More the bomb than ever before

I may have led you to believe recently that I was, in fact, the bomb. And this may very well have been true at the time. But I tell you that now, more than ever, do I not only claim, but rightfully own the title of The Bomb.

Today I managed to bike all the way to the end of the trail and back and still make it up the dreaded Hill at the End.

I simply refused to fail, for over eight miles.

Mari, Kelly, and Brooke were with me. It was a really nice day, not too hot, and since we rode later in the evening the sun wasn’t really bright either. Most of the trail is shaded by beautiful trees, but in some places you come out into the light–today, those times were perfectly fine, as the sun didn’t so much beat down on us as just kind of bask us in its glow. The perfect weather for exercise.

I didn’t go particularly fast, but I wasn’t a slowpoke, either; sometimes I was towards the end but a few times I was leader of the pack. I did stop for water–lots of water–but the breaks were short and rejuvenating, and for the most part it was me getting on the bike and pulling out first.

I guess today I just really felt like riding.

Media bias; plus, what I’m up to

I love it when Den Beste points these things out. What you see or read on the news really is just a matter of how the news organization wants to frame the information they’ve received.

I finished off Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban with time to spare before seeing the movie last night. I must say, it’s my favorite book so far. That may have tempered my opinion of the movie, too, because I came away from it feeling like it was the best of the three, while Kelly was far less impressed.

Regardless of whether or not the movie is actually good, I stand by my opinion that the soundtrack is the best of the Harry Potter music, and is indeed the best from John Williams that I’ve heard in awhile. The man is my idol, musically, but of late he has taken to essentially plagiarizing himself. (For example, of all the music in The Phantom Menace, the only truly unique theme was “Duel of the Fates”. For a more relevant example, the main theme we hear when a Harry Potter movie opens or is advertised is almost exactly the same as a spooky, magical little melody from Hook.)

Having blown through three Harry Potter novels, I’m starting to feel like a real reader again. In fact, tonight I finally started reading The Time Traveler’s Wife…and it is really, really good. I’ve missed being a reader; I haven’t been voracious about it since sometime in high school. The only thing I don’t really like about reading is having to handle the books. There is no comfortable way to read. I have three typical positions, which I switch off as I get uncomfortable: on my back, holding the book over my face; on my stomach, with the book resting on my pillow; and sitting cross-legged, leaning down towards the book. Depending on the size and weight of the book, lying on my back, which is otherwise the most comfortable position, can be a true hassle.

I don’t particularly like reading things of novel length on my computer, because I have no real way of stopping. It’s not like I can put a bookmark in exactly where I want to (although I don’t know about ebook software, and whether or not this is possible with that). I have read in the La-Z-Boy we got from Sean’s parents, and it works out okay: I can prop my elbows on the armrests, which is something of a relief to my arms. Maybe with a pillow in my lap it would work out…

It might be fun to take a book over to the workout room at the apartment clubhouse and read while walking on a treadmill. I may try that at some point; more exercise would definitely be a good thing.

Work has been much better than it was on Monday and last week. I’m not sure what my problem was, but at least part of it can be attributed to hormones and lack of sleep. Yesterday I had something of a bad experience on a call, but I refused to let it bother me. I was pretty impressed with myself afterwards. If it had happened on Monday, I’m not sure what would have happened.

Mari and Brooke and I were supposed to bellydance today, but things didn’t work out. Hopefully we will be bike-riding tomorrow, and maybe we can squeeze in some bellydance too. I would like to get myself on a regimen of going through all the basic bellydance motions, several times each, every day. I got the idea from Mari; it would be a fantastic aerobic/muscular workout. Now I just need to figure out what time of day I want to do it. I would have time in the morning if I got up at 5 (like I usually try to), but I would also have time right after work, in the “dead” time between then and when I have to start making dinner. I suppose I could just dedicate myself to doing it during one of those two times.

I need to go grocery shopping and pick up some meat for the week, and vegetables. Perishable food is the bane of my existence…I have trouble actually using it up before it goes bad. At the same time, though, I really want to start eating fresh foods, and stop using packaged/processed products.

As a final note…I found a couple new blogs to read recently. One belongs to a 17 year old and the other belongs to a 73 year old. I found them through Blogger’s new profile feature…I have “emotion” listed as one of my interests, and out of curiosity I clicked it to see if anyone else had used that word too. Interestingly, only a handful of people came up. Of those, I found myself drawn to these two: goei and rare.

rare has a sort of rambling, stream-of-consciousness, yet somehow practiced and beautiful flow to his writing, and yesterday he wrote something that really touched me, so I would like to share it.

I am the BOMB! (Warning: two references to children’s stories!)

