"You might be procrastinating writing your research paper when..."

*you can't fight the urge to blog, which has been absent for the last several days

*you have the urge to exercise and get fresh air, both of which are usually dreaded more than going to the dentist in the average person

*you wish you had a dental appointment, as getting your teeth drilled is a less painful alternative than the idea of sitting down and putting your rambling thoughts into a coherent paper

*you consider watching football with your sleeping spouse

*you do laundry or dishes, vacuum, or mentally redesign your bathroom/kitchen/whole f-ing house

*you feel compelled to do Math homework

*you decide it's time to finish writing those thank you notes from your (no-so)recent wedding

*you offer to cook dinner

*you catch up on your correspondence, phone calls with the air of one who is about to do hard time in prison

*you clean the catbox

*you start trying to write your Christmas list or trying to come up with things to do for New Years Eve

*you shop online... after all, many presents to buy for coming events, can't put that off!

*you play Solitaire as if you were about to enter a national competition

*you actually balance your checkbook

*you consider dropping out of school but realize you would have to pay back your employer since it's after the official Add/Drop date

And therefore, you go back to writing your research paper....

Every now and again I have one of those "I'm really NOT single anymore -- duh!" moments. You may laugh because this seems like such an obvious thing to realize but it doesn't always sink in. Considering that I spend many nights staring over the top of my computer at the living embodiment of my lack of singleness, it surprises me too.

The lack of singleness is particularly glaring on Monday morning when I am asked what I did all weekend and I have to struggle to remember. And not for the same reasons that I used to struggle to remember. (Those glaring reminders that I WASN'T single.) I would struggle to find a story that could be shared with the rest with my fellow cube-mates that wouldn't land me in HR. There were times it was more of a struggle than others. Domesticity doesn't have the same juicy vignettes, as it turns out. It's not that I'm bored, it's that I miss the juicy tidbits.

After all, the juiciest thing that happens in my married life is if we have a "run in." And while it used to be fun to pick those things apart with anyone and everyone willing to listen, when you're married you join a cult. A Relationship Cult. You don't talk about the run-ins or the imperfections. That would mar the dream for everyone else, especially my single friends. They all need to believe that what they pine for is WORTH pining for, or what would be the point?? So, you don't share your run-ins and this can often leave much out of the recounting of your weekend. Not to mention leaving your blog a little lacking in material.

What's the answer? Talk about the spats and pick them apart for all of your friends (and all of the internet)? I'm against that. The spats tend to expand to the nth degree when exposed to air. However, sitting on the spats has been known to cause hemorrhoids. (This is scientific fact, my friends.) I've often thought about trying to pick up some hobby that I could get really into to exorcise the Spat Demons, but what if we were in a heavy spat zone and I crocheted 17 sweaters? I'm thinking someone would figure this to be a sign.

So, it's the Relationship Cult that keeps your tales short and your blogs less bloggy. Because the fact is if I were posting some of the stuff that comes up in arguments, it really could make some people laugh til they peed in their pants. I'm not making this up, it's crazy. This weekend it was about grapes. I mean, seriously. Grapes. It doesn't get any sillier than this.

I guess I should take that grapes of wrath stuff more seriously next time, huh?

I've been worshipping at the altar of my rabbit again. If you can get past the subject line, scroll down to the 9/15 piece and there we have the single person's take on "The Child Thing." I LOVE the fact that she calls herself a "thirty-something childless whore who loves her dog a little too dearly".

It's not that I regret taking the leap into settled down and NOT swingle, but it's comments like that that make me miss that attitude of being single and not settled down. The busting doors down and Full Heather Jacket in your face attitude. Frankly, it didn't win me a lot of friends or influence anyone, but damn it -- it was fun for me. And in the overall scheme, who matters more? If I'm fun for everyone else and not for me, what is the friggin' point??

As for winning friends and influencing people, just to digress -- I can't really be bothered to do that even now. I mean, shit, I don't even have time for the friends I have NOW -- how dare I try to bring anyone else into the ranks? It's some weird addiction to people that makes me keep reaching out, maybe. There's this girl in my math class that's pretty cool. We joke together about how taxed our brains are. It really brings me back to high school and Grace Shen and I in the back of Algebra II/Trig, Sophomore year. That was maybe some of the most fun I had in high school... Anyways, enough on that some other time. Perhaps in Heather's long lost friends episode. (Note just for me: this will always make me think of sexually transmitted diseases, eh?) Where was I? Ah, girl in math class. I realized that I wished we could become friends when she uttered the phrases "conjunction junction, what's your function?" right after it had just ran through my head. 'This is not a reference everyone is familiar with, these people don't grow on trees, get her in the fold!" my brain was screaming.

