This may explain a lot…

So–when I came across the image below, I instantly thought that were I to ever be dumped again (ha ha ha, like that isn’t pretty darn likely!) I would send the boy this picture:

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Not that I’ve ever been “thrown out” of anywhere (other then Denny’s once for singing the Beastie Boys’ “Paul Revere” while standing on the chairs…but that’s a whole different thing.)  I’m much more experienced in the “hey, that guy I’ve been dating, sleeping with, etc….haven’t seen him. I could call….but what if we broke up. I’d hate to hear that.” type of break up.

I have it on the authority of a friend —a MARRIED friend— that my kitty picture would probably do the trick and lead to a long relationship.  YES!  I’m thinking I might want to find the guy before I plan how to thwart him breaking up with me.  But when the universe (or an lolcat website) sends you signs, you best pay attention to them!

I’m just saying……


AHC Day 22!

Is it me, or is this month going fast?


Today’s happiness is brought to you by Ear Injury.  She is a friend of mine and if you say her name really fast it sounds like you are saying “ear injury” 🙂  She and I went to dinner last night and had a grand time.  Time spent with her is always grand, even when we both worked at our previous job (where few things were grand, other then the time spent woth co-workers!) She is much younger then me, but has got her stuff together.  We can have ridiculous conversations where we laugh so hard we cry, or in depth conversations where we figure out all kinds of things.  She rocks!

All of my friends are the source for most of my happiness in life, be they girlfriends, fuzzy friends or furry friends. I’m a lucky, lucky girl to have the friends I have, lucky, lucky, lucky!

Life is a strange and wonderful thing

Throughout my life I have had many pets. The first one I really remember was Muffin, the big ass tom cat that we didn’t know was a boy when we got him. He hated his name and went out at night and (I imagine) got in fights with the neighborhood cats that would tease him about it. He dropped many a dead bird on my baby yellow gingham bedspread and I knew he loved me. He ran away when the man who would become my Mother’s second husband moved into the house with his cat. Muffin wasn’t one to share.

In what could be thought of as a bookend to that portion of my life was D’arby. He was named after Terrance Trent D’arby and I got him around St. Patrick’s day, so it seemed like a perfect name–my love for my Irish ancestry is always coming up in odd ways. Anyway, I got D’arby when he was a tiny kitten and he was one of the best cats I ever knew. He was very much like a puppy, he followed me around and came when I called, etc…. He got very sick as a kitten and we had to feed him baby food and put him in the freezer for a few minutes at a time to try to get his fever to go down. Yes—the vet TOLD us to put him in the freezer. I had him for about 4 years, from 7th to 11th grade. In many ways, looking back, he was the highlight of this time in my life. Living with my stepfather was less then fun a lot of the time and without airing all sorts of dirty laundry, it was a very bad scene. But I always had D’arby. Well, I had him until my Mother finally left her husband and we moved to a place where we couldn’t have a cat. I don’t remember being sad about this. I don’t remember my emotions during this time much at all. I was numb throughout a lot of it. In survival mode. Using all the energy I had to just make it through. So we gave D’arby to a woman in my mom’s office. Not one of my favorite people, but she would take good care of him, etc… I never saw him again and it was years before I even asked the woman about him. Occasionally she would tell a story or something to my mom and in turn, my mom would tell me. D’arby turned 20 years old a few weeks ago. TWENTY! I can’t imagine him as the old cat that he inevitably had become. He was stuck in my mind as a silly grey and white kitten who was sitting in the freezer and would wake me up by licking my ears. I found out today that D’arby was put to sleep this past weekend. When my mom told me I felt a chill. I hadn’t laid eyes on that cat for 16 years, but he was still mine in my mind and now he was gone. I got home and gave my furry friends extra attention and made them promise, once again, to never get sick or die 🙂 They seemed alright with that.

