SURPRISE!!

I'm finally blogging! Sheesh!

So, the deal is that I was plotting and planning a surprise party for Scott's 40th birthday (October 6). I do not think he reads my blog anymore, but I was not taking any chances.

Let me tell you, it is beyond difficult to throw a surprise party for the person that is in your house with you all the time that is your best friend. I mean, normally if I were going to throw a party, then whenever something happened I would be able to complain to Scott or ask for help or guidance.

I could find out who he would want to invite, for example.

That was just one of the dramatic moments.

Then add to that that his dad also agreed to come for a surprise visit as part of the whole surprise and it just got to be a LOT of secrets for big mouth Heather.

I planned the party with my neighbor Karen, who for all of her flaws, really does believe in going all out and really helped me a lot. The problem is that she is a bit of a control freak planner -- picture my mom only much, much drunker -- and was wanting me to have things done, ready, planned, and on lists. Not exactly my thing. She was really stressing me out. Then Scott and I are pretty cash strapped most of the time, so throwing a party wasn't exactly the cheapest thing to do on our budget. Then Scott's dad had some medical issues that he involved me in as they pertained to whether or not he would be able to come and visit and I had to keep that from Scott for a few days and THAT caused some problems...

It was just more drama than I expected it would be, frankly. I mean, I would be lying if I said that I don't like a little drama now and then -- if for no other reason than to remind me that I really don't miss it being a regular feature in my life. But, between the surprise cancellations and the sneaking stuff in and the stories that I had to come up with!

I mean, I never knew this man was so gullible.

The deal is that I told him I was going for a girl's night on the Friday before his birthday, but in the mean time I had been pressuring and badgering him to make sure that he was off work the Monday - Wednesday of his birthday week. He starts making plans to go play foosball with a buddy of his that Friday night, but then he gets a call from his aunt Janice. She is going to be in town briefly on Friday night and can they hang out? (She lives in the Outer Banks and told him that she had to catch a plane out of Norfolk.) Of course, he says but Heather won't be joining us because she made other plans. She's supposed to be here about 5:30 and stay until about 7:30, and he thinks I'm not coming home because I'm going out straight from work. Meanwhile, I got off at 11 and I'm running around like a crazy person buying the last minute stuff -- liquor, deli trays and Superman colored paper plates -- and hanging up pictures of Scott throughout his life at our neighbor's house as decorations. (Oh yeah, they agreed to host the shindig, I forgot!) Karen's got me worked into a state that Scott is going to come home early from work and when I go home to get ready I nearly have a heart attack every time I hear a car.

Karen's husband Steve takes me to the airport at 5 to pick up Scott's dad and then the calls start coming in. I can't come, I can come but I'll be late, etc. We get Pops snuck back to the neighbor's house and we're getting close to the magic time -- 7:10. This is when Karen is supposed to call Scott and ask him to come over and sample her chili -- the ruse for getting him to the house. But, we're down a couple people who swear they are moments away. I call Janice and she pretends its Orbitz letting her know her flight is running late -- Scott buys the whole thing! At 7:45 Karen makes the call. "Hey Scott, I've been working on this chili all day and I keep adding stuff but I'm not sure if it's right. Can you come over and taste it for me?" Sure, and Janice is coming too. When they walked in, we yelled surprise at Scott and got the above shot. Then Pops came up behind him and said "I heard they were throwing a party for my son's 40th birthday" and then we all lost it.

Very emotional.

It was just awesome and definitely worth the drama. It took me a little while to get over the things that went wrong but Scott finally got it into perspective for me. He said -- you're thinking about what didn't happen, but I can only think about what DID happen.

See, that's the kind of thing that best friends tell you to help you get back together. :)

Happy Belated Birthday to my best friend, even if you don't ever read this blog...

(I know this is a jumbled mess, but better messy than never and maybe I can go back to just blogging again...)

I just wanted to let you know...

I'll be back in a little while. I had to step out because I have something going on that I can't talk about yet, just in case. But, I really promise to try to catch you up on the whole sordid mess when it's done.

Here's what I can tell you.

If you had this noise in your head all of the time, you would cut it off. I'm not kidding. Sometimes I want to hold my head up next to people to see if they can hear it, but of course they can't. It's not like my head is a conch shell.

It's the noise equivalent of a pink elephant in the room -- the more you try not to think about it, the more you do. It's hard not to. It is what it is, and I have to accept it. But, it's all I want to talk about it because it's the only thing I know.

And the thing is... I KNOW it could be worse. The other day I see a guy from my class at my neurologist's office. I admit to him in class that I saw him there after he said that he missed the last class because of chronic back pain. He was saying that he had this issue with the disks in his back and it was either surgery to re-install pins or some other "non-invasive" thing where they somehow graft hip bone stuff onto your spine. Umm, ouch!

He asked what I was there for and I told him my sad tumor story, gamma knife, blah blah, insert hulk joke here. And he said, "You know, you always think you have it bad and then you hear someone else's story."

And I said, "You know, I felt the same way when I heard about you."

So, you really never know. Here's hoping you don't have a story that makes me feel better about mine. ;)

I can't believe I have to blog about this again!

So, I'm trolling through my blogs, checking in. Doesn't take long, most of my regular reads post about as often as I do. (ahem) And in one of them, our heroine is trying to work up the nerve to ask a guy out. It's a particularly harrowing experience for her because she is on a major weight loss journey. Several commenters log on to cheer her on and one of them said to be sure to read The Rules .

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

I mean, the GD RULES?!

I tried to read this crap back in 2002 and probably blogged about it then. (No, I ran a search and hit nothing.)

Anyways, the point is that in 200-freaking-8 are we STILL talking about The GD Rules?!?!

This really makes my blood boil, as evidenced by all the exclamation marks. I confes I haven't read it completely because I can't. It just makes me physically sick.

It's just horrifying that there are still women who swear by this book. That's crap. Pretending not to care and not to be available. It's just games and bullshit. You have to be kidding me? This is how you have to get a man, by not being "too available" -- whatever the fuck that means.