But, I can't. I don't exactly have the Midas touch when it comes to acquiring new friends. More often than not, after people become friends with me their lives inevitably just get fucked up. It's a weird coincidence and I'm not saying that *I* am to blame, but it has happened more than once which is cause for pause. If, shortly after becoming friends with me, your boyfriend were to dump you and then force you into a situation where you still had to live with him as his roommate because you couldn't find anywhere else to live... If, shortly after becoming friends with me, you leave your relatively secure job for a new exotic position which turned out to be managed by a psycho and then when you were laid off were prevented from returning to the previous secure job because of the previously mentioned psycho... Well, if these things happened to you, you'd be wondering about the kharma too. I'm just saying.

Off to the dump to rid my car of boxes -- woo hoo!

It's been rather random inside Heather's head... Here are some of the things I jotted down that I wanted to throw on the blog...

I got to talk to My Diane, one of my favorite people in the world last night, and she was asking about the wedding. And I was like OH, that was soooo long ago. I think she thought something was remiss with my tone, but it's no -- it was just so long ago. It's amazing how 2 months can seem like such a long time when things that happened years and years ago seem to have just happened. I am ALWAYS amazed by this -- it's one of the most intriguing parts about getting older, to me.

Diane says she doesn't have a savings plan for retirement because her plan is for her kids to be rich and take care of her. I replied that I have Scott for this. He replied with a big, booming Scott-like HA!

We don't really want to be rich though, Diane and I, we just want to have enough money to take a trip. I think she feels a little guilty that she couldn't come to the wedding. To which I responded -- I would rather have you visit my MARRIAGE than my wedding, then you can really see what it's like and I can really get to spend time with you.

Other thoughts... Sometimes when someone asks me something, I get so wrapped up in my explanation that I have actually forgotten the question. I'm searching their faces that my answer is getting closer to the question, some sort of sign. Sometimes I see it and I'll keep talking about what I'm talking about. Wouldn't it be easier to just admit that I've forgotten the question or didn't understand it?

"The Apprentice" is back and it's better than ever -- my tv addiction will never end! I get so irritated whenever the men isolate a woman to be fired and I always think "Oh it's because she's a woman and she's strong..." But in the reverse situation, I always think "Oh the man's an ass and he deserves it!" Um, oops! [Sidenote: Cannot BELIEVE that Bradford was so dumb he let himself get fired when he had a FREEBIE! Dumb dumb dumb -- he deserved to be fired!]

Favorite Apprentice quotes: "Mosaic is kicking our ass in such a big way and we don't even know it."

"You could put dog feces in this that ice cream and it is going to taste good."

Yikes -- seriously need to go to work!

Shameless plug for my fabulous husband's blog: http://parttimesuperhero.blogspot.com/

He's deviated from the Mominator story, but truthfully -- who wants to talk about THAT?

My topic won't be quite so serious. In fact, I am now vowing to not read HIS stuff before posting my own because it just makes me feel even more shallow. Ha, as if it were possible for me to feel MORE shallow! ("As opposed to being from the planet 'look at me, look at me'")

Speaking of being shallow, it's amazing to me that as I add new and more costly things to my list of beauty indulgences, ultimately the only purpose they ever seem to serve is to add to my ever-present burden of guilt over... everything really. Not sure where all this guilt came from.

Here's an example. I got my first facial this weekend at this eclectic spa in Richmond. [Sidenote: doesn't it make me sound oh-so chi-chi to have gone all the way to Richmond just to go to a spa? If you'd been to the spa, you would see, however, why I chose to use the word eclectic. I mean, when you're scheduling a group of four people, does it NOT make sense to have 4 different people to provide their services? I'm just saying... Not that I'm bitter about this.] During the course of the facial, I basically felt as though I was confessing all of the ways in which I had sinned against my face, while in a chair that closely resembled the dentist. This just made me more confused and I started to confess about how infrequently I floss. That just led to further guilt about not writing my mother more often, the woman who should have taught me better flossing habits. Augh, now I'm thinking bad thoughts about my mother which is causing my brow to furrow which can only cause wrinkles which are further exacerbated by my tanning, smoking and lack of water drinking bad habits.

