Friday, May 28, 2004

Yes, they're real...and they're FABULOUS!

***WARNING*** I'm going to be talking about boobs today so if this isn't your cup of tea, I suggest you close this page immediately and surf to something better...if that's your inclination, may I suggest SON OF CHEESE or FIZZLE & POP...anyway, on with the bloggin'!!

I have big boobs. I'm not sure why I was the one in the family to get stuck with them. No one else is encumbered the way I am. While they're okay to get a guy's attention, that seems to be all they remember. I have had men say, "Oh! Heather? The one with the boobs, right?" Ugh! My husband calls me Hootie McBoobs, a name he got from a Simpsons episode.

An old friend thinks that I got them from a bike accident. Allow me to explain. When I was about 9 or 10, Rhonda & I would ride our bikes at the Nazarene church. There was a big hill behind the building that led into a parking lot that was bordered by a big ditch. I was always terrified that I was going to fall into that ditch and be stuck forever. I would become the Ditch Dweller and school children would tell stories about me at slumber parties to scare their friends.

Anyhoo, one day we were riding our bikes down the hill and as I screamed down, I saw the ditch looming before me. I panicked and swung the bike to the left, causing me to fall off at a high rate of speed. I slid across the black top about five feet. Now the problem here is that I was wearing a triangle-shaped halter top and as I skidded across the pavement, it rode up, causing my stomach & my chest to be severely road rashed. Rhonda swears to this day that my boobs are really scar tissue and that's why they're so big.

I got to thinking, though, that if I've had big boobs in all my past lives (the ones where I was a woman, of course.) that it would have helped immensely when I was the topless Egyptian palace dancer. Speaking of, there was an article in the paper yesterday about a woman who is giving erotic dance lessons to anyone interested. I figure I could take them and relearn my first occupation!

Then again, maybe not.


Wednesday, May 26, 2004

I'm Just Sayin'

I have nothing funny today...just a couple of things I thought were worth yapping about. I finished the new Harlan Coben book this morning, Just One Look. It was about a huge secret that starts unraveling when Grace finds an old photo of her husband mixed in with the pics she picks up at the Photomat. That made me remember that that happened to me once.

Christina & I, as I mentioned in previous posts, were hockey groupies and we took hundreds of pictures. Right after the Avalanche won the Stanley Cup the first time, winger Rene Corbet made an appearance at Sears. Christina took about twelve pictures and got them developed right away at Walgreens. Two years later, we went to a different Walgreens to develop some more hockey pictures. After picking them up, we opened the packet right there in the store. At the bottom of the stack was a picture of Rene Corbet at Sears!

Now that's weird. I mean, there's no logical explanation for that. We were at different stores, it was years later, and she had used disposable cameras both times. How can you explain that?

Something spooky that happened yesterday was that I had a dream about my late uncle again. He spoke, too. I was getting into a camper with a friend of mine and Jim was holding the door open. He told me to "watch my head." All night long, I kept thinking about that. What was going to happen to my head? Luckily, nothing happened but I'm worried...I didn't understand the dream where he told me about the car accident so maybe I'm not getting this one either.

If you don't see any new posts for a while, you know something happened to my head.


Tuesday, May 25, 2004

That's Just Funny Right There

I mentioned a couple posts ago that I'm training a new guy at work. His name is Stan and he's turned out to be pretty darn entertaining. To keep himself awake while working our overnight shift, he talks my ear off. Sometimes, it's just about trivial things about wild animals or high school but this morning, it was a damn funny story that I thought I would share with all of you.

It seems that when Stan was about 8, he was told by his mother to get some lunch money from his father's wallet. She apparently trusted this kid although he quickly showed why she shouldn't. Stan didn't take a five or a ten or even a twenty. He snagged a fat one hundred dollar bill and instead of using it for lunch, stopped by a candy store with some of his friends on the way to school.