I mean, hello -- you wouldn't be going on dates if you weren't available. You would be in a relationship. I'm not saying show up to your first date in a wedding dress or compare the names of your future unborn children after the first time you have sex, but seriously. How can there still be women who exist who still want to play this game?

Because once you reel him in with this game, then what you have won as a prize is a man who liked to play games? And ladies, we're not talking about Tiddly Winks here. It's the kind of game that never, ever ends. Because once you stop playing, well -- what have you got? A confused man who doesn't recognize you because you've been hiding behind some facade of mantrapment for the last however long.

Blech -- I just friggin' hate The Rules. Even more than the Republican National Convention. THAT should tell you something.

Just watched The Notebook again. It always, always makes me cry. Even when I know that it's coming and she's going to remember -- I cry anyway.

This also happens during Sense and Sensibility when she thinks he is married and then realizes he's not and she completely loses it. I lose it right along with her.

Do you think that there is a crying trigger? Like are some movies like onions and just make you cry out of instinct?

I suppose this is more of a Waxing Whistical kind of post, but I can't completely neglect my original blog, can I??

Up & Down

So, I was feeling a bit down. First off, if you are one of the three people who have not heard this story -- I messed up my shoulder. Wednesday night, I was getting out of bed in the middle of the night to go potty and Charlie was laying on the side of the bed. I guess I wanted to make sure I cleared him and it was 2am and my balance isn't the stuff that legend is made of... And :::SCREAMING, CUSSING CRASHING, BANGING:::: OW, FUCK OW... I was on the floor in a weird heap by the bathroom door -- which is less than 2 feet from my side of the bed. I finally managed to get myself up only to have a horrible pain in my right arm. Go to the doctor in the morning and they guessed that I must have almost popped my shoulder and damaged the tendons around my shoulder blade. I have limited mobility and have figured out how to type by dragging my arm onto the desk Quasimodo style. (Quasimodo but very very hot!)

So, needless to say I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself. Though, honestly I'm really only in pain if I move it some way I'm not supposed to. It's mostly the inconvenience and the BAD HAIR that I am just hating now.

But a lot of that went away tonight. Because in my last PoliSci class, the professor showed a documentary called Darwin's Nightmare. It was horrifying. A graphic depiction of life in an African fishing village and all of the tangents that spin from that. From the prostitutes, to the children living in the street and sniffing boiled glue to deal with the horror of sleeping on the street and being raped, to the Reverend who said he can't pass out condoms to people in the village even though they are dying from AIDS because that would be saying it's okay to sin, to the Russian/Ukranian pilots who bring in ammunition that fuel the many wars going on in Africa, to the man who guards the factory for less than a $1 per night who would kill a burglar inside the fence with a poisoned arrow... It was a stunning portrayal of the kind of poverty that I will never, never know in my life.

Really put my life in perspective and I was so desperately needing that. I so frequently fall into these mememe traps and it's just... I hate that about myself. I mean, I have a meme blog, but I still never want to get so mired in the me that I lose perspective. I have some down spots in my life now, but I have options and the means to get them. It may be a pain in the arse to fix my troublespots, but the point is that they really AREN'T hopeless.

I'm grateful for the life I have. It's good to be reminded of that once in a while, don't you think?

I've been looking for this quote!!

Tomatoes and oregano make it Italian; wine and tarragon make it French. Sour cream makes it Russian; lemon and cinnamon make it Greek. Soy sauce makes it Chinese; garlic makes it good. -Alice May Brock, author (b. 1941)

I talk about it a lot because I am extremely devoted to garlic. And I should carry breath mints more often... ;)

See more Paris Hilton videos at Funny or Die

FINALLY a candidate I can relate to!

Strange, drunk question..?

Did you ever have twin friends? When you are an only child, this is a particularly strange breed of friendship to have.

I have an adult friend who is not only a twin, but she (and of course her twin) share my birthday. Strange enough.

But, from a very young age I had a set of twins that I was very close to because they lived next door. But, because they lived next door, we were pretty close for a pretty long time. At least until we were old enough to realize that we belonged to different social castes and then we sort of separated ways.

But, many thoughts linger in my mind. One, when you are friends with twins are you ever close to any one twin? Is there a difference in your relationships and how different is it? But, more pressing -- if it starts at a young age, does it ever go away??

My two closest twin friends lived next door from me from I can't remember when (we moved there when I was only one) til just after they were in 6th grade. It wasn't too far -- just townhouses on the outskirts of my neighborhood, just far enough to be inconvenient to a 6th grader. When we were all in high school at the same time, they said hi to me in the halls and vice versa, but it was clear that we ran with different people. It wasn't spoken, we didn't talk, but it was never awkward. It just was what it was for high school. I would get the random birthday ballooon which was weirder than anything.


Flash was forward. I move back to VB in 2000 and somehow these twins know. I get invited to a last minute bridal shower and wedding -- the events weren't last minute, just my invite.

The thing is... I loved these girls. Neither was ever a favorite for long. It was all just about history. And we had some young, young history. They maybe even knew my mother when she could hear, which they might not remember. But, it was even that they knew that this was a memory that shared a bond. And we walked with different people and spoke different languages, we had this shared fucked up Fairfield life in common...

Anyways... Lots of cheap, pink wine -- I say big hugs to Holly and Jenny and love you both through the weirdness and madness that has been our shared 30+ on the planet together. You'll always be a part of my heart even if we don't know each other's phone numbers, email addresses or new last names..

It is what it is.

La Douleur Exquise

I'm Netflixng my way through Sex and the City. I'm in the middle of Season 2 and this title is a reference to the last episode on disc 2. The exquisite pain. I think I'm going through a bit of that now.

I sometimes think I enjoy putting myself in situations that I feel sad about so I can get to feel sad. Sometimes feeling sad feels good. It's nice to get it out of your system, you know?

On a silly note, watching Carrie and Big break up again and again. It's a sweet pain. I know how it's going to turn out, yet I still feel her pain again and again. And even the simple of joy of seeing the beginning of Miranda and Steve's relationship.

But, worse, sadder... Much sadder... Randy Pausch died on Friday. If you haven't seen or heard anything about his last lecture, I urge you to read it. I have the book on my to-buy list.

