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No blogs for a couple of days because the Blogger has been grouchy and unwilling to inflict this on others. Still actually kinda grouchy but was lured from my grumbling in the cave by phonecall from friend... Not to mention that I hadn't blogged since Sunday and was starting to feel guilty because people actually check this stuff once in a while... So, whatever. Grouchy. I have come to realize that I have put on an excessive amout of weight recently and it would seem that the only thing I am willing to do to get rid of it is bitch. And piss and moan, don't forget. I feel like I'm lazy and I suck, but my friend says that the inertia is just a human characteristic. She then launched into lauding praise of her Pilates class at her gym.
Okay, what kind of friend is this? Does anyone not know that Pilates is evil?? The Devil brought Pilates to make fat people feel even MORE lame... It's advertised as this simple, low-impact, stretching thing. Bullshit -- then football is just a more advanced game of "keep away", right? (Okay, bad analogy because that is actually true.) Anyone that knows me has heard tale of my Pilates experience, but just to re-cap... I got sucked into an infomercial and bought the Winsor Pilates system. The video came and I was trying to follow along with the "modified" version, but this is just not easy because I am laying down and trying to get in just. the. right. position. and I can't see the tv and I'm breathing funny plus they keep hiding the "modified" girl because they are embarrassed. They keep showing the skinnier, stretchier girl over and over again. Okay, I'm thinking if I am skinny and stretchy then I can probably already do this -- show me the exercises designed for people for fake hips and bad knees and extra chins: that is me! But all was sailing along all right until I got to the Roll like a Ball thing. And I got stuck mid-roll and was then in the Die like a Bug position. After that I just drank beer and watched the video, but I was traumatized. Scarred, really.
My friend tries to convince me, I try to show her the light of other topics of conversation. I, as usual, prevailed. Finished our chat and then I went through my evening routine. Talked to S briefly (our phone time usually caps at about 20 minutes for a LENGTHY call), read some more Harry (I'm a slow reader but I am almost done), watched Sex and the City and came up to Blog. Got another call from another friend and found out there is some sort of Swinging undercurrent going on VA Beach. Not that I am interested personally, but it strikes me as bizarre that the person who fills my prescriptions at Rite Aid could be a Swinger and doing all kinds of bizarre things with other couples. I personally think it is hard enough to deal with someone's sexual history (I'm STILL scarred by an incident that S let slip one night) without the blatant knowledge that it is equivalent to the phone book -- and it's couples. Ick. NOT my thing and I want to think that I'm not prudish but am willing to accept that I am...
My friend and I had an interesting chat about that and it somehow segued into my current lament about my weight situation. To which she asked -- have you tried Pilates?
To which I replied, have you tried listening to this lovely humming noise my phone makes when I hang it up??
xoxo,
HP
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
Sunday, June 29, 2003
I haven't had coffee yet, but I am SO excited because the blog is working! The Blog Is Working!
Which means I have archives again that aren't screwed up. Yay Blogger! I'm so excited I may actually start paying them to do this!
What y'all don't know is that it's changed behind the curtains here at Blogger so what I used to see when I sat down to spew out my thoughts to you was a LOT more complicated than it is now and even then it was web-based publishing for dummies. But now, it's for BIG dummies! But best of all, this transitional thing that they are doing fixed my broken archives. Which means all of my thoughts are now available for viewing. From the beginning, almost 3 months ago! Are you excited? Can you feel me now??
Ok. Definitely need the coffee. But it has been a source of irritation to me that my archives were just gone and I'm very happy that they're back.
Now someone read 'em and send me mail damnit!
HP
Which means I have archives again that aren't screwed up. Yay Blogger! I'm so excited I may actually start paying them to do this!
What y'all don't know is that it's changed behind the curtains here at Blogger so what I used to see when I sat down to spew out my thoughts to you was a LOT more complicated than it is now and even then it was web-based publishing for dummies. But now, it's for BIG dummies! But best of all, this transitional thing that they are doing fixed my broken archives. Which means all of my thoughts are now available for viewing. From the beginning, almost 3 months ago! Are you excited? Can you feel me now??
Ok. Definitely need the coffee. But it has been a source of irritation to me that my archives were just gone and I'm very happy that they're back.
Now someone read 'em and send me mail damnit!
HP
Saturday, June 28, 2003
Back to the Old Country
Today was Busch Gardens day with HP2. I had been greatly anticipating this event for some time, to the point where I was having bad dreams about misplacing the tickets and so on. To the point where the excitement leading up to the event (coupled with the grander issue of someone snoring next to me) impeded a large amount of my sleep last night. (Frankly, the snorer had a bit more to do with that, but that's not as interesting, is it?) We arrived at the park before they even opened, a feat that I have heretofor never accomplished. Got to ride one of the better roller coasters, Alpengeist, twice in a row because of our head start.
I won't go into the nooks and crannies of our entire day, but HP2 was very tired too from moving until 4am and yet we managed to not get on each other's nerves all day. Through the lines (which were really not bad at all) and the fatigue and the bad jokes (guess whose?) and the large quantity of people with NO sense of humor who seemed to be surrounding us. (See example in upcoming humorous anecdote paragraph.) This is because when I am in the company of women I can say that I haven't had a lot of sleep, please be patient with me if I become snippy or snappy and the woman will fully understand and rise to the occasion. It helped that we were on similar levels of fatigue, but I think the greater thing here was the XX Chromosome combo. I think women are better at inspiring women to overcome their crankiness because they're supportive and understanding. When you're cranky around a man, he just gets defensive and refuses to try to hear you out and calm you down. Men just do whatever they have to do to shut you up, down, whatever until you're back to your usual non-cranky self. I'm not as bitter about this as I sound, I'm just pointing out that the day would have probably been a lot different if it were a man and a woman with the same level of fatigue-based crankiness.
Humorous anecdote: We had a beer about 6 in a little pub in Ireland called Grogan's. We wanted a little something to munch on with it and settled on some soft pretzels, but we were curious what the Cheese Platter they were offering looked like. A man came up and ordered one shortly after that and we were cooing over it. I made a crack that HP2 should distract him while I grabbed the platter, to which she laughed hysterically but he didn't even smirk. After he left, I said that apparently someone had already distracted him and stolen his sense of humor. She thought that was even funnier. That's the great thing about old friends, but particularly the sleep-deprived ones: they always think I am incredibly hilarious. Sometimes as much as I do! ;-)
But, I digress. HP2 & I had a marvellous time. We learned many interesting things. We learned that parrots can develop a vocabulary up to 1000 words. We learned that ravens are also similarly intelligent and can even be taught to count. We learned where all of the bathrooms are at Busch Gardens. We marvelled at the amount of culture and beauty there is at the park in addition to the sheer amusement side of it. But MOST importantly, we learned that while rain is not generally something that causes pain when it is flying at your face at 70 mph while you are upside down, this is a particularly painful event.
You see, we managed to avoid the rain until the very end. We were heading over to the Loch Ness Monster, the ride which NO trip to Busch Gardens is really complete without, to ride it at night, but also for the first time. It was just drizzling a little bit, but I guess they must have seen lightening because the Monster was sitting empty and forlorn on the tracks. I was crushed. It didn't even feel like a real trip. We poked through the gift shops forlornly and bought our little souvenirs for our boys. (Ok, so the boys are no good when we're cranky -- that doesn't mean we don't miss 'em!) We decide to take one last gaze at our Monster, just to be sure she's really down for the night. But, what this I hear? That infamous clicking and cranking as she goes up that hill? And is that screaming? YeeHA! We hurry to the line and it moved fairly quickly. As it gets down to our turn to ride we start to notice that the people coming off are a little damp. And they're getting damper each time. I'm foolishly thinking it's from that little splash you get in the tunnel. Nope. We can hear it as we climb on board and it's running off the car. It is pouring down rain. We say, this ride is only -- what? 90 seconds long? It'll be over before we know it and we won't get that wet. Wrong. I believe there have been times when I have been in my SHOWER and not been as wet as I was when I was just 2 clicks down the track. I thought it would get better once it sped up, because then we'd be going too fast to get TOO wet. Wrong again. Got wet that much faster and it HURT. I think the rain actually left dents in my skin it was so hard. I was actually happy to be in the tunnel part of the ride and normally that is the part I dread because it's very dark. I kept muttering in a maniacal fashion, warm tunnel feel good -- warm tunnel feel good. (Now I know how men feel, heh!) But, still -- in spite my pain, I don't regret it. It was awesome, even for an old dilapidated coaster, the Monster is the bomb!
So, my last big event of the summer has already past and it's not even July yet. Guess I'll have to drum up something to keep my fans coming back for more! God bless you three!
KISSES!
HP
Today was Busch Gardens day with HP2. I had been greatly anticipating this event for some time, to the point where I was having bad dreams about misplacing the tickets and so on. To the point where the excitement leading up to the event (coupled with the grander issue of someone snoring next to me) impeded a large amount of my sleep last night. (Frankly, the snorer had a bit more to do with that, but that's not as interesting, is it?) We arrived at the park before they even opened, a feat that I have heretofor never accomplished. Got to ride one of the better roller coasters, Alpengeist, twice in a row because of our head start.
