Four gals, three bottles of wine and four episodes of Sex in the City.
Cigarettes and chit chat on the back porch.
Strawberry shortcake, graham crackers and Nutella, and wheat thins.
Chocolate sorbet.
Charlotte, Carrie, Samantha and Miranda
Jenn, Heather, Eleanor and Amy

Sometimes, what we fear can get in the way of what we know we ought to do.

Today is
"What I love about My Friends" Day on the Goddess Blog.
I'll start out with a couple, but feel free to fill up the comment box with some of your own.

Eleanor- "Sweeeeet Caroline... Buh buh buh..."
Caryn- Co Sex In the City Fanatic.
Sketti- has me on the "family" section of her buddy list.
Jenn- didn't hold me to the Man Sabbatical.
Amber- let me take a picture of her in granny panties (we were 15).
Jeanne- "Wow, Heather. You have a cute butt!"

*note* sarcastic comments are not only tolerated...they're anticipated.

Welcome home, Sketti!

My sister is awesome. America Online placed this ad online... and she has this to say about it:

corporate geek: im emailing aol to tell them that theyre pretty stupid if a 15 year old girl who almost failed sophomore english can catch a gramatical error upon first glance of a page trying to promote a product...
corporate geek: and people get paid to mess up?
corporate geek: i dont understand

Need help picking out the error??

corporate geek: look in the conversation box thing

“There’s an old saying that you should marry a girl from Texas, because no matter how tough things get, she’s tougher.” --Dan Rather

And don't he know it. Yee-haw.

This Week's Plug

Some of you will remember when I plugged Leah Siegel
With lyrics like...
I'll let you change my mind any day
and I'm a stubborn bitch, babe
so you know this is big
I'm this close to losing my shirt
But with you I think I can
probably stand it. (ls)
...Leah speaks my language and in a voice that could melt body armor.

Well, take Leah's lyrical abilities and vocal prowess, take her folksy-bluesy style and add some kick-ass rock rhythms, and you have this week's muscial plug:
Dana Mier.
Her song "False Hope" was something of a 'woman scorned' diary entry that got dragged up on stage and exposed to a crowded room at the Paradise Rock Club. Just goes to show, there's nothing like exploiting a broken heart.
And her band, well, they're no let-down either! With Tom on guitar, Mike on bass, and Jonathan on drums, even had they been on their own, they could have provided ample talent, energy and entertainment. It was a show with music that moves your body and lyrics that move your mind.
And though, no, fellas, you probably won't be digging the exposed, innocent (and sometimes, not so) musings of this petite songstress, her anything-but-petite version of the Stones' "Paint it Black" might just do it for you. And if that doesn't do it, she's cute... and blonde. That work? ;)
So, anyway, check out her site. Buy a CD. And not just 'cause I told you to (though, that should be a good enough reason, eh?) but 'cause it's a good for ya. Like milk. Anyway, save the music. Love and hugs and stuff.
That is all.

I know this is a re-post but as another workweek approaches, it feels like a big AMEN.

playin dress-up

If I put on smarter shoes
And stop
Biting my nails
If I stand up straighter
And stop
Saying “whatever”
Then
Will you take me
Seriously?

‘Cause with you,
it’s like playin dress-up
trying to
fit in this space
Made more for a grown-up

Am I
acting my age?

If I balance my checkbook
And stop
Buying “Vogue”
If I laugh at your lame jokes
And stop
Saying F*ck
Then
Will you let me
be one of you?

‘Cause with you
it’s like playin dress-up
I’m not
One of the kids
And not part of you

Am I
Missing my self?

Am I missing myself?
Cause you’re not the answer
Missing myself
You're a distraction; work’s just a job
Am I Missing myself?
I’ll take a vacation
Forget playin dress-up; it’s not fun anymore.

So, kids... I think that for my birthday, I'm going to pierce my belly-button. (I hear my mother gasping all the way from London, and see her shaking her head in disapproval.)

There is only one deterrant to this whole piercing spectacular... and that is... pain. It's going to hurt. But, a lot though? Please tell me it won't.

I think, sure, there is pain involved. But that is true with anyone. And when it's all said and done, I'll have a little bellybutton ring with Sterling Silver's good looks and my sense of style (I hope).

Anyway... if you recognize that twisted quote, you get a dollar.
Love 'n' hugs 'n' stuff.

I love it when my friends are giddy and gushing about prospective dates (and kitties, of course...but mostly dates). As big of a pain as they are, boys are pretty nifty.
My sister, Goik, refers to boys who may, or may not be your boyfriend but have some romantic significance, as Boy Things. I LOVE it. Boy Things. It establishes their significance without giving them too much credit or heart-breaking potential.

woo-wee! comments that work!

Screw the diet! Well, for today anyway. I want INDIAN FOOD and I want it now.

Have a look-see at my new tagboard! And write something good. The world is watching!

Caryn is a spy. Shhhhh! It's a secret.

I'd just like to say, that this girl, Ravenwolf (whoever she is), is super-duper paranoid when it comes to her boyfriend. I guess I shouldn't tease and bait her on Caryn's tag board... but if she didn't make it so damn easy and sooo much fun... I wouldn't bother. I'm sure he's a nice guy... but reeeeally. I'm not going to steal her boyfriend over the internet for god's sake.

Momentous day. I had to order new pants. I un-grew out of the standards, and although, I'll probably put all the weight back on in the winter, it's nice to be without it now. Even if it means having to shop. Oh, the horror.