Anyways, sad things. I'm blaming it on this depressing Environmental Policy class that is just constantly reaffirming that the world is eating itself and it's not going to get any better...

For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work. -Doug Larson


I think my other 8 hours have been spent on Facebook. Be my Facebook friend...

Things I don't understand

My health insurance plan
The continued popularity of Survivor -- and I am a Big Brother fan, so I should get it
Phony people
How George Bush sleeps at night
Did I like The Dark Knight because it was actually a good movie or because of the tragic aspect of Heath Ledger dying or because I actually just liked it?
How to have my picture taken and keep my eyes open and not look like I just got frightened
How to have a neat looking Facebook page
....why this is important to me?
My inability to resist eating carbs knowing that my pants won't fit tomorrow
Why I don't go to bed right now knowing that I will be tired and cranky and unfocused tomorrow
(We can summarize these things into -- why I don't learn from my little mistakes but triumph over the big ones)
How the US is going to get out of this big mess we've gotten ourselves into -- even I do not have this much optimism
The continued popularity and interest in Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, et al -- plenty of pretty young women get drunk and trash their lives on a regular basis, even here in Tidewater -- who cares if they're famous?
Quantum physics
How big the universe is
Why it even matters if there is a God
...and it does matter to me, even though it doesn't seem like to some people
How to get my husband to eat at least the vegetables that I will eat -- I mean, this is a short list
how to get motivated to want to lose weight AND keep it off
...or how to just not care
Why I buy clothes assuming that I am always going to like my body as much as I do the day I go shopping
how to end this rambling post

We're doing life baby!

Today's our anniversary. Four years, for those of you taking bets. I thought I would spend it blogging because that would be romantic.

We had Mexican for dinner in honor of our wedding food. Over dinner we re-visited our most recent discussion which is this.

Chickens and eggs.

It started innocently enough. We were reviewing things we needed to get from the store on our drive home from our visit to C'ville (pictures WILL be coming....) and I asked if we still had eggs and if they were any good. Scott stated that since they had not turned into chickens, he assumed they were still okay for eating. I laughed and assumed that he was kidding, because eggs you buy from the grocery store do not turn into chickens.

This is when the discussion became surreal.

Scott: They don't turn into chickens because they have been refrigerated.
Me: It wouldn't matter if they have been refrigerated, even if you left them on the counter they wouldn't turn into chickens because they haven't been fertilized.
Scott: So, you're saying that you don't think chickens come from eggs?
Me: Chickens come from eggs, but not the eggs at the store.
Scott: But, Heather, if the eggs from the store come from chickens, then how can they not be chicken eggs?
Me: (STILL not sure if I am being fucked with or not) They are chicken eggs, but they are not eggs that will be chickens. Again, have not been fertilized.
Scott: What do you think that white thing is? It's a chicken!
Me: So, what you are saying is that when we bring home the eggs from the store under the right light and conditions that we would have chickens?
Scott: Where else do you think that chickens come from??

Sigh.

And he thinks I am silly for thinking that pollen was combustible. Yet, he turns this into I don't think chickens come from eggs. JUST because I didn't think that cows ran, DOESN'T mean I don't know where chickens come from!

Anyways, we're doing life so we'll have time to figure it out.

hpl

The Heather & Julia Short Phone Call Rules
Feel free to adopt for your own purposes...

1. And this is key -- if you have only a set amount of time, inform your call-ee ahead of time that this is the amount of time you have left. This sets a time limit on your phone call in advance, so there is a reduced amount of tension when the phone call needs to end. For example, I am driving home from work (Patrick used to refer to this as my "book on tape" time), and this takes roughly 20 minutes. Julia frequently calls when she is waiting for the train. Sometimes I think she waits until she waits until she sees the train coming down the track, but I'm trying not to be bitter.... Which leads to the next rule.

2. Don't be bitter about the times your friend is calling for a short call. Short calls are better than no calls and really help fill your long-distance friends on the minutia of your life. You waste this short amount of time allotted if you complain about the amount of time that your friend has allotted. It leads to drifting friendships and longer phone calls to catch up and let's face it -- if we had time for long phone calls, we'd be using it for something else. (Long catch up calls are good for long car trips. Really the only benefit to taking long car trips by ones self is the long catch up.) So, focus on how good it is to hear from your friend.

3. So, now that we know it's a short call, because the time line has been laid out and we know that our friend loves us to take this five to twenty minutes of his/her life to call us, then we should try to focus on dividing the time equitably. Try not to let Heather dominate, as she is prone to do. The person with the most prattle rules and vignettes ALWAYS lead. (Like, I really have to tell you guys about the time that the guys stole the prescription drugs from my mom's house and then his dad drove him all the way back from Newport News to apologize -- CRAZY!) Anyone who has recently had houseguests, travelled or had a fight with their significant other also gets precedence.

4. And then finally, this is really key -- the call is naturally going to be short and it gets cut off, then really -- don't call back. ESPECIALLY if you're only going to have a few minutes left to talk when you call back. If we're just talking about general weekend stuff, my drive home from class, your laundry is done, whatever -- don't call back. It's okay. Exceptions to this rule are: if you are in the middle of an important discussion topic (like the fight you had with your significant other or something major medical or whatever), if you are having a disagreement, but the most important one is if the call ends with any form of OH MY GOD, I'M GOING TO... Get robbed, get hit by the train, give birth, whatever.

Well, maybe not give birth because that's pretty obvious, but you see where I'm going. Calls can drop -- more bars in more places doesn't mean your bars always match up.

Anyways, those are the rules. Subject to be adjusted at any time.

big hugs,

me

OH -- I'll try to put up the weekend in C'ville pix soon, promise.

I keep meaning to add this for Julia. I "recorded" the Italian Restaurant song for Emanuele on our way out of the concert. Yes, we were those people who leave early to avoid the horrible traffic. If you had seen the sea of people, you might have developed claustrophobia too.

Blogger Seeks New Local BFF...


A spot is opening up for the coveted role of Local BFF to the Queen Lee.

