VACATION

I will be off of work this entire week. My big plans mostly involve doing nothing. Zero, zippo, nada.

I have not had a do-nothing vacation in a long time. Not a whole week's worth anyways. Usually a three day weekend here or there, which generally isn't enough to do all of the nothing you want to accomplish anyways.

My plan is to finally get to the bottom of the laundry and clean our bedroom.

I'm hoping to do that today, but I have also met me so I'm not holding my breath.

That means that I will have more time to blog! Yay!

So, if you need me, I'm here. Mostly plan free! You can write, call, whatever.

Because I have a whole lot of nothing going on in here!

Merry Christmas one and all!

Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.— Oren Arnold

I feel like a million bucks!

I feel crazy happy these days -- this is the part of the hormone cycle that I LOVE! That almost makes up for the PMS part.

It's this sheer total happy feeling that just takes over and makes everything really shiny and bright. Where everyone is great and you love them and can't imagine ever feeling unhappy again? There's a sense of triumph over the unhappy phase, like HA! I beat that and look how bad I am.

It's Christmas and the promise of the New Year and losing 25 lbs and being with Scott and all of my friends being happy and on and on!! It's like the Tigger in your heart is God.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Are you guys really THAT pissed off that I am wishing you happy holidays rather than Merry Christmas?

What if you really are against Christmas, like Scott's best friend?

What if you are Jewish?

What if you are any of the other many religions that do not celebrate Christmas?

I think we have gone overboard in the other direction, yes. How offended are you really if I wish you Merry Christmas but you don't celebrate that holiday? It's not like I called your mom a whore or something, I'm just wishing you well. Hoping you enjoy the paid day off. Whatever. If you don't celebrate it, ignore the well wishes and assume that I was not deliberately trying to assume you are Christian or that you celebrate the holiday.

When did we get so fucking sensitive? I mean, we can't be too worried that the liberal media is taking over the holidays (this is one of the spins I have heard) because W got back in. I think we know just how separate the church and the state really are.

Because, if you are uncertain on this agenda, ask your gay friends when they're going to get married.

And on that note, MERRY FRIGGIN' CHRISTMAS and Happy New Year!

(Hope I didn't offend any Chinese people by not recognizing when THEIR year begins...)

Found this Quiz on Lori's blog

It's the Belief-o-Matic, which uses a personality test (of sorts) to help gauge what your religious affiliation is or should be. I was more than a little surprised to find out what my most suitable fit was... (followed by the rest of the Top 10)



1. Liberal Quakers (100%)
2. Unitarian Universalism (97%)
3. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestans (80%)
4. Reform Judaism (79%)
5. Neo-Pagan (79%)
6. Securlar Humanism (75%)
7. Mahayana Buddhism (74%)
8. New Age (71%)
9. New Thought (68%)
10. Taoism (67%)

Um, Quakerism? Hm.

Julia's begging for a blog and I know I need to put one out there, but I am still super-tired and recuperating from this weekend. I will try again tomorrow. Promise!

Silly things I should not be allowed to do

I should not be allowed to go shopping for things to put on my body when I am having a bad hair or bad face day. This goes double when I am having both at the same time.

I need to buy a necklace to go with my Christmas party dress, because the other 30 in my collection just aren't riiiight. So, I attempt to do this yesterday with my hair "artfully" up in bobby pins (I really dislike you Tina for showing me this can be done)... Needless to say, my hair is against being artfully up at all and the bobby pins started shooting out almost as soon as I got in the car. To top it all off, I had a blush incident that left me looking like a bad case of rosacea had come to live on my face. Did I buy jewelry? No.

Did the urge to buy things leave me?

No.

So, I went to Michael's where ALL I was going to buy was some poinsettias to put in the Christmas tree. But, they had these wreaths and this gawdy shiny stuff and $50 later, I was at home building a wreath. Frankly, I'm agains the gawdy shiny stuff, but Scott seems to really like it and he really likes things more than I really don't. So, whatever. We have mad sparkly, borderline tacky wreath for the front door now.

That was yesterday. Today, still, I have not bought the jewelry. I mention this to my godmother who suggests that she has seen some things that I may like at Target. I'm not feeling very well, the creeping crud that Scott has had managed to find it's way into my throat. (I'll let you use your imagination to figure out how it got there...) But, I really need to find this jewelry stuff and I want to get it over with. Again, no success. But, again -- has the urge to buy has not dissipated. I amble over to the cosmetics aisle, which is one of THE single most dangerous places for me to be alone. (Second only to a bookstore.) I will wander up and down for hours. Staring at colors and trying to imagine how they will look on me. I generally wind up settling on a lipstick that I will never, ever wear. Today, I managed to sate the beast with some accent eye shadow, but I really wanted the lipstick. It was the Color of Hope, damn it. Who wouldn't want their lips to be the color of Hope?? Honestly, I have a realy hard time resisting the lipstick buying. I know I have the lips for it, I know that it's almost an Angelina Jolie like crime that I don't. But, I don't. It's just too much trouble. I hate putting it on because I don't know how and I get all of the bleeding lines. IF I manage to get it right, then I have to keep it on. And in order to do that I usually have to not eat anything (Like THAT'S going to happen) or you have to keep putting it on.

Tomorrow? I'm heading out with my mom to try to find the jewelry again. I wonder what consolation prize I'll end up with this time...?

Stuffin'

Here's the thing. People sometimes think I am a little Grinchy around Christmas. I complain about the commercialization. I grouse about the shopping and the crowds and the wrapping and all of it.

I don't really get into the spirit.

Here's why. I don't like stuff. I have too much stuff and most of the stuff I have I don't really like. I can do my own version of the George Carlin routine. When I want stuff, I go get the stuff. There's not much stuff that I REALLY want that is out of my reach. But, I have not reached the stage of self-actualization to suggest giving the stuff money to a better cause. Instead, I suggest spending time together doing something that both the other person and I would enjoy doing. Eating dinner, getting our toes done, shopping for shoes, whatever.

I suppose I should not subject others to my stuff issues. After all, I don't really have a problem if they want stuff and I don't really mind being the one to give them the stuff. The main reason I try to avoid the stuff exchange is to prevent the other person from feeling obligated to give me stuff in exchange for the stuff I gave them. Think about it. How many times have you bought someone a gift entirely because you knew they were going to buy you one? It's never ending. Or you bought them a gift and they didn't buy you one. Then next year, they buy you a gift and so you have to get them a gift because they did. They didn't want to buy you anything but you got them something last year...

On and on and on.

It's crazy. Some of my friends have pointed out how much they enjoy going out and finding the thing and giving the thing and seeing the person's reaction when they open the thing. O-kay. Yeah.

Well, I agree with this. Because it's hard to find a middle ground. Not having anything to open on Christmas is shitty.

Shitty.

But having to deal with the stuff after the opening.

Ick.

That's shitty too.

So, perhaps there could be things to open but not stuff. And there are still things that I would like to get. Like books. And skydiving lessons. (Heh, heh.) And spa gift certificates. And books, did I mention that?

That's another blog. The books.

Maybe the certificates and stuff could be wrapped. Or just gifts that don't cost much money and aren't material. Like, promises of foot rubs and an hour without the tv on. (This is a gift I would actually be willing to pay for.) And so. Slips of paper and then wrapped up.

I don't know. Maybe if I had a whole Christmas completely without stuff, I would change my mind. I would miss the stuff.

But, I sort of doubt it.

At least, not until I get a bigger house.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE! Remember there can be stuffing without stuff!

help?

The stupid navigation stuff is on the bottom of the page. How did it get there? How do I get it back? (Previous posts and all that.)

I don't like it.

Bloody hell!

I keep fucking not blogging and then feeling bad about it. AND WHY? Why do I feel bad about not writing? Should I not be writing for fun?

I don't think I should spend the time I am writing bemoaning the fact that I don't write. This is one of the things I CONSTANTLY used to do when I kept a private journal. If you read my journal and extrapolated all of the parts where I apologize (ultimately to myself... well, and as it turned out also to my mother) for not having written, then years of journalling could be abbreviated to just a couple of years.

I was thinking about the journalling thing not that long ago. It used to be a BIG thing with me, big part of who I thought I was, and so forth. Because, I suppose, I used to imagine that I was going to Write. You know, important things that would be read and of course since I was going to be writing these important things that would be read than "the public" would probably want to know Who I Was Back Then.

Yes, I had an overly active imagination.

Apparently, not overly active enough to translate into the actual writing of things. But this fantasy persisted for quite some time. It's only been since my 20's in fact that I realized that I was not going to write anything and more so, that I was pretty okay with not writing thing as the actual writing would have taken time away from more important things. Like watching tv, talking on the phone and thinking about my hair -- VERY important pastimes.

