Shibby Shabby

This blog will self destruct in 5....4....3....2....

2008-01-17T14:52:00.000-05:00

Everything else is changing, why should my blog get left out of all the fun?

Yep, I'm trashing this blog. Sayonara sucker. Ok, by this point, no one will miss it, because let's face it, I haven't exactly been posting on it. BUT....you knew there was a but, didn't you? I am going to start an entirely new...super secret (but not private) blog. If you want to keep reading my stuff, because I will post like I used to again, then email me at theshabbster@gmail.com and then? I will bequeath to you my friends, a link that will take you to my new blog :)

But why Heather, why are you creating a new blog? Simple. Because people, this mind of mine is not meant to be bottled up. It's no fun if I can't divulge all the shameless little details of my new life to you, without wondering if uh, certain people aren't reading it, you know?

So new blog, be there or be square.

Yes.

I said it.

Be there...

or be?

Square.

2007-12-27T21:47:00.000-05:00

~~After what seemed like at least 1 year~~ After about a week without internet, I am finally back in touch with the rest of the world. I can only imagine the feeling I've had over the past week is comparable to that of Tom Hank's character from the movie "Castaway."

To make an already grueling week worse, I have been sick. For a while now. 2 doctors visits and 3 prescriptions later, I think I'm finally feeling like 'me' again. But Caleb is still sick, I think his 2nd doctors visit is coming soon. Ahhhh. I'm so glad I got to spend $100 of my Christmas money on doctor/medicine crap. Merry Christmas to me...

Otherwise, I've been trying to get my apartment straight. Heh, if it wasn't for the fact that I promised you all pictures, I don't suppose I'd be working so diligently to make it happen so soon. Just uh, keep demanding them ok? Otherwise I will slack off and surely there will be boxes of crap littering my already too tiny apartment for months to come.

Ok, on that note, I hope you all had a lovely holiday...I'm BaaAAAAaaack!

Randomness

2007-12-21T00:19:00.001-05:00

Have you ever gone to an atm, put your card in...then accidentally hit the Spanish button? It's one of those things that you never really think about...until it happens to you. Yeah, it totally happened to me today. After I put my card in, I hit the first series of buttons, went to enter my pin and instead of enter, I hit the gosh freaking darn Spanish button. There's no way to get back to English once you've gone there (and no way to get your card back unless you actually go through with one of the options). Not only did I feel like a fool because I couldn't figure out any of the 9 options in front of me, but there was a line of cars piling up, probably wondering why the hell I was just staring stupidly at the screen.

So I pushed buttons. Randomly. I wanted to make a deposit, but ultimately ended up withdrawing $20 and I'm not quite sure how. Oh well. It was funny though.

Other than that, I have been moving into my new apartment!!! I am so excited about it, just glad it is finally mine. I'll definitely post some pics when I'm done decorating...

Oh, by the way, I know I haven't been making my rounds like normal, leaving comments to all of you like a good blogger would. For this, I am sorry. I hope that you won't hold it against me forever, I don't want to lose my audience!!! (because I noticed no one is commenting much anymore...sniff sniff....if you're reading it and not commenting, don't be scurred, say something!!!)

Yaaaayyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!

2007-12-14T16:29:00.000-05:00

People. I am stoked.

My articles finally, finally got published!!! The magazine had some set backs so the new issue just came out. And can I tell you, I didn't think they were going to use all of my articles, but damned if they didn't.

Click here to see the latest issue with my 5 articles! For quick reference, here are the pages mine are on:

-pg 17 (quail ridge books)
-pg 20 (White rabbit)
-pg 21 (dancing moon)
*All three of the above are part of the cover story article
-pg 24 Green Machine
-pg 34 The Sound of Music

So yeah, that's my first stuff that's been published :-D Ok, I can acknowledge that I'm not as good as some of the writers in there, but hey I can't suck that bad if they published me, right? Anyway, just thought I'd share, enjoy!

OMG she's alive!

2007-12-09T22:09:00.001-05:00

Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and say it. I've been a bad...BAD blogger lately. But hey, what more can you expect from a homeless person?

It's actually kind of fun being homeless (of course it's only 'fun' because I know I have a home to go to in the near future). Yep, my ~~tiny little~~ trendy apartment *should* be finished next Wednesday. I got the phone call today saying that it would be yet another week. Oh well. I suppose if it's not finished by then, the novelty of being able to say I'm homeless will have worn off, my friends will be tired of my freeloading and I'll probably get really cranky and impatient. But for now, I'm kinda having fun.

Oh, yeah I don't have a car either. Well, I have one that isn't mine...my step dad let me borrow his tank to drive, for this I am SO grateful. Not only does it hold all the crap that has to accompany me wherever I go now (because I practically have my bedroom/closet/bathroom in my car) it also makes me feel a little safer. ~~Like last night, when a deer ran out in front of me...if I was in my old car, I probably would've died had I hit the deer. But this beast probably wouldn't even budge.~~ If I were to ever collide with something, his vehicle would surely protect Caleb and I and I'm sure my step dad feels better knowing that too.

Ok people, you really need to explain this logic to me. First, my friends and family tell me that I should wait at least a few months to even think about dating or getting involved with anyone. Sure that's fine, whatever...my reasons for wanting a divorce were not about wanting to date other people anyway. But recently, these same friends have decided that it has been long enough. How do I know? I'm getting *that* question..."Oh, hey, I have this single friend, don't you want to go out with him?" Uggghhhhh, weren't they just telling me not to date? Apparently I have misunderstood. They now tell me it's ok to date, just not to get caught but also not to get involved. So basically, in a nut shell, my friends are urging me to be promiscuous?? Instead of actually finding someone I really like and secretly dating them, they'd rather me have secret meaningless sex with random single guys? I mean, what else would I do secretly, with a guy, without getting involved...knit sweaters? For real, c'mon! So yeah, I'm about tired of listening to everyone and thier confusing-as[s]-shit theories on what my life should be like right now, when exactly NONE of them have been through it themselves.

You know what? I just want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it and how I want to do it. If I am forced to meet someone that I end up really liking...I don't want people telling me how I should feel or what they think is going to happen...you know? Just let me be...gah!

Ok, I'm done with that now. And I actually feel a little better. Yay.

Just another day

2007-11-23T12:11:00.000-05:00

Here I sit at Starbucks. I believe this is the earliest in the day I have ever written a blog. Despite the fact that I spent the entire last 48 hours with my son, dropping him off today was saddening. And lets not mention the triple serving of guilt that I had the pleasure of dealing with, which was just followed up by a phone call to put icing on the already heaping pile of crumbling cake. Oh yes, there's only one person right now capable of doing such a thing - my soon (but not soon enough) to be ex-husband.

So normally today I would have already been shopping for 12 hours. Yes, it would have started at midnight and would have probably ended about lunchtime. But no, this year there will be no chaotic bliss...no spending a crapton of money that I really don't have on people other than me. I blame him for this. I blame him because he didn't care when it counted and now I have to pay for it. Well actually, I can't pay for anything today, which is why I'm so freggin pissed off.

So I sit here, sipping my chai tea latte, imagining all the unique gifts I could make to give as presents, since clearly I can not afford them, even with the most hefty discounts I'll ever see again this year. I draw a blank. Oh well. I'm sure I'll figure something out. Uh huh. Right.

It would be really nice though, if I could just find a place to live. I think I have, but who's to say the landlord won't look at my rental application and laugh? Yes, I found a place, downtown (!) and I am really excited about it. There would be just enough time left to decorate it for Christmas...although it's not nearly big enough to fit even a tiny skinny tree in. This place is so small, that even I'm in my own way. But it'll work, I love the location and it's safe. Ugh, I just want to hibernate, so that I can wake up and all the puzzle pieces will have fallen into place.

At least I had a wonderful visit with my mom and her family. It was really nice to hang out with them like that and spend the night. That hasn't happened, well, since I got married. Just one more thing to add to my list of reasons why this [divorce] is such a superbly fabulous idea.

D-day

2007-11-17T21:43:00.001-05:00

Wow. Where to start. People, if you want deep dark secrets and drama, I have a double dose for you today. This shameless exposure of my life is my attempt at dealing with it, you may not think highly of me for putting it out there for anyone and everyone to read, but hey, it's my blog, if you don't like it...screw off.

On Friday, something happened. Something not good. I have been stewing over it for some time now, but didn't want it to happen this soon or in this way. Yes, I am getting a divorce. It was all me that wanted it, not him. He totally called me out, because honestly? I'm not a good actor and I am no good at being deceitful. Sure I was planning it behind everyone's back, so I could be prepared, but it was actually in the best interest of our son and to make things easier on both of us when it did happen. But after he confronted me with his observations that were 'right on target' I couldn't lie anymore. I had to tell him how I felt. And I feel like complete crap about it. But I know it's best for all of us. It's not fair for him to be with someone who doesn't love him back, it's not fair for Caleb to have to see his parents fight like mad in front of him and it's not fair for me to be unhappy for the rest of my life either. Because you only live once...we each deserve better- whether he realizes it right now or not.

This didn't happen because there was someone else, it happened because I simply can't relate to him anymore, there's absolutely nothing there, things that counseling or years of trying simply won't help. I am not the person he married, I have grown up in a lot of ways and there are a lot of things that I don't get about him anymore. When I come home sometimes, I am so miserable that my attention to Caleb is less than par. Mike and I never spend any time together, even though he says he loves me, I don't see it. We had a talk about this earlier in the year. We both felt the same resentment, loss of love, unhappiness and loneliness. So it's not like I never warned him how I felt, even before that. We said we'd work on things. I tried, but realized that I didn't care enough anymore to keep trying. And the big thing was when he actually started doing things to change, as small as they were, I still didn't care. It's just not fair to him to live with someone like that and it's not fair to me to have to pretend and it's not fair to Caleb to be caught in the middle of a screwed up relationship.

My main concern is Caleb. It hurts like hell to think that I will inevitably cause issues in his life with this, but if it weren't this, he would hate us for fighting so much, he'd end up trying to escape his own home. I don't want to be that person that cheats, I don't want to be the person that gets cheated on and I know it happens...a lot. A couple of married people I know well, have elaborate facades built, you'd think they were the happiest couples in the world, but behind closed doors, they are miserable. And it puts a huge strain on their children, whether they admit it or not. I choose not to be like that. Call me wrong, selfish, call me all the bad names in the world, but I don't think it's right, I want to prevent more severe pain...7 years, it may not seem like a lot to some, but it's long enough for me to know how I feel.

I'm leaving the house, he's keeping it, which is fine, because we all know I wanted to move anyway. [You may already be putting two and two together on some of my posts now, eh?] So many things that I am totally not prepared to do right now must happen and I have no idea how the hell I'm going to pull them off. I guess that's karma coming to kick my ass or something. But I am fine with that. I got what I wanted, I suppose I can't be too picky about how it happened, because I'm not the one that was blindsided by an 18 wheeler. Oh well, this too shall pass.

So we have both agreed to be civil. Which is great, because I don't want this to be a war. I don't want to hurt him anymore than I already have. He's a wonderful father and he deserves just as much custody as I do, we don't have anything to fight over, besides that, so I am glad we are on the same page. It seems too good to be true to think that this will happen in a civil and simple-as-possible manner, but I'm trusting him. If he tries to screw me over? It would be a huge HUGE mistake on his part, because this bitch has a lot of ammunition and won't hesitate to use it.

Let's be positive though, let's hope that this happens smoothly, for Caleb's sake. So that's my story. I don't need pity or sympathy, because I am fine. But I also realize that some of you may not think highly of me after this, which is fine and if you find it necessary to vomit your opinions all over my comments page, well just know that I return favors :-D

Two posts in one day, how lucky you are!

2007-11-10T12:09:00.001-05:00

Except this isn't really a great post. I'm going to be leaving for Michigan around 5pm today. Ughhh I love surprise trips (not). Yes, apparently it's going to be a yearly thing now, people dying on me. My uncle died last night, [obviously] he lives in Michigan, so my mom, sister, grandma and I are hitting the road tonight.

Should be interesting considering grandma has recently taken a fall and injured her back, which means a long trip like this could make it worse...permanently. So I sense that there will be a lot of stopping on the way.,,,

Anywhoo...I think we'll be stopping in West VA tonight so if anything noteworthy has happened, I shall post about it. Because otherwise I doubt we'll have internet where we're going...

Wish me luck with the drive!

In my dreams...

2007-11-09T23:48:00.000-05:00

Hi. My name's Heather. I'm a Narcoleptic.

[Audience Prompt: "Hi Heather."]

I'm also one of the 20% of Narcoleptics that are lucky enough to experience all the possible symptoms it has to offer. This includes?

-Sleep Paralysis: Yes, sometimes I wake up unable to move or speak. Feels like it lasts forever, but really it doesn't last more than a minute or two.

-Hypnogonic Hallucinations: While I am paralyzed, I'm fully aware of my surroundings, but it just so happens that my brain is still in a sleep state of sorts, therefor I 'hallucinate' while I'm conscious and paralyzed . I see and feel ominous entities in the room. Yes, they've even talked to me and touched me. Just imagine lying in bed, unable to move and seeing/hearing/feeling things that only come from dreams, right in the room with you. It's wicked and terrifying. And if I'm lucky? I can't breathe, I feel strange pressure on my chest or it feels like my throat has been smooshed. It really feels like I'm dying sometimes. I also have lucid dreams, meaning I'm aware that I am dreaming, I'm able to make choices in my dreams and I talk to myself in them. It's weird. A couple times I've actually lifted out of my body...it felt like this enormous vacuum from space was sucking me right out of bed...creepy. They do say though that this is linked to people who claim to be abducted by aliens. If they don't know any better, I can see why they would think that.

-Cataplexy: This means that I suddenly lose control of my muscle functions when I experience extreme emotions. Like being scared, if something scares the bejesus out of me, I instantly have no control over my limbs, my mouth, can't speak. It sucks. Lucky for me it doesn't happen too much. Except when I'm laughing,...if someone is tickling me in that very special place on my knee. I hate that, I feel like a freak.

-EDS (excessive daytime sleepiness): I doze off at work. A lot (keep this to yourself Amy :) I can't help it. I'm tired all the time as it is, and no matter how great I sleep I feel the sudden urge to take a nap and sometimes I really can't stop it from happening. It's actually getting worse than ever. Which scares me considering I have a small child that I am alone with a lot. Thank goodness it's not like I fall asleep while I'm eating and end up drowning in my soup.

I start dreaming practically the moment I close my eyes. And my dreams are so vivid, so real that sometimes I actually confuse reality with dreams. Sometimes I will be driving and it feels like a dream and I can't tell if it is or not. It freaks me the hell out, instant panic attack. Even pinching myself doesn't help, because I can feel things in my dreams along with being able to smell and taste things too.

I remember my first symptoms (sleep paralysis and hypnogonic hallucinations) happening when I was 5. As I get older, new things happen, it gets worse and different. The good news? I'm getting help, thanks to an awesome friend who recommended his neurologist to me. I just wish I would have known sooner. I will be a different person once I get treated. All those years...I was labeled as depressed or lazy...no wonder I fell asleep in school so much.

My point in telling you this? Well I haven't really given you any insight to the darker side of my life lately, so I figured this might be worth bringing up. But more importantly, often times things like this are mislabeled...so spreading a little awareness can't hurt, right?

Sweet dreams....

Party Pics

2007-11-03T16:21:00.000-04:00

You guys are gonna be SO proud of me! For once I am actually posting pictures. Today was Caleb's b-day party, it was great. Now I'm taking a break and wanted to post some of the pics for your viewing pleasure...

Thank goodness he was in a good mood today. We were having a lot of fun. Oh, please ignore the trash in the background. :)
Since it was a Spiderman birthday party, we decided to dress him up in his Halloween costume, which was also Spiderman. Fighting all those villains is tough, he had to take a break.

Here's another one of us being silly. Oh, I got new hair too! (as you can tell...)

Please tell me why I waited until 11:00 am this morning to make his cake? Yeah. I'm a stupid head. But, considering I did this in an hour, I don't think it's so bad...

Next year the food coloring will go in the fondant...yeah painting it wasn't much fun.

Finished result; could've been worse I suppose.

From left to right: My grandma, sister, mom and me with Caleb

He got some finger paint which was his favorite. As you can see he had fun stacking it on the box. I don't know why we bother with the cool stuff when things like putting bottles on boxes entertain him just fine...

He's just plain cute.

Ok, hope you enjoyed them! Don't make fun of my cake!

Bad parent syndrome

2007-11-02T15:35:00.001-04:00

For those of you wondering, I do not have Halloween pictures yet. My camera battery was dead, so I had to use the in-laws. And of course I have to wait on them to upload them...in other words? I should have them up by Christmas.

Ok I'm sinking back into my old ways in this post. Yes I'm going to tell you about my day and every single thing that made it suck a duck.

We'll start with Caleb's 2 yr check up. Besides the fact that he's [still] sick, his weight was good, the doc said he looked great. I figured the round of questions that she was about to ask me would go as normal and I would be on my merry way.

No such luck.

