I wonder if ugly people are really happy when they realize that they actually have some source of talent to draw on or not AS overjoyed as they should be because they don't realize that they're ugly??

Watching too many videos on VH-1 this morning gave me that thought -- that guy that's featured in the Evanessence video, he MUST know how unattractive he is, right? But he's got that cool, growly voice that I like and I can't be alone in that, right?

Well, off to go run around to get ready to go to wedding this afternoon that I don't want to go to... Check this though, last night S went out for sushi with me and two of my "brothers" (I'm an only child but have known these two guys since birth, literally, so they're as close to brothers as I ever will have -- even if we are not close) and their wives... Tonight, he's going to this un-fun side of my family wedding all the way out in BFE (to be followed by a non-drinking, non-smoking, non-dancing reception even further out in BFE), just because I desperately don't want to go with just my parents like I am 10. (For pete's sake, I didn't even get my own damned invitation like I am a grown-up, there's just had "and family" tacked on... I had to get PERMISSION to bring a date!) He hates going to BFE and no one likes other people's family stuff, except for MAYBE if the other person's family is really really cool. Tomorrow night we're going to a friend's to watch the season finale of Six Feet Under, a show he doesn't even regularly watch because he doesn't have HBO and won't come to my house on Sunday nights for whatever reason he won't come... ALL things that I want/need to do and ALL because I asked. I mean, the man has racked up enough boyfriend points to save his ass from MAJOR boyfriend screw-up for a good while to come.

Sure hope he doesn't read this today, though -- there are some things he doesn't need to know! ;-)

xoxo,
HP

The longer I spend blogging and reading other people's blogs (normal people, people who are NOT teenagers that is) -- the more I realize how utterly we are alike in so many ways. Maybe it's just a blogger mindset? Does one blog because their brain is built in such a way that it feels the need to share their ideas with others who may (but usually don't) care? And because our brains our built in this particular way, does this shape lead us to have some of the same ideas and philosophies??

Interesting. I started blogging, not even quite 2 months ago, because I used to send out mass emails to a select group of people sharing interesting little anecdotes about my life and I thought -- wouldn't it be easier just to send them a link to a blog (much like another friend of mine has been doing for a long time) and then they can just poke and prode through my thoughts and my life as often or as little as THEY see fit and I can keep writing as much as I want without having to tone it to a particular audience. Trouble is that I still do tone, there are many things that get left out because I'm not sitting down to amuse or bemuse a SPECIFIC group just more or less sitting down to WRITE. I think the writing was better when it had a target, instead of just a random group. (Posted next will be a copy of one of my previous mass emails) Well, the writing was wittier I think. When I write (mostly) daily I lose a lot of my drive to amuse and bemuse and just wind up pontificating wildly with my wannabe philosopher self. Which again brings me back to this blogging thing: I think a lot of bloggers are wannabe philosophers. We all have this idea that the things we have been through are SO unique and therefore these things give us SUCH a unique perspective on the world that we MUST be heard!! We need to share our views and you should be drinking from the fountain of this knowledge and blessing our holy names! Amen, can I get a witness?!

Got a little carried away, sorry.

Anyways, I'm going to post one of my earlier mass emails -- about mass emails... In order to keep things in some semblance of order, I'll just tag it under here...

"About those mass emails"

Okay -- if you're reading this email it's because you
are part of a select group of people that I call the
Panel to whom I pose random questions and stories
about my life... Should you be no longer interested
in receiving emails of this nature from me please let
me know...

And actually, the above paragraph is specifically why
I am writing. I have known a couple of people who
constantly send me forwarded emails. I have NO
problems with forwards in general (although the
"please forward this to 47 people in your inbox so
that lives can be spared from the atrocious
paper-cutting death monger disease by AOL tracking
your emails" or whatever -- those are just
silly) -- I could use a good laugh as much as the next
gal, Lord knows, and even if you throw a cheesy
friendship poem my way I am fairly undaunted. Here is
my concern: how did we get to a point in society
where forwards are the only means of sending email to
people you are supposed to be friends with?? In some
cases, the only means of contact. I have received
"I'm happy you're my friend" forwards from folks that
don't even know what color my hair is this week. How
is this possible?? Couldn't tell you what I do for a
living or even know that I was once married...

Let me assure you, Gentle Readers, that I have TRIED
to contact these people at minimum of sending them
replies to their forwards asking them how they are
doing, what they are doing, who they are doing, etc.
No response. None. Until a day or two later, in one
particular case, I got a "funny e-greeting" that I had
to list 5 of my friends and THEIR email addresses so
that the person could win a prize. What, are you
kidding me? So you can add them to YOUR forward list?


So my question is this: at what point would it become
completely rude to simply block these parties from
emailing me at all?? I have tried sending replies
asking for more personal info and having gotten no
answer so I am going to assume the worst and decide
that their email account has been taken over by some
mail forwarding demon whose only desire is to flood my
inbox with cheesy pranks and poems and prayers. It's
best to keep the demons at bay with whatever method
possible, yes?

So -- send your jokes and poems -- I swear I won't
block you, but PLEASE let me know how YOU are doing
sometimes and ask me how I am doing, because otherwise
why bother to make the half-ass effort?!

kisses,
Heather

Ps: I'm afraid that I have no sinister tales from the
world of No Sex in the City -- hopefully I can drudge
up some rejection this weekend in order to provide
y'all some more amusement... At least I'm still
keeping that positive mental attitude, eh? =)

***back to 5/31/03 >>> Funny thing about reading my old Panel emails, most of the reason that I had "material" was because I was single and getting rejected and dejected on a fairly regular basis. Frankly, I don't think even I, in my mad desire for more and more attention, would trade S for the chance to have material again. I'll have to start stealing other people's rejection stories to share... Have any you want to send? Then email me at the link above, damnit!! ;-)***

So I'm reading this book called Girl Anatomy, and it's kinda freaking me out because it's like I wrote it. The reason this is a source of concern for me is because if I am reading something that SOMEONE else wrote and it sounds like me, then I am more likely than not lacking in anything resembling that remotely resembles originality. That's a bummer! AND that also means that I can now NOT write this book because this other darned chick already wrote it. The main character's the wrong age, though -- nothing interesting happens when you're 24 and you definitely do NOT have this much perspective and insight at that age. (If you happened to be a 24-year-old who has stumbled onto my blog and feel differently, call me in 6 years and tell me that you STILL think you had perspective and insight as a 24 year old.... In fact, look back to 6 years ago: didn't you think you knew it all then?? And aren't you KICKING yourself about all the stuff you did?? Same thing, only worse when you hit 30.)

Funny sidebar -- I was talking to good friend of mine and she was asking if I had any grey hair yet. I do, but it's just in this one patch in the front of my head, kinda like a witch's stripe (it's the bane of my hairdressers coloring experience) -- she pointed out that S has a similar spot on his head. She said it was like we were "marked" for each other. That's kind of disturbing, isn't it?

And final thought... As I was skipping out of work during daylight hours again today, I was thinking that the main reason I like my job is that as soon as I leave my desk and start the trek towards my car I forget altogether about my job. All the little things throughout the day that made me bitch to myself out loud and bang my head on my desk and loudly grind my teeth are dissipated into the work air. I do not take them home with me, I do not fester over them. Maybe enough to occasionally get an anecdote together for the 3 of y'all, but that's about it. And for some reason this reminded me of one of my favorite quotes, which is "the most beautiful thing about the world is, of course, the world itself."

hugs and kisses all --
HP

Note to self: never have children. They do not get sarcasm and that just makes me more sarcastic around them. I don't even realize I'm doing it until I feel the sarcasm dribbling on my chin.

Spent the early evening (EARLY evening, thank you scheduling Gods for allowing me to see daylight even if only briefly) with my godson's grandkids and it was very weird. I was responsible for leading the oldest grandkid away from his dinner (boy, I can't even resist flirting with the 2 year olds for pity's sake) and it was all I could do to get him back. It seems I played the Bob the Builder music when I shouldn't have. I tried to explain that Bob was having dinner and waiting for Baby to have HIS dinner done too, but I was told "Heather, that doesn't work". So that devolved into -- what? You don't want to eat? Suddenly you're too good for food? What's up with that??

