Friday nights

Speaking of commitment fears, one of my biggest is going to be the loss of Fridays. I love Friday nights. It's the beginning of the weekend and it's almost always when Scott and I get together. It's usually pretty lax. We may go out to dinner, we may go to a movie or the grocery store but nothing earth-shattering to anyone else in the world. But we just get to talking, the way we never do during the week. And usually the way we never will again over the weekend.

But, it's because we haven't seen each other or talked that much on the phone that Friday nights are the way they are. Is there ever going to be a night like that when we see each other every night?

I worry about this.

Talk about silly things like... He's looking over at me wistfully and he says, "You know, we've never been shithoused together. I think we should do that before we get married." And me thinking that that was the craziest and yet somehow most romantic thing that anyone's ever said to me. Isn't that funny? So, now we have tentative plans to go out on Valentine's Day and just get trashed together. We were going to ask a bunch of people to go with us, but then we realized that's why we had never had this illusive moment before. Because either one of us was staying sober because we had to drive or else we were too busy making sure everyone else was happy to really enjoy the moment together. The only time was the very first night we got together... So, we just decided to be crazy drunk barflies on our own.

Speaking of the first night we got together, I was thinking about that this Friday night too. We were watching that Band Reunited show and this guy from Squeeze said, "can you ever recreate your first kiss?" And I got to thinking about our first kiss and how even after we broke up that time -- I never forgot it. How monumental it was. I had never had (nor did I ever have after) a first kiss like that. Like going home, like staring at the sun. Like you could suddenly hear the music of the spheres! (Who's been reading Pythagoras, huh -- huh?) Even if I really try to think about it, I have a hard time remembering my first kiss with anyone else I'd ever been with. They just were ordinary. Not like with Scott. It was just sweepingly grand. It was like a movie.

Anyways... That's Fridays. I like Fridays and I am really afraid to lose that feeling.

But, then maybe... Everyday could be like Friday, huh?

I think that's what helps me. Believing that.

-hp

Baby got BACK

So, as is often a recurring theme in my life (so consequently, my blog) I've been obsessing about my weight a lot lately. Because I've been in a class, I've been eating a lot more than usual. And I'm just out of shape. And I make all of these justifications about it, "Well, at least I can still wear this size" or "As soon as (blank) happens, I'll get back on a work out routine."

Yeah, right.

But, I do have to wonder -- how fat is too fat? I mean, for me. There are plenty of scary fat people at work with those weird rolls that you're not quite sure what they are and I wonder -- is that happening to me? Am I going to wake up one morning and have to move stuff around to see my coochie??

I know, it's twisted but I DO think these things. It's not like they just woke up one morning and it was like that, there was a lot of preparation to get to that stage.

And the thing is that when I am fully clothed, especially in the winter, I'm pretty okay with how I look. Pretty good rack, nice waist definition, a booty that is in fashion for as long as JLo is, etc. I'm not unattractive in the face, so fully clothed I've still got it. But naked. Whew. It's not good.

It's so bad that I try not to look when I'm in the shower. Which isn't that difficult of a task to accomplish since I know where everything is and I'm usually at least half asleep anyways. While I'm getting ready I just try to maintain eye contact with myself. Like I was in the locker room or something with other people.

I've been thinking about liposuction lately. But, I don't have a lot of money. I'd have to do it on a layaway plan. One leg now and the other next year, maybe. Because, I really only want my legs done. I can live with having a belly and even hips and a big butt -- but the thighs just drive me crazy. If I want to do it, I have to do it before I get married. After that, my future groom says he just can't support the idea of me spending a crap ton of money getting fat sucked out. I don't know why -- it's not as if it's an entirely selfish thing on my part. I don't think anyone should have to be subjected to the sight of cellulite like this. It's not good.

I blame the cruise that we're going on. I know I'm going to be in my bathing suit a LOT and just thinking about all the jiggling and wiggling makes me a little queasy. What if my thighs throw the ship off balance and there's another Titanic like situation??

I mean, I want to be famous and everything -- but not like that.

Anyways. The only answer is exercise and that's just so tiring. I guess I'm going to have to learn to embrace the broader me if I'm not going to do anything about it. But let me tell you, trying to embrace this body is like "trying to throw your arms around the world."

BLOG MADNESS 2003

Oh my God -- my competitive gene has finally kicked in. I realized there was a voting thingy on the BlogMadness site and I started going crazy. I emailed everyone I knew and gave very specific directions as to how to go and vote for me me me!

I'm still behind. If you've got the time and inclination and you're still reading this blog (and by the way, who ARE you because I don't think anyone is reading this blog anymore and I would like to talk to you!) then please link over to here and my blog is under the Work category, I'm #12.