The applicant must love wine to excess, must smoke whenever drinking (even if it means bumming cigarettes off of strangers), must have a high tolerance for whining, must make inappropriate jokes when you are sad in a mad effort to cheer you up and bring you back to Earth, must have a love of shoes that rivals even Carrie Bradshaw, drink frilly drinks solely out of dedication to Sex and the City, must have the patience of Job and the humor of Janeane Garaofolo and Carole Burnett and Carole Kane and even Emma Thompson and Meryl Streep and who am I forgetting... To knowing who I am forgetting... This girl must have an endearing gap in her front teeth that she frequently exposes when we are roaring with laughter together. A mind-boggling ability to do crossword puzzles and be a Spades fiend and read big thick books in restaurants while dining alone (with a damned LIME, not a lemon in her glass of water thankyouverymuch)... The ability to be both alone and present all at one time... To always be at the press of one magic stiletto-shaped Wonder Woman speed dial button... #4... 4 because when you need information, it starts with 411. This applicant will see you cry and make you laugh and sometimes at the same time.

This petitioner is a needy girl but the applicant who is leaving the post is leaving some pretty big knee-high sexy boots to fill.

And, on a serious note, to thank you my former local BFF -- I have to let you go. I have to wish you well because that's the only way I can return to you the wonderful gift you have given me. The gift of the way that I have gotten to know myself only the way you see me. I love the me that I am when we are together and thank you so much for instilling a confidence in myself I never knew I had. You made me trust myself -- how can I ever repay you for that?



Oy, to end all the weep fest -- I now present you with the perfect picture that captures the essence of the applicant who has been my local BFF...

Shiny

As most people who have ever stayed over night in our house know, our cat Baby Girl (fka Josie) likes to hunt shiny things.

She finds the shiny thing and then "roars" over it to let all the other cats in the house kingdom know that she is a bad ass and not to be messed with. Or so Scott thought.

But over the last couple of years, this devotion to shiny things has turned into a devotion for black shiny shoes. Specifically MY black shiny shoes. Only black and only with some sheen. I believed that this was related to a separation anxiety over a litter she may have had and had to give up.

Then I realized that she is in fact turned into a shoe diva.

First, she started by capturing an old pair of water shoes that I purchased when I had a misguided notion I was going to take a water aerobics class. Then, she moved on to a pair of ballet like flats that are casual but dressy. Recently however she decided that she needed to present a more business like demeanor and started showing a preference for a pair of black loafer I have. (The buckles apparently still fulfilling the shiny requirement.) But, now she has gone too far. A few days ago, in the spot where she normally leaves her "babies", she had dropped off one of my Etienne Aigner shoes! I mean, I got them on sale and it's not Manola Blahnik but it's as close to designer I'm ever going to get.

The girl has gone diva and we are going to throw down! I appreciate your love for shiny girl but you better recognize!

Dear Julia,

I don't have Emanuele's email address or phone number, but tell him I said big time congrats for quitting smoking for 30 days! I can't imagine how hard that must have been, so congratulations!

It really is one day at a time and I've never been able to quit and stay quit. Just remember, if he falls off the wagon, it's a really hard thing and just try to be supportive of him. Remember how hard it was when you gave up sugar and soda and COFFEE?!

I don't know how to say big hugs in Italian, but in internet speak it's: {{{{{{{ }}}}}}}},

hpl

Just for Julia -- some pictures

be vewy quiet -- she's bwogging agwain...

Tomorrow I go back to work after a week's sabbatical. And because that in itself is not a daunting enough task, I decided that tomorrow would be a GREAT day to take the French CLEP that I have deluded myself into thinking that I can rock at.

I am clearly messed in the head.

My guidance counselor suggested that I give it a whirl but the only subject I am eligible in is French, because I don't have any lower language credit in that. That's because I was exempt because of my five freaking years of French in high school. Which would really be pretty useful to have in my background if that weren't 17 years ago.

Oy, I am OLD.

But, really, it's what Stephanie and I have been calling flooring it. Well, normally we say that when our eating is out of control, but in this case I am flooring it to take some control over my life, which frankly feels like it ricocheting out of control lately.

But enough about Thursday night.

We're throwing a cook-out party this Saturday. I'm really freaked out about it. We have had so many unsuccessful parties that I am super-intimidated to throw another one. Mostly because there aren't usually as many people as we expect and then I'm so stressed the whole time that I just either get really wasted or just float around the whole time trying to avoid small talk.

I really hate small talk. It is so not my thing. I really specialize in big talk. I'm 35 and I have a lot going on, I could give a shit what you do for a living or what you think about the weather. But, how you can still be a Republican after the last eight years or how you balance out the Obama v. Clinton struggle for power -- that I find intensely fascinating. And the time that you got lost on your vacation and that actually turned out to be the best part of the vacation. Or how long you've known your best friend and what keeps you together through all the ups and downs of life.

That, however, does not make good party fodder. Enough people ask you enough inane questions and I start to wonder -- is that all there is?

Yeah, I'm long past the old pajamarama days. Those were just fun, drunken good times. Too much drinking and smoking and too many of Scott's shots and just general silliness. I mean, who can't be goofy in their pj's at someone else's house? There would always be some random person left the next day and it would always be someone I would hardly know and end up just laughing over nothing with... Man, don't y'all miss those pajama parties?? Obviously I do.

Anyways, wish me luck getting through my party anxiety. I should have such horrible problems, eh? :0)

Life's all about the distraction anyways....

xoxoxo,
hpl

It has always seemed absurd to suppose that a god would choose for hiscompanions, during all eternity, the dear souls whose highest and onlyambition is to obey. -Robert Green Ingersoll, lawyer and orator (1833-1899)

WHY doesn't Heather blog anymore?

1. No one besides Julia cares. And Rose apparently. I'm not bitter, I'm just saying.

2. I really don't have much to say. Well, much blog-worthy stuff. For a long time, it's been drunk philosophical ranting, and whining or bragging about my weight issues (depending on which way the pendulum was swinging). I mean, if you want to read that stuff, just go to the archives.