One of the reasons I was thinking about this journalling thing is because of "the list." I have this list of things I came up with that I hadn't done and wanted to do. And I wrote the list 5 years ago and decided to pull it out.

Well, it's really sad because I have not done even one thing on that list. I'm wishing I had not found the list. These aren't even really crazy things, actually. Some of them are pretty basic. Some of them I do not want to do anymore, and some of them I can't believe I wanted to do then. (Which just goes to show you how worthless 5 year plans REALLY are, because 5 years later who knows who the fuck you're going to be and what you're going to want??)

Anyways, for the purposes of sharing... for your examination, but not too much criticism please...

• go sky diving
• go sailing
• go to Europe (my note was to see Paris and Ireland and England and Italy and all of the other countries I'm too ignorant to know anything about)
• go on a whale watch
• visit all 50 state capitols (note: would need to find out what they are, ha ha)
• learn karate
• learn how to make pottery with a wheel (I had probably just seen Ghost)
• fly a kite
• see the Northern lights
• skinny dip somewhere exotic (at least I have since skinny dipped -- or in my case, chunky dunked -- but nowhere exotic)
• have something published (ah ha -- the writer fantasy still at play!)
• learn how to play an instrument (no, Scott, that is not an instrument)
• go water skiing (okay, came close on this one -- got pulled in a tube and that was fun, although not very flattering)
• paint a picture on canvas (good thing I didn't specify that it had to be any good)
• work for a radio station (Why did I want to do this?)
• acquire an enviable cd collection (even then I didn't know why I wanted this according to my note)
• watch someone give birth (really not sure why I wanted to do this -- perhaps I didn't realize that The Baby Story was on TLC)
• refinish a piece of furniture
• fly in a hot air balloon
• learn how to develop film (again, this might be cool, but no overwhelming desire to learn how now)

And that was it.

It's funny the little things we think we want. The things that entice us and attract us and that we think will fulfill and complete us. The bottomless cup you keep on filling again and again.

Sorry, wandered down a blue path. Think I'll follow it to the wine downstairs. G'night!

Eggs Benedict Rule!

So, tonight I went to my WW meeting with fear in my heart. I knew I was going to get bad news on the scale, and I knew that I deserved it.

I was a bad, bad girl this weekend. We went out and had some drinks on Friday night, met up with the Rock and then had some food at the Village Inn.

Yeah, the Village Inn. Home of the best freaking pancakes in the world, except for that place on the Eastern Shore that Jan took me that time. (That was pumpkin pancakes -- something I have been craving for a long time...) We had burgers and fries on Saturday. Sunday I was so bad that I didn't "journal" my food.

Turns out that my ideas of "bad" must be different now... Because I lost 3.4 pounds and have just reached 19 pounds.

I am really delighted with that.

I'm averaging almost 2 pounds a week, which is what conventional wisdom says is average. I could probably lose more, faster if I were exercising -- but f- it, that'll come!!

So, that's it on the weight loss front... The thing is that I really, really love Weight Watchers. I could work there I like it so much. Like to talk about it, like explaining the points, like the meetings, like the people. It's just great! I wish I had seen the light a long time ago and it's hard not to have that regret.

But, no regrets. It's all good!!

here's the thing

I went through a period of watching a little too much Monk, and now I can't shake this expression. "Here's the thing..." I LOVE it, but it's a little addictive. The biggest problem being that no one knows that there is a reason behind WHY I say "here's the thing" and so it loses its pop culture relevance...

Anyway, HERE'S the thing... I feel really bad (or is it badly? Do I feel badly or bad -- I think it's bad) that I don't write more often.

[NOTE: As I am writing this, there is one of those gnatty things flying around and I am chewing gum... I am afraid of something going terribly wrong.]

I think of writing you all the time. I think of the things I want to write about and the commentaries I want to write about. I try to put a witty spin on little events. I give up, I try to be philosophical. I give up, I don't write.

The blog turned into the audience of the blog. Not that you are a large audience, but because I know YOU are out there and I am thinking of YOU and what you want to know about and read about and think about -- it changes me. It changes what I want to write about.

I wouldn't want you to... Well, I don't know. But, we're all fronting, aren't we? "We all have a face that we hide away forever" and all that. I don't really feel like I can unleash anymore.

And I can't, can I? It's not my private, super secret thoughts anymore. I've given you the web address, I've invited you to come out and read and even make comments, if you will.

Sometimes you comment, sometimes you read.

Here's the thing.

A lot of what I think shouldn't be distributed on the internet, but I lack the balls to stop blogging and put it in private again where it belongs.

Should I let you in on the things I really want to bitch about?

Should I keep a private and a public record of my life? I mean, I'm not really that important.

And frankly, it's not even that these things are so shocking -- unless one can be shocked by mundane-ness??

Maybe it's that I don't want you to know how much I really like to just whine and complain and not get things resolved. Because, actually -- I really do like that. I really, really enjoy complaining. I don't know why. I know this is a great character flaw that has left me virtually friendless in my ripe age of 32 1/2, but there it is.

Anyway, there was the thing. We'll see what happens. I'm definitely in a phase.

oops, I forgot to blog

Well, here's a little bit of what has been happening.

LAST Thursday, 10/6, was Scott's birthday. The Gods smiled on Scott on his birthday, and it was good.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Smallville Spoiler:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The reason that Scott's birthday was so good was because Lana Lang lost her coveted virginity to Clark Kent that day!

Oh. My. God.

That was amazing. The melodrama was so thick that my fingers got pruney from being immersed in it.

Julia: it was better than the Pirates of Penzance!! ;-) (You were nothing before you met me!)

I really never thought I would see the day that she would get "busted out" (ew -- Scott expression), but oh me of little faith!

Really, the best part of the episode was Clark punching Lex out, but since y'all probably don't watch Smallville, you could give a crap. But, it was mad hot ballroom exciting stuff!!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::End Smallville Spoiler:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


We wound up going out to dinner like three different days over the weekend and I thought FOR SURE that I had screwed the pooch on my weight loss. But I wound up losing 1.6 and hitting my first 15 pounds!

Mostly, the mood around has been gloomy because of the near-constant rainy and cloudy days. I'm on the verge of having those SAD lights installed throughout the house. It's really depressing. You don't want to get out of bed, you don't want to go anywhere, you just want to cry.

But, crying doesn't burn any calories!

Got my last History class this weekend. It's such a relief to have it over with, but I'm pretty bummed to be missing the wine festival. I have to admit to a bit of schadenfreude since the weather has been so crappy. Mean, eh?

Okay, we're caught up!

Another weight loss thing with a theory...

My co-worker that joined WW with me has been losing a bit faster than I have, and since I am competitive about the dumbest things (though, deeply shamed by it -- another blog) this has really been bugging me. She keeps saying she hasn't been "good" and yet she usually gets better results on the scale than I do.

Now, my theory is that I am losing weight slower because I have never actively tried to lose weight in my adult life for more than a few weeks. So, I'm thinking that I am losing the weight at a slower pace because my body isn't used to yo-yo dieting and so doesn't react as easily to lifestyle changes. I think this may be based on something I have actually heard about weight loss, so someone back me up here. What I have heard is that if you are constantly dieting that it's easier for your body to slip into that routine and start dropping the pounds at first and then you usually plateau at the point where you "leave off" every time.

True or false? Madame Librarian?? I'm deferring to you now that you have time away from your crazy work schedule. :-)

another exciting post about my weight loss journey - oh boy.

Got good news on the scale tonight -- I lost 2.6 pounds. I'm down about 13.6, which means that I'm averaging almost 2 pounds a week -- which is what you're supposed to aim for!

The thing about this that is a little intimidating to me is that if I continue on this same pattern even through the rough holiday times, then by the end of the year I could be down to about half of my goal weight. That would be amazing!!

Amazing.

But, also a bit unrealistic given the tempations of the season. Though I will say that one of the greatest up sides of having a small family is that the holidays are not usually filled with food for me. Since I myself do not bake, the only exposure I have is around my mom. And since she won't have anyone but herself to bake for... Well, never mind -- that doesn't stop her, my dad never really ate sweets anyways!

So, I have decided that I will be satisfied if I can lose the next 15 or so pounds to put me at my next personal "mini" goal and STAY there through the holidays, then I have accomplished more than many.

I mean, good Lord, a woman can only resist but so many cookies in her life.