I may be behind because you have to scroll to get to my answer. Not sure.

But vote. I dislike being competitive, frankly. It's always been something I have tried to pretend wasn't part of my character.

But it's a lie, I tell you. I love to win -- I need to win -- help me win!

I dislike begging, but if I can beg and still win then I would find a way to be okay with that too.

Fear Factor

I have strange fears about commitment. Not things like "will you still love me... tomorrow..." or fidelity or things like that. Things that are truly inexplicable.

For example, sometimes when I am home I wear whatever I can find to be covered and warm (or cool, as the season dictates) and sometimes these things are just, well, odd. My mom used to say things like, "Is that your costume? And if so, what ARE you going as?" Right now, I have on my heart covered pj pants with a plaid flannel shirt. I look like I hit a sale at the thrift store. But, I'm not cold. And I left my favorite flannel pj's that actually fit at Scott's house.

But, will I be able to wear these things in front of my beloved without losing his love and affection? It's not even considered sexy in the frozen tundra to be dressed this way.

Also, I almost never eat regular food for dinner. I don't even really remember what regular people eat for regular dinners anymore. If I even eat dinner (which is also kind of rare, since I usually eat lunch so late), I eat strange things. Or strange things for them to be considered dinner food. Like, tonight I had cheese and crackers. I'm not stuffed to the brim or anything, but I didn't have to do dishes. I hate dishes. But, it's not even that -- I just don't ever feel like eating dinner. Am I going to have to eat dinner every night because he's going to expect that?

And what if I want to be alone? I mean, I never really WANT to be alone -- but that's because I'm alone a lot. It gets boring for me fast, but after we get married he's going to be there all the time. Don't get me wrong -- I love him and I LOVE spending time with him, but I have things to do and I get distracted by other people. Am I going to be able to accomplish those things? Is he going to be able to accomplish his things and still feel like entertaining me?

I need to be entertained. Constantly. I have a hard time accepting that sometimes being bored is just a part of life.

Also, will I become one of those women who never gets to talk to her friends on the phone anymore because I can't talk in front of him? What if I need to bitch? Am I going to have to go out for cigarettes just to bitch?

I know I'm crazy for thinking about these things, but I do.

What about mud masks? And tweezing. Have you ever had a really good tweezer session? Those can go on for a pretty long period of time.

What about my junk? Where's my junk gonna go? Right now, it's all over the damned house because it's my house. Who cares? Well, pretty soon -- someone's gonna care. Is a clean-up gene going to kick in sometime soon?? Because I'm 30 and it hasn't hit me yet.

That's all I have so far, but I'll post more as I think of them. Because neurosis is fun!

The Weather Outside IS frightful!

The thing that cracks me up when we have any kind of bad weather around here, the local news stations always think it's really important to have someone go out and stand in it and report about it.

"Well, Bob -- it's white and it's everywhere and it's making road conditions slick. Very slick. People are just slipping around out here."

Yeah, okay. See, I could figure all that from looking out my window, but I guess those reports are for people who don't have windows, right?

Pity, Party of One, Pity?

You know, for someone who loathes self-pity as much as I do -- I sure do it a lot. But, I've just been thinking -- here I am, going through all this stress and stupid fights with Scott over the wedding this and the wedding that and all of this talk about the wedding... And the fact is that the wedding really just is, in part, a reason to get together and celebrate our union with my friends.

Which means I'm throwing a party for my friends.

This is something that I normally love to do. But, lately -- I feel like I'm the only one participating in the friend game. I'm the one calling and writing and planning get-togethers. But, as it turns out -- when I don't do those things, I don't hear from people.

Which makes me think... I'm not sure what, but it makes me sad.

And it makes me wonder -- why am I driving Scott crazy with wedding talk this and that and stressing out about the size and scope of the thing over people from whom I'm apparently drifting apart?

See, self-pity is disgusting. The fact is that everyone's busy with their lives, just like I get busy with mine when I drift away from people that I've been close to. But that only makes me feel worse, because then I think of the people that I've let down by drifting and I think perhaps this is the fate I deserve.

Insert couch for fainting, preferably while clutching a lace hankie.

Anyways, it's likely just hormones -- it usually is. But, still. I feel kind of like going on strike. You wanna see me or talk to me or get together with me? Well, YOU plan it then. It feels pretty crappy feeling like you only talk to people because you bully them into it. I feel like a stalker.

The thing is that there are people with bigger problems than mine. They're doing a big shake up at work and my boss doesn't even know if she'll have a job tomorrow. Has been living with the potential axe hanging over her head for about 2 weeks now. I would think that would be a lot worse than having a self-pity party over drifting from your friends.