After being questioned about his diet, which consists of 24oz of milk each day, a cup or two of juice and [if I'm lucky he'll eat a good bit of] applesauce, chicken nuggets, rice and crackers, I received that look. The one that says "do you realize you are going to screw up your child if you keep letting him eat like that?" This was followed by the doc telling me he should have no more than 16 oz of milk each day, one cup of juice (which is actually considered a snack) and the rest of the time water and his food intake should rise substantially. This confused the martha fawking hell outta me because I could have swore she just told me his weight and everything looked great...so am I really doing so bad? They say that adults can't differentiate between hunger and thirst. A lot of the time we think we're hungry but we're actually thirsty. My son tells me what he wants. When he wants milk, he says milk, when he wants food, he says the food he wants. Maybe he's one up on all of us and you know what? I don't intend to change it.

Then the conversation flowed to his teeth. Yep, they're yellow. Why? My mother in law (who watches him most days while I work) constantly feeds him tea and other caffeine and sugar riddled things. But of course, being the responsible parent I am, I brush his teeth twice a day, sometimes more, because he likes it. So the doc says he really needs to be seen to make sure there's no decay, she says I should have taken him when he was one. You know what? That's really strange because [imagine me yelling and really pissed off when I say this] I called the freaking pediatric dentist and they told me they don't want to see toddlers...until they're 3!!!!! W.T.F. Either way, I've told my mother in law to stop feeding him crap and now I have to get an appointment with a pediatric dentist....which means basically that he will be 3 when I take him because they're always booked months in advance.

Next? Do you really want to hear this? Oh yes, I have a consult with a speech therapist for Caleb. Uh huh. But he says words. Sure, they aren't crystal clear, maybe he's not using a lot of two-word patterns to tell me what he wants. And yes his ability to understand what I tell him to do isn't as advanced as some. First, he doesn't have siblings. It's a well known fact that children with siblings will develop language skills much faster than those without. Second, he just started going to preschool. Twice a week. But he hasn't really been because he's been sick so much. So he doesn't have all the experience of being around and learning from other children that so many have starting around six months. I read to him, I try to teach him things, words, but apparently I'm doing something wrong. Here I thought children develop at their own pace and maybe at 2 1/2 or definitely 3 if he wasn't doing these things, then yeah, let's worry. But really? Is this necessary? I'm gonna do it anyway because they're doing it for free and because I love my son enough to put my own crap feelings aside.

It's not over people. There's a kinda upscale restaurant that the hubby's family went to tonight (18 Seaboard for you Raleigh natives). We were supposed to go and I was supposed to get a babysitter. Those plans were made before we had to switch Caleb's party to this Saturday (because we were all sick last Saturday). So to start, I have a buttload of cleaning to do to prepare for the party and I also completely 100% forgot to find a sitter. My mother in law's response? Oh bring him, it's fine. I say no, because it's not an appropriate place for a toddler, especially one that's screaming and cranky because of the shot he got today. She says Who cares if he runs everyone out, it doesn't matter. She continues to [try to] convince me that it's perfectly normal/acceptable to bring him to this place that probably doesn't even have highchairs. I hate hate hate that. I have a little class, yes even though I live in Johnston county and was raised in Rockingham. I know that you don't bring children to fancy schmancy/uber trendy restaurants. And just for you faithful readers, I'll admit that this was snore inducing. But thanks for reading it anyway.

And yes, Caleb has been screaming this high pitched, top of his lungs scream today. Hours and hours of it. I can count the number of times that I have about lost it and today would make 3. I can't stand when I feel that helpless and angry toward him. But nothing was working. Had to put him in his room, let him scream and walk away. Felt like a terrible mommy, but it was better than being mean to him.

And tomorrow is my least favorite time of year...fall back of the clocks. This means I will now be woken up at 6am each morning by Caleb banging on the door of his room. 7am is barely tolerable and I mean barely tolerable. This is gonna suck.

Sorry to be debbie downer and all, but I haven't done the whole bitchfest thing in a while, so cut me some slack dammit!

Urban mommy wannabe

2007-10-30T20:07:00.000-04:00

So I got two new assignments from the magazine. Oh yeah, I'm totally rocking their socks off. Turns out, I actually know a lotta people that know a lotta people, which means? I'm a valuable resource, and they're starting to realize that (I must be ok at writing too though:). Pretty farking cool eh? So one of them will be on new condos being built in downtown Raleigh. This excites me terribly because my next move, come hell or high water, will be to a condo downtown. So not only do I get paid for writing about this but I also get to look at potential living space.

This is where you come in. Yes, I want a condo that's just big enough for what we need, 2 bedrooms. But is it fair when you have a child, to move somewhere like that? Especially a boy? There'd be enough room for him to play in the condo itself of course. There's a pool at the place I really want to move. There's a park nearby among other things like restaurants, galleries, museums for kids and grownups, retail...everything. Granted, we wouldn't have a backyard like we do now. But honestly we never go in ours because our neighbor found a snake (our house backs up to the woods) and we don't want Caleb to be exposed the more evil things nature has to offer. But I realize when he gets a little older, he's gonna want to go out and play. This I'm not so sure about. Has anyone had experience with this sort of living? I'm sure kids have grown up in city settings, but what did the parents do to give them that outdoor time they need, that little bit of freedom running around with their friends?

I honestly think there's pro's too. I know we'd get out more. Every night consists of us sitting inside of our house. If we lived downtown, I know I'd be out all the time doing something with Caleb or alone. Being able to walk everywhere would be amazing. We'd save on gas, we'd get more exercise, we'd actually socialize with people. We'd be making a damn good investment if we bought early next year when the place I like is pre-selling (because it's always cheaper if you buy before construction is complete). It's convenient. I don't need space, I don't want a lot of space. I want a freaking condo downtown.

I'm so tired of suburbia. It's boring. The people suck, it's not like Wisteria Lane where everyone knows everyone. All the things that appealed to me originally about living in a suburban neighborhood I don't even use or enjoy. I'm over it. So if you have any experience with city living or know anyone who has, let me know what they liked and disliked about it. Because I want to feel good about this move.

Don't turn back your clocks...who's with me?!

2007-10-29T20:20:00.001-04:00

I would officially like to protest the 'fall back' that we will be experiencing in my opinion wayyy too soon. Ever is way to soon for me. I see no good reason for it.

Just because farmers need an extra hour or two doesn't really rate on my scale of things I give a shit about. People all over the world have to wake up at hours of the day and night that they do not like, why should farmers be treated any differently? There's always going to be the same amount of day and the same amount of night no matter what our clocks say. So why do we need to accommodate their schedules? And if you're going to bring up the children waiting for buses, well I seem to remember this summer it was light out when the kids on my street were waiting. It could work people, I'm telling you.

Being the eco-conscious nation that we are, if we had permanent longer days, meaning it gets dark at the earliest 7pm, it would help conserve energy. People wouldn't be using as much electricity because by the time they have to turn on their lights, it's nearly time for bed. And it would also lead to people going out more, which means that they wouldn't be using as much electricity in their homes. Which can segway into my next thought. Depression. How many of you will admit that when it gets dark on your way home from work that you are really bummed and unmotivated? I sure will. It sucks. I see no reason for it. Especially during winter. Summer it would be more tolerable because it's still warm at night. But winter? It's too dang cold to be outside at night. So many people end up sitting inside their homes rotting away in front of the TV. It's why winter has the best shows. Seriously.

I really want to form some sort of group to protest the fall back. It either needs to be stopped or they need to reform their daylight savings system. Am I out on a limb all by myself here? Does anyone else think this sucks? Or do I just complain too damn much?

Don't answer that last question.

When it rains it pours...

2007-10-27T21:34:00.000-04:00

This weekend S-U-C-K-E-D. Really really really bad. And what's worse? It's not even over!
Where to start...

First, my hubby got a speeding ticket on his way to work Thursday. Pissed him off of course. He finally gets to the office (he works with his mom, dad and brother) and his dad is having a heart attack. 5 calls later 911 finally picks up their phone and dispatches an ambulance. His dad was fairly stable after arriving to the hospital, but they knew they were going to do an angioplasty soon. Later Thursday night after band practice, I get home and go to bed. Around 3am, I wake up and throw up. This happens at least 15 more times before I can go to the urgent care at 8am. When I went in, I made them give me a room immediately, because I could barely stand and knew I was seconds away from puking again. I must have looked like something straight out of a horror movie, because the nurses looked like they either wanted to run or call the police on me. Lucky for me though, they honored my request and an hour or two later, I find out I either have this terrible virus going around or I have the early stages of appendicitis. Either way, the doc sends me home with a shot in the ass and some lovely medicine to take that I shall not describe. Moments later, I find out that hubby's brother has decided to copy me and hug the toilet for the remainder of the day. It made me feel better to hear that because if he's sick too then maybe I don't have appendicitis!

But then we get worse news. Mike's dad is also sick with the same symptoms, they can not operate. They have to wait until he's better which could take days and could compromise his already bad condition. So needless to say that leaves Saturday, the day of my precious little boy's party: CANCELLED.

At least he's not old enough to know any better. But I tell you it sucks. It sucks that we all got sick, it sucks that I busted my ass to prepare when hey, I could have had another week! Leave it to me to think selfish thoughts. I'm fun like that.

I really hope that no one else gets this crap that I have. I swear, I have never felt worse in my entire life. Ever. OK, enough of this woe is me crap, I'm gonna go drink my ginger ale and hopefully not throw it up. Wish me luck with that.

Phantasmagorical!!!

2007-10-23T20:59:00.000-04:00

I have been so ridiculously busy with trying to make my home acceptable for visitors that recently, going to work has become relaxing. And it's because of Caleb's birthday party coming up.

You see, it all starts with my lack of that host gene that so many come equipped with. Honestly, I would rather spend my money on clothes, shoes, handbags...over spending money on the cute throw pillows at pier one, the awesome bamboo blinds that I keep promising myself I'm going to get, or the number of awesome things at Crate and Barrel that could make my kitchen a delightful place to prepare and serve food. This creates a fairly uninviting, unloved home with not much appeal to visitors. The homes of my friends and family all come equipped with inviting decor and all the basic kitchenware one would need to serve more than 2 people. Mine? Not so much. I don't even have paint on my walls. Why bother with the rest?

So normally, Caleb's birthday party would be held at the in laws. They have a have a wonderful, huge, nicely decorated, very accommodating, stocked with everything you could need and more, convenient-home that has always been the default location for occasions such as this. But this year, I said it's time for me to grow up, it's time for me to actually be responsible enough to have people over to my house and not be embarrassed while doing it.

Which means I have been painting my ass off the past week. I have painted the whole interior of my house. Which also means I have redecorated. It's like trading spaces came to my house and threw up in it. And there's so much more to do! Trim paint, I've committed to making my own pillows (why?!) I have an enormous blank canvas that's sitting in it's newly designated spot on my wall...waiting to be painted with God knows what. I have two outdoor chairs to sand and refinish, luckily I got vegetation for my front landscaping and got that knocked out...I still have a big pile of crap to go through in Mike's garage, I have a crapton of laundry to do, carpets need shampooing...Make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!!!

And of course the day of the actual party will be no breeze. I have decided to make an awesome cake. It's a Spider Man theme, so I will be doing one of those kinda crazy designs with fondant (which I have never used) so it should be interesting. Yeah, I tried to actually you know, purchase a spider man cake from someone, I tried desperately to find someone to make the dang thing for me, but apparently you have to have a license to do those. And even the nicest places around here don't have the license to do it. So thank goodness the grocery store is minutes away, worst case I can stick that nifty little spidy candle right into a lovely sheet cake if I end up being Betty Crock-o-shitter. Not only that, but the decorations, the gift wrapping, the actual cooking of food...and *gasp* socializing...it's sure to be fun (I say with clenched teeth).

I have no clue why I have gone on this bizarre mission for a birthday party. I feel like I had a pretty good reason, but I lost sight of it. Now I'm just busting my tail. The end result will be worth it I am sure! Plus, the little guy is definitely worth it. Wish me luck with this party. I need every ounce of energy that I can muster to finish preparing for it.

I'll have to post pictures of the cake too. Please, make me, even if it turns out like hell.

Someone thinks I'm on my way to Hell.

2007-10-16T22:40:00.000-04:00

Whoo hoo! I have received my very first anonymous comment. You know you've made it to blogging stardom when people start leaving anonymous comments. It was left on my post "Affirmation" which was about that oracle card I drew twice in one day, here it is:

Anonymous said...
don't be surprised. the occult works that way with small starts and draws you in because it is surprisingly close. but then it traps you and becomes addictive and draws us away from God. people don't try Wicca cause it scares them, they try it cause it seems... natural. but its not right.

You know, they say the same thing about sex and alcohol...

Anyway Mr. or Mrs. Anon, I wish to tell you something un-anonymously. (Durh) I'm a big girl, I can handle when someone doesn't agree with my opinion or choices, so don't be afraid to post as yourself. And I appreciate your concern, but do you really think I'm stupid enough to get caught up in some sacrilegious cult where I end up killing myself or sacrificing small children? Nuh uh. By the way, the true definition of Occult is to become hidden; knowledge of secret or supernatural powers. So let me ask you something. In early Christian history, Christians were persecuted for well, being Christians. The Jews were the first to persecute, the Romans were next. Boy with all that killing going on, one might consider keeping their religious beliefs a secret. So is it not possible that in fact Christianity was an occult religion of early history? I mean it wasn't like everyone accepted it with open arms and open minds at first, they too probably thought of it much like you think of Wicca.

And why pray tell would it bother you so badly if I did try Wicca? The thing that bothers me most about Christians is that many have no tolerance for anyone else's religious preferences. Being raised a Christian, I was taught that non-Christian people were 'misguided' but not sinners in any different way than ourselves. If you're a true Christian, you leave it to God to judge who's right and wrong in the end, you don't judge and throw out stereotypes and call people wrong. It might surprise you that these people who prefer to seek reverence through Oracle cards, Wicca, Astrology, Tarot...they don't like being put under the Occult category. Most of them actually despise it and if you take the time to educate yourself on these things, what they do is no different than what you do. They just have different methods of connecting with God (their God, your God, the God), they have a deeper spiritual connection with God than many Christians could ever hope. So please, next time you wish to target them as something negative, think again. Have an open mind and know that when I find inspiration through a dang card it's not a bad thing. It's just a card after all right?

Happy Nice Nice

2007-10-06T23:10:00.000-04:00

Being nice has never come naturally to me. Normally, if I do something considered 'nice' it's out of pure obligation (which isn't really nice if you think about it). But recently, I've become a really nice person. As much as I hate believing it, I am. It could be a result of all the positive changes that have happened in my life, or maybe I have a brain tumor that's altering my personality.

For instance, last week, on my way into Sam's club after passing by a parking lot full of carts, I walked through the doors, only to find one lonely cart in the entrance. So yes, I grabbed it. But as soon as I turned around to go in the store, there was an elderly man hobbling in. He then stopped, just stood there, blocking the incoming traffic, desperately looking around for any sign of a shopping cart. I can honestly say that I didn't even think twice before walking in that store with my cart, because hey, finders keepers, right? Ha. I'm just kidding. Of course I happily handed over my cart to the old guy and I really think it made his day. I have never been so happy to walk my butt all the way back out to a parking lot to get a cart. I don't think the people coming in behind him were so thrilled though...

A week ago, as you know, my BFF had her baby. I decided it would be nice to bake some brownies to take to the hospital. I put on a hand decorated (by me) cardboard cake platter, wrapped in cellophane and finished with a baby-girl pink bow. I figured since everyone would be anxiously sitting in the waiting area, that they might enjoy NOT having to go to the vending machine every 30 minutes for something to munch on. The family was touched by my thoughtfulness and our mutual friends were slightly annoyed because they wished they would've thought of doing something like that themselves. It wasn't typical behavior for me, I have to admit, because I don't even cook brownies for my own family most of the time. This was followed up by two visits to my friend's home with candy, muffins and savory wings and mozzarella sticks. I figure food is the only acceptable way to overstay your welcome.

Today, I was shopping at Macy's, which might it be known, is my new most favourite store! While rummaging through the fantastic silky, shiny dresses, a girl about my age started cussing at rack of dresses. Thank goodness Caleb was asleep in his stroller, I don't think I could have covered his ears soon enough! Truth be told, I think she might have offended the dress too. She was obviously pissed because every dress she found interesting, was missing her particular size. So (uncharacteristically) I sympathetically blurted out that I totally knew what she was going through, that I have been dealing with the same annoyance all day. She looked at me, laughed and let out a little of her frustrations on my humoring ear. She thanked me for letting her vent and I wished her better luck on the rest of her shopping. I don't know what it is about having a real or delightful conversation with a stranger, but it makes me so happy I could cry. Really, it's strange. I actually tear up a little when this happens. Isn't that bizarre?

And even the clueless guy at party city who kept grabbing the wrong Halloween costume for Caleb did not piss me off. Normally, it wouldn't have gotten to him making the same mistake 5 times, before I mouthed to him like he was a deaf person, sarcastically elaborating each syllable of what I wanted, with hand motions, stupid expression and all. But today, I laughed it off and decided maybe I should go with the costume he could find in Caleb's size. So Caleb will be spider man for Halloween this year.

On a brighter note...

2007-10-05T21:56:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I talked to my Dad today, he didn't get mad at me. I am pretty sure he somehow knew...hmmm, do I have spies? Yeah, he called me 4 times today before I got the guts to answer. It went surprisingly well, but I didn't expect the break-down on my end. Yeah, I ended up sobbing like a 4 year old before I even got a word out of my mouth. But we got it squared away, hopefully I can put all those old feelings to rest now.