3. I don't have children. Mommy blogging seems to be the thing for women my age and I don't have kids.

4. Yet, I don't party all the time. So, no night after night of drunking partying isn't going to be a great story.

5. I watch a lot of tv. Too much tv. No one gives a crap about all the tv I watch, my opinions about the tv I watch or my latest comparisons on how much religious imagery plays throughout Smallville. Even if folks DID care, no one watches the stuff I watch. Every time I try to drum up enthusiasm about my favorite shows -- crickets.

6. And further, I have tried to write reviews about stuff I like to watch and read and my reviewing skills are lacking.

7. I work full time and go to school. When I DO have free time, I usually don't have enough material to muster up something worth reading. So, lack of material is an issue again.

8. Poor memory. I never remember anything for long enough to save up witty stories about it. Which is kind of too bad, because I'm kind of dingy so silly things happen to me all the time. Like the other day, I was somewhere and something happened and then I said the funniest thing... And everyone LAUGHED, but do I remember any of what happened? No. I have killed brain cells I need for functioning.

9. While lack of an audience is a thing, too much audience is another. What if I want to bitch about someone and then it turns they're one of my 3 readers? AWKward!

10. I just kind of don't want to as much as I used to. I really used to love coming to my blog and pouring out my stuff. But there are so many blogs out there and most of them are WAY better than anything I could come up with. So, maybe I'm competitive and because I can't compete I choose not to play?

11. I get easily distracted while I'm on line. I start posting but then I remember I have to pay a bill or look up something I needed to buy or see what Britney's up to or play a game of hearts or see what the Woot! of the day is. It's a problem, but whatever. It is my problem.

I ran out of reasons.

I have always wanted to team blog with someone because I think that would be fun, but Julia won't do it and Rose has 30000 other blogs. Rose, betwee myspace and twitter and facebook and whozit and aol and yahoo and google -- are you EVER out of touch?? ;-)

That's all I'm saying.

hpl

Dear Julia,

How about if you send me even one of the pictures you have promised me from the many joint adventures we have been on in the last 8 years and then maybe you have some license to complain about me leaving you a little bored...?

Bitterly,
me

Confirmed Deleted... yet another shameless rip-off from a TV show

HP2 and I had this conversation once, so Lord knows I may have already blogged about it, but what I learned from the writer's strike is that something new once a month is much better than nothing new ever.

You know how you go through your cell phone and clean out old numbers? Sometimes those numbers are just out-dated that the person simply doesn't have or use anymore. But, sometimes those people are out-dated and you don't have or use them anymore. Does it make you feel sad? It does me.

I don't know. I think here is a person that I thought enough to save their phone number into my phone. I thought that this was a person that I was going to get in touch with again and I would want to have their number handy. Then gradually I call them less and they call me less and then it just seems silly to keep the number. But then again, what HARM does it really do to have their number on hand? Maybe it would be fun to... Or we could go to... Or we could watch... Yeah, no -- I'm never going to call that broad again.

I often wonder if these people ever had me saved in their phone. If they kept me there. Sometimes I call people I haven't talked to in a while just to play catch-up. These calls are often filed under "dialing under the influence." It makes me very sad that I don't talk to these folks more but then there is always the bitterness that accompanies that. Well, they don't call ME.

It is often this way. They don't call and I don't call and then it's just vicious cycle of not calling. Because part of what happens when you do the catch up call is the plentiful promises that we MUST get together and we MUST do something. But that just doesn't happen because their calendar is full and so is yours and do you really want to blow an evening with someone whose number you were about to permanently delete from your phone?!?!

So, in order to avoid all that, you leave their number in. As long as it is there, you can call them if you want. You will recognize their number when they call you -- which they won't. Not that I am bitter.

Okay, a lot bitter as the paragraph I just deleted attested to, but not cripplingly so. Which is good.

So, the next time you purge your phone directory (or your email addresses which is what prompted this post), think about those people. Take a moment to say a little goodbye because it is like they are dying -- you're calling it. Time of death, 10:52 pm EDT.

It's such a sad... Oh, sorry -- Daily Show is on, love you mean call you later.

Pretty good day for a Wednesday

Here’s how my day went… I had to fast this morning because we had a health risk assessment at work. It’s a free service the company provides and when I do it, I get an extra $50 towards my Wellness benefit. (This is free money the company gives us to participate in healthy lifestyle choices – weight loss, smoking cessation, apply it towards exercise equipment, etc. We get a set amount per year but if you don’t use it, you lose it.) Fasting included skipping coffee, but I was still in a pretty perky mood – unbelievably.

Got my HRA done. I knew my weight had gone up from last year, as well as my waist size and of course BMI. But what was good is that my blood pressure and cholesterol were WAY down from last year. So, that was good news and then they gave us a $2 coin to spend on healthy foods in the cafeteria. I head to the cafeteria to get milk for my breakfast and some much deserved coffee, only the cafeteria doesn’t have flavored coffee which I need with my skim milk – princess coffee, you know. But, I decide to get the milk there because I need to get a teeny bit of syrup to mix in with my cereal thing because of this crazy thing I have fallen in love with eating for breakfast.*

As I’m checking out, I realize that the cost of my milk is going to be less than my $2 coin and they don’t give you change. So, I decide to pay for the breakfast of the guy in line behind me – whom I knew from a different department. He is completely flabbergasted by this gesture. It’s really funny – he just did not know how to react. He kept asking why I was doing that, so I explained the $2 dilemma and we talk about the HRA while I’m making my whacky breakfast. He is not enrolled, but I encourage him to go. Then I head to the cafeteria to purchase my flavored coffee and wind up having to use my CAMS which I was trying to avoid – but it was worth it for his reaction. Later on, I run into a co-worker from his department and she sort of singles me out as we’re walking out a meeting and asks, “Did you buy Kevin breakfast?” I said that I did and I was really pretty amused by his reaction. She indicated that he was a bit taken aback. I told her that my message was that he should pay it forward.