And that's what I'm going to tell myself, but the fact is that I am on strike.

At least until it's time for me to plan another party. A regular one, not a pity one that is.

Man, I wished I paid more attention to sports crap

I think I may have mentioned the Blog Madness competition I entered... Apparently, I'm really in it and in the first round I am competing against a blog called Better Living Through Blogging, entry titled A Matter of Taste.

I just Googled on over there and the entry's pretty good, I LOVE the punchline.

But, since there's no real prize -- other than personal satisfaction, which any MasterCard commercial could tell you is priceless -- I am not going to sweat it too much.

More later -- my stomach's turning inside out I'm so friggin' hungry right now. Damn this regular schedule with regular hours, I've been forced to eat 3 meals a day!

Inside the Blogger's Studios

I don't have a studio.

But, you're already in my head. What else do I have to offer? Just my ever-lasting soul.

I used to be funny on paper, this used to be funny. I know I'm still funny because people still laugh at things that I say and most of the time it's not at me. (Even I can tell the difference, I've been on both sides of that often enough.)

I think if I analyze what I'm going to say too much, it's more forced and not funny. But on the other hand, when it's more stream of conscious it's not funny either.

Because believe it or not, I do not think funny things. Not that my thoughts are serious and stern -- just rambling walks through my life.

I say this because over lunch today I made a comment about getting bored fairly easily when I'm by myself and my work friend Ed said that he had a hard time believing that. (He is someone who is generally fairly amused by me.) And therein lies the rub. I don't honestly think I'm being overly vain when I say that for the most part people generally seem to enjoy being around me and think I'm "fun". And funny, especially. But the fact of the matter is that I can't sit around telling clever stories to myself about myself (although, there again, I'm sure lots of people think I do that too) -- I won't think they're that funny, I already know them. I was there. Also, a lot of the reason that people seem to enjoy hanging out with me (and this is purely conjecture on my part) is because I'm a little blunt and will just say whatever I'm thinking without much filter. So, there again -- I'm the one thinking these things, they're not new and innovative to me. Hence, I get bored on my own.

On another tangent, I realized why I will never be able to be a stand-up comic. Because even though I am capable of being funny, I'm situationally funny. When the thing happens, I'm usually able to find the right punchline. (Sidenote: do you have ANY idea how hard it is to refrain from outbursts in my classes where I have constant captive audience and on-going situations begging for punchlines?? It's HARD -- I could give up chocolate AND pizza and it would be easier. Seriously.) But, I haven't had many funny things happen to me. Things happen and I make them seem funny at the time but really don't get much of a story out of them. I realized this while sitting in Philosophy class tonight because my teacher is a riot. (His name is Jeffrey White -- hi Mr. White in case you ever Google yourself) He just spins a marvelous tale and just has me laughing the whole time. He really could be a stand-up, I bet he's tried it. If he hasn't, he should. He even has that same kind of delivery that some stand-ups do where the funniest part of the story is thrown out almost as an aside. Frankly, I'm jealous.

And I actually had a whole thing I was thinking about writing about the people in the class who just don't seem to understand that they're rambling, but then I thought... Insurance on glass houses is probably REALLY expensive...

HP

The Eyes Have It

I think about my eyes a lot, because a lot of people in my circle wear some type of corrective lenses. I think that I would never be able to handle this. I'm not responsible enough... I would be losing them, they would be so dirty I wouldn't be able to see out of them, I'd break them. And with my general state of broke-ness, I would not have money to replace them. Then I would be blind.

And that's the thing that's really disconcerting. To think that everything would be fuzzy all the time. I have no idea if Scott can see me when he gets up in the morning, but then again -- he may be pretty lucky in that regard, I'm quite the mess in the morning. If I couldn't just roll over and see the clock to know how late I was, or just watch tv til I dozed off or whatever, I just wouldn't be mature enough to deal with that. I'd be running right out and getting some Lasik or whatever was needed.

"Doctor, you need to fix me NOW!"

I'm already starting to feel the signs of aging and of sitting in front of a computer so much (at work and at home) when it comes to seeing things at a distance. Combine that with a week of not being able to hear (that has been restore, mostly -- thanks for asking) and I'm pretty much ready for the rest home any day now.

Digressing off to the movies...

Plugging

Here's the thing. I have linked this blog before and it's even listed on the side with my favorite blogs. (Well, they WOULD be my favorites if the friggin' people posted more ofte, but -- what're you gonna do?)

