Tag Archives: writing

I’m Fine, I’m Fine, No Really, I’m Fine.

This is exciting.  I am an empty day nester!  I cried on and off for the first 2 days and now…I am good.  Cracker, Bambi and Alpha are all nestled into their classrooms and I can rest easy.  Cause like I literally have to rest.  I went to my rheumy yeterday and he actually diagnosed me with exhaustion.  It’s making me twitch.  Full truth, people.  It’s made my RA bad and now my muscles have been effected.  And I have had an eye twitch for 2 weeks.  I am NOT winking at you.  It didn’t help that after singing last night, I couldn’t get to sleep until 2am.  I have a million projects and things to do…a house to scrub…but for today, I need to get rid of this twitch.

And so, for those close friends and family that have been worried about me, I am fine.  I am going to go rest.  But not before I share with you todays Heatherevent:

This all started with my dear friend “Sid”.  I call her that because she has undiagnosed OCD.  I am pretty sure I came up with that name after too much Pinot Grigio, while she was scrubbing my floor on her hands and knees.  She is incredibly thoughtful and she picked up some cream for me at the store the other day when I was feeling ill.  (BTW – “Sid” started this whole nickname thing with calling me “Rah”, making fun of my awful auto-immune crippling disease know as Rheumatoid Arthritis.  Love that bitch because laughter is the best med I take.)  I had this really bad, crazy week where I found myself not being able to have a freaking cup of coffee.  I was starting to get a little obsessed with the absence of it.  And I only drink decaf, which makes the whole scenario a lot more embarrassing.

 First, I was out of coffee, then I was out of cream, then I tried skim and it tasted like poop, then I thought I would drive to Starbucks then I was too sick to drive to Starbucks.  Then my sweet dear friend “Volly” from next door came over and bought me some coffee.  Then I was still out of cream so it just sat there. Then “Sid” eventually came over at some point and brought me 2 small creams, instructing me to put one in the freezer and pull it out the day before you need it.  Her mom always did that, she said and I can verify that her mom knows everything.

HELLO “Sid”, who do you think you are dealing with?  It’s “Rah”.  Like I would ever be organized to plan ahead.

Today, I made a gorgeous pot of coffee and I couldn’t WAIT to enjoy some quiet time on my stoop after the bus left…and I go into the kitchen make THE perfect cup of coffee and I am freaking out of cream.

Now, I know what I am going to do next.  And it’s going to suck because it’s not going to work out well for me at all.   But I do it anyway, because I lie to myself that I am an optimist.  I go into the freezer and I pull out the frozen cream.   Frozen, rock hard, frozen, frozen.  I mean like, take-a-day-to-thaw-a-turkey-frozen.  I dropped it on the counter THUNK and stared at it for a minute or two.  I now have time for this, you know.  I decided  to go get a teeeeeennnyyy weeeeeennny little kid’s knife.  I shoved that little knife in there and I scraped and scraped little tiny shards of frozen cream into my coffee cup.  Plop.  Plop. Plop.  Stir it up….and voila!  Outcome?

I’m going back to bed.

 

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I have misplaced my ability to read…

…it must be around somewhere….I used to be able to read all the time…let’s see….let me get my glasses…oops, don’t know where they are either…probably on my head….nope…darn it all to heck…that’s really a shame because I FINALLY got a copy of the middlemarch book , but upon opening it, I realize it’s typeset is sized for readers the size of…

THUMBELINA

The cover is super pretty, ya’ll….looky….

I finally grabbed a spot on the couch…it was really quiet a beautiful breeze blowing in..kid were upstairs and I had about 20 minutes to spare before getting ready for a fun Friday night out…and I stared at the cover for about 5 minutes.  I kind of got lost in it, really.   I ceremoniously adjusted my head on the couch pillow and started to read the first page.

Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress.”   Kick-ass first line.  This is going to be good.