So, bike riding was awesome. I didn’t have to stop and walk at all, including the very last stretch where we have to labor up a long hill just to get back to Mari and Kelly’s place. I have never made it all the way up that hill before. Always, I’ve tried to give myself some momentum, pumping hard to force my way up the hill, and always I have fizzled out long before I reach the top. This time, I didn’t even try to speed up; I just kept going at a regular pace (yes, slow and steady, like the hare [tortoise! I meant tortoise! Sheesh, and I call myself a TMNT fan…]). Towards the end I was really pushing myself. I was almost there…I was almost there…it was like the Little Engine Who Could or something. And then I was there, and Mari and Kelly were congratulating me, and my legs were burning with the sweet pain of success.

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Giving up

I’m at a dangerous point right now, where I want to give up and run away from many things. Primarily I want to quit my job, but yesterday I started feeling discouraged about exercise as well. I don’t want how I’m currently feeling to screw me up, but right now it’s so easy to just want to stop worrying about working or exercising and just lose myself in books and anime.

Yesterday, between Harry Potter movies, Mari, Brooke and I went bike-riding. The two of them have been riding much longer than I have, and they both ride more frequently than I do. They also do other exercise, like walking or going to the gym. I am way behind both of them in terms of fitness.

I was successful in not letting this get to me until yesterday, when we rode down a different way on the bike trail. There was hardly any coasting to be had; it was all pedaling, and by the time we got back to the regular stretch my legs literally would not move. It was like the muscles didn’t want to function. I could walk fine, and I wasn’t particularly out of breath, so this was extraordinarily annoying to me. I felt like the Supreme Wuss of Wussonia.

So they went on, and I headed back towards the apartment, just wanting to die.

When they finally got back, they were panting heavily and glowing and smiling. As they talked about what a pain their ride had been, I was so jealous. I wanted to be pushing myself to the limit, going further. I wanted to be able to ride my bike really fast over 7+ miles, and then grin and complain about it. Already I was feeling those old familiar feelings…I should have been able to do that. I just quit because I’m a baby. I’m so lazy and stupid.

“Someday I’ll catch up to you guys,” I said, trying to bolster my spirits, but it really didn’t work. I’m back at that point yet again where I realize I’m not the best at something and that it will take a lot of work to catch up. This is the point at which I usually stop trying…at which I give in to my self-brainwashing. Too fat/stupid/ugly/lazy/untalented/boring to do what I feel like I want to be or should be doing.

It seems like I keep being faced with these huge challenges, and my emotions are warring with themselves over every one of them. Do I stand and fight for the first time in my life? Or do I continue to run?

How many times have I had this conversation with myself?

Happy Birthday to me!

Last year, when I turned 25, I was in a new city with few acquaintances and family around me. I knew that I wasn’t going to be getting a sweet little birthday party like I would have gotten at home, with cake and presents and a nice family dinner. So I decided to have my own party.

I invited all the people I had met through Sean’s friend Paul to come over one evening to play games, eat dinner, and hang out. I baked and decorated my own chocolate cake with white frosting. And I cooked a meal, which I think was curry beef (I’ve cooked for friends several times in the past year, so I’m having trouble remembering).

We played cards and videogames, and just talked and ate. It was a fun time. Leonard skunked me, Kelly, and Chris at Hearts, although I was doing pretty well. I think Mari and Kathy spent the entire evening talking about bellydancing ;) And Dave, Paul, and Sean (and maybe some others, I can’t quite remember now) stayed glued to the TV, playing some sort of game on the Xbox. (We don’t have one; two guests brought theirs and we hooked them up to both of our TVs.)

My guests had fun and I had fun. I remember thinking, though, that only a loser would have to organize her own birthday party. Why didn’t people want to throw me one? Didn’t anybody like me? But I squashed these thoughts as best I could, with the logic that I was new in town, and not many people knew it was my birthday anyway.

A year passed; I became close to Mari, Kelly, and Chris, and added a new friend, Brooke. The time for my birthday came around again.

This time, I didn’t even think about people throwing me a party. Instead, I already knew what I wanted–to spend time celebrating my birthday with my new friends. So I announced my intention to have a party, and we all picked a date–yesterday–and agreed on what to do–watch anime, eat Japanese food delivered from Mikoto, and go bowling.

