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