I won't go into the nooks and crannies of our entire day, but HP2 was very tired too from moving until 4am and yet we managed to not get on each other's nerves all day. Through the lines (which were really not bad at all) and the fatigue and the bad jokes (guess whose?) and the large quantity of people with NO sense of humor who seemed to be surrounding us. (See example in upcoming humorous anecdote paragraph.) This is because when I am in the company of women I can say that I haven't had a lot of sleep, please be patient with me if I become snippy or snappy and the woman will fully understand and rise to the occasion. It helped that we were on similar levels of fatigue, but I think the greater thing here was the XX Chromosome combo. I think women are better at inspiring women to overcome their crankiness because they're supportive and understanding. When you're cranky around a man, he just gets defensive and refuses to try to hear you out and calm you down. Men just do whatever they have to do to shut you up, down, whatever until you're back to your usual non-cranky self. I'm not as bitter about this as I sound, I'm just pointing out that the day would have probably been a lot different if it were a man and a woman with the same level of fatigue-based crankiness.
Humorous anecdote: We had a beer about 6 in a little pub in Ireland called Grogan's. We wanted a little something to munch on with it and settled on some soft pretzels, but we were curious what the Cheese Platter they were offering looked like. A man came up and ordered one shortly after that and we were cooing over it. I made a crack that HP2 should distract him while I grabbed the platter, to which she laughed hysterically but he didn't even smirk. After he left, I said that apparently someone had already distracted him and stolen his sense of humor. She thought that was even funnier. That's the great thing about old friends, but particularly the sleep-deprived ones: they always think I am incredibly hilarious. Sometimes as much as I do! ;-)
But, I digress. HP2 & I had a marvellous time. We learned many interesting things. We learned that parrots can develop a vocabulary up to 1000 words. We learned that ravens are also similarly intelligent and can even be taught to count. We learned where all of the bathrooms are at Busch Gardens. We marvelled at the amount of culture and beauty there is at the park in addition to the sheer amusement side of it. But MOST importantly, we learned that while rain is not generally something that causes pain when it is flying at your face at 70 mph while you are upside down, this is a particularly painful event.
You see, we managed to avoid the rain until the very end. We were heading over to the Loch Ness Monster, the ride which NO trip to Busch Gardens is really complete without, to ride it at night, but also for the first time. It was just drizzling a little bit, but I guess they must have seen lightening because the Monster was sitting empty and forlorn on the tracks. I was crushed. It didn't even feel like a real trip. We poked through the gift shops forlornly and bought our little souvenirs for our boys. (Ok, so the boys are no good when we're cranky -- that doesn't mean we don't miss 'em!) We decide to take one last gaze at our Monster, just to be sure she's really down for the night. But, what this I hear? That infamous clicking and cranking as she goes up that hill? And is that screaming? YeeHA! We hurry to the line and it moved fairly quickly. As it gets down to our turn to ride we start to notice that the people coming off are a little damp. And they're getting damper each time. I'm foolishly thinking it's from that little splash you get in the tunnel. Nope. We can hear it as we climb on board and it's running off the car. It is pouring down rain. We say, this ride is only -- what? 90 seconds long? It'll be over before we know it and we won't get that wet. Wrong. I believe there have been times when I have been in my SHOWER and not been as wet as I was when I was just 2 clicks down the track. I thought it would get better once it sped up, because then we'd be going too fast to get TOO wet. Wrong again. Got wet that much faster and it HURT. I think the rain actually left dents in my skin it was so hard. I was actually happy to be in the tunnel part of the ride and normally that is the part I dread because it's very dark. I kept muttering in a maniacal fashion, warm tunnel feel good -- warm tunnel feel good. (Now I know how men feel, heh!) But, still -- in spite my pain, I don't regret it. It was awesome, even for an old dilapidated coaster, the Monster is the bomb!
So, my last big event of the summer has already past and it's not even July yet. Guess I'll have to drum up something to keep my fans coming back for more! God bless you three!
KISSES!
HP
Thursday, June 26, 2003
Office SpaceOUT
I'm not one for getting overly involved in office politics. I think it's a bunch of crap. I go to work to do my job and try to do it as well as I can without being too kiss-uppy. Well, okay -- I actually do kiss up somewhat, but I try to keep that on the down-low, so let's TRY to keep that between us. I can't help it if the Director loves me, I'm just that lovable. It helps that she's a really fun person that you can let your hair down with.
But I digress. I've been "volunteered" to help with the celebrations for my team, along with one of my co-workers (who, frankly, does ALL the work, but somehow I can't seem to get off the committee). Unfortunately, it turns out that company policy isn't so keen on asking your co-workers to contribute money to throw themselves a little party once a month although most people disregard this. So, now I have been assigned the enviable task of asking people for money without asking them for money. Mainly because there is one person in particular on my team who does not wish to give money because she's been "shafted" when her own celebration came around. This isn't necessarily true, according to my boss, but I don't want to divulge such confidences, even in this forum. Nevertheless, so we spent an hour of my life today trying to figure out the PC way to pass around the hat. It was a bunch of crap. The place is more than a little uptight. I said this is ridiculous, if people don't want to pay to celebrate then screw 'em -- we'll just skip their birthday. Or worse yet, they can just feel that much more guilty when their own birthday comes around and they've got a cake and balloons and crap waiting for them. Trouble is, people like that don't seem to feel guilty in those situations. So that was just barely the middle of my day.
So, I leave from this to get chastising message on my cellphone from my boyfriend about how sure would be nice if I sang him lovesongs and brought him flowers. This did not sit right with me and we had a little spat, which rendered me a little teary over lunch. (See TMI blog, this should explain much) Seriously, it was the silliest thing but I'm teary and grouchy and foul. Tried to rectify it, but it was too late -- he was grouchy by then too by my reaction. And normally, these spat things are no biggy but I'm period-ing and got stupid office bs to look forward to after lunch, it weighed on me. And then that just blows up every other dumb thing in my head and we're off and running.
Go back to my desk after lunch, and apparently I have been secretly tagged to handle the complaint/frustrated line. People growling and grousing and NONE with even the slightest sense of humor. Capped all of that off with Mr. Short Bus who couldn't seem to understand simple things that I was explaining because he was too busy talking to me like I was stupid to listen to what I was trying to explain. In very small words.
So, I smoked. I never smoke at work anymore. It is a very long walk and it was a very hot day. Didn't care. So, then I'm feeling lousy about myself for smoking because I'm trying to quit, even though I totally suck at the quitting. (I can quit anything else, but not something that I should.) Go back from break and it's more complainers, even less humor, and now we've got some computer problems thrown in there just for extra fun.
All in all, I wish I had stayed at home today and finished Harry Potter. Not that I'm anywhere near finishing, but I'm now at that do or die point that you get to with the HP books... You have a hard time just reading one more page or just reading til the end of that chapter. Your life starts to get interrupted, big time. And I'm not as fast of a reader as I used to be, so I really resent the world for pulling me away.
Like now, you greedy blog-readers! ;-)
love you, kisses
HP
I'm not one for getting overly involved in office politics. I think it's a bunch of crap. I go to work to do my job and try to do it as well as I can without being too kiss-uppy. Well, okay -- I actually do kiss up somewhat, but I try to keep that on the down-low, so let's TRY to keep that between us. I can't help it if the Director loves me, I'm just that lovable. It helps that she's a really fun person that you can let your hair down with.
But I digress. I've been "volunteered" to help with the celebrations for my team, along with one of my co-workers (who, frankly, does ALL the work, but somehow I can't seem to get off the committee). Unfortunately, it turns out that company policy isn't so keen on asking your co-workers to contribute money to throw themselves a little party once a month although most people disregard this. So, now I have been assigned the enviable task of asking people for money without asking them for money. Mainly because there is one person in particular on my team who does not wish to give money because she's been "shafted" when her own celebration came around. This isn't necessarily true, according to my boss, but I don't want to divulge such confidences, even in this forum. Nevertheless, so we spent an hour of my life today trying to figure out the PC way to pass around the hat. It was a bunch of crap. The place is more than a little uptight. I said this is ridiculous, if people don't want to pay to celebrate then screw 'em -- we'll just skip their birthday. Or worse yet, they can just feel that much more guilty when their own birthday comes around and they've got a cake and balloons and crap waiting for them. Trouble is, people like that don't seem to feel guilty in those situations. So that was just barely the middle of my day.
So, I leave from this to get chastising message on my cellphone from my boyfriend about how sure would be nice if I sang him lovesongs and brought him flowers. This did not sit right with me and we had a little spat, which rendered me a little teary over lunch. (See TMI blog, this should explain much) Seriously, it was the silliest thing but I'm teary and grouchy and foul. Tried to rectify it, but it was too late -- he was grouchy by then too by my reaction. And normally, these spat things are no biggy but I'm period-ing and got stupid office bs to look forward to after lunch, it weighed on me. And then that just blows up every other dumb thing in my head and we're off and running.