So, my tip (if you happen to be a fellow Weight Watcher person who stumbled onto my blog) is if you're not going to capital E exercise, then find little ways to sneak it in a little bit. Scott and I have been shooting hoops a little bit, as we've talked about. I park my car as far from the door as I can in the morning and I try to take the stairs. (Though, to be honest, I'm far more successful at taking them down than I am up.) But, in general, I try to find little ways to sneak in walking throughout the day. I take a short walk on at least one of my breaks. If I have reading to do for school, I try to at least walk over to a further break area to sit to do the reading. I really believe that some of these little things must be paying off.

Maybe believing is enough, who knows?

Old

All the signs that I am getting too old are here. What to do?

Generally, I have been choosing comfort over fashion in the footwear department lately. I mean, I LOVE cute shoes more than a lot of people -- though not as much as many that I know. My quantity of cute shoes though has been diminishing based on my desire to wear comfortable shoes... Ick! I mean, what's next? Support hose?

I prefer to read more domesticated magazines than my usual staple of fashion single magazines. I can only learn how to put on eyeshadow so many times before I get completely bored. In Real Simple, I can learn alternatives to eye shadow if I run out AND an effective way to organize my closet. Granted, I'm not actually organizing my closet (please, I'm not THAT old), but the concept is intriguing.

I've lost my whimsy and replaced it with crankiness and anti-socialness. Don't believe me? Try calling sometime -- I'm all, "same old, same old -- nothing new." I'm liked Eeyore's less spunky aunt. What is up with that? Do I need more fiber? (Well, gee -- only an old person would think that fiber is the answer, so that must be it.) Was I always this cranky? I can't remember.

And so that means that I am forgetting things! Another sign of aging! You know how you're trying to remember something and you try so hard to remember it that then you can't remember why you wanted to remember it?? Yeah. Me too.

What was I talking about?

Oh, yeah -- how old I'm getting.

Just this weekend I was mocking my friend about her partying ways. She was complaining that everyone thinks she is drunk most of the time, and I was trying to explain that if you call people at 3:30 in the morning your time, people generally do not think you are sober. Because no one insomniac calls in the middle of the night -- no one has ever called it that. (This is the friend whose motto is "go big or go home" and yet thinks she can have a "low key" evening with just a couple of drinks... riiiight.) But, really -- this just makes me feel old. Because not only do I not party like that anymore, I really do not have any desire to do that anymore. Not out on the town at 7 different bars. The closest I get is out in my living room with 7 bottles of wine and good friends talking about men until all hours.

Some people say that not going out and partying is just part of being domesticated and getting more mature and whatnot, but I cry bullshit to that. Because all of that is really just code for the fact that we are too old and cranky to be able to hang for that amount of time!

At least I've been taking vitamins for years so I don't have to associate taking a handful of pills with being old. But, I do associate the fact that I am making a concerted effort to go to bed at a "decent' hour so I can get a good night's sleep with being old.

I'm thinking about retirement. I'm thinking about the fact that I can pretty clearly remember many things that happened 20 years ago -- 20 years -- and not have that seem like that long ago. I see kids who are 20 and they look 10.

And on and on. I'm trying to get a handle on this aging thing, but that's the thing -- you can't really hold on to it. Just a big hand full of the cellulite that aging (and, um, booze) has deposited on my butt and really worry because 20 years from now I'm going to think I looked GOOD now.

Peace!

The Notorious O.L.D.

Was re-reading an old post and decided to take the death test again.

Turns out, my life is getting shorter. This time I will die Thursday, April 2nd 2037. At the tender age of 63 years old.

I hope it's after Smallville is on. (I hear the Senior Citizen years are going to be hot.)

In honor of Banned Books Week

Through my weekly book-y newsletter (The Bookreporter.com -- if you like books at all, sign up for their weekly newsletter -- it's wonderful!), I learned that the last week of September is Banned Books Week. This is not a week where we burn books because they offend W -- it's a week where we celebrate the fact that we have the freedom to read what we want to read, even if others (even W) find it offensive.

The following is the list of the Top 100 Most "Challenged" (from ala.org: "A challenge is an attempt to remove or restrict materials, based upon the objections of a person or group.") Books.

I was shocked at some of the names on there, but not as shocked as I was that Scott doesn't even know who Shel Silverstein is. But, that's another blog.

Read one of these this week if you can, I know I am going to try to!


Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Giver by Lois Lowry
It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Sex by Madonna
Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
The Goats by Brock Cole
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
Blubber by Judy Blume
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
Cujo by Stephen King
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
Jack by A.M. Homes
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
Carrie by Stephen King
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
The Dead Zone by Stephen King
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

More on my weight

(You don't blog enough, whines the person whom I hadn't heard from since my dad died. Um, well -- you could write me...)

I had my first weight gain since my Weight Watchers journey. And as slight as it was (.4 -- whyyy did I not pee before I got on the scale??), it was still depressing. I mean, I was not "good." I ate pizza with my cousin and had 2 beers -- and they were not light beers. I had some pot roast on Sunday. I had some of Scott's burrito stuff this weekend. I haven't been exercising. It adds up. I should be grateful it wasn't more of a slide, but I guess since I really try to be SO careful in between those downslides that I just take for granted that it's okay to slip.

And it will be, once I lose some more of this 75 lbs.

I tell you I am more and more impressed with people who really use all of the 16 hours they are awake a day. People who exercise and go to school and work (sometimes more than one job) -- these are people who are just fucking up my excuses that it's not possible! I mean, am I supposed to go to the gym when the Gilmore Girls are on??

I jest. Of course I am supposed to and I do not.

But, too, I am tired of beating myself up for all of the things I don't do. All of the mistakes I make and all of the error. I am generally eating better than I have in my life. I eat fruit and/or vegetables at least two or three times a day. That is two or three times more than I was before. I drink milk every day. I really try to think about the things I eat. Fried things rarely touch my lips anymore.

So, I am going to start working on thinking about those things. Focusing on the positive steps I am making in my life. If I never lost another pound in my life and continued to eat this way for the rest of my life, I would be better off than I was before.

Anyways -- this is the real reason you don't get regular posts from me, Captain. Because they would either be about all of the weight I wish I was losing or all of the exercise I wasn't doing or about all of my school crap. (Just 5 classes away and a computer CLEP from an Associates. Never thought I could be this proud of having a lousy 2 year degree, but it's 2 more years than a lot of people, eh?)

Coach Big Daddy!

Recently, Scott's been talking about wanting to shoot hoops. I have no idea where this is coming from, but he is talking about it all the time. "I wanna get a basketball and go down and shoot some hoops!"

What are you, 10? Where is this coming from?? But, I really try to get enthusiastic about anything that might get us out of the house and off of our asses. I mean, Lord knows I can't really motivate myself to do that on my own -- I really need help. But, we have a strong ass-couch attraction on our house. Hello, we're Americans and if we weren't fat and lazy then the terrorists will have won.

But, I digress.

So, we happened upon a basketball when we were moving out the furniture from the condo. The last tenants had left behind a basketball. It was a souvenir one and not regulation size, but I managed to convince Scott that it would do for now. (Doesn't take much to convince him not to spend money, bless his heart.)

Long story short -- too late. We go down tonight to shoot some hoops. And it was great! I had a lot of fun and we got to spend some time together outdoors and teasing each other and just having fun. Then, he starts giving me pointers. And, totally not in some obnoxious guy way -- like, let me show you how to do that again because clearly you're just not getting it. It was just so sweet and supportive. Getting me pumped up about making easy shots, and then he was actign like it was so unusual that he was making all these shots. But, Heather you look like a pro! Totally stroking my ego, but in this amazingly supportive, noncondescending way...

And this was when I had the epiphany. Scott should be a school coach! He laughed this off -- he said he didn't know anything about sports. But, then started calling all of the parts of the basketball court and teaching them to me. Showing me the mechanics of what makes the shot good.

I am telling you all -- it was amazing. I just couldn't stop thinking about how many kids' lives would be better off with him in it. Just infinite amounts of patience and this perfect ability to push you without even realizing that he is doing it. It was like I saw him for the first time. Not because I had never witnessed this behavior in him before, but because I was just now really seeing it and appreciating him for who he is.

Seriously, it sounds a little crazy but I just wish I could talk him into it. No, it wouldn't be a great big salary or get us the vacation of our dreams every year... But, you know the saying, "you do what you love..." So, if you never work a day in your life, then who cares about money and vactions?"

Don't you think we want those things because we think they will bring us some elusive happiness that we just can't seem to achieve?



Wow.



Didn't think it was possible to blow smoke that far up one's own ass! Who knew??