I bought snack food, drinks, ice cream, and a “backup cake”. Kelly made his famous chess cake (which is sinfully rich and delicious) and he and Mari brought M&M sugar cookies. Brooke didn’t have to work, so she was able to come this time. Chris, unfortunately, already had plans for that weekend, so he wasn’t able to make it. Apparently he is willing to commit seppuku to make up for this crime ;>

When everyone arrived, we first just hung out talking while Kelly made the chess cake. (He is only a month away from getting a full-size kitchen! Woohoo!) While the cake baked, we watched the first five episodes of Naruto–up through the bell test. I think Brooke is afraid of Kakashi ;> Then we took some time out from our snacking on chips, dip, veggies, and cheese to eat cake and ice cream. By the time we were done, we were so stuffed that we pretty much had to go out and take two laps around the apartment complex, which we did. The geese hissed at us to stay away from their goslings, beaks parted and long round tongues sticking out. Mari and I led the pack, while Brooke and Kelly hung back and talked. We all had way too much sugar :D

Mari and Kelly had brought their Gamecube and some games, so we started playing when we got done with our walk. I didn’t care too much for Super Smash Bros., mostly because I had no idea what I was doing. Warioware was really fun–and really strange. (To the delight of the others, I entered my name as “fuck”. This led to some interesting phrases on the screen in the minigames, like “while praising fuck…” and “li’l fuck wins!” I had really only chosen the name because “Heather” was too long ;>) Mario Kart was, of course, Mario Kart–I can play racing games until the cows come home. But I think my favorite game of the evening, which took forever and a half to finish, was Mario Party 5. Lots of different games to play while trying to gather the most stars–there was strategy and then pure chance, just like a real board game. I was in the lead, but Brooke came from behind at the very end with a zillion “bonus points” to take the win. (It reminded me of Gryffindor conveniently besting Slytherin in the first Harry Potter book…;>)

We stopped playing Mario Party to eat dinner. It was fantastic–several shared appetizers, sushi, and miso soup for me. Then we finished off our game before finally heading out to Brunswick for bowling.

Our lane was pretty shitty–when the bowling guy tells you that “it was messed up, but now it’s fixed”, just ask for another lane :> The monitor was all screwed up so that the option buttons were hanging off the edge of the screen (or, later, scrunched into the middle, but you had to touch the part of the screen where they would normally be in order to access them, which was challenging). The pin counter got things wrong several times–I think I lost three points due to that, but maybe more. And the pinsetter also messed up a few times, leaving one pin missing when it set them all up for the next person.

But we didn’t let it bother us too much. Kelly and Brooke, totally hopped up on sugar, continued their running gag from Mario Party, in which they would count by flipping each other off. “How many pins are left, Brooke? One?”–and the middle finger would be up, somewhere; scratching an eyebrow, tucked against the chest or body, etc. Brooke was laughing uncontrollably for much of the time :)

I did really well in the first game, getting strikes and spares galore; my score was 147! The second game didn’t go as well; my arm was fatigued from holding and throwing the ball, and my balance had started going off a little, so I wasn’t as deft as I’d been. I did manage a few strikes and spares, but my final score was something like 98. We’d paid for two hours (and gotten a pitcher of Sprite as part of the deal), so we didn’t have time to finish a third game. That was fine by us, because we were pretty tired by then–it was after midnight!

All in all, it was great fun. I was really glad to get to spend that much time with my friends, and do all those fun things :) I’d originally wanted to watch much more anime than we ended up watching, but that’s no big deal. It can get boring just sitting around watching stuff with no breaks for something else. And plus, playing those games was great!

Mari, Kelly, Brooke, and Chris also all chipped in to get me a great birthday present: Friends season 2! :D Mari said, “It’s so fitting, to get Friends from your friends!” Kelly’s response: “That’s so clever, Mari.” ;D They also gave me a hilarious card; on the cover is a picture of the view a driver has while driving a car, and in the rear-view mirror is…Death! Inside the card, it says “Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.” ;D

I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday party. I’m not sure anything would have happened if I hadn’t organized it, but unlike last year, I don’t think that makes me a loser, or unloved. Think of it this way: how many times have you organized a party for someone else? ;> I think planning your own party is really the best way to go, because you know that you’re going to do stuff that you like. Plus, your friends don’t have to worry about what they should do for you–all they have to do is show up. It really just takes the stress off for everyone. The proactive approach: always a good choice. :)

Today is my actual birthday. I got a call from Grandma Flo to wish me a happy day :) She was hoping to come over and give me my card, but I had already made plans to go to Mari and Kelly’s for a Harry Potter bingefest. So she’s going to mail it. I feel bad about not being able to see her, but I wish she’d given me more notice.

Cheryl and Reid are down in Beaufort (pronounced Buford, which is really confusing because there is also a Buford, GA) this weekend, hanging out with Cheryl’s friend Martha at the beach. They’ll be going to the lake as soon as they get back. Since they knew they wouldn’t be seeing me, they already sent me my card :)

Mom is sending me something, too, and I have no idea what it is. All I know is that it’s late ;>

So now I’m looking forward to a fun day of working out and watching the Harry Potter movies with Mari and Brooke. What a nice weekend :)

Never cut and dry

I was told today that I have “some” ovary damage, and that in order to conceive I will need to see an endocrinologist.

This is good news because it means there is still hope. But I had been preparing myself for a more definitive answer.

You’d think I’d be used to being strung along by now.

Just in case any of you were confused, the previous post was written by my husband.

