Friday randomness

Well, either West Nile has come to my street, or Toby finally caught himself a bird. I walked into my backyard yesterday afternoon and nearly stepped on a poor little dead robin. Toby had a really proud look about him, but I haven’t figured out how he could have possibly been the culprit. Birds fly, right? Surely he’s wasn’t quick enough to pounce on it before it could fly away.

The saddest part was trying to figure out what to do with it (besides giving it to Toby, who seemed all too eager to chew on it for awhile.) I ended up tossing it in the outside garbage can, but that felt pretty cruel. What’s the proper way to dispose of a dead bird, anyway?

On a completely unrelated note, are any of you following American Idol this year? I’m kind of in love with Danny Gokey and Adam Lambert. But a little part of me feels like I’m betraying David Cook… I’m allowed to have a new Idol boyfriend since it’s a new season, right? I think those are the rules. (Jen, help me out here.)

Yes, even with the black outfit, black finger nails, black hair, black gloves, black eyeliner and giant gold chains, I can't help but love this guy.

Oh, and one last thing -

I found this little game at over at BookKitten's blog, it's called Friday Fill-ins. If you want to play, go right ahead. It's pretty self-explanatory.

1. I'm clumsy, I'm sarcastic, I try to find humor in everything.

2. Why do I have short, stubby legs and not long, graceful ones?

3. How does this whole "being a grownup" thing work, anyway?

4. Every morning, I put a big, steaming hot cup of coffee on my desk.

5. I consider myself lucky because I have a wonderful family and friends who love me and make me laugh.

6. One day we’ll see God.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to having dinner with my family in Birmingham, tomorrow my plans include going to Chase's Blue Gold Banquet and Sunday, I want to come home and rest from my weekend on the road!

Have a great weekend!!

I'm NOT old!! Right??

Somebody please tell me when 24 became old. Seriously… last time I checked, I was still a young woman, right? I don’t know. Several people have been saying otherwise.

For instance, when I called to tell my little brother happy birthday this morning he responded by calling me an old woman. Look here Bubba, you’re not that much younger than me! It hasn’t been that long since I was 17, too. (Okay… it’s been seven years. But it doesn’t feel like it!)

And he’s not the only one. My guitar teacher told me I was nearly ancient. He’s only two years younger than me! As far as I’m concerned, that makes him decrepit, too.

Then – and this one might take the crown – I was called an old maid by the waiter at the Mexican restaurant a few months ago. His exact words were, “Wow, 24…shouldn’t you be poppin’ out some puppies pretty soon?” Poppin’ out some puppies?! What the hell, man??

Guys, let me assure you – you get no points for calling a woman old or ancient, and you get NEGATIVE points for telling her to hurry up and pop out some puppies before she can’t anymore. Just thought I’d give you a heads up on that one.

But seriously, happy birthday Sean. Just remember – one day you’ll be old, too. And trust me, I’ll be the first to call you names and steal your walker.

Sean and his friend, Ricky, celebrating their birthdays together.

My piggyback post

Well, today I’m going to be a follower (yet again). I know what you’re thinking. “Be original, Heather. Come up with your own ideas…” Well, lately my brain is feeling pretty mushy. So until it starts acting right, I’m going to piggyback off of other people. And you’ll just have to like it. (Or not read it. I guess it’s up to you.)

Diane, Mel and Jenners have all done the now infamous Google meme. It’s pretty basic. You just go to Google and type in “Your name needs” (don’t literally type “your name”- you know what I mean, right? Don’t be dumb.) Then make a list of whatever it is Google thinks you’re lacking. As many people before me have realized, Google can be a jerk. Here’s what I supposedly need for a fulfilled life.

Heather needs:

…two therapists. Really? Is one not enough? Am I supposed to play them against each other?

…something more to be satisfied. This is probably true. What do you recommend Google?

…to grow up. Oh, come on! I’m trying.

…a childhood. Well make up your dang mind, Google. Which is it? Grow up, or be a child?

…men. Multiple men, or just men in general?

…some body guards. Is that a threat, Google? I don’t like your attitude.

…a new shrink. You mean besides the two you already recommended? So we’re up to three therapists now. Greeeat. It just keeps getting better.

…Gatorade. Well, now that you mention it, I am a little thirsty.

…a joint. Umm, Google?? I think you have me confused with someone else.

…a vacation. FINALLY.. something I actually want.

…£10,000 a day. Again.. you’re beginning to redeem yourself Google. We could be friends.

…to talk about the weather. Well, it’s sunny and about 60 degrees today. Pretty nice, overall.

…your financial support. Yes. You can send checks, made payable to Heather to… Oh, what’s that? You don’t want to send me a check? Oh. Well, fine.

…protection. Again with the threats. Is there something I need to know, Google??