Go back to my desk after lunch, and apparently I have been secretly tagged to handle the complaint/frustrated line. People growling and grousing and NONE with even the slightest sense of humor. Capped all of that off with Mr. Short Bus who couldn't seem to understand simple things that I was explaining because he was too busy talking to me like I was stupid to listen to what I was trying to explain. In very small words.
So, I smoked. I never smoke at work anymore. It is a very long walk and it was a very hot day. Didn't care. So, then I'm feeling lousy about myself for smoking because I'm trying to quit, even though I totally suck at the quitting. (I can quit anything else, but not something that I should.) Go back from break and it's more complainers, even less humor, and now we've got some computer problems thrown in there just for extra fun.
All in all, I wish I had stayed at home today and finished Harry Potter. Not that I'm anywhere near finishing, but I'm now at that do or die point that you get to with the HP books... You have a hard time just reading one more page or just reading til the end of that chapter. Your life starts to get interrupted, big time. And I'm not as fast of a reader as I used to be, so I really resent the world for pulling me away.
Like now, you greedy blog-readers! ;-)
love you, kisses
HP
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
Too Much Information
I think that most male readers will avert their eyes and run screaming from the room at my next statement -- I would like to apologize in advance.
My period starts tomorrow.
You (especially if you are a man reading this who has not as yet run screaming from the room) would think this would be a time of some level of turmoil and angst, but in fact -- this is usually the BEST time of the cycle. Here are a few reasons why... The dreaded time has arrived and you can focus on other things, instead of having to mentally feel the inside of your panties and assess their level of damage at 2pm to see if the Arrival has occured. You can stop peeing every 17 minutes, which makes your boss stop eyeing the amount of liquid you consume. The bloating starts the reversal process (thanks to all that peeing!) and you can cease feeling like any minute someone is going to tie strings to you and fly you over Macy's on Thanksgiving. ("And what's next in our parade, Kathy Lee?" "Well, Reeg, I think we have the ever-popular Heather Bloat Float -- looks like she's even bigger this year than last!") You can start focusing on some of the REAL drama in your life.
And you know what? You can find out that you have no drama. Yes, I -- Heather J. Blige -- have come to embrace no more drama in my life. I haven't stopped expecting it, which causes some inner turmoil. Because I feel as though I am constantly rushing towards something, some goal, some eventuality. And I have realized that what I feel like I'm rushing towards, or rather what I feel like I'm waiting for I guess is the drama. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's been a long time since the SS Heather's course ran smooth (er, smoothly? Damn, aren't I old enough to know my adverbs by now??) and the fact that it has done so now for QUITE some time is a bit disconcerting. Yes, I have had my bumps -- minor financial setbacks, fights with my boyfriend, misunderstandings with friends -- but really, nothing that I can't handle. Nothing that leaves me feeling like I'm all alone in this cold, cruel world. All around me I have friends with turmoil -- accidents and break-ups and medical issues and death, even -- and I feel very lucky. And I get nervous making that statement because I feel like I'm tempting the Fates.
But, I'm tempting. Bring it on, Fate. You think you got game?
Just kidding Fate, just kidding. You got game and it ain't no Candyland!
So, from bleeding to blessed -- that's some segue, huh?
HP
I think that most male readers will avert their eyes and run screaming from the room at my next statement -- I would like to apologize in advance.
My period starts tomorrow.
You (especially if you are a man reading this who has not as yet run screaming from the room) would think this would be a time of some level of turmoil and angst, but in fact -- this is usually the BEST time of the cycle. Here are a few reasons why... The dreaded time has arrived and you can focus on other things, instead of having to mentally feel the inside of your panties and assess their level of damage at 2pm to see if the Arrival has occured. You can stop peeing every 17 minutes, which makes your boss stop eyeing the amount of liquid you consume. The bloating starts the reversal process (thanks to all that peeing!) and you can cease feeling like any minute someone is going to tie strings to you and fly you over Macy's on Thanksgiving. ("And what's next in our parade, Kathy Lee?" "Well, Reeg, I think we have the ever-popular Heather Bloat Float -- looks like she's even bigger this year than last!") You can start focusing on some of the REAL drama in your life.
And you know what? You can find out that you have no drama. Yes, I -- Heather J. Blige -- have come to embrace no more drama in my life. I haven't stopped expecting it, which causes some inner turmoil. Because I feel as though I am constantly rushing towards something, some goal, some eventuality. And I have realized that what I feel like I'm rushing towards, or rather what I feel like I'm waiting for I guess is the drama. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's been a long time since the SS Heather's course ran smooth (er, smoothly? Damn, aren't I old enough to know my adverbs by now??) and the fact that it has done so now for QUITE some time is a bit disconcerting. Yes, I have had my bumps -- minor financial setbacks, fights with my boyfriend, misunderstandings with friends -- but really, nothing that I can't handle. Nothing that leaves me feeling like I'm all alone in this cold, cruel world. All around me I have friends with turmoil -- accidents and break-ups and medical issues and death, even -- and I feel very lucky. And I get nervous making that statement because I feel like I'm tempting the Fates.
But, I'm tempting. Bring it on, Fate. You think you got game?
Just kidding Fate, just kidding. You got game and it ain't no Candyland!
So, from bleeding to blessed -- that's some segue, huh?
HP
Monday, June 23, 2003
DUI
I just talked to someone who was so drunk that she wasn't even sure where SHE was, much less who I was. It was very disconcerting, it's rare -- anymore -- that I am in this position when I am not drunk too. And my days of DUI (dialing under the influence) have long past. I have some fond memories of the times that I did do it, but can't imagine now. It was scary being on the receiving end of that. She must have asked me a dozen times why I was home alone, why wasn't that guy coming in? I asked her if she meant S and she said no, that OTHER guy you were just talking to? Um. I wasn't talking to anyone but her. On the phone. I was outside for a moment and a guy drove up to the neighbor's but I didn't even say anything about that.
I just want to apologize to anyone who's ever been on the receiving end of that. The DUI from me, that is. I remember all too well the allure of the phone when you've had a few too many. It just seems to have a life-force all of its own. Begging you to dial numbers that you had long since purged, but not from your cell phone memory -- unfortunately. I used to regularly assist this particular friend with her own truly bizarre brand of DUI -- she would call me on my cell phone... From her cell phone. While we were sitting next to each other at the bar. It was funny in a really sad, pathetic kind of way. We had a lot of laughs in our drunk, bar-crawling days, but then it became pretty obvious that was her primary point of interest, whereas I decided that I needed to concentrate on keeping my liver in tact, and trying to preserve what little memory I had left. This must have worked to some extent, since I can still remember some of the stories! ;-)
Have been greatly disturbed mid-blog by sad news from Godmother, so am going to take off.
HP
I just talked to someone who was so drunk that she wasn't even sure where SHE was, much less who I was. It was very disconcerting, it's rare -- anymore -- that I am in this position when I am not drunk too. And my days of DUI (dialing under the influence) have long past. I have some fond memories of the times that I did do it, but can't imagine now. It was scary being on the receiving end of that. She must have asked me a dozen times why I was home alone, why wasn't that guy coming in? I asked her if she meant S and she said no, that OTHER guy you were just talking to? Um. I wasn't talking to anyone but her. On the phone. I was outside for a moment and a guy drove up to the neighbor's but I didn't even say anything about that.
I just want to apologize to anyone who's ever been on the receiving end of that. The DUI from me, that is. I remember all too well the allure of the phone when you've had a few too many. It just seems to have a life-force all of its own. Begging you to dial numbers that you had long since purged, but not from your cell phone memory -- unfortunately. I used to regularly assist this particular friend with her own truly bizarre brand of DUI -- she would call me on my cell phone... From her cell phone. While we were sitting next to each other at the bar. It was funny in a really sad, pathetic kind of way. We had a lot of laughs in our drunk, bar-crawling days, but then it became pretty obvious that was her primary point of interest, whereas I decided that I needed to concentrate on keeping my liver in tact, and trying to preserve what little memory I had left. This must have worked to some extent, since I can still remember some of the stories! ;-)
Have been greatly disturbed mid-blog by sad news from Godmother, so am going to take off.
HP
Interesting things in my inbox
Not my Heather's Head Inbox -- Lord knows you people just read for free without expressing of your OWN opinions about this information. Don't say thanks, don't offer your own opposing viewpoints, don't even say fuck ya -- and I'm not bitter, so I don't care.
Nope, this was from the OTHER inbox. The private one, ooooo. Got a cool quote from my friend K that I'm thinking of tattooing on my ass, and YES, there is in fact enough space even for quote of this length.
"Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes brave men and women to win them."
-Ralph Waldo "My Hero" Emerson (K added the "my hero" but kinda have to agree after this way-cool quote)
And then following was the word of the day...
bloviate \BLOH-vee-ayt\ verb
: to speak or write verbosely and windily
Hmmm... Who does this remind us of?
That's all -- just got home, gonna graze on a ham samwich right quick and spend the rest of the night with my head buried in Harry Potter.