Sigh.

No wonder I can't relax. It's a never ending cycle, this guilt thing. How can a person who grew up a spoiled only child feel so guilty about getting things and having things and not doing enough things or doing too many things?? Is it because I feel I can never repay the debt? Don't I work hard to have the things that I do and to keep the people in my life if not completely happy at least not miserable? Why do I feel so guilty? Why is it never enough?

I have so much that goes on inside my head sometimes that I just want to release the pressure valve and let it all out and start over. Let's have some fresh thoughts in here, fresh ideas. No more guilt over things I can't control. No more guilt over things I WON'T control. No more self-abuse. No more passive aggressiveness. No more... NEUROSES!

Well, maybe I'll keep the neuroses for a little while longer. I believe I can be me without them, but they're fun to have around. It's nice to bring them out and show them to certain people sometimes and shock them with their rawness. It's always so funny to me, the people that I come across who really think that I am that Heather Show they always see. That really think I have no downs and no lulls and that really think I am truly as balls to the wall as I pretend I am. I think this is why I'm so prone to questioning that behavior in other people. But then again, that's probaby just projection.

We-ell, I'm dangerously close to wandering all over 7000 different philosophic rants about the nature of being human, but it's late but not too late to ease my withdrawal pangs a little by feeding my addiction a few pages of my book. (I'm reading The Crimson Petal and The White,if you're interested.)

I can't believe I have to admit this, but I really didn't know what it meant to be in a red state vs. a blue state. I just knew that in some states, it apparently "doesn't matter" if you vote or not because it's already decided. (This is sad. Can I move to a state where it matters? How much time do I have??)

Anyways, while searching for this information -- I came across a "are you red or blue" quiz, which was interesting. As it turns out, because I happen to know a lot of "red facts" I come across as red.

Who knew?

My list of things to do is ever-increasing and source of consternation in my marriage. This is pretty funny considering that it's mostly things that I have to do and he doesn't even really know how long this list is. (it's long -- very long.) I spend most waking moments shuffling my mental day planner trying to figure out when the fuck I'm going to clean my house again. Or even have time to nag him to do it! I have a weekend open the end of the month and I'm already convinced this must mean that I have forgotten something that I have to do. This is the only logical explanation.

After all, there's no way I REALLY have time to write a research paper in advance, do I? :-)

More than one draft, indeed!

I really want to blog because I'm here in Charlottesville for Katrina's bachelorette weekend. But, I'm tired and have drank wine all day and had a nervous breakdown last night (wow, will I really blog about that?) and just want to say... I love being able to overanalyze my life with women -- screw you Jennifer, talking is GOOD!

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and
the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and
endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)

I love this so much I would actually like to put it on the side wall of my blog. Believe it or not, this is almost my creed. Which is a bit contrary to my other philosophy

Practice random acts of sarcasm, and senseless acts of cynicism. -Heather *** (1973-?)

It's hard to have both of these desires at the same time! ;-)

Seriously, can anyone show me HOW to put this on the side wall of my blog? It's the closest I'll ever get to prayer, eh?

Just to break it down, though Lord knows I HATE to over-analyze things (see, random acts...) here are some of those things that I have managed to accomplish.

To laugh often and much: Well, I think we all know just how often and how much. Even my stoic grandmother can attest that I'm always laughing, always happy. And Tony Kahlua can mock me for hours about just how loud that is.

to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children: I don't think it counts that I have faked the funk and gotten the intelligent people to think I was one of them. I've never really had the affection of children and even when I have, it's very fleeting. Perhaps this can explain my issues with "the kid thing"? Anyways, these two things are yet to be checked off the list.

to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; I have occasionally touched on the appreciation of an honest critic, but only by virtue of an association with someone said critic ACTUALLY appreciated. (If I am interpreting this phrase correctly.) And if there is anyone who cannot recite the story by heart of my own endural of the betrayal of a false friend then raise your hands because you are few and far between. Julia, I already know you forgot but at least you remembered that you forgot -- it doesn't count.

to appreciate beauty: You can't live in South Dakota for 5 years and not be able to appreciate beauty. It's kind of outside your door most of the time.

to find the best in others; I struggle with this. I think to be able to see this, you have to find the best in yourself. I REALLY struggle with that.

to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy
child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life
has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)

I guess this is why I am so drawn to "damsels in distress." While I rarely acquire new friends at my age, it often seems as though when/if I do they are friends I'm trying to rescue. To provide misguided therapy to the desperate masses by sarcasm and blunt cynicism, that is my plan to save the world! :-)

Perhaps I should leave this stuff up to my husband the part time super-hero.