…to go. Go where? Could you be more specific?

…help. On so many levels.

…prayers again. Again? Well, okay. I’ll take ‘em if you think I need ‘em. Pray away.

… a triumphant return to TV. Well, that could be fun. Although technically I think you need to have been on TV before to make a triumphant return to TV. I’m just sayin’.

Well, that was interesting. Google seems a little two-faced though, if you ask me. One minute it’s threatening me and insulting my sanity, the next it’s suggesting large sums of money and a much needed vacation. Make up your mind, Google. Quit toying with me!

And now, one last little bit of piggybacking. I saw this on Dan’s blog yesterday and thought it looked like fun. Basically, you’re creating your own CD cover. Here are the rules:

Go to “Wikipedia.” Hit “random” and the first article you get is the name of your band.
Then go to “Random Quotations” and the last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
Then, go to Flickr and click on “Explore the Last Seven Days” and the third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
Use Photoshop or some other image editor to add text & spiffify.
Post a link to your band's album cover here!

Here’s mine.




My band is apparently called Clerks Regular of Our Saviour. It’s a bit of a mouthful, so I have a feeling people would wind up shortening in some way. Maybe just Clerks Regular. Or CROS. Anyway, their first album is called “Travels Faster Than Light.”

From the look of it, I’d say they're an alternative rock band. I might be putting my own musical bias on that though.

If you decide to do either of these, let me know so I can come look!

Toby tells all

Not too long ago, Sundance (Diane’s four-legged friend) took over her blog in the form of a doggy interview. Toby was totally jealous and decided he needed a little face time, too. Since I didn’t have much to say today, I figured I’d let him at it.

1. Do you think you’re hot? Only after I make a few laps around the backyard and get all sweaty…have you seen how fast squirrels can run? It’s insane. I’m going to catch one soon though, just wait. Oh…what’s that? You mean am I cute? Seriously? Have you seen me?

2. Upload a favorite picture of you. Why do you like this picture? Oh, man… that’s my ball. It’s all chewy and bouncy and stuff…I love my ball.

3. When was the last time you ate pizza? Mom usually gives me a bite of everything she eats, but I haven’t had a whole slice in awhile. One time, she left her plate on the coffee table, right in front of my nose while she went to the kitchen. What’s a dog supposed to do?? I thought she was sharing…

4. What was the last song you listened to? Song? That’s a stretch… all I listen to lately is Mom butchering songs on that thing with strings. It’s awful.

5. What are you doing now? Laying around the house while Mom’s at work. I’m usually a bum till she gets home, then it’s full throttle until bed time.

6. What name would you prefer besides Toby? Toby’s not that bad, considering I usually hear “Retard” or “Bad Dog!” She says she loves me, but sometimes I wonder.

7. What’s your favorite thing to do? My favorite thing is keeping those pesky squirrels out of the yard. One time, I sat beneath a tree and barked for three hours, just to be sure none of those furry-butts tried to come back down. I didn’t even budge when Mom threatened me. That’s determination. And she says I have a short attention span…

8. Where do you sleep? On the bed. That’s normal, right? You mean some dogs sleep somewhere else? Why?? Not this dog. I gotta be under the covers. Mom keeps the house cold at night.

9. Do you have a favorite toy? Didn’t we already go over this? My ball…duh! Remember, it’s chewy and bouncy? Don’t you listen?

10. Are there any other animals at your house? No… Mom brought home a really mean dog one time. It didn’t work out. I wanted to play, but he wanted to chew my neck off. And he wouldn’t let me near Mom… Jerk. He had to go.

Update time

Well, there’s not much going on in my sleepy little world right now, so I don’t have much to post about. I’ll give you a brief run down just to keep you updated:

I had my second guitar lesson last night, and thankfully, I seem to be improving. (Maybe?) I now know all of my chords in D and A, and can practice songs like “Wild Thing” and “Amazing Grace”. (Glad to know the genre gap is wide open.) I also learned how to tune my guitar by ear. Needless to say, I don’t plan on doing that very often. I think tuners were invented for a reason. But it’s nice to know how, I guess. My teacher is still being very patient. I keep waiting for him to snap and ask me if I have a learning disorder.

After my lesson, I headed over to the college in town to watch Bye, Bye Birdie. They brought actors in from somewhere (?) and they did a fantastic job. I left the theater singing, “We love you Conrad. Oh, yes we do…” It got pretty annoying after about 10 minutes, but by then it was stuck in my head.

Kevin didn’t sell his land, or his cows –and I’m not sure he really wants to, deep down. We’re not together, and I doubt we ever will be. It hurts, but in the end, I think it’s for the best. We want different things in life, and I don’t think either of us should give up our dreams to make the other one happy. It wouldn’t be fair. I can talk about it like a mature adult, but deep down, I’m sort of a wreck right now. But thanks to the loving support of my family and friends (including you wonderful blog-buddies), I know I’ll make it. So, thank you.