It's Call Centre Confidential again. Oh my God -- I love this crap. It's completely addictive. Do NOT click over there unless you have some time to get clicked into some call center soap opera shit. I particularly get a kick out of the guy (Wrapstar) comparing himself to Tony Soprano. And anyone who has ever worked in any kind of call center environment knows EXACTLY what he is talking about with "made" managers. I haven't been around my company long enough to know who these people are, and with the pending upheaval in progress -- may never be.

But I digress. Call Centre Confidential is just awesome. He write the way I wish I could write -- in short, snappy vignettes about his life. I can sometimes pull off snappy, but short? Let's get serious. I'm just not about short. I am short and even manage to hide that behind over-sized, jacked up shoes. Well, in the winter... In the summer, I allow myself to be short again because sandals...

See, there I go again. Can't stay focused on one little plug long enough to plug it. But please -- check this stuff out. He's great and you get to pick up on some Briticisms in the meantime.

This just in, it may be snowing in Hell

I cooked dinner tonight. A lasagna. And it was DAMNED good.

And you didn't get any.

And that's about as profound as she gets today, kids. ;-)

I actually gave serious thought to posting a long drawn out rehash of how Scott and I hooked up, not because I was feeling warm and fuzzy per se -- but I was talking to the Unicorn last night and she was waxing rhapsodic over this guy she fell in love with... She did ramble on for quite a bit, but I let her because I know how that feels. To have that story of getting together with the one person who really clicks with you and the joy you get from re-telling it because you get to re-live all of the little nuances of it every time...

I always include the part about how crazy Kristian had to go feed Betty Russo's cats. It's kookie, but it was that fact that ultimately drove me to Scott. So, I hope wherever Betty's cats are, they are well-fed and happy.

I have reading I should be doing, in order to get my college classes off on the right foot and all -- but damn it, American Idol is on. How much should one woman have to sacrifice?

HP

If you have comments, apparently you will have to keep them to yourself…

Lost my comments again due to some kind of hosting problem. My belief is that it was some kind of funding thing. Nevertheless, another server took over and I can't get their link to work. This is operator error and one that I don't have the patience to fix today... Largely for reasons evident in the below post. Nevertheless, my feeling is that I haven’t had a large amount of readers lately, if the site counter is even working, and what readers I may have aren’t commenting on what they’re reading.

So, I have re-added an email link to the site (which I wasn’t even aware was missing) over where the other blogs are linked. If you want to make a comment, feel free to email me. If you miss the comments button, you can write about that. My blog email address is as always insideheathershead@hotmail.com.

Who Cares whose fault it is?

One of my favorite shows is, of course, Sex and the City, but one of the things I always marvelled at was how she was writing about the relationships she was in in her nationally syndicated column while very rarely expressing any feelings of how odd that must be for the person she was in the relationship with to be reading about it.

That is something that I often grapple with here at my little blog. Which is funny if you think about it, because tons of people are allegedly reading Carrie's column, while but a scant handful are trotting over to check out the blog. So, why not talk about whatever I want to talk about and screw the consequences?

Well, I have found that that's not always the best course of action. While the jury's out on whether or not he even reads this stuff regularly, (I don't ask unless there's something I particularly am interested in his opinion on and he almost never comments on anything that I have written) I know that in many cases discretion is indeed the better part of valor. For a few reasons, which I'm going to discuss now.

We are , in fact, fighting now. I can share this information because I really don't know why we're fighting, exactly. I'm being stupid, he's being stupid, it's just stupid. His teeth hurt, I can't hear and we were just getting on each other's nerves. And that's the thing. People who are in couples KNOW this. Know that these things happen and that sometimes (like this time) they get BLOWN up out of proportion and people (that would be me, in this case) say nasty things that they don't really mean and what was just a mild irritation turns into a war. It's dumb because we go to the battle knowing that one of us is going to give in and surrender. We're going to do that because we love each other and deep down we know that we're fighting over something stupid. And here is where discretion becomes the better part of valor -- by sharing these kind of things with everyone in the free world, all you are doing is inviting negative views of your partner. Negative views that you are going to wind up doing a lot of backpeddling to correct. And you can't even get TOO upset by these viewpoints, because you invited them in by sharing this particular vignette about your life.

There does get to be a fine line though. Because on the one hand you don't want to be sharing all of these minor ups and downs with the world but on the other if you (and by you I mean ME) keep all of these things to yourself, well... You just wind up getting resentful. Then things really do get blown out of proportion.

The key is, of course, good communication between you and your partner. You have problems, you work on them. Especially when they're stupid things.