In keeping this happy train rolling, my Dad visited my grandma today. She is 96 and every day she wakes up is a true miracle. Up until very recently she has been in good health. She can’t keep things straight and doesn’t get around much, but for all intents and purposes, is in fine shape. She never remembers my Dad, which is hard for him and sad for me to hear. She always remembers me though. She will eventually figure out who my Dad is by saying “Oh–you’re Heather’s father!”

Today she was asking how my twins were as well as the twins of my friend Erin. are. Well, I have no children and Erin (while pregnant) isn’t pregnant with twins (that we know of!) She also only met Erin a couple of times, even though I have known her since I was 5, the most recent time being almost 7 years ago at Christmas. However, in the mind of Bernice…there was a whole story line involving Erin, myself and our two sets of twins. Apparently Erin was married to a doctor (which was true the first time she was married, but not now) and I didn’t like him much (eh…also true I guess) but that wasn’t stopping me from visiting her at the hospital (which would TOTALLY be true) It’s these nuggets of clarity in my Grandma’s odd ramblings that kill me. You can almost convince yourself that her mind is almost like it used to be….almost. She has pneumonia right now and truly is not going to be with us much longer (although we’ve been saying this for some time now)

I hate that my children (should I have any) will never know her. Even now, she and I have a special bond. I used to spend all my summers with her on South Padre Island in Texas. We had so much fun it was insane. She always kept my nails painted—something my mom wasn’t so keen on. Christmas 2005 I visited her and noticed her fingernail polish was chipping (I guess people from the local beauty school come and do their hair and nails) and I asked if she wanted me to paint her fingernails for her. Her response, the first coherent thought of the visit was “Only if you’ve gotten better at that then you used to be. There was usually more polish on your fingers then your nails.” My Dad and I died laughing and I think at that moment I decided THAT was how I was going to remember her. That would be my final memory of a woman that played such a huge role in my life. So when I hear the crazy things she says, or the health problems she is having, it’s like they are some other person….and it makes it that much easier.

Um ok–this was kind of a bummer. But I didn’t mean to be. I’d like to think it is a celebration of life and the people and creatures that come in and out of it. These beings that love you unconditionally and make you who you are today. Life’s short, even though it can seem so long. So don’t miss out on things or think there will be another chance….because there might not be. On that note, if anyone wants to join me for lunch next Monday, I will be having corn nuggets in the presence of my redneck crush and he will be mine (as long as he’s working that shift of course 🙂 )

Funny comes when you least expect it

So, I was trolling myspace (what else should a gal with a wicked cough and no desire to leave the house be doing?) and came across this comment on a friend’s page:

married life is just how i expected it to be………….more t.v. watching and less sex.
thank god for cable and expensive sheets or i’d be getting a divorce.

I don’t know the person who left the comment, but I think I love them. They have expressed my deepest fears about marriage, my love for good sheets and cable and a snarky attitude in two brief lines.  Genius I say, genius.

I’ve spent this weekend at home, doing nothing but coughing and sleeping. My furry friends are tired of being around me and I can’t say that I blame them.  Currently the new Kimora Lee Simmons show is on my TV for at least the 4th time (thank god for a new episode tonight!) and the MTV gods took pity on me and had a “The Hills” marathon yesterday. Wow, re-reading that makes it sound even more pitiful then it really is–WHATEV!

My illness coincided with some pre-paycheck poverty, so there’s my silver lining.  All this time with non-humans has given me time to think about the humans that are in my life.  I came across this quote the other day and it rings so true in so many ways;

There are two ways of spreading the light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
— Edith Wharton

I tend to think I am the mirror.  Being the candle would seem to be outside of my area of expertise.  I’m just not the burning bright for all the world to see type.  However, I like to surround myself with candles.  Creative people who live lives I will never understand, but enjoy watching.  Young, vibrant people who are so open to new experiences that it makes me smile to just think about them. Quiet, thoughtful types who can be the craziest people I know. Heck, I even know a cool ass accountant…I mean really, how can I compete with that?!?!?