I fell asleep sometime yesterday afternoon and didn’t get up again until this morning. I didn’t want to get up even then, but duty calls. Work is really annoying right now because I’m doing order-taking and dispatch, two things I never wanted to do, and which I told Robert time and time again that I didn’t want to do. He has invested some time in talking me into it; this happens every week or so. The last time, I got a $0.50/hr raise, which unfortunately doesn’t make it any more worth it to me.

It’s not that I can’t do it, I can–I just don’t want to. I don’t like having to drop everything and answer the phone in a cheery voice, and I don’t like having to try and figure out who’s where and how fast they can get whatever food to someplace else.

Compounding the issue are all the problems we’ve been having lately. We manage to pull it off, but it’s by the skin of our teeth. I feel that we are severely unprepared for what we’ve gotten ourselves into, and since I’m the one answering the phone, I’m the one who’s going to get to hear about it when we finally slip up. It’s going to happen, if something doesn’t change soon.

So far, people have been patient and understanding, and I’ve really appreciated that…but how long can it last?

A big issue is the fact that we don’t have enough personnel. This is especially annoying today because I am really not in the mood to be at work, but I can’t even have a lunch break because Robert is out of the office doing the deliveries. We need another delivery driver and we need another office worker.

In my dream world, we would have an order taker/dispatcher working during my shift, and not just coming in at 1 like Robert has planned. I would do backup order-taking only, and really I’d prefer that we have several people working from home taking orders during the day so that I would never have to it at all. I don’t even really want to manage the order takers, but I guess that would be better than having to take the orders directly.

I don’t know if my dream world will ever come to be.

The most hectic times are between 11 and 1, I’ve noticed. People seem to realize that they’re hungry at 11, but by 1 they have probably made their arrangements. So things have calmed down a bit now.

I missed a call earlier due to being on the phone with someone else. Fortunately, she left a voice message, so I called her back. I missed another call due to not being logged in to receive calls, and I was distracted trying to do something anyway, so I just let it go.

I hate shoddy service. But that’s all we can apparently provide at this point.

It just feels like we were never prepared to do this, and we’re still not prepared, and I’m starting to wonder if we’ll ever be prepared for anything. Mom and I tend to over-prepare well in advance…I like that system a lot better. It may not be business-savvy, because I guess you’d lose money more often than not that way, but at least you would know what you were doing before you had to do it.

I hope 2go-Box starts turning a huge profit so that we can do everything we need to do.

And I wish today was Friday! :P

You could say that all of this stress is good because it’s distracting me from the issues weighing on my mind, and that might be true, but I’m not sure. I think it’s more likely that the issues weighing on my mind are adding to the phenomenal stress that already exists. There’s no way of telling for sure, because the delivery service and my “period” (or whatever) started at around the same time…but I think I would be annoyed and stressed about this kind of work regardless of anything else. I have never liked this sort of thing and I doubt I ever will.

I just want a job where I can work mostly by myself, maybe discussing things with a few others in person or through email/chat. I want to be able to do a wide variety of things, including menial tasks, because there are some days that I’m in the mood for that. I want to be challenged mentally in areas that are interesting to me. I want, ultimately, for my job to be a part of who I am–something that I do because I like to, and not because I have to because I need money in order to enjoy myself and take my mind off of work.

I thought I had that sort of job, but it sure hasn’t been that way lately.

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Living up to my name.

Heather fell alseep in my arms many hours ago now. We have the air conditioner going pretty much non-stop, but for some reason or another the house still seems a bit warm. Long story short: I woke up because I was uncomfortable from the heat. She meanwhile is still soundly asleep.

There’s not alot to add from what she already said about the visit. I’ve directed my emotions into the role of Devils’ advocate and the ugly, ugly realist that lurks in corners and dashes hopes. I’d like to think the truth might prepare her for the pain, but I think we all know that’s folly. There’s entirely too much emotion wrapped up in this subject for any acceptance of the truth.

The reality is that she is still menopausal and we’ve seen an overgrowth of the lining. It most conviently explains the “Why now?” question without introducing any miracles or beating incredible odds. The simplest answer is usually the right one.

I am more upset that this aspect of nature had to arrive now. In some way I feel like it’s a very cruel joke. Suddenly after five years a little gremlin of the body has set her up for a painfall fall again. It tossed out a tasty treat that was impossible to ignore.

I ask for Heather to try and ignore those hopes. To accept the painful answer now, but I might as well ask a STOP sign to say GO. She wants a child so badly that it basically haunts her. I don’t know if she’ll ever escape that ghost.

Of course another painful reality is that I can’t make this pain go away. No amount of tears, love, or comfort can make this better and I think that’s what hurts me the most. This is a ghost that tortures us both in different ways.

