5

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

YAY!

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

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

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

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

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

Weight WATCH

POINTS CONSUMED: 28

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

I'm a little hungry.

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

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

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

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

fat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back to School

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm posting just to post.

I like to do that sometimes.

Sometimes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why don't YOU tell me?

Threat response?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inside Heather's Hair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heather Lee -- Super Sleuth!

Hee hee

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

Missing Person

I've lost my friend Julia Renalds.

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

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

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

Julia is gone.

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

Juuuuuulia!

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

committed

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

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

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

What the heck indeed.

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

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

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

I hate it.

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

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

Two Stories about Friday

First

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Second

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

heard on the radio this morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

as the blog turns

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

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

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

Well, that's ridiculous.

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

And I haven't had any funny events lately.

I need some funny events, damn it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xoxo

HPL

PS: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CUZZIN SUMITRA!

ONE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Big Daddy :-)

Random Pre-Coffee Thought

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanna take it? Personality test by Similarminds.com

TRUE CONFESSIONS

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or is all of this really just me??

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

Heather Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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