Oddly, this ghetto logic didn't work either.

Luckily, seeing DAD eat worked.

They were trying to talk me into a life filled with babies and husband and dog, but I told them they were going to have to work on making it sound more appealing -- no guilty pleasure Sorority Life? What's up with THAT?

Maybe in two weeks, huh S?
HP

I am so tired of this blog not ever looking like it's supposed to that I am seriously thinking of just starting from scratch. I want cute, orderly blog stuff. I want archives that are PROPER. Is this too much to ask? Apparently. I follow the destructions on how to fix these things and they don't work. They just want money! Maybe I will just give them the darned money and try it again.

That's all -- no real thoughts. I was just looking at the blog from the outside instead of the inside (it's hard to explain but what I see doesn't look like what YOU see) <--- It's all about perspective baby! Anyway, I digress -- I just wanted to say that I don't like how it looks from the outside so I do know that it's not pretty, for those of you happening by, but I do not know how to fix it. So, I guess I'll fix it like I fix everything else: I will throw money on it!

Maybe.

Back to my usual long winded paragraphs soon!
HP

Sometimes I just want to re-name my blog "inside Heather's frustration w/S" but then there are other times that it should also aptly be called "inside Heather's adoration of S" -- it just depends on the day and sometimes, it depends on the thing he did or said.

Let me tell you a story. My godmother's former father-in-law (long story on why she's still close to him) lives next door. Everyone under the age of 60 calls him Papaw. He's 87 or more. He's been dating the same woman, Pauline, since the early 90's at least. She's probably 85. Apparently, they get on well together although she doesn't win friends and influence people on too many levels. For one thing, she's never had children so she's no good with them -- a bane to my godmother who adores her grandchildren. This is besides the point. Pauline and Papaw's relationship consists of a couple of things -- they travel together occasionally and every night at 5pm sharp they meet for dinner. That's it. They are both independent people of their own means and stubborn and apparently, marriage just isn't on the track for them. They'll never live together (especially now that she's moved into Westminster Canterbury and he refuses to go even though he's practically blind) and probably aren't in each other's wills. Most of their major decisions in life are factored in by weighing other people's thoughts and opinions, not each others.

And thus we have Heather's current life with S. Changed his whole house around without assistance because "you wouldn't have liked everything I did and I would have had to listen to it". Hm. Okay, that wasn't nice. And now he's heading off to retail therapy in DC where he promised to take me, just so he can go poke around. Ouch. THAT is frustrating, because there is no way for me to fully express that that hurts my feelings without sounding like a whiner. I AM a whiner and I hate that, but it's my fate. You have to work with what you're given.

I digress -- let me just say this (and no, I'm not just saying this because he stops by the blog sometimes): at all times I love the man to pieces, I really do. He makes me happy on a regular basis and spoils me pretty much rotten just as often; spoils me with the little things which are so much more important to me. He doesn't always "get" me, but to his credit he tries to -- most of the time. Some things he admits to not understanding and not even caring that he doesn't understand. Retail therapy without me is probably one of those things. But I ask you, gentle readers, is it so wrong to want some evidence that he wants me as part of his life, rather than just a satellite around it?

I'll leave with that thought for the day because the first day of work after 3 days off is looming over my head and it's going to be INSANE busy! Must go prepare by practicing my chipper "thanks for calling and waiting to speak with me for 20 minutes" voice. ;-)

HP

Holiday Weekend Thoughts

I actually have a lot of random things I feel like spewing about... In no particular order, first I guess is the end of this holiday weekend. There's always a certain amount of near agony for me whenever a three day weekend approaches. Or any sort of assumed event weekend. I always think that I should be doing great, exciting things. Or at least eating lots of grilled food and drinking lots of beer. (Which I DID get to do, somewhat, thanks to my friend throwing a barbecue and inviting -- yay!) I just feel like I should be out doing "things", "things" that will make me more interesting and make me feel more fulfilled as a person. That never happens. I'm not sure why I attach such importance to having an extra day off of work, but for some reason I do. I'm trying to work on relaxing and just letting things go, and I hope I'm getting better. Saturday I had some people over to try to hang out and play games and get rid of some of my excess alcohol, neither one of which was terribly successful. There's always someone who doesn't like at least one game you want to play and there was no where NEAR enough alcohol consumed, which means I'm still inundated with beer and liquor. Further proof that I do NOT party like a rock star when I am home alone, contrary to popular belief, and that my friends are WIMPS who can't handle their liquor! ;-)

Sunday I went to the barbecue and then we were supposed to go see a comedian at a new club down at the beach that doesn't have its liquor license! For pity's sake, I can't think even the funniest person is funny without a buzz on if I had to pay $10 to see them! So, we went over to a friend of S's and watched Mulholland Drive. I was not sober when I saw this film and I'm STILL not sure if that helped or not. I'm really hoping that someday someone can explain this movie to me without hurting my head and/or scaring the crap out of me -- because both of those things were going on then. (Of course, there is ALWAYS the heightened experience when I watch scary movies with S because I never really know when he's going to jump at me and "BAH!", so it's kind of like 3-D terror) I spent all of last night dreaming about the damned movie -- I kept waking up thinking I had finally figured out WHAT the point was, but then it would fade away again. It made me long to see Dumb & Dumberer, a movie whose plot I think I can figure out no matter WHAT condition I'm in when I don't see it...

Today I shopped for a dress to wear to a wedding that I don't really want to go to, but it's a family obligation thing. That's always a debilitating experience, as any regular readers (the Tenacious Trio I like to call y'all!) can attest. I know I need to care about my weight and work out and stuff, but have you seen how comfy my couch is? And there was a Trading Spaces marathon on TLC. Who could resist all of that? Especially when they have tostitos and cheese dip for dinner to go along with it?? I found a dress but I look like someone's mom in it. Sad. I used to be cute and sassy and stuff. Now I still am, but just in a Betty Crocker kind of way, I guess...

LOVE LETTERS

The other thing that my weekend entailed was watching Pretty Woman for the 19th billion time. It's these kind of movies that makes me feel sorry for men, especially for S. Yes, the movie is about a hooker and it's not really romantic when you look at it from that perspective, but who does? Cynics! Which while I play one on tv, I am not. Sometimes, I feel like Anne Frank -- in spite of everything, I still believe people are good at heart... In spite of everything, I still believe in the fairy tale. I mean, I've been there and done that and had the really bad marriage scars to prove it. (I saw a really cute card today that said something like I may have emotional baggage, but at least it's a cute, matching set) I think it's because I'm such a romantic and an optimist underneath ALL of the layers of bullshit that I have managed to move past the marriage incident. While I haven't split personalities (and now, I'm Betty -- a naive starlet arriving in Hollywood) I don't associate any of that stuff with anything that is part of my life. Frankly, that is another very long, VERY boring, very psychoanalytical blog that we won't get into. But I have seen SO many "boy sweeps girl off her feet" movies that I have just come to believe that that's the way it should be. And even though I bear witness to it, time and time again, I still believe it.

And that's why I think I have so many mixed feelings when it comes to marriage. I want the fairy tale, I want to be with that man who is going to sweep me off my feet every day but the reality is that there's too much that goes into the daily grind that it's not possible to expect that of anyone. I don't think he could expect it from me, after all. And that's where I get cold feet, I think, because I have a hard time imagining the compromise between the two working out -- the romance and the practicality -- and not feeling like someone's going to wind up being terribly disappointed. After all, I get pretty mired in the details and I can be crabby and naggy and all the other negative stuff. I know I have a lot of good qualities too, but frankly -- I'm pms'ing now AND I'm trying to quit smoking slowly and I'm jonesing for nicotine like BAD and all of these things lead to me feeling negative about myself in general.

Anyways -- let me just say this... I don't always get the sweep me off my feet stuff with S, but he does continue to surprise me, even in the littlest things and that helps keep my feet warm.