All I am saying is that the world needs Coach Big Daddy -- fuhgeddabout over-analyzing why!

xoxo

H

ps -- Watched one of my favorite movies tonight I, Robot. It totally enravels me in the meaning of the universe and the great philosophical questions that I like to ask over and over. I turn everything into the meaning of life.

How fucking pretentious and silly is that?

Theories on disengagement...

While there are many issues associated with the engagement process, there are equally as many surrounding the disengagement process. Disengagement meaning those toxic situations that you just can't seem to get yourself out of. Or even when you DO get out of, can't seem to get over and just put behind you.

I think that most of us have had some form of toxic relationship. I had a former marriage that was toxic and didn't even learn my lesson then, because I followed that with a few toxic relationships or entanglements.

What is it that draws us into those situations? I'm not talking about the typical guy situations that we moan about -- the occasional flights into bad boyfriend behavior -- I'm talking about men who are incapable of treating you with anything resembling complete respect. Men who get into your head and live their rent free and then trash the place. BAD. Men that you convince yourself are right for you and overlook the majority of their flaws as an excuse.

And why? What is the reason? And how do you disengage?

All I can do is tell you what worked for me. First of all, you have to accept that you do not actually LOVE this man. Because loving someone doesn't come with but's. And you will hear yourself saying but I love him or I love him but. Nope. People have flaws. Treating you like crap is not a flaw, it is simply unacceptable. Lying to you, talking down to you, being unfaithful to someone to be with you, forgetting important personal accomplishments in your life, expecting you to do all of the work and not putting any effort in -- these are NOT flaws. This is a serious lack of character that you are deciding to associate yourself with. Why? Because you do not think you are worthy of better.

But, let me tell you something -- you are. You are worth more than that. You have to decide that, you HAVE to believe that, and then you have to believe that anyone who does not treat you with the same amount of respect that you treat him is not worth your time. Do not return his phone calls. Do not answer his emails. Do not send him any form of mail. Do not give him the time of day. Because you are undermining your value as a person each and every time you give someone value who makes you feel like anything less than you are.

If you went to a restaurant and your waiter did not bring you water or provide you with any service or even pay attention to you, would you consider that acceptable and reward that waiter with a BIG tip?? Because if the answer is no, then why would you reward with someone with pieces of who you are and information about you that he will only use to get into your head and hurt you more? Where is the sense in that??

It's not easy moving on. You've got to talk to people about it. Friends who don't accept your bullshit about he's a good person, but... If you don't have friends like this, then you need to get a counselor. You need to listen to a lot of music that is not going to make you sad and weepy and thinking about all the good times you had. You didn't have good times -- you just don't want to be alone.

Get over it.

Being alone sucks fucking ass, I'm not going to candy coat it. You hear empowered women telling you that to choose to be with a man is just a cop-out and that you don't need a man. Well, of course you don't need a man -- I myself have often used the phrase about women needing men as much as fish need bicycles. But that doesn't mean it isn't nice to have one around. BUT, that is where your thinking has to stop. Because while it's nice to have them around, you don't need anyone toxic around. You don't need them in your head, you don't need them in your bed.

The truth is that being in a successful relationship is actually a little boring. Because there is no drama. That's how you really know it's right -- you're a little bored. If you're not a little bored and you're tired of fighting all the time, then get out. Move on. It's not right. You're not getting any younger.

And, if you are already out, but you can't get him out of your head -- talk him out of it. Don't forgive him his trespasses. Don't forget his sins. You need to remember those things.

Disengage, my friends -- it's the only way to save yourself.

We found Julia...

...she was strung out, smoking a hookah in a Pakistani brothel.

It took 5 guys to remove her, but that was mainly because she kept performing on the hookah...

Theory of Engagement

Inspired by the tale of a recently engaged friend and a conversation said engagement sparked between my husband and me. This story is intended in a light-hearted manner and yes, everyone knows that as a free-thinking, independent woman of course you are not thinking about or waiting to get married to anyone ever. Not on purpose. But, just in case, you happen to a woman who is inclined to want to get married...

When friends get engaged, it generally will cause Scott and I to talk about our own engagement and some of the circumstances around it. Depending on the nature of the friend's situation, the aspects of this conversation are varied. But, generally at some point the topic will waiver to the state of shock he was in, and just how crazy I was. For my part, I couldn't figure out why he asked me to marry him if he didn't understand what exactly that meant. I mean, you're asking the question? This is a signal that you want to spend the rest of your life with me.

Finally.

And that is what I"m talking about. I already knew I wanted to spend my life with you! I have spent plenty of time sitting next to you or near you watching tv and just hanging out. I have seen you at your best smelled you at your worst (in places even I am too polite to mention) and I have figured out that, yeah, you are the person I'm going to be able to handle sitting next to or near watching tv and just hanging out for the next 25-50 years. I agree with you here, Scott, we're doing life.

So, since I already knew this, I was basically just waiting for you to figure it out too. I can see the pros and cons, and the fact is that there aren't a lot of people too willing to put up with either one of our asses (just take a look at our track record). And, the best part is, that we ARE willing to put up with each other's asses and have proven it. These are really the two most valuable key aspects in picking out a mate, in my not-so-humble opinion.

Meanwhile, in your side of the world, you are slowly starting to think that it's not that bad having me around. Sometimes you get your feet rubbed, sometimes you get other things rubbed, and while I do nag you a bit, you don't completely mind because this just gives you something to give me shit about and tease me. This is your favorite thing. You're thinking I'm the kind of person you could sit next to or near watching tv and just generally hanging out for the next 25-50 years. You use the question as a declaration of staking your claim as the sole possessor of the boo-tay! Let there be celebration and joy and quietness for days and months on end while you praise me for this decision! The decision is made, I have decreed it thus, now I want to go to sleep.

(This is much how you feel after you give him a really good show in bed and then he falls asleep right at your curtain call. If you do not understand this reference, then you are a lucky woman.)

This is what I realized after talking to Scott -- asking the question to them is the end. They have hit the climax in the show. What else is there? We get married -- ta da!

And meanwhile, the woman is standing there like, "Oooo-kay, welcome to the party so glad you could join us even if it is late." I mean, honestly -- once you are with someone for a certain period of time, don't you just know? I can't believe I am alone in this. Well... I guess the thing is that it goes back to the age old difference between boys and girls: we mature faster. We're ready sooner than they are to make the big leap.

And honestly, I'm not just talking about marriage. There's a lot to be said in even picking someone and committing to them that they are the one. I think the reason that I like marriage so much is that it just dresses up that commitment. Puts it in a prettier package.

But, I digress. It was just so funny to hear that men think that asking the question is the end (in a way) rather than just the mere beginning. I just get this funny picture in my head of Scott asking the question and then running down the mountain like the frickin' Sound of Music chick singing, "The hills are alive with the sound of music..." The weight of getting the asking done rising off his shoulders like little cartoon blue birds... I've asked and now she will be quiet about wanting to ask... Fa laaaa!

Ooookay.

Queen of the World

It's amazing how proud I am of myself for losing 5 little pounds. So proud that I really hate to diminish the accomplishment by calling them "little." After all, pick up a bag of flour -- that's what I lost this week.

I can't help but think that if I feel this good about losing 5 pounds, how good am I going to feel when I lose lots more??

I really hope it stays around, because I am feeling sassy! I haven't felt sassy in a long time, baby. The way I sashay around, you really would think that I had lost 25.

And the best part is that when something comes up and I say, "Ohhh, I can't have that" I don't even really feel that bad. I feel good that I can't have it and don't feel like giving in.

The flip side is that I'm thinking about the points and how to spread them out all the time. And because I rarely think anything on the inside, I'm talking about the points all the time. The good part of this is that I work with someone equally obsessed, but the bad part is that we don't sit right next to each other. The good part is that we've been talking about it so much around the desks of our coworkers that we inspired another one to do it herself. Yay! More people keeping track of points means more people giving me ideas of things to eat.

Actually, that's not really the challenge yet. The biggest challenge is keeping enough food in the house to eat. My next strategy is working out some sort of meal plan to make it easier to pack my lunch and such.

Anyways, I'm still excited. Week one going smashingly!

5

5 is the magic number tonight because it represents the number of pounds I lost since my first meeting!!

YAY!

How excited was I when I heard that? I was like running out of the scale room, interrupting the meeting -- it was crazy.

I can't even imagine how it really happened, but who cares? This is the first time I have lost weight on purpose in a really long time. The last time I actively tried and lost any weight was back in 1998.

And the best part is that it has been pretty easy. The hardest part is planning out what I'm going to eat during the day. Having a food map, as it were.