He marched right up to the counter and presented the lady with the bill. "What can I get with this," he asked. Now, he thinks that he was probably cheated out of some of the money but apparently he got a buttload of candy. He and his friends carried it all to school and made an announcement before the teacher came in that at recess they were all to meet at the merry-go-round.

Now, at this point in the story, I'm thinking that number one, sharing is a bad idea. If it was me, the candy would be ALL MINE! No one would be getting anything! But, Stan's a nice guy and wanted to share the wealth. Here's where point number two comes in. WHY would you share that amount of candy near an evil contraption like the merry-go-round? Just the name of the thing makes me dizzy and nauseous. But the class all met there and the candy was shared.

Apparently, the kids devoured the candy and then, buzzing on the sugar rush from hell, they piled on the merry-go-round and started spinning. You know where this is going. Suddenly, one kid spewed. That caused a chain reaction and everyone was puking everywhere...just imagine: twenty kids spinning and puking. Stan said you could see chunks of undigested candy in the puddles.

Maybe it was cuz it was 3am but I laughed my ass off at the vision of that story. Of course, the teacher's learned how the debacle started and Stan got in trouble for snatching the hundred dollar bill and feeding everyone candy.

Where was he when I was in school?


Saturday, May 22, 2004

I've Been Here Before

For as long as I can remember I've not only been enthralled with the idea of reincarnation but truly believed in it. Maybe it's just because I'm a hopeless romantic and like to think that in another life I had everything I ever wanted. I've always wanted to undergo a past life regression to see what I could recall but the logical part of my brain would tell me that I was dredging up memories from a movie I had seen or a book I had read.

However, there are things that are interesting to think about. Why am I completely and totally in love with anything Egyptian? Why does anything connected with Russia during the time of the Romanov tragedy & Rasputin affect me so deeply? Why do I have an irrational fear of bees when I've never been stung? These questions may be easily explained away by a non-believer but I wonder if it's scraps of my past lives intruding into the present one.

A few years ago, I went to the metaphysical fair here in town and had a past life reading done. She read my palm and was pretty accurate in what she came up with. She told me I loved anything to do with music &/or dancing and that in many of my lives I had been a dancer of some sort. The two lives that she specified were my first which took place in ancient Egypt (!!) where I was a palace dancer (I looked palace dancers up in my Dictionary of Ancient Egypt and they danced topless! I was one of the first exotic dancers in history! HA!) and one of the more recent where I was a ballerina. When I was in 4th grade I took ballet lessons and before that I actually bugged my mom to buy me a tutu. This woman had no reason to know those things about me. Apparently, my last life was as a race car driver in Europe. That would explain my love of fast driving and maybe even why I was so terrified of driving when I was younger. Maybe I died in a car accident during a race?

I've had dreams that make me wonder as well. When I was in junior high I had a dream that I was older and married to some really rich guy. We lived in a mansion next to a huge lake. I was having an affair and my husband found out. I came home in a driving rainstorm, wearing a rain slicker-like poncho. He confronted me and strangled me to death, dumping my body in the lake, wrapped in the poncho. The end of the dream took place years later when the body was discovered by the police...the body was in surprisingly good shape and you could see the bruises on her (my) neck. Why would a 7th grader have a dream like that? To this day, the details are still sharp in my mind.

When my brother was little, he was fascinated with the Civil War (the Confederacy in particular) and guns. He knew things about guns that a kid not even in school shouldn't know. He was also enthralled by ships but especially The Titanic. He started drawing pictures of the ship, both sailing and sinking. One day he drew a picture of Captain Edward J Smith. He made him tall with white hair and a full white beard and mustache. I asked him where he had seen the captain and he said he hadn't, he just thought that's how he looked. A few weeks later we found a book at the library on The Titanic and there was a picture of ol' E.J. It was practically identical to what Derek had drawn. I think he was a passenger on the ship in his last life.

It may or may not be true, reincarnation. But if it is true, I hope that my next life is pleasant and full of love & laughter. May yours be also.