I'm off for some much needed rest -- I imagine y'all need a nap too if you've read THIS far!
HP

I really don't understand what happened to our society. Why even the smallest acts of personal service or doing little things for NO reason have just completely dissipated. I get frustrated over this every single time I go shopping, but especially grocery shopping. There is little that resembles customer service, and you're lucky if they even bag your groceries decently. In fact, I think this is why there's been such an advent of this "check your own damned self out" things in stores -- that is just one less area where you have to be dealt with as a customer. "We just want your money, ma'am -- and even if you discontinue shopping here because we treat you so shabbily it doesn't matter. Everyone else will continue to shop here and even though they will bitch about the service too, they'd rather go around the corner than travel any distance to get real service." Of course, that distance would have to be travelled back in TIME so that may be why so few are willing to go there!!

And then it's the little things... I live in a townhouse so share some common lawn with two of my neighbors. I try to mow as soon as you can't see the door anymore and will ALWAYS mow as much as their little section as seems decent. My neighbors to the right do not reciprocate this. They do only their little section and NOTHING beyond that, as if anything else would just clog their lawnmower.

And in both of these circumstance, the reason that these things are done so shoddily is because they are being handled by teenagers. And I'm only 30 and yet here I am ALREADY bitching about those damned teenagers. The disrespect and the lack of anything resembling common courtesy... (The cashier at the grocery store was YELLING at the bagger because they were trying to talk and he was mumbling. Here's a thought -- how about talking to the cus-to-mers? I was bowled over with the irony that below her name on the nametag it said "I'm here to serve YOU!" Yeah, right) But I think the reason I'm already developing bitterness about this is because while I was typical, surly teenager -- I was not disrespectful to complete strangers and I DID take care of the shared part of my neighbor's lawn when I was on lawn duty. It was instilled in me that that was the right thing to do, because they did it for us. It was just that simple. And since I lack the ambition needed to take over the world, then THIS is the generation that's going to be responsible for me. Bag your owned damned groceries and take care of your own darned lawn, I'm busy. And you're just annoying anyways...

Just wanted to fire that off briefly -- having what S is calling an "Eminem get-together" because to-night, I'm cleaning out my CLOSET! Of liquor! And my frig of beer!

Bet y'all wish you had my address you underaged teenagers!
HP

When you are calling any call center (and here's how to identify those numbers, they start with 800,866,877,888 and are generally "toll-free") here are some hints if you want to mar the otherwise good day of your customer service representative:

In no particular order:

1. Start talking to the representative about your particular problem without giving any of your account information. Ask really specific questions and then get huffy when they can't be answered without your account information. Request to be transferred to a manager.

2. Expect things that are above and beyond the usual role of "person answering the phone, level 1" and mention repeatedly how long you have been doing business with their particular company. Explain that while you like the company itself, you don't particularly care about the representative answering the phone and bearing the brunt of your insults because they are just "person answering the phone, level 1". Request to be transferred to a manager.

3. Remove anything resembling a sense of humor before contacting the company. Should the person you are talking to actually possess a sense of humor, Request to be transferred to a manager. (The manager will NOT have a sense of humor, thus alleviating the problem.)

4. Blame the representative for anything that causes you to have to pay more than what you expected to be your "fair share" (which is roughly about 3 cents) and ask how much other people have to pay for the same item. Refuse to listen to anything that remotely holds YOU accountable for why your things cost more, Request to be transferred to a manager.

5. Talk to other people in the room while you are on the phone with the customer service person. Have lengthy conversations, and have them loudly. You're the customer, that voice on the line is merely there to service you and that may mean having to listen to you arguing with your wife that you are being a tad too friendly and maybe flirting with the representative. You probably ARE flirting with the representative. Your wife will request to be transferred to a manager.

6. Ask for information and advice about products and services that you have no intentions of using or buying. Ask really lengthy, nit-picky questions. If you don't get the answers you want, you should (all together now) Request to be transferred to a manager.

7. Do not update information. Do not verify information. What is this a quiz show? Are we dating? Why do they need all of this information?! Request to be transferred to a manager.

8. Call from a cell phone with a really bad signal and yell all of your answers to questions. Deny knowledge that there is a problem with the phone. When bad cell connection is cut off and you have to call back because of it, call back and get angry with innocent new person answering the phone because now you have to :::huff::: start ALL over again! Request to be transferred to a manager.

9. Have other people who are not authorized to discuss your personal business call and ask for information. When it is explained that in order to protect YOUR privacy we can't release information to just any Joe off the street, have that person request to be transferred to a manager.

10. And finally (because I'm running out of stuff) when in doubt, holding a screaming baby next to the telephone receiver is always a great way to mar anyone's day -- and that peson probably made your baby cry with their dumb answers to your well-thought out questions anyways! REQUEST TO BE TRANSFERRED TO A MANAGER!

***** Funny, I actually had a good day today but just felt like cooking up this list. *********

Toodles,
HP

One of my favorite things in life is old friends. I have friends that I have known for a LONG time, which is saying a lot considering that I am only 30 and I have known some of my friends for 15 years. And tonight, one of my oldest friends is in town so we hung out and did some catch up. It's very relaxing being with a man who has known me that long (we met when I was in the 8th grade) -- there is none of that bullshit stuff that comes up with "real" men. I don't have to downplay my melodramatic tendencies or my self-centeredness or my complete lack of ambition -- he does not care, we are just friends. And it's not that my boyfriend cares about these things, per se, but they do have SOME impact on him so there's some level of trying to downplay these kinds of things. (Although, my feeling is that he would strongly disagree with the level of downplaying, but what he doesn't know doesn't hurt) I just have a constant need to impress the men in my life, particularly S, but this never seems to be an issue with my friend. There's just a level that you get to in long-term friendships that is a beautiful thing. A. comes to town and it's like he never left, we just totally pick right up from where we left off. We talk about everything and nothing -- in great lengths. We can speak in rember when's? and the memories totally make sense. It's nice having that with someone. I don't do well with men in general (which is odd, because a lot of my friends are men), so it's always nice to know that I have at least ONE relationship with a man that I haven't completely screwed up by being me.

Hmmm... I'm instant messaging with my g/f who said that she's been reading my blog and I've been "questioning myself a lot lately" -- thanks to everyone for riding along on that particular journey. The short version is that I live with a lot of fear in my personal life -- fear of being hurt, fear of being stagnant -- and that makes me question everything. For the long version, you'll have to wait for the book or the next explanatory blog! ;-)

HP

I hate going to the grocery store. Just came home from my ambitious attempt to take care of business BEFORE going to work (BEFORE having a full cup of java, even) and I've spent $44 and I don't know why. Employees in the store must always think I am stoned when I go shopping, because I just look so dazed and confused. I have no concept of what I am supposed to be plucking off the shelves and taking home with me in order for me to feel like I have food in my house. So, I just randomly put things in the cart and hope that I take the time to do something with most of them. The problem with my life is that I do not have time to really fix GOOD things to eat and therefore I wind up eating a lot of crap (Doritos for dinner, anyone?) and have no idea how to cook things. The theory is just gone from me. I used to shop and have things on hand and usually had a base set of things to cook with so all I would need is to add a little this or that. Not anymore. My work schedule which runs my life has eliminated my ability to have anything remotely resembling dinner on any regular basis. When people offer me home-cooked goodies it is literally a restraint not to foam at the mouth.

And I have to marvel at people's abilities to care enough about food to prepare it on a regular basis. It's not that I "forget" to eat, one good look at my hips will tell you otherwise, it's that the fact that I HAVE to eat is very much a nuisance to me. I like a lot of things about food and eating and even some cooking things I have been known to enjoy, but the fact that I can't do those things when I enjoy doing them versus all the damned time so I can live, that is annoying to me. I am, unfortunately, a really good candidate for becoming addicted to any sort of drug where you don't eat for days. I read these warning stories about women who got addicted to such and such drug and they almost died because they didn't eat for days, and I think there's the drug for me! Have a lot of energy AND not have to eat? I'm in favor of that! Please do not try to stage an internet intervention, I do not even know what a crack pipe would look like, okay?


I certainly have made up for taking Monday off by clogging the blog (ha -- blog clog) with randomness in the last 12 hours, eh?
HP

He actually said, "why don't you go blog for a while and maybe you'll feel better."