That and I haven't been through a full weekend yet. That's probably going to be hard -- but knowing how good facing the scale CAN be, it motivates me.

Just wanted to share -- going to graze on my "leftover" points for the day now! :-)

Weight WATCH

POINTS CONSUMED: 28

Today was the first OFFICIAL day on the weight watchers plan. (I started yesterday, but no office temptations made it easy.)

I'm a little hungry.

But, so far -- I enjoy it. It's so nice to think about healthy, low point options instead of "I can't believe I am this fat" all the time. Although, I really think that I think about food now more than I ever have in my life -- more than Julia Child did! In fact, I think about food more now than before I started a diet. But, I guess that's the point. I didn't think about food, I just put it in my mouth. And the thing is that I really did not eat massive amounts of crazy stuff, because it doesn't take that much. Bing!

It's really only because I have been keeping track of what I have been eating, that I have any idea of just how much I was eating before. I didn't think twice about nibbling on some chips while I was deciding what to have for dinner. (And by nibbling, I mean eating half a bag.) The chips would then become the dinner. Until I got to grazing again and I might have a frozen pizza. Or a bottle of wine. (Hey, it's kind of fruit.)

Anyways, I'm a little hungry. But, just a little. And, I'm kind of hoping that after the initial fervor dies down that I can stop thinking about points, but more specifically stop talking about them. Last year, I was in a class for work where about half the women in the class were on a diet and that was all that they talked about. How they couldn't eat this and they couldn't eat that and how they couldn't believe I was eating the other. It just drove me up the friggin' wall. Especially, since in most people's opinions, none of them needed to be on a diet. Some of them could use a sandwich. When you are thinking about your weight, never use a supermodel as your idea of what you should weigh, because newsflash -- there's a lot of airbrushing in magazines.

So far, so good. First weigh in Wednesday night.

fat

No one ever likes to use this word. But the fact is that I have gotten fat. And I don't want to be fat anymore.

So, tonight I took the plunge and I joined Weight Watchers. Paid for 10 meetings in advance, so I really don't have an excuse not to go.

I'm really nervous. I've never really lost weight on purpose before. Once I started gaining, that's all I did. I may have gained slower or plateaued, but this was almost entirely by accident. I have gone on diets briefly, but I never have the willpower to stay on them. And really, I don't believe in diets. If you eat only cabbage soup for a week, yes you will lose weight. But as soon as you start eating food that tastes good again, up up up and away you go.

I had major surgery back in 2000 and this is the most weight I ever lost since I started gaining. The stayed off for a while, but then I had a break-up and I took it really hard. Then I was in a relationship and I got really comfortable. After that ended, I plateaued for a long time. But, then I got in this relationship, and I'm very comfortable and relaxed and gradually I've been climbing up. I don't blame Scott -- though I doubt he believes that -- because he did not tie me down and put food in my mouth.

Honestly, I have always battled with low self-esteem. Gaining weight and keeping it on has given me a reason to feel bad about myself. I feel very protective of the weight and very anxious of the work I'm going to have to do to get rid of it. This is because I have low self-esteem -- I do not think I am capable of doing this. But, I am tired of thinking this way. I AM capable of doing this. It's not like it's rocket surgery or brain science.

Anyways, Weight Watchers is interesting -- you really learn the value of what you are choosing to eat. And basically, if you choose to eat less, then you're going to lose weight. If you choose to eat smarter, you're going to lose weight. I mean, I'm not an idiot. But, going to a group meeting every week and having to face that scale -- it's going to have to motivate me.

But, we'll find out. Perhaps I can add a Bridget Jonesesque tagline: points eaten 20, tears cried 1000000 or something along those lines.

Wish me luck in my journey -- I need all the help I can get.

I found that here. Where I like to go just to laugh my ass off about the t-shirts, even if I'm never going to buy them. :-)

Back to School

I start classes again on Monday. I am ridiculously excited about going back to school. There's something about the promise of it, you know? The new notebooks, the new folders, the new books all being tucked into my little red backpack to be carried off to class.

And, I'm taking classes that I am actually looking forward to taking -- Psychology and Sociology. Like, I'm studying people, y'all! :-) And History, which is usually okay if the teacher is animated enough. (History teachers and Math teachers seem to get really excited about what they teach. It makes me sad for them that most people dread taking their classes.)

The Soc class is being taught by the same guy who taught my Philosophy class, whom I adored. He is this COMPLETE hippy but in a smart way and just fascinating. I am not really sure how I managed to learn so much in his class about Philosophy, but somehow I did. (Not that I retained it, but still...)

I like being in class and being around the students. I like taking notes. I don't like the textbook reading part, because it interferes with my pleasure reading, but I try to make an effort at that too. Luckily, I am a fair enough student that I do okay without having to exert extreme effort into it. But, I also haven't had to do anything MAJOR in my college career as yet, so it's been easy to skate by.

But, like I said -- it's really just the promise of it. There's still some of the sensory memory of being a kid and the promise of a new school year. Fall was just a time for new beginnings -- ironically enough given that the season is about the end of things, eh? There's the promise of the things I'm going to learn and the people I may meet and the challenges that lay ahead.

Unfortunately, because I'm into being in school but I'm at a community college with a lot of young kids who really don't appreciate the opportunity they have in front of them, I wind up feeling isolated a bit of the time. Sometimes I meet a buddy to bond with during class. Sometimes I don't. For example, the Philosophy class I was ostracized because I did consistently get good grades and the class found out about it. The teacher didn't normally announce anyone's grades, but after one test when the class was groaning about how hard it was he said that he even had 2 people get 100's. And wasn't I one of them, Heather? My face was red. He felt bad because everyone looked like they were going to lynch me in the parking lot, and really -- it was never the same after that. (I learned my lesson for all of my classes after that. If I was doing well, I kept it to myself. If I was doing poorly and so was everyone else, I shared. After all this time, really I just want to fit in.)

I really wish that I could make the young kids in the classes understand how lucky they are to be going to school now when they have time and no other obligations, really. It's amazing how lucky they are and how little they appreciate it. I know that it wouldn't matter if I said to them to take advantage of their youth, because truer words were never spoken than, "youth is wasted on the young."

Except for you, Gimpy Cousin -- you're doing well not wasting your youth too much!

Because I'm not young, I'm going to bed!

I'm posting just to post.

I like to do that sometimes.

Sometimes.

I don't blog for me much anymore. And I'm not blogging for YOU because I'm not sure I know who you are.

I mean, I could talk about my PMS and stuff, but do you really want to know about all of that?

I could talk about how I really feel, but I'm not even sure you want to know about that. (But this could be because of the PMS.)

I just think that there's this correctness that is S L O W L Y creeping into my life. Trying to be correct about how I talk and behave. At least, in front of the world.

Well, no. That's not right either. It's the work world. It's that damned committee again, actually. Someone that was in my group was explaining their particular issues with our company and what they think we should do to fix it. I just had a hard time keeping a straight face. Does the girl not realize that we work for the man? Because I think that if you are upset because the man is concerned about his numbers and his bottom line, then you are really not getting that you work for the man. If you don't like it, you can go work for some other man. But as long as you have a job in corporate America. No, as long as you have a job, you are always going to be working for the man.

It's just different numbers with different versions of the man. But, ultimately, the man cares about his numbers. Because that affects the man that The Man cares about -- Benjamin!

What do you say to someone who just doesn't get this? What is the correct way to address the fact that someone doesn't realize they work for the man?

Why don't YOU tell me?

Threat response?

Tonight, I was listening to Loveline on the radio (the radio show with Adam Corolla -sp?- and Dr. Drew) and there was a fascinating study reported. Forgive my fuzzy reporting, I came in in the middle of the fascinating study. But apparently there was a test done where a bunch of men were shown erotic pictures of men and women were shown erotic pictures of women -- and in 100% of the males (who were all heterosexual) there was a visceral response to the part of the brain that goes off if there is a threat.

That is fascinating. 100% of men who are in a study have a response of feeling threatened if they see erotic images of men.

The Loveline response is that frankly it's a miracle that there aren't more gay bashings in the world. Not that they're saying it's okay. They were just making this point that all men have this response of feeling threatened by other men.

This response generates in the medbadablalulum or something in the brain. The indication is that this response doesn't go off in homosexual men. (Maybe they haven't tested them yet? I'm saying I didn't hear the whole thing, okay?!) SO, the next step is, of course, to figure out why.

And this is how I think we can maybe get those Republicans behind stem cell research... The only thing they hate more than advancing scientific research is gay men! If the cause of the scientific research is figuring out what makes the gay men, perhaps that is a cause they can get behind.