Anyway, onto happier things. I don't know about you, but all the TV shows coming on right now are totally making me lazy. There's ~~definitely 17~~ over 10 shows that have taken over my life. Sure, they get DVR'd and I can watch them at my own convenience, but still, trying to catch up on all of them is really time consuming. But what's the harm? What else on earth could I be doing with that extra time? Heh, well, don't answer that. So what if I actually found a new hobby/potential career in my last primetime hiatus? I'm sure the lack of anything good to watch on TV had little to do with that...

Oh! I received an award! Well, I got it about a week ago, from Shari (thanks!!!) Here's what the creator of this award has to say about passing it on: The thing that I love most about blogging is that I learn so much about a person just by reading their blog. I have met MANY wonderful people with wonderful stories to tell, and I am grateful every day for each person that I have the pleasure of crossing paths in life with. I wanted to create something special for the top ten people who have inspired me through their blogging; the stories they tell, and the lives that they lead with grace and dignity. I visit their blogs for inspiration and encouragement. Please grab your badge and wear it(with a smile) proudly, and pass it on because you inspire and encourage me, thank you. So, now it is my turn to pass it on.

So I am not going to pick 10, I'll pick, say half. Five people who are worthy of this award who also have not been given it yet (that I can tell). All of these people leave me great advice and I absolutely enjoy reading their blogs.

1. Jill
2. Edie
3. Happy Working Mom
4. Kellie
5. Beccy

Cheers!

The very biggest struggle of my entire life

2007-10-03T20:40:00.000-04:00

As you all know, I have been doing some soul searching. But today it dawned on me where part of my failure to find peace within my soul began.

My parents got divorced when I was little, I think when I was around 3 years old. The actual divorce has never ever bothered me, I would much rather my parents be happy like they are now, than be together and miserable. So that's all fine and well.

My father lives in Michigan, always has. I moved to NC with my mom when they split. My dad then remarried and is still married to my step mother, she had two children from a previous marriage who moved in with my dad and her. Then my dad and step mom had a child together. All 5 of them lived together and only once did I ever live with them, my 10th grade year in high school. Other than that, I only went up there once a year to visit for a few weeks.

You know, I was always told that I would be treated the same, that they loved me just as much and that I was no less special than my siblings who got to live with them. And I actually believed it until the past couple years. Maybe I have grown up a little bit more or maybe I am more aware or willing to realize all the ways I am actually treated differently.

For instance, when I had Caleb, my Michigan family, my dad, was not there when I was in the hospital or when I got home. They came a couple weeks later. Part of me understood that if they were going to come visit, yes they probably wanted to spend more quality time and not waste it sharing time with all the excited family and friends that would inevitably fill my home once we got back with the baby. But the more I think about it, that's a pretty special moment in one's life to not have their dad around, if he is able. And he was able. I still don't know if that was ok or not.

The only time my dad and step mom have come down to visit us are for very special occasions, which I can count on one hand. Getting married, to see Caleb for the first time and I think it was for Caleb's birthday that they came down. So my sister moved to Virginia from Michigan recently. You can imagine how hurt I must have been when a visit was made to her, simply because she found a townhome to rent. People, I have paid mortgages for 2 houses and rented at least 3. Do you think anyone ever came down to visit me just because of that? Hell no. Never.

And then there are the little things. When I was visiting this summer, my step mom had a magazine from Dillards or somewhere like that, laying on the kitchen table. My step sister (who was up visiting from her recent move to Virginia) and I were standing around the table and my step mom says, "hey why don't you look through that catalog and pick out some stuff you want for your place." Both mine and my sisters hands went to grab. Then my step mom looks at me and says, "Oh, well...yeah, you can look through there too" and started mumbling something about since my sister moved into her new place that's why she told her to look...anyway, again one more thing that they instantly want to do for them, that they never thought of doing for me. There are a ton of things that they have given or done for my siblings, little things, that I miss out on. But yet, I am treated "equally" which normally comes in the form of a [quick and easy] check at Christmas or on a birthday.

My dad promised me that things would be different with Caleb, than it was with he and I. But still, I have yet to see anything different. He takes frequent hunting trips, which are a week or longer, but won't stay for more than a weekend with us when they come to visit. Of course when we go up there, we stay for a week, which is all we can afford to do, but we do what we can. Why does it have to be this way? Aren't the parents supposed to be the more stable, financially able ones, the ones that come visit their children more often and longer than their children visit them? Isn't that how it's supposed to work? I have a nice guest room, I have food, toilet, grandson...what else do I have to do?!? Have they forgotten how hard it is to travel with a child?!

I know they don't do most of it on purpose, but that's what makes it hurt so bad. I would be able to accept it better if it were on purpose. I feel like I constantly owe them something, like I am not trying hard enough, maybe if I am nicer or sweeter, they will love me more. But it is so draining. I also feel so resentful because they really don't care about me as much, and if they don't, how could anyone else who isn't even my family really truly care about me? If anyone does anything nice for me, I instantly assume they felt obligated to, because that's the only time I ever get attention from my Michigan family-when they're obligated to (for a special occasion or something). It's why I have trust issues, it's partly why I feel bad about myself and have low self esteem issues. And I am glad I finally pinpointed it, and displayed it here, for the world to see. I feel a bit better. It's the only thing that I can cry over just by thinking about it, but I actually don't feel like crying over it for once.

Now I would like to tell my father all of this. I really do love him and I know he loves me, but we need to stop calling our relationship something that it's not. If we can at least openly accept it for what it is, then I think the pressure will be off, there won't be as many expectations and it won't hurt so much.

Please, no pity party. I wanted to write about this, because I don't want to continue being consumed by it. And where better to get advice, validation for my feelings and maybe even a little smack in the forehead, than here?

Paychecks, germs and pictures.

2007-10-02T21:26:00.001-04:00

I made what I can only assume is a huge no-no in the journalism world. You see, my first assignment was for 250 words on green living, they asked me to come up with 5 eco-friendly items for your home (like bamboo floors), why they are better than normal products, how much the cost and where they could be found. Well when you add in the intro, plus the description for 5 items and quoting a couple sources (which is another thing they wanted) it's pretty damn hard to keep it at 250 words. So I ended up at like 279 words, after hours of trying to shorten it. So I sent it to my editor and told her that I simply could not take away any part of the article and still give her what she wanted and I would leave it up to her to take out what she thought was the least necessary. Yeah. I really don't think I'm the one who should be telling the editor what to do.

I didn't hear back on it. I was sure that I would be ixnayed shortly after. But today, I got my very first check from them which means they must be publishing the article because you don't get paid unless it gets printed. So that's kind of awesome. Even if it's not much money, my words are being put in a magazine! I just wonder if they are doing it out of pity...

I had an epiphany today. Sort of. Actually it was a random genius thought. Being careful is way over-rated. I am not a health conscious person for the most part. I drink soda- diet coke which is riddled with strange chemicals, un-natural sweetener and caffeine. I eat chocolate and any junk food I can get my grubby little hands on. I smoke. I don't believe that you have to use bleach on your counter tops after handling raw meat and I certainly don't believe that anti-bacterial really helps us avoid disease or illness. I actually think it makes us more prone to it. I think that not exposing yourself to enough germs makes you weaker in fighting them.

My point is that there are a good hand full of super careful people that I know who are constantly sick, whether it be sniffles, or something more serious...they are always sick. And they are the ones that drink mainly water, use anti-bacterial religiously and insist on wiping the color off of their counters whenever they handle raw meat. They are the ones who eat healthier than I do, they don't smoke and they pop medicine at the first tingle of their nose. So why, when they are so good, do they get so sick? Like I said, being careful is over-rated. I am all about some germs and junk food.

Ok, that was quite random. Maybe even slightly weird. Sorry. But oh well. Anyway, I have decided for once, to post some pictures! This is from going to see John Edwards yesterday...

Here's a close up. The hair, it's so perfectly feathered. Mesmerizing...

It's kind of crazy, he's just here on some random person's back deck speaking to us. Sorry for the terrible pics, I was a timid picture taker...I don't know why I felt like 'one of those people' everytime I whipped out my camera...
Here's my little sunshine face. Time for a haircut in this pic!
This is the result of feeding him yogurt.
His new thing whenever I try to take pictures is to give me this really strange stare, as you can see here.

Ok, see, I'm getting better about posting! Granted, this wasn't my most marvelous post yet, but I felt the need to rush because my dang computer will not charge. I have no idea why either. Can't wait to call the customer support desk tomorrow!

[title on vacation]

2007-10-01T21:58:00.000-04:00

Everyone, H-E-L-P M.E.

Please.

After two years of promising myself that I would absolutely not, under any circumstances, have another baby until I was 30 or until Caleb got in Kindergarten, a force greater than I can manage has taken over. I am ill. I have the baby-itis. All it took was seeing my best friend's, fresh out of the womb, adorable little baby girl last night, to make me get hit by the baby bus. I swear to you less than a millisecond after I held that tiny little bundled up child, I instantly missed it. I want it again. I want another child. And of course, I had to go back and torture myself again tonight. Yes, I went back to visit and held Piper, that's her name, and it simply made this sworn off urge suddenly irresistible and irreversible. But I can not have a baby right now! Am I crazy?! Heather, you can not afford it. And that's the only reason it's not a good idea. Really. I'm not helping myself. Someone, please go back to the hospital for me and find out which toilet my brain was flushed down. I need someone to bring me back to earth.

That's not the only thing exciting that happened in the past 24 hours. Today I did something I have never had the chance or the desire to do. I went to see a political figure speak, live in person. Yes, today I went to see John Edwards.

Ooh, I can just FEEL the eyes rolling. And yes, I can predict the half-assed grunts/moans/chuckles that are inevitably coming out of you republicans. Before you swear me off forever, let it be known that I am not sold on Edwards. But the guy has charisma. He's got that certain quality that makes people enjoy listening to him, even if they don't like what he's saying. I think it's the hair.

Overall, I do like what he says. But, as someone else confessed, he does lean pretty far left, even for my tastes. But it got me thinking. How often do you vote for someone because you like what they are about, because it fits what you are looking for more perfectly than everyone else? Probably most of the time, right? Now think about this. How often do presidents actually come close to achieving these goals and promises that they set out for? Pretty close to never and hell freezing over.

I am going to make a point, I promise. So humor me here. Let's say you have two fund raisers being held in different locations. They are both for the same cause and they both have the same number of attendees. But one place has a goal of $5,000 and the other place has a goal of $20,000. It's a pretty drastic difference, right? Now let me ask you, who do you think will make more money? Of course the place aiming for an outrageous amount will, because people feel like it's unattainable, so they will be inclined to donate more. And the place that was only aiming for $5,000? Totally sold themselves short.

But what does this mean Heather? I think I am trying to say, maybe it's time for a change, maybe we should be aiming higher or farther away from what we believe in order to get to the middle of what we want. Maybe we should consider NOT voting for someone just because they have the most mainstream appeal and popularity. If they are promising to address these issues in the most realistic way, did it ever occur to you that the chances of it actually happening would be less than if they overshot? These guys under promise in hopes of over delivering. They are popular because they seem more level headed, more believable and more realistic. But I ask you, where has that gotten us?

I'm not saying I want to vote for Edwards. But I am coming around to the idea that maybe more extreme might not be such a bad thing. And if you've ever caught yourself thinking "there's no way that guy could ever solve all those problems" then that's my point. Because even if they don't solve all the problems, their 'failure' may end up falling right around the other candidates actual goal, maybe even exceeding it a little. So why are we so afraid to vote for people like Edwards?

Maybe it's a simple-minded way to think, but it makes sense to me. Just promise me that you'll stop throwing potato chips at my picture...you're making my hair look greasy!

Affirmation

2007-09-22T22:47:00.000-04:00

Something strangely interesting happened to me today. I ended up going to this independent book store for an article I am writing that wasn't even on my list of stores to go to. I was trying to find a third store, and went to two book stores that had closed down before I literally stumbled upon this one. So I go in, and it's this new age, spiritual, metaphysical book store. After talking with the guy, he shows me around the store and stops at the shelf with their Oracle cards on them. (Oracle cards are meant to give you daily inspiration or guidance) They have demo packs, so he randomly picks one of the many different packs of the shelf. He shuffles them, fans them out face down and tells me to pick one. So I pick it. He tells me that this card represents something about my life right now. How I feel, what I am doing, it relates to my position in life. And I turned over the card...

But before I tell you what it said, something even more disturbingly strange happened to me just seconds ago. In order to tell you what the card said, I was trying to look up a site that might have descriptions of all the cards that were in that particular deck (because I forgot the exact wording). I found this one site that offered card readings online, with that exact deck...only online. So I figure what they heck, I will just keep picking one until the card I picked earlier today pops up. It prompts me to begin by choosing a card. I select my first card...

I kid you not...It was the SAME. EXACT card I picked earlier today. My first pick. How weird is that?! This card is so similar to what I was wrote last night in my blog that it is making me scared. And the fact that I picked it twice-once in person, once electronically...baffles my effing mind. Here's my card of the day. Literally.

Francesca
"What do you desire right now? Visualize it, and it will come about. Negativity will block your progress."Additional Message: "You have been asking God and the angels, 'What is next for me?' Yet, we have been waiting for you to make that decision for yourself! That is why you have felt stuck lately. This impasse occurs because you are afraid of making a 'wrong' decision. We can help you to decide, but ultimately, the next chapter of your life is up to you. This is a period of your life that is unscripted.""Your desires are like a painting that you create upon the canvas of your life. Like an artist, you must decide what the theme, background, and foreground will be within your picture. Take some time out to meditate, pray upon, and contemplate this important decision. Be creative, and maintain standards for yourself. But remember: If you don't make a decision, that's the same thing as deciding that everything shall remain the same."

CRAZY!!!!!!!! That doesn't just happen.

The evolution of me

2007-09-21T21:14:00.000-04:00

Whoo hoo! I'm still here! Aren't you absolutely THRILLED?! Sorry for my absence, I have been working during the times I normally blog now, because I got another assignment. And frankly, it's a bit more time consuming than I imagined, hence the fact that I haven't been on here.

But anyway. You know, I have been pondering something lately. Self enlightenment. You see, there is this person that I fear I will become. And we all have them hiding inside of us, like the devil sitting on our shoulder, waiting for that second of self doubt to set in, so he can whisper dark nothings in our ear and make us take a wrong turn. I am willing to wager my apple turnover, that at least a couple of you know what I am talking about. We get so consumed with trying to NOT to become something that we forget who we want to become or don't ever give ourselves the chance to realize it in the first place.

One of my coworkers is reading a book right now,(I forget the name, sorry I suck) that explains the key to your own personal success lies within yourself, it says that if you can picture yourself being the successful person you've always wanted to be, then you will get there. It makes sense. Because so many of us worry to death that we will turn out like a bum parent, a stray sibling, a lost friend...that every time you do something that the person you are worried about becoming would do, you slip into that self doubt, you can see yourself becoming them and it scares you. So you end up spending all this time worrying about becoming this person you fear, you see yourself being there and you think it will scare you enough to work harder not to become that way, but in all actuality, you are the one bringing yourself closer to it-not them.

Positive thinking sounds cliche, but I think there's something to it. You know if there is a new pair of shoes that you absolutely MUST have, even if they do cost more than 2 tanks of gas, you find a way to get them. If it means you have to take something back that you recently bought that's not near as special as those shoes, having a yard sale, actually saving money, you find a way to get them, because you want them, you can picture how cutie they will look with your jeans. When we get sick, we don't die. We take medicine, because we know we will get better, because we want to get better. We picture ourselves being healthy again, so we make sure we do what we have to do to get there. Even vacations are a good example. You picture yourself lying on a sandy, sun soaked, breezy beach and the mere thought of it makes you find a way to plan for it. Because you know it will make you happy, so you make it happen.

People, if we can find a way to get the smaller things in life that we really want, why is it so hard to get the bigger things that we really want too? It works the same way. If you will it, it WILL happen. All you have to do is try. If one thing doesn't work, try another. If you think negative about yourself, negative things will happen. If you think positive about yourself, good things will happen. One bumpy dirt road might lead to a dozen glorious paved highways, all you have to do is suck it up and get your car dirty.

My big fear? That I will become white trash. That I will always, always struggle with money, have an unpleasant home life, my son will wish for different parents, get caught up with bad influences and all because I of me. But that's going away. Just writing it here right now brings me back to that point of fear and I swear, I am making an honest effort to make it the last time that happens. My future reality WILL be owning a mac daddy house, having a career in writing, maybe even having my own magazine, who knows, but it will be something from my heart. My son will grow up to be a respectable boy, then man, who respects his parents and has good friends. My husband and I will be happy. It's going to work. Because I am going to find a way to make it work.

Life is too effing short not to set your soul free. If you were on your death bed, literally, lying on a stretcher because you just got into a car wreck, knowing you were going to die within minutes, would you not curse yourself for holding back, for not doing all the things you could have done, wishing for just one more chance to do it all over again? If God gave you a miracle and let you live, wouldn't you say, I am so enjoying life after this, because all that shit I used to worry about really does not matter? If you look at the world from above, it's just people, driving, walking, working, sleeping. And money? It's just paper. Fucking paper rules our lives. We are so intimidated by people and paper that we lose sight of what's in our hearts and what we really want.