Here I am, starting things in the middle -- as usual. Let me spell this out for those readers who do not happen to know that HEATHER is a wo-man's name. I am a WO-MAN. With all of the nuances that that word encompasses. I get angry over little things and I let big things go for the greater good. I cry over nothing and I laugh over something. I am a complete and total slave to the hormone monster and frankly...? I like it. I do not want to be anything other than a woman. I LIKE having all of the emotions and I like that I can express them whenever I want. I deserve to be treated with respect for harboring all of this crap in my body for the simple reason that the fact that I DO harbor all this stuff may someday enable me to sustain a life, pal. And yeah, I am a little bitter about it. So what? My emotions run the gamut from A to Z and sometimes they make me do and say crazy things and I like that, too. I am woman and I am also not like any woman anyone else is EVER going to meet -- not even you, S.

I say what I think when I think. I am NOT afraid to put myself out there, even to someone who has previously taken my heart and eaten it for breakfast. I am not afraid of that because I am not afraid of love, and I love that man. And he loves me, though I daresay he asks himself why on a somewhat regular basis. I don't even know why *I* love me, sometimes, but I accept it because damn it I am friggin cool. I know that I do not want to be anyone else. For all of my roiling temperment, and my cruel to be kind views and my flakiness -- I am the bomb. When you are in my heart, you are there for good and I will never do anything to let you down and you better BELIEVE that that kind of good stuff does NOT grow on trees!

Did I mention that I am also self-righteous? And that's a cool thing too. Why shouldn't I be? Who else is going to be standing up for me and be my number one fan if I don't even believe in me? Which I know I don't always do. But who cares? I'm allowed to be self-doubting and I'm allowed to be insecure and I'll tell you why -- because I am not any of those things all of the damned time. And when I say I need a hand, well damn -- that's not something that my stupid pride will let me do very often, so just give me your hand and hold on! I don't ask for help unless I really need it.

And what about ALL OVER THE PAGE with my stream of conciousness! Does any of this make sense? No WAY! Do I care? Not even a little bit! You loyal 3 readers, you're going to keep coming back for more. And do you know why? Because you can't help it -- you need to know what is this crazy broad going to say next? And that my friends is the secret to that Heather thing -- I do not even know what I am going to say next.

You know what -- I DO feel better, but I swear to God if he offers to bring me sushi or ice cream, I am not going to be held responsible for my actions...
KISSES!
hp

Had to leave work early today due to some kind of bizarre alien that has decided to inhabit my body... I'm still trying to make it understand that it needs to leave, but that's beside the point. The interesting aspect was when I tried to go to our "clinic" to check out, I was asked if it were IMPOSSIBLE for me to continue working in my condition. What kind of question is that?? Technically, no -- my fingers still work to type, my hearing is still in order and I can see. There is reasonable doubt about my NEED to leave work and I have been found guilty. (In part by my own conscience, even though I legitimately feel like crap.) Where is the compassion? There is a being struggling in my stomach that I may be able to make a million off of, if I could just get those damned Enquirer people to return my phone calls, and I have to explain this? I have to say that it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to work because my tumbly is achy? That's just wrong. So, I tried to stick it out, but after causing an abnormality on the Richter scale because of some of my burps and STILL not being able to release the pain, I gave up. Yes, I said -- it IS impossible for me to work.

And as it turns out, also impossible for me to finish typing this bl...

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and it's like I'm looking for something. I spend the rest of the day looking for it. Looking for me, I think. I don't see me in this house and I don't see me in the world around. It's like that old joke -- I'm trying to find myself, have you seen me anywhere? Nothing's looks right or feels right or tastes right. And I just have to wait until the feeling dissipates and maybe the Matrix has taken over my brain again so I'm buying into the belief that I'm happy in my universe. But today is not one of those days. I blame the weather, I guess. I was looking forward to doing several outdoors type things this weekend (beer fest and an art show) and the weather has decided otherwise for me. It sucks. I'm not that creative.

Ok. Enough whining. I create my own happiness, I am the master of my domain. I rule me. I don't want to be mopey and I don't want to be crabby and irritated and ready to poke people with sharp objects. I want to be in a good mood. I will be in a good mood. I'm not going to let the atmospheric conditions (including grumpy boyfriends!) define who I am. It's just that simple. My desired state is happiness and that is what I am going to set out to do. Make myself happy. Non-chemically even!

HP

If you haven't seen the Matrix Reloaded... Stop!

I'm no film reviewer and I'm not going to try to pretend to be one... And my feelings are still pretty mixed on the movie. (Finally saw it late last night.) My initial thought was "boy, those Wachowski Brothers got a lot more money to do this one than the last and they're showing it!" I think the thing that stood out the most for me was the way the movie was so overt in its themes this time. The original had a lot more subtlety in its symbolism. Its not that the idea isn't interesting -- nothing is real, its just a figment of the machine's imaginations. I mean how old is this? It goes back to the ancient Chinese philosopher, dreaming he was a butterfly... (If you don't know the rest of that one, feel free to drop me a line.) This theory was just really finely examined in this movie -- loudly examined more like it. LOOK, we're exploring the Trinity! There are 3 movies! There are 3 main characters. LOOK the man we call The One is in love with a woman named TRIN-I-TYYYY. Get it? Trin-i-ty. We got paid 3 million dollars for the first hour we were here! Lots and lots of 3's!

And while some of the fight scenes were pretty amazing, they don't really make a whole lot of sense when you think about the fact that Neo can fly now. Why hang out and fight these guys when you can just take off? And why not tell Trinity WHY you don't want her to go back into the Matrix with you? She's a woman, for pity's sake, do you think she is going to listen to you without any explanation?? Let's get serious! And why was that Smith gone human guy so slow in trying to take action to kill Neo? Couldn't he have just turned all of the inhabitants of Zion into more Smiths? What's the big deal? And how does he have all these powers in the matrix if the matrix doesn't acknowledge that he exists? AND if he could get all the way to the ship to give Neo his earpiece, why did he need to turn into a human in the first place? If he can just waltz right up to the ship without anything happening seems to me that would be a lot less painful than getting sucked through telephone wires. But maybe that's just me. And then: WHY is Zion so damned ugly? All those friggin people living beneath the earth and they can't even hang some tapestries or something? And seems to me there should be LOTS of space at the center of the Earth, even if they do have to get all close to the core where its warm, why are they all in that one tiny space? Seems to me someone would have gotten adventurous and explored and little bit further round. Branched out on their own a little. Because that "choice" that they make to free their minds and realize nothing is real -- look at the cost! You're living underground in an apartment the size of your current matrix-sized walk-in closet. With no color. Apparently no one claustrophobic made the choice to open THEIR mind because they would've gone postal down in there!

That's all on The Matrix Reloaded -- we now return to your regularly scheduled, non-movie spoiling blog!
HP

I think one of the things that I am still working on in my adult life and "maturing up" is the notion that if I am at home alone on a weekend night that this does not mean that I am a failure as a social human being. I have not achieved this state of grace. EVEN when the alternative is to spend time with grumpy boyfriend, this somehow seems more appealing to me than sitting at home and watching a movie and finding my living room floor... [Sidebar: my new project is trying to organize ALL of my pictures so that I can finally put them in order in a photo album, instead of this big huge jumbled mess of a shoebox.] Or I could go out and hang out with my other friends, except that I'm so far off the radar with most of my other friends that it seems odd to call them and ask them to do something late on a Saturday. Or I could go grocery shopping, except I still have so much leftover beer in my frig that I doubt I could fit any real food. Or I could sit and type these random alternatives to what I could do with my evening here on my blog. So many choices and yet the only one that's "appealing" is the previously planned activity of spending time with previously mentioned grumpy boyfriend. What're you gonna do?

About the pictures though... It's a weird thing, those photographs. In part because of yesterday's subject of vanity -- seeing myself through the past few years. (I only have post-divorce records of my life.) And seeing all of the things that I've done and places that I've gone and the people who have come and gone through my life, captured on film. Odd. I see pictures of people who not even terribly long ago meant great things to me and my life and now, I don't even know what those people are doing now -- and many cases, don't even care! I wonder if they ever have those same fleeting thoughts about me? Some of them I think I just drifted from because they didn't call, I didn't call and then it just got to be too much trouble to call. The inevitable need to "catch up." It's like the A and B friends I was mentioning before. But even some of those people were in Category A, but chose to let themselves out of my life. Odd again that I don't care more about that. Relationships and people in general really are the forefront of my life -- people are my "thing" after all. Truly scary how easy it is to let them go and to be let go by them. Sometimes you have to wonder: what's the point anyways if it's just that easy to leave??

