readily admit that yesterday's waiting was not in fact the cable guy's fault, but my own stupidity. But today? All on the cable guy. Where is this guy? What is he DOING? What's he just getting done with his 10pm call last night? "I'm sorry Mrs. Robinson but I really need to get going now. It's not right!" I find it difficult to believe that he had an appointment prior to 8 am -- what kind of sadist comes before the sun does?
And speaking of sadism (nice segue, huh?)...THE CABLE GUY IS HERE! I haven't been this excited that someone was coming over since I was a kid and believed in Santa Claus -- which was starting to feel a lot more probable than the Cable Guy!!
Anyways, speaking of sadism -- ran across this fun little article about a new exercise phenomenon known as "slavercise" in Yahoo news of the weird or something.
No Pain, No Gain Has New Meaning
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/nm/20030416/od_nm/slavercise_dc
Basically, (in case I still can't paste links and in case you just don't feel like linking over) the gist is that you go to this class and this Dominatrix bullies you into working out by threatening you with whips and stuff. Plus, you're wearing a dog collar and leather the whole time! I think this sounds HOT! First of all, I'm secretly into kinky as much as the next gal and the added dimension of getting to lose weight while doing it -- who could possibly resist? Unfortunately, I don't think that anything that risque will be crawling into the Va Beach area any time soon. I could be wrong. Maybe there's a large undercurrent of sado-robics going on and I just don't feel the pulse of it because I'm just a little too boring for that.
You know, it's just really weird to be writing about domination with the cable guy traipsing through my house. Not that HE has any idea what I'm writing about. He just thinks I'm some weird, turbaned lady who's probably writing home with recipe requests. What if I were somebody from a movie who was sitting here typing away about how I couldn't wait to corner him and butcher him to his bloody death? How many cable guys disappear every year because frustrated patrons, tired of waiting, just can't take it anymore and they whack the guy when he gets there? Are there statistics on these things? Are they required to carry extra insurance for that? And if so, who's their agent?? Does MY insurance company offer anything like that? Do they carry weapons in case something like that happens? Even if it's just pepper spray? Do they have support groups for cable guys, missing in action?
THESE are the things that I wonder about -- not: if "they" had weapons of mass destruction really then why didn't they break them out while we were bombing the crap out of them? I don't worry about things like that because apparently, it's un-American to wonder about them and I am as apple pie loving as the next girl!
God bless us, every one!
HP
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
Oh my goodness! I allowed Tax Day to go by without comment. Then again, when you file your taxes in January because you have money coming (and now gone) I guess the day is a tad uneventful.
Had to get up at the CRACK of dawn this morning to wait for the cable guy. You know how they are with their time span appointments -- we'll be there 8-10 and then they get here at 2? Well, I'm pacing around and then I just got a funny feeling. Called the automated line and turned out that my appointment wasn't until TOMORROW! Which means I get to do this early rising and waiting thing AGAIN! So, I've used my time wisely... Went and tanned and decided to pop into the Ghetto Lion to get some cereal and stuff. First of all, I SWEAR I am never shopping in this store again -- I do not CARE if they have me blockaded in with their ultra-convenience! I never shop anyway and when I go to that store and they don't even have one of the two products I actually regularly buy -- well, I'm done. I will go out of my way a couple of blocks and go to a grocery store that actually -- I don't know -- HAS FOOD IN IT! And the worst part was that I was in line behind a man who was buying a large beer and many packs of cigarrettes to start his day off. I don't need to know that there are people living like that (even if I DO know it) before I have even had coffee. Before 10 am! I have done my time in white trash-ville, o-kay? I'm happy to live in blissful ignorance of its continued existence!
Anyways -- have to run off to start my day -- AGAIN! God bless those customers they had best not be asking me stupid questions today or complaining because they got a dui and we raised their rates. Stay home and get drunk like the rest of us, buddy. Or at least be a good drunk driver, like me! Ha ha...
kisses to all,
HP
Had to get up at the CRACK of dawn this morning to wait for the cable guy. You know how they are with their time span appointments -- we'll be there 8-10 and then they get here at 2? Well, I'm pacing around and then I just got a funny feeling. Called the automated line and turned out that my appointment wasn't until TOMORROW! Which means I get to do this early rising and waiting thing AGAIN! So, I've used my time wisely... Went and tanned and decided to pop into the Ghetto Lion to get some cereal and stuff. First of all, I SWEAR I am never shopping in this store again -- I do not CARE if they have me blockaded in with their ultra-convenience! I never shop anyway and when I go to that store and they don't even have one of the two products I actually regularly buy -- well, I'm done. I will go out of my way a couple of blocks and go to a grocery store that actually -- I don't know -- HAS FOOD IN IT! And the worst part was that I was in line behind a man who was buying a large beer and many packs of cigarrettes to start his day off. I don't need to know that there are people living like that (even if I DO know it) before I have even had coffee. Before 10 am! I have done my time in white trash-ville, o-kay? I'm happy to live in blissful ignorance of its continued existence!
Anyways -- have to run off to start my day -- AGAIN! God bless those customers they had best not be asking me stupid questions today or complaining because they got a dui and we raised their rates. Stay home and get drunk like the rest of us, buddy. Or at least be a good drunk driver, like me! Ha ha...
kisses to all,
HP
Monday, April 14, 2003
La Bouche!
Funny thing about me and my mouth. I have a really big one. For those of you not lucky enough to bear witness to this phenomenon on a regular basis, God bless you -- frankly, it's only a matter of time. I just haven't gotten to you yet. Seriously.
The thing is -- I just wish that sometimes I could have surgery to have my mouth disconnected from the rest of me. That mouth of mine just gets me in trouble again and again and again. Perfectly normal conversations go totally awry because I led myself down the wrong path. Happens at work, happens in my personal life and everywhere else in between. Customers will call with some simple little question and somewhere in the process of over-explaining the answer to their problems, I also manage to let them know they have MORE problems than they were even aware of. Causes more work and heartburn for me but I just can't seem to think before I start flapping my jaws. Same thing in my personal life, I'll be having perfectly standard every day conversation with my boyfriend and then BAM out of nowhere I have to start some brainless trek down the path of "Oh my God how did we get HERE?" and all is just not the same from there. Same thing happens with my friends -- we'll be talking about whatever random topic is for the day and out of nowhere I'm spouting off a WHOLE bunch of unsolicited advice. They don't want to hear my opinion on their lives to THAT extent and frankly -- I don't want to be giving it. But -- I. just. can't. seem. to. stop.