So I will ask you to do this. Let yourself dream. It's ok. I know it's hard and it's silly. What do you really want to be doing right now and 5 years from now? Now, I know this sounds even sillier, but instead of a dream, make it a reality. Make it something that you know is going to happen. Like a vacation. You know it will happen and because you will find a way to make it there. So screw dreams. They are for people who wish and end up with a pile of shit in their hands. Stop dreaming and start living.

I will be tracking my evolution here. I promise I will try to limit my 'motivational speaker' posts, because I know they are difficult to stomach. But mark my words bitches, I am doing this!!!

The big e-mail.

2007-09-11T20:28:00.000-04:00

I can imagine myself standing on a stage with 4 extravagantly dressed women, fighting for the title of Miss America, my fate depending on one single question. A judge looks at me, bending toward the microphone and asks, "What was the one thing that happened in your life, the defining moment that changed it forever?" Then suddenly, my forced smile quickly fades away and I nervously stare into the crowd of hopeful people. The beam of light that has illuminated over me becomes hot. Sweat beads pop out of my nose, glistening under the light, surely making my close up somewhat unattractive. My mind goes blank and for fear of saying anything too cliche' I can't muster up a single decent thought. I would say becoming a mother has been my defining moment, but who wouldn't say that? I know they are looking for something deeper, yet, up to this very day, there is nothing that I can think of. So I stand there, dumbfounded and speechless, the audience shifts because there is a sudden realization, an uncomfortable silence from the absence of sound. I force open my mouth, as if I am about to speak, knowing it's the only way to start the chain of events leading to an actual word. I sense the audience leaning forward slightly, hoping that something will come out, because the embarrassment of it all is too painful to endure any longer.

And then it all stops. My pity fest of a daydream has been rudely interrupted by the chime of my computer which is telling me to look at my email. Sitting at my desk at work, I can only hope it's the idiot attorney I had to deal with recently, telling me he screwed something else up. I reluctantly open up outlook and there it sits. An email that I wasn't expecting today, or ever really. It's from the magazine I sent my resume to. I stare at it, too scared to open it. No one else was in the room with me, and if they were, I would be too embarrassed to let them be the first to read my certain failure. After nearly forever of a minute, I decide to hover my mouse over the message, taking in a huge breath and letting it out in the form of a sigh while I curse at myself for being so silly. Click. It opens. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Much like my daydream, the chain of events leading to me fumbling out any coherent sentence explaining my defining moment was about to happen, or not. Maybe it wouldn't seem like a big deal to some, but for me, if I got this one little chance, it would change my life plans and so much more. I would have an answer to that question, and more importantly, I would have the chance to end world hunger.

People, without this blog, I never would have realized my hidden talent, and you can thank (or kill) Amy for that, because she inspired me to come here. And my mom telling me I should pursue a career in journalism put an actual name to the job I always never knew I wanted, but most definitely realized was my calling. And of course my personal chain of events goes way back, but mostly started with my move to Raleigh. If I would have never worked at that bar I didn't want to work at, where I ended up meeting my husband, who introduced me to the guy I currently work for, who hired Amy's husband which is how I met Amy, I wouldn't be able to enjoy this particularly agonizing moment. Or torture you with holding out on what happened either.

I opened my eyes. I looked at the whole email without reading a single line to find any words resembling rejection. There was no "sorry" or "not interested" or "are you insane" that jumped out at me, so I decided to actually read it.

I suppose it was the part about having an assignment for me in November that made me smile. Or maybe the fact that I realized I am not such an idiot after all. Yes, people, they are giving me a chance! There is a but. It's a small one though. She told me that since they are a brand new magazine, their budget is tight. Plus, I contacted them well over a month after they put out their ad, so they have probably found all the writers they were looking for. But she made me an offer, telling me how much she'd pay per word and such. And then told me the part about having an assignment for me in November. Even though the money I would make off one assignment would only pay for a tank of gas in my car at this point, it's a damn good start to get experience with an actual magazine, to get paid for it and to have the possibility for greater opportunities in the future. Because I am certain someone will flake out give me the chance to move up a little.

This is just the beginning of something great. I can feel it in my bones and there is nothing I would be happier doing in my life than this. I will make a career out of this one day. But for now, I am going to get as much of my work published at as many places as I can find. Amazing. *sigh* I am stoked.

I did it...

2007-09-11T00:05:00.001-04:00

I can't believe I did it. I actually applied for that freelance journalism job with the magazine I've been talking about. I am trying my damnedest not to think negative, but I just don't know. I just don't know if my stories are what they want. They say they the mag is geared toward 25 to 35 year old working professionals and that they are looking to cover local stories. Well, I am 26 and I am local. I can tame a keyboard, I think I have what it takes. But I held back dammit. Why? I am posting here, for all of you to see, exactly what I wrote. They wanted two pitches on local stories. My take on a pitch is that you give them a little of what you have, but not all of it. I hope I was right! For the love of all that is good and holy in the world, I cant extinguish the sever doubt in my head though. All of me is saying I am not smart enough, witty enough or knowledgeable enough to do this. But I did try, so that's a start. And I swear that I will continue to bug the crap out of that lady if she rejects me, until I am given the chance to prove I have what it takes. Now why couldn't I have that attitude to begin with? I don't know. My heart is ricocheting between the bottom of my stomach and the top of my throat. I am so freaking nervous, scared and excited and I can't even begin to say. Oh hell, I'll shut up now. Here's my pitches. I think I shall call them glitches. My bitches.

Pitch #1

Raleigh is defying the odds. Sure, it’s no secret that our real estate market is booming. But this year it has captured national attention and people are dashing here by the thousands to take advantage of it.

And of course, just when we start getting the attention we deserve, the lender crisis happens. Yes, we are currently facing one of the worst housing markets since the 1930’s. And for those of you who were drooling on your desks during history class, I’m talking about the Great Depression.

What does this mean though? It means that an unfathomable number of markets all over the US are seeing rapid decreases in their home values. They are literally bottoming out. What makes it worse is that people who are trying to buy homes can’t, because it’s too hard to get financing. You can thank the rising number of foreclosures for that, which has made lenders everywhere bite the dust. And the ones left are not willing to risk the same happening to them, by throwing out money like candy at a parade. It might surprise you that even people with near perfect credit are struggling to get loans right now.

But there’s something about Raleigh you should know. While other markets are scrambling to stay alive, Raleigh still prevails. Sure, the mortgage crisis has made an impact on home buyers and sellers here too, but thanks to an already stable market, we have the tools we need to stay alive. From credit repair to previously ignored loan programs, there’s no better place to realize your American Dream than here.

LAME.

Pitch #2

On October 1st, you can bet people will be flocking to North Raleigh by the hundreds. And whether they are motivated by loyalty, skepticism, or even to validate their own existence, they are going for one reason. Or one man actually.

He’s a local political icon, who you might know as the former senator, or maybe even the guy who spent $400 on a haircut. Not only does he send forth a measure of star quality, that has captured the attention of countless fans and critics alike, but he is also running for president in 2008. And there is only one man that fits this description. His name is John Edwards.

We can only hope the weather will be amicable as locals gather for their chance to meet this democratic presidential candidate. Because chances are, they all want to know more about his plan to “Build One America.” Edwards has high hopes for the US if he gets elected. Not only does he hope to restore leadership to the United States by ending the war in Iraq, but he also intends to extinguish poverty, provide universal healthcare and put a halt to global warming. If you aren’t sold yet, consider listening to what he has to say. John Edwards is the man with a plan to make America prosper and many feel he will deliver if given the chance.

LAMER. I will actually be attending this event, which I told them. But I feel like I didn't give enough info.

Give me your honest to God, no holds-barred opinion. And it will only comfort me if you tell me they kinda suck, because frankly, I know it. And wish me luck! I SO need it!

IdiosyncraZy

2007-09-06T21:47:00.000-04:00

There is nothing more utterly confusing than my emotions. I mean, I honestly don’t understand my reactions and how certain things bother me and others don’t.

For instance, put me in front of some sappy little drama or romance movie, I start to tear up. And if someone dies in the movie? Tears actually stream down my face. And don't tell me a story about a kid with cancer, an abused animal or an old lady who lost her husband then lost her house because she had no money…I sob and it bothers me for days (ok maybe it's more like a month). And of course you can’t talk about what make a woman sob and not bring up that special time of the month where all is bad and tear inducing. Mostly triggered of course, by the most insignificant, unimportant, random stupid things. I admit, I will cry like you wouldn't believe just because the curtains are dirty.

But then when real stuff actually happens to me, I become emotionally numb. When I lost my grandfather last year? I cried, but it wasn’t that good “from the bottom of your stomach, get it all the pain out” kind of cry. It was more or less sympathy sobbing for those I was around. It festered inside of me, it still hasn’t left and it bothers me. When my grandmother passed away last year shortly after my grandfather did…you wanna guess what happened? The same thing. I am convinced something is wrong with me. I feel it there, I do, but can't muster up a true tear. It’s like all the times I think I will end up wailing like a baby, nothing comes out. And the same thing happened again this month. When I took Caleb to his first day of preschool, I just knew I was going to be that sobbing parent, reaching out to her child as she reluctantly walked out the door. Nope, didn't happen. The moment I started to feel the burn of tears in my eyes, someone interrupted my almost there real live tears. And of course, as much as I thought about it and as hard as I tried, I could not make myself cry, I had lost it. Yet again, I was stuck with such a deep sad feeling, that would not come out.

I just don't get it. At all. Ok, moving on....Here's some little quirks about me that I should be slapped for. If I drop a cookie or something like that on the floor? I eat it, even if it has been 7 seconds. No, I don't line the restroom toilet with toilet paper before I sit on it and honestly, don't mind using the public restrooms. Can't say I ever give my veggies or fruit a really good scrub before I eat them, they only get rinsed and I really don't use harsh cleaners to clean up after raw meat. Even stranger? The fact that touching door knobs makes me want to shave the top layer of skin off my hands. Or if someone is ill with a non-contagious disease, I still freak out inside my head just being in the same room with them. I also can not tolerate under any circumstances breathing in that new carpet scent. It contains VOCs which are harmful to your health. I can literally feel my brain cells withering and I get dizzy. Yet, I am a smoker (yes, I know...leave me alone!). Do you see why I should be slapped? I would like to add that I am a huge hypocrite. I expect everyone to understand and sympathize with my emotions when I have them, but if someone else needs my understanding, I feel nothing for them. Even if I want to. So. Freaking. Strange.

And the weirdest part about all this is that now I feel cleaner inside. Me, who blushes at the mention of anything the slightest bit embarrassing. Now I have shamelessly divulged too much information and I feel freaking great about it. What the hell!

Ok people, onto to something less...weird. My middle name. It's...Louise (hate it by the way, thanks Mom!). You see, I got tagged the other day by Happy Working Mom...here's the task:

You must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had. When you are tagged you need to write your own blog-post containing your own middle name game facts. At the end of your blog-post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog. (Mine is sure to be lame) Here goes!

LOUISE:
L:ivid (because I get that way too often)
O:dd (I don't think I need to explain)
U:ncomfortable (mentally I mean)
I:mpatient (hates to wait for anything)
S:hy (always have been, always will be)
E:quivocal (doubts everything)

Now, I must tag 6 people....and I am really making an honest effort to not tag someone who has already done this...here goes:

1. Jill
2. Tiger Lamb Girl
3. Kellie
4. Mommyca
5. Shari
6. BS

Have fun! Now it's off to the kitchen for me to snatch up one of those tasty little White Castle burgers. yUm! Nothing like fatty processed food before you hit the sack.

Ponder this...

2007-09-04T20:13:00.000-04:00

Let me ask you something. Are you where you thought you would be in life? Do you have the career, home, money, cars, spouse, children, everything you always imagined? I would have to say I am down the road, around the corner and 800 miles further away from where I imagined I would be at 26. At least I didn't end up on the other side of the world....

What I wanted my life to be like at 26: Large house, fabulous cars, small dog, married with child, wanted to be a model or clothing designer, vacations at least once a year out of the country, savings account (that actually had money in it), enough money to enjoy life comfortably.

What I realistically thought my life would be like at 26: Renting a condo or townhouse, bar tending or working in retail, eventually getting a business management degree, not married, no children, occasional vacations to places in driving distance, maybe a cat, less than average car, enough money to have fun when I needed to.

What my life is actually like at 26: Own a lower middle class home, 1 pretty neat average car, 1 less than average car that just got wrecked today because an old lady hit the gas instead of the break at a stop light, office manager, no degree, married with child, 2 large dogs, vacations to places in driving distance, no savings, enough money to squeak by but also enough to enjoy life occasionally.

Until this very moment, I never thought to do this. I have never looked back in time, drudged up all those submerged aspirations and compared them to my current place in life. I guess I was afraid. But looking at it here like this, it's not so bad. I got a little of what I actually wanted and then a some of what I expected. Could be worse.

But something bothers me after looking back. I know the reason I am not doing more of the stuff I wanted to do, is because I have a ridiculously low self esteem. I single handedly defeat myself, no one else has to do it for me. It's why I am socially challenged. I literally don't have the confidence to be myself in front of people I don't know. Just responding to a simple hello is awkward for me. And when I am having a conversation with someone that I am actually acquainted with, I feel like I am annoying them. I feel like they are only talking to me to humor me, so I will find any excuse I can to stop talking and walk away, for their sake, even if I am totally enthralled with what we are talking about. Not only that, but with this writing thing I want to do, I instantly tell myself it won't happen. At least not yet, simply because I have nothing backing me up. No degree, no real experience. I have automatically assumed that I will have to start by writing some crappy columns on a random website that won't pay me enough to buy a plastic ring from a bubble gum machine. But you either have it or you don't in this line of work, so I don't know what's stopping me from at least trying. I suppose I fear that they'll read my resume and laugh.

And If someone has more money than me, I instantly feel like I am not worthy enough to be friends with them. I feel like trash, I feel like we couldn't possibly relate about anything. They always say that you must surround yourself with successful people in order to become successful yourself. I don't feel like I am successful, therefor, anyone who appears successful to me must not want to hang around me or shouldn't, for their own well being. I feel like the only good things about me are my looks, my fashion sense and well, that's it. OK, I know I have talents, but I haven't perfected them, which means they are worthless to even mention. They add absolutely nothing to my character if I'm not making money or getting famous off of them.

Now I would like to thank the countless people in high school who called me a dork, laughed at me when I would have to stand up and read in class, all the teachers who wrote me off because I wasn't an honor student and made me feel special, in an ED sort of way, and for those who could have helped me out that didn't, but are helping others equally as close to them out. (Not you Mom!) And I will add that living in Rockingham, NC did nothing for me.

This is my eternal struggle. And until I can overcome it, I know I won't be able to be what I want to be. And I honestly don't know where to start. I always knew I had low self esteem, but I never realized just how much it has affected my life. And not just the small things either. But I am going to make an honest effort with the writing thing. I am going to take a chance, put myself out there and see what happens. For once, I don't need it, so I don't care. Maybe if I have something like that to be proud of (IF it happens) then it may add a little more confidence to my every day life.

So here's to taking a moment to look back, being humble enough to admit your vices, being proud enough to realize your successes and being brave enough to keep moving forward.

The end of my blog as we know it.

2007-08-31T11:40:00.000-04:00

What's the first thing that goes through a flies mind when it hits a windshield? Its ass. Yep, I was a fly in another life, that's how I know. And now it's coming back to haunt me. I feel like my brain has relocated and rented out it's home to the inner workings of my backside.

Today I was told that my blog was a series of boring life moments made tolerable by my ability to put it together well with very few grammatical hiccups. Well, not in those exact words. It didn't make me angry, because the person who told me this was right. Since I am not blogging primarily to stay in touch with family, I suppose I could spice it up a bit. I have to admit, many times I am surprised by the hot pile of fly-infested stinking crap that comes out of my mind. I can barely get through writing it, then I expect you guys to read it. And enjoy it enough to come back.

Thanks to this person, I am now mentally constipated. I know I am perfectly capable of posting interesting, though provoking, witty blogs, but I just can't think of anything to write about. Since ~~my boring life is out of question~~ nothing profoundly interesting has happened today, I don't know what great topic to start my new and improved blog with. I suppose I could write about politics, but I fear your eyes will glaze over even more than before. And I don't want to lose any friends (yes, I mean you, Bush fans) Of course, there's always crazy Hollywood scandals and gossip. But I am no Perez Hilton wannabe.

So I ask you, what else is there? What do you enjoy reading about? Do you want drama? Weird random things? Controversial issues? What are your favorite blogs, why are they your favorites?

Until I can get past myself and stop being my own worst enemy, this blog will be "A work in progress." Hopefully I will find my niche soon enough. But after this, I shall not write any more mediocre nonsense. Here's to new beginnings. Cheers bitches.

Your expected wait time is: Forever. Please Hold.

2007-08-29T14:15:00.000-04:00

I have hereby declared today "International Hold For an Unreasonably Long Time"day. I would have added "Without Getting an Answer" but that seemed a bit too long.

Phone call #1: Wake County Inspection and Permit Department. Held for 14 minutes, no answer. It was close to lunch time, maybe they were eating. I thought the concept of voicemail had caught on, but apparently they missed that memo.