Wow. Ok. Clearly we are reaching danger alert level for need to improve mood. Must. contact. people....

HP

So, this is what I'm thinking about today... Vanity. Vanity, to me, is a very interesting subject because I happen to be exceptionally vain. However, I do NOT happen to be exceptionally good-looking. But there are those days that I just look in the mirror and I think KA-POW, girlfriend you are SMOKIN'! I'm not sure what stars have to be in alignment in order for me to feel this way, but it's a good feeling. Still, over all -- I usually put about the same amount of effort into the end result and if it works, it works and if it doesn't, well what're you gonna do?? I only had so much to work with to begin with.

But sometimes I think that a lot of this vanity thing comes into play because we really do no have ANY idea how it is that other people see us. We think we look one way and we strive to continue to achieve that certain look. Yet, we see pictures of ourselves that do not look like we see them and we say "I'm just not photogenic." Implying that while we are attractive, for whatever reason we just don't develop well on film. Perhaps our beauty can't be captured?? I'm not sure. I myself often wonder what it is I really look like. And how much of my "appeal" (on good days, appeal) is based more on my personality than my actual looks. And how much in general we see other people not just solely as what they look like, but WHO they are. We spend so much time peeping and peering in the mirror and examining all of our faults that I think we forget to see that there's so much more to us than that shell... Some of my closest friends analyze every new wrinkle that comes to pass and how much weight they put on this week and ask me questions about the same... Do you notice that you have more lines around your mouth and eyes? Honestly, I don' t pay that close attention and I spend a LOT of time in front of the mirror. Sometimes, I think what I'm really searching for in that mirror is the key to who I really am. What it is that makes me tick. And why I have been blessed with the people in my life who love me the way that they do?? What's in this face that made them see me and think she deserves all this and more??

I'm all across the board. The mirror soul searching thing... It's an interesting thing. How often do we look in the mirror and make faces at ourselves to see what those faces look like? And practice important things we have to say? And just gaze and gaze and gaze. I find that I am doing it less and less now that I'm getting on in years (listen to me, like I'm 90 instead of 30) -- I find that what I look like doesn't matter to me so much as who I am. If I am happy with the person that I am, then what shell that person is wearing shouldn't really matter...

Of course, when I have to go shopping for a dress to wear to a wedding that's coming up, I may need to crank up that speech to myself a little bit more. But that's another blog! ;-)

kisses all,
HP

I would like to say that today had been an interesting day -- but that would be a lie. But it's funny because I realized that if we all sneezed simultaneously the world would drown... No, that's not what I thought about, but that's interesting too. What I actually thought about was that everyone -- even realllllly boring people -- can probably extrapolate one little thing from their day and turn it into an anecdote. Where the problem comes in, for me anyways and my concerns about my loyal audience of 3, is just how interesting ARE these events? How noteworthy, how eyebrow-raising -- how worthy of clogging up space on the internet, in other words. Then again: there are LOTS of things clogging up space on the internet that are so much less interesting than I that I have a WAYS to go.

Here are some of today's events that could potentially be converted into anecdotes: * my home refinance is nagging source of stress to me. I changed my mind several times about how I wanted to proceed and that delayed me and then it got down to the wire for my "lock" (apparently it's going to expire) and now we're all scrambling to get closing times in order and final doc's signed, etc. Pain in the ass, but not very interesting. * Finally got my atm card w/the MasterCard logo from my credit union -- fairly large source of joy for me. For reasons that are too lengthy to get into, but easily summed up with "my ex-husband ruined my credit", I couldn't get a credit card debit card until I had been with my credit union for 6 months. For someone who has been in celebrity status of never carrying cash anymore for years prior to changing banks, this was a BIG shockaroo. And the cash just floated through me. I found myself having to really plan where I was going to be and how much money I was going to probably need when I got there. Constant source of frustration to S (the planning, that is), but I didn't want to be ill-prepared and then looking for damned atm's that were just going to rip me off. * Then, still dealing with leftover "party drama hangover" and people keep coming up to me and talking about the party because they don't realize that it's not really a happy subject for me. I have to play it off and try to figure out if they know about the drama and are just prying or if they just want to make small talk (answer: small talk); but it's just irritating. And what's worse is that the people are not meaning to be irritating or hurtful, but that's how I wind up feeling. I do what I can to change the subject but I have never been adept at this... Let's all go back to our history books and remember's Heather's famous subject-changer: soooo, how 'bout those Brooklyn Dodgers? Heard they moved out of Brooklyn, is that a fact??

Then there's just the insurance stuff. I really feel like a big nerd sometimes when it comes to this stuff, because some of it is so fascinating. You just never really think about all of those coverages and what they really mean until the time comes. I just want to make sure that everyone I know is carrying the right stuff! Especially after today where I talked to this woman who turned about to be at-fault for like a 5 car accident and her policy is only going to pay out $25000 for 3 different cars being totalled. I'm not sure if y'all have been new car shopping lately kids, but this is NOT a whole lot. Guess who has to pay the difference?? Not her insurance company, that's for sure.

Oh and then finally -- here's a tip: never, ever whine that your company is not paying you enough money if you don't even notice when they short your paycheck for all of the following: shift differential for working after a certain time at night (16 hours of this), 4 hours of overtime, and 80 hours for the difference between your current pay and the teeny raise they just gave you. They will keep underpaying you and probably tell you that they are paying you more BECAUSE THEY CAN. Definitely need to have the blonde streaks removed from my hair...

That's all for now -- I may be going to late show of the Matrix Reloaded, so stay tuned for possible film reviews. Of course, at the hour that I'm going to see it, the review may consist largely of zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

HP

METAMUCIL FOR THE SOUL

I have decided that the above is going to be the title of my imaginary novel... You know, the one I am going to write when I finally get off my ass and decide to start sharing all of my "Heather from Mountaintop" crap with the world. All of my theories and how-I-see-it stuff. And frankly, I think metamucil is something that is more necessary for your soul than chicken soup. Yeah, it feels good to slurp some soup when you're sick -- but what you really need to do is purge the shit OUT, and what is going to do that better than Metamucil??

The things that you hold on to, the beliefs that you have that keep you going and keep you MOVING -- that's what I'm talking about. I believe that things happen for a reason. I don't necessarily mean some Divine reason or for some greater purpose, but there are lessons that need to be learned and certain chains of events have to happen in order for you to learn them. Maybe you would have learned them some other way, some other time. But I think they needed to happen THEN. Otherwise, you're going to keep making the same dumb mistakes over and over. Some people DO make the same mistakes over and over, but that's because they don't have that cleansing action going on in the colon of their soul. They're not learning it, they're not getting it. That's why they need my book!

I really strive to live a somewhat simplified life. I try to keep the drama and the bullshit that directly relates to me as far away as possible. It's the only way you can survive -- you cleanse yourself of the drama. Usually, it's fairly easy. I don't tend to surround myself with overly dramatic people and the people who do have those tendencies tend to move away from me and towards some higher level of drama. I'm willing to listen to it and will often offer advice on how to get out of it. The thing that I have learned though, and this has been through SEVERAL doses of soul metamucil, is that there are a lot of people who really like to live complicated lives. Who thrive on the chaos and discord. I think sometimes I may even be seen as one of those people, but trust -- I'm the person who will compromise myself into nothingness just to avoid the conflict. This is something I'm working on -- how to maintain my sense of self and the things I value while still keeping the ability to compromise and remain flexible.

Well, not sure how I got down that path -- will continue to flesh out my Metamucil idea... Stay tuned for more fascinating details!