HP
Not my Heather's Head Inbox -- Lord knows you people just read for free without expressing of your OWN opinions about this information. Don't say thanks, don't offer your own opposing viewpoints, don't even say fuck ya -- and I'm not bitter, so I don't care.
Nope, this was from the OTHER inbox. The private one, ooooo. Got a cool quote from my friend K that I'm thinking of tattooing on my ass, and YES, there is in fact enough space even for quote of this length.
"Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes brave men and women to win them."
-Ralph Waldo "My Hero" Emerson (K added the "my hero" but kinda have to agree after this way-cool quote)
And then following was the word of the day...
bloviate \BLOH-vee-ayt\ verb
: to speak or write verbosely and windily
Hmmm... Who does this remind us of?
That's all -- just got home, gonna graze on a ham samwich right quick and spend the rest of the night with my head buried in Harry Potter.
HP
EPIPHANY!
I don't think I have time to write all this before I go to work, because it was a shower epiphany and those are the BEST kind. Do you do this? Mull over your deep thoughts while in the shower and somewhere between the lather, rinse, repeat -- the ANSWER comes to you. It's the best when it happens and when it doesn't, no biggie either because you're usually thinking about your post-shower routine so you forget about the BIG question.
So, I'm an only child. Came from a somewhat over-protective background -- not as much as some of my friends, far more than others -- where are you going? What are you doing? When are you going to be back? Let me dig into your private thoughts and read your journal and your email and listen to your phonecalls. You're going out in THAT? And from this station in life I almost immediately hooked up with a man who was 10 years older than me, right when I was on the brink of freedom. He was emotionally, verbally and occasionally physically abusive -- a fabulous cocktail stirred with a sense of self-righteousness. I thought I loved him and wound up throwing away 7 years of my life on that relationship. Because he was over-protective -- where are you going? What are you doing? When are you going to be back? Let me dig into your private thoughts and read your journal and your email and listen to your phonecalls. You're going out in THAT? I think I have spent the bulk of my formative years believing that if someone wasn't trying to get into my head and figure me out without my consent that this must be some kind of love. Because this is how my brain has been formed. And now, that in my life I have someone who gives me freedom and respects my thoughts and privacy... I don't always know how to handle that. How can you love me if you actually RESPECT me? If you believe that I am capable of taking care of myself, then what do I need you for?
Fucked up, isn't it?
It was quite the wake-up call amongst the multiple bottles of shampoo and body wash and lotion and so forth. And the rubber duckies. I need you because you DO believe that I'm capable of taking care of myself and not only do you love me in spite of that, you may love me BECAUSE of that. You even believe that I can do more than even I think I am capable of -- WOW!
The sort of revelations make the morning just SING -- and the day and the week and MY LIFE! Because now that I realize that I can relax and just be myself and it's okay not to always be over-protected, because I can protect myself -- then look out world! I can finally appreciate being appreciated. It's a wonderful thing, you just don't even know...
Would love to further expound with more clarity, but the beaty ritual awaits!
much love,
HP
I don't think I have time to write all this before I go to work, because it was a shower epiphany and those are the BEST kind. Do you do this? Mull over your deep thoughts while in the shower and somewhere between the lather, rinse, repeat -- the ANSWER comes to you. It's the best when it happens and when it doesn't, no biggie either because you're usually thinking about your post-shower routine so you forget about the BIG question.
So, I'm an only child. Came from a somewhat over-protective background -- not as much as some of my friends, far more than others -- where are you going? What are you doing? When are you going to be back? Let me dig into your private thoughts and read your journal and your email and listen to your phonecalls. You're going out in THAT? And from this station in life I almost immediately hooked up with a man who was 10 years older than me, right when I was on the brink of freedom. He was emotionally, verbally and occasionally physically abusive -- a fabulous cocktail stirred with a sense of self-righteousness. I thought I loved him and wound up throwing away 7 years of my life on that relationship. Because he was over-protective -- where are you going? What are you doing? When are you going to be back? Let me dig into your private thoughts and read your journal and your email and listen to your phonecalls. You're going out in THAT? I think I have spent the bulk of my formative years believing that if someone wasn't trying to get into my head and figure me out without my consent that this must be some kind of love. Because this is how my brain has been formed. And now, that in my life I have someone who gives me freedom and respects my thoughts and privacy... I don't always know how to handle that. How can you love me if you actually RESPECT me? If you believe that I am capable of taking care of myself, then what do I need you for?
Fucked up, isn't it?
It was quite the wake-up call amongst the multiple bottles of shampoo and body wash and lotion and so forth. And the rubber duckies. I need you because you DO believe that I'm capable of taking care of myself and not only do you love me in spite of that, you may love me BECAUSE of that. You even believe that I can do more than even I think I am capable of -- WOW!
The sort of revelations make the morning just SING -- and the day and the week and MY LIFE! Because now that I realize that I can relax and just be myself and it's okay not to always be over-protected, because I can protect myself -- then look out world! I can finally appreciate being appreciated. It's a wonderful thing, you just don't even know...
Would love to further expound with more clarity, but the beaty ritual awaits!
much love,
HP
Sunday, June 22, 2003
I've been thinking a lot today about attitudes and how much they shape our lives and who we really are. And how if we're not really in touch with the truth about what our attitude says about us, then honestly -- how in touch are we with who we REALLY are?? I think a lot of time, I present certain attitudes and assert my beliefs on things with a vehemence that may not really run true to my own character. I don't think I always practice what I preach is basically what I'm saying. I just realized this fully today and it took me a little off-guard, to realize just how little I am in touch with this aspect of myself. After all, I'm the Queen Promoter of Self-awareness, dare I risk being de-throned by over-looking major gaps in my own character??
For example, I have always purported that happiness is a choice. That we can either take active steps to make sure that we are happy and continue to keep that level of happiness in our lives or we can ignore that things make us unhappy and continue along blindly, yet bitch all the while about how unhappy we are. I believe this very fully and yet there are many times in my life where I find myself bitching about things that I have control over and choose to not exercise that control. Like my lack of education, for one example. These thoughts are brought to mind because a close friend of mine is caught up in a relationship that makes her unhappy yet chooses to go forward in the unhappiness, somehow believing that she does not have a choice. Or she thinks there would be greater unhappines if she were to get out of the relationship, perhaps believing that somehow the situation will improve and she will one day have the happiness back that she had at the beginning of said relationship. As someone who walked this path for years and years, I want to tell her -- she will not. It's better to be alone and unhappy than to be with someone and be unhappy but stay because you believe that person will change. That person is not going to change. And if you don't accept that, you're BOTH going to be unhappy. But I find myself often making decisions that do not really make me happy because I do not fully think them through. I act first and then think about how things are going to come down afterwards. It's a bizarre way to live life if you've never tried it...
Anyways. I'm at a bit of a ramble. I'm upset for my friend. How do you make someone see that they are unhappy if they are not?? I struggle with this because again -- I lived it. For a LONG time. And people tried to rescue me and I fought against them with my stubborn way. That is what she does, too. I still think back on all of the times that my friends came to me time and time again and begged me to see the "light" but I was so caught up in my belief that my way was the only way and that surely I knew what was best for me that it was hard to think others wanted me to be unhappy. And alone. How do I make her see that being alone isn't all that bad? That being with someone who really FITS with you is better, even if for a time that person is just you?? Is it even my place to bother?? Do I let her wander her own way down this path and try to be as supportive as I can? It's not my way to stay out of people's business, but I know all too well what it's like having people in yours. It's a difficult path and I feel mired in the briars about it.
Sorry for the heavy subject matter -- only drudgery like this could drag me away from Harry Potter and to the blog world! I meant to insert something light-hearted about a friend teasing me for being domesticated now and the horrors that sentence creates in the bowels of my being, but drama snuck its way in. Ah well, at least it's not MY drama -- my emotional baggage may be cute and matching, but it's still at the max that I want to deal with, thank you very much!
Kisses,
HP
Saturday, June 21, 2003
Harry Potter and the Magnetic Poetry with a dash of Match-making
Yes, I stood in line and got Harry Potter this morning. Of COURSE! Did you question the length of my devotion to all things HP? I've started reading but had to pull myself away to answer the phone. Good thing because I have things to do today and once I get started I will be lost to the world for some time.
While I was in line (I was fortunately in a less than popular local Waldenbooks and only stood waiting for about 20 minutes), I found refrigerator poetry in the impulse buy rack. Which I impulsively bought as well. I have ALWAYS wanted that silly thing and so that has been the main thing keeping me away from the lure of Harry Potter. I've been pushing words around my refrigerator door and making them say silly things. I'm sure I will get tired of it soon and wish I had my $20 back but in the meantime, it's fun to pretend to be creative again! Perhaps some of my more memorable creations can be posted here!
Had the best time hanging out with my boyfriend last night... There are sometimes when we are together that everything is so clear and so lax and it just seems like we have never had a problem between us in the world. We have the best talks and get down to nitty gritty stuff without it getting all weepy and melodramatic. Although I was disturbed to realize that I no longer seem to have my own personality, that I seem to be some female morphed version of him -- spewing out his -isms and jokes as if I never had any of my own. And then I realize I can't even remember any of my own. It's a disturbing epiphany. One that I can't shake. I am not a cookie cutter, this is what the whole point of the Heather Allure is, isn't it? I based a match.com ad around the theme, for pity's sake!