Phone call #2: Wake County Inspection and Permit Department; 1 hour later. After being forced to go through the automated system again, someone picked up..."Hold please, it might be a minute or two" I said sure. 17 minutes later the person had not gotten back to me, I hung up. Who do they think they are, the DMV or something?!

Phone call #3: Tech Support for an Internet based program I have to use, located in India (which you might have guessed was not working, hence the call). 14 minutes later, no answer. Ok, so this one didn't make me as mad, because I would inevitably have been more annoyed if I had to speak to them. Not only because they don't understand me, but I when I tell them what problems I am having, they start with questions like "Is your computer turned on?" Grrr...not looking forward to making that phone call tomorrow.

By this point, I was convinced that somehow, the rest of the earth had blown up and that I was the only one left.

Phone call #4: Domain Registry Renewal Department: Held for 5 minutes, someone picked up. Thank goodness there was still another living, breathing soul on this planet. But before I could celebrate, she told me to hold. 5 different times. For a total of 10 minutes. I finally got someone on the phone and for the first time today, I was able to mark something off my list.

Phone call #6: IRS (don't ask): Held for 7 minutes, and then was blessed with getting the most incomprehensible, slow, bi-polar woman to answer my call. I was on the phone with this woman for 32 minutes. I only had to talk to her about one thing. One minute she would be joking around happy, the next minute she was serious and almost angry. I think she's days from going postal...

There's not much worse than having to use your minutes holding for people you don't even want to talk to. And I really don't understand why it all had to happen on the same day. By the time 5pm rolled around, I had a terrible headache and I felt sick from being so aggravated. I actually asked hubby if I could lay down and take a nap (I don't ever take naps). I slept for two hours and it was hard to get up. I think I could have slept through the night.

And I did something last night I really didn't picture myself doing for a long time or possibly ever. I put together a resume. I am not looking for another job, but I am going to try to do some freelance writing on the side. I tell you with complete honesty, that I haven't done something that hard in a while. And I don't think I did that well. I asked one of my coworkers to look it over and give me suggestions. I fear that he will give it back to me with red marks all over it, much like the letters I used to write my Aunt when I was little. She would actually send the letters I wrote her, back to me, correcting my grammar and punctual errors. Must not let myself get drawn back into thoughts of complete worthlessness. Oh Geezus. If I can't even get past my resume, I am screwed.

Happy Nice Fun Things

2007-08-27T21:25:00.000-04:00

I would like to start off this post by thanking Jill for the shiny new award! I feel special, and honestly like being called nice for once, it's a swell change from the norm. I know she has no clue, but before Jill gave me this award, I was moments away from sayin' buh-bye blog. I guess I thought no one was really that interested, but Jill being the great advice giving, nice person that she is, gave me a new reason to stay. Awwww. Thanks for keeping me here! Now I must bestow upon 7 other deserving souls, the honour of being called "Nice". The sad part is, besides Jill (who I can't give it back to because she's the one that gave it to me, but I would have given it to her, had she not given it to me), there are only 7 people that I know! And some of them have already received this award. But what the hey, I will still give them, because I want to, they earned it! And the others, they so deserve it too! Here's how it goes: "This award is for those bloggers who are nice people; good blog friends and those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you've been awarded please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving of this award."

Amy You are the reason I came to this virtual blabber box. Thanks for being my friend!

Happy Working Mom I appreciate all the nice advice you give me, it's appreciated!

Kellie Bless your soul, you always crack me up. And it's not just the vicodin (legal of course).

Beccy Other than her fabulous life of traveling everywhere I never knew I wanted to visit, she too gives me great advice and comments

Edie You are the only other person I have actually met and have gotten many great tips and advice from you!

BS Thanks to you, every chair I see is a potential "naughty chair" hee hee. I am seriously trying that one out, thanks for the great advice!

Tiger Lamb Girl One of my most recent additions to the "A" list, who probably has the most crazy life I ever heard of, but always has time to say something nice.

Thank you all for being my blog buddies and for continuing to read my crap. I know it's torture sometimes, but I gotta tell ya, I appreciate it!

One good thing happens and it sets off a chain of events. One moment I am pissed off beyond belief and then suddenly I am left sitting here, with nothing at all to complain about! That's really something. First it was my in-laws stocking up the ol' fridge to help us out, then it was the uber nice award. Today I had a tolerable and surprisingly productive day at work and when I got home, the happy nice stuff didn't end. I got a card in the mail from my Mom.

You see, I tortured my poor mother last week. She wouldn't go to the doctor even though there was good reason for her to. She wanted to come visit this past weekend but I told her I was holding her grandson hostage until she made an appointment to see the doc. She blew me off. So to punish her, I didn't call her on Friday to make a time/place for us to meet and visit. And then, today I see the card her and Mike, my second Daddy sent. It had pictures from her recent vacation to Michigan with some family I haven't seen in a while and...money! Charity case continued. I instantly felt like a little twerp. I was playing hard love and she was pouring love out of her heart to me. Clearly, my mother has been reading my blog, otherwise she would not have known that I was playing financial twister. Yeah, I felt crappy and happy all at the same time. I called her to say thank you and she told me made an appointment with the doc on Friday and asked then proceeded to ask why I did not call. I guess she didn't think I was serious when I said I wouldn't see her until she made an appointment. Oh well. I am a poop head. A poop head with an awesome mom and step dad. Love you Mom and Mike!!

Something my mom said today threw me off guard. We were just chatting and all of a sudden, her voice got serious and she said, "Now Heather, let me tell you something" in the tone of voice that made me think I was going to be grounded. After hesitantly responding with a meek "O.k...." she told me she never realized how good I was at writing. Blame it on all but 1 of my english teachers for making me feel like I couldn't describe what apple looks like to a blind person or that I was one run on sentence away from being a grammar reject, but I really don't have confidence in my writing. She told me I should take up journalism. The thought honestly never occurred to me. I don't know if it's just the "mom" thing, or if I actually do have talent, but she has put that thought into my head. And now I know, no matter how hard I try, I won't be able to escape it unless I try to pursue it. So this shall be my new obsession. I tell you, I would love to write for a living. Love it more than the yummy cream filled, chocolate hostess cakes that I am currently shoving into my mouth. It really is a superb idea, hey if Bush can be president....

Other than that, I actually cleaned my house and did my laundry, whoo hoo! I even had time to draw in between. I really like to draw tattoo art. I don't have any tattoos, but I just feel that type of art in my blood, it comes easy to me. I shall sell it one day and make very little money, but it would be worth it if I end up seeing one of my picture permanently etched into someones skin. Anyone looking for a tattoo?

Ice cream (and I scream)

2007-08-24T20:43:00.000-04:00

It really has been one of those weeks. Life is changing for my family, times are tough and on this Friday night, after putting Caleb to bed all I wanted to do was sit in my garage, sip on a cold drink and enjoy the peace and quiet while letting the strains of the past week float away. I plopped down on my old tattered couch, sat my computer on my lap and enjoyed the silence of the neighborhood, the chirping frogs and for a moment, I was at peace.

Then I heard the music. I thought it was a cell phone, but mine was beside of me on vibrate and Mike wasn't home. It got louder, closer, a simple melody, it was a children's song that I vaguely recognized. The melody chimed loudly, filling my quiet sleepy neighborhood with uninvited noise. I didn't believe it at first, but I soon realized that it was an ice cream truck, driving down my street, at 9pm no less. It was quite eerie how the melody echoed though the neighborhood, no children out to hear it, just a lonely ice cream truck and it's creepy song. What reason would this person have to drive through neighborhoods this late at night? Especially with their music blaring? I was honestly scared to walk outside, I thought it might be some sort of drive by or something. You just don't see ice cream trucks out this late. I do know that next time I hear it coming, I will not have Caleb outside. The person driving it probably didn't care too much about serving ice cream, if you know what I mean.

Creepy stuff aside, I guess I will tell you about my week. My husband is a mortgage broker and if any of you are breathing, then you know the current situation with lenders imploding left and right. This puts quite the strain on us, considering he works on commission and depends on being able to finance his clients. This is hard to do when the sub prime lending market is crashing and most of the population does not have so great credit (which means any lender left is not willing to fork out money unless the consumer has good credit). It's going to be interesting to see who pulls through this. I don't know if we will.

On a lighter note, my husband is taking over a lawn care business. It should provide some extra income, but winter will soon come and he will be out of work until summer, for the most part. It's funny though, today he went to play pool and won more money than he did doing lawn care his first week. I am considering making him play pool every day for money now. If he played pool 5 times a week and consistently won what he did tonight, we'd have an extra $48k in the bank each year. Talk about a nice second job :)

Speaking of jobs, something that happened at mine bothered me a little this week. I had some issues with a coworker and sent my manager an email expressing my concerns, which is what I was told to do by one of my team members. I agree I could have talked to him directly, but I tend to freeze up, stutter and forget everything when I am in front of someone. So I got a response back from him and his superior stating that they had problems with this person before and that they would talk to him. Well, today the coworker I was having problems with wrote me a (nice) email mentioning that the manager showed him my letter. This caught me off guard, because I wrote that letter in confidence, I trusted the manager to relay my message, but in his words, you know? I do not think that it was handled appropriately, no matter what their motivation for doing so. I am not angry, but I am not real happy about it either.

And there's nothing like in-laws to make you feel wonderful and horrible all at the same time. Tonight, my in-laws surprised us with a car load of groceries. I felt like I was on one of those extreme home make over shows, only my show would be called extreme refrigerator/pantry makeover. Sure, we were low on groceries and money is tight, but Caleb had plenty of food and we had food...well, nothing we actually wanted to eat, but we would have survived. I really don't know how to thank them more than the million thank-you's that came out of my mouth. And I honestly felt horrible that they felt it necessary to do that (apparently Mike let it slip that we were low). I feel like I probably could have done without some of the fast food I ate this week, probably didn't need the shirt I bought last week or the fancy new picnic table I bought Caleb Sunday. There's groceries right there. I feel very irresponsible and stupid. But I am so incredibly grateful that they did that. It takes one worry off my shoulders and I am very lucky to have people in my life to do this for us. But I still feel like a charity case.

Now I just have to brace myself for the fact I have to spend well over $200 that I don't have next week to get my grill fixed (and by grill, I mean teeth of course!) Not only that, but I am helping host a baby shower for my BFF and have to figure out how I will ever afford all the things I agreed to buy. I am excited about going shopping for the stuff, but I would like it better if I felt comfortable spending the money. I don't know if I should be talking about how broke I am right now, but I figure everyone's been there at some point, so someone will understand my pain!

And I am not not not looking forward to cleaning my house! Well, no, I detest the laundry more than I hate cleaning. It piles up so fast and I can't manage to get ahead of myself on it. I think I am in a real deep rut right now. It's been going on this entire month, snowballing and I hope that we are about as far in it as we can get. Just waiting for the "uphill from here" stuff to start happening.

I need Martha Stewart. I need organization. I need a mommy to force me to do the stuff I am sitting here complaining to you about. Sorry. I guess I am a little hormonal today if you know what I mean. Too much information?

Do they make straight jackets for toddlers?

2007-08-22T20:48:00.000-04:00

I love taking care of things that I have been putting off. For instance, today I went to the dentist. I found out I have more cavities than I have teeth and that my mouth will require over $3,000 worth of work in order to be acceptable again. But it's not like every time I open my mouth a nasty green fog comes out that curls up your nose hair. People actually tell me I have a very nice smile. I guess looks can be deceiving. Oh well. All I know is next week I will be able to function again after I get these two teeth that are really bothering me taken care of. And I don't have gum disease or mouth/throat cancer. That's a plus.

Besides that, I would really like to get some advice. My son has been throwing tantrums that leave me feeling like that mom we all stared at before we had children. That mom with the screaming child that she can't control...the slightest thing sets him off. The second he gets mad, he screams, shakes his head furiously, while slapping himself in the face, then proceeds to bang his head on the wall, the floor, chair, my leg...then he will throw anything he can pick up. Sometimes he will throw things with no particular aim, other times, he throws things at me. It's hard not to laugh sometimes, because after he throws something, he will turn around and stare at me, with this "I'm gonna smear poop all over these walls because I am so mad at you" look. I really don't know how to react to it.

I have tried being stern mommy, holding him firmly while telling him NO "____-ing" (hitting, throwing, etc...). I have tried being mean mommy and smacking him on his padded butt once, hard enough for him to know I mean business, followed by a stern No. It worked the first time, but I feel like such a hypocrite when I tell him no hitting...then I hit him. Now it just makes him even madder and he screams bloody murder at me. I have tried being nice mommy, by telling him a firm no and then picking him up and giving him a long hug explaining why what he did was bad-which I know is utterly pointless considering he really doesn't know what on earth I am babbling about. And finally, I have tried time out. The only place I can put him really is his room, he does calm down...until I go back in there. Then it starts all over. And he gets mad when I take him in his room for other reasons, I guess because time out makes him feel like it's a negative place. I have tried at every opportunity I get, praising him on the good things he does too. I just don't know anymore. Mine and the hubby's parents say that we are letting him rule us, but we honestly try to be consistent and stand our ground. But his temper always prevails, until something finally clicks in his head and he realizes it's ok to calm down. It's literally like a switch. And I don't know where to find it.

Is this normal? I want honest answers. Tell me if I am being a pushover whether I realize it or not! But if it's 100% a normal phase for a 2 year old, then that's ok too. I appreciate any help you can give me!

A new type of danger...do you know who's watching?

2007-08-20T21:36:00.000-04:00

The times, they are a changing. When I was four, I lived on a marina. I remember wandering around the grounds of the yacht club pretty much unsupervised with my friends. Sometimes I would go visit my favorite buddy, Bernard, an middle-aged sailor with the coolest bean-bag chair and gizmos that I child could ever see. The weird part of all this, is that when I would wander off, there weren't amber alerts being broadcast, my mom wasn't out yelling frantically, crying, assuming the worst had happened. No, I was always safe and that's just the way things were. My parents trusted these people that we lived around. They knew they were watching if she wasn't. And nothing bad ever happened.

Even when we moved to a suburban neighborhood when I was 5, I would play outside with my friends and our adventures were not limited to any particular yard. We would go back and forth around the block, we'd go to the neighorood next to us, heck sometimes, if we were brave enough, we'd even go to the graveyard around the bend. It was completely normal, you didn't have to worry about child abductions, predators or anything of that nature. The world seemed like a very safe place. I am sure my mom rested easier through all this knowing that the eyes of the neighborhood were watching over us. Again, nothing bad ever happened.

But these days, my Bernard buddy wouldn't be allowed. It's unlikely that a child this young could do such a thing as wander around a neighborhood without supervison. Because you really never know who's watching. Even the people you know, you may not really know as well as you think. It's tough to judge how much freedom a child should have and at what age.

Today, I am not writing about the dangers of wandering children. As much of threat as it could be, I am talking about an entirely new breed of threat- online child stalking. It's really sad when your children don't even have to leave the house to be watched.

They might not know where you live...now. But it's easy enough to find out. I guarantee, I can find where any of you live with the most minimal information, in less than an hour. Would I? No. But what I am saying is that if little ol' me can pull up enough info in 1 hour to be able to drive by your house, imagine what someone who is really sick in the head could do if they find something they like.

I heard this the other day, maybe on the news. Proud parents, displaying countless pictures of their children on myspace and other websites, blogging about their daily events, even divulging particular locations. Sick people infatuated with young children can easily access this information. We are giving them our life stories, a pretty picture to paint in their minds of how our sweet innocent children live, what they do for fun, showing pictures of how cute they are. They aren't even old enough for myspace, or other online places that have been proven to get older children in trouble, but we put them there. Are WE setting our children up to be targets?

I don't know what the chances of an evil somebody coming across pictures of my child are. I would think that the chances of anyone acting on it would be even less. But now, I am not so sure if I want to find out.

Yep, I feel paranoid, silly, overprotective and semi-ridiculous writing this. But then I stop and think- times really have changed since I was little. It's not just something that's said, it's true. Is it not probable that change is happening in a whole new way? Do I really want my child to be a statistic, proving how the internet can be used as a tool to attack innocent children? Do I want to epitomize this change? No, a million times over.

2007-08-17T13:32:00.001-04:00

I called Burger King headquarters. I told my story and the guy who I was speaking with said, "Let me tell you why they did that..." He proceeds to tell me that they get bonuses for recording good drive thru times, so they were doing it for their own benefit by asking me to pull forward. (This I had already figured out, but I didn't realize they got bonuses) He then told me he would have done the same thing that I did, especially considering the situation. And of course, I am getting free food! Would you doubt me for a second?

That's not the only free food I got mwaaahaaahhaaaa! McDonalds is now also contributing to my complimentary fast food delight. Friday for lunch I went to the drive thru and ordered a GRILLED Chicken RANCH Snack Wrap. I made sure to emphasize those two words (and repeat twice) because last time I came through this drive thru, they gave me a Crispy Chicken Honey Mustard Snack Wrap. It was right on the screen, everything seemed fine.

It was pretty busy, but I was confident they wouldn't screw it up. I get to the window and then...they ask me to pull forward. I groaned at the guy in the window saying "I guess I'll pull forward" and then he asked if I would accept a Ranch Crispy Chicken wrap because the grilled chicken would be a few minutes. I comprised, said sure, got the bag and left.

I got home, sunk my teeth into what I thought was going to be ranch-soaked chicken...but no. It was freaking Honey Mustard!!!! Uh. It's like they do it on purpose. I called the manager and said this was the second time this has happened. She's sending me free food coupons.