Then a wet naked Barbie flew over me on the couch.  Oral bomb noises quickly followed,  and ended with a biff-to-the-forehead noise and an “OUCH-UH!!!”  (That’s a new thing that the girls are doing…adding “uh” to the ends of words.  That’s DUMB-UH, WHAT-UH,  COME ON-UH.   WTF is that?  Look, there is even a FB page for it HERE)

 Then Bambi yelled at Cracker for whipping it at her and they had an apology fight.  “You apologize, no YOU apologize.” Someone please fucking apologize because I have read the first line 5 times.  Then the phone rang.  Then I really tried hard to concentrate and while I was reading the first paragraph, I tried really, super hard to concentrate but then I thought about if I have time to take a shower before we go over to a friends and did Cracker leave her Sonic shake in the car because I will forget about it for a couple of days until it smells and OW!!! I  suddenly got one of those shooting boob pains, what the hell IS that when that happens cause I don’t die from it when it happens but it’s in my boob and I think I need to Google that…READ READ READ, concentrate….I came across words like “frippery” and I really wish I could be reading this on my Kindle so I could hit the word and the definition pops up.  I suddenly realized I am going to need a pocket dictionary.  Hey, look.  I am no chump.  I am no idiot.  I was an English Lit. minor in one of my many colleges I attended.  I done read good.   But it’s been awhile and I have spent the last 12 years reading Highlights Magazines, Mattel Toy Assembly instructions and “Everybody Poops”.  (Great read BTW, highly recommend.)

I got down to about a third of the page and I started to schvitz a little bit.  I flipped back to the end of the book .  746 pages.  That’s a lot less than Volly, my reading project partner.  That’s maybe because my font size is -1pt.  

“The pride of being ladies has something to do with it…”  What is that smell?  What IS that?  Is that a rotten orange?  Shit, I forgot to drop off dress at the dry cleaner and I can do it tomorrow….no I can’t do it tomorrow, what is tomorrow, what do I have tomorrow, OMG why can’t I remember what tomorrow i-FOOTBALL scrimmage, right, then drive Papa and Nana to airport and

Shit…ok….“The pride of being ladies has something to do with it…The Brooke connections, although not slightl-“

I was staring at the words.  I was starting at each individual word, trying to process it.  It actually made me feel like I was going a little bit insane.    I heard a fly and thought of the bad meal we had a a local place this weekend because we ate outside and there were flies everyone and I thought about how they poop on everything and how everyone always freaks out and really, how bad could fly poop be, I mean it’s so small that it’s almost as small as the font size in my book.

Then I really start to ride the procrastination train and I start reading the quotes on the back.  Who does that but people who are procrastinating?  Or bored people pooping on the potty?  Then I read the biggest quote on the back.  I quite literally made me jump up, shove a Bath and Body Works 20% coupon in the book as a marker and run into the office to quit reading forever.

“One of the few English books for grown-ups.”  – Virginia Wolff

I am too busy to read now.  I have to go get that shake out of the car, find the source of the kitchen smell and starting drinking heavily.  Then, when I stumble wasted into bed later tonight and read the first page of my book 12 times, I will at least have a very good excuse.

(I have NEVER even blogged the word “poop” before and I think I used it today about 10 times.  See what a bad influence reading can be to a person?)

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Book #1. Purchase Fail.

For those of you DROOLING and KEENING and WAILING in anticipation for the start of my “1oo Most influential Books Evah” reading/blog project:

Houston, we can’t obtain the first book.  Nice start, idiot.

I ordered “MiddleMarch.”  I really did.  Last Monday from Amazon.com…I promise you, I am not bullshitting.  I waited and I waited and I waited…

-meanwhile-

Volly got her copy from the library sometime around Tuesday or Wednesday, which I should have done, but I owe them money.  (TOTAL EMBARRASSMENT.)

Volly informed me that the book has 801 pages.  SSSHHHWWWWHHHAAAAAAAAAA??????

Innocent enough from the front.

Side View…DOH.