Thursday, May 20, 2004

I Got Nothin'

Sometimes, I feel bad that Mom is such a fount of amusement for us. Most of the time, though, I just laugh at her and share the fun.

A couple years ago Mom, Dad & I were going to Parker. We were listening to the radio and a commercial came on. By now, I've forgotten what the product was that was being hyped but it was a female voiceover. She said something like "I just come up empty when I try to think of how to make my garden look better." Not thinking about how it was going to sound to Dad & I, Mom busts out with "That's MY problem. I just got nothin' in my head."

Of course, she meant when it came to gardening but this was right after the now infamous "I'm smarter by myself" comment so Dad & I ended up laughing pretty much the rest of the trip.



Tuesday, May 18, 2004

Shock the Monkey

I had a tough time deciding who to write about this morning...Mom? Derek? Mom? Derek? I chose Derek. I love this story and was just telling my trainee at work about it.

At work we deal with secure products which means that static can not only damage the parts but completely blow them to hell with just the spark that comes from you walking across a carpet in tennies. I have a guy I'm training now and he was studying the ElectroStatic Discharge spec last night. He was amazed at how much power you could generate by scooting your socked feet across a carpet. Don't ask me how much because I don't know...I wasn't the one studying the spec! Ha!

Anyways, it made me think of the time that Derek was standing in the living room in front of the TV. He was probably 8 or so. I was across the room in my stocking feet and suddenly an evil little idea popped into my brain. "Stay right there," I instructed him. He obeyed, watching innocently as I shuffled across the carpet with all my might.

"Okay, now SMILE," I told him when I was standing in front of him. He did, a nice big toothy grin. I reached out with my index finger and touched his teeth. The biggest, bluest spark I've ever seen, even to this day, flew from his mouth. He says it hurt...

Maybe THAT's what turned his brain switch to evil?


Monday, May 17, 2004

When Ya Gotta Go...

I remember a Calvin & Hobbes cartoon that I cut out of the newspaper and taped to my bedroom mirror. It hung there for years. Calvin was in class and he raised his hand and said "I have to go." The last frame is him walking into his kitchen and he tell his surprised mother, "I had to go." So the moral here is: when ya have to go, ya have to go.

So...every morning at 4am, Prescilla & I go walking on our last break from work. We walk two and a half miles around the neighborhood. Most of the time it's peaceful with no cars, maybe a few deer or the occasional fox. Lately, we've been running into the newspaper deliverers. This morning was no exception. They had passed us a couple of times on the street plus we had a flashlight so they knew we were there.

They pulled their car over to the side of the street and both got out. The man leaned against the driver's door, the woman got out and ran onto the sidewalk. We were far enough away that we weren't sure what she was doing but it was obvious that she was crouching or squatting next to some bushes. "Oh, my God," I whispered, "I think she's peeing."

"No, I think it's a little kid," Prescilla answered.

"No, it's a woman and I think she's peeing!" We got a little closer and we saw her stand up and PULL UP HER PANTS then run back into the car. We passed her as she shut the door. And there, on the sidewalk, was a big puddle of pee rolling down the cement. There were bushes, but she chose the sidewalk. There's a 7-11 down the street one way, a Diamond Shamrock the other way but she chose the sidewalk. There's Quail Lake park ten feet away with port-o-lets but SHE CHOSE THE SIDEWALK! I'm sorry but that's just gross.

I got back to work and told Morris about the incident. He suggested maybe she wasn't from here. Where do you have to be from that it's good manners to pee on a sidewalk? When you can see people coming towards you? The mind wobbles.

Prescilla & I also started wondering if the man standing by the driver's side had also been peeing. Then she thought that he was protecting the girl. My thought: "He should have been standing in front of her bare ass if he wanted to protect her!"