Well, not behind another man because they might see that and get threatened...

Inside Heather's Hair

This is one of my favorite people, Diane. Went up to visit her in DC for a QUICK visit on Tuesday night. She was only on the coast briefly visiting from South Dakota -- and you know how hard it is to get people to visit from THAT state!! ;-)

It so happened at the end of our visit, she finally asked me in all due seriousness how people can live here and not have big hair all of the time because of the humidity. I really wish we could have had more time to talk because that was ONE recipe I was able to share! I think that this is the reason, though, why so many Southern women have big hair: they have simply given up and decided to stop fighting the humidity.

But, here's the thing. It's a complicated formula. Only someone as addicted to my own hair as me can share it. And since even Lori hasn't been that addicted to my hair after the Feria Incident, I am going to share it with my reading sect of America. (All 4 of you!)

The truth is that in order to not have big hair, I have had to succumb to built up hair. Because it's the build-up that fights the humidity effects. This formula consists mostly of moisturizing shampoo mixed with a day or two of a "clean" hair product. The problem is that you can really only have build-up hair for a good two days, then it gets too icky and unworkable. So, then you have to strip off the build up and give in to the humidity a bit. I will usually go to a "stripper" for that -- usually the Pantene clear stuff. This along with just a light conditioner gives me drier hair. Usually I'll do wavy hair on these days and use mousse. No shine products. This look is what Scott usually refers to as my "homeless look." It winds up in a pony tail half way through the day and almost only happens on weekends. The dryness leads us back to a moisturizing phase and there you go -- how to fight the humidity/hair war and win!

Wow, I'm so deep in my shallowness now that my fingers would have gotten pruney -- if it weren't so shallow that is.

***********update on missing person****************

For Catt or anyone else interested -- I "found" Julia. I tracked down an email address and she responded this morning.

Heather Lee -- Super Sleuth!

Hee hee

*****************end of update****************************

Missing Person

I've lost my friend Julia Renalds.

Have you heard from her? Know how to reach her? Are you her?

Julia and I haven't kept in very good touch since she left the States to tour the world with the military, but I was used to the sporadic contact.

Usually, I would initiate our getting back in touch with a quick "Are you dead?" email that would force her to respond. I sent one out -- but it was rejected by her email account. I looked up her phone number on line, and I've been calling but never any answer. Maybe it's an internet only line. I even tried to email the last email address I had for her mom -- but it's no good.

Julia is gone.

I feel bad for using her full name on the blog, but I'm really desperate. I would like to hear from my friend. I know we don't keep in close contact, but I think of her a lot and want to know how she is doing.

Juuuuuulia!

If you ever check in, please send me an email and let me know where you are and how to reach you...

committed

No, this is not yet another loving being in a relationship post. This is a work thing.

One day our brainless heroine, whom we will call ME, asks her boss about all the special projects that people seem to be working on in my office. I asked how people get chosen for these projects and how could I let it be known that I was interested?

That VERY afternoon a "special project" popped up. My boss asked if I would be interested and I indicated that I was. I felt kind of cornered since I had just brought it up that afternoon, but I liked the director who was heading the project so I figured what the heck.

What the heck indeed.

Let me try to explain this thing. Basically, where I work there are a LOT of whining, bitching, moaning, complaining people who can't just fix people's mistakes and move on with their lives -- they have to raise a big stink about the fact that they have to "clean up their messes." My team is assigned to figure out exactly what these messes are and what can be done to prevent the messes from happening in the first place.

The real answer is: stop hiring human beings, for Christ's sake! It's really easy!

But, that wasn't simple enough. So we've gathered data and now our little committee has grown to include a representative from each of the 30 units in my department. We have mascots and power points and no real idea WHAT the fuck we're doing.

I hate it.

And I'm stuck on it for the rest of the year "cascading" information down to the folks below me. Trying to figure out what the heck is going on.

Trying to care that the human beings that we work with screw up everything for everyone!

Two Stories about Friday

First

Friday morning, I was at my usual pace for work (just barely on time) when our repair guys showed up to install our new over-the-stove microwave. At this exact moment, my neighbor comes knocking on my door and tells me that I should get my tire filled before I go to work because it's pretty low. The repair guys happen to have an air compressor with them and they refill the tire but point out that it has a nail in it (!) and that I should get it patched asap.

I was going to wait until after work but got a little paranoid and decided to stop and take care of it since I was already running late.

Turns out, I was really glad I did. Because I met this way cool woman who shared many of her life experiences with me. I only caught her name because one of the guys at the shop addressed her as such. But she was awesome. I learned that she had been married for 40 years before her husband had passed away in 2001. She had had 3 kids of her own, but in her own family she was number 10 out of 11. (11!)

This was my favorite story. She had moved to Hampton and the kids were first starting the school there. Her youngest son was not very happy at school and though she kept telling him it would get better, he kept insisting that it would NOT. On the fourth day in the new school, he says that the teacher has been giving him a very hard time and seems to have singled him out.

Her reaction is the same as any over-protective mother. My baby? Being picked on by the teacher? No one is going to treat MY baby this way! I will go up and have word with her first thing tomorrow and get this straight.

The boy's face lights up -- he sees his salvation.

Mom says that there was one more thing. The thing is, she says, that this is the fourth day of school. The teacher must see 130 students a day. Why is it in this short a period of time does she know her son SO well to have singled him out for her attention?

The boy's face falls. Never mind, Mama, I'll take care of it. I'm sure it will be okay.

This was my favorite story. But, really the woman was just so wonderful. So full of life and experience and I could have stayed and pulled from that all day.

And it made me appreciate this aspect of my personality -- of talking to random people in gas stations and hearing their portion of the human experience. Because we're all going through this in our own ways and it's just such a fascinating journey.

Second

Later that night, Scott and I were out with a group of people in a bar. The waitress was inattentive from the beginning. She wouldn't come and get orders. She would get partial orders and then make us wait to complete them. One could argue that it was Friday night and it was busy, but several of our party saw her up at the bar flirting and playing with the bartender. Not TOO busy for that.

This was a large part of the conversational topic that evening.

We cut our time at the bar short, largely because the service was so bad. When we finally got our check, the gratuitity was included because our party was so large. Therefore, we had no way to show our displeasure with the service.

Well, unless we're Scott. He wrote on the check, "This was the worst service ever."

He paid the bill and we started to walk out. The waitress approached us and asked what he meant by that?? He explained the aspects of our service that were bad and she basically stalked off.

We stood outside for a few minutes gathering our group and determining our plan. A few of our party come out to tell us that the waitress was in tears. One said that her comment was, "I didn't think the service was that bad."

That bad? Doesn't that imply that you knew it was not that good?

Here is where I split down the middle. The service was bad, but I'm not much of one for conflict AND I really hate to be the reason anyone cries. Even if they "deserved" it for ignoring us so totally. (Don't assume things -- Scott was not the only person who voiced this exact sentiment.)

The Unicorn will ask for new servers. Some people will ask for a manager. Some people will just lay down and take it. The Librarian and I had an interesting discussion about this one time when I short-tipped someone because I was displeased with the service... Her take was that the servers make MUCH less than minimum wage and their tips are all they have to survive on. My take was that if you are living on your tips, then you should probably earn them. If I don't do good at my job, my boss hears about it and it could potentially affect my continued employment. Why should I expect any less of the service I receive in the public??

But, really it all goes back to the human experience. Our visit to that bar on that night made a negative impact on that woman's life. Will it stick wither her? Will she learn to be more attentive? Will we react differently if we are in a situation with bad service?

Who knows? It was all part of the human experience on one Friday night.

heard on the radio this morning

"This report was sponsored by Heritage for the Blind. Don't sell that old car, donate it to Heritage for the Blind..."

I'm sorry, but what are blind people going to do with my car? I'm a little disturbed by that.

Should I donate my old stereo to the deaf foundation??

Adding pictures to your blog was never easier! Thanks Blogger!

Yes, these are our children with the "children" I had when I was a child. Try saying that three times fast.

It's scary that I know that some of you will actually try to say that three times fast...

as the blog turns

I will now begin a typical Heather blog in the typical fashion...

There really is not much going on. But, it has been mentioned to me that my blog has been a bit light of late.

I was mocked for being happily married and thus not having an blog fodder.

Well, that's ridiculous.

Technically, there is blog fodder but I don't always want to blog about it.

And I haven't had any funny events lately.

I need some funny events, damn it.

I mean, I've had fun. But I was really fucked up and don't remember much of what happened. (That was for you, K & H.)