So I will be happy with my status as a mirror. I wish that some of the people in my life could see themselves through my mirror. These amazing folks who live their lives as they want, have fears and hopes and dreams, and from time to time need a little encouragement to let their “freak flags” fly (and some need encouragement to put their’s away 🙂 ) But I know this, we are all creative people on this planet.  Living life takes creativity.  Getting through life basically happy takes TONS of creativity. So to anyone out there who thinks they are not creative….and YES, I’m talking to you….get over it.  You are incredibly creative.  You have a voice that we all want to hear.  You have a point of view that will make us all better people to know about. You have reverse body dysmporphic  disorder—and that rocks 🙂

Ok–kind rambly. I blame the phlegm.


It has been said that confession is good for the soul. So until some university gets a bazillion dollars to study this and prove it wrong (while people are dying of diseases and such) I will stick with random confessions.

For the record, my idea of a confession is to tell the world (or whoever will listen) about things that either I am not proud of, am afraid of, or simply don’t make me very cool.  (In general I don’t know that I am very cool, so in theory everything I say is a confession?  oh hell, I’m rambling now).

My confessions for August 1, 2007:

  1. I enjoy massive disasters.  Well, I don’t know that enjoy is the right word. I become obsessed with the terrible things that happen in this world.  Perfect example; the bridge that collapsed in Minneapolis today.  I saw the headline on and I felt my heart race.  I ran into the living room and turned on the TV.  I watched for a good hour, the same footage, over and over. When the Oklahoma City Bombing happened, I took a day off work.  Granted, I used to live there and had friends downtown, etc….but still.  September 11, don’t even get me started!  I think it’s an illness.  I tell myself that it is like walking around when you have a cramp in your calf, it hurts a lot at first, but then it gets sort of numb.  Perhaps I think that if I watch all the horrible things that go on in the world, I will be more prepared when something happens to me, or maybe I will just have a better perspective on things?  Who knows.
  2. Sometimes I think I want to be a redneck.  Wait…that sounds weird.  Ok…bottom line, I find myself attracted to redneck boys.  There.  I like the truck driving, beer drinking, stripper bar going,boob obsessed, questionably educated, loud, harsh country boys.  I can’t get enough of them sometimes. I know there is no sort of relationship to be had, I am way too bourgeoisie —-yep, I’m uppity too.  But the thought of being curled up next to a warm boy who smells of beer and cigarettes in the bed of his truck in the middle of nowhere and not giving a shit that there is a gun rack in the cab or that he very well might have voted for W (if he voted at all) seems nice. We wouldn’t be bogged down with conversation, just lots of making out, etc…..
  3. I bought 3 boxes of cereal at the grocery store today.  I did this knowing full well that I had 4 boxes in the cupboard at home.
  4. I’m obsessed with myspace.  Yep, I’m a tad too old.  Yep, I’m a total voyeur. But come on now, how flippin’ awesome is it to be able to see how groups of friends overlap?  How about musical tastes….important things to find out about people.  The random layouts and shit that people put on their profiles….VERY informative.  Being able to look at pictures of people you kind of know or want to know better…HELL YEAH!  It’s kind of a good thing that I don’t have access to it at work….I can look up porn, but not myspace….since I would waste even more ridiculous amounts of time on it. I do, however, sometimes wish, that I had myspace friends who would leave me nasty pictures or questionable humor comments.  It goes back to my not so secret love for the rednecks I guess.
  5. I can eat almost a full bag of reduced fat Ruffles (they aren’t as greasy and are more ‘potato-y’, it’s not a health thing) and a full container of Publix’s Black Bean Cheddar dip within 24 hours.  Hell, who am I kidding, 12 hours!  I will eat it for “dinner” and then “breakfast.”  I’m sick, truly sick…..
  6. I check my blog stats a million times a day.  Ok, that’s an exaggeration ( I exaggerate also!) But I check them alot!  I also check on blogs that I make comments on to see if there has been a response to a comment I’ve made.  For example, I made a comment on a blog today of a person that I am FREAKISHLY fond of and their response, which was 4 letters and an emoticon…made me smile so hard for so long that my cheeks hurt. Yes, I need constant reassurance, but it really takes so so little 🙂

OK–that’s all the confessing I have in me for today.  I’m tired.  I need to go read some more Harry Potter and my dog just rolled off the bed in his sleep.  Should be an interesting night 🙂

I fear for my possible, future, purely theoretical children.

I don’t think I would/will be a very good mother.

This epiphany came to me last night at 2 AM (so would that actually be this morning?) when my beloved Noodle pulled his leash off the counter and dropped it on my sleeping head.  Of course, I screamed when it hit me…but once I opened my eyes and looked at him….I couldn’t be mad.  He tilted his furry little head and blinked his eyes and made his ears perk up as though to say “Why so loud…let’s go for a walk!” Instead of ignoring him, turning the lights back off and going back to sleep…..I played with him.  We played fetch and tug and then he just started licking me uncontrollably. Who needs sleep when you have a frisky 9 month old puppy to play with?

Since I was COMPLETELY awake at this point I started to think about how  the way I take care of Noodle might be a terrible indication of how I would be as a mother. Yesterday evening, for example, I took him to the dog park.  His girlfriend Lexi was meeting there, with her mom Ear Injury. He ran around and played quite a bit until Lexi got there, then he was all about her.  He got super dirty and tired out after an hour or so.  I packed his dirty butt up and we drove home.  Sure…the dog park is all about wearing him out, but I probably shouldn’t let him fall asleep in the car. But darnit–he’s so darn cute when he sleeps with his chin on the emergency brake! Then we got home and he immediately got a bath, followed by blow dried fur (he was SO fluffy) followed by some Lavendar and Chamomille powder (so he smelled super good). All of this was for me.  Sure, he could’ve used a bath, but the blow drying and powder was all for me.

He had his kibble and then fell asleep….at like 8:45!  I should have kept him up. But he was all clean and fluffy and snuggled up on my clean white comforter with his head nestled in my blue pillows.  He looked so cute.  I tried to get him to go outside to do his biz before I went to bed, but he just rolled over on his back, yawned, stretched and fell back asleep.

I know I’m in charge here….but why wake the poor dear up…just to avoid my sleep being distrubed later?  That seems selfish, no?

It seems so much different having a dog then it does to have cats.  Cats are like adopted children who are totally aware of their place in the world.  They are not too demanding, get affection when THEY want it and have very few expectations of you in general–other then feeding and litter box changing.

Dogs are so needy.  But their love seems so unconditional.  Every time you walk in the door it’s like you’ve just gotten back from war. With Noodle he licks my nose right after I turn the light off at night and when the alarm goes off in the morning. He doesn’t want to miss a second of time with me when I am home.  So, in turn, I spoil him. I blame potty accidents on myself (if I had come home right after work instead of Happy Hour–he wouldn’t have done it.) I rationalize him eating and chewing anything that falls on the floor… can he tell the difference between a chew toy and my prescription glasses?

So, now I figure that all this justification and excuse making for my dog will be how I would raise a child.  Luckily I have decided that there is no way I would have a kid without a strong father in the picture—I’m not that liberated—and hopefully he could be the voice of reason.  Yeah….with the guys I’m attracted to that’s not bloody likely.

Perhaps I should give up the idea of children now and become the crazy cat lady, with one, very spoiled, incredibly cute and slightly misbehaved dog.

Happy Anniversary to Me!

Seven years ago today I became an official resident of Nashville.  I moved into my little apartment with only a bed, a TV, a stereo, 2,000 CDs, an air mattress and a lawn chair.  It was the scariest and most exciting thing I had ever done.  I had no job.  I knew no one.  I had enough money to live for about 2 months. The first few days were exciting.  The next couple of months were terrible.  Then I started to make friends. I had a job that was paying the bills nicely. I went out more–which is good since my apartment was way more ghetto then I had noticed moving in and the shootings and drug busts seemed to happen in the late evening and were all cleaned up by the time I got home.