The day goes on and I come home to the VAT of spaghetti sauce I had started in the crockpot. Such a ridiculous amount of food, I was really tickled. We were going to see a sneak preview with the neighbors later (a highly rare week night excursion) and I invite them over to share some of this vat of food. No one dies or gets sick from my cooking – the night is beautiful!
Then we saw a sneak preview of 10,000 B.C. In a tiny cramped local theater that I had only recently avowed I would never go to again. Truly, I say only when it is free will you find me there and then maybe not. The movie is not great. It’s not bad. You won’t wish you could get this two hours back when you see it, but you will not be overly impressed. Some of the action scenes are fun enough, but the acting is just so, so bad. AND THEN, the coolest thing happened – I saw a local celebrity in the press row --- Mal Vincent.

If you’re not in the Hampton Roads area, he is a local film critic. I really like him and always have. I don’t always agree with him, but generally if Mal doesn’t like it then I am not going to see it – at least for things I am borderline about, for sure. I accost him and he actually talks to us. He sounds like an old school Southern ahem effeminate gentleman. What my godmother refers to as a Richmond accent. We talked about the movies and he told me that he just interviewed Amy Adams and I almost peed my pants because I just LOVE her. Scott says I kissed his ass and I totally know that I did and I don't even care. It was just delightful!

I am just on the moon. I feel like I just fell in love with life. After a fall of uncertainty and a winter of change and upheaval, I really feel like there is a Spring song just dancing! These times when I am loving life, I just try to revel in it and embrace it like I would a new romance. Those fleeting times of joy and hope and a little bit of a kick in my step – they are not every day occurrences, so, when they are hear I sing the songs and shake the rafters and just love love love!

And this is coming from a woman heading towards “paper jail” to write a six page paper on Richard III and Henry VII this weekend! If I can find some zing, then you should too!

Big, life-affirming hugs,
Heather

*PS* The crazy breakfast thing I’m in love with – ½ cup of skim milk, 1 cup shredded wheat, 1 small banana sliced and 1 scant teaspoon of maple syrup. Put all the ingredients in microwaveable bowl and nuke for about one minute, then stir it up and yum – get in my belly! If you don’t love it too, I do not care!

is this a big idea or am I just full of myself?

I'm watching the Oscars and I got this idea.

Here's what I remember from high school. We did plays and the chorus did shows and not sure what else went on. But, mostly we just watched our own stuff and people only showed up if they got extra credit in English for it.

But, what if there was an awards show in high school like the Oscars and all the students got to vote -- but they had to have been to the shows in order to be allowed to vote? The night of the ceremony there could be fancy dresses and maybe even community donated limos or something? PTA or fundraisers with candy or whatever the kids do now. SELLING I-tunes!

Or batteries like they do on the subways.

I mean, the possibilities are endless and it's a possible way to get kids interested in participating in the arts in their community.

Is this crazy? And if not, how on Earth can I pass this idea on to someone who can use it? I don't want to make money (I mean, isn't my lifestyle proof of that??) but I really want someone to tell me if this is as good of an idea as it feels like.

I'm picturing everyone dressed up in their promwear and maybe someone pretending to be Ryan Seacrest on the red carpet, asking who they're wearing, etc. The ceremony presided over by the teachers and maybe some graduated Seniors. The awards would be for the plays but also any other necessary categories for any other performing arts -- depending on what's out there. Instead of a specific statue, the awards themselves would be designed by the art department so they could also get involved. There would a competition amongst them whose award would represent which honor. Or a competition about who gets to create which award and they could lobby for it.

I mean, the possibilities are endless and what a buzz of school spirit there would be, right?

I don't know... What do you think?

Quotes that make you go hmmm

The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed -- andhence clamorous to be led to safety -- by menacing it with an endlessseries of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary. -H.L. Mencken, writer, editor,and critic (1880-1956)

Dear Jess,

Don't be scared. Jeff is a great guy and from the snippets that I have heard, not only does he adore you he has also been really supportive of you. That's not going to change.

It's important to realize that in the past you may have lost yourself and it's important to realize that is something that happens. I say this because I was definitely that girl and it's still something that I struggle with. Because one of the things that happens when you are fighting so hard to not be the girl who changes herself, you also can become the girl who doesn't compromise. Not good.

My friends who lived together before marriage say that marriage didn't change much for them. But that is because they entered into the cohabitation knowing this is the person that they wanted to be with forever. (More on this.) I think it is absolutely lovely that you feel that marrying him is a way to say that you will always be there for him. That is really rather goosebump inspiring -- even in my sardonic heart.

As for forever. Well, it's not real. It is a concept that exists in Hallmark cards and Lifetime movies and all of the chick flicks that I adore. It is a wonderful concept and completely worth striving for. But, forever doesn't really encompass anything realistic and practical. I'm not saying let's change it to "as long as we both shall be able to tolerate each other." I'm suggesting somewhere in between.

Marriage is so easy it's hard. Especially for women (like us!) who are smart enough to marry someone who is our best friend. I still want to spend all my free time with Scott and still do feel weird when I go off and do things without him. And I feel weird because as much as I love hanging out with my other friends, I miss him. It's okay to miss your husband but it's really important to carve out that time to be without him so that you can miss him.

Lately we've been hanging out with our neighbors a lot and they have been married for while. She and her friends kind of tease me for preferring to spend time with Scott and still being in that newlywed phase because they have grown complacent. I get that because I am the one who preaches that wisdom is not communicable. I KNOW that there will come a time in the future where I will be dying to spend time away from Scott and will barely remember these days of just being silly and in love. I know this will come and not because I believe that we will fall out of love, but just that time changes things and our feelings will change and evolve. So, in order to give that Future Heather some fond memories, I really try to revel in the time that we have together and enjoy it.

So, this isn't really much in terms of advice and may be not the right kind of inspirational but whatever, this is me. I'm saying -- enjoy this time, forget about being scared, and just soak up being in love and being young and carefree. Life brings lots of crazy changes and is just too darned short to worry about things not working out. Maybe things WON'T work out -- but right now, you are making a great decision and really embracing this gift that life has handed you and the future be damned!

Today's the day baby -- tomorrow's the bonus! Live it up, love it up and just revel!

big hugs and congrats,
me

chicken or the egg?

Sometimes I don't know if I had emotional issues and that led to my getting overweight OR if I became overweight and then developed emotional issues about my size.

My non-media perfect size.