Today’s the day

Although test results might be a day or two, this is the day of the actual testing. Understandably, I’m a little nervous, and trying not to be.

I have to work a half day today, and then leave at 11 and meet up with Sean for lunch. After lunch we’re going to work out some car insurance stuff. Then, at 3:30, I’m going to see a gynecologist.

I’ve been thinking about so much lately–getting a house, how if we have a child I want a car with air conditioning, where my “career” is going and how I can start making more money, how and when we’ll ever go back to Japan. Sean and I already determined that we will have to wait at least a year before we’re ready for a child. I’ve been wondering if that’s enough time to get everything settled…I really don’t want to live paycheck to paycheck, I want some assets and investments.

My business plan is something that will really have to wait until we’re more financially stable. I’ve been thinking that real estate might be the way to go. If I can just buy up some property and rent it…I think that would be a good way to build wealth. I just need to figure out how to do it.

Of course, there’s always the chance that we can’t have children anyway, that all these dreams and hopes are based on nothing.

I hope the doctor can give us a definitive yes. I feel so naive, but that’s what’s in my heart.

A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day

Today sucked.

I thought the period was over, but it evidently wasn’t. I hit the high point for emotionalism today, and then got some fresh spotting in the afternoon. By the time I made it home after my Workday from Hell, there was quite a bit of blood to clean up–fortunately I’ve been wearing a pad “just in case”.

If that was too much information…well, I don’t fucking care.

Work was just horrible–or, as I put it to AJ, “SUCKITY SUCK SUCK SUCK”. I have like three times the responsibilities now, but I’m still being paid $6.50 an hour. This week was especially stressful because of the new delivery service. I had to take orders and dispatch the driver, and every time something went wrong I would get really upset. I hate not providing good service, and I hate having dissatisfied customers. It’s our job to please them, so when we fail, I feel that we are just screwed.

Due to this perfectionism about customer service, I don’t think that high-pressure customer service jobs are right for me. But you know, I guess that doesn’t really matter when we can’t afford to give me what I’m worth, much less hire someone else.

Add to this my regular responsibilities, plus my boss throwing new things in my inbox all. the freaking. time. and you have a recipe for me sitting on the toilet in the office bathroom bawling my eyes out.

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A blog entry from 1994.

The first of my old diary entries is up. This one is from when I was 15 (I would turn 16 in two months) and a sophomore in high school.

I had a little trouble with Blogger…first of all, I don’t like any of their new templates. I’ll have to design a new one myself (I’d rather not use the same one I use over here, though the new design might have echoes of this one). Second, I can’t set the post date back further than 1999. I was hoping to be able to set them to the exact dates that my diary entries were originally written. I’ve emailed Blogger support to request that feature…we’ll see.

In the meantime, I’ll have plenty to do getting this site compliant with all the new features (including the integrated comments) and designing a new template!

As far as the post itself goes…it’s fairly representative of my writing back then. I tended to ramble and obsess over potential and nonexistent love interests. My prose wasn’t very tight back then, but I’m not particularly embarrassed by it. Like everything else, my writing has evolved over the years.

The fact that MP was interested in me was something that fascinated me at the time. He was very good looking, and had a sort of tragic air about him that teenage girls flock to. His life wasn’t the best, and one time in a fit of angst he threw himself out in front of a car. As far as I know, he was uninjured.

Basically, he was the type of guy that a girl just wanted to mother.

After almost-but-not-quite having sex with J (I’m not actually sure what happened, since my memory of what was said is warped by my primitive understanding of sex at that time)*, P moved on to her friend…A I think was her name. He quickly got her pregnant, and they got married and moved to Florida. I developed the opinion that his goal the whole time had been to get someone, anyone, pregnant so he’d have a reason to move out of his mother’s house. But who knows, really? I think that opinion was at least partially affected by my feelings of resentment at having been so easily passed on.

You’ll see more of P in later entries.

Also featuring in this post is DF. You’ll see this name often in my high school posts. D was, essentially, my dream guy. As I told my discussion group at GSP (a memory I now cringe at), “I even love the warts on his hands.” *cringe!* (Emotions evolve too, but yeesh.)

Complicating this matter was the fact that J liked D too. I think it was just my lot in life back then to like the same guys as my friends. It ultimately didn’t matter, though, because he was completely uninterested in either of us.

For those who are curious, D is now an actor on Star Trek: Enterprise. No, seriously. Apparently back in February, his role was expanded. Now his character even has a name! :>

He still doesn’t have an entry on the IMDb, nor is he listed on the Enterprise page on startrek.com. To be honest, I’ve actually never seen him on Enterprise (since I don’t watch it). An elaborate hoax by the Jessamine Journal?!

Maybe I should download that episode in which he supposedly features…it’s this one, as far as I can tell.