Keep that lack of correspondence coming! Not sure what I would do if anyone wrote -- and whatever you do, don't ask for advice! I really hate that...
HP

5 days without blogging is the longest -- I think -- since I first ventured into cyber-space. There's been good reason for my absence -- this weekend was my 30th birthday. A fact I'm sure has already been peppered through the blog. There was a party, of course, and it was full of all of the things we know and love about Heather and her parties: cool music, enforced shots, and loud booming laugh stuff. Unfortunately, I can't seem to be able write more about the party itself because there was mad drama (which LUCKILY most of the party patrons didn't fully realize) and because of my own foolish, drunk mouth I almost lost the man I love. Bad juju all around. Luckily, things are in the ironing out phase, and the elephant in the room was even exposed last night. I think it's going to be okay.

But let me just say this: there's nothing greater in this life than being given a second chance. By anyone. We're human and we do crazy, fucked up things as a result of the constant torrent of emotions and chemicals and just blood in general that go running through us. It's a lot to handle on even the best of days and let's face it: we are not always doing the best of days EVERY day, it is just not possible. It's been a long time since I have made a mistake that almost cost me as much as this last one did, and to see one that I hold dear hurt because of it -- it puts things in a kind of perspective that you will never get otherwise. And the thing is: if someone forgives you for something that you are willing to accept was wrong, then you owe it to them to keep doing everything you can to do right by them. How many times have every one of us been wronged by someone? A lot! And how often does that person actually come to us and apologize and admit they screwed up? A frighteningly small amount of time. And yet of those times that we have been asked (and granted) forgiveness -- how many times has that person then turned around and done us wrong again?? It's a big deal, the forgiveness thing. Because you can't help but think -- if I grant you this favor, if I give you this get out of jail free card -- how do I know you won't hurt me again?

You don't know. That's the thing. But it is the faith and the love that allowed you to forgive in the first place that keeps you going. You hope you stay true to yourself as much as you possibly can, while trying to keep in mind that you are joining your life with another person and that they have their own set of beliefs and values and they are roiling with their own potential screw-ups... You have to allow room for that person without sacrificing who you are. And you just don't know.

Trust me when I say that I could go on for pages about my thoughts on forgiveness and relationships in general, but if I want to continue to have occasional random visitors pop in, then I had best lighten up just a smidge!

Thanks for stopping -- I love your show!
HP

Has anyone ever noticed that I tend to start talking in the middle of my thought process? I think I do this in real life too. What's that about?

Also, has anyone noticed how I ask all these questions that turn out to be rhetorical because no one ever writes to answer them? Why, Georgia -- WHY?

And then: why has no one figured out that ColdPlay really doesn't sing that well? I only noticed this recently. It was disturbing. Look at the stars? See how they shine for you? And they were all yellow? Were they stoned when they wrote this? And were WE stoned when we made it like this big huge hit? I even burned it on a cd -- a couple of times. They kind of sound like they took a big breath of air and then spewed out a bunch of words and then when they ran out of breath, they started the next verse. Very strange.

And also, most of my posts start out with this long stream of conciousness thing where I say that I don't have anything to write about -- and then I write 9 paragraphs after that. Imagine if I ever thought I had something to write about?! The BlogSpot would probably have to shut down to pull more power from other websites!!! Think of the proliferation, man.

Got distracted -- I'm actually blogging from S's house, which I almost never do -- and noticed neighbors pulling up... Wanted to see if they were the upstairs neighbors, as these are the folks who have left notes and banged on the wall when things were a bit, er, noisy in the bedroom over here. Turns out that they may be lesbians, which would explain the distaste for heterosexual noise. Not that there's anything wrong with lesbians, but it did bring it in to light for me.

Then further distracted by phone call -- I officially give up on trying to blog from foreign locations!
out!
HP

Thighs 'R" Me

Things are getting out of control with my weight. I MAY need to diet. Or exercise. Or BOTH! For anyone who may feel inclined to comment on the advantages of both of these, please don't. I don't care. They both suck and I don't care what anyone says about how good they feel doing it. These people have things wrong with their taste buds and for some reason can't figure out that double chocolate fudge ice cream with peanut butter cups in it is Manna from the gods! And if they don't KNOW that, how can I trust their judgment about my need to exercise and/or diet?? Let's get serious.

But my stock of summer dresses is out-dated and very much ill-fitted. And the frustrating thing that they're only ill-fitted from just above my waist on down. Which means if I replenish in the next larger size then nothing is going to fit right up top and I'm going to be floating, unless I continue to use my "smoke & mirrors" bras in the summer. (That's right boys -- the girls aren't real, sorry to disappoint.) And I don't like to do that b/c who likes all that extra clothing in the summer?? It's muggy here on the east coast, for those of you who were unaware.

I DID come up with a really good plan today though -- I am going to market a line of clothing specifically aimed at pear-shaped women who are not 70 and who do NOT like kittens and flowers and shit on their clothes. I'm thinking of calling it "a-pear-all", get it? Now if I could just reel in a designer for this project, I would be SET! We're talking about clothes that are designed for people with bodies shaped like actual women and not 12 year old boys, but bigger. I go to buy pants and they're like straight lines, so the waist sits out about a mile from my hips but the thigh part is NICE and snuggy. YUCK! No one wants to see that and I'm not lacking in self-awareness about that. And dresses for people who start out small (not terribly small, just not enhanced) and then round out as they go down. Where did all the A-lines go?? Just because THEY fell out of fashion doesn't mean that the people who need to be wearing them did! We're still here, y'all! We need clothes!

So, that was the am disaster -- standing in front of the summer wardrobe moaning b/c the 3 dresses that I thought would still work out have now been narrowed down to 1. We won't even get into the discussion about the dresses that didn't work out LAST summer that are SO not going to work out now. But if we were, we could just say that I am bitter. It's hard having a reminder hanging in your closet that only 2 years ago your thighs were smaller but you decided that beer and nachos were more important than your clothes.

And so -- stay tuned: you may be reading fun-filled stories about my forays into the gym and all of the beauty surrounding me there. Can't guarantee I'm going to be breaking any blogging records this weekend, what with my alcohol-laden 30th celebration and all. But I will try to keep y'all updated!

Love your show!
HP

Just got home from the airport and I'm going to fall out but wanted to jot down some random thoughts... First, how on EARTH do you get obnoxious phrases out of your head? For years I was throwing around the "there is that" for most every occasion -- I've even routed the blog through that -- and recently started on "so, there you go", from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. But NOW, S has started "it's all gooood" and now *I* can't get it out of my head or mouth and it is SUPER annoying. There has got to be a way to wean (er, ween? wheen? whatever) myself from this phrase. Every time I mutter it I just feel my teeth gritting in resistance. It's all good..grrr...NOT ANYMORE!

I guess the best way is to replace it with another catch-all phrase.

Third party: Heather, we're going to have to shut down your blog due to excessive whininess by someone over the age of 20. Now that you're rolling down to 30, well you're not allowed to blog anymore. This service was started so that young people would have a forum to address their VERY important problems and concerns.

Me: It's all goo... That's cool.

TP: You understand that it's not personal, then?

Me: Yeah, man -- it's all..copasetic.

TP: You're taking this very well for someone who can't go to bed at 1am even though your eyes are little slits but you feel the need to type fake conversations on the internet.

ME: LOOK IT'S ALL GOOD!

Damn. I'm worried. If I start losing my ability to have my own annoying phrases, what have I got left in my bag of tricks?? There's only so much I can get away with without my own Heatherisms. Now I gotta go dredge up some more -isms just to assert my independence and stuff. I hate that!

You know that you are dealing with laziness of astronomical proportions when you can't even muster the energy to go tan. I'm almost done with my sessions anyway, what good is a few more minutes going to do???

Sad.

And I will be spending the rest of the week hoping for rain in order to justify all of these next to last minute changes. S says I shouldn't stress because he's the one dealing with all the running around, but this just goes back to the end of my last post: I am not used to the male species doing things on MY behalf, so it's a little hard to trust and let go. That's not personal, it's just my personality.

We think coffee is a wonderful invention...

I'm wondering how big of a COMPLETE egomaniacal nerd I would be if I took computer classes just so I can be a better blogger?? I can't seem to get this right and I keep losing stuff and I have about 300 things that I should be thinking about instead of "where did my damned archives go?"