Okay... That was poor segue, even for me -- but have been itching to talk about this because friend of mine is joining the ranks of the online dating community, with much support and rah-rah from me. We were online together a few nights ago, browsing the availables in her area, and I was amused to note just how many men all make the comment "tired of the bar scene." It's an interesting dilemma in this day and age, because if you are not one for the "bar scene" then where are you to go to scout out your future Mr.? S & I met at work and came together through a series of flukes and mishaps, largely orchestrated by me (don't argue dear -- we both know that we wouldn't be together if it weren't for my bluntness)... But, it's often heartbreaking to date people you work with (an experience I am only too aware of) and if you're not a church-goer, where does that leave you? The grocery store? Still, I think that the "online scene" will someday surge to unproportioned heights and people will find their way back to the bars with lines about "I'm tired of the online scene". There's too much that you can alter about yourself online that is just not possible meeting people face-to-face. I don't even mean the obvious, physical stuff. Just about your personality in general. We all have this idea of who we hope we are in our heads. Some of us are more in touch with reality with that vision than others. And it's that distortion of reality vs. fantasy where the trouble begins.
Still... I'm a big fan of the genre. If I were "out there" again, I'd definitely have my name in the .com hat and pay my $20 gladly. You spend more than that in a few hours at a bar only to be bitterly disappointed by men who are too afraid of your brilliance to step up to the plate. At least on-line you have time to gauge if someone's personality is in line with your own -- without the "tones", they have only your words to figure out your intentions. It's a bit like dancing in the dark -- exciting, interesting. And there's the chance, as mentioned above, to create someone's perception of you before they have the chance to create their own. It's a bit like Frankenstein, isn't it? Let me tell you how I WANT you to see me and maybe I can tell you enough of that that we can both believe this is the truth about me.
But the best part is when you really do meet someone who fits -- and they figure out the truth about you and still stick around. They know what all of your little quirks and nuances are, and not only do they love you in spite of that -- sometimes it is even one of the factors in it. This is what I hope for my searching friend, for someone to discover her truths and share with her a few of his own.
Rambling Heather (is there a synonym for rambling that starts with an 'h'?) off to do her daily duties -- so I can slack off and be Potterized for the rest of my weekend!
kisses!
HP
PS: Deliberate omission of on-coming Sex & the City return. Have to have things on tap to blog about, don't I??
Yes, I stood in line and got Harry Potter this morning. Of COURSE! Did you question the length of my devotion to all things HP? I've started reading but had to pull myself away to answer the phone. Good thing because I have things to do today and once I get started I will be lost to the world for some time.
While I was in line (I was fortunately in a less than popular local Waldenbooks and only stood waiting for about 20 minutes), I found refrigerator poetry in the impulse buy rack. Which I impulsively bought as well. I have ALWAYS wanted that silly thing and so that has been the main thing keeping me away from the lure of Harry Potter. I've been pushing words around my refrigerator door and making them say silly things. I'm sure I will get tired of it soon and wish I had my $20 back but in the meantime, it's fun to pretend to be creative again! Perhaps some of my more memorable creations can be posted here!
Had the best time hanging out with my boyfriend last night... There are sometimes when we are together that everything is so clear and so lax and it just seems like we have never had a problem between us in the world. We have the best talks and get down to nitty gritty stuff without it getting all weepy and melodramatic. Although I was disturbed to realize that I no longer seem to have my own personality, that I seem to be some female morphed version of him -- spewing out his -isms and jokes as if I never had any of my own. And then I realize I can't even remember any of my own. It's a disturbing epiphany. One that I can't shake. I am not a cookie cutter, this is what the whole point of the Heather Allure is, isn't it? I based a match.com ad around the theme, for pity's sake!
Okay... That was poor segue, even for me -- but have been itching to talk about this because friend of mine is joining the ranks of the online dating community, with much support and rah-rah from me. We were online together a few nights ago, browsing the availables in her area, and I was amused to note just how many men all make the comment "tired of the bar scene." It's an interesting dilemma in this day and age, because if you are not one for the "bar scene" then where are you to go to scout out your future Mr.? S & I met at work and came together through a series of flukes and mishaps, largely orchestrated by me (don't argue dear -- we both know that we wouldn't be together if it weren't for my bluntness)... But, it's often heartbreaking to date people you work with (an experience I am only too aware of) and if you're not a church-goer, where does that leave you? The grocery store? Still, I think that the "online scene" will someday surge to unproportioned heights and people will find their way back to the bars with lines about "I'm tired of the online scene". There's too much that you can alter about yourself online that is just not possible meeting people face-to-face. I don't even mean the obvious, physical stuff. Just about your personality in general. We all have this idea of who we hope we are in our heads. Some of us are more in touch with reality with that vision than others. And it's that distortion of reality vs. fantasy where the trouble begins.
Still... I'm a big fan of the genre. If I were "out there" again, I'd definitely have my name in the .com hat and pay my $20 gladly. You spend more than that in a few hours at a bar only to be bitterly disappointed by men who are too afraid of your brilliance to step up to the plate. At least on-line you have time to gauge if someone's personality is in line with your own -- without the "tones", they have only your words to figure out your intentions. It's a bit like dancing in the dark -- exciting, interesting. And there's the chance, as mentioned above, to create someone's perception of you before they have the chance to create their own. It's a bit like Frankenstein, isn't it? Let me tell you how I WANT you to see me and maybe I can tell you enough of that that we can both believe this is the truth about me.
But the best part is when you really do meet someone who fits -- and they figure out the truth about you and still stick around. They know what all of your little quirks and nuances are, and not only do they love you in spite of that -- sometimes it is even one of the factors in it. This is what I hope for my searching friend, for someone to discover her truths and share with her a few of his own.
Rambling Heather (is there a synonym for rambling that starts with an 'h'?) off to do her daily duties -- so I can slack off and be Potterized for the rest of my weekend!
kisses!
HP
PS: Deliberate omission of on-coming Sex & the City return. Have to have things on tap to blog about, don't I??
Thursday, June 19, 2003
SWEET BABY JAMES!
My friend Scout (whom I can list by her full name because it's just her nickname!) has just elevated herself to the top of the friend list. Sorry, ladies -- but can YOU get me VIP James Taylor concert tickets?? Didn't think so! But she won them through her work and we went last night and it was friggin' AWESOME! I mean, it's James Taylor for Christ's sake, how is that going to suck??
She invited me Monday night and I was thrilled because I was definitely at a bit of blue point in my life then. I wasn't her first choice (surprise, a BOY was her first choice) but who cared? I was the one going. Bragged to everyone I could think of that I was going. It was hard, but trust me -- I found ways to work it into conversation. Like, "Yeah, this rain has been just a major drag, huh? And speaking of rain, you know I've seen fire AND I've seen rain and IIIIII am going to see James Taylor sing that on Wednesday night!" One girl from work was like James Taylor? He's OLD, I sold tickets to his concerts back in '92 when I was at Ticketmaster. So, after I was done bitch-slapping her for being an idiot I explained that it's Sweet Baby James... The Rolling Stones are riddled with arthritis and using walkers to get on stage but you'd go see them if you could, wouldn't you? It's about the LEGEND, for the love of God! When she got up off the floor, she agreed.
Anyways, as expected the concert was amazing. James was just so humble and loving -- reaching out to the people in the front row and shaking their hands and signing their posters and stuff. Accepting gifts and so forth. Sang some new songs that I didn't know, but of course -- all the ones that you know and love too. Wow. Yeah, he's old and he's bald and he dresses like someone's dad but I don't care -- he's just got sexy going on. Maybe it's his total willingness to share the spotlight -- giving all the band members and the back-up singers their props. And the trumpet player was THE bomb -- he was playing trumpet with one hand and playing the keyboard with the other. Wow. And he did TWO encores, I didn't get THAT kind of respect when I went to see Dave Matthews the last time. And those tickets cost the same just for me to sit on the LAWN. Wrapped it up with Sweet Baby James, of course. I got a little swept away. Well, actually there was some weeping prior to that, but that was just poor pupil reaction to the light show at the end. I was a sopping mess because of that, but the only reason that really sucked is because I didn't want to tear my eyes away from him but if I wanted to stop the flow then it was pretty much a necessity.
But thanks to James Taylor, my offline problems this week are pretty much a thing of the past. That's sort of a long story, and there ARE some things that even I do not blog about. Let's just say that there was a late night phone call and I got swept off my feet the likes of which I had not felt in longer than I want to say...
So, my biscuits are buttered as it were, my Scout gets 2 merit badges for being an Awesome Friend and you, my loyal readers, have me back in blogging shape again. Is it just me or did it feel like the Universe just shifted back into place?? ;-)
XOXO,
HP
My friend Scout (whom I can list by her full name because it's just her nickname!) has just elevated herself to the top of the friend list. Sorry, ladies -- but can YOU get me VIP James Taylor concert tickets?? Didn't think so! But she won them through her work and we went last night and it was friggin' AWESOME! I mean, it's James Taylor for Christ's sake, how is that going to suck??