* Update 2005/03/12: I’m not in the habit of censoring things that have already been published. That goes against my personal ethics. I am not a revisionist; I want people reading this journal to see nothing but the truth of who I am and who I have been throughout my life. What I wrote in this post was what I knew and how I felt at the time, and so it will remain. But as the Internet is permanent, and people will see this post later and not otherwise know that my knowledge has changed, here is an addendum, for what it’s worth: J did not have sex with MP.

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March 21, 1994, 9:20pm (15 years old)

“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.”

I am not a man.

Therefore, I still cling to a few of the precepts I clung to in my youth. For example,

“When you wish upon a star,

“Makes no difference who you are;

“Anything your heart desires

“Will come to you.”

I have been thinking about wishing on stars lately. I used to wish on a star when I was a kid. I would wish that me and my brothers could turn into cartoon characters and live in a parallel universe whenever we wanted to. Guess what? It never happened.

I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. Like guys. Especially MP.

It’s weird, but we never seem to like each other at the same time. He liked me in Middle School, I like him when I was a freshman, he liked me at the beginning of this year but then started liking J. I kind of like him now. The trouble is, he still likes J. Says he loves her.

He called me yesterday to talk, and we were on the phone for over an hour. I don’t know how long really. But we talked a lot. I’ve never had a guy call me before, and so it was kind of interesting. I take that back…M called me a couple of times when we were going out (back when I was young and silly), but we never had anything to talk about.

Anyway, P and I had a lot to say, and so we talked forever. I talked about DF, and how I’m getting over him, and he talked about the pain he’s experiencing now with J.

You see, J broke up with him. She said they were becoming “co-dependent”. Isn’t that what a relationship is? But anyway, J seems to be scared off by anything that she enjoys. I don’t understand that about her. Why can’t she just pray about it and find her answers?

She wasn’t at school today, or last Friday, so I called her house and asked her mom to have her call me back. I don’t know if she will or not, but I hope she will, because we need to talk. P was supposed to call me tonight, but I guess he never found the time.

I like this font, so I’ll stick with it.

Anyway, I’ll go into how I got over DF.

I’m still physically attracted to him, but I find no interest in him personally. That’s no problem, I’m physically attracted to several guys and it doesn’t mess me up. I still admire DF for his dedication to his workouts and stuff, and for how he’s in track and everything, but I really don’t like him much anymore. He makes crude jokes and acts like a jerk sometimes.

P informed me that he makes crude jokes a lot and I still talk to him. I guess my answer for that is that he likes me, and likes to talk to me, and that’s why I still talk to him. Besides, he’s getting better. But that still doesn’t explain DS. Who knows why I stopped liking him. But I did. Maybe it was the way he leapt into it. He shouldn’t have gone so fast. He also embarrassed me. That must be what it was. He should have taken it slow, and then I might have started liking him. But you see, he liked J this year and now he likes someone named Jennifer L (I think).

My mom’s a sweetie. She just brought me down a Diet Dr Pepper. I love them. The boys are watching “Strange Brew”. How annoying. I like the movie, but I don’t know how they can stand to watch it so often.

I wore a black dress today, and Stephen W comes up and says “Whose funeral is it?” I replied, “Yours.”

Anyway, I don’t like DF anymore. I’m not obsessed with impressing him, or showing him what an awesome person I am, or anything, so I think I’m over him. Wouldn’t it be funny if he started liking me now. Doubtful, but it would be ironic.

Mom’s breathing down my neck now. She wants me to get off the computer so SHE can use it. I just read those sentences to her and she made her little cute face, then decided to read a WinFax book. She’s trying to figure out how to talk over the terminal with Aunt Carol, who just got an IBM. They’ve been faxing each other stuff like crazy. Dad’s fax machine is awesome, by the way. I wonder if Noelle has a fax. We could send each other stuff for like 14 cents. That would be cool!

I feel kind of empty, not having a crush on anybody, and yet I feel free. I’m single, and glad to be! I think I’d like to get to know Noah K, because he seems like a nice guy, but he’s shy. But I still have these silly feelings about P. That’s not good, because if I somehow got him interested in me again, it would hurt J. Plus, I might get hurt in the process. So I’m going to stay away from that territory. It’s very strange that P liked me, because I never thought anyone would like me. But he did. I wonder if he ever will again.

My goal for my weight remains the same: to be able to wear biker shorts and a sports bra and look good. That would be so awesome. I would never wear them in public, but when I was working out I could and then I’d feel great. But it seems like I’ll never reach my goal. Today Mom came home with a lot of chips and some French onion dip (my favorite). I didn’t totally mess up, but I did enough damage to where I won’t be losing any more weight. Yuk.

Anyway. Enough about that. I think Mom’s going to be reading everything I write from now on. She’s silly.