I have had it with these poop heads at the drive thrus. In the same tune as "Dog the Bounty Hunter," I now am the one and the only, the self proclaimed...

"Heather, the drive-thru Monitor"

You can have it your way, as long as they give it to you their way.

2007-08-16T21:06:00.001-04:00

As of today, I have come to appreciate my ridiculously happy Starbucks drive-thru guy. I went there again this morning, he wasn't making my coffee, but he popped his head out the window and asked if I was ready for it (the coffee). After telling him "yes" with a grin (because he remembered me) he said, "I don't know, I don't think you're ready for it..." anyway, it made me happy today that he was being his usual peppy self.

And now for the reason I have found a new appreciation for this guy.

It's called Burger King.

On my way home from one of the most annoying days I have had in a long time, I decided to stop by Burger King to pick up some food for dinner. I ordered, got to the window, paid, the girl gave me the drinks and then, the most absurd thing happen.

She asked me to pull forward. Sure, you might be thinking it's no surprise, but tell me what kind of logic this is. I was the only one in the drive thru. There was NO ONE behind me. The only person there was someone who had been sitting in the "please pull forward" spot since I had been there.

So I nicely asked her why I needed to pull forward when there was no one behind me and someone already waiting in the spot I needed to pull to. The response I got was effing stupid. This little teenage girl says to me "well we have this timer back here that tracks how long you have been at the drive thru and if you sit here too long, it just messes everything ALL up". She even waved her hands in the air as if that signified what would happen if I sat there too long.

I blankly stared at her while I played back in my mind what she said to me, just to make sure I heard it correctly. So let me get this straight- this girl thinks that I should pull forward because they aren't doing their jobs AND it's not even busy?!?! Oh hell no.

Again in a calm and nice as possible considering the situation tone, I told her I'd like to sit and wait there since no one was behind me and so that I could make sure my order was correct before pulling away from the window.

I got the normal reaction, she rolled her eyes and stomped over to her manager at the fry machine, saying something to her on the way. Then the greatest thing happened. As soon as she got near the fry machine, the manager handed her my fries, that we were supposedly waiting on and the girl came back and handed me my order. It took all of 10 seconds, and that's being generous with the time. The girl didn't say anything else to me, she just slammed the window closed and walked away.

So tell me, why on earth did they ask me to pull forward? Clearly, my fries were ready. There was no reason other than for their own selfish good to make me pull forward. After getting home, I realized they gave me a medium fry instead of a large fry too.

I tried calling the place, but their phone has been busy A-L-L night. Go figure. You can bet, tomorrow I will be calling the King himself and asking them if they could send me a copy of their "Consumer Drive-Thru Etiquette Guide." Clearly I have missed something about my duty as a drive-thruee. Or maybe these people need to realize that they can't punish me to make themselves look better. Screw that. They are so giving me free food. Mark my words.

Yes, I'll have one cup of coffee, with a side of misery, please.

2007-08-13T20:45:00.001-04:00

Sometimes happy people piss me off. Especially on Mondays. See Sunday, after getting a nice greasy meal from Waffle House, Mike and I went to Starbucks near our house. We went through the drive-thru and were greeted by an abnormally cheerful male who told us it was a superb day at Starbucks and that he was happy to take our order. After I placed my order for a Cinnamon Dolce Latte, he proceeded to tell me to drive around to the window to pick up my "best ever" Cinnamon Dolce Latte. Yesterday I was in a good mood, so I was actually kinda happy that this guy was so intent on serving me the best cup of caffeine possible with the most positive attitude I have ever seen from a drive-thru worker.

We got to the window. This guy pops out, reminding me of one of those pop-up books where the picture jumps out at you as soon as you open the page. He continued on his quest to go over and above by telling us that what I was about to get was a little something he like to call "Happiness in a cup". Well, I can see how that's possible. Then he said just the mere taste of what he was brewing me would make Mike smile, even though he wasn't drinking it, just because it would bring that big of a smile to my face. Then he saw Caleb and offered him a sticker. Of course Caleb stared at him, because, well, he can't speak really. So of course we responded the way Caleb would have, could he talk and said Oooh, can I have the red one? He gave us a red dragon sticker. Come to think of it...~~Caleb must have ate the sticker because I haven't seen it~~ where did that sticker go? Hmmm...anyway, the guy goes to finish making my drink and before handing it to me, he pauses to tell me it is literally the best Cinnamon Dolce Latte I will ever have the pleasure of drowning my taste buds in and to have a superb day.

I have to admit, it did make me smile. And it actually made Mike smile too. It was a darn good cup of coffee. I think it was better because it was served with such a positive attitude.

Then today came. I had a couple drinks last night that I didn't expect to have and honestly, I haven't drank in quite a while. So today I did not wake up well. I needed coffee, bad. So I decided to leave a little early so I could stop by that Starbucks, which wasn't really on my way, but I needed it. When I get there, I am greeted by a male voice. "It's a superb day at Starbucks..."

As you have probably guessed, it was the same guy and I got the same exact spiel as I did Sunday. Except without the sticker part. I probably would have smiled if I had never heard it before. But two things made me groan. One being that I realized I was not special, he clearly used this "java-ganda" with every customer and two, he didn't even remember me. I would have preferred misery in a cup, not happiness. I am quite comfortable with wallowing in my sorrows and I detest anyone that tries to make me smile when I just want to be miserable. Especially on a Monday, the Nerve!

Your daily dose of crazy....

2007-08-08T20:53:00.000-04:00

I think I have a brain tumor. Or maybe an extreme case of short term memory loss. It could also be early onset of dementia. I don't know. But I have been 100% stupid, forgetful and plain dumb lately. And my head really hurts. Really.

My coworker says I need multivitamins. But I don't buy it. I am convinced something serious is wrong. For instance, last night, my husband was calling to check his voicemail. He told me what he was doing, and then I asked..."who are you calling?"

The blank stare that I received was enough to tell me I was going insane.

I constantly forget why I am going in a room, what I was going there to get, I forget who I am calling sometimes and most recently, I have started to call someone and then forgotten about it. It has happened at least 3 or 4 times, I will make the call, get distracted, set the phone down and meanwhile the person I am calling picks up and is screaming "Hello?!" while I am doing something else. It's very embarrassing.

It's everything. At work, I have been screwing up, forgetting and confusing the most simple things. At home, I blame it on being tired from work, but it's the same. I will even be watching TV and when a commercial comes on, I am left asking myself what on earth I was watching. Sometimes, when I am watching Caleb alone, I will forget it's lunch time...until he starts screaming at me, I won't even realize it's time to eat. Even driving has become interesting. I find myself driving noticeably more careless. Not on purpose, but accidentally. I don't know if it's that I have always been slightly careless and am just now realizing it or that I am actually becoming a little more careless, but either way, something has changed a bit.

Speaking is another challenge in itself. I can't even get old over-used phrases out of my mouth correctly. Today, I referred to myself as "Not the brightest tool in the shed" and of course, the saying goes, "Not the Sharpest tool in the shed. I can't even get something that simple out correctly! If someone asks me a question, my very first response is "Uhhhmmmmm......" and then I might manage to get something resembling an answer to stumble out of my mouth after 10 seconds of silence due to a completely blank mind. And you know what else? I can't even tell you the rest of the stupid things I have done, because I have forgotten those too!

I can't concentrate. I can't focus. I can't motivate. I feel tired. And my head really hurts! The whole left side of my noggin including my ear, inside mostly, hurts. I want to believe that it's the 2 teeth I am waiting for my dental appointment to get fixed. They hurt a little every day...it actually makes my whole jaw hurt sometimes. Could that really cause all this physical pain and mental suffering?

Maybe it's meningitis. My neck hurts too and it feels kind of stiff. I hear it can mess with your brain as well. Yes, I know, that's not the only thing that could be wrong with my brain. But you know what? I don't mind all of you knowing that I am a hypochondriac. Why? Because you will either tell me I am overreacting, that the same thing has happened to you (and I will feel better) or you will tell me something might be wrong with me (and you won't mean it in a sarcastic way) and I will finally go to the doctor. Either way, something good comes out of it.

I am done being silly. Comments, suggestions and smart remarks are welcome.

The most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me (Part Deux)

2007-08-03T20:28:00.000-04:00

Last night, I was in tears as I drove home from band practice. It all started after I left work early to head to Holly Springs, so I could meet an engineer at a house we were selling. Holly Springs was far enough away, that I wouldn't need to go back work, since it was so late in the day. Holly Springs is also where I play in the band, so I figured I would shop around and do whatever after the meeting, which ended at 3:30pm, until I had to go to band at 7pm (mind you, I live 1 hour away from Holly Springs, so there was no point in going home either). I had called my husband at 3pm, no answer. Nothing to worry about, he was probably busy at work, he keeps Caleb there with him, so it's normal for him not to answer sometimes.

After about an hour of shopping, I decide to call him again. No answer, I left a message. He was probably getting out of work, heading home and didn't want to answer because he was driving with our son. So I decide to go to a couple more places, get something to eat and then around 6:00pm, I called him again. No answer. Hmmm....was he napping? Who knew. So I went to a drug store and picked up a magazine and went to sit in the parking lot of the place the band was practicing. After an hour, before I got out of my car to go to practice, I figured I'd try calling again. No answer. I wasn't terribly worried, maybe he left his phone in the car. He'd surely have it after I got out of band at 8:30pm, because he normally walks outside to call his buddy and smoke a cigarette after he puts Caleb to bed at 8pm.

I get out of band fully expecting to see that I have missed a call or gotten a new voicemail from him. Nothing. No call, no voicemail. Somethings not right. I got in my car to start my hour long journey home. I called him again, it rang and rang, but no answer. I knew his phone was charged because it was ringing and not going to voicemail. What was going on!?! I called his brother, he normally comes over every night, but he didn't answer. Crap. I called his buddy Chad, the one that speaks to my husband on the phone more than I do. He answered. I expected him to say he had talked to him or been to our house, but he hadn't. He said he tried to call but Mike didn't answer. He drove by our house (he lives down the road from us) and he said there were no lights on at my house. Oh holy hell. If Mike hadn't spoke to Chad, something was up. Unfortunately Chad wasn't anywhere near our house, so he couldn't go knock on the door and make sure everything was ok. Next, I called Mikes' mom, keep in mind, no more than 10 minutes have passed. She says she hasn't talked to him and she is instantly concerned. We both knew this was not like Mike, Mike who should have his phone implanted into his ear because he talks on it so much. She told me to call her when I got home. I believe she thought I was a lot closer than I was, otherwise she would have been in the car on her way.

So I had at least 40 minutes before I got home. 40 minutes to stew inside on what the heck happened. I was convinced that this loser we know came and killed Mike and Caleb. Mike helped this guy out so much and this guy stabbed him in the back big time, it involved money too. We were told he was in prison, but Mike ran into him last week (along with the guy who told Mike he was in prison) so it took everything Mike had not to beat the ever loving crap out of this guy and his lying friend. I just knew that cowardly asshole came to our house and killed them. Or maybe it was carbon monoxide poisoning. We have one of those detectors, but what if it didn't work?! Or was it a random robber or something? You can imagine the things you could come up with in 40 minutes.

It was the longest drive ever. And I was sobbing the whole way, sick to my stomach. I almost felt like I didn't want to find out what happened so bad, that I could very well have driven to California without looking back. I didn't want to see anything. I couldn't handle it. God, I couldn't handle it. I would have died. I really would have died. There is absolutely nothing worse than something like this happening. Nothing. I would rather die myself than to see something like this.

I finally get to the entrance of my neighborhood. I go way too fast through it, but it's late and I am terrified. I pull up to my house. No lights on. The Tv's on, but Mike always keeps it on. I am shaking so bad I can barely turn the door knob to come in my garage. I listen for a split second before entering the kitchen to see if I hear anything. Nothing. Not even the dogs. I muster up any courage I have to open the door, just enough to see if there is blood all over the floor or something. Nothing yet. I opened the door all the way and didn't see anything out of place, so I walked in. I see into the living room, and then I saw Mike. He was laying across the couch, his eyes closed.

Then, the most wonderful thing happened, he moved. He opened his eyes, grumbled 'hey babe' and wearily sat up. I ran and jumped on him, sobbing, relieved, but stressed out. He knows what's wrong. Then the asshole had the nerve to laugh at me. But why, why hadn't he answered the phone?

He left it at freaking work. He realized it after he had gotten home and didn't feel like going all the way back there to get it. (We cut off our house phone because we n.e.v.e.r. used it) So all this time, I am convinced that my child and husband are dead...and it's all because my husband left his mother effing phone at work. Phantasma-freaking-gorical

This man is going to be the death of me. First it's the window thing, now this. I can see wrinkles in my face that didn't exist last month. And he laughs. Anyone know a good psychiatrist?

Title on vacation

2007-08-01T20:41:00.001-04:00

It just dawned on me that I never put pictures up of our Michigan trip. You know, it's just so dang hard to go get my camera, pop that memory card out and put it in my computer. I am not sure what it is, but I have been so lazy lately that I barely have the motivation to even shower. Don't worry, I shower daily, but it's just felt like a huge inconvenience. Even tax free weekend sounds like such a bother...getting in my car...Driving! Walking through crowds! Waiting in lines...normally I would have already planned my entire shopping stops by now and would have been eagerly waiting for Saturday to get here, like a kid waiting for Christmas. What's WRONG with me!?!?!

Here's a change, I will post something useful that I came across a moment ago. Did anyone hear about the toy recall from Fisher Price? Visit here to view a list of all recalled toys. There are lots of them. They were recalled because of excessive amounts of lead in the surface paint. Scary. You'd think they'd stop using lead, in well, everything that a kid plays with. But apparently it's really popular in China. I dunno.

Ok, time to go do a little more of nothing. And I will post pictures...one day.

Change

2007-07-30T21:21:00.000-04:00

From anyone else's point of view, what happened to me today might seem pretty insignifacant in the grand scheme of things. But today, change was both yelling at me and whispering in my ear, leaving lingering feeling of subdued excitement and an ache in my heart for times that will no longer be.

So you might laugh at what I am about to tell you. It's ok. I would laugh too. It's like the husky guy that I sat behind watching "Titanic" when it came out in the movie theater. He was sobbing in big gulps, trying to hide it, but he couldn't. And I couldn't help but laugh, because it's a movie for crying out loud! I always laugh at people crying at movies or crying over sentimental things. I don't know why. But sometimes I am the one crying and I realize some of you will understand what I am saying, but you will also laugh too.

Caleb got his first big boy bed today. Oh God, here come the water works. Excuse me. *Sob sob* You know, it didn't really hit me, until I started taking apart his crib, that he would no longer be sleeping in it. Which means he is actually not a baby anymore. But my excitement kept me from crying at that moment, because he has a shiny new firetruck bed. It's the one that little tikes makes, it's shaped like a fire truck and all. It even has a red light on top, it's cute. But then I realized something else that made my heart sink, his walls...his pictures. They don't match the new bed. I hand painted everything in his room, it's a safari theme taken from the tiddliwinks nursery bedding I got. It's adorable and I am not ready to admit that he may be getting too old for it now. The murals, the plaques, the curtain...all of it. It has to change. And I don't think I can do it. You know what insane thought passed through my head after I realized this? Hmmm...why don't I just paint the firetruck a different color, instead of repainting his room! Has anyone ever seen a blue, aqua or pastel green firetruck? Yeah, I didn't think so. Am I crazy, or is this normal?

Of course it didn't end there. Caleb decided that he wanted to pull one of the electrical outlet safety covers off tonight, then try to stick his finger in it. Of course I scared the bejesus out of him just running to where he was, then I popped him on the butt kinda hard, which I really don't do a whole lot. I think he got the point, because I have never seen him cry so hard over discipline in his whole life. It broke my heart to have to be mean.

And then there was bedtime. You know, my husband and I didn't really think this out well. Mike has pool league finals tonight, so he wasn't home. He is the only one succesfull at calming Caleb in his worst at bedtime. Tonight Caleb was at his worst (HellO! New bed!) Even though he had plenty of time to get aquainted with his new bed, he understandably refused to lay down and sleep when the time came. I sat with him for an hour and it didn't help. So I did something I have never done before. I left his room and let him cry it out. It hurt. I sat outside his door, as if that really helped. I paced. I turned on his video monitor and stared at it. I paced some more. Then 20 minutes later, he's still crying full force and I decided, ok, I will go get a drink, get something to much on, put it by the couch and then I will go get him, bring him to the couch with me and let him fall asleep on my lap, while I watch Big Love. By the time I got my drink and snack, I noticed something. Silence. Could it be true? I checked the monitor. He was just laying there, motionless. Oh good God, was he dead!? Did he suffocate himself because he was so upset? Oooh, no, there was movement, he shifted. Phew. So he was actually falling asleep. Wow, that actually wasn't so hard. But my moment of triump was overshadowed by sadness. I was sad because I realized he didn't need me to fall asleep. He really is getting to be a big boy.

Yeah, it was a day full of exciting and unexpected shifts. I even saw the end of a rainbow today, when I was on my way to work. I drove right through it. Much to my disappointment, there was no pot of gold, no, there wasn't even dancing leprechauns. Oh well. Maybe I didn't find the pot full of shiny gold coins, but I did find some change :)

I think I could actually make chapters for this one...(in other words, it's ok not to read it all in one sitting!)