Friday, May 14, 2004

Heather's Dictionary

I heard somewhere that it's a sign of genius if you make up your own words. If that's true, then Dad's Genius Gene is at work in me! I make up my own words all the time. Sadly, I forget them right away most of the time so maybe I'm not a genius after all. But anyway, here's a few of my own words:

LOPSIDEDY (Lop-sye-did-ee) [adj] Describes the way an object leans. First made up about 4 years ago when I was driving through my in-law's trailer park. There was one trailer with a giant star on the side of it made with lights. It was never point stuck out way farther than the others. It was practically a Christmas tradition to see that lopsidedy star. Much to my dismay, the guy bought a level or a ruler or something last year...the star is now perfect.

AMOEBAEY (A-mee-buh-ee) (adj) Decribes the way an animal can look practically boneless. First made up about two years ago when my cat Murphy started flopping on the floor as far down as he could. All four limbs splayed on his sides, chin flat on the floor, body pressed against the floor. Midnight and Mom & Dad's squirrel have lately begun practicing the art of being amoebaey. It can also be used in this way: "Murphy went amoeba again."

CONVERNATION (con-ver-nay-shun) [noun] Form of the word confirmation. Used in radio divining games to make sure the first answer was correct. First made up about 2 years ago while sitting in my car on break with my friend Christina. To entertain ourselves, we would play what was called "Radio Games." We would consult the radio Gods and ask them things like "What does Mike think of Christina?" and then I would hit a preset station and depending on the mode of divining we had chosen, either the song itself or just the first full song line would be the answer to the question. Most of the time, though, we'd get something strange like "The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald" or a line from a Metallica song which would seemingly have nothing to do with our question. A convernation is what we called a second chance in ascertaining what the radio Gods really meant.

When I think of other words I'll let you know!


More Recommendations From Me

Since I'm in the midst of yet another crippling attack of writer's block, I've been doing a lot of reading to help remedy this situation. A while back, Shanon let me borrow all ten books in the "A Series Of Unfortunate Events" series. I have so far read the first five and have to tell those of you that have not read these books...YOU MUST DO SO FORTHWITH! They are hilarious. Lemony Snicket tells the tragic tales of the Baudelaire orphans, Violet, Klaus & Sunny and along the way throws in snippets of his life as well when you least expect it. I was reading them at work Tuesday night and was approached and asked why I kept laughing. In fact, the subheader up there is a quote from one of those books. So...there's my latest recommendation.



Wednesday, May 12, 2004

I'm a joker...

Yet again, it's time for another episode of "FUNNY THINGS MY MOM HAS SAID!" {insert applause here}

Last weekend, Mom & I went over to Derek's new house for ice cream, drinks and Euchre. Before any of that started, however, we were all sitting around the living room, talking. I don't know how the subject came up but Mom suddenly says, "I heard a song on the radio today and I think it was dirty!"

"What was it?" We all are curious about this 'dirty' song.

"Well, I've heard it a lot before but never paid attention to it. It was something like, 'I really like...'"

Derek stepped in at this point and started singing Steve Miller's classic 'The Joker' "I really love your peaches, want to shake your tree." Mom was amazed.

"How did you know?"

"It's a good song." And he sang the line again.

"Peaches? OH! I thought he said BEACHES! 'I really love your BEACHES wanna shake your tree and I thought it was know...beaches...tree..." and then, just like you see on TV, in the movies and read about in books, she lowers her voice to say a word that she's embarrassed by..."bush."

We all rolled. We had to explpain what Steve Miller meant by peaches, etc. Mom will never fail to entertain us.


Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Oooo! Spooky Things Are Afoot...

Earlier, Derek posted about how our late Uncle Jim helped him get his new house. He mentioned in the comments that Jim had warned me from beyond the grave about a car accident that I was going to have. I have to admit that until I read that, I had completely forgotten about it. In fact, I didn't even remember what Jim had said; thankfully, Derek & Mom did.

I had a dream one night that I saw Uncle Jim. In dreams when you see a deceased relative or someone you know and they don't speak, it doesn't mean much...just that they had been on your mind. But if they do happen to tell you something PAY ATTENTION!! It's a commonly known fact that they speak only when they feel they have warn you of something or to help you out. In my dream, Jim told me "Only a little bit and you'll be okay."