Oh guess what! We are trying to fax Aunt Carol a little certificate that says: “Gift Certificate from the office of Dr. Jack Kevorkian, M.D. Good for one visit only.” Isn’t that hilarious? I love it! I want to copy it and give it to people. I should give one to DF, but he might get the wrong idea. I’ll give one to P. He’ll appreciate it.

Well, I think I’ll stop now, because I really don’t have much more to say. Until whenever I write again…

-HA

The trouble with autobiography

I’m on lunch, and I wanted to make a quick note.

Encapsulating a life is a difficult task, especially when it’s your own, simply because you know when you’re leaving something out. My huge autobiographical profile seems comprehensive and complete, but every time I think about it I think of something else I could have added. I wrote it all in one sitting, and so of course whatever I’d been thinking about at that time affected what I put down. There are other things I didn’t mention at all, or could have emphasized more, but didn’t.

I suppose that in some ways I consider this entire journal to be my autobiography. This is the record of my thoughts and adventures and stories from my past, written in my own words. To that end, I have decided to open a separate page on pixelscribbles for diary entries from the past. I’ll be posting, word for word, things I wrote as a child. I’ll post here, too, to inform readers that a new diary entry is up and to maybe discuss it a little. I think this will be a fun, unique experience.

I’ll let you know when I get started…

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Apparently I’m way too long-winded for Blogger’s new "About Me" profile section

I wrote a nice big autobiographical piece for my Blogger profile, but when I try to include it in the update, I get an error. Until the issue is resolved, I’m going to go ahead and post it here. Enjoy!

I love talking about myself, and tonight I seem to be in the mood to ramble, so I hope you have some time.

My name is Heather Aubrey Meadows. I have two younger brothers, AJ and Ben, and a mom and dad. My brother AJ is married to a wonderful woman named Faye, and they have two sons, Connor and Logan. Ben is engaged to a great girl named Manda.

I was born and raised in Nicholasville, Kentucky, and until I was 7 I lived on a street called Lois Lane towards the outskirts of town. As a fan of Superman, this street name delighted me. While I lived there I went to private school at Lexington Christian School, which later became Lexington Christian Academy. I grew up using an Apple II e computer, playing games and typing and eventually writing my own BASIC programs.

Sometime around second grade, my parents moved us to a house in Nicholasville proper, and in third grade I started going to public school. I had always been a shy person, but the realization that these new people were unfriendly and superficial (at least, that was my impression) made me more reclusive than ever. By the time middle school came around–I attended East Jessamine County Middle–I was something of a freak, wearing sweat pants, T-shirts, men’s belts with huge buckles, and a brown trench coat. My hair was always back in a messy ponytail and I wore huge, red-rimmed glasses. Annoyed at how no one seemed to understand me or even want to, I began literally talking to walls, which really did my social life no good whatsoever.

Meanwhile, my dad invented a tool for electricians, which he began selling out of our house. We had to learn how to run a mail-order business essentially from scratch. Back in the beginning, before we had the parts extruded, I would cut them from a long bar of aluminum using Dad’s band saw. I’d then drill holes in them with the drill press and sand down the edges. We took orders through the mail and over the phone, and we stored customer information on 3X5 index cards until we finally, around 1993 or so, got a modern computer. I discovered “chatting” at the age of 15 on BBSes, and I engaged in all kinds of interesting and intelligent conversations there.

Come high school, I joined a kung fu class and started to try to make myself normal. If in middle school I thought I was superior to all others, in high school I strongly believed the opposite. I felt that I had stunted my own emotional development and that now I was a worm beneath everyone else’s feet. It was during this time that I developed my first real crush, a crush that lasted for years, on a guy one grade above me. He was in my kung fu class and I was highly impressed by his determination and abilities–not to mention the fact that I thought he looked like Luke Skywalker. Nothing came of this crush, of course, and the angst made it difficult for me to properly pursue normal friendships.

My junior year of high school was probably the best. I sometimes wish that I’d graduated early, to end it on a high note. I was a member of several clubs, I was physically fit, I had good friends, and I went to Florida that year for spring break, which was amazing and fun. That summer I attended the Governor’s Scholars Program, which I look back on as one of the greatest experiences of my life. I met a guy who will probably be a lifelong friend, Matt Gunterman, and I learned a lot about the world outside of high school. This made me itch to go to college.
Senior year was very depressing by comparison: I’d lost the election for BETA president, I’d quit kung fu and gained quite a bit of weight, I suddenly realized that I really didn’t have any friends–lots of people had moved away, and my regular group was all closer to each other than they were to me–and I was also very slow in applying to college, with at least one teacher telling me that I had made the wrong career decision. (He was right, but I’ll get to that later.) Plus, GSP had shown me how cool college life was going to be (or so I assumed), and I was bored with the high school dynamic.