Best thing to happen lately was that I spent this past weekend with my girls. HP2 and the Librarian. GOOD times, lots of drinking and venting and drinking. And venting. If I hadn't been so hungover, I would have felt GREAT all weekend!

I have started working out again. In fact, I'm sitting here blogging while I procrastinate going to the gym. But, I will actually go. And that is a BIG change in my life. Before I procrastinated going to the gym to the point that I would just not go. Now I am going a little bit. I don't want to spend my life in the gym, but I don't want to keep beating myself up about being fat anymore either. (Especially since you burn 0 calories beating yourself up. How fair is that?)

I read the new Harry Potter book. I cut work to read the book all day last Monday because Scott got his grubby hands on it first and I was left with sloppy seconds. I think it's my favorite. So sad what happens, but just soooooo good! Far better than Harry grumpy and pissy like he was in book 5.

I go back to school on August 18th and I am really looking forward to that. Get back into the habit of thinking again -- now THAT is a challenge!

Okay -- I really do have to go to they gym. To anyone reading, thanks for continuing to stop by my blog even though it's so rarely updated.

This is what happens to your material when you eliminate drama from your life other than Felicity, eh?

xoxo

HPL

PS: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CUZZIN SUMITRA!

ONE

Well, looks like we made it. Yesterday was our one year anniversary.

24 more to go and then it's time to move on! :-)

We didn't do anything incredibly sexy or romantic or even all that exciting, but we did spend the day together and talked a lot -- which is the greatest gift I can ever get anyway.

The thing is that Scott and I went through a LOT in our first year of marriage.

Before we even got married, we had the fun-filled ordeal with the Mominator. Scott's mom cancelled the rehearsal dinner, stirred up bunches of drama and caused a mutual severing of ties. I became Public Enemy #1 for causing a woman to "lose" her son. The facts of the case were not important, it was all my fault.

We hadn't even been married for a month when his cat Jasper died. Jasper was honestly his best friend, his buddy, his compadre. Jasper is the only cat who willingly, eagerly came when called and didn't try to make it look like an accident. Jasper loved his Daddy and openly showed affection for every little thing that Scott did for him -- and the feeling was mutual. It was heartbreaking to go through that loss with him, and I honestly would have done anything to have kept that from happening.

Then there was the great move in. This was pretty horrific and undocumented. I hadn't lived with a man that wasn't my dad in 6 years. He'd been living on his own for well over a year. We didn't mesh terribly well and getting cozied into my 1100 square foot townhouse was somewhat of a nightmare. Still, it forced us to really work on our communication skills and, in the long run, made our marriage much stronger. He learned that I'm high maintenance but sort of pretend not to be. And I learned that "whatever makes you happy" roughly translates to "whatever will make you stop bitching at me."

There is still a toilet seat problem that I gave up on.

In December, still not even at a six month mark for our marriage, my dad died. There is no way for me to ever be able to sum up how grateful I am to Scott for getting us through that time. He was my rock and he helped hold me up and then rocked me to sleep at night when I was crying. And still helped keep my whole family's sense of humor up a little. Prime example: Scott went along when we went to the funeral home to make the arrangements. The funeral director was very nice and compassionate, as they are prone to be, and was pretty matter-of-fact in how much the service was going to cost. Scott just flat out asked him if there was anything he could do to lower the price of the services, and the guy came down in price. Later on, Scott admitted to feeling bad because he didn't want anyone to think he was trying to cheapen Dad's memory, and then added, "But baby, you know I don't pay retail for anything."

You have no idea how often I think of that phrase.

2005 has been the year of career shifting. Scott is in his 3rd job for the year. Filing our taxes next year should be mighty interesting.

We've helped my mom move and inadvertently run a low-frills, er, couch and breakfast for my gimpy cousin. We've had a new cat arrival. We've seen friends come and go.

I just did the math and figured that there are 8760 hours in one year. Really, it doesn't seem like that much when you compare it to a lifetime -- which is how much time I hope we have together...

Mrs. Big Daddy :-)

Random Pre-Coffee Thought

I can't help but wonder if it is the internet that really spoils the real customer service experience. You go to a store and no one is there to help you. When you find someone to help you, they don't know the answers to what feels like even the most basic questions. They seem to be lying to you about the very product you are about to buy.

Then there's the internet. You don't really need anyone to help you when you're shopping on line because it's all right there at your fingertips. No one has to show you where something is -- it's right there. If there are no answers to your questions, you just go out on the web and surf for the answers. Want the truth about the product you're buying? Here are 50 reviews hyperlinked under it's name. Or just see what Google has to tell you. You can even Ask Jeeves.

In real life, you have to actually deal with people and all of their underpaid short-comings. They don't want to be where they are answering your stupid questions. Even if they were being paid more, they would still think your questions are stupid and not really want to help you. Sure, you come across a random person from time to time who gives you amazing customer service, but is it really going to equal what you're getting at Amazon.com?

I understand why it's hard to go out into the real world and be treated like an idiot by some 17 year old that you are about to hand over your personal needs to and try to get them to care. But we've got to keep the need for the people out there going, don't we? Underpaid and less than helpful, it's still someone else to interact with.

messy, outgoing, open, self revealing, ambivalent about chaos, unpredictable, not good at saving money, social, likes large parties, likes to stand out, risk taker, quick to make friends, does not like to be alone, rash, fame seeking, sarcastic, craves attention, social chameleon, low self control, food lover, not rule conscious, weird, assertive, not a perfectionist, anti-authority, thrill seeker, vain, likes to fit in, reckless, emotionally sensitive, leisurely, trusting

I took one of those internet personality tests that Goth Girl is always posting on her blogs and that's what it said about me.

You wanna take it? Personality test by Similarminds.com

TRUE CONFESSIONS

Here's the thing. I am sure that I have mentioned in the past that I have a competitive nature. I'm not sure how much I would have talked about this, since I am, frankly, ashamed of it. But, it's there. The shameful part is just how deep it goes.

For one, at work I have a thing when we have a potluck. I have this super easy Mexican dip that I make that there is slight variation in... You know, the thing they accused Martha Stewart of... Doctoring her printed recipes just a tad so that they can't come exactly how she makes them. The competitive part is how many requests I get to make it, or get asked what the ingredients are, or worse yet how much of it is eaten. I try to mix it up and bring other things, to humble myself by showing no one cares what I bring. But then, they don't eat the "other" thing and I'm back in the race again.

But, my true confession is about my competitive dating. Now that I am married, not much to compete over. No one's putting up a fight -- we each bought in. He says that I invent things to complain about, but that's not exactly true. I'm complaining because I am in the zone. The Fight Zone. I need to win -- we need to be The Best Couple. We need to be The Couple Everyone Wants to Hang Out With. (The last title is too long, I've got to tweak that.) We have to be funniest and most entertaining and most stories and best hair and best clothes and best all-around.

It' s a lot of pressure. And the problem is that I have low self-esteem and so I put a lot of pressure on Scott to be "the interesting one" in our group. I need him to be the stronger link. Again, it's a lot of pressure. And I wonder if I am the only one who feels like this?

Have you ever hung out with another couple and while you were driving home, compared their relationship to yours? Or just talked abouot some of the "odd things" you saw in the other couple? Did you ever wonder if they were doing the same thing to you? Did you ever wonder if their fighting was just for show? Or did you think it sure seems like they never fight? Are they this happy all the time? Why DON'T they get a room??

Do you believe that I am the person you can talk to about these things when no one else talks about them? Don't you think that everyone wishes that they could talk about these things, but doesn't realize that other people agree?

Or is all of this really just me??

And if you are in a competition that other couples don't even know that they are in, does that mean you win??

Heather Time

There was a catch-phrase that really caught on around the time that my father passed away. That phrase was (insert your name) Time. It started with Scott, who was a bit overwhelmed by all of the family presence and then got an infection to boot. He said that he needed some "Scott Time," and it would be understood that he just needed to get away from the madness for a minute. Gradually the phrase was used for just about anyone, particularly my aunt's introverted husband who needed to have some Bob Time.

I've been thinking about this lately because I've really been wanting some Heather Time. My husband hasn't been working the last couple of weeks (we'll call that a voluntary temporary hiatus, scheduled to end on July 5), and so we have been spending more than an average amount of time together. This is not incredibly unusual, really, as his job usually has him home before I get home. But, before there had been pockets of time for Heather Time. There hasn't been much lately.

But, tonight he is out with the boys. Sweet Georgia Brown!

Don't misinterpret that I don't like spending time with my husband. I do and generally I prefer large quantities. More is better!