And that’s pretty much all there is to tell, for now. Hope you all have a happy Friday.

"Don't go in the kitchen...."

Weekly writing assignment from Mama Kat: Write about something mean you did to a sibling growing up.

First of all, let me clarify that I am NOT mean. Really, I’m not. But at times, I feel that it’s my right as the oldest sibling to shake things up a bit and scare the pants off my younger brothers.

Okay, so maybe it was only once. But you better believe I made that one time count.

When I was fifteen, one of my neighbors was at the house watching a scary movie with me. (This is before I got to be such a wuss and quit watching scary movies.) My brother, Sean, was probably eight or so, and he and his friend thought they were big and bad enough to watch the horror flick, too. I told him it was a bad idea. I told him he’d have nightmares. But he insisted. He was determined to watch. And to my surprise, he didn’t flinch once during the whole movie. He didn’t seem scared at all. I had to fix that.

Once the movie ended, Sean and his friend went to his room to play, while Anni and I plotted our very own little house of horrors.

First, we took out a butcher knife and covered it in a nasty mix of ketchup and maple syrup (to look like blood, of course.) We left it laying on the kitchen counter and smeared some more of our sticky, sweet, tomato based blood all around it.

Then, we hid in my step-mom’s office and used the separate phone line to call the house and torture my brother. When he answered, I said (in my raspiest, scariest voice) something along the lines of, “Don’t go in the kitchen.” It took several calls to get him sounding a little shaky. By the time he finally made his way to the “crime scene”, Anni was sprawled across the floor, pretending to be dead. She must have been pretty convincing. Sean and his friend FREAKED out.

At first it was hilarious. But once he started crying, I felt like crap. I was sure that I had scarred him for life.

Luckily there was no permanent damage to his psyche.

And believe it or not, I never did anything like that again.

Birthday bubbly and Satan's slots

For all of you who celebrated love this weekend, I hope you had a wonderful and fulfilling Valentine’s Day.

Me? I went to the Gulf Coast to drink and gamble my problems away.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

Tomorrow is my grandmother’s 80th birthday. (Happy birthday Grandma!!!) She lives in Ocean Springs, near Biloxi (the Gulf Coast’s very own version of Vegas…on a MUCH smaller scale.) So, Sunday we hit up the Hard Rock for a birthday lunch. And since it was Valentine’s weekend, there happened to be free champagne with all meals. I might have had a few glasses. Then I might have felt lucky and decided to play the slots. It was, after all, my first time in a casino. Luckily, I set a very low ($20) limit and swore once I blew that, I’d step away from the machines. Needless to say, I didn’t hit it big. I walked away very disappointed. Those bright flashing lights will never fool me again. Alas, the thrill is gone.

My Aunt Jayme, me and Grandma after our lunch at the Hard Rock. Grandma's a hottie for 80, huh? She's a feisty little spit-fire, too! I hope I'm that much fun at 80!

On a completely unrelated note, I started guitar lessons last week. My attempts to teach myself proved pretty futile. As Mitch Hedberg said, “I taught myself how to play the guitar, which was a bad decision... because I didn't know how to play it, so I was a crappy teacher. I would never have went to me.” So, I decided to bring in professional help.

The bad news is I’m terrible. The good news is my teacher swears he’s taught worse. I guess that’s comforting? The majority of the lesson was spent correcting my apparently horrible pick-holding technique (or lack-there-of). The rest was spent listening to me completely screw up basic chords. Thank God my teacher is one of the most patient people I’ve ever met. I’m trying hard not to show him how impatient I am. There were times I wanted to yell at my guitar for being so obviously at fault when I couldn’t get my fingers on the right strings. Instead, I took deep, cleansing breaths and probably looked like a total lunatic. I told him to let me know if he ever decides there’s no way in Hades I’m going to learn. No use wasting time on a hopeless case, ya know?

Oh, and for an update on my last post: Kevin and I are currently not together. According to him, we’re on a break until he can prove he’s capable of compromise. He has two people interested in his land and cattle and he’s talking about selling them and moving closer to me. I hope he means it. But I also hope it’s what he really wants. I don’t want him making sacrifices for me that he’ll regret later. I don’t want him to look back and wish he hadn’t given those things up.

In the meantime, I’m going to throw myself into life here in my new town. I’m going to do things for me (like my guitar lessons) and see what I can do to become involved in my little community.
And I’m definitely NOT going to retreat to drinking and gambling. So, no worries. I don't want to be a loser.

Me and Mama after the slots proved to be hateful little money stealers. (That's my sad face.)