And I'm here to tell you that that is not as easy as it sounds. I will admit that when we became engaged, I did think that things were going to instantly be easier and smoother. It was a rude awakening to realize that we still had some of the same stumbling blocks that we had before... They didn't just go away. I know that for me the difference NOW is that I try to view those things are more manageable than I previously viewed them. I try to think outside of the box for other solutions. I try to allow more time for things to blow over, for example, than was previously in my nature. (I'm not always terribly successful at this.) But I do try and largely it's because I realize that he would not have asked me to marry him if he thought that there were problems that we couldn't resolve. That he realized that we would have problems. Scott doesn't enter into major commitments lightly, trust me. So, I put faith in THAT.

That's not always easy. Commitment and relationships are not for the weak, trust me. There are plenty of times that it's all it's cracked up to be and those times are more frequent than the other times. But the other times, boy -- they can try your patience like nobody's business. It's hard for me to always act on it being about the give AND the take. Sometimes I have a hard time with one of those, and sometimes it's even hard with the taking. And I never thought that it would be like that.

As usual, I've walked all over the page without hitting on a real point. Other than this, which is kind of off the original point -- I think you're always going to have times that call to question how you ended up with the person you have ended up with, but I think that as long as you can always come up with a quick and immediate answer that goes beyond, "Well, I guess I just love him." then you're okay. I think you have to know why you love someone, even if it's for silly reasons, because it is that knowledge that makes the fights silly. And makes the staying together logical.

But, that's just my point of view.

HP

La Femme Seule

Remember in, like, kindergarten where they had a grade for "doesn't work well with others"? I think that I probably never had a problem with that but I would have gotten marks for "doesn't work well with self". Isn't that sad?

I just realized that's why I don't study so well -- it involves doing it with myself, alone. Trust me, that guy was singing about me when he crooned, "don't wanna be, by myself..." And I've got so many people and so many plans tucked into every nick and cranny so that can rarely happen. That's scary. And then I don't get much accomplished with others, because I'm so excited at having someone to entertain. And someone to entertain me.

I probably shouldn't be sharing these super personal thoughts with the internet, but my site counter just informed me that I have only had one visitor per week for God knows how long. So, no one is out there. There is no life on other planets!

Sigh...

Sincerely,
The Drama Queen

Blog by Numbers

Sometimes I feel the urge to blog but really don't have anything to say. Many of you will review past posts and think to yourselves, "Hmm, that must happen A LOT."

I think it's just the catharsis of the writing. There's something comforting about letting the thoughts escape out of my head and run around on the screen and play. Sometimes while I'm in this process, something noteworthy (or blogworthy as Dave would call it -- by the way, he finally started posting again so you may want to drop by the Conch sometime... don't get cozy though, he's bound to abandon us again!) will pop up and I'll rant about that for a while.

Today, my thoughts wander to my "familiarity phenomenon". Or at least to a better way to phrase it. It's like this -- I will meet someone and within a ridiculously short period of time they will treat me as if they have known me for a long time. Either by teasing me or joking around with me or asking my advice about something or giving me advice about something or going into long drawn out stories about their personal lives, and my (internal) reaction is somewhere along the lines of "have I met this person somewhere before?" I can't figure this out, but it does happen frequently.

Two recent examples... In my Dwelling training class, my teacher started making remarks about how perhaps I should avoid caffeine, given my talkative nature and so forth -- and this was before she even knew me for two full hours. I commented today that generally people know me at least for a little while before they start giving me a really hard time and she shot back that even though it's been three days, it feels like forever and she's wondering why she's still talking to me. And that's about right, as many people who have in fact known me forever often wonder the same thing! Which is what I said.

Then, last night when I was at the doctor's office I asked him about how dieting could affect my, er, cycle (a story you DON'T want to hear) and he wound up going off on this tangent telling me about HIS trials and errors with dieting and trying to lose weight through exercise and the Atkins diet. Even complaining about how he had ran for 20 minutes on his treadmill the other night and figured out that he only burned 250 calories. I just wanted to flag my arms in the air and say, "Hello? What about me? What does this have to do with ME?" The one situation where I should have felt comfortable being like this as I was actually paying him to talk to me about me.

I have a fear that if I ever did go into therapy, the therapist would wind up doing one of these things too. "Yeah, Heather -- that traumatic thing from your childhood, that actually reminds of this thing that happened to me last week. Let me ask you about this."

These things happen to me more often than not and I can't figure out what it is about me that invites this behavior. Sure, I'm friendly but it's ultimately in a bitingly sarcastic, self-centered and bitchy kind of way. Are people drawn to this character type? Because it's not warm and fuzzy by even the broadest leap of the imagination.