It turned out that the next day, Mom & I were on our way to see "The Patriot" when a giant mobile home switched lanes and clipped the back end of Mom's car, sending us spinning out of control into oncoming traffic. It was a miracle that we weren't hit again as we spun between other cars and that neither of us were hurt. Her car was damaged "only a little bit" and we were "okay."

A few years before, my Dad woke up and saw his late father (Charles from Derek's previous post) sitting in the rocking chair across from the bed. He just smiled at Dad before fading away. After he told me this, I got all mad and yelled, "Why doesn't anyone come & see ME?" The next afternoon, I woke up and walked into the living room to find the front door ajar. Concerned, I walked up to shut it, thinking maybe the wind had blown it open when I realized the handle lock and the dead bolt were BOTH in the LOCKED position. The next morning I had a dream where Grandpa told me it had been him who had opened the door. He laughed when he told me he had come to visit!

We get mail for Grandpa & Jim very rarely at my house anymore. But when I was first married I lived in a loft apartment. About 6 months or so after the wedding, I got a free installation disc from America OnLine, addressed to Jim Knight. I told Dad I figured it was a wedding present. Dad agreed, saying Jim wasn't ever the most punctual guy ever.

We're kind of a spooky family when you think about it. But at least it's never dull.


Thursday, May 06, 2004

Nightmare On Glenarm Road

There are people out there who say they don't remember their dreams...I'm definitely not one of those people. Not only do I remember my dreams, I remember them for years and years and years! It's usually the nightmares that stay with me like the one where I slammed into a brick wall while driving the old Dodge. I used to have nightmares all the time about driving when I was little so when it came time to start learning to drive, I was terrified. I didn't get my license until I was 18!

My first nightmare (at least the first one I remember) ever took place when I lived on Glenarm which meant I was between 3 & 7 years old. Pretty young for a dream like this...stay with me here. It might have been scary to a young kid but it's really kind of funny...

I had walked into my parents' bedroom and was getting into something on the dresser. In a frame on top of the bureau was a picture of Florence Henderson. It was a normal headshot photo. I didn't pay too much attention to the picture until she started talking to me! She was saying mean things and scowling...I was SO scared! I couldn't get her to shut up so I opened the window and threw the photo out. It hit the ground below (I was on the second floor of the apartment) and the frame shattered. Florence Henderson's head was FREE! It sprouted little tiny legs and ran away, still talking smack!

Now, see? If I had that dream today, I'd wake up laughing. Then, however...I was horrified. It was a long long time before I could watch The Brady Bunch without being scared spitless by Carol Brady.


Wednesday, May 05, 2004

The Root Of The Problem

We've mentioned so many times on our respective blogs how evil Derek is. Sometimes I think he was born that way but sometimes I think he just didn't have a chance. He was turned evil by circumstances beyond his control. And he probably doesn't even remember what happened, even though he claims to remember being born.

I'm not sure which order these two events happened but he was about the same age: a few months old. Derek always had a problem with balance. Sit him down and within seconds he would fall over. We actually have time lapse photos of him on the couch sitting up straight, falling and finally fallen on his face. One day Mom was in the kitchen and had sat Derek down on the floor in front of the sliding glass door. As usual, there he went...except when he fell over, his head hit the glass door and it shattered. Derek wasn't cut nor did he cry at all but he sure hit his head hard.

One day we were in the old Dodge. Derek was in the carseat, riding in the middle of the front seat. Without warning, the rearview mirror fell off and hit him square in the head. Not sure if he cried on that one or not.

But the point I'm trying to make is you know how you hear when people get whacked in the noggin it can change their whole personality? I'm thinking that may have been what happened to Derek. He was probably supposed to be this kind soul, rivaling Ghandi and then these head injuries occur and BAM! He's evil!

At least that's what I'm gonna start telling people when they ask me what's wrong with him.


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