Yesterday, while I was drunk at the Cubbie game, I received this email on my phone from Amazon:

Due to a lack of availability, we will not be able to obtain the following item(s) from your order:

  George Eliot “Middlemarch (Collins Classics)”

We’ve canceled the item(s) and apologize for the inconvenience. If you see a charge for the canceled item, we will refund you within 1-2 business days.”

Suckage.

Then I get a text from Volly and she says, “I finished the book!  Loved it!  (801 freaking pages and she started like 2 days ago.)  Can’t wait for you to read it!  No pressure!  LOL

NO pressure? Shit, man, I still need to GET the friggin’ book.   She’s a rockstar.  That is all.

Oh Man…now I am going to have to push through my hangover and head over to the library with my head down and my checkbook open.

Library Fine Shame.

Next time you hear from me, sometime in Spring or summer of 2013, I will have my first damn book report.  Peace out, bitches.

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The Man I Love Has A Thousand Looks.

Thor is severely hotter than this man.

I was inspired today by a new blog a friend turned me onto…called Momastary…check her out, she is totally brill.

Definitely read her blog post from today…(Aw hell, read them all, she is twelve times the writer I am.)  Anyway, in her latest post, she mentions how her husband gave her a “look”  when she said something to him that he found slightly shocking.  Hey, hey!  I get that look a lot!

Let’s make a case study of that.  (Puts on hot school teacher reader glasses.)  It varies, the look.  If the lips curl on one side, Thor is a touch disgusted by what I say.   There may be an occasional eye squint when he is thinking I am exaggerating the truth.  Which I do a lot.  The eyebrows may jump up at a rapid pace when there might be a sexual overtone.  It’s important to add that his eyebrows are up a great deal of the time.

So I thought, in honor of Momastary’s brilliant blogging and Thor’s distaste of most everything I do or say, I have decided to name a few looks I get from my husband Thor.  Note:  These are LOOKS.  He hardly ever SAYS anything to me that is negative.  He is the nicest of men.  I DRIVE him to internalize and contort his face.  It is really important to point out that Thor is the sweetest, most forgiving and kindest man I have ever met; not to mention the best father.  I just absolutely cannot blame him for thinking he married down.  Most of the time, I am a ridiculous wife.

I don’t have pictures, because (1) I can’t find my camera (2) my phone is dead and I can’t find the charger and (3)he would absolutely catch on if I started taking pictures of him reacting to everything I do.  Your land of imagination is a special place! Use it!

First I will tell you what I said or did, then I will name the special Thor look.  Off to the races:

  • I tell him I went $365 over budget at The Target = The “have-fun-taking-a-shower-in-melted-snow-because-now-the-water-is-going-to-get-shut-off” look
  • I can’t find my keys for the 11th time today and I am shedding actual tears because of it=The “you-are-holding-them-in-your-hand-dufus” look
  • I come home from a gig late night with false eyelashes, slutty makeup and one shoe with a broken heel= the “wanna-do-it?” look
  • He comes home from work in a bad mood and I have neighbors over, we are having a blast, some wine, kids are everywhere, no homework has been done, no birthday party thank-yous have been written, no dinner has been started and every single remaining Christmas present has been opened and is sitting in a pile in the living room floor and someone spilled something on the rug that he hasn’t noticed yet, but now he knows  about it after reading this blog=The “you-just-really-suck-as-a-mother-and-spouse‘ look.  (It’s important to note that this look is followed by my “NON-look” because I refuse to look at him at all for the rest of the night.  This is because I am on strike for him making me feel guilty.  I will set up shop to sleep on the couch, but it’s really uncomfortable, so I wake up at 1:45am with a crick in my neck and a Cheetos stuck in my hair.   I peek in the mirror and give myself a look called, “you-freakin’ idiot” and I slink up into bed.   It’s called projection, people.)
  • And finally, the ever alluring, I wrote this blog and published it so everyone we know can read it = The you-are-dead-to-me-and-lawyer-up” look.  (I will be expecting this look to walk in the door today around 4:45pm.)