I'm not even saying that I mind it, per se. I like people for the most part and while I don't want to take on all of their problems, I don't mind hearing about them. I don't mind being teased or I wouldn't have the friends that I have and I CERTAINLY wouldn't have the fiance that I have. It's just that it's odd. Sometimes I will be out somewhere with other people and something like this will happen where someone will start chatting with me like they've known me for years and the person I'm with will ask me later if I knew that person and it's like "nope". Never seen them before in my life but apparently I was the one they needed to share the news about their boyfriend cheating on them with their mom with. What're you gonna do??

Anyways, I was just wondering about that and remembered that I wanted to blog about it because of the brainstorm blogging thing...

Gotta roll because I want to hit Target before I go to class tonight. FYI, hearing still not back and it's getting more and more annoying. My left ear is getting a little tired of all this listening and sometimes it just tunes out. I'll keep you posted.

What was that again?

I am currently experiencing a (hopefully) temporary loss of hearing, just in one ear. In case you didn't know, it seriously sucks. Because it's only just bad enough to be annoying, not enough to be completely gone.

I overreacted a little because of the deal with Mom and went to the doctor tonight. I think what he said (out of the words he used that I could understand) is that I have "generous" tonsils which when even slightly inflamed can cause my eardrum to swell and hamper air exiting through my ear and thereby causing this problem. All I know is that when they did a hearing test, I apparently have NO voice response hearing in my ear at all. Scary.

Which I actually could have told him because when people were talking to me today if I wasn't turned the right way I could either barely hear them or couldn't hear them at all. It was very interesting. I had half an idea of what it felt like to be hearing impaired and I didn't like it at all. Which I always knew, but sometimes it's nice to get a reminder so I can appreciate these things more often.

So, I'm medicating for a little while and we'll see.

I do try to sweep it under the rug and say that I think I'm just overreacting, but even if the reaction is OVER -- I do still have the emotions that are associated with that and when I woke up this morning and the whoooshing was still going on, I wanted to go back to bed until I could wake up and not have it be true anymore. Seriously.

That's all for now...
HP

Ketchup

Okay. Sorry for being so lax. I've been dieting so the lack of carbs has diminished my creativity. But today is BLOW DIET DAY (DIET, honey -- the diet is getting blown) so I've been a very bad girl. Yet, consequently now have a bit more energy to post a little.

And is the lost weight really worth the lost posts from me? At what cost thin? one must ponder.

Whatever. Like thin is even an attainable or even desirable goal for me. It's like Daddy says about wedding expenses, we're not "saving" money -- we're spending less. I don't want to be thin, I just want to be less fat!

Which brings me to the first topic that I have noted I wanted to comment on. Jeans Hierarchy. This week was a good week for me because in the hieararchy I have my thinner jeans, my fat jeans, and my Oh MY God I'm fat jeans... There for a while the OMG jeans were the only contender but this Friday after several past (and failed) attempts, I was finally able to get back into my fat jeans. Either that or I just stretched 'em out enough to make it possible from all of my previous attempts. Who knows? But I'm going to thank the low carbs. Which I WILL start doing again tomorrow.

But, seriously -- if you could go to the Village Inn and NOT have their pancakes, then you've obviously never had their pancakes before and don't know what's good. Some things are worth blowing your diet over.

Also on the agenda has been wedding planning. We're honing in on a date, but then there's always something. So and so is travelling or the other person is already in a wedding and so and so has a big, huge event that weekend. On and on. We can't get married when it might be good for US because of having to factor in other people's agendas. Don't get me wrong, I want those people there and I'm glad to have enough notice of their agendas, but it's still a little frustrating. Because I'm already having to stake my claim against people who have had places booked since 2002! Ridiculous. Maybe we should just get married live on the internet and have everyone log in to the site at a certain time. Then folks can wear what they want, drink what they want, eat what they want and all they have to have is internet access.

And can someone PLEASE tell Scott that you just can't email weddding invitations for the love of God. I know he's just kidding, but DO I know that??

Speaking of wedding craziness, I think I may have narrowed down the dress selection. I'm down to 2 or 3 potential candidates. The moms are going with me today, so it's REALLY on! Please wish me luck because I am going to need it. I'm usually not intimidated by decision making, just leaping on in. But I really hate to do this because I'm spending an exorbitant amount of money on something I'm only going to wear one time. That's a hard pill to swallow.

But looking at the time, I best grab my spoonful of sugar so I can make the medicine go down because got to motor on over to pick up my mom and hit the big, foofy dresses. Woo-hoo!

love you all,
HP

Blog Madness!

I like it! These guys have created a Blog Madness thingy, somewhat similar to March madness. They'll pick the best of the best.

I submitted the September 6, 2003 entry Lovingston Cafe reports record sales after blond's blog". I think this may be a contender but since there are no prizes associated, I'm willing to live if I don't dominate.

Somehow, I will persevere.