At the front of the mental burner: pending 30th birthday celebration. It would seem that even Mother Nature is complying with my irrepressible urge to take over everything -- my planned barbecue blow out has been blown out by threatening skies and now the events are going to be at my house. Which is fine, but now I have to actually CLEAN my house. Well, as much cleaning as I would do on any other occasion I suppose. And take my lawn down from its current state of White Trash Chic. Let's just say that I'm not happy about the prospect of having to do manual labor to celebrate my birthday. It's not that I'm a poor hostess (I hope!) -- it's just that I am damned lazy! Not to mention the fact that I was seriously, secretly (although I guess not so secretly anymore now that it's out here in cyber-space) looking forward to having S step up and be cruise director for a while. It was cool that he was taking so much initiative to do stuff and keep me from having to do it. I'm really not used to the men in my life going out of their way to do things for me... Although I FULLY admit that more often than not (particularly in S's case) it's because I don't give anyone a chance to do anything for me because I'm so busy mapping out my social calendar for the next 4 years. But if I weren't planning out all of that social activity then I might have time to go to the grocery store and clean my house and organize my closets and mow my lawn and get a college education and then what on EARTH would I bitch about??

And if I didn't have anything to bitch about then I wouldn't have anything to fill up my blog with and then y'all would just be suffering. That's not fair to the 3 of you! The least I can do is to continue to create random melodramatic things to complain about in order to keep you -- my loyal non-paying audience -- entertained. What can I say?? I am a giver.

Off to stare at things that need to be cleaned and then not clean them...
HP

I don't know how to tell y'all this but I don't prioritize all of my friends to Category A. That doesn't mean that I don't care about ALL of my friends -- I don't think anyone who has ever REALLY been friends with me would think otherwise. But there are only so many angels you can fit on the head of a pin. And the reality is that I am only able to truly focus on but so many people at a time. Think of it like teacher-student ratio -- in order for there to be quality friendship, there are only so many people who are going to make the top 5 list. Or whatever.

I'm not here to name names, just to explain that sometimes these situations come and bite me in the butt. I invited one of my Category B friends to come and visit and hang out with me for the birthday party weekend stuff. Truth is though that I won't have time for any one on one face time and we got into a bit of a tussle over this. She was more than a little pouty, while trying to pretend to understand. And what can I say?? "Well, if you had made the Friendship Finals, then I would in fact be dropping everything to spend time with you and put everyone else aside." I can't say that and everything else just sounds even worse. So, there's the dilemma: I wanted her to be here for my birthday weekend or I certainly would not have invited her, but I also don't have time to cordon off just for her. (Actually I can only write all this stuff b/c she doesn't have internet access.) I offered to let her stay in my house, but since *I* won't be in my house most of the weekend -- not a great offer either!

I'm supposed to be the one doling out the advice from the mountaintop, not looking for it! In the meantime, I'm hoping someone takes pity on me and gives me some formatting advice... I want my blog to be pretty and interesting and FUN (like me!)... Should I download some kind of editor or get a site I have to pay for or what?!?

Wondering who has me on THEIR "B" list...
HP

"your mom is"

So, the thing is that I'm lousy at the whole Mom's day thing. For real. My mother has everything and she doesn't even know what to do with all of THAT and what she doesn't have, she goes out and buys. And then has to find a place for that. Their attic is over-flowing and there are no bare places on walls there. Country stuff and antiques, especially antiques -- this is her thing. A few years ago I figured out that the only "thing" I can give her on Mother's Day that I couldn't buy at the Crackhead Country store is time with me. It's arrogant and assuming, but it's true and I AM an only child. I started using the day to take her to do the things that she likes to do. Which basically means that I have to follow her around antique malls.

Today, it took an amusing turn when I had the full-on epiphany that the reason she enjoys this so much is because she likes to feel old. This is the only explanation I can readily come up with, because she doesn't buy anything or even THINK about buying things. But she will pull me from wherever I am hiding (usually out front smoking and talking on the phone, when I can sneak away) and show me things that she used to have. But the thing that she gets a really big, twisted thrill out of is things she used to have... (insert scary music) and then THREW AWAY. That's right. These things were potentially valuable pockets of cash that she tossed aside or sold for $5 at a garage sale. Or (almost as often a recurring theme) *I* have and where IS that thingamajobber anyways?? I TOLD you it was valuable. She ran out of room to continue hoarding things at her own house, so she "passed" the items on to me. And now the guilt foundation has been firmly rooted, so I hoard the stuff too. That's our legacy generation to generation: attics filled with potentially valuable crap. A virtual gold mine suspended over my head.

And now I do it too. I was killing time by sauntering through the booths, and I saw my old-fashioned coffee grinder in a booth -- tagged $135. Damn. I could use $135 right now! Maybe I'll just liquidate my coffe grinder!

Wow, maybe Eminem was just telling his mom he was cleaning out his closets b/c he was getting rid of all the antiques she was making HIM hoard?? Huh? Not too crazy, right?

OH SHIT -- I GOTTA GO!
hp

Ok. I'm going to try to be calm now, but it's virtually impossible. You (and by you I mean the 3 of you who REGULARLY read) are so not going to believe this, but apparently OTHER people are reading my blog. Like, people who do not know me and therefore haven't witnessed my greatness firsthand and are only being introduced to it by way of this fabulous little blog thing. That means the message is spreading and I, for one, am prepping the Kool-Aid even. as. we. speak. Soon, the world will be filled with my minions (originally typed "mignons" so perhaps I didn't eat enough at dinner after all) and I will be their creator. It'll be like a live-action Sims thing or you know, God. How cool is that?

But seriously. I'm surprised. Not sure how people find me out here amongst the vast sea of other bloggers, though we all know I'm significantly more interesting than they are. But, to be fair, I'm WAY older so therefore have had time to season my humor (which today could use some major marinating) and develop some stories. Not just "like oh my GOD my parents suck soooo much and they never let me talk on the phone past 9 and they only let me have my own computer like a year ago and I need to pass my English test but I'd much rather be sitting here typing these run-on sentences." While my stories are not MUCH better than this, at LEAST I don't have anyone telling me what to do when I'm done and me actually having to do it b/c that person is providing, I don't know, EVERY FRIGGIN THING I WANT OR NEED TO MAKE A COMPLETE HUMAN BEING.

That's when you know you're getting old. You resent teenagers for whining. Suck it up, kids -- it only gets harder. Not that I have it rough or anything, but I'm almost 30 and I still don't make even 30k a year yet. I think there should be some law that you have to at least make a $1000 per year that you've been alive. Like some sort of minimum wage type thing.

Well, I had some goodies that I was wanting to share about spending the day with my mom, but it's all lost in the whirlwind of emotion I got when I found out that people read my blog. And they like me, they really like me!

I'm going to go scout some other blogs to steal some more ideas... Er, I mean... Well, yeah. That's what I meant.

Godspeed -- especially to you newly initiated folk!
HP

I think my favorite part of the last poem generator was "inside KNOWS that I have come to show me" -- because isn't that what this is all about?? Me trying to show ME? (And normally, I'm so shy and reclusive it's odd!)

Here's the afternoon events... I lost my adopted cat b/c his daddy came home today. I was cat-sitting this week and had to return my new friend and I was actually pretty bummed about it. The cat had the worst name, but he was such a sweetie. It's funny too b/c I've never really been partial to male cats, b/c the cat my parents had when I was very little was an outdoor tabby named Lefty and he was CRAZY mean. He cornered one of my babysitters on the stairs once -- my parents came home and found her sitting on the stairs crying b/c the cat wouldn't let her down. And this is the person they were trusting MY life with!! Goes to show why I have so many issues, eh? But, I digress... Although I have to say that one of my dad's strongest memories of me as a child was when I was about 9 years Lefty died. And Dad buried him in a pile of grass and we went out to say our goodbyes and I solemnly said "goodbye Dude" -- b/c that's what Dad called the cat. (He was a pretty bad-ass dude, though -- the cat, not dad -- he impregnated pretty much all the female cats on the block when he wasn't scrapping with them) But here lately, with S's cat and now having cat-sat for another boy cat -- I'm pretty fond of them. The boy cats treat me better than the girl cats do.