2007-07-27T21:49:00.000-04:00

What do you get when you have a 30hr round trip drive, one-hundred thousand drunk people partying around one-hundred thousand dollar plus yachts, beautiful breezy days filled with 4 wheeler riding, shooting guns into gullies and the near death of a relative?
You get my trip to Michigan.

See it started off great. Our 15hr drive from North Carolina to Michigan went smoothly. Normally we hit endless construction and traffic jams, but the trip went flawlessly. Even Caleb was perfectly content the whole way watching his DVD’s and munching on junk food (hey, it’s vacation).

We arrived to my Dad’s home Thursday around noon. He built a lovely log cabin, situated on 4 acres of land, equipped with a small pond fit for swimming and gazing, a garden with all the veggies you could possibly need, deer and geese littering the yard every dusk and dawn…it’s the most peaceful place I think anyone could live. The only way to get to it is by dirt road and the most traffic I counted in one day was 10 cars. Well, that’s counting the neighbor that drove by at least 4 times. The weather was wonderful, in the 70’s, breezy, cloud studded skies with endless sunshine and it even got chilly enough at night to wear a sweater. It was such a relief to be off the road and welcomed to this little paradise…it was perfect.

Then Friday happened. I received a call from my grandmother, who lives here in NC (My parents are divorced, this is the grandma on my mom’s side). It threw me off because I knew she didn’t have my Dad’s phone number so I immediately realized it must not be good if she took the time to find it. I knew as soon as she spoke that she was upset. She said my Aunt Tamara who is also on my mom’s side of the family and who lives in Michigan, was put in the hospital and wasn’t expected to make it through the next two days. Lovely. We were already planning on going to visit her in her rest home on Monday, but after this phone call naturally we moved it to, well, right now. And come to find out, she was admitted in a hospital clear across Michigan, which meant a grueling 8 hour drive. Great. Just what I wanted to after driving 15 hours…drive 8 hours.

My Dad and I decided to go it alone because Mike is worse than Caleb in the car and it would have been simply annoying to take him. And bringing Caleb seemed pointless since we were told she was so out of it, as far as we knew she wouldn’t even know we were there. My dad called the hospital to get directions (he has no internet so mapquest was not an option). No answer, no voicemail or message. What the hell. 411 must have given us the wrong number. So I called my grandma to see if she had a number, thankfully she did. Dad called the number grandma gave us…no answer. At least there was a recording this time, but still, what the eff kind of hospital doesn’t answer their phone? Now we were worried. You see, my Aunt has adopted 3 different girls, two of which we know are bad news and the other one we really don’t know much about. The one we didn’t know much about was the one ‘taking care’ of my Aunt. We immediately assumed we would be pulling up to some shoddy little medical facility with broken, blinking lights, blood stained walls and broken windows.

After a 4 hour ride, we finally arrive in Battle Creek, Michigan. It’s the home of Post and Kellogg’s Cereal. By the way, may I just say that I am not impressed with the Post Cereal plant. It looks run down, hopefully the inside is far better than the outside. Anyway, we find the hospital…phew, it looks normal. We go in and the receptionist can not locate my Aunt, she says that she is not admitted. I immediately wondered what the hell kind of operation they have going there. Luckily, my grandmother had given us my Aunt’s room number, so we decided to find it ourselves. After an unusually shaky elevator ride, we arrive at the third floor and find my Aunt’s room. She’s not there. Hmmm...are we even at the right place? Then this obviously pissed off lady comes walking up to his and introduces herself as Mary, she is the adopted daughter, the one taking care of my Aunt. I am instantly relieved to see that she is normal but I am very intimidated by this woman. She just looked like she could tear your head off. Moments after we met, my Aunt was wheeled down the hall to her room. Apparently Mary was pissed off because they had taken my Aunt for an operation that wasn’t even scheduled yet because she wasn’t fully prepped. At this point, I am convinced that the staff must have been sniffing glue in med school.

Anyway, my Aunt was fine. She wasn’t doing great, but a miracle of sorts happened over night and she pulled through. She was able to have the surgery she needed (at the correct time) and has been released. It did break my heart though, when she asked where Caleb was. Oh well. Other than that, Mary and I had some bonding moments, she told me how the other 2 girls my Aunt adopted took all my Aunt’s money, wrecked her home almost to the point of condemnation and abused her. They should be very glad no one knows where they live now, otherwise I would be writing from prison.

We arrive back Friday night after an hour of sitting in unexpected construction. Normally I would be extremely aggravated or tired by this point, but instead I consumed with excitement. And there is only one thing that can supersede the ease in which I wallow in my sorrows…Drinking. Alcohol. Partying. And having a baby sitter to make it all possible (thanks April!)

Boat Night, it's what happens every year before the big sailboat race from Port Huron to Mackinac Island. The harbor was littered with boats, parked in rows of 3 along each side, expensive yachts and racing sailboats on one side, locals and visitors on the other. It stretched farther than the eye could see. Boats decorated with Christmas lights were cruising up and down the canal in between the parked boats, throwing beads and interrupting the perfect glisten of moonlight on the water. The air was crisp and cold, a constant breeze was coming from the lake. Everyone was bundled in sweaters and before the end of the night, they would undoubtedly peel off layers once the heat of drinking set in. We walked along the harbor, on a slim concrete walkway, packed with people coming and going in all directions. You had to be careful because there was no guard or fence to keep you from falling in the water, if you happened to get bumped hard enough (or if you got drunk enough).

We were meeting our cousins at this place called the Zebra Bar, located on the harbor. After what seemed like a mile of walking and pushing our way through the crowd, we were almost there, I could see the congested entrance ahead. At that moment, I looked over to the boats. It seemed as if all the cool and rich people were in the boats, while the rest of us were just walking around aimlessly, wishing we were special enough to be on a boat too. That’s when I saw my cousin. Oh yes, she was on a boat and hell yes we got invited on it!!! It is the only time that I have ever felt great about a completely obliterated drunk screaming at me to come join her party. I held on to a pylon attached to the walkway and jumped down onto the boat closest to the walkway. The boat teetered with my weight and luckily I didn’t fall off. I had to jump to the next boat, where my cousins were at, thankfully someone came up on the bow to hold out their hand for me to grab and hop over. I was immediately greeted by my drunk Cousin Stephanie and her husband Rob. Two people I didn't know got on the bow and started booty dancing to the blaring music of the boat next to us. I wasn’t drunk enough for this yet. So I made my way down into the boat, reunited with my other cousin Tracy and was immediately handed a Jello shot. Super! Then I was handed a beer…wait, liquor before beer…never….fear! Great, no getting sick for me. But geez, these people really wanted to get me drunk and quick! I decided it would be a good idea to play along, because I couldn’t handle feeling like the only sane person there. So a few beers later, I still wasn’t drunk, mostly because of the crazy drama that started happening. Tracy’s husband punched out some dude, the owners of he boat got pissed off at each other because the husband had some girl trying to kiss on him, Tracy’s husband punched some other guys lights out and a couple people almost fell in the water because they were too drunk to boat hop. Plus, I saw an ex on the boat beside of me, who was a complete rumor spreading ass in high school, he really wasn't someone I anticipated seeing.$ But it was fun for the most part, just being out there, seeing all the expensive boats and seeing family was really nice.

Saturday began with us watching the boats depart on their race to Mackinac Island. We watched from a small public beach with some family that came down to visit us. Then we went back to Dad’s and rode the 4 wheelers and grilled out. If there is one thing Caleb likes, it’s things that go “vroom vroom.” He too rode on the 4 wheelers and my Dad even took him for a spin on the riding lawn mower, which was by far the favorite. Hey, looks like we have a future lawn mower in the making! Sunday was pretty much the same we just relaxed. My dad has this contraption called “Redneck Horseshoes” which has two ‘goals made out of pipe. There are three tiers to the goal and the ‘horseshoes’ are two golf balls attached to each end of a 6” piece of rope. The object is to land a horseshoe on one of the tiers. Exciting stuff I tell ya.

Monday my sister April, Mom and I went to see April’s wedding venue. She is getting married next year at this beautiful golf course. Then we came home and shot guns. Yes Michigan can be just as redneckish as North Carolina. My dad has this huge valley, or gullie about a mile down from his property in the woods. Apparently it’s public hunting territory, so people shoot there regularly. I found that I am actually a pretty good shot, so I advise anyone thinking of breaking into my house to reconsider. If you get past my dogs, you won’t get past my awesome shooting skills!

Tuesday we left, it was raining and it felt quite somber, with the goodbyes and the long journey ahead of us. We were instantly greeted with the closure of a main highway we had to get on, but we optimistically decided not to get down about it, because we probably wouldn’t have anymore problems. Wrong. Right out of Detroit A.N.O.T.H.E.R. major highway was closed. This detour royally pissed us off. It took two gosh darned hours to get around it!!! And of course, the rest of the trip just sucked. Caleb was pissy this time, nothing appeased him. The Diary Queen we stopped at in West Virginia sucked ass. People stared at us like we were aliens and it took literally 30 minutes to get our order. Once we get into North Carolina, using our old atlas, we decide to take a cut through to jump over to a main highway we needed to be on. Why oh why didn’t I print out directions for the trip back, like I had for the trip there?! We ended up on some dark two-lane road, all the while, the sky is falling and we are wondering where the heck we decided to go. In front of me, going through a stop light are two cars that seemed to have hit an awful lot of water. A flood! Oh shit!!! There was literally no time for me to avoid it. I hit the flooded road and water came over my car in the same way it would on one of those water rides at an amusement park. I couldn’t see, I almost hit the car in front of me, and I felt the water tugging at my car. Luckily we made in out of the flooded area, but after that, I pulled over and let Mike drive. Luckily his pain killer had worn off by that time! Screw that. Not cool.

But luckily we made it back unharmed. I still have not unpacked the luggage from my car. I have not done an ounce of laundry and my house needs to be cleaned, bad. So much for resting tomorrow.
Congratulations. You have made it to the end. Feel free to take a nap before commenting :)

The most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me (with the stupidest outcome)

2007-07-17T20:53:00.000-04:00

I have never been so scared in my entire life, as I was last night. My husband had left after we put Caleb to bed, to go play pool (yes I am an awesome wife who lets him do these things often). Anyway, I knew he wouldn't be back until really late, so I decided to ~~blog~~ clean for a while, because it had to be done. By the time I get done cleaning, it was around 12am. I knew Mike would be back around 1am, so I decided to sit down on the couch and unwind. I had DVR'd Big Love, a series on HBO and felt like watching the latest episode. About 30 minutes into it, I fell asleep without even meaning to.

Then it happened. What I had always feared. You see, my living room is in the back of my house, with windows overlooking our back yard. I most always keep the blinds halfway up, because we face the woods, there are no homes behind us. So, I start to wake up out of the very deep sleep I had fallen into, because there was a loud noise. Before I even opened my eyes, I finally was able to realize the noise was my two (very large) dogs barking at something. It happened so quickly, that I don't know what happened first, but the moment I opened my eyes, I saw it. A person staring in the window at me, standing on my deck, with their face purposly looking into the window...at me. I swear to you I have never been more terrified in my entire life. I literally jumped out of my body, because by the time I had let out at least 3 gut wrenching screams, I still felt like it was a dream, I couldn't even feel my legs. But there was more screaming, and it wasn't me, it was the person in the window. All of a sudden, my body decided to find it's way back to me, the sudden collision made me realize that I was stupidly standing in my kitchen, holding my freaking throw like a child, sobbing and whimpering. I realized I wasn't even fully awake, I hadn't even been thinking, what the fuck was I doing just standing there?!? Then the person yelled at me and at that moment, it hit me. I knew that voice, but who would have come to my back deck, why were they back there..who......

Oh. Fuck. You've got to be kidding. Well those weren't my first thoughts when I finally realized it was MY HUSBAND staring at me through the window. It was more like utter humilation for acting like such an effing wuss and defeated steps toward the back door to let him in. That man had forgotten his keys, and instead of knocking on the front door like he normally does (or like any normal person married to an overly fearful woman would do), he decides to go to the back door for God knows what reason. What the hell did he think my reaction would be? I was still sobbing and shaking when he came in. I am sure he will get a good laugh out of that for years to come. I am such a moron. But it made me realize that I am not nearly prepared for intruders as I once imagine. You know, I hadn't even thought about the fact that my child could have been in danger? My first instinct wasn't to run to his room. That scares the hell out of me, I can only imagine though, if it hadn't happened while I was so knocked out, I would have reacted differntly. I didn't even fully wake up until Mike was inside for a few minutes. God it happened so fast and the sad part is that I can't see myself reacting any other way if it were to happen again while I was sleeping. Oh well. I am sure Mike won't be knocking on the back door again. Not after the way I acted.

So needless to say, I didn't get much sleep after that excitement. I had to be up super early and my alarm clock failed to go off. Either that or I was so tired that I hit off instead of snooze, but who cares. It's been one of those days. And now I have to go pack. Ugh. But tonight, I can assure you, my blinds will be closed.

I won't be blogging for about a week. My father lives in BFE and I get absolutely no internet connection there. See you next week!

Fun Monday-Show me your ride

2007-07-16T19:33:00.000-04:00

I should be packing for my trip right now. Well, let me back up for a minute. The reason I am not packing right now is because I have laundry to do. And the reason I am not doing laundry is because some force greater than my dwindling motivation to do laundry, has twisted my arm and forced me to come read everyone's blog. That being said, I noticed today on a few other blogs what seems to be a weekly event, known as "Fun Monday." I am not sure if this is reserved to a certain group of bloggers, but I figured what the hell, I will join in the fun. It's hosted by Tiggerlane. Here's the task: I wanna see your CAR! It can be your current car, the first car you ever had, maybe your first new car with that new-car smell, a car you wrecked once, or even the dream car you would drive - given all the money in the world! Oh - and if you have a truck, SUV, lawnmower, whatever the local authorities allow you to drive, let's see it!

It's no surprise to most of you what I drive now, it's a Chevy HHR. Anagramically speaking, as of today, HHR stands for "Heather's Hoopdie Ride." I am not sure that will stick, as I think it's quite nice compared to most cars I have had, so maybe it should be renamed to "Heather's Hot Ride." I don't know. Here is a stock photo, but it looks exactly like mine:

Mike has this obsession with rusty, useless cars. He traded a motorcycle helmet for this car, it's a Dodge Colt. It's his current 'project car' otherwise known as the human sized tuna can. But he says that they are rare in the US and that he will be able to beat the socks off any car that wants to race him once he gets it finished. Of course the nagging wife in me had to ask where the hell he thinks he's going to be racing that thing. He tells me at race tracks. Yeah. Right. I think I would have remembered getting 'fool' branded on my forehead. (Luckily it's a long way from being finished) This isn't his exact car (found it on google), but it looks pretty similar. Isn't it the ugliest thing you've ever seen?! (Note: The Picture Below Reflects Actual size)

And on to my very first car. I can't say it was really bad, because it wasn't. It was actually quite neat for someone who couldn't afford much. I have to tell you though, I wish it would have come in yellow. And not because I was picky, but because lemons generally aren't aqua. This car, my once loved and quickly hated Hyundai S-Coupe, nearly killed me. It decided to self destruct in the middle of the road, while I was driving probably way too fast, with cars trailing too close for comfort behind me. Everything went out, I couldn't even put it in neutral to roll the sucker out of the road. People were slamming on their brakes, yelling at me. It was one of the most humiating moments of my life. But her she is....except mine had a sunroof and some super classy designs on the side. Oh yes, that was sarcasm, just in case you missed it.

Hi, my name is Heather.

2007-07-15T08:55:00.000-04:00

Beware- Getting a new hair-do can produce many possible side effects. Symptoms are known to include: the inability stop starting at yourself in every mirror you pass, a heightened awareness of stragers checking you out, constant fidgeting and twirling of hair strands and in some cases, walking by windows and staring at your refection, instead of what's on the other side. If you experience any of these side effects, please do not consult your physician, as you may be experiencing what's known as "Great Hair."

It's like I am a drug-addict who has been a year without their fix. I had almost forgot what it felt like to have hair that was so fabulous, hair that is so...well, me. Now I am a junkie again. It's amazing what a little extra confidence will make you do. I feel like I could conquer the world now. Tell me why I waited so long to do this?! I went to this girl named Robin, who works at Salon 42 in Garner. I hadn't been to her for about a year because I always end up calling at the last minute and she is always booked (she was voted Johnston Countie's best hairstylist). So I ended up trying someone else, who was good, but didn't quite give me the edge I was looking for. Anyway, she was nice enough to squeeze me in-even though I hadn't been to her for a year. So I get my hair done and it looks like me, like a more fabulous, more ideal me. I haven't felt this way since the last time she cut my hair. Tell me why I stopped going to her? Never again. Never never never. I shall remain faitful to this scissor wielding pro forevermore. If you are in the area, you should definitely use her. She is surprisingly affordable, very nice, up on all the lates hair trends and techniques...need I say more? (919-772-4813=best hair ever)

Ok, so maybe I have been a little obsessed with myself lately. Hence the strange photos you see plastered on this post. But it's not all in vanity. You see, I haven't had a [working] memory card for my camera for a month now. Being so motivated and all yesterday, I finally dragged myself to the store to get one (only because I have the Michigan trip coming up..er....yeah). I also really like to mess around with photoshop, as you see. I am self taught, so I don't have an extensive knowledge of the program, but I think I do alright. Anyway, before I bore you to death (if that hasn't happened already) I would like to say that I promise, a more interesting, witty and well written post will be appearing soon. Most probably after I return from Michigan, which God willing, all 3 of us will, alive, a week from Wednesday.