Especially if I go to bed right now and get half of a decent night's sleep!

If Crazy calls, tell her I went out for cigarettes

Have you ever conjured anyone up? I think I did. And I don't even believe in this, but I knew this guy who did and he was pretty convincing about it...

When I was growing up, my parents had this friend named Stephanie. She was a little kookie, even for the 70's. She was about 6 years younger than my mom, but acted significantly younger because she was chronically single. (A year or so ago we could have also called that "my life") She met Mom while Mom was working for the government and somehow they stayed friends even after Mom's surgery and everyone else fell off the planet.

Stephanie had this fabulous apartment in Hague Towers in Norfolk and I used to just LOVE to go and visit her there. She was just so interesting to me and she considered ME interesting. I was like the daughter she couldn't have, so she just got to be friends with me. She eventually married this horrid man named Fred (are there good men named Fred?) and I became a teenager, so our little friendship pretty much faded. The last time I saw her was when I graduated from high school and she came to the graduation party that my parents threw and was going on and on about this wonderful man that she had met who was extremely wealthy. And this was around the time that she drifted away from Mom and Dad or vice versa -- who knows?

Well, recently I was in Norfolk (with Scott's best friend actually, on a "football widow date") and we drove by the Hague Towers and for some reason it summoned up the memory of Stephanie. I wondered whatever happened to her and why the fallout with my parents and so forth. It was just briefly, but apparently enough to send the cosmic message.

When she called, it almost wasn't even surprising. She gave me her maiden name and asked me if I remembered her and I assured her that I did. It was unbelievable -- she just started going on and on and ON about all the good times we had had together and how she has been thinking about my mother and wanting to get in touch with her and how she called last year and Dad never returned her call. (Which isn't surprising.) I caught her up with the family news (this is what you do when you're older, apparently -- trot out the dead and the living to re-examine whenever you see someone you haven't seen in a while... What happened to so & so? Dead. Divorced. Missing. Whatever.) She's still married to the Jewish guy that she apparently got right with Jesus because he goes with her to the First Baptist Church in Norfolk every Sunday, Heather -- "you should go, Heather. We'll go this Sunday. And then I'll take you to lunch, just like I always did." Okay, Crazy.

It's just unbelievable to me how people pop into your life after years and years away (I mean, she's been gone so long she didn't know that Grandma had died and Grandma died in 2000, and then talking about "I loved her", puh-lease) and then try to act like they've never been gone. She told me all about her crazy life -- their house is so big she usually puts up 18 Christmas trees. EIGHTEEN, do you hear me? That's a small forest, that's not Christmas. She has 7 cats and they all have 2 names. She has never gotten a gray hair yet and she's 54. That pissed me off, since I'm only 30 and I've got 'em. She offered to throw me a wedding shower. Can you imagine?

C-razy! I emailed my mom and let her know that Crazy was trying to get in touch with her and if she didn't want to see her, well I would probably have to change my phone number. She was kind of scary, the only reason I'm not too concerned about her stalking me or something is because she doesn't know how to use their computer so she wouldn't know how to mapquest my address.

Thought I would share, because it was a bizarre thing. Next time -- stories from the Atkins Diet Warfront.

love you!
HP

Inside Heather's Ditzy Questions

Explain something to me... If antibacterial soap is the only kind of soap that gets those nasty germies off, what is the point of washing your hand with other kinds of soap? What do THEY wash off? What are the other kinds of germs other than bacteria that we are worried about?

I wonder this in part because Scott just changed around all the soap in his house to accomodate my parchment like skin (wasn't that sweet?) and bought a bunch of moisturizing type stuff. The new hand soap is awesome and really helps my hands feel smoother (it's a version of Softsoap called Milk & Honey) but it doesn't say "antibacterial" on the bottle. So, what does that mean?

This is part jest and part genuine question. Any takers?

The End of Sex

First there were only 8 episodes left, now there are only 7. It's too depressing for words. I'm talking, of course, about the end of Sex and the City on HBO.

With The Sopranos coming to an end soon, I'm not really sure what's the point of continuing my HBO subscription. But, the loss of that show is really nothing compared to the loss of Sex.

Every show I walk away sad that it's over. Wanting more. I've never glanced at the clock and marvelled at how slow the time was going. Just seems like one minute the cheesy opening music is rolling and the next minute someone has muttered something profound and the credits are rolling. I am going to cry like a BABY during the last episode. I'm just so sad to see it go.