I haven't been posessed by any deep, brooding thoughts in a very long time, and thus, haven't had anything inspiring to write about. It's an odd exchange... giving up inspiration for feeling passive and content. Must be the season. Can there be any other explanation? The sun comes out and suddenly, things just aren't so mightily important. I even sent the bills late this month! We'll have to fix that one, but still. It's an interesting phase to be in, and so I'll enjoy it for what it is.

Oh, and joy of joys... when I left work last night, it was to discover that Anna had two parking tickets on her car. Oh, the simple pleasures.

If you linked to Eleanor's blog from here...and then to Will's...and wrote something on his comments...

First: You are funny as hell.
Second: Please email me! I want to know who you are!

That is all.

Today, I'm going to talk about Anna, the most awful person in the world to work with. Yes, the very same Anna who is pregnant, and defying the laws of nature by carrying the child in her ass.
She doesn't even look at me when I speak to her. She tries to weasil any little projects I get away from me. She turns off the heat because her hormones make her hot...even though we are all freezing. She steals the flowers from the front desk. She takes my scissors (because anyone with less than 3 pair must be somehow deficient), and when I ask to have them back, she says, "Oh, these are mine. You'll have to find some new ones." Uh huh. So, I get new ones. And they disappear. Does she not notice she now has 4 pair? This sounds silly, but MY GOD. I, being the smart ass, ask for them back. "These aren't yours." "Yeah, they are. See the red Sharpie mark on the right handle?" "Well, you must have left them out, then." Oh, sweet lord... where do people like her come from?!
I stopped saying good morning to her. Or even glancing at her when we pass in the hall. I don't ask about the ass-baby. I just stopped trying to be nice. I've even started being mean. I learned the fine, fine art of being snyde in my teenage years. Back then, I practiced on my family.
And now, it's her turn.

After work yesterday, I ate half a pan of brownies.
Then, got sick, sick, sick (not a result of the brownies. a girl who can eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's in one sitting is no lightweight when it comes to this kind of thing)...and puked those brownies right up. Pleasant, huh? Well, my point is, I broke even. That means, I can eat more brownies today... hee hee.

Nora interviewed with a zoo today.
Joyce cut her hair off and dyed it dark pink.
Jason re-wrote a sappy poem into a tale of the devil. Very funny.
Audrey is going to Yale.
Mom is off in London.
Dad is going to his reunion in California.
I am going crazy with boredom here at work...

It is interesting to observe how quickly we jump to burn a bridge, rather than to simply wait for the water to flow under it.

Florida was awesome! Ok, so it rained a lot... that was fine once you got it into your head that it wasn't going to be sunny out. Playing in the ocean is much more thrilling when you're afraid that you're going to get struck by lightening.

A big shout out to my new friend, George, the Giant Sea Turtle. Man, SHE (turns out, boy turtles don't leave the ocean) was pretty cool. Have you ever seen a turtle as big as a your dining room table? Have you petted her flippers and annoyed her as she 'ran' back into the ocean? Well... I have! It was great.

And, please take a look at the nifty banner on Caryn's page. I wonder who could have made something so cool. Hmmmm....

Tomorrow I will be in Florida.

Last night, Nora and I got a sugar craving that resulted in brownies. From scratch. Yes, I'm quite proud that I didn't screw them up...as I seem to have left every single one of my "Miss Heather Homemaker" skills at BYU.
Today, Mike B at work said, "You've been awfully quiet lately, Heather. You must have a love interest." Bwahahahahah...what the two have to do with one another, I didn't quite know until he said, "You're just staring off into space, imagining running through fields of daisies, holding hands." Ummm...yeah. Either that, or the fact that my job is so entirely boring that I've become semi-catatonic... Sadly, it is the latter.
I have been playing a bit in photoshop lately and designed a new logo for my page. Check it out.
Ok, zat's zat. Have a good one. See ya Monday.

If today were tomorrow, I could be saying, "Tomorrow I will be in Florida."
And it will be raining there. But let's not talk about that.

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

Today has been strange.
Some of you will remember when, a few months back, Freddy, the Puerto Rican Freakshow, spent an entire day, dialing my number over and over. He'd leave messages, one after another if I refused to pick up the phone. Or, he'd stay on the line and insist he'd seen me naked, the few occasions I'd been brave enough to answer and demand he stop calling.
Today was phone stalker day again. And it didn't really hit me until PRIVATE NUMBER had appeared on the LCD screen six or seven times that, this was my cell phone ringing every 2 minutes. The Freddy Calls had been to my land line.
This caller wanted to know why I hand't answered his email and why I didn't want to call him back. He didn't leave messages. I did get a strange email the other day. From someone I'd never heard of. AT MY WORK email address. No one I don't know should have that. The same with my cell phone number.
I'm not actually afraid--my insticts tell me that the two could hardly be connected...and that the cell phone calls may simply be a misdial...every two minutes..for an hour and a half. (Lightweight! Freddy lasted a good five hours. Well, in all fairness to him, I DID turn the cell phone off, so he may have kept at it.)
The police couldn't help with Freddy and they can't help with new Cell Phone Stalker Boy (no name was given this time). Have your service provider trace his calls, they tell me and then the phone company can send a report to them. But the dispatcher was kind enough to tell me that even then, there's not much they can do. Did I feel threatened, she asked me. Well, no, not really.
So, I sit here at home, by myself, the windows open and shades drawn up to let in the cooler air, and I'm not even really afraid. Should I be? This is just too weird for words. This happens to famous people. Or really beautiful people. Weird indeed. Not as scary as it is strange.
Still, I wish Nora would come home.