She invited me Monday night and I was thrilled because I was definitely at a bit of blue point in my life then. I wasn't her first choice (surprise, a BOY was her first choice) but who cared? I was the one going. Bragged to everyone I could think of that I was going. It was hard, but trust me -- I found ways to work it into conversation. Like, "Yeah, this rain has been just a major drag, huh? And speaking of rain, you know I've seen fire AND I've seen rain and IIIIII am going to see James Taylor sing that on Wednesday night!" One girl from work was like James Taylor? He's OLD, I sold tickets to his concerts back in '92 when I was at Ticketmaster. So, after I was done bitch-slapping her for being an idiot I explained that it's Sweet Baby James... The Rolling Stones are riddled with arthritis and using walkers to get on stage but you'd go see them if you could, wouldn't you? It's about the LEGEND, for the love of God! When she got up off the floor, she agreed.
Anyways, as expected the concert was amazing. James was just so humble and loving -- reaching out to the people in the front row and shaking their hands and signing their posters and stuff. Accepting gifts and so forth. Sang some new songs that I didn't know, but of course -- all the ones that you know and love too. Wow. Yeah, he's old and he's bald and he dresses like someone's dad but I don't care -- he's just got sexy going on. Maybe it's his total willingness to share the spotlight -- giving all the band members and the back-up singers their props. And the trumpet player was THE bomb -- he was playing trumpet with one hand and playing the keyboard with the other. Wow. And he did TWO encores, I didn't get THAT kind of respect when I went to see Dave Matthews the last time. And those tickets cost the same just for me to sit on the LAWN. Wrapped it up with Sweet Baby James, of course. I got a little swept away. Well, actually there was some weeping prior to that, but that was just poor pupil reaction to the light show at the end. I was a sopping mess because of that, but the only reason that really sucked is because I didn't want to tear my eyes away from him but if I wanted to stop the flow then it was pretty much a necessity.
But thanks to James Taylor, my offline problems this week are pretty much a thing of the past. That's sort of a long story, and there ARE some things that even I do not blog about. Let's just say that there was a late night phone call and I got swept off my feet the likes of which I had not felt in longer than I want to say...
So, my biscuits are buttered as it were, my Scout gets 2 merit badges for being an Awesome Friend and you, my loyal readers, have me back in blogging shape again. Is it just me or did it feel like the Universe just shifted back into place?? ;-)
XOXO,
HP
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
Well damn. Damn damn damn. I came "online" again just to share with y'all the boring story of my Renters class. And then I hit the wrong damned button and lost the whole friggin' thing... But it went something like this...
Blah blah blah, teacher is cool but has really deep Weather man voice.... Does anyone else think that guys with deep voices sound like meteorologists? Blah blah blah... Found out that my classmates are better employees than I am because they cheat the system but it's known that this is okay. We're expected to be available for calls a certain percentage of the time and they keep that number high by keeping the customer on hold while they note his account or whatever. Blah blah blah, I can't do this -- feel too guilty. Blah blah blah renters is weird -- the customers can go online and issue the policy to themselves but I have to go to class for days to do it -- blah blah blah, doesn't this make me dumb?
And a bunch of other stuff like that. But now, it's after 7 and I want to eat something at a normal hour for once in my life so I am going to do that. Still dealing with stuff offline/outside Heather's Head so will go back to previous unavailable status. Will return soon...
HP
Blah blah blah, teacher is cool but has really deep Weather man voice.... Does anyone else think that guys with deep voices sound like meteorologists? Blah blah blah... Found out that my classmates are better employees than I am because they cheat the system but it's known that this is okay. We're expected to be available for calls a certain percentage of the time and they keep that number high by keeping the customer on hold while they note his account or whatever. Blah blah blah, I can't do this -- feel too guilty. Blah blah blah renters is weird -- the customers can go online and issue the policy to themselves but I have to go to class for days to do it -- blah blah blah, doesn't this make me dumb?
And a bunch of other stuff like that. But now, it's after 7 and I want to eat something at a normal hour for once in my life so I am going to do that. Still dealing with stuff offline/outside Heather's Head so will go back to previous unavailable status. Will return soon...
HP
Monday, June 16, 2003
Due to certain circumstances that are occurring outside of Heather's Head, the inside of my head will be unavailable for blogging for a short period of time. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause my 3 or 4 regular readers and promise to come back with Full Heather Jacket as soon as possible. Please continue to check back for updated postings!
Thanks!
"The Management of Heather's Head"
Friday, June 13, 2003
TAKE ME TO THE OTHER SIDE -- NOT!
I can only post but SO many homages to my boyfriend without losing the rest of my audience, of this I am fully aware. But it's interesting to me how relaxed I am with him and how little I miss "the other side." In past relationships and dalliances, whenever I hear tales from friends who are out "running the streets" I used to get (more than) a little jealous. Look at all the fun SHE'S having, I would think. But now, I know what it's like "out there" and I know that I have it pretty darned good "in here" and I don't get jealous at all. Well, okay -- except for the writing material, but I'm willing to drum up stuff from other sources to make do! I know that if I were out there again, all I would be doing is comparing any potential man to him -- his sense of humor, his gentleness, his warmth, his teasing, and ALL the stuff that comprises the warm & fuzzy part of the relationship -- it would take a lot for anyone to be able to compete. Particularly since time and time again, S will step up to the plate and take on things that I dish out when any other man would have bailed. (This is, in fact, a two way street -- I've spent my time at the plate, believe me.) And it's not like I try to build him into this perfect man, he's NOT -- but he's absolutely perfect for me and therein lies the most important distinction.
All of this "mushiness" comes about because a dear friend of mine is going through what can only be called a whore phase (sorry darling if you're reading -- but you've said this yourself!) and is sharing her stories with a selected audience. Which is cool -- much like my own former Panel discussion groups -- but definitely gives me full insight into the extreme version of the other side. Particularly because in her current location there is a substantial misproportion of men to women -- worse than Norfolk even! And it definitely sounds like she is having the time of her life but I would not trade places with her if my life depended on it. Being in a relationship is work sometimes, yes -- but that's nothing compared to the work that goes into single life. I remember the wistful looks I got from some married folks when I was in my crazy single days, but now I know that part of that is just remembering that there was that time in your life and being SO glad that it's behind you. That you have the person that you can say "I'm feeling evil today, let's just catch up another time" and it doesn't mean the world stops spinning. That there's someone you can rely on when you have little things go wrong and know that they will be there to help fix it. And someone who is the first person you're going to tell when something really cool happens -- like you passed the test you'd been studying all week for despite your debilitating head cold. And so on.
So, that's all. I'm happy. My "stories" suffer from that sometimes, but not always. I still manage to drum up some pretty good material from time to time -- keeps some of you coming back for more and for that I'm grateful.
Off to start my day and in search of more interesting anecdotes...
HP
I can only post but SO many homages to my boyfriend without losing the rest of my audience, of this I am fully aware. But it's interesting to me how relaxed I am with him and how little I miss "the other side." In past relationships and dalliances, whenever I hear tales from friends who are out "running the streets" I used to get (more than) a little jealous. Look at all the fun SHE'S having, I would think. But now, I know what it's like "out there" and I know that I have it pretty darned good "in here" and I don't get jealous at all. Well, okay -- except for the writing material, but I'm willing to drum up stuff from other sources to make do! I know that if I were out there again, all I would be doing is comparing any potential man to him -- his sense of humor, his gentleness, his warmth, his teasing, and ALL the stuff that comprises the warm & fuzzy part of the relationship -- it would take a lot for anyone to be able to compete. Particularly since time and time again, S will step up to the plate and take on things that I dish out when any other man would have bailed. (This is, in fact, a two way street -- I've spent my time at the plate, believe me.) And it's not like I try to build him into this perfect man, he's NOT -- but he's absolutely perfect for me and therein lies the most important distinction.
All of this "mushiness" comes about because a dear friend of mine is going through what can only be called a whore phase (sorry darling if you're reading -- but you've said this yourself!) and is sharing her stories with a selected audience. Which is cool -- much like my own former Panel discussion groups -- but definitely gives me full insight into the extreme version of the other side. Particularly because in her current location there is a substantial misproportion of men to women -- worse than Norfolk even! And it definitely sounds like she is having the time of her life but I would not trade places with her if my life depended on it. Being in a relationship is work sometimes, yes -- but that's nothing compared to the work that goes into single life. I remember the wistful looks I got from some married folks when I was in my crazy single days, but now I know that part of that is just remembering that there was that time in your life and being SO glad that it's behind you. That you have the person that you can say "I'm feeling evil today, let's just catch up another time" and it doesn't mean the world stops spinning. That there's someone you can rely on when you have little things go wrong and know that they will be there to help fix it. And someone who is the first person you're going to tell when something really cool happens -- like you passed the test you'd been studying all week for despite your debilitating head cold. And so on.