It's hard to say because of the media. Most of the time I'm sure it's the former. But then I think that the primary place that I hear that emotional issues are manifested in obesity -- is in the media. And the funny thing is that they are blaming themselves.

So, like Bizarro Superman -- it's hard to tell what's real anymore.

It's hard not to remember a time that I didn't think "if I were just this size, I would be happy..." It's always been this way. I mean, the goal is a moving target. Always just barely attainable so I can continue to keep happiness out of reach. Usually I match myself against someone and then try to aim for where it seems like they are physically. (At least, in mind.) I get to thinking that there's some magic formula of diet and exercise and willpower that will get me close to looking like this person and then I will be happy. I will accept that.

But, it's only mentally that this diseases exists. I don't manifest any symptoms externally -- that would mean that I would really have to exercise and care much more about my diet. To me, this is what REALLY burns calories -- is sheer and utter willpower and determination.

Grit.

I want to have grit. I want to be tough. I really don't want to care what other people think or feel or say about me. Yet, I still want to be tender at the same time. In certain senses, I am (gag) like the Republican fantasy about the Iraq War -- I want to maintain the hard candy shell but have a soft gooey interior. My marshallow heart caged in a body of steel. (Can't you just see the tattoo of that now, Kay?)

I want to WANT to run around the block and lift weights and find 0 point snacks to munch on all day. But I also want to WANT to have children and like having puppies lick my face and buy people presents for no reason.

It's this constant push and pull that has been the apex of the cone of my existence... (Yes, I know I stole this from some essay -- don't write in.) I want to be popular and well-liked, but yet I want to be left alone. I want to exercise and be active and healthy but I want to joke about being fat and lazy and can't do it if it's not true. BECAUSE I want to be known as someone who is a blunt bitch but yet lies to save people's feeling all the time. I think because I tell so many of those white lies, it makes me want to be brutally honest about how I feel all the time. Which in turn hurts people's feelings which I should just say what I mean in the first place. I want to be good at my job and still be an outsider. I wanted to be respected for my book smarts but yet appreciated for my dingy ditzy blondeness.

I don't even get me!

And now I don't know if I want to go get some exercise and some stretches or have a snack. After all, I wanted to go to bed so I could FINALLY get a good night's sleep before my long day tomorrow -- but I just couldn't wait to pour this stuff out of my head and onto my blog.

Oy, vey!

Randomness

*
Did I ever tell you that one of the reasons I love my husband as much as I do is because of my cold feet? Every night, when we climb into bed together I will almost immediately put my cold feet all over him to get them warm. One night, I had the epiphany that he never, EVER complained about this. Not even so much as a "damn, woman!" I realized this was fairly remarkable and complimented. He said that it's because he feels so bad that my feet are cold because it's painful when you're feet are that cold and he just wants to help me.

I mean, that's love people.
*
Kinda shocking that Heath Ledger died. We haven't had a young celebrity death in a while, and in fact I had been thinking that just a few weeks ago when River Phoenix happened to cross my mind. It's always shocking when young people die, but when you think about how many young people are dying in Iraq every day -- what's so special about a celebrity that he's excused?

I know, cynical.
*
I've been trying to be a better dog mother this year. I'm not very successful, mostly because I have NO patience. I just want to be a good dog mother for an hour a day and then I want to have my own life. But I still want him to adore me.

It's not working out like that.
*
I finally decided to rejoin Weight Watchers. I have many mixed feelings about it. I am excited on some levels, but mostly I really feel like I just have failed at maintaining weight loss on my own so there's some shame that goes along with that. I just wish that I had more self-control. But only because I want to be able to fit into my clothes and not for any real, respectable reason. I hope to regain the respectable reason, but mostly I just want to regain the self-respect. I am DEFINITELY losing that. I frequently pepper my conversations with the REAL f*bomb (FAT!) and just generally feel disappointed in myself...

Okay, this isn't a break but really just a skew from the disappointment in myself... I was trying to re-center my disappointment in myself and frame it in more positive light. Instead of focusing on what I have done wrong, I have really been desperately trying to focus on what I am doing right AND what could have gone even more wrong. I could have gained much more weight; I have ironically gained the weight by over-indulging in somewhat healthy foods; I know how to rein it in; and I had a friggin' brain tumor so let's be easy on ourselves, shall we? Also, I have set realistically small goals for myself with my re-entry into Weight Watchers. Anyways, I tried to share this positive spin with my mother at one of our weekly get-togethers and she just basically laughed at me. AND minimized my idea to set realistic weight loss goals, saying that it was just ridiculous.

And here's the thing -- I am 34 years old and I just had the lightning strike tonight and realized that my mother is really not emotionally supportive. Which is, of course, one of the most DUH! moments that anyone can have but it just never really occurred to me to articulate it in that way. Don't get me wrong, she is supportive in her own way and financially has always helped me in any ways that she could always. And when things are good, she's happy for me and proud, I guess. But, she just doesn't do that rah, rah cheerleader thing that you really need your mom for. She definitely doesn't try to minimize my worries -- if anything, she thinks of 20 things to add to what I was worrying about. And if I am struggling with things in my life, like trying to lose weight or quitting smoking she really sucks at those things. Emotionally, that is.

I just can't believe that it never occurred to me that this was the case until now. I feel like so much has cleared up. And again, I'm not saying that I blame her for all of my problems or any of that crap. She had a LOT on her own plate and I really think she did the best she could. But, it just explains why I am as emotionally needy as I am. I always thought it was a daddy issue -- but it's not.

WEIRD!
*
And after that Freudian delve, who has time for more randomness? I was saving snippets of stuff to blog about one day but most of them were specific to holidays and other crap and now are not relevant.

If I ever write again, I'd like to talk to you about marriage. What does being married mean to you? Why should people -- especially women for whom it's close to slavery -- do it? Are there more pros than cons? I believe yes, and not just for the romantic reasons -- from a statistical perspective, you're better off being married than single. I'm not sure if this is the case if you just settle, but who knows?