This is a disease. I should have special tags on my car. At the very least I should be forced to wear a Rolling Stones logo'd shirts at ALL times to serve as some sort of warning to the general, unsuspecting public. There's just no way of telling when I'm going to unleash some torrid list of complaints or brutal honesty or misinformation or whatever. I am totally a ticking bomb -- even to myself! This gets to be frustrating. I legitimately believe that a bouchotomy or whatever they would call this procedure, may be in order. I would have it removed and then give it like a sustaining device so that I can use it when the situation warrants it. But if I actually had to re-attach my mouth in order to use it? Well, this would involve a thinking process that MAY allow me to take the needed time to actually consider what would be coming out of it once it was attached.
No more random babbling aloud about whatever topic comes to my head. No more aggressive opinions on how to live your life, pushed on you without your input being allowed. No more escaped thoughts.
There are many more benefits, but there would of course be some pitfalls too. Some that even I won't publish on the internet! I wouldn't be able to murmur loving words anymore. I wouldn't be able to vocally sympathize with your trials and tribulations. I wouldn't be able to laugh that distinct Heather laugh so you know just how funny your jokes are. And so on.
So, for all the pitfalls of LA BOUCHE, I think I'll keep 'er. Maybe I can just start trying to train her and go from there?
All for now -- kisses to all 3 of my readers!
HP
Funny thing about me and my mouth. I have a really big one. For those of you not lucky enough to bear witness to this phenomenon on a regular basis, God bless you -- frankly, it's only a matter of time. I just haven't gotten to you yet. Seriously.
The thing is -- I just wish that sometimes I could have surgery to have my mouth disconnected from the rest of me. That mouth of mine just gets me in trouble again and again and again. Perfectly normal conversations go totally awry because I led myself down the wrong path. Happens at work, happens in my personal life and everywhere else in between. Customers will call with some simple little question and somewhere in the process of over-explaining the answer to their problems, I also manage to let them know they have MORE problems than they were even aware of. Causes more work and heartburn for me but I just can't seem to think before I start flapping my jaws. Same thing in my personal life, I'll be having perfectly standard every day conversation with my boyfriend and then BAM out of nowhere I have to start some brainless trek down the path of "Oh my God how did we get HERE?" and all is just not the same from there. Same thing happens with my friends -- we'll be talking about whatever random topic is for the day and out of nowhere I'm spouting off a WHOLE bunch of unsolicited advice. They don't want to hear my opinion on their lives to THAT extent and frankly -- I don't want to be giving it. But -- I. just. can't. seem. to. stop.
This is a disease. I should have special tags on my car. At the very least I should be forced to wear a Rolling Stones logo'd shirts at ALL times to serve as some sort of warning to the general, unsuspecting public. There's just no way of telling when I'm going to unleash some torrid list of complaints or brutal honesty or misinformation or whatever. I am totally a ticking bomb -- even to myself! This gets to be frustrating. I legitimately believe that a bouchotomy or whatever they would call this procedure, may be in order. I would have it removed and then give it like a sustaining device so that I can use it when the situation warrants it. But if I actually had to re-attach my mouth in order to use it? Well, this would involve a thinking process that MAY allow me to take the needed time to actually consider what would be coming out of it once it was attached.
No more random babbling aloud about whatever topic comes to my head. No more aggressive opinions on how to live your life, pushed on you without your input being allowed. No more escaped thoughts.
There are many more benefits, but there would of course be some pitfalls too. Some that even I won't publish on the internet! I wouldn't be able to murmur loving words anymore. I wouldn't be able to vocally sympathize with your trials and tribulations. I wouldn't be able to laugh that distinct Heather laugh so you know just how funny your jokes are. And so on.
So, for all the pitfalls of LA BOUCHE, I think I'll keep 'er. Maybe I can just start trying to train her and go from there?
All for now -- kisses to all 3 of my readers!
HP
And welcome to Monday! I hate Mondays but at least they go by kinda fast...
Here a few random things that have ALREADY happened across my radar today. First of all, you know how sometimes you're driving behind someone in a frou frou car and they are driving like SHIT and you're thinking -- dude, WHY did you spend all of that money on that car and not invest something into learning how to drive?! Well, today I learned that the answer MAY be -- it's not their car! Through a series of events that (surprise!) were surrounded by me being too messed up to get my own car, I wound up at S's house yesterday without my car. Luckily, he has multiple cars to choose from, so I knew I had transportation home. Problem was that only car with gas in it was the Jag. I am not comfortable driving someone else's car period much less driving it when the person who OWNS the car isn't in it too MUCH LESS when I cannot really see over the steering wheel. That, from what I vaguely recall from drivers ed, is one of the fundamental things about driving -- the ability to see over the wheel and to the road beyond. Freaky! I drove like a grandma -- not only because I was driving so slow for fear of hurting the car but also because I had to sit on the edge of my seat trying to hoist up over the steering wheel. So, the next time you're cussing out that guy driving weird and poorly in his Beemer, just remember: he may have a crappy Kia at home but had to borrow his girlfriend's car! Give that guy a break and DON'T flick him, just this one time!
And speaking of girlfriends... Super funny thing happened to my friend. Well, okay I thought it was super funny and it's my blog so there you go. If y'all don't think it's that funny, go get your own blog and bitch about my unfunny stuff. Lord knows there's enough unfunny stuff in my previous entries to warrant a complaint!! Anyhoo -- friend's been dating the same guy for about a month or so now. And as legend has it, he apparently snuggled in late Friday and asked her to make it official -- let him start saying she was HIS GIRL! His girl? I had to have this phrase repeated a couple of times as I hadn't heard anyone say it since, I don't know, HIGH SCHOOL! I can't imagine anyone saying that to me without knowing that they would be verbally assaulted. What? I have been giving the booty away all this time while I was UNOFFICIALLY your girl? Does that mean you've been auditioning other girls? Do they give you blowjobs too? Are they girls in training? Sitting and warming up on the backburner? Does "official girl" status entitle me to any additional perks? Is that like making it through the first 90 days of your new job? I'm no longer on probation and I get to have PMS and a full range of emotions now??
Crazy stuff and I could rant for a few more minutes about that but my time before work draws to a close and I have to go deal with the turban of hair on my head and try to make my face worth looking at... I will say this: there's NOTHING wrong with having "the talk" about where you stand and verifying that the other person wants to be exclusive and all that, but "my girl"??
To be taken with a grain of salt, since my boyfriend has officially dubbed me -- along with all of his former girlfriends I'm sure -- his ho. So, maybe being "my girl" wouldn't be so cheesy after that! Nah. Might as well own up to my ho-dom!
But I'm forever YOUR girl!