So, that's all. I'm happy. My "stories" suffer from that sometimes, but not always. I still manage to drum up some pretty good material from time to time -- keeps some of you coming back for more and for that I'm grateful.
Off to start my day and in search of more interesting anecdotes...
HP
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
You like me, you really like me
Apparently I, in fact, have more than 3 readers. Two people at work today told me that they stop by and check out my blog sometimes and one of my girlfriends from SD emailed me and said that she was just perusing my blog -- hi guys! I was shocked. I am now going to have to start sprucing up my material and start making this stuff more palatable. All this time I thought I was just writing for me and my boyfriend, when he feels like dropping in -- hi honey! Who knew? NOW I know why Sally Field made that dorky acceptance speech at the Oscars that she was forever mocked for -- it IS a strange feeling getting recognition for your "stuff".
Unfortunately, the fact that I now have some suspicion that there are people reading this crap STILL doesn't enable me to drum up something interesting to chat about. (Trust, I can chat about uninteresting crap ALL day!) I WILL say that my aforementioned adoration of all things Aleve (my, what lovely alliteration Heather -- why thanks, I got it on sale) dropped at 4pm today -- the same time the 12 hour medication wore off on its 8th hour. They OWE me four hours of clear headedness! And since I got screwed out of it, I would like to request exactly when I will get it!! Preferably sometime just before an incident like January where I narrowly dodged the bullet. Think how handy THAT would have been! Quick speed-dialed call to the Aleve folks, "Hey, I could use some of that owed clear-headedness so I can ace this here breathalyzer thing -- thanks!"
That reminds me of that blonde breathalyzer joke, but not well enough for me to recount it. Just that it was dirty! Hee hee.
I'm getting kind of spacey now because I'm thinking about all the times that some big huge corporate jackass power stole time from me that I rightfully deserved to keep. I paid for 12 hours of clear-headedness, am I wrong for expecting that?? Maybe it's because my weight is above the average amount that it takes to knock someone out for 12 full hours -- I accept that, but let's print that on the box, okay? Something like: If you are a person who likes to consume large quantities of carbohydrates in single sittings -- if you take full advantage of the free samples at Baskin Robbins -- if you consider a light lunch to be having a DIET drink with your super-size Quarter Pounder with fries -- well, you might not get the full benefit of 12 hours of wellness that some of your carrot-eating, tofu-shake-chugging, aerobicizing counterparts might experience. Take another pill sooner and eat less and suck it up Buttercup!
Wow. Where did THAT come from? Have I mentioned, here in Bloggerville, that I am presently trying to quit smoking?? And while I was technically smoking daily for the last month or so it had been cut down to just one or two. Well, since I started getting sick I haven't smoked at all, so I think that some of the grouchiness we are experiencing -- those of us here in Heather's head -- is some sort of nicotine withdrawal, because we are now on day 3 and it's that 72 hour mark that apparently is the clincher. Grrrr... Those of you who are cheering me on let me just tell you that this is not the first time that I have tried to quit smoking as a result of an illness. I quit once after a REALLY bad hangover -- it took me two days to recuperate, during which time the thought of a cigarrette was repulsive and I managed to stay clean for about a month or more. But, work stress and alcohol (also used to combat work stress) put me back on Mr Butts again. The last time was after my surgery -- one would think that having a tumor growing out of one's chest would be sufficient cause to quit for good. I couldn't breathe, for pity's sake. But, once the tumor and the memory of the difficulty breathing subsided, me and Mr Butts -- we had a thiiiiing, going on...
Ok. When you start singing romantic songs about cigarrettes it's time for either your boyfriend to start doing a LITTLE bit extra to sweep you off your feet or at least time to go to bed. Guess which one is the more likely to occur??
Say g'night Mrs. Butts --
HP
Apparently I, in fact, have more than 3 readers. Two people at work today told me that they stop by and check out my blog sometimes and one of my girlfriends from SD emailed me and said that she was just perusing my blog -- hi guys! I was shocked. I am now going to have to start sprucing up my material and start making this stuff more palatable. All this time I thought I was just writing for me and my boyfriend, when he feels like dropping in -- hi honey! Who knew? NOW I know why Sally Field made that dorky acceptance speech at the Oscars that she was forever mocked for -- it IS a strange feeling getting recognition for your "stuff".
Unfortunately, the fact that I now have some suspicion that there are people reading this crap STILL doesn't enable me to drum up something interesting to chat about. (Trust, I can chat about uninteresting crap ALL day!) I WILL say that my aforementioned adoration of all things Aleve (my, what lovely alliteration Heather -- why thanks, I got it on sale) dropped at 4pm today -- the same time the 12 hour medication wore off on its 8th hour. They OWE me four hours of clear headedness! And since I got screwed out of it, I would like to request exactly when I will get it!! Preferably sometime just before an incident like January where I narrowly dodged the bullet. Think how handy THAT would have been! Quick speed-dialed call to the Aleve folks, "Hey, I could use some of that owed clear-headedness so I can ace this here breathalyzer thing -- thanks!"
That reminds me of that blonde breathalyzer joke, but not well enough for me to recount it. Just that it was dirty! Hee hee.
I'm getting kind of spacey now because I'm thinking about all the times that some big huge corporate jackass power stole time from me that I rightfully deserved to keep. I paid for 12 hours of clear-headedness, am I wrong for expecting that?? Maybe it's because my weight is above the average amount that it takes to knock someone out for 12 full hours -- I accept that, but let's print that on the box, okay? Something like: If you are a person who likes to consume large quantities of carbohydrates in single sittings -- if you take full advantage of the free samples at Baskin Robbins -- if you consider a light lunch to be having a DIET drink with your super-size Quarter Pounder with fries -- well, you might not get the full benefit of 12 hours of wellness that some of your carrot-eating, tofu-shake-chugging, aerobicizing counterparts might experience. Take another pill sooner and eat less and suck it up Buttercup!
Wow. Where did THAT come from? Have I mentioned, here in Bloggerville, that I am presently trying to quit smoking?? And while I was technically smoking daily for the last month or so it had been cut down to just one or two. Well, since I started getting sick I haven't smoked at all, so I think that some of the grouchiness we are experiencing -- those of us here in Heather's head -- is some sort of nicotine withdrawal, because we are now on day 3 and it's that 72 hour mark that apparently is the clincher. Grrrr... Those of you who are cheering me on let me just tell you that this is not the first time that I have tried to quit smoking as a result of an illness. I quit once after a REALLY bad hangover -- it took me two days to recuperate, during which time the thought of a cigarrette was repulsive and I managed to stay clean for about a month or more. But, work stress and alcohol (also used to combat work stress) put me back on Mr Butts again. The last time was after my surgery -- one would think that having a tumor growing out of one's chest would be sufficient cause to quit for good. I couldn't breathe, for pity's sake. But, once the tumor and the memory of the difficulty breathing subsided, me and Mr Butts -- we had a thiiiiing, going on...
Ok. When you start singing romantic songs about cigarrettes it's time for either your boyfriend to start doing a LITTLE bit extra to sweep you off your feet or at least time to go to bed. Guess which one is the more likely to occur??
Say g'night Mrs. Butts --
HP
Free Advertising
I'm not one to promote things without benefit to myself but Aleve Cold and Sinus is THE bomb! I just took it when I woke up this morning and I almost feel normal again and I don't have that fuzzy, stoned, my hair-is-standing-on-end cold med feeling. I know it's an illusion created by drugs but who cares? I'll be able to function today without slipping into monotone. Best yet -- if I feel okay, it keeps my whining down to its usual dull roar!!
YAY Aleve -- I'm a believer! Balever! ;-)
Off to work feeling somewhat normal...
HP
ps... Have y'all figured out that I finally learned how to use the bold and italic stuff? Now if only I could consistently get my links to work I may consider going pro and putting some pictures and stuff up!
I'm not one to promote things without benefit to myself but Aleve Cold and Sinus is THE bomb! I just took it when I woke up this morning and I almost feel normal again and I don't have that fuzzy, stoned, my hair-is-standing-on-end cold med feeling. I know it's an illusion created by drugs but who cares? I'll be able to function today without slipping into monotone. Best yet -- if I feel okay, it keeps my whining down to its usual dull roar!!
YAY Aleve -- I'm a believer! Balever! ;-)
Off to work feeling somewhat normal...
HP
ps... Have y'all figured out that I finally learned how to use the bold and italic stuff? Now if only I could consistently get my links to work I may consider going pro and putting some pictures and stuff up!
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
Last HP Standing
So, I'm getting sucked into this Last Comic Standing show on NBC. HERE is a reality show that can really pull me in. I never really got into the American Idol hype because I cannot sing. At all. I am too embarrassed most of the time to sing in the shower, except for after really good sex and then I don't care. (Sidebar: I honestly think the singing after sex thing came from Gone with the Wind where Scarlett's all humming away after she FINALLY has an orgasm with a man she won't admit she's in love with...) But, what was I saying? Right, American Idol -- so I can't indulge in fantasies watching the show and think, "If only I had waited it out with all of those other people, sleeping on the sidewalks in the cold -- only to go face to face with Simon", because I am pretty sure that Simon would go off on me for about 3 days. I'm down with that, it's cool. I have thrown spayed cats into heat with the sound of my own caterwauling.