But. When I have Heather Time, I can watch all of the Felicity and Gilmore Girls and whatever other estrogen tv may suit me. I can talk on the phone without having to leave the comfort of my couch because my loud talking interferes with the tv. (Not disputing that this is true, though.) I can drink wine for dinner. Our cats will remember that I live here too and come and talk to me. I can wear pore reducing masks around the house and not have to worry about being green-faced and weirder than usual.

But, best of all, having Heather Time allows me to miss having Scott around. Makes me appreciate him more. Makes me less grouchy. Which is a much-needed development in my personality, I can assure you.

It's important to get your (Insert Your Name Here) Time. It makes you appreciate your The Rest of the Damned World Time. :^)

Melting Pot

So much stirring around in my head tonight that it's tempting to just spew out a bunch of stream of conscious stuff. Not that this isn't what I do already, but I at least try to make it make a little sense to those outside of my head.

Rhetorically speaking (don't write, this is not about you) -- what does one do when one feels like one can no longer rely on one's friends and wants to strike out fresh? Do you stop returning their calls? Gradually stop doing things with them until they get the point? What is the answer? It sounds cliched, but I really do have a friend in this situation. Ready to get out of past friendships, no matter what the cost, and move on. I see this and it's alarming to me. I don't want my friend to be alone and deny these friends. But my friend feels let down by these friends and refuses to just talk to them about it. Would rather just let them go then open those lines. It's hard to watch. I can't talk to my friend about it much -- just hope that we stay friends...

What to do when an old love pops back into your life unexpectedly?? Another friend going through this and called me to "fuss." I really don't have the answer to this, but because it's so easy for me. My past loves are very much my past. If I saw them again, I have no doubt it might be odd but only for the moment. I just love Scott too much, those other people are nothing in comparison. But, she doesn't know how to make the feeling go away. The butterflies are fluttering and it was totally unexpected. I, for once, had no advice. What do you say? I think she feels what she feels because it was unresolved and she's always going to wonder. That's why closure is so important -- it keeps you from passing out in the meat department when you run into your old love 10 years after it's all over.

I've still been friend-dating but it's hard when my friend loves her husband as much as I love mine -- no one wants to venture out solo. But, Jesus -- how the fuck do you ever get to complain about them if you can't get away??

My anniversary is looming and it blows my mind. I cannot believe that we have been married one year and yet, it seems so long already because we have been through so much already...

Father's Day this weekend. I miss my dad a lot. Much more than I ever thought I would. I feel for all of the women that are actually quite close to their dads and have a "regular" relationship with them. Dad and I never had that -- in fact, we were only starting to get close to something approaching one when his health problems started kicking in -- and yet I miss him every day. You just never think you're going to lose one of your parents (how careless, to lose him) when you're in your 30's. After all, my parents were at least in their 50's before their parents started dying. It just doesn't seem right. I should be better prepared.

It's easy to martyr Dad now that he's gone, but I know that he was no saint. In fact, I spent most of my life in opposition to him. We just couldn't see eye to eye. Even towards the end, the last fight we had was about Fox News. He really believed it was fair and unbiased. But, I knew that he loved me even though he couldn't say it and it was nice having that to fall back on.

Happy Father's Day, Bobby Chuck, wherever you are...

2nd post

I get a little vain sometimes about my writing. It's one of the reasons I have always kept some form of journal. Actually, my blog is pretty journally, just a lot more censored. (Can you imagine that this shit is being censored? Not for cuss words, obviously.)

It's just so interesting to me to go back and read things that I wrote a couple of years ago. Sometimes I have a way of voicing how I feel about things that doesn't even seem to come out of me. I certainly don't usually talk the way I write. It feels good to be able to turn a phrase that absolutely captures the meat of what I want to say...

Like this from August of 2003: So, I'm disturbed. I've built an empire on my own voice and my feelings about it and now I'm realizing that this may be a large reason why I'm drifting away from friends and having a hard time developing new friendships. My utter attachment to me and my belief that everything I have to say is completely fascinating. Because, you know what? It's not.

It's kind of sad that I still feel that way. Still can't seem to overcome my own obnoxiousness to get over myself. It's not that I don't like me, it's just that I need to be a little less interested in me and a lot more engaged in other people.

Reminds me of one of my favorite drunken "spats" (if you can even call it that) with the Librarian. We were at a party and there were only a handful of people there that we knew. The group we came with was ready to roll but the Librarian was DEEPLY involved in a conversation with someone at this party and was pretty torqued off that we wanted to just leave. Because Heather, she said to me, she is another human being. She has thoughts and ideas and it's wrong to just walk aways like that doesn't matter.

Dude, it was a party. It was time to party on -- was basically my response.

Anyways, need to get more involved with those human beings and their thoughts and ideas.

What do you think?

Aw shit, I've gone and not posted anything forever again.

Sorry.

Hello? (taps the mic) Hello??

I'm sorry, really.

I've had mental jank going on -- I've been a bit at odds.

I'm getting back together though.

Please come back!

Did you see The Breakfast Club reunion on the MTV Movie awards? I'm afraid it was a bit lamer than I had hoped for, but still nice to recall. The movie's going to lose it's edge though if TBS doesn't stop showing it into ubiquity -- can we get a year off?

Anyways, I'm not gone. I'm around.

I'll post something for you soon. How can I neglect you, you sexy bitches?? ;-)

Penis Envy

Yes, I am using the P-word in bold letters on the subject line. We are ALL adults here, get over it.

Why do I have penis envy? Because of my husband.

Tonight is his Friday night, since he is off work tomorrow, so he is playing with the boys tonight. And by playing, I mean literally -- they will be playing games.

I am QUITE envious of this. I do not have friends that I can get together and play games with. This is a foreign concept to me, but one I would love to be a part of. When they hang out, they will play Trivial Pursuit or Scrabble or golf... Mind you, all of these games are HIGHLY techno-ed up and on a computer that is then connected to a VERY large television, but still.... It's playing.

I wanna play games. Women play games when we get together, but it's more emotional -- not actual feeling like a kid again fun.

I don't feel left out because I am not there, because I could have gone. I feel left out because I don't have people that I can just hang out and do stupid things with that aren't analyzing the world's problems.

Let the world handle it's own problems for a minute and let's play Clue for Christ's sake!

That is all that I am saying.

Humor-sucking risk management PMS infested day

Over the last few days, I feel like my lifeforce -- my joie de vivre if you will -- has been sucked out of me. Maybe it's my lacking in excitement call center insurance job. Maybe it's this crappy, cloudy fall weather in the middle of SPRING. Maybe it's my disaster-strewn house on the verge of being condemned for its messiness. Maybe it really is just PMS. But, I can't help but feel like I used to be fun. I used to be funnier.

I'm pretty sure it's PMS.

The wonderful thing about PMS is that you really can't believe that you are ever going to feel happy or joyous ever again. It's just this chronic state of crankiness that doesn't seem to dissipate and is made ALL the better by my beloved husband who insists that I am only not cranky about 5 days a month anyways.

Thanks for the memories, dear. Did you know that in some courts juries have found PMS to be a legitimate reason for manslaughter?

It's something to think about, isn't it?

No, I'm not going to kill my husband, but would it kill him just to throw a Hershey bar and a "you look pretty today" into my corner when I'm acting like a beast?

I mean, I'm just saying.

I'll tell you one thing that got me to perk up a notch. (Mind you, at the state I'm in a notch is only going to take me to only Defcon 3 of the Blues, not actually cure it altogether.) Tom Cruise on Oprah. Just watched that with my friend Tivo.

Tonight, I was talking about it over dinner and Scott and Evil were both convinced that he is gay. I was starting to agree. But now, I don't know. I really think that as crazy as it sounds, he really loves that girl Katie Holmes and she really loves him. They just seem to be having a really good time, and my boy Tom was off the chain with the grinning. Not that he is depressed much, but it was crazy. He was jumping on the couch and professing his love for the whole darned Oprah audience to hear.

And NO ONE said shit about the age difference. Which I was surprised by and then impressed with. Maybe it doesn't really matter.

So, this did perk me up a bit. Seeing Tom and Katie and how happy and in love they were. I like that. It's nice. And they seem like they're just real sweethearts too. I mean, look at her -- she's a doll. I'm a little star-dusted by her. Who can blame the man?

But, back to me. And my wallowing. I need some shiny happy people to be goofy and pick me up out of this mood.

Maybe I'll listen to disco on the way to work tomorrow. That's a pretty good cure for most things.

Off to try to speed read my depressing book before bedtime. (Hmm, this is the second sad book I have read in a row. Must make note to read chick lit STAT! before picking up the next kind of sad/intense book from my nightstand.)

53 more days til Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince