when will i learn...

i'm grumpy and tired

sick of many things

been feeling out of sorts

and although i can pinpoint

the angst

it's not fair to share details

because like always

it doesn't involve just me

so i will share just the thoughts in my noggin

i don't want to be your bandaid

your rug to wipe your feet on

your cheerleader to make you feel better

your cozy place to rest your head

or your nurse to ease your pain

unless you are all of those things for me

all relationships are give and take
if you are always giving
you feel used
if you are always taking
you should feel guilty

when will i ever learn
probably never
i am always going to be someone
who shares what i have to give
to the people around me
regardless of the type of relationship
we share
i simply don't know another way
to be me

conservative sexy...

conservative sexy.  those two words don't really go together.  when i think of the word conservative, an image of a woman wearing clothes with very little skin showing pops into my head.  she dresses in a way not to draw too much attention to her womanhood.  on the other hand, the word sexy conjures a completely different image in my head.  this woman is purposely drawing attention to her womanhood as if she is advertising she is ripe for the taking.  so what in the world is conservative sexy?

when i go out on the town, i don't dress overly provocative.  i may wear a simple pair of jeans and tee with a pair of sexy heels, or a body conscious outfit with an oversized cardigan and flats, or a pair of skinny jeans, loose top and boots.  i tend to pick one piece that is a little sexy and eye catching but keep the rest fairly simple and conservative.  you are not going to find me in a low cut top, painted on jeans, and sexy heels.

i have a few reasons for this.  one, i'm not comfortable in such revealing clothes.  i will be revealing for you in the privacy of my own home, but i don't need every tom, dick, and harry sizing up my groceries.  two, if that is the look a man is into, he would be really disappointed if i saw him again since i don't normally dress like that.  three, it just seems like i'm trying too hard to be noticed dressed that way. 

over the weekend, my girlfriends and i went to the local karaoke bar.  we had been at the river all day, it was 90 degrees outside, and we were just looking to sing a few songs.  we all put on nicer clothes than we would have if we were just sitting around the house, but none of us were pimped out.

wife beater, camo cargo skirt, and flip flops

okay so my skirt is a little short, but i have a test on when it is too short.  when you sit down, if your crotch is making contact with the seat...too short.  i really don't want to bump uglies with a stranger by sitting down on a seat.  so my rule of thumb is to make sure there is a barrier of fabric (my clothes) in between my crotch and whatever crotch was sitting there before me.

anyway, we got to the place, found a table, and settled in for the night. it wasn't long after we sat down that a table of young men meandered over, taking their turns trying to butter us up, but we weren't biting.  they gave up pretty quickly, but the right prey came through the door not long after.

a group of loud, scantily dressed ladies, oozing "buy me a drink i will make it worth your while" entered. nosy me watched how quickly the men snatched them up and how easily these ladies slipped into their role. i leaned over to my friend and said, "are you watching those ladies?"  she hadn't been watching, but joined me.

the young man who had previously hit on me was now wrapped all around a tall drink of water in a dress that looked like a shirt with no pants and five inch heels. in a matter of moments they were very cozy and looked as if they had been an item for months.

i leaned back over to my friend and said, "i could find a man being like that."  she looked at me, we both said "eww" at the same time, then belly laughed at ourselves.

i don't plan on becoming one of those slutty bar whores in the near future, but it baffles me at how many ladies are comfortable in that role, yet they are the same ones that complain that men only want them for sex. come on ladies, we can definitely do better.  put on some clothes and stop reducing yourselves to just a piece of ass for a lousy drink. and men, if you just want a piece of ass, buy the "pussy and ass" from the sex shop down the road.  this lovely contraption won't ever tell you "she" has a headache, willing let's you enter the back door, and "she" won't become emotionally attached to you.

i know i can't change the world, but i can keep making noise.  

midstream...

having the flu as an adult is the pits.  i recently had a flu experience like none other.  the last time i was this sick was on thanksgiving a few years ago.  it was so bad i missed black friday shopping with the girls and i lost 8 pounds in 4 days.  great weight loss program if you don't mind a raw butt from endless crapping and constant heartburn from throwing up repeatedly.  if i had my choice i would rather starve myself and be amped up on diet pills than endure that again.

anyway, this whole thing started on a thursday.  it was my time to bring lunch in for the office.  i made a pesto chicken recipe that i had been wanting to try but didn't want to try out on my kids.  i felt fine when i woke up, but once i got to work i could feel something coming on.  by the time lunch rolled around, i felt like a giant sand worm was trying to climb out of my stomach through my throat.  there was something coming but still trying to wiggle its way to the surface.

the boss man is always very excited for lunch on thursday.  he came bounding down the hall exclaiming "lunch time!"  with a sour look on my face i came out of my office to explain what lunch was and that i wasn't going to be eating it.  the conversation went like this:

me: enjoy.  i'm not eating that.
boss man:  is there something wrong with it?
me: nope, i just can't eat it.
boss man: why?
me:  i will puke if i eat that.
boss man:  are you sure there's nothing wrong with it?
me: no, i just don't feel good.  i don't want to risk it.

feeling brave, the office dished up lunch and headed for the break room.  i joined them, pushed away from the table, holding down the sand worm.  as lunch continued the boss man kept commenting on how my skin was getting paler and lobbing your typical puke jokes across the table at me.  i can't remember any of them now, but i was a good sport and laughed.  towards the end of lunch, i leaped out of my chair and raced down the hall to the restroom.  needless to say i was sent home.

by the time i made it home, i was shaking uncontrollably, my whole entire body hurt, i had the chills, a headache and a fever.  i still hadn't dislodged the sand worm, it was still working its way up my esophagus.  i decided to change out of my work clothes into my cozies.  i realized i had to use the restroom so into my little bathroom i headed.  on my way there the urge to pee was getting stronger, but before i could get there i peed all over myself.

as soon as i started peeing, i was trying to stop midstream, because i wasn't at the potty yet.  however, i couldn't stop.  what the heck?  since when can't i control my bodily functions?  aren't i too young for these types of problems?  i don't want to have to start wearing adult diapers!

so not only do i feel terrible, and getting worse by the moment, but my sand worm is still lodged in my throat, i have a puddle to clean up, and i need to take a shower.  the shower was an awful experience.  i like a super hot shower, but when you feel bad hot showers don't feel good and the water felt like tiny daggers being shot at me.  horrible experience.  so everything is cleaned up, the bathroom and myself, i'm in my cozies and go to lay down.

wouldn't you know it, i have to pee again.  and once again i don't make it to the bathroom.  what in the world kind of sickness is this that you lose bladder control. i am thankful it is just pee and i'm not pooing all over, but seriously this is an embarrassing thing for one to endure.  i get everything cleaned up, again, and call my mom.  for those of you who aren't aware, my mom is a nurse.  i rarely go to the doctor, i opt to call mom first.  i'm also really bad at calling my parents, so they get super excited when i call.

the phone is ringing and mom answers:
mom:  heather!  how are you?
me: ugh. hi mom.  i need nurse mom.
mom: oh okay, what's the matter?
me: i have some sort of flu, but there is a strange side effect.  i have no bladder control and have peed myself twice.
mom: snickering on the other end of the line.  then does it hurt to pee?
me: no.
mom: does it have an odor?
me: uh, no!  i just can't control it.
mom: probably just part of the virus, that should go away.

this really wasn't the best news, but it certainly wasn't terrible news.

over the next couple of days, i tested my abilities by attempting to stop midstream. i was able to make it to the facilities without any mishaps, after my two mishaps, but it took the whole weekend to regain midstream stoppage.  coincidentally by the end of the weekend i was also feeling much, much better.

this was the weirdest flu experience i've ever had.  i never threw up but that sand worm stayed lodged in my throat until my fever went away.  speaking of the fever i had that for two and half days.  the body aches were present for a few days as well as the chills.  and the peeing, well i'm glad that wasn't a lasting side effect.

i should report you...

so this tale happened last year.  i've never been brave enough to post, until now. there will always be sketchy people in the world, whether you meet them in person or virtually.  be smart and trust your instincts.   

as you know, i have had some crazy experiences when it comes to dating, whether it be online or a by chance meeting.  however, none so unsettling or eye opening as this.  i had stopped the process of actively looking to date, it is an exhausting process and frankly i don't have the time to put that much effort in to it.  so, i had once again canceled my subscription and was letting it run out, when i received an email.

the email was really nice, which prompted me to check out this man's profile.  on virtual paper, it seemed as if this man had been dealt a rough hand, but was ready to rejoin the masses.  according to his profile, he is a widow, has a young daughter, and is just getting his toes wet attempting to date.  i responded.

we exchanged a few emails within the site email system and then exchanged personal emails.  at the time when we exchanged personal emails, he said he was leaving the country to attend to some family issues overseas, pertaining to his parents.  he said he would be gone for a couple of weeks, but wanted to keep in touch.  i didn't expect to hear much from him, but devoured any email he sent.

about a week into his stay overseas, i started noticing some inconsistencies.  the time frames weren't adding up, he would repeat things to me as if he was telling me for the first time, and he wasn't answering any questions i asked.  i was chalking it up to two strangers communicating through email and that it would be different in person.  being able to see physical expressions, hear their voice and stop when something didn't make sense for clarification, usually lends itself to clearer conversations.

every email he sent, which was daily, was very heartfelt.  he would talk about how much he missed his daughter and how he couldn't wait to get back to finally meet me.  i will admit that he was saying all the right things.

then came an email that really sent up a red flag.  he asked me if i had canceled my subscription because he was confident that we were going to be great together and he didn't want me communicating with other men.  i immediately fired back an email that said, although i had canceled my subscription, it had nothing to do with him and if this is his position about the woman he has in his life i wasn't interested.  he responded right away, saying he was joking, backtracking, trying to smooth things over.  i wasn't convinced.

we are now several weeks into his trip that was only supposed to be two at the longest, when i received another email.  this one was really strange, "i need to talk to you tonight, i have a favor i need to ask you that i can't disclose over email."  i read it a couple of times just to make sure i was reading it correctly.  i replied that i found the content of the email sketchy. he countered with a story of how he needed money to finalize whatever he was doing and didn't know how he was going to come up with it.  then came the request, "can you lend me $$$?"

my body was covered in goose bumps.  oh my word, this person, who has shared so much, is running a scam.  does he really think i am that stupid that i would send a complete stranger money?

for one, i didn't have the money that he was asking for.  two, i wouldn't send it to him even if i had it.  i found the request to be grossly inappropriate.  i am a stranger to this human, we haven't met or talked on the phone.  the only contact i have had up to this point, was email, and as you read i was already skeptical. 

he asked me one more time, for a lesser amount, stating that he had come up with some of it and could really use my help.  he said, he would be back in two days and would return the money upon returning the states.  i again said no.  he completely disappeared.  i contacted him one last time, which turned into a threat by him that if i shared any of this publicly he would sue me, for what i'm not sure.

i am tempted to disclose the information that i have about this person, but for all i know the contact info is completely false.  i did keep all the emails that he sent, one because i am too lazy to delete them, but once the red flags starting flying, it seemed important to do so.  

near death experience...

you know that old saying, careful what you wish for?  i had said, nothing exciting is happening in my life right now, well i am definitely eating those words.  it seems like i am on a collision course for a set of three potentially dangerous happenings.  if you recall i caught my arm on fire last week.  in order to protect myself, my daughter, and my home i have thrown away the cursed curling iron and my beloved old pink robe.

i had a fairly uneventful weekend, some family time, a little friend time, a couple of good runs, oh and i am almost died.  no joke.  i'm not even exaggerating.  i do that sometimes, but this event, this near death experience was literally the most scared i have ever been and my entire life flashed before my eyes.  along with two scenarios of how the event was going to end.

my latest "adventure" has to do with my car.  there is a ton of technical car talk, that frankly i don't know and really don't care to know, so you will just have to bare with my layman's words.  anyway, i had gone out for a run on saturday, but my running app crapped out half way through my run, so i have no idea how far i went. seeing as sunday was a rest day, i thought i would go walk the run i did to see if i could (1) get my app to work and (2) see how far i ran.  with my plan hatched, i jumped into my car and took off down the road.

she, i refer to my car as a she, started up just fine.  a nice purr coming from the engine.  i turned out of my driveway and headed south on a super sketchy stretch of road.  in the last few years there has been numerous accidents, some fatal, and a vast variety of humans walk this stretch of road.  hopefully you are getting that this is a busy road, with not only foot traffic but lots of cars that don't always drive safely. it wasn't long after i turned onto the road that something happened.

i had my foot on the gas pedal, just as one would do when they are accelerating in traffic, but i noticed that my engine was revving higher than normal and my speed was increasing.  i took my foot off the gas pedal yet my car was still accelerating. that is when i started to panic and stepped on the brake, which wasn't doing anything.  despite stepping on the brake i was still accelerating.  i'm sure beads of sweat were running off my forehead and i was undoubtedly pitting out.  up ahead of me was a very busy, kind of confusing intersection and i could see it was full of cars.

so i mentioned two scenarios...

the first involved me not being able to stop and plowing through the dozens of cars ahead of me into the gas station on the other side of the intersection.  not only would i have killed myself, but i definitely would have injured many other motorists just out on a sunday evening.

the second involved my car bursting in a spectacular hollywood explosion and my charred body recovered strapped in my seat with a permanent look of terror on my face.  at this point the engine was revved out, meaning the needle was all the way on the right in the red zone.  i've never heard my car sound that way before.  i thought if i can't shut this off it will most likely explode, which would mean imminent death for me.

both scenarios scared the crap out me

and to be honest

i really wasn't ready to die in a car crash

everything happened so fast and i was in a serious state of panic, i'm still not sure how i got stopped.  i remember standing on my brakes, listening to the engine continue to rev and feeling the car trying to obey the brakes but wanting to race freely.  somehow i managed to get stopped enough to put my car in park and shut it off.  a whole lot of awful screeching and grinding noises came from under the hood, but at that point i didn't give two hoots, i had averted death, screech away. 

i called the only person i knew to be home, my ex.  i could tell when he answered the phone he thought i was just being a hysterical girl and that i was probably exaggerating just a little bit.  he asked me a couple of questions:

him: have you tried turning it back on?

me: heck no! i'm afraid to do so.

him: just turn it on.

me: the brakes aren't working what if i lurch into a building or something?

him: put it in park, it won't go anywhere and turn it on.

me: okay.  i hold my breath and turn it on, the sounds of an angry beast being held captive released from under the hood.

him: what happened?

me: it revved out and i didn't even touch a pedal.  can't you hear that?

him: not over the phone, just stay put i will be there in a minute.

sure enough he came to my rescue, sitting on the side of the road haphazardly parked.  he started asking me more things, and i just said "try it, turn on the car."  so he turned it on, the beast screamed wildly, and he quickly turned it off.  "holy crap, that is scary!"  i shrugged my shoulders, rolled my eyes and gave the i was trying to tell you look.

here comes the technical car lingo that i don't know.  turns out there was a small piece of plastic that was keeping the throttle valve open.  i have no idea how a small piece of plastic found its way inside the black tubing, but somehow it did.  the valve was propped open just like when nemo put a rock in the fan to stop the suction so he could wiggle his way through the tube back into the tank. 

good news...i didn't die.  i didn't harm anyone else.  the problem has been fixed and life carries on as i know it.

bad news...this is only number two.  so far i've had arm on fire and almost fire-y car crash.  not sure what else the world has in store for me, but i will be more than ready to be done with this series of three "adventures".

up in flames...

just last week i had said nothing exciting has been happening in my life.  i'm not sure if my mishap this morning really qualifies as "exciting", but it was definitely something.  for those of you who know me pretty well, you know i have an irrational fear of fires.  well, today marks my first experience with being on fire! exciting or sheer horror?  let's get on with the story and find out, shall we?

my summer schedule allows me to sleep in and enjoy a very leisurely morning prior to work.  with all my extra time i can actually iron my clothes, with my badass rowenta iron, instead of fluffing them in the dryer.  i even have time to get fancy with my hair; curl it or pull it up, only to get pissed off that it isn't working and wear it straight down like i normally do.  this morning i decided to iron my jacket and curl my hair.  however, the universe had a completely different idea for me.

my morning cup of joe tasted perfect.  shower went off without a hitch; no razor nicks or soap in my eye.  i had a plan for my outfit, which generally takes me a long time to figure out.  my make up went on smoothly and i was feeling fab about my morning so far.  got my locks blown out and instead of plugging in my flat iron and rocking the silky smooth mane, i plugged in my 2 1/2 inch barrel curling iron to try my hand at loose playful curls.

before i go on with the curling iron stuff, i should set the scene of my bathroom. you may remember from my previous story, my bathroom also houses my laundering machines, my cat's stuff, a toilet and a sink, oh and that nasty scale is in there too.  i set up my ironing board in front of the washer and dryer.  my jacket is draped over the ironing board and the iron is heating up at the other end of the ironing board.  i'm standing in front of my sink, because that is where the mirror is with my hair sectioned off, ready to start curling.

i grab my first chunk of hair, wind it up in the iron, let it sit for a moment then release.  ah yes, the hair is curling nicely, i think my hair might actually work out today.  i work my way around the back of my head and everything is still going swell.  i come the last chunk of hair and this is where my mishap takes place.

i grab the last chunk, bring the iron up to my hair and hear a pop.  i look to where the noise came from, which is towards the outlet my two irons are plugged in and notice that the sleeve of my robe is on fire!  from my wrist to my elbow i'm up in flames.

remember stop, drop and roll?  well that doesn't even enter my mind.  i throw my curling iron across the room towards the dryer and start flapping my arm up and down like i'm learning how to use wings for the first time.  in addition to frantically flapping my arm around, i am trying like hell to get out of my robe. usually i play this game with my robe on how long it will stay tied so i don't end up flashing myself in the mirror, but at this moment the tie seemed to be cemented closed, i was tugging and pulling, but it wasn't budging.

turns out i didn't need to remove my robe.  the frantic flapping of my arm did the trick and i successfully put out the fire.  i have no idea how my sleeve caught on fire, i didn't see that happen, just heard the pop.  my ugly pink robe now has one  black sleeve and smells terrible.  guess i will need a new one.

if i'm going to be honest, starting my monday with a fire was a little more excitement than i really needed.  to make my monday even better, i never got my jacket ironed which meant plan b for my outfit.  and i ended up with straight hair because i didn't trust my curling iron. happy monday y'all.

140.4...

numbers...they are the devil.  we shouldn't look at numbers on clothing tags, numbers on scales, numbers that represent our age, or numbers that tell us how far we have gone and how fast we got there.  we just shouldn't look at them, but i'm sure you still look.  i still look.  those darn numbers taunt me.

my scale.  i have shared this story many times, but it might be worth sharing it again.  one of my very favorite families and best friends moved out of the country four years ago.  my dear friends divvied out their belongings between their friends, family and a storage unit.  i have been housing a few things: kitchen table and chairs, two dressers, a cabinet-y thing-a-ma-bob, an ironing board, a few pieces of artwork, a "jetski", and the scale.

this is a fancy schmancy scale.  it is programmable, digital, tells you other things besides your weight and is kind of fashionable in a "i'm either going to make you hate yourself or love yourself" kind of way.  the scale was programmed for the man of the household and i've never been able to figure out how to change that, but frank whenever you're ready your scale still knows you.  if i remember, i jump on the scale using the "guest" feature, although i hardly consider myself a guest.  this feature makes you manually enter your age, gender and height.

i store this scale in my bathroom.  that seems like a standard place to keep it.  it lurks under a rolling cart that houses other bathroom appliances such as flat irons, curling irons, clothes irons and other things of that nature, that never talk back or purposely make me cringe.  the scale is typically shoved under the cart as far back as i can push it because even just the edge of it makes me cringe and i'm rarely satisfied with my results when using it.

for some unknown reason i decided to pull the scale out today.  now i'm a fairly clean person but my hair falls out daily, i shed like a great dane, and for some reason my bathroom is pretty dusty.  it might be because it also houses my laundering machines and my cat, oscar, shares this space with me. what i'm getting at, is when i stuck my hand underneath the cart and pulled the scale out it looked like it was wearing a sweater.  a sweater made from my hair, dust and probably some oscar hair.  gross!

after a quick dusting, because i don't need any extra help putting numbers up on the screen, it was time to set up the scale for a "guest".   i enter in all the pertinent information: 38, female, 5'8" and prepare myself for what might be coming.  to get the most accurate reading possible, i step out of my tired pink slippers and shed my oversize uglier than ugly pink robe, and take a deep breath.

ugh! that is my actual reading, this morning, thursday, june 26th. 

my first reaction is "lies! you are a filthy liar!" there is no way that the digital print out is correct.  my clothes still reasonably fit like they always have.  some of my summer clothes don't quite button, but those have always been "end of summer" clothes, i've still got time.  140.4!  i quickly get off the scale before it gives the rest of my reading that i don't even want to see (imminent death if you start exercising soon).

i've mentioned my winter ass a few times and have vowed to do something about it.  are you ready?  i have committed myself to three events that will definitely help in transforming my winter ass.  in october i will, now i said i was going to do this last year and ended up not doing, but this year i am running a 1/2 marathon.  i've also committed to running a full marathon in june.  the biggest motivator of all, i promised my sister i would ride naked in the solstice day parade with her next year.  time to get the jiggly bits a little less jiggly!