BUT. Last Comic? C'mon baby -- that is ME! Because I can joke up some daily whines for real! Granted, most of my material is stolen, but who notices that really? It's all in the delivery! So, I can watch that stuff and start pulling out the jokes I "keep" and think "if only"... That's right, give that girl a blue ribbon in dorkiness because I have been known to write down some of my funnier one-liners and keep them. I really wish I could remember to do that when I'm around S and I say something funny because it's so rare that he thinks I am as amusing as HE is that surely that's got to be global humor at that point! Especially when all I ever seem to do most of the time is whine and complain... Nevertheless, if my weekend with HP2 proved anything it's this: I am funny... especially if you are sleep-deprived and drunk off your keester on vodka, but I would like to think that only ENHANCED my performance.
I also get this same inspiration when I watch interviews with really cool writers. I think -- Hey! I could write a book. It could be interesting. People would read it. Well, some people, it would be for a selective audience. Ok, my mom would read it and then say it would be better if I cut my hair, but at least there would be an audience damnit!
Too bad I don't get this inspired by Underwriters or I would really be climbing that corporate ladder, huh? "The panache that that Underwriter turned down my request to insure that guy's wheelbarrow just because he was going to install an engine in it and use it for racing -- that was just classy, sexy -- hot hot hot!!!"
Thanks -- I WILL be here all week. And all month. And pretty much until I get a life...
HP
So, I'm getting sucked into this Last Comic Standing show on NBC. HERE is a reality show that can really pull me in. I never really got into the American Idol hype because I cannot sing. At all. I am too embarrassed most of the time to sing in the shower, except for after really good sex and then I don't care. (Sidebar: I honestly think the singing after sex thing came from Gone with the Wind where Scarlett's all humming away after she FINALLY has an orgasm with a man she won't admit she's in love with...) But, what was I saying? Right, American Idol -- so I can't indulge in fantasies watching the show and think, "If only I had waited it out with all of those other people, sleeping on the sidewalks in the cold -- only to go face to face with Simon", because I am pretty sure that Simon would go off on me for about 3 days. I'm down with that, it's cool. I have thrown spayed cats into heat with the sound of my own caterwauling.
BUT. Last Comic? C'mon baby -- that is ME! Because I can joke up some daily whines for real! Granted, most of my material is stolen, but who notices that really? It's all in the delivery! So, I can watch that stuff and start pulling out the jokes I "keep" and think "if only"... That's right, give that girl a blue ribbon in dorkiness because I have been known to write down some of my funnier one-liners and keep them. I really wish I could remember to do that when I'm around S and I say something funny because it's so rare that he thinks I am as amusing as HE is that surely that's got to be global humor at that point! Especially when all I ever seem to do most of the time is whine and complain... Nevertheless, if my weekend with HP2 proved anything it's this: I am funny... especially if you are sleep-deprived and drunk off your keester on vodka, but I would like to think that only ENHANCED my performance.
I also get this same inspiration when I watch interviews with really cool writers. I think -- Hey! I could write a book. It could be interesting. People would read it. Well, some people, it would be for a selective audience. Ok, my mom would read it and then say it would be better if I cut my hair, but at least there would be an audience damnit!
Too bad I don't get this inspired by Underwriters or I would really be climbing that corporate ladder, huh? "The panache that that Underwriter turned down my request to insure that guy's wheelbarrow just because he was going to install an engine in it and use it for racing -- that was just classy, sexy -- hot hot hot!!!"
Thanks -- I WILL be here all week. And all month. And pretty much until I get a life...
HP
Monday, June 09, 2003
I'm back from mini-break. Ok, I got back yesterday but was too lame to write anything. My loyal audience of 3 has been broken down to two anyways, b/c S is deeply involved in flooring project.
I actually don't have as much to cmment on from weekend as I had thought that I would. Apparently, I'm really old and lame now because both nights I was out of town I was only able to stay awake until 11. I didn't even make it til Saturday Night Live! That's ridiculous. Of course, Saturday's excuse may have just a teensy amount to do with the vast quantity of Vodka we consumed. HP2 looking at bottle blurredly but with alarm saying, "Was this bottle FULL when you came here?" was probably one of the high points of my weekend. I also got some amusement out of her asking me why I LET her drink so much vodka. Of course, since I was being ordered to pour her a drink half the time, I suppose it's a fair statement that I was somewhat in control of how much she was consuming. Still, I've said it before and I'll say it again -- vodka is EVIL. I didn't get sick and no one got hurt this time, but vodka slips up on you and takes hold of you before you know what's going on. One minute you're fine, the next minute you're on the roof in your underwear spewing out profanities at the neighbors. I made the decision this weekend that from here on forward vodka will only be consumed in very small groups -- 3 or less -- so that nothing damaging comes about. I have previously made this decision with tequila shots and have yet to regret it. Actually, I'm really at a point in my seasoned, old-age drunkenness that I really prefer to stick with beer when in large groups of people. It's sad, though, when you've had enough of one thing to drink that you realize what you are better off drinking in public or not.
Well, I'm staggering off in search of coffee now and then to face my day. First meeting for Renters class -- and then I start my ascent up the ladder! And then it's THE WORLD!
HP
Friday, June 06, 2003
Slight delay in my departure time... Random thoughts: things I like about taking "mini-breaks"... I will have uncensored time with one of my closest friends -- straight up GIRL time. Get to blow the VB dust of my shoes and see new things and experience new places, even if only briefly. I get to eat high-calorie laden food guilt free because I am on vacation and it's just part of the experience. Get to stay in a hotel which is something I like to do, one of those rare indulgence things. Packing up all of my "little bottles" (as my friend K calls my toiletries) gives me the chance to finally see my bathroom counter and clean it a little bit.
Things I dislike... I'm one of those "boyfriend girls", in case you haven't figured this out. Get kinda bummed spending the weekend away from Mr. Man because that's the only time we really get to spend together. Gonna miss his cranky ass. Have to drive, which I dislike vehemently and which is why I don't take MORE mini-break vacations. I have to figure out what I want to wear for the next 2 days at least a day in advance. I usually don't know what I am going to wear until I'm wearing it. Have to bring all of my "little bottles" -- thus looking like a vain freak. Which, let's face it, I am.
Can't think of anything else because I got overwhelmed by hiccups and need to go cure them and can finally leave in about half an hour!!
On the road finally...
HP
Things I dislike... I'm one of those "boyfriend girls", in case you haven't figured this out. Get kinda bummed spending the weekend away from Mr. Man because that's the only time we really get to spend together. Gonna miss his cranky ass. Have to drive, which I dislike vehemently and which is why I don't take MORE mini-break vacations. I have to figure out what I want to wear for the next 2 days at least a day in advance. I usually don't know what I am going to wear until I'm wearing it. Have to bring all of my "little bottles" -- thus looking like a vain freak. Which, let's face it, I am.
Can't think of anything else because I got overwhelmed by hiccups and need to go cure them and can finally leave in about half an hour!!
On the road finally...
HP
I'm going on vacation this weekend -- as previously mentioned -- YAY! I'm up a dawn because I have to pack before I leave this morning and I have to leave EARLY because I am f i n a l l y closing on my refinance. YAY! But that means I have to get all my stuff ready because I am meeting S and his family for shrimp maybe before I leave town. Which means I get to see my baby before I'm gone for 2 days. YAY!
So even though I'm up with the sun, I'm in a pretty great mood -- let's see how long that lasts! Interesting Heather fact: every time I have left on any sort of vacation I always believe, somewhere deep back in the recesses of my little brain, that something will happen to me and I will die. Isn't that strange and morbid? It actually develops into a conscious thought for a brief part of every drive and then it goes away again. I think it's that thought that keeps me driving just a little bit better than I am normally wont to do while on vacation. It started back in high school, I think. I was pretty good friends with this guy who worked with me at the grocery store and he had a bit of a crush on me. (In THOSE days, if the random guy didn't have a crush on me then I had a crush on him and these crushes were ALWAYS going in the wrong direction.) Actually, he went through a period where he was a bit obsessed with me (I tried to ignore it, we were friends -- I didn't want to screw it up) and during the HEIGHT of this time was my family's then-annual weekly trip to the Outer Banks. I was driving down and that was a BIG deal, I was a little anxious about it. I shared my feelings of anxiety with my friend and he said that he had been thinking for some time that something was going to "happen" to me while I was gone, said in an ominous tone that could only mean one thing.
Hmmm, and lots of things happened that vacation but none of them resulted in my death -- but ever since then that feeling has never really gone away...
My friend, he was right to be concerned though -- spending that week apart caused me to back-burner the friendship more when I returned and allowed me to break free from his crush on me. Weird how remembering ONE thing spirals you into remembering so many others, isn't it??
Anyways -- I am like the Army today, I'll be doing more before 10am than many of y'all will do all damned day! Hope your weekend's good, I know mine will be...
love
HP
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