I never could really identify fully with any one of the characters, but if I had to pick one I suppose I would vainly pick Carrie. I think she's the mix of all of the remaining girls. She has a good girl side and she also has a bad girl side. She's been hurt and she's been the one to hurt someone. She's romantic but she also just wants to get some sometimes. I went through phases of being like all the girls. A little Samantha when I was in my "wild" phase. (Trust me, it was MUCH less wild then I try to play it up to be.) A little Miranda when I was in my post-divorce and sick of men phase. And now, a little Charlotte with my stage of hopeful romance and dreams of being a fairytale princess. (Sickening, I know, but please bear in mind I was at a bridal show today and take pity.)

From tonight's show, we had Carrie taking a "luv-ah" (said with unidentifiable foreign accent) in the older Mikhail Baryshnikov (whom we'll be calling Mik if we have to use his name again -- OY!), whose character is Aleksandr Petrovsky an artist. Man oh man, he is some kind of sexy. I mean, I had to sponge off after. The man makes me want to go and watch men in tights and I'm not even into that ballet stuff. He just gets to nibbling on her neck and speaking with that thick accent and oh my God, did it get hot in here?? Let me turn the fan on!

Anyways, and then Samantha got hooked up with that Richard Wright guy because she can't trust this thing with the younger guy. That was messed up, it hurt my heart to see that. I mean, I don't trust younger men either -- but Smith's good people. And he's 30, which is in the trustworthy age-group. (Sorry to all the youngun's & youngun lovers out there, it's not personal. I just like my men aged, that's all.) Miranda had some uncomfortable run-ins with her former lover, the chocolate Robert. And that made me think -- how much would THAT suck?? To live in the same building with someone you dumped to get back with your former boyfriend? I can tell you that working in the same place is pretty darned uncomfortable, but then these things have a way of ironing themselves out sometimes don't they? ;-)

If you're interested in checking out some of the Sex and the City stuff, then you can wander over here and peruse to your heart's content. I've got the fever so bad that I think I'll be renting the entire season soon. I'd really like to own them all because I could definitely watch them over and over but just can't see spending all that money. Because I'm cheap... In a frugal way, not in a dirty way!

Off to finish stripping Christmas...

xoxo,
HP

That Man doesn't go with those Pants!

I was actually going to post a few thoughts on New Year's Day, but alas Blogger had other things in mind. Namely, not allowing me to post anything. Just as well, it was a bit of a whine anyways...

Went shopping because I had a store credit from Christmas return and had planned to buy myself a couple of sweaters to revamp my sweater collection. (That's right -- just like every other year's semi-annual closet review "I hate my clothes" and "I have nothing to wear" remain the consistent verdicts.) Unfortunately, sweaters all now seem to have this cable knit thing going on, that's just a little too reminiscent of the 80's preppiness. Then, I was going to buy a pair of loafers to replace my torn favorite clunking shoes -- and all the stores have are even clunkier, even uglier shoes. I'm not opposed to ugly shoes, but this is getting a little out of hand. Who decided that bowling shoes were a good idea in the fashion world? I thought about buying a pair of men's black loafers, but I got a bit of teasing when I brought THAT up.

An interesting way to segue... Because I had to bring it up later on. It's not like the man was there shopping with me. And as much of a proponent as I am about togetherness, this is one thing that I do not get. Why do women bring men shopping with them who clearly do not want to be there?? You see these men, following their women, in the department stores with this hang-dog expression on their faces. And they look so pitiful and bored, just like little kids in the fabric store. (Credit: Tony) Why are they there? What is the nature of this relationship that the men would agree to go and the women would want them to go when they so clearly don't want to be there?? I do not get this. I know that there are men who, for whatever reason, do actually go shopping with their women and even help them pick things out. This even happens within my own circle. I think that's great but this is not what I'm talking about. Those men are the exception, NOT the rule. Most men would rather eat glass then go shopping with women, even if serious sexual favors are offered AND there's nothing to watch on tv.

Do these women need someone else's opinion so badly that they're willing to torture someone to get it? Is it that hard to figure out other ways to not have to lug your own coat around? Have the men done something so wrong that they feel they deserve this punishment? Are the women that unbearable if they don't get their way?

Because you know these people are fighting like cats and dogs on the way home. "Why don't you ever tell me when something looks bad?" "Why would I do that -- so you can yell at me about how I don't like the way you look anymore?"

Women, unless your man is a closet homosexual, then please go shopping without him. If I see you out and about, I promise I will tell you if something looks good or not. (I do this all the time -- surprise!) Leave the man at home.

Unless your mall has implemented this thing I just read about in the Parade... It's basically Man Daycare. You leave the little man in this "play" area, where for like $12 he gets 2 beers and a meal, along with home improvement tips, football matches, that kind of thing. Maybe some Hooters style waitresses for good measure, I don't know. If they have that, then take him but drop him off.

It's the only humane thing to do!