Also, I'm in trouble for having a big mouth (AGAIN!) and spilling information. And this is only going to be compounded b/c I'm telling the story HERE, but Jesus -- who reads this shit?? I can't help it. See previous blog -- I know I have a big mouth. This is NOT new information. I've been getting in trouble for this since birth. I try, but seems like the simplest bits of information shared turn into drama drama drama. I do not have time for that crap. I like to watch it on MTV and I've done my soap opera stint -- my dues are paid. I don't like to credit Avril Lavigne, but why do you have to go and make things so complicated?? Let's just all get along! He said that she said that you said this and why the hell did you say that when you told ME not to? I don't know! Does it matter? I said it! Let's move on.

In my 30th year I am going to work on being a more quiet and demure docile person. And then when all of y'all are bitching that I don't say anything and I don't contribute much and I'm pretty much a boring wallflower then we will see.

And yes, I could be a wallflower if I wanted to be! I was married to a showboating prick for too long and I learned to shut up and sit in the back seat and keep every damned thing to myself and I didn't like it. But I can do it. But somehow -- I think there are some who may be ill prepared for quiet shy reserved Heather. I think some may think it a sign of the apocalypse. But I could be wrong.

IT'S ALL GOOD!
HP

This was a good one too.

Inside KNOWS that
I have
come to show me
and barely out
how they were all And tear
at the sudden realization the world...
especially. But a really
really care about not
ready for
myself but back
on the pending 30
stuff every single
I WAS going there,
will some bumpy days you
need to her thinking it
probably cute since this
stereotype that say
to get
rid of issues have you
my smile and most raw, needy
moments. I know, that stuff apart. That
meet the
right So, the
people suck

I love "so, the people suck" -- that's just like cool.

Yes, I've been watching the chronicles of Tim & Nicole again on Sorority Life. I need to get a life and not a sorority one! So, I will.

So, now the random poem generator will re-generate its own poems into the new poems! Circle of life baby!

Grrrr... G-d friggin' blogger with it's non-working insert link stuff. Anyways, the cool blog is tinylittlepenis.com -- I hate this HTML crap!

Why am I up this early on a Saturday?

Good question. S had to work and I got up when he did, because well. It was easier. I have crap to do and I don't want to, so I'm blogging. And I was reading one of my favorite blogs this morning () and found Rob's Amazing Poem Generator in the process. Which in turn generated some weird ass poetry about MY little site!

Such as:

Inside KNOWS that I do so back on
bathing
suits. today a talk and had a
bad But the thing
I just made the last
rites So, friggin
annoying and prep time Apparently my
legitimate sick I am not
actually a few
days, with our
usual greet but gonna go into Sorority
show that I have
deteriorated rapidly. I particularly
feel about things in our usual greet
but thanks for a
fate worse I made the
mistake, then I have Leader
of this stereotype that I know that I would rather
miffed with breast because of which by flirting with
Ok. I will occasionally poke
into the day have
just a lot then I know going
to have said this
is will say something
else I know I even realize. Maybe one home
contemplating playing with
the people What
people go try to HIS
premium went up for a hover {
COLOR: #072f67; : Verdana, Arial, ; : 12px; A:stalker and my
mind...


This makes almost as much sense as the crap I wrote in high school!

Went to see X2 last night, which was amazingly good -- considering that I had some idea what was going on and I never even saw X. Although, S did give me a pretty good break down of who the mutants are and what the story is behind them, so that helped a lot. We went with another couple and I didn't think I was going to enjoy that so much, but turned out I did. Sometimes it's hard for me to feel "couple-y" because we don't often do that kind of crap. Go to dinner with another paired off pair and speak the "we" stuff. I like that. You don't feel as pretentious in front of another couple speaking "we" stuff, it's just natural. I like the we stuff, but I don't know that S does so much. I mean, I like my ME stuff too -- but sometimes, it's really cool knowing that there's another part of me out there -- with him. Because of shared experiences and common goals. And I hate to admit it, but it's nice having someone to check in with when making plans. Well, I don't know what WE'RE doing.

I have a lot of issues with WE stuff too, though. I often wonder what I'm cut out for, in the long run that is. I have a hard time putting my faith that someone would want to spend "the long run" just with ME. That someone would want to tie themselves down to me when I'm so flaky and undomesticated. There's a lot in me that finds it hard to believe that one person is going to want to be around for me when I am at my most raw, needy moments. I just want to be able to do things for myself and be for myself and all of that. Because I know that I can trust ME, you know -- whereas relying on this WE stuff is still pretty new to me...

Anyways, not sure how I got down THIS sordid path, other than lack of coffee. Perhaps I'll go remedy the coffee problem and try this again!
HP

Party stuff...

So I'm having pool party-barbecue thing for my 30th birthday. And no matter what the size and shape of the person invited, they will inevitably say "well, I'm not going to put a bathing suit on -- I'm not ready for that." I don't understand -- is there some kind of counselling that goes with this? Is there a pill? Okay -- yes, I fully admit to being bathing suit shy (see blog below -- don't remember the date because I don't read this stuff either!), but it's a party. Of friends and friendly people. What are they going to do? Point and stare at my jiggly thighs? Stop liking me because I have a round belly? I'm thinking not. If they were going to do that they probably would have done so a LONG time ago. And the people that say this (women, of course) are usually fabulous looking women who would look great in a bathing suit. I don't know -- maybe it's maturity, because I just really don't care what people think about me and my jiggly thighs anymore. That doesn't mean I'm bounding out of bed every day with love for my extra chin and my super-sized booty, but there's got to be a time that you come to peace with this stuff. And it's like -- it gets really old beating yourself up all the time and the only one who's picking apart all of the imperfections is me. Random people that meet me, they get to know me for my laugh and my wit and my smile and my genuine-ness -- all the rest is just packaging. And anyone that's ever unwrapped a beautifully wrapped gift only to get a really crappy present on the inside KNOWS that the packaging can be deceiving.

Okay, done with the cliches...

One more random -- I will occasionally poke into other people's blog's, just to comparison shop. People, I am one old-ass blogger! Most of the people out there are teenagers whining about how crappy their lives are. Yeah. I wish my life were all about my parents not letting me do drugs and how much damned homework I have. Sigh -- the inhumanity!

When I was your age we didn't have blogs to bitch on! We had to pass notes! HANDWRITTEN ONES!

Ok. I am getting old. And it's midnight and this is when old people go to bed! G'night
HP

Work stuff...

I know I have said this before but let me say it again: I LOVE my boss's boss. She is just the coolest yet nerdiest person I know. Today we did our usual greet but instead of the typical fine, how are you? She said she was grrreat! I said you've got a lot of enthusiasm going there, what's up? Apparently, one of the managers gave her a gift today -- a game called Songburst. It's kinda like Outburst, but the players have to guess songs instead of words. You give them clues and then they have to sing out the answer. Whose boss does stuff like this? She was running to her desk like a kid at Christmas to show me the game and pulled out some of the clues and was even singing along with them. EVEN did the "ooo, oo I know this one" It was funny, but now I have Leader of the Band stuck in my head. She's the kind of person that I believe I would be friends with if office politics didn't disallow that.

And I finally had someone "complain" because their premium went down. It was unbelievable. Is there nothing that they don't complain about? You have to pay LESS money and this is upsetting to you?? Turns out, she turned 30!! What a wonderful thing for me to hear -- my rates will drop again! Who says this aging stuff is bad? I'm ridiculously unfettered by the pending 30 stuff it's not even funny!

I thought there was something else I was going to share with y'all, but it has escaped me. Too much burning of the midnight oil -- to burn a cd to sing along with in my car and then it didn't even work! I was rather miffed with my car and my cd burner and things in general when that happened. Oh well. I guess the thought of my singing along scared the songs off the disk, I don't know.

I'm off to see the Wizard -- y'all take care now!
HP

Thought for the day: On Regret

I came to the sudden realization the other day that regrets are actually a GOOD thing. Here's why: when I look back on the mistakes that I have made, I know that I have learned many valuable lessons from those mistakes. If I hadn't made the mistake, then I wouldn't have learned the lesson. And if I hadn't learned the lesson, then I wouldn't have acquired enough knowledge to regret what I did. So, the only reason I HAVE regrets is because I have grown as a person because of those mistakes.

Interesting, no?

See, and y'all thought I was just a pretty face!
HP