Anyways -- I have to go -- the cycle of routine and drudgery and the slow march towards death awaits...

hugs,
hpl

Okay, I didn't think I would really be able to sit through that asshole Tim Russert, but this was truly great stuff! I mean, anyone who can withstand Russert AND call him out -- even a little -- on his clippy whippy, well... I'm not saying I'm going to put a sign in my yard just yet, but I have a lot of respect for that.

Politics are bogging my brain

I am not a political blogger. (I mean, I am barely a blogger at all based on the number of posts.) I do not have an array of witty discourse to share with you about my particular feelings about the '08 election, but I gotta tell you I eat this shit up with a spoon. I like reading about it almost as much (maybe even more) than celebrity news crap. (There is only so many Britney stories that one can tolerate in week without wanting to fly out to California and smack the shit out of that poor confused fucked up girl...)

That is a good example of why I am not a political blogger right there. I can barely right a complete paragraph without including the shit and the f*bomb. (Obviously, I will say fuck but f*bomb is just wicked funny isn't it?)

Plus, I am an emotional voter. I vote for who feels right -- as long as they are a Democrat.

Anyways, I have been swinging back and forth between Obama and Clinton for a while now. I occasionally dabble in John Edwards, but I just can't see myself going for the white guy in this historic year. It is just so ridiculous that we are this allegedly free nation and yet we keep re-electing these asshole white guys. What the fuck do they care about my problems?

You probably already know about this whole issue about Clinton making comments about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. that were interpreted as a slam against the entire Civil Rights Movement... And then it is being spun OUT of control by assholes like Tim Russert here. I mean, Lord have mercy.

I don't know why I thought we could get through this without talking about race and gender and then further saying that one of them was playing that for their own end. Clinton cries during an interview, Obama is offended by comments she made about Dr. King -- I mean, I am losing respect for both of you and particularly for you possibly taking us down a divisive path that could cost us the White House.

And goddamnit, if we do not get the White House then I am going to get on a plane and smack the shit out of one of you. After Britney. If she's still alive.

Anyways... I was going to ask for some input but now I'm all pissed off and have decided that I'm for John Edwards again.

Off the radar (again) because...

1. We FINALLY got our Wii. Paid a little more than we needed to, but it is what it is. It wasn't terrible and I'm just so happy. I mean, you wouldn't know my glee based on how often my ass is getting handed to me by Scott on a regular basis, but in theory it's fun! :)

2. Scott is finally taking the plunge to pursue getting a career in I.T. This will mean a lot of study time and going to class three nights a week. So, this has been our last hurrah and we've just been mostly spending time together and enjoying the free time.

3. I finally got Netflix. I'm mostly addicted to adding movies to my queue. Since I am on the one at a time plan, actually getting the movies has been kind of slow. Should be really interesting once I too go back to school. And really, when you factor in the satellite dish, the movies borrowed from the internet, the game systems and then just the internet itself -- we spend a ridiculous amount of money entertaining ourselves monthly. It's a good thing I am not wanting to have kids any time soon, I wouldn't have time to create them.

4. And finally, I am reading Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible. Scott read it and liked it and so that my last pre-school hurrah. I am really enjoying it. It's the story of a Baptist minister and his wife and 4 daughters and their missionary trip to the Congo in 1959. Not something I would normally be interested in on the surface, but have really been enjoying it. Getting to accidentally learn about the history of the Congo (at least, a little of it) in the process. It's always nice to learn things, especially accidentally.

Anyways, just wanted to blog a little to stay in the habit.

Just so you don't have to look at the gamma stuff forever...

I've been gone for so long that I actually have stuff to blog about...

I lived through my Hulk procedure, here are some photos and everything you wanted to know about gamma knife and were afraid to ask.

This is the "before" taken at 4:30 a.m.



This thing I had screwed into my head from about 7:00 a.m. til 2:00 p.m. They do not knock you out, but they do sedate you a little and, of course, my head was numbed. In fact, it still is a little and it's two weeks later. (No, this is not a blonde reference, but a statement of fact.)

No one seems to think this is as cool as I did. So, this bubble thing is placed over the frame and then they insert a metal measuring rod through all the holes. They then use that information to create a virtual image of my head which they use to set up the gamma program.

This is the gamma knife machine. Basically, it's an MRI like device. I did not feel anything during the actual "zapping", but what I DID feel is the pressure from having my head mechanically turned. That's what the frame is for -- the screwed in one.

This is the salad bowl through which they shoot the gamma rays. Interesting note: when Scott went back to take these pictures for me (and even before that when they wheeled me back there), he made several Hulk jokes. Some were a little more specific, referencing the names of his girlfriend, but most were like don't make her made afterwards and is she green and that crap. None of the people in there acted like they had EVER heard a Hulk joke/reference before. Maybe they were tired of them and just feigned confusiong, but still -- it was pretty surprising.

(I thought I included an after photo, but I guess not. I don't know how to add a photo after I've already added and have it be in the right order. Sorry.)

Anyways, I had the procedure done at Riverside Medical Center in Newport News, VA. I am including this information, because I googled gamma knife a fair bit prior to my procedure, but don't remember ever seeing any photos and I think it would have helped with the anxiety. (Maybe add to it, who knows?)

I'm two weeks, exactly, out from the procedure. Because I am NF2 my results are possibly different than someone who "only" has an acoustic neuroma. So far, my balance has been a little wonky (my favorite word from another site re: balance issues) but that has been the most noticeable thing. I notice this particularly after driving or if I have been sitting for a long period and then move. No noticeable difference in hearing and (thankfully) no facial paralysis. My tumor was 19 mm when they performed the gamma knife and the maximum they prefer is 25. They were able to set it up so that 80% of radiation used went into the target area and Dr. Chang was able to direct the remaining 20% into bone. (There is a word for this, but I cannot remember it.) Scott's impression from Dr. Chang telling us this is that Dr. Chang was "pleasantly surprised" that it worked out to 80% (as this made it an "A" procedure or optimal conditions) because of the size of the tumor and the NF2 factor.

So, that's all the stuff about gamma knife. We'll get into more interesting stuff soon...

A quote I liked

We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is init -- and stop there -- lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hotstove-lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove-lid again, and that iswell; but also she will never sit down on a cold one any more. -Mark Twain,author and humorist (1835-1910)