HP
Here a few random things that have ALREADY happened across my radar today. First of all, you know how sometimes you're driving behind someone in a frou frou car and they are driving like SHIT and you're thinking -- dude, WHY did you spend all of that money on that car and not invest something into learning how to drive?! Well, today I learned that the answer MAY be -- it's not their car! Through a series of events that (surprise!) were surrounded by me being too messed up to get my own car, I wound up at S's house yesterday without my car. Luckily, he has multiple cars to choose from, so I knew I had transportation home. Problem was that only car with gas in it was the Jag. I am not comfortable driving someone else's car period much less driving it when the person who OWNS the car isn't in it too MUCH LESS when I cannot really see over the steering wheel. That, from what I vaguely recall from drivers ed, is one of the fundamental things about driving -- the ability to see over the wheel and to the road beyond. Freaky! I drove like a grandma -- not only because I was driving so slow for fear of hurting the car but also because I had to sit on the edge of my seat trying to hoist up over the steering wheel. So, the next time you're cussing out that guy driving weird and poorly in his Beemer, just remember: he may have a crappy Kia at home but had to borrow his girlfriend's car! Give that guy a break and DON'T flick him, just this one time!
And speaking of girlfriends... Super funny thing happened to my friend. Well, okay I thought it was super funny and it's my blog so there you go. If y'all don't think it's that funny, go get your own blog and bitch about my unfunny stuff. Lord knows there's enough unfunny stuff in my previous entries to warrant a complaint!! Anyhoo -- friend's been dating the same guy for about a month or so now. And as legend has it, he apparently snuggled in late Friday and asked her to make it official -- let him start saying she was HIS GIRL! His girl? I had to have this phrase repeated a couple of times as I hadn't heard anyone say it since, I don't know, HIGH SCHOOL! I can't imagine anyone saying that to me without knowing that they would be verbally assaulted. What? I have been giving the booty away all this time while I was UNOFFICIALLY your girl? Does that mean you've been auditioning other girls? Do they give you blowjobs too? Are they girls in training? Sitting and warming up on the backburner? Does "official girl" status entitle me to any additional perks? Is that like making it through the first 90 days of your new job? I'm no longer on probation and I get to have PMS and a full range of emotions now??
Crazy stuff and I could rant for a few more minutes about that but my time before work draws to a close and I have to go deal with the turban of hair on my head and try to make my face worth looking at... I will say this: there's NOTHING wrong with having "the talk" about where you stand and verifying that the other person wants to be exclusive and all that, but "my girl"??
To be taken with a grain of salt, since my boyfriend has officially dubbed me -- along with all of his former girlfriends I'm sure -- his ho. So, maybe being "my girl" wouldn't be so cheesy after that! Nah. Might as well own up to my ho-dom!
But I'm forever YOUR girl!
HP
Sunday, April 13, 2003
Let me just say, briefly, that the sunshine and..some let's just say relaxation and release have GREATLY improved my mood.
I went down the beach and people watched for a while yesterday with S and that always does a lot to ease me. Watching other people going by and knowing they have their own bs problems just like I do and knowing they care as much about me and mine as I do about them and theirs... I have always had this weird thing where knowing that the universe is HUGE and that I am just a teeny part of it keeps me balanced. Most people look at the stars and it makes them feel small. And it DOES make me feel small, but never in a bad way. It makes me re-gain perspective. I don't need to be the smartest and the funniest and the cutest and just the center all the time. It's okay if the focus is away from me because there's MUCH more than me. I need that. Feeling like just one ant in the ant race does a lot to help me get re-centered.
Potentially annoying the neighbors with loud O's doesn't hurt either, but y'all didn't need to know THAT much -- did you?
Enjoy the sun and take note of the fact that I'm BACK!
Godspeed,
HP
I went down the beach and people watched for a while yesterday with S and that always does a lot to ease me. Watching other people going by and knowing they have their own bs problems just like I do and knowing they care as much about me and mine as I do about them and theirs... I have always had this weird thing where knowing that the universe is HUGE and that I am just a teeny part of it keeps me balanced. Most people look at the stars and it makes them feel small. And it DOES make me feel small, but never in a bad way. It makes me re-gain perspective. I don't need to be the smartest and the funniest and the cutest and just the center all the time. It's okay if the focus is away from me because there's MUCH more than me. I need that. Feeling like just one ant in the ant race does a lot to help me get re-centered.
Potentially annoying the neighbors with loud O's doesn't hurt either, but y'all didn't need to know THAT much -- did you?
Enjoy the sun and take note of the fact that I'm BACK!
Godspeed,
HP
Saturday, April 12, 2003
It's a funny thing about being a "horder". I hold onto stuff FOREVER. I have clothes piled up in my hall now that I not only have never worn but probably never even considered wearing all the time I owned them. And I have closets and drawers and attics filled with crap. And I have volumes and volumes of my journals, horded since I was 8 years old. And I have emails clogging my in box that I won't get rid of and I have letters tucked into various corners of my house that I stumble across from time to time. And all of the poetry I wrote in school. I surround myself with all of these thoughts and memories and objects and when I look at them or read them or touch them or whatever, I get sucked back into that time and place and feeling again. It's a strange feeling -- being the memory keeper. It's not always a position that I relish. Because I have these memories, I remember the bad stuff along with the good. And sometimes, even remembering the GOOD stuff makes me feel bad because it's like... Well, that time was blown, wasn't it? And as much as having those things around me takes me to highs and lows and even mediums, I still won't get rid of it. I like riding those waves, it makes me feel human. Makes me feel both vulnerable and invincible at the same time. Which is weird.
But then again, so am I. ;-)
Ok. Enough online moping (yeah, okay -- I said that the last time, didn't I?) -- gonna go bag up all the discarded clothing and then I'm gonna go take a look at what the world has going on today.
kisses to my drifting readers -- keep the faith! I will be chipper again!
HP
But then again, so am I. ;-)
Ok. Enough online moping (yeah, okay -- I said that the last time, didn't I?) -- gonna go bag up all the discarded clothing and then I'm gonna go take a look at what the world has going on today.
kisses to my drifting readers -- keep the faith! I will be chipper again!
HP
UNfunny stuff... Please disregard
I am not really sure what happens to me that I go through these periodic Eeyore like funks that calls into question everything about me and my place in the universe and my place in the lives of the people I hold dear. I feel as though all of a sudden I've been sucked into some sort of emotional quicksand that I can't seem to struggle out of... Whenever this happens, I examine the wallowing at great length. I don't understand it. There are things about myself that I know empirically to be true and yet when this blue thing starts crawling on me, I just can't shake the feeling that all of the things I have always believed to be true abut myself -- really aren't. That I've been lying to myself all along and that other people have gone along for the ride b/c they are, in effect, good people and don't want to see me hurt. Especially by my own demons. And I do a lot of putting on the glad face and roll along with the punches, but underneath all of that I feel like I am trapped inside of myself watching everything happen through a glass wall. Who AM I? How did I get here? And why don't these people realize that I am not good enough?
Here's what's strange about these mood things. First, not PMS. I'm in tune with the calendar and that's not what's going on. Second, no logical reason for me to suddenly start feeling REALLY crappy about myself all of the time. It's like I just woke up one morning and everything I believed about myself the day before ceased to be true. Like some random Saturday, I'm cute and relatively smart and funny and have my shit together and by Tuesday I'm a collossal mess of dumbness and fat and evil and on and on. And I can't make it stop. Until eventually, it just does. Something shifts in the universe and the stars change positions or whatever and then I just feel like me again. Not a superstar, but content with who I am. It's like the emotional cold (not even the flu b/c there's a shot for that but as we all know -- no cure for the common cold). It starts with the sniffles -- feeling minorly insecure about one minor thing. And then it moves on to the congestion -- the "one thing" leads to two or three. And then the aches -- a vague sense of dread that I am wasting people's time just talking. And then it's ON -- with the emotional equivalent of fever and nausea and the whole gamut just taking over all of my senses. No one knows where it started and no one seems to be able to say the things to me that make it go away. Even *I* know, deep in my bones, that it's ridiculous to be feeling so mopey. After all, if you stop to think about the reason for your existence all the time, then you'd probably be depressed and feeling worthless most of the time.
So, I examine the parts that put me together and how I got to be on this trip and I really do not understand the root cause of my insecurity. Do I blame my mother in some trite Freudian way? Genetics? Life? Me? I'm not above blaming me, if I knew why it was MY fault. Last night, S told me that you can't plant bamboo just anywhere b/c it roots ferociously and you will never get rid of it. That's how I feel about the insecurity -- like it's rooted in me and spreading through me like roots tangling up in my emotional bloodwork system. I just have to get in there and whack it out and wait for the veins to reassemble to their natural state. I know they will. They always do. It's just like waiting for the cold to be over -- you're so sick and miserable that you think you will NEVER feel right again.
And then you do. And so will I. But I think in the meantime, perhaps it's best if I try to limit my blogging in case anyone really IS reading this and becomes mired in their own funk b/c they caught mine, like the cold -- the emotional cold is contagious too. In the interim, I will -- as promised -- run some "reruns".
Pass the mental sudafed,
hp
I am not really sure what happens to me that I go through these periodic Eeyore like funks that calls into question everything about me and my place in the universe and my place in the lives of the people I hold dear. I feel as though all of a sudden I've been sucked into some sort of emotional quicksand that I can't seem to struggle out of... Whenever this happens, I examine the wallowing at great length. I don't understand it. There are things about myself that I know empirically to be true and yet when this blue thing starts crawling on me, I just can't shake the feeling that all of the things I have always believed to be true abut myself -- really aren't. That I've been lying to myself all along and that other people have gone along for the ride b/c they are, in effect, good people and don't want to see me hurt. Especially by my own demons. And I do a lot of putting on the glad face and roll along with the punches, but underneath all of that I feel like I am trapped inside of myself watching everything happen through a glass wall. Who AM I? How did I get here? And why don't these people realize that I am not good enough?
Here's what's strange about these mood things. First, not PMS. I'm in tune with the calendar and that's not what's going on. Second, no logical reason for me to suddenly start feeling REALLY crappy about myself all of the time. It's like I just woke up one morning and everything I believed about myself the day before ceased to be true. Like some random Saturday, I'm cute and relatively smart and funny and have my shit together and by Tuesday I'm a collossal mess of dumbness and fat and evil and on and on. And I can't make it stop. Until eventually, it just does. Something shifts in the universe and the stars change positions or whatever and then I just feel like me again. Not a superstar, but content with who I am. It's like the emotional cold (not even the flu b/c there's a shot for that but as we all know -- no cure for the common cold). It starts with the sniffles -- feeling minorly insecure about one minor thing. And then it moves on to the congestion -- the "one thing" leads to two or three. And then the aches -- a vague sense of dread that I am wasting people's time just talking. And then it's ON -- with the emotional equivalent of fever and nausea and the whole gamut just taking over all of my senses. No one knows where it started and no one seems to be able to say the things to me that make it go away. Even *I* know, deep in my bones, that it's ridiculous to be feeling so mopey. After all, if you stop to think about the reason for your existence all the time, then you'd probably be depressed and feeling worthless most of the time.
So, I examine the parts that put me together and how I got to be on this trip and I really do not understand the root cause of my insecurity. Do I blame my mother in some trite Freudian way? Genetics? Life? Me? I'm not above blaming me, if I knew why it was MY fault. Last night, S told me that you can't plant bamboo just anywhere b/c it roots ferociously and you will never get rid of it. That's how I feel about the insecurity -- like it's rooted in me and spreading through me like roots tangling up in my emotional bloodwork system. I just have to get in there and whack it out and wait for the veins to reassemble to their natural state. I know they will. They always do. It's just like waiting for the cold to be over -- you're so sick and miserable that you think you will NEVER feel right again.
And then you do. And so will I. But I think in the meantime, perhaps it's best if I try to limit my blogging in case anyone really IS reading this and becomes mired in their own funk b/c they caught mine, like the cold -- the emotional cold is contagious too. In the interim, I will -- as promised -- run some "reruns".
Pass the mental sudafed,
hp
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Men are weird. I'm not just saying this because it's TRUE, I'm saying it because... Well, they're weird. The boyfriend species of men in particular, I don't get. Seriously. I get this whole faux jealousy thing b/c I go have drinks with a co-worker after work that I don't even understand. I mean, let's get real. No matter how "wild" anyone thinks I am, I would never cheat on this man. I adore him. He knows this and uses it to tease me relentlessly ALL the time. I let it go. But to pretend jealousy? Over ME? I'm bitter and sarcastic and mean and evil (and let's not forget LUMPY!) most of the time, even if I am that way in a perky way. I don't really see people leaping over tall buildings to want to hang out with me. It's laughable. I mean, doesn't he know?
It's funny too because I was thinking about the relationship "ups and downs" on the way to work today. That tidal flow of happiness I get thinking about him most of the time and how that slows down somewhat during the "low tide" but never really goes away... I was thinking about how I appreciate the tidal waves that much more because of the low tides. How there are so many stupid little things that he says and does that I pocket away to remember and pull them out later and review them... and they just make me happy. He's not one for telling me every minute that he loves me, but I just know that. He will just look over at me sometimes with this goofy look and tell me whatever and I'm just sucked in all over again. If he knew how much I really loved him...
Well, whatever. He doesn't. He doesn't read this crap and lucky for us, huh? ;-)
Kinda poopy today, had customer yelling at me for like 45 minutes and I haven't had THAT since I was in collections and oddly, didn't miss it. Esp when I can't just essentially tell the guy to f-- off. And he was NOT a smart man! Oh well. Made up for it later when I had this absolute GEM of a woman shopping for cars with me (I'm the rate quoter -- well, what if I bought THIS car??) who totally appreciated my sense of humor, which is rare. Normally, I do my Heather Stand-up Comedian cum Insurance Customer Service Girl routine to totally deadpan audience. But she was rolling with the punches and I always like that. Especially since I'm doing bad things with the routine. But I CANNOT help it. I ask them if they have alarm systems and they tell me they have keyless entry and it has a PANIC button. I try to explain that unless they are WATCHING someone steal their car, there's no discount on their insurance. NO ONE ever thinks this is funny, although it amuses the crap out of me! This woman, gem that she is, totally laughed her butt off. I was able to go into my full routine without repercussion. I like it when they're willing to play. Customer services is a suck-ass job when you're a smart ass, I'm not going to lie. People ask what seems like the craziest things but fail to ask the SIMPLEST things and it's mind-boggling.
Although granted, it's only simple because *I* do it all day (that the things seem simple) and I acknowledge that all the time.
Final note: Had yet another epiphany today about how you don't know people until you KNOW them... Random guy at work driving what S would call "compensation" car (that I would actually agree with) -- little red Corvette. Too cliche'd even to comment, but always noticed that he stood outside and smoked out of the car before he left each night. I used to think that was ridiculous. You have this stupid car that is so frou frou to you that you won't even acknowledge your vice in it. How do you avoid the trigger?? But was riding in the elevator at the same time that he was tonight and he happened to mention it was his father-in-law's car who was a former smoker and so therefore, can't smoke in it. So, just goes to show again -- you just don't know people til you KNOW them. I think it's a beautiful aspect of humanity, that even the simplest things we judge people on are more complex than they seem on the surface... Isn't that great??
love y'all, mean it -- especially you dopey S!
HP
ps: Penultimate mood enhancer: ABBA! Why didn't I think of that when the darned rain started??
It's funny too because I was thinking about the relationship "ups and downs" on the way to work today. That tidal flow of happiness I get thinking about him most of the time and how that slows down somewhat during the "low tide" but never really goes away... I was thinking about how I appreciate the tidal waves that much more because of the low tides. How there are so many stupid little things that he says and does that I pocket away to remember and pull them out later and review them... and they just make me happy. He's not one for telling me every minute that he loves me, but I just know that. He will just look over at me sometimes with this goofy look and tell me whatever and I'm just sucked in all over again. If he knew how much I really loved him...
Well, whatever. He doesn't. He doesn't read this crap and lucky for us, huh? ;-)
Kinda poopy today, had customer yelling at me for like 45 minutes and I haven't had THAT since I was in collections and oddly, didn't miss it. Esp when I can't just essentially tell the guy to f-- off. And he was NOT a smart man! Oh well. Made up for it later when I had this absolute GEM of a woman shopping for cars with me (I'm the rate quoter -- well, what if I bought THIS car??) who totally appreciated my sense of humor, which is rare. Normally, I do my Heather Stand-up Comedian cum Insurance Customer Service Girl routine to totally deadpan audience. But she was rolling with the punches and I always like that. Especially since I'm doing bad things with the routine. But I CANNOT help it. I ask them if they have alarm systems and they tell me they have keyless entry and it has a PANIC button. I try to explain that unless they are WATCHING someone steal their car, there's no discount on their insurance. NO ONE ever thinks this is funny, although it amuses the crap out of me! This woman, gem that she is, totally laughed her butt off. I was able to go into my full routine without repercussion. I like it when they're willing to play. Customer services is a suck-ass job when you're a smart ass, I'm not going to lie. People ask what seems like the craziest things but fail to ask the SIMPLEST things and it's mind-boggling.
Although granted, it's only simple because *I* do it all day (that the things seem simple) and I acknowledge that all the time.
Final note: Had yet another epiphany today about how you don't know people until you KNOW them... Random guy at work driving what S would call "compensation" car (that I would actually agree with) -- little red Corvette. Too cliche'd even to comment, but always noticed that he stood outside and smoked out of the car before he left each night. I used to think that was ridiculous. You have this stupid car that is so frou frou to you that you won't even acknowledge your vice in it. How do you avoid the trigger?? But was riding in the elevator at the same time that he was tonight and he happened to mention it was his father-in-law's car who was a former smoker and so therefore, can't smoke in it. So, just goes to show again -- you just don't know people til you KNOW them. I think it's a beautiful aspect of humanity, that even the simplest things we judge people on are more complex than they seem on the surface... Isn't that great??
love y'all, mean it -- especially you dopey S!
HP
ps: Penultimate mood enhancer: ABBA! Why didn't I think of that when the darned rain started??
STUUUUUAAAAART!
So, I'm currently going through one of my periodic times (I almost said periodic periods which would have been funny wouldn't it?) of blue funk I don't think I'm cool enough stuff. This comes in ebbs and tides as most things pertaining to my moods does and it generally abated once I hang aroud people who are even sorrier than me. Sometimes the lows get me to having to hang out at homeless shelters, but you do what you have to do. Anyhoo, I think I was brought to ultimate low this am b/c I started my Spring tanning regime (instituted by the theory that "tan fat looks better than white fat") and was confronted by gorgeous maybe 20 year old with perfect complexion contemplating opening her friggin Slim Fast for breakfast and attempting to co-miserate with my sleepy self that yes, she just woke up 20 minutes ago too. What're you kidding me? I will now spend the next HOUR trying to come close to what she looked like getting out of bed. That's just not right! And I won't be drinking Slim Fast for breakfast, I'll be contemplating scarfing down the leftover Key Lime Pie in my fridge and we won't even talk about the age on THAT because it will require carbon dating, o-kay?? Ugh. So, it's gotten so bad that I now have to start chanting the Stuart What'shislastname-- Small? thing in the mirror -- "because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and gosh darn it people like me".
And you know what's funny? It kinda works. It's not that I instantly start to feel so much better about myself, it's that it is such a ridiculous thing having to remind myself of these common elements that it makes me laugh. And that makes me forget to be so tangled up in myself for just a minute. And while I'm not so tangled I think that lots of people have it WAY worse than me. And my life is pretty good. I have shelter, a pretty damned cool boyfriend, kick-ass friends, a job I don't hate even a little, and I do have food even it does have dubious expiration dates.
It's all good -- and so am I!
love y'all, mean it!
HP
So, I'm currently going through one of my periodic times (I almost said periodic periods which would have been funny wouldn't it?) of blue funk I don't think I'm cool enough stuff. This comes in ebbs and tides as most things pertaining to my moods does and it generally abated once I hang aroud people who are even sorrier than me. Sometimes the lows get me to having to hang out at homeless shelters, but you do what you have to do. Anyhoo, I think I was brought to ultimate low this am b/c I started my Spring tanning regime (instituted by the theory that "tan fat looks better than white fat") and was confronted by gorgeous maybe 20 year old with perfect complexion contemplating opening her friggin Slim Fast for breakfast and attempting to co-miserate with my sleepy self that yes, she just woke up 20 minutes ago too. What're you kidding me? I will now spend the next HOUR trying to come close to what she looked like getting out of bed. That's just not right! And I won't be drinking Slim Fast for breakfast, I'll be contemplating scarfing down the leftover Key Lime Pie in my fridge and we won't even talk about the age on THAT because it will require carbon dating, o-kay?? Ugh. So, it's gotten so bad that I now have to start chanting the Stuart What'shislastname-- Small? thing in the mirror -- "because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and gosh darn it people like me".
And you know what's funny? It kinda works. It's not that I instantly start to feel so much better about myself, it's that it is such a ridiculous thing having to remind myself of these common elements that it makes me laugh. And that makes me forget to be so tangled up in myself for just a minute. And while I'm not so tangled I think that lots of people have it WAY worse than me. And my life is pretty good. I have shelter, a pretty damned cool boyfriend, kick-ass friends, a job I don't hate even a little, and I do have food even it does have dubious expiration dates.
It's all good -- and so am I!
love y'all, mean it!
HP
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Well enough of actual, serious material of GLOBAL note and stuff. Just wanted a little anecdote for the day... Was bullying one of my work friends to try my shampoo stuff and told her it was made by L'Anzaa. I said I think this sounds like the name of one of those guys in those bodice ripping novels... Then it occurred to me to wonder -- what exactly IS a bodice?
According to Webster's: Main Entry: bod·ice
Pronunciation: 'bä-d&s
Function: noun
Etymology: alteration of bodies, plural of 1body
Date: circa 1567
1 : the upper part of a woman's dress
2 archaic : CORSET, STAYS
So, it IS a corset! I didn't know that! Learned something new every day. I mean, it makes sense. But why don't they just call them corset-rippers then? Those Harlequinny books? What's with all the cloak & dagger "bodice" stuff?
Well, whatever. Finished The Nanny Diaries and that was SO great! I haven't had so much emotion involved in a character since... Well, okay I'm a book whore so it was actually the last book I read. I am really trying to restrain myself from picking up another book because my house is a total disaster and I am starting to lose articles of clothing in the black hole that is my bedroom and on and on. But really, I'm just ready to pick up Nanny and read it again! I really enjoy getting into other people's turmoils (those of you who have "benefitted" from my attempted hostile take-over of your lives know this from first-hand experience) -- and Nanny really got me going with all the stuff she went through because of her evil employer, Mrs. X. Pick it up! Read it again & again -- it's much better than Cats!
Speaking of hostile life takeovers -- one friend mentioned that I open up an "Ask Heather" portion of my website, "where those of us who are less emotionally adjusted than you can seek your advice on all that's fair in love and war . . . " I find this amusing, as realistically, anyone that I am more emotionally adjusted than is most likely in a mental home. Still, anyone wanting to Ask Heather can, as usual, email me at insideheathershead@hotmail.com
Well, it's 10:21 which is the time that I usually like to graze inappropriately. Tonight is no exception!
love & kisses & Godspeed!
HP
According to Webster's: Main Entry: bod·ice
Pronunciation: 'bä-d&s
Function: noun
Etymology: alteration of bodies, plural of 1body
Date: circa 1567
1 : the upper part of a woman's dress
2 archaic : CORSET, STAYS
So, it IS a corset! I didn't know that! Learned something new every day. I mean, it makes sense. But why don't they just call them corset-rippers then? Those Harlequinny books? What's with all the cloak & dagger "bodice" stuff?
Well, whatever. Finished The Nanny Diaries and that was SO great! I haven't had so much emotion involved in a character since... Well, okay I'm a book whore so it was actually the last book I read. I am really trying to restrain myself from picking up another book because my house is a total disaster and I am starting to lose articles of clothing in the black hole that is my bedroom and on and on. But really, I'm just ready to pick up Nanny and read it again! I really enjoy getting into other people's turmoils (those of you who have "benefitted" from my attempted hostile take-over of your lives know this from first-hand experience) -- and Nanny really got me going with all the stuff she went through because of her evil employer, Mrs. X. Pick it up! Read it again & again -- it's much better than Cats!
Speaking of hostile life takeovers -- one friend mentioned that I open up an "Ask Heather" portion of my website, "where those of us who are less emotionally adjusted than you can seek your advice on all that's fair in love and war . . . " I find this amusing, as realistically, anyone that I am more emotionally adjusted than is most likely in a mental home. Still, anyone wanting to Ask Heather can, as usual, email me at insideheathershead@hotmail.com
Well, it's 10:21 which is the time that I usually like to graze inappropriately. Tonight is no exception!
love & kisses & Godspeed!
HP
Word is that this whole war thing may be winding to an end... At least the "let's go get Saddam" part may be over. I really need to work on being better informed!
Off to read the news online but if we DID kill Saddam and the war really IS almost over, well I feel like that should be historically documented. And stuff!
Off to read the news online but if we DID kill Saddam and the war really IS almost over, well I feel like that should be historically documented. And stuff!
Oh my GOD! I really need to get a life. And this is all that I'm sucking up space on the internet whining about -- me and my need to get a life! I'm trying to update the look and now I find that I need to learn HTML. Well, I don't need to learn it, but apparently it would help me add a link. Maybe it's off to HTML for Dummies for my next book purchase.
And I do have one small hobby that I have resumed my love affair with (no, not THAT one!) -- reading. Since my lunch bunch has been effectively disintegrated thanks to my job's bizarre scheduling practices, I have resumed being "Book Girl" as one of my former bosses dubbed me in one of his Seinfeldian moments. If you're looking for my nose, you may want to check the book shelf as it's probably lodged into the binding of a book. But, honestly I had forgotten how much I love the escape. Going into other people's heads and thinking the way they do and looking at their slice of the world. Okay, I'm not reading the Dalai Lama (I'm not even sure how to spell the dear man's name) or that Russian guy that starts with a D or Freud or anything -- I'm reading The Nanny Diaries but loving it! But every time I get done with a book that I really get engrossed in, it's like when I was a kid and used to stay too long at the bottom of the deep end of the pool... (Inevitably b/c I was playing treasure hunt with some actually valuable ring I owned and HAD to get it or get my head lopped off -- but I digress...) That feeling that you have when you have been immersed and then :::whoosh::: come up for air and you're gasping for air and you're just feeling kind of dazed and dopey and confused?? You almost miss the immersion but you're happy to be up where the air is again?? That's how books make me feel. I miss the fantasy world but I'm ready to be with people again.
Also, reading makes me think about the process of writing a lot. I am just a rambler and only like to spew out stuff about ME and my views and therefore would be a lousy fiction writer. I mean, yes -- I have the occasional ability to turn a thoughtful phrase but I don't really know how to engross people in my visions. I don't think I spin good illusions. Or something. (By the way, K -- I think I started the "or something" but will be checking the annals of time for verification as I believe you have now claimed it!) Still, I enjoy the catharsis of the writing. Hence, the previous "Heather from the Mountaintop" stuff and prior to that my long-time journalling career and NOW... the BLOG!
I think I'm even more stream of conscious than usual... Funny, that word NEVER looks right.
Godspeed all!
HP
And I do have one small hobby that I have resumed my love affair with (no, not THAT one!) -- reading. Since my lunch bunch has been effectively disintegrated thanks to my job's bizarre scheduling practices, I have resumed being "Book Girl" as one of my former bosses dubbed me in one of his Seinfeldian moments. If you're looking for my nose, you may want to check the book shelf as it's probably lodged into the binding of a book. But, honestly I had forgotten how much I love the escape. Going into other people's heads and thinking the way they do and looking at their slice of the world. Okay, I'm not reading the Dalai Lama (I'm not even sure how to spell the dear man's name) or that Russian guy that starts with a D or Freud or anything -- I'm reading The Nanny Diaries but loving it! But every time I get done with a book that I really get engrossed in, it's like when I was a kid and used to stay too long at the bottom of the deep end of the pool... (Inevitably b/c I was playing treasure hunt with some actually valuable ring I owned and HAD to get it or get my head lopped off -- but I digress...) That feeling that you have when you have been immersed and then :::whoosh::: come up for air and you're gasping for air and you're just feeling kind of dazed and dopey and confused?? You almost miss the immersion but you're happy to be up where the air is again?? That's how books make me feel. I miss the fantasy world but I'm ready to be with people again.
Also, reading makes me think about the process of writing a lot. I am just a rambler and only like to spew out stuff about ME and my views and therefore would be a lousy fiction writer. I mean, yes -- I have the occasional ability to turn a thoughtful phrase but I don't really know how to engross people in my visions. I don't think I spin good illusions. Or something. (By the way, K -- I think I started the "or something" but will be checking the annals of time for verification as I believe you have now claimed it!) Still, I enjoy the catharsis of the writing. Hence, the previous "Heather from the Mountaintop" stuff and prior to that my long-time journalling career and NOW... the BLOG!
I think I'm even more stream of conscious than usual... Funny, that word NEVER looks right.
Godspeed all!
HP
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Ok. Seriously -- I throw a DESPERATE plea to the masses requesting help finding me a hobby and I get ONE response?? The suggestions from the responder (or is it respondOR?) were: lap dancing, pot smoking, dog walking, stamp collecting and as last resort (b/c the writer KNOWS me) -- cooking. Hmm. I'm thinking the only viable suggestion there is lap dancing. But the problem there remains that if I start doing that then we're looking into serious b/f conflict of interest. After all, I can't JUST be lap dancing for him b/c that defeats my purpose of finding OUTSIDE interests. Not to mention, you know, I already do that. Sort of. So there is that.
Cooking is an amusing suggestion and I only don't go along with it because I get home so late that it's not worth doing interesting things from scratch and then potentially having them go a-wry so then I'm still starving only now it's 10:30!
As I look around my disastrous house I'm thinking more and more that I need to develop a CLEANING hobby, followed shortly thereafter by a re-decorating hobby. But these are all practical and therefore boring things. I don't know. I'll keep thinking on it.
In the meantime, learned today that my REAL age is actually 5 years over my ACTUAL age -- largely because of my lack of exercise. One would think that I might want to translate that into a hobby, but one would be wrong. Those things just make me want to eat more Twinkie & Ho-ho's. As long as I'm still fitting through doors without the benefit of lubricant then screw it! Active people are over-rated and are more likely to be injured by weights falling on their heads or by getting hit by a passing car when they're out jogging and stuff. THOSE are the statistics you don't read about and you know why? Because statisticians are ALL skinny people!
Think I'll go have a sandwich and a beer on that note!
kisses all -- write me!
HP
insideheathershead@hotmail.com
Cooking is an amusing suggestion and I only don't go along with it because I get home so late that it's not worth doing interesting things from scratch and then potentially having them go a-wry so then I'm still starving only now it's 10:30!
As I look around my disastrous house I'm thinking more and more that I need to develop a CLEANING hobby, followed shortly thereafter by a re-decorating hobby. But these are all practical and therefore boring things. I don't know. I'll keep thinking on it.
In the meantime, learned today that my REAL age is actually 5 years over my ACTUAL age -- largely because of my lack of exercise. One would think that I might want to translate that into a hobby, but one would be wrong. Those things just make me want to eat more Twinkie & Ho-ho's. As long as I'm still fitting through doors without the benefit of lubricant then screw it! Active people are over-rated and are more likely to be injured by weights falling on their heads or by getting hit by a passing car when they're out jogging and stuff. THOSE are the statistics you don't read about and you know why? Because statisticians are ALL skinny people!
Think I'll go have a sandwich and a beer on that note!
kisses all -- write me!
HP
insideheathershead@hotmail.com
Monday, April 07, 2003
Get your GEEK on!
I'm pathetically into this blogging. I've been thinking about it all day and have already set up a personal email account just for the responses I'm SURE to be flooded with once I get discovered, at long last! A SUPERSTAR! Other people my age are out getting their freak on and here I am -- getting my geek on.
Which brings me to today's thoughts inside my head... Spent most of the weekend at my boyfriend's house (now that I'm worldwide -- ha ha -- should I stop using people's names?)and came home to my empty house on Sunday. It was time for me to go and I always get the feeling that he's itching for the private time -- the time with his "toys" that he can't fully enjoy with me hanging around. (No honey, this is NOT a jab, just a comment!) And every time this happens, I am faced with the knowledge that I teeter dangerously close to being "one of those girls" and it makes me want to develop hobbies and interests and pursuits and STUFF! All those things that well-rounded people are supposed to have. Girls who are NOT, in effect, one of "those girls". So, I am dinking around the internet and discover how easy it really is to BLOG and to just let all of these personal thoughts get blown into cyber-space and I think THIS could be my hobby, my pursuit, my interest, my STUFF! But let's face it, I've always been fascinated by ME, so this is hardly a NEW hobby! So, now I'm thinking I can use this area to start getting y'all idea's about things that maybe I could pursue. Help me get a life and be a well-rounded adult!! Email your suggestions to: insideheathershead@hotmail.com (<--- Here's the aforementioned email account, I was not joking! I'm getting dorkier by the minute. I can feel my breasts turning into pocket protectors!) But I'm serious -- I'm interested in being interested in things, I'm just not interested enough to think of stuff on my own. My hobby of directing people's lives and social activities seems to have ground to a halt. I can't really afford REALLY fun hobbies -- like travelling or collecting diamonds. And while I've wanted to get into wine-tasting, that's just a little too close to being permanent drunk girl for comfort. All interesting and VIABLE suggestions will be posted at this exciting, new shiny blog for your amusement and perusement and other -usements!
Anyways -- that's all for this time. Since I'm sending out the link for the first time tonight I don't want to scare too many people off with scary long postings. Oh wait -- WAY too late for that, huh?
HP -- I can't make the "contact me" button work without handing over some cold hard cash, so here's the address for manual use: insideheathershead@hotmail.com
Also, if you're interested in checking out your IQ score try: http://www.emode.com/ -- was late for work this morning so I could monitor how dumb I am! Yay fun!
Also too! Disregard previous about past columns... Will use old stuff to air re-runs if I ever really get into doing this regularly...Reruns! HA!
I'm pathetically into this blogging. I've been thinking about it all day and have already set up a personal email account just for the responses I'm SURE to be flooded with once I get discovered, at long last! A SUPERSTAR! Other people my age are out getting their freak on and here I am -- getting my geek on.
Which brings me to today's thoughts inside my head... Spent most of the weekend at my boyfriend's house (now that I'm worldwide -- ha ha -- should I stop using people's names?)and came home to my empty house on Sunday. It was time for me to go and I always get the feeling that he's itching for the private time -- the time with his "toys" that he can't fully enjoy with me hanging around. (No honey, this is NOT a jab, just a comment!) And every time this happens, I am faced with the knowledge that I teeter dangerously close to being "one of those girls" and it makes me want to develop hobbies and interests and pursuits and STUFF! All those things that well-rounded people are supposed to have. Girls who are NOT, in effect, one of "those girls". So, I am dinking around the internet and discover how easy it really is to BLOG and to just let all of these personal thoughts get blown into cyber-space and I think THIS could be my hobby, my pursuit, my interest, my STUFF! But let's face it, I've always been fascinated by ME, so this is hardly a NEW hobby! So, now I'm thinking I can use this area to start getting y'all idea's about things that maybe I could pursue. Help me get a life and be a well-rounded adult!! Email your suggestions to: insideheathershead@hotmail.com (<--- Here's the aforementioned email account, I was not joking! I'm getting dorkier by the minute. I can feel my breasts turning into pocket protectors!) But I'm serious -- I'm interested in being interested in things, I'm just not interested enough to think of stuff on my own. My hobby of directing people's lives and social activities seems to have ground to a halt. I can't really afford REALLY fun hobbies -- like travelling or collecting diamonds. And while I've wanted to get into wine-tasting, that's just a little too close to being permanent drunk girl for comfort. All interesting and VIABLE suggestions will be posted at this exciting, new shiny blog for your amusement and perusement and other -usements!
Anyways -- that's all for this time. Since I'm sending out the link for the first time tonight I don't want to scare too many people off with scary long postings. Oh wait -- WAY too late for that, huh?
HP -- I can't make the "contact me" button work without handing over some cold hard cash, so here's the address for manual use: insideheathershead@hotmail.com
Also, if you're interested in checking out your IQ score try: http://www.emode.com/ -- was late for work this morning so I could monitor how dumb I am! Yay fun!
Also too! Disregard previous about past columns... Will use old stuff to air re-runs if I ever really get into doing this regularly...Reruns! HA!
I feel like I should be writing BIG, significant things. My first venture out to cyber space and all I can come up with is "I've never written a letter like this before..." I don't think it's possible to feel more inane. Maybe. If I were still searching for that special someone and I also included something about long walks on the beach and candelit dinners and all that crap. What I wonder is, though, speaking of that stuff... Is that a cliche because people really ARE taking long, romantic walks on the beach and then having leisurely candlelit dinners afterwards? Does the dinner happen before? Because I'm thinking in ALL of my dating history I have not, in fact, actually ever taken said romantic walk on the beach. I've had some drunk strolls that wound up in the lifeguard stand. (Okay, that only happened once but damn it was cool!) But genereally, speaking no one I've ever been romantically involved with has ever said, "Hey honey, what're you doing tonight? Because me, I'm thinking of taking a long romantic stroll on the beach and wondered if you wanted to go?" How did this really get started? Where are all these romantic strollers at?
Well, no point in wondering. Still. I want to walk on the beach. (Said in "But Daddy I want an Oompa Loompa voice"... Veruka Salt, yes?) Romantically! Not just stumbling through the sand the way I normally do. Maybe with a parasol. That would make it more romantic. Well, no because these illeged walks apparently occur at night. Apparently, the beach is COMPLETELY devoid of romance during the day. Probably because you'd wind up noticing your boyfriend staring at some skinny chick in a thong and get in a fight about "what, do you like her butt more than mine, huh?" or he'd catch you looking at some Colin Farrell look alike with that little hint of drool in the corner of your mouth that you can't help and then there'd just be a BIG OLD FIGHT and that's not very romantic is it?
So, no parasol because that would just look silly at night.
Not sure how I got away from my Stardate April blah blah blah techno-inanity intro but I kinda like it. Not even gonna finish my romantic walking ramble because WHO CARES? There are 40 million blogs out there! What's one more? Am I heading for blog fame fortune and cyber cash?
Sure. Why not?
HP
Well, no point in wondering. Still. I want to walk on the beach. (Said in "But Daddy I want an Oompa Loompa voice"... Veruka Salt, yes?) Romantically! Not just stumbling through the sand the way I normally do. Maybe with a parasol. That would make it more romantic. Well, no because these illeged walks apparently occur at night. Apparently, the beach is COMPLETELY devoid of romance during the day. Probably because you'd wind up noticing your boyfriend staring at some skinny chick in a thong and get in a fight about "what, do you like her butt more than mine, huh?" or he'd catch you looking at some Colin Farrell look alike with that little hint of drool in the corner of your mouth that you can't help and then there'd just be a BIG OLD FIGHT and that's not very romantic is it?
So, no parasol because that would just look silly at night.
Not sure how I got away from my Stardate April blah blah blah techno-inanity intro but I kinda like it. Not even gonna finish my romantic walking ramble because WHO CARES? There are 40 million blogs out there! What's one more? Am I heading for blog fame fortune and cyber cash?
Sure. Why not?
HP
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