I fell madly in love, not with a person, but with my city.  The place I had decided to make my home felt more like my home then any place I had ever lived.  The first time I flew back to L.A. I was almost sick at the thought of leaving.  I remember being at the Cleveland airport waiting for my connecting flight and the gate next to mine was a flight to Nashville and I just wanted to get on it and go home!  I missed my L.A. friends and my mom terribly….but it simply wasn’t home any more.

In the past 7 years I have laughed more and cried more and learned more then in the 26 years before. I have met the most amazing people. I have made the most wonderful friends.  I have stayed in touch with my L.A. friends (something I’m quite proud of!) and have even shown them the wonders of Nashville and they too, have quite a crush on this city of mine. I am still dumbstruck at the natural beauty of this area. 

I  love the creativity that seems to permeate the air. I love the fact that on Sundays, it feels like a very small town, it’s so quiet and slow and lovely. I love the smell right after a big thunderstorm. I love the smell of the air when you cross the state lines (the air in Tennessee is just sweeter…I don’t know why!) I love that I can eat corn nuggets at a meat and three and thai food on the same day. I love sitting in Centennial park and reading. I love seeing indie movies at the Belcourt and drinking fair trade coffee at Fido. I love knowing that macaroni and cheese is a vegetable and that sushi is great fried.  I love to sit on the patio at Jackson’s and drink vodka tonics with my friends AND my dog. I love the country boys in pick-ups and the rocker boys in black. I love popsicles from Las Paletas and sweet potato fries from Bobbie’s Dairy Dip.  I love that I “rescued” all three of my pets…..but I know that they actually rescued me. I love Thirsty Thursday at Greer Stadium. I love being able to hear the cannon when the Titans score a touchdown. I love hearing a song on the radio and know that the artist was at the table next to me the night before. I love being an 8 hour drive away from Chicago. I love being a half hour drive from the middle of nowhere. I love tomatoes in late July and shephard’s pie at Family Wash in late January. I love being able to walk into Corner Bar and have my drink ready for me before I sit down. I love that we now have a Sephora AND multiple places to get good fish tacos. I love pupusas at Las Americas and the accessories at Pangea. Really, the list goes on and on and on……

I can’t believe it’s been 7 years.  Somedays it feels like I just got here and other days it feels like I’ve lived here my whole life.  I’ve had a pretty transient life, but I now know that I have found my home and that is a very re-assuring fact.

Blogette 14

Here is a list of things that I would like to be doing right now:

  • Swinging (at the park….not the “other” kind)
  • Having a bubble blowing contest with the perfect piece of bubble gum
  • Playing with my dog
  • Sitting by the pool with my supercool girlfriends sipping cocktails
  • Getting to know a certain dark haired boy
  • Getting a pedicure
  • Bowling
  • Anything but working

That is all. Nothing more to see here.  Move along.

The Weekend In Review

This weekend wasn’t a big exciting weekend…but it was a good weekend and I woke up smiling this morning….so that’s got to be something. 

Friday: Worked, well, sat at work and tried to figure out things to do to pass the time.  Sad, sad day on my time sheet as far as billable hours were concerned.  Half of the office was on vacation…even if there were things to be done, no one was there to do them.  Got new brakes on the Little Red Rocket…and I mean the whole nine yards, rotors, pads, and even wheel cylinders.  WOO HOO!  I can stop like all the other cars now.  Stopped at Target on the way home and got a sweet new flat iron (it was needed, new haircut+ cracked flat iron = need to new flat iron) and I got some Brita filters too (I know how to party AND hydrate).  The filters were on sale AND I got a $5 Target gift card that had a cute hologram of a puppy rolling over on it. I also got a cute flowered fabric purse I had had my eyes on for awhile that was 30% off.  Went home, watched some “What Not to Wear” and fell asleep on the couch.  Yeah, I’m a party girl, what can I say. 