Special mention looks worth adding are stares like “how-many-old-boyfriends-did-you-HAVE?”, “that’s-not-what-the-screwdriver-is-for”, “where-in-the-hell-is-my-brush-again”, “my-mother-was-right” and one of my personal favorites, the “there-is-something-really-really-wrong-with-you-please-get-help.”

One of these days, I am going to haul ass and give the look back.

Watch it, bucko.

Just kidding.  Cause for every look that I get, I have given him 500.  There is no doubt that I wear the bitch in the family.  I love Thor.  Hope he loves me back.

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Because Everyone Else’s Elf Jumped Off the Shelf…

Meet Billy Bob Joe, the Moran Elf.

Rambunctious, sassy, creative, good in the kitchen, at times aloof and always the first to draw out a giggle, Billy Bob Joe delights our family every morning with another witty hiding place.  Here are some highlights so far in the Moran 2011 Christmas holiday season….

Hurry! Time for WGN Morning News!

Elf jazz. Dig it.

Who Stole the Cookie From the Cookie Jar?

Elves get THIRSTY.

Elfmlette Anyone?

MadElfLibs

Prince Ken's Utter Devastation...

Come ON dude, what a mess!

Oh, Billy Bob Joe, key parties are soooo 1973.

Movie Night!

Baby, It's cold Inside the fridge, ya freak.

The Games Elves and Barbies Play When The Cat's Away...

Unfortunately, you can't see that Prince Ken has safari hot shorts halfway up his thighs.

Is it WRONG?

The Elf Jar: Dude, that's gotta hurt.

Thank You Billy Bob Joe for all the daily giggles and excitement…

More Elf mischief coming soon…Happy Holidays….

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Twas The Crappiest Day of Christmas.

Yesterday, I think I definitely had one of the more crappy days of the year.  But HEAR YE!  HEAR YE!  A Decree!   I hereby announceth that instead of being all moany and poorme, poorme, life suckity sucks about it, I am going to put a happy lens on the camera…a little fun twist, tinted green and red for the holidays….without further ado, here is the account of my very, merry shitty day yesterday, complete with jazz hands:

1.) Woke up with out the use of my right elbow. The pain was unbearable.  And I loved every minute of it.  Everyone should have an auto immune disease that attacks your joints.  Rheumatoid Arthritis for the house, bartender!

2.)Off to the dentist: OH EM GEE!!! It was so freakin’ fun! The excitement was high from the beginning as I was almost completely out of gas and there is not one mother trucking gas station 50 miles from where I live in Siberia. So I had a veritable BALL driving in the car with the heater off, on a 14 degree day, singing one of my favorite holiday ditties, “Please Santa, Get Me to the Dentist Soon Because I Will Die in the Cold If My Car Breaks Down on Fairfield Rd.” La! La! La!

When I arrived, it was all sunshine and roses, as every dental appointment usually is…I had to wait 30 minutes extra, but that’s ok because I didn’t really have any agenda for the day.

Once I finally got in the chair, the dental hygienist zapped my root nerves with the Invisilign thingy two times! I loved it so much, that she did it again. What a Christmas treat. It was so funny that I cried and I got a charlie horse in my toes from flexing for 60 straight minutes. I was totally bummed that there was an appointment after me because I REALLY wanted to have it done all over again…. *sigh * now, I have to wait 6 more months.

I really had to hurry home and get Cracker off the bus, but before that, I got to sing my “Christmas Santa Don’t Let me Die” song all the way on fumes to the closest gas station, praying that I could still make it home in time to get #3 off of the bus. BTW, the Shell station rocked.  I even got some gasoline on my brand new gloves! Luckily, I will be able to smell that for weeks and weeks.  Who needs perfume?  And isn’t it so awesome when it costs $70 to fill up your car? I love that.

3.) One of the most rewarding parts of my day was dressing up in Alpha’s Lacrosse jersey and going to to mall to stand at a gift wrapping booth to get donations, only to get treated like shit from every third person who walks by…the whole environment was oozing with Christmas spirit.  Who knew that no one would want to be nice and smile?  I was so excited when I finally wrapped one present.  ONE.  Huh.  Well, at least I bought a new outfit for the show, with the last of my cash in my account.  I think it makes me look really superfat, so life is awesome.