And tune in next time for And Baby Makes... Four?

blog is a word on weboggle

Heather (whining): No one ever comments on my blog anymore.
Scott (in a one-up manner): I only have 2 comments on MY blog.
H: You only have 2 posts!
S: Yeah, but one of them is you.
H: At least I COMMENT on your blog.
S: You don't ever say anything worth commenting on.
H: Now, that's some hurtful shit.
S: (Seinfeldian)What?! All you ever do is get on there and bitch about some stuff.

So, now I'm bitching about him saying I bitch about stuff. It really is a never-ending cycle!

Leave it to us, to fight over whose blog is bloggier.

H.

Do you ever have one of those days where you feel like ALL the years you spent trying to develop your self-esteem were completely in vain and all you've been doing is PRETENDING you have self-esteem all this time??

Errr, me neither.

Actually, yesterday was that day for me. I started out the day with the back pain I've been experiencing being at an all-time high. This made me start to get really paranoid that I had somehow re-aggravated the injury from cracking my vertebrae all those years ago. THIS made me remember HOW my back got cracked in the first place (thanks to my wonderful first husband) and reminded me once again what a complete idiot I was in the first place for staying with him after his complete and total lack of compassion throughout that whole ordeal. This is only 8 a.m. and I've already had a really healthy session of beating myself up. Only good things can follow!

Next, I'm driving to work and mentally mapping out an upcoming bachelorette weekend for one of my best friends. She has tagged me as her Maid (sigh, Matron, ick) of Honor and I just don't feel like I'm performing the task all that well. I mean, I have all kinds of rationalizations as to why, (I just got married, combining households, work full time, school part time, there's all this blogging to catch up) but they just sound like excuses and make me feel like I suck. We won't get into the planning of the weekend, but I'm not feeling up to my usual planning nazi level that usually makes us all so proud. (It's really not as easy as it looks to coordinate having 15 people at the same place at the same time all having fun on cue.) HP2 keeps trying to give me reassurances, but my self-esteem levels have reached levels that would cause a loud honking noise to go off if we were in a movie. (We are plummeting towards SelfEst 0. I repeat...) So, while it was a difficult task to accomplish because I am not a contortionist, I managed to get in a healthy dose of beating myself up on the way to work. Just feeling like, if this person who has been my friend for (yikes) 16 years can't rely on me -- who can???

THEN, I had invited a friend up for lunch at work. You would think I would remember this as I am always dying to have someone, anyone from the outside come up to see me (I have begged my husband every day since the beginning of beyond) and it never happens. When you only get half an hour for lunch, you don't have time to go out and see the world and let me tell you -- you miss the world more than you think you will. But, I digress. I didn't remember. I completely forgot and to top it off, my lunch was earlier than usual. So, she came up and waited and waited and waited in the lobby (the security at work rivals the Republican National Convention, no lie)... By the time I found out she was there (came back from lunch to a plaintive voicemail "uh, guess you forgot to tell the guy I was coming..."), she'd already waited probably 20 minutes and I couldn't even go see her because I had a meeting. Tony Kahlua to the rescue. I hate having other people clean up my messes, and this caused yet another round of knocking myself about.

We have our team meeting. I am reminded once again that I am not contributing to the overall welfare of the team because of my limited referrals (this is a work thing, takes too long to explain)... Two other co-workers and I are leaving to go to another team in a couple of weeks and one of the departing co-workers was greatly mourned because of her high level of referrals. We're REALLY going to miss her. They may miss me, but it's only going to help their bottom line when I'm gone. Sigh. Pow, pow.

I come home. It's been a long day of explaining hurricanes and their effects on your insurance. Scott has to work late and comes home to no dinner. This makes me feel like a bad wife. Yeah, I felt bad because of my back, but there are worse things in life and I should've sucked it up and fixed the man something to eat. Bam, pow. He was very supportive and thinking I was a little off in the head -- after all, when have I ever cared that I didn't cook?? Oddly, that just makes me feel worse.

Anyways. It's a new day. I'm a little better on the SelfEst scale, no alarms should sound today.

But then again, I have a Math test tonight and there's nothing like forgetting how to multiply to kick that back into the downward spiral...