Saturday: Was awoken by Noodle kisses.  Got up, walked him, took a shower and met Ear Injury at DSW for the beginning of what would be Shop-a-palooza 2007!  DSW was having their end of summer sale (don’t ask) and before Ear injury even got there, I had picked up 2 purses, both under $15 with retail prices of $85 and $150!  One was a b-day gift for my mom….she’ll love it.  Then I found the elusive dark brown flip flops I had been searching for.  Born’s also….for like $25!!!  YES!  We hit Old Navy , and we hit it HARD!  There were two shirts that I had wanted for awhile that were both on sale for $8.  I also got a cute babydoll sweater that can take me into fall and a little black dress that will ROCK once I get this tan in better order. Then we stopped at Target for a bit (got some cute earrings and a tasty beverage) before arriving at the mall.  We didn’t go THAT many places in the mall, but it seemed like we were there FOREVER!  After failing at our quest to get a pretzel—stupid directory—we both but ourselves off and went home.  We won’t even get into the crazy kiosk lady who was doing the full court press to get us to buy this nail buffer.  I wonder how that one thumbnail is looking……  I went home and passed out for 2 hours.  I was BEAT!  I think I pulled a muscle carrying all my packages, or it might have been the 38lb thing of kitty litter (where’s a boy when you need him!?)  After the nap I went to dinner with Pops, got my first pair of Crocs ( I LOVE THEM!) and we went to see Ratatouille.  That movie was really cute and, as most pixar things are, really well done.  I was so tired when I got home that I fell asleep on top of my covers, in my clothes, including my Crocs (which had been put on in response to the scary blisters I got from the super cute skimmers I had worn to dinner). I woke up Sunday am with my furry friends all around me, the kitchen and bedroom light on and fully clothed—and NOT hungover, interesting. 

Sunday: I was all rested from the previous day’s festivities and it wasn’t bloody hot outside, so Noodle and I hit the dog park.  There were a surprising number of dogs there for 9:30 on Sunday morning, or at least is surprised me.  I don’t see 9:30 Sunday morning outside of my house very often.  Noodle took off like a bolt of lightning when we got there and went to town.  Lots of butt sniffing and licking.  He ran with the pack for awhile, then started hitting up the other humans.  He loves the attention of humans. This big black dog kept running up and knocking Noodle over and rolling around with him.  Noodle was NOT amused.  He squealed and ran over to me every time.  Poor little Mama’s Boy!  Once he stopped running around, I decided to take his dirty butt home.  My normally white dog was now FILTHY!!!!  So we got home and he instantly got in the bath.  He was so worn out that he didn’t seem to mind the bath at all.  He even fell asleep while I was blow drying him.  Once he was all taken care of, I went to the pool.  No one was there.  I had the joint completely to myself.  I hopped on my hot pink floaty and read for awhile.  Then I got sleepy and decided to float, sleep and tan at the same time—I love to multi-task!  All was well and good until the heavens opened up and raindrops so big that they hurt started to pelt me.  I ran under a tree with all my stuff trying to decide if it was a 5 minute storm.  Once it thundered,  I decided it wasn’t.  I scurried into the house.  I opened the patio door to listen to the rain and fell asleep with Noodle and Kobe (Fergus was in his own bed) on the couch for a lovely Sunday afternoon nap.  Didn’t get much sun time, but I have Wednesday and all next weekend to make up for it. Went to dinner with my Pops at Las Palmas, then went home, did some laundry and called to see what was up with my internet (I had been unable to get online at home for 4 days…I had myspace withdrawls BIG TIME!) Come to find out, the ONE button I hadn’t touched in attempts to fix things myself was the magic button.  LAME! But all’s well that ends well.  I caught up on Mr. T’s life—got himself an iPhone, and responded to emails, etc…. Then I watched 4 “Gay Robot” clips on YouTube—which were really funny and went to bed, IN MY BED!!!

It’s dead at work this week, but that’s alright I guess.  Not sure how I’ll pass the time, but I’m sure I will.  Cheesecake Factory for a b-day tonight, pre-trivia.  Party tomorrow night.  Wednesday, lots of pool time….then who knows what for the rest of the week.  There better be some smooching with cute boys this week…..I’m just saying.