4.)  Oops, I forgot to eat today.  Hee Hee!!

5.) So I am really pumped because I get on the highway from the mall to head downtown and I am hoping, well, begging really, to be in Friday traffic for about 4 hours, but I was so bummed, ya’all!  I was only stuck in the car with no food or water and a dead cell phone for only 2.5 stinking hours.  Lame.

6.)  I get to the venue, which I will call, Cabaret Club, to find out I have only a reservation for 2 and need to cancel for the first time EVER.  WHAT????? WOOT!!!  WOOT!! WOOT!!  Hee Haw and Merry Christmas, I must be dreaming!  All this hard work really didn’t pay off, thank you Jesus.  Who would have thought, that the same show last year, which was a massive failure because it sold out  in less than a week, only to annoyingly add a repeat performance?  Glad THAT didn’t happen again this year!  Phew!  For me, ya’ll, the best part was that I still have to pay everyone.  That’s right, I had to PAY money to NOT do my show.  Schwing!

7.)  I felt like I won the lotto when I went to feed my meter after tech and found a parking ticket on my car for $75.  Just wake me from the dream.

8.)  I know I wasn’t going to be negative but the only really horrible thing that happened is that some girl found my discarded credit card near my car…she actually had the nerve to go home and Google my name, find out that I was, um, “performing” at Cabaret Club that night and called to say she was coming to bring it to me.  What a horrible person.  Karma is a bitch, lady.

OK…Truth?  For reals?   The best part of my night was the support of my pals,  BassMan, PianoMan and DrummerSub, my lighting/sound buddy TechFro, all the staff at Cabaret Club and Credit Card Angel.  And what really pulled me out of the muck was listening to some lovely music made my some really special pals.  Thank you.

Let’s do this again, bitches!  Tonight, take 2.  Heidey Ho and Merrrrryyyyy Christmassssss!!!!

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Feck.

FeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeckFeck

I love the word, fuck. Love it. But since it’s St’ Patty’s time, I like to say FECK. Feck Feck feck.

I am going to write a book.

I have decided this. My life is and always was, excessively goofy. It is pretty much a daily occurrence for something ridiculous to happen to me. And I think I owe it to my children to write this shit down. I am working on the outline now and I have already run unto a problem. I am getting to the high school years and now I don’t know what to do. I need to make a call here because there is some FECKED up shit and do they really have to know everything about their mother? I mean, I don’t know half of what my parents did and frankly, I. Don’t. Wanna.

Do they need to know about how I lost my maidenhood or how I scaled my wall drunk at their grandfather’s 40th birthday party? Do they want to read about how I chugged a bottle of Jack Daniels and peed on Sean Gorley’s living room carpet, only to wake up in his soccer uniform (shin guards included)? Must they hear about me trying to make out with a hot BBQ and do they really need to know about my crazy Boulder band daze?

I think not. So I will have to be really selective. But that crazy stuff. That’s the shit that I want to remember, too. It’s good for me. It puts hair on the chest. Reminds me that my kids are never going to be allowed to leave the fecking house. If I had my druthers, they would all be put in a convent until college. But then they might come out weird.

And so what do I call this blockbuster? Oprah’s next book club selection and the reason for my future Pulitzer?

Mama was a Slut but now she makes a mean PB and J? Mommy is bad with money and let me tell you why? How to fuck up a perfectly privileged childhood and education by Mommy? Hmm…Not so much.

I think I will focus on the fun stuff and remember that my children, even if full grown will be reading this and while I want to give them a true account of the many faces and places of Mommy, I want them to respect me. And so I guess I have to respect myself and leave out the scary crap. Maybe I should do and unabridged adult version. Entitled Mom does Porn.

Oh, this will be fun. One more thing for me to fit in my already insanely busy day.

Feck.

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