Ism- It's what you do

2007-07-13T20:04:00.000-04:00

Isms. They are what defines us, what other people see as our quirks, our desires, our fears, the way we say things, our reactions...it's what gives us character. You simply add it to the end of your name: Heatherisms. Sure our isms might be shared by others, but no two isms are exactly alike when viewed in their entirety.

I started thinking about isms when I heard about something that really make my day, nay, my life. And it's so darn insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Last week, I heard that finally, finally one of my beloved television shows is being made into a movie. Sex and The City. I nearly wrecked my car trying to hit the non-existent rewind button on the radio to make sure I heard it correctly. (Thanks to DVR, I try to rewind everything now...even people) I think I have seen every season at least 10 times. Really. I haven't been this excited since I peeked in my Christmas presents last year! But whatever will I do with myself until it comes out presumably in 08'? It's kind of like LOST, the television series. I am 100% completely obsessed with that show and the new season doesn't start until February. I really don't know how I have made it this far. I have even considered hibernating (yes like a bear) to pass time quicker.

Another randomly weird thing that excites me is having everything perfect. You see, whenever I get something new, everything has to be perfect. As you know, I just got my new car. It's fresh, shiny and clean. So now my entire house has to be perfectly spotless and with a toddler, that is near impossible. All my clothes must be put away, not just washed and dumped in a basket to pick through, like I most always end up doing. No, now everything has to be hung up in the closet, organized by sleeve length. All my shoes are now arranged by style. My makeup has neatly been organized by shadows, blushes, brushes, foundations and powder. And since I am going to Michigan next week in my shiny new car, I too have to be perfect. Tomorrow I am going to get my hair done. It has been months since this has happened. And I have felt empty, unattractive, and plain ever since. But tomorrow I will be 'me' again. Next week I am going to get a manicure and pedicure. I have also considered slathering on sunless tanner so I am not so pasty white. I have even begun to alter my clothes so they fit me. Perfectly, of course. Even at work now, I have to be uber organized. I bought these Sharpie pens in pretty colors that I am have started addressing envelopes with. I have good handwriting when I want to, so now every envelope is a work of art. I feel like a machine, an obsessive compulsive maniac who's head will explode if one thing is out of line.

And then there's clothing...my sweet sweet passion. One of my most favorite times was when Mike and I had been dating for about a year. There was this lovely trendy (and pricey) boutique called Adria's in Cary. At the time, we had nothing to spend our money on besides each other, so he would come home and surprise me with presents from there. I still remember that elusive black box, generously wrapped with zebra ribbon and pink tulle...the box was almost as exciting as what was inside. That boutique has since closed down and now I can't afford to spend $300 on a dress, so my expensive addiction has been transformed to a more practical and less exciting version of my ideal wardrobe. I haven't recovered completely. I sometimes compare myself to a recovering alcoholic, because I could impulsively spending way too much on a Custo shirt just because I have extra cash in the bank, nevermind the fact that I have bills due. It's happened before. My husband is sensitive to this and understand how I have my 'withdrawals' so he will sometimes splurge on a purse, jacket or shirt for me that can't be found at your ordinary stores. Don't get me wrong, I love some Target and Ann Taylor Loft, but sometimes I just need my expensive fix. It's an ism that will never go away.

Fashion does not completely define me though. There are less feminine things that I enjoy immensely. I love playing video games. I am more old school, I prefer NES and SNES to PS3, but if it's a game that has a controller, I love it. I am kind of a big kid I guess. And I prefer camping to staying in a resort any day. No matter where. I sometimes imagine living in a hut on the beach, no electricity, just nature. I could do it and I would love it. Since I love to fish too, I could catch my dinner every day. I tell ya, I would do it in a heart beat if my husband would. I have even asked him if we could sell everything, buy a Winnebago and travel the USA for several years. He could make his living playing pool. If we got in a bind, I could always work at some seedy little bar...er...nope, never mind. Speaking of pool, I plan on picking that back up once Caleb gets older. I have to admit, I am pretty good at it. I would like to see what actual practice could do for my game.

If you are still reading this, I am truly amazed. I have found it surprising that even 1 person can successfully get through my long-winded ramblings and have enough energy left to comment. I understand the point of having a blog is to write about yourself and all, but I guess I never thought anyone would really be that interested. Is that an ism? I don't know. I don't know if any of the stuff I mentioned is really an ism. Suddenly, Alanis Morrisettes' "Isn't it Ironic" pops into my head. None of the things mentioned in the song are actually ironic. They are unfortunate, but not ironic. So if none of this is truly an ism, then it's just me. But is that not, in it's self, an ism?

2007-07-12T22:31:00.000-04:00

Yeah, you are at the right blog. No, I haven't hired a replacement to sit in and write for me. I simply do not have anything negative to say today! Amazing, huh! It's been a good day. Strangely, nothing great has happened though. But I am happy. I think it's because I just had crab legs, and my favourite salad from Lonestar for dinner. And Caleb was super lovey boy tonight too. I just love it when he crawls up on my lap, puts his little head on my shoulder, and just stays there. He's such a busy body and barely has time to love stinky ol' mom, so I get a little overly emotional when he shows me attention.

Right now, as I stuff the remaining portion of this McDonald's apple pie into my mouth, I am watching one of my new addictions-Ace of Cakes on the Food Network. It has totally inspired me. I have decided I shall attempt to make an amazing cake for Caleb's birthday (born on Halloween). After watching the show, it looks quite simple. I have always been a creative person, so I think I can pull it off. After I get back from Michigan I plan on making a practice cake. I will show pictures (as long as it's good). But you should check out that show, it's crazy what they can do with cake.

It's a Yin-Yang thing

2007-07-11T21:41:00.000-04:00

I can't help but think about this tiny trinket box my mother gave me when I was a teenager. It was a cheap little thing, from an adolescent jewelry store frequently found in malls. It was blue, adorned with pink rhinestones...and yin-yang symbols. I thought about this box, because one of my favorite things was the tiny yin-yang token that came inside. Sure, it was the most useless thing I owned, but I liked it. I guess I have always believed that everything has to have balance to survive, that for every good, there is a bad.

But today I say damn that little shoddy token and everything it represents. All I wanted was 24 hours of something good. Yes, I did get my new (to me) car today. And I have been on cloud nine since. But balance just had to come and stomp on the happy sand castle of a day I built. It came like a little kid, eager to flatten and destroy, without apprehension or reason. I guess you probably want to know what happened, huh. Well, my husband came home tonight with that look on his face...the "honey, somethings effed up, I hope you won't go bonkers, I am trying to be optimistic, can't you tell by my shiny smile" look. Thank God he wasn't driving my new car, otherwise I would have thought he wrecked it. But judging from the grease stains on his shirt and hands, I instantly realized, even though it wasn't my car, it was his car that made him have that look. Yes, his car decided to die today. On my day, my glorious happy day. The balance has prevailed. My grease stained white flag is waving. I have no more words. I am not even pissed off (thanks to balance). I am just aggravated.

But I will begrudgingly say that I am grateful it happened when it did. Because, let's face it, it could have happened yesterday. Heh, yesterday I would've been banging my head against the concrete driveway, crying and laughing hysterically at the same time.

Hey, anyone got a car they want to get rid of? :)

Don't drink the kool-aid...

2007-07-10T21:01:00.001-04:00

Can I just start this post on a happy note and say that I feel so welcome in the blogging world now! Thanks Amy (A family Story) for the traffic and the very nice comments...it gives me the warm fuzzies. Not to mention the uber spiffy award I got from her too. (Amy, really, you rock!!!) 5 lucky bloggers will be getting this award...well, once I actually know 5 bloggers well enough.

Now, let me tell you...the past 48 hours have been trying my patience, and I really feel sorry for anyone that has had to be around me. It all starts with my upcoming trip next week to Michigan. Our happy little trio is driving to there to visit my dad and his family. And of course, what starts to happen once we have a really really really long road trip ahead of us? My car (the dependable one of our two) starts acting up. So we decide it might be best to rent a car. But even with my nifty Realtor discount, we will be spending $200-$300 to rent a tuna can for a week. My husband's brilliant solution to help us save money? Spend $20k on a new car (it's funny how that works). I can't say I wasn't excited about it, because the last thing I want to do is possibly have to spend who knows how much to fix the now very unexciting car that I own. I mean, who wouldn't be thrilled about going out to pick out a new car? I'll tell you who, my happy blog reading junkies, ME.

I have never been a patient person. I am instant gratification all the way, when I have an idea in my head, it has to happen or I go crazy. So yesterday, when my husband randomly said that he was going to look at a car that he wanted buy right then and there, I was stoked. That's when this little bi-polar adventure began. Of course, he didn't get the car, the numbers just didn't work. I was disappointed and instantly started bugging him about going to look right then, but shortly after Mike's brother found a great deal on the Chevy HHR in the paper. So we decided we would go buy it in the morning, we both like them and for the money, it was really a good deal for us. We were really excited and I could barely sleep. That's when Satan said, hmmm...those Johnson's look awfully happy, I think I will go piss in their kool-aid.

Ready, willing and able. Cash in hand. You'd think these things would appeal to a car salesmen. Or maybe I just missed the memo. I am convinced they are secretly working with our kool-aid tainting Satan, or that they are possibly his evil spawn. I thought it should be quite simply actually, here's how it works in my mind: I go to a dealership and find a car I like. I give them my car to appraise for trading in, they tell me what the numbers work out to. If I don't like the numbers, we negotiate or they help me find something else that will work. But oh no. They were more than willing to let us walk right out the door without any sort of negotiating and they weren't even the least bit interested in helping us find something else! All we got is "We'll play around with the numbers and call you if we figure something out." Can I ask dumb question? Why the Hell can't they do that while I am there? Is this some kind of marvelous strategy they have, or are they all asphalt trotting rejects that don't know easy money when they see it? I tell ya, I have never felt more undesirable in my life. If these people don't want to take my money, who does? Ok, don't answer that.

But seriously, today, you could have pulled my toenails out and I would have been happier than having to be stuck at work while my husband was out looking at cars. It was pure torture. All I could think about was looking online for cars, talking about cars...I feel really sorry for the coworkers that had to put up with me. But finally, tonight after nearly giving up hope, one of those fools called us back. Just one. And we are going to give him our money tomorrow. See, that wasn't so hard. Why couldn't he have just done this in the first place...I would have bought it then too! Oh well. Whatever. I am so tired of it by this point that you could buy me a pinto and I wouldn't care. But luckily, I at least get one of those HHR's. It wasn't my first choice, but after I saw it, rode in it and thought about it, it became my first choice (for my price range of course). Let's just hope nothing happens in between now and then to screw this deal up, because it's quite likely that I will end up on the evening news if anything else happens.

On that note, I am going to bed. I all this mental hullabaloo has really worn me out, but I wanted to share my lovely day with you first. I will be back with pictures soon...Hopefully :

Monkey see, monkey do

2007-07-06T20:32:00.000-04:00

When I was little, I saw all the other kids doing things that I wasn't allowed to do. Of course, being the persistent child I was, I would ask my mom why I couldn't do what the other lucky kids were doing. I wasn't psychic, but I always knew what my mother would say to me. That one over-used phrase that I despised... "Well If they went and jumped off a bridge, would you jump off too?" I hated that response. I mean, you couldn't possibly compare wanting to watch MTV to jumping off a bridge. I would have sworn hell would freeze over before I could ever use that phrase and mean it. And today, on this blistering hot sunny day, hell did indeed freeze over. Well, almost.

You see, it's been one of those days. It pretty much started out with me realizing that I am weird. Or actually socially inept...get me in front of someone I don't know, and I freeze up like snot on an Eskimo's nose. So, I had to go to a closing for my coworker, who was on vacation. I had met his clients briefly on two different occasions, each time we never said much to each other, but we had corresponded via email just fine. Well, today I had to be with them for an hour. And their mortgage broker and the sellers agent...the only people that halfway knew each other in the room were me and the clients. You can imagine, it was like a morgue. Except we were breathing. The mortgage broker tried to make small talk, he told me he saw my boss the other day. I jokingly said "Oh, well lucky you" but it came off more snide or dryly sarcastic than funny. At that moment I felt hopeless and stupid. I decided it would be best to keep quiet the rest of the time, because I obviously couldn't communicate very well. When the closing finally wrapped up, I realized that the worst was yet to come...the walk out. We were on the 3rd floor, which meant we had to walk down one long hallway, go down a painfully long elevator ride and walk out of the lobby, where we would say our extremely awkward good byes and thank-yous. Then, I was free, free from stumbling words and ungraceful gestures. I cursed myself on the ride back to the office for being so shy and weird. Ugh. I really am my own worst enemy.

So the rest of the day was pretty boring, but when I left the office, it started sucking again. I stopped at a gas station on the way home and realized I left my purse at work. So I pulled away from the pump to go all the way back to work, while everyone else was happily pumping their gas, probably wondering what on earth I was doing. So I finally got my purse and went back to the same gas station. I am pretty frustrated at this point and just ready to get home. I step out onto the stained concrete, shut my door and then, I look up, and there is a girl...smoking...at the gas pump next to me. She wasn't pumping the gas, but she was cheerfully chatting with a lady fueling her car. My heart kinda fell in my stomach for a split second, because you never really see someone stupid enough to attempt smoking at the pump. Sure, most of the time, you probably won't blow yourself up...but that doesn't mean it's a good idea. Since I was in a hurry, I didn't pay too much attention. I just tried to pump my gas as quickly as possible, while little ol' Sally over there was puffing away on cigarette smoke and gas fumes. Then something funny happened. A guy pulled up behind me and got out of his white truck. I wasn't really looking at him, but I heard him pause in his tracks. Then I heard him speak...he was telling the happy stupid smoking girl that she shouldn't smoke at the pump. He told her there were gas fumes in the air, it would make us go boom. He even used the hand gesture for boom, if you can imagine what that would look like.

And then she spoke. I am not sure if it was the less than mediocre day I was having, or the fact that I was pissed off that I didn't say anything to her myself, but what she said really chapped my ass. This girl, who was probably in her very early 20's heedlessly told the concerned 'boom' man that "You'd be surprised how many people smoke at the pump. I am always out here cleaning up a bunch of cigarette butts, I smoke by the pump all the time, it's fine!" All the while, she was ignorantly smiling, puffing away, ashing on the dried up gas stains. I hadn't realized that she actually worked at this gas station! To my surprise, again he said, "We could all go boom!", not failing to use the same hand gesture as before. The happy stupid gas station worker girl casually and carelessly responded, "I know, I know, but it's really ok, I do it all the time!" Then she turned back around to resume talking to the woman pumping the gas. I think the crickets were chirping extra loud at that moment. Me and the man both just stared at each other in amazement. This is the moment when hell started to freeze over. I almost said that phrase that my mom and every other mom in the world inevitably uses. And I really would have meant it. But I didn't say it. I just got into my car, and got the hell out of there before I had the chance to get blown up. I was fuming (no pun intended) on the way home. HOT I tell ya. Is it really ok to put everyone else's lives at risk, just because your dumb enough to think something is ok, when HELLO, it's not ok? Does that mean we should all speed down the highway at 100mph? Sure, it may not kill you the first 20 times you do it, but all it takes is one time and you kill yourself and possibly others. Why are people idiots? As my old boss used to say "People amaze you, huh Heather." It's true, they do. I really wanted to take that girl by the shoulders and give her a good shaking. But instead, I think I will call her manager and tell them why I will never go to their gas station again. I hope karma gets her. I hope the next time she goes to a restaurant, that the person preparing her food doesn't wash their hands after using the restroom. Because hey, it probably won't kill her...people do it all the time ;)

Look! It's a virgin! (Just don't sacrifice me please)

2007-07-05T23:09:00.000-04:00

I would like to be perfectly honest. It has taken me three effing days to start this blog. The good news is, it shouldn't take me nearly as long to get an appointment with a therapist. I am sure they would tell me I am perfectly normal though. I mean, a blog name is a pretty important thing. Until tonight, every thought I had was consumed with what I should name my blog. And every clever thing I came up with was already taken. You can imagine my frustration. But tonight marked the night my blog would be created.

Pre-blog creation, I was talking to my friend Jennifer and I asked her what I should name it. She came up with whore, hooker, bitch...yes, at that moment, I felt really good about myself. While listening to her ramble off ridiculous names, I stumbled upon thesaurus.com. I typed in dandy (because that's how I felt). I happened to see shabby pop up. And then, there was shibby shabby. I don't really know how or why it popped into my head, but it did, and I kinda liked it. I asked Jennifer what she thought it meant, and she really didn't know, she said shabby chic. So I googled it. Since I didn't find anything perverse or terribly negative, I decided to roll with it. Bam! Blog created.

And then more aggravation. Options. Settings. I have never seen so many of these things. It's definitely not like myspace. It has taken me a few hours just to figure out how to post and now I am tired. This blogging stuff is exhausting. I just hope that I will find my way back here tomorrow...