Needless to say, I was very happy to get out of high school. In the fall of 1996, I packed up and moved to Huntsville, Alabama to learn to be a mechanical engineer. The idea of pursuing this profession had come to me after a friend’s little sister informed me that astronauts had to have 20/20 vision. Indeed, I had been toying with the idea of becoming an astronaut. The new knowledge devastated me, but I decided–in typical martyr fashion–that if I couldn’t be an astronaut, I’d be the next best thing and design the ships astronauts flew in. This decision had absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I would actually like mechanical engineering.

It turned out that while the general principles were interesting, I was very bored by the specific details. I slacked off in class, missed tests, and failed/withdrew from some courses while getting Ds and Cs in others. I did manage an A in physics lab, but I already knew at that point that I’d chosen the wrong path.

It was during this first year of college that I did something pretty horrible, even though at the time I thought I was somehow justified. During the first hall meeting, my roommate and I met a guy who lived across the hall (yes, co-ed floors; can you believe it? We lived in four person suites with two bathrooms apiece, too. UAH had it good). This guy ended up dating my roommate, but over time it came out that he’d originally wanted to date me instead. As time passed and he began seeking me out more and more as a means to “escape” my roommate’s temper and perceived selfishness, I found myself wanting to date him as well. By the end of the first semester, it was decided that he’d break up with her and go out with me after my roommate had a chance to move out.

(This rather clinical description is as far as I’m going to go in this profile, but bear in mind that it was far more messy than that.)

The next semester saw me enjoying myself, wasting all of his money and treating him like crap–because he let me. I’d tell him to do something and he’d do it. He wouldn’t change his opinions for me–he was a staunch atheist and Democrat–but pretty much anything else went. The most telling aspect of our relationship is the fact that while I was satisfied sexually, he was not, and I didn’t want to satisfy him.

I broke up with him twice during that semester. I felt like I was leading him on, that since I knew I didn’t really love him I should set him free. But he always wanted me back, always slipped into such great depression that I felt that maybe I should be with him, should try to help him, should try to love him. It didn’t work. I’ve come to realize that you can’t be in love with someone you pity. (Sympathy is another matter entirely, though.)

Over the summer I tried to break up with him again, only to say I’d take him back…but by that time he’d had enough, and he broke it off with me. I have to say that that moment was the most bittersweet of our entire relationship. He was standing up for himself and doing what I wasn’t strong enough to do, which automatically made him infinitely more attractive, but at the same time I felt an inordinate sense of freedom. I felt that I could live again, that my mistake was finally over.

My behavior was inexcusable, and I am ashamed of how I treated both my boyfriend and my roommate. My roommate has since graciously forgiven me, and we saw each other once when she came into Lexington for a family wedding. I have no idea what happened to my ex; he seems to have dropped off the face of the Internet.

I considered my first year of college to be a dismal failure at the time, although now I look back on it as a learning experience. In any event, I dropped out of UAH and made no immediate plans to return to school. I had no purpose, no direction, and then no boyfriend…so I started fresh, got my first real job–at Willis Music in Lexington Green mall–and bought my first car.

I’d only been working for a few months when I was diagnosed with biphenaltypic leukemia and admitted into the University of Kentucky’s Markey Cancer Center. From September of 1997 until April of 1998 I lived on the third floor of Markey, only occasionally being allowed to go home for visits. I underwent three rounds of chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant, and I of course lost all my hair. I also had a catheter implanted in my chest, which left a round scar the size of a dime between my breasts, and due to abdominal pain during treatments I also had an exploratory procedure that left a six inch scar across my stomach. As I was immuno-suppressed, this wound didn’t heal for months.

While I was in the hospital, I got online quite a bit–my mom brought my computer in and I used my hospital room’s telephone to log on during the evening. Typically I stayed awake all night, met with the docs in the morning, and then went to sleep. During this time, I learned how to make webpages in Microsoft Word. (Yes, I know; you can stop writhing in agony at any time.) I also chatted quite a bit on IRC and ICQ.

Despite being able to get online and play around, I was still very much tired of being cooped up and having my life on hold. Once I was free to go, I immediately registered for classes at UK, signing up for whatever sounded remotely interesting. I ran into my old high school crush at orientation that summer, and was highly embarrassed to have him see me bald. It’s strange how strong feelings like that can come back years later…but obviously, nothing came of seeing him again.

1998 was a highly eventful year, apparently, because that was also when I started growing closer and closer to a guy I met through a Robotech chatroom. I’ll spoil any possible suspense and let you know right now that I am currently married to that guy.

We first met in person in the summer of 1999, when I drove down to visit him in Augusta, Georgia for two weeks. In many ways that trip felt foreign and strange, and in many other ways it felt like coming home. We knew each other so well online, but being in person really added to the breadth of knowledge. Facets that I hadn’t had to consider before were now large factors. It was an intriguing shift from an “online relationship” into a “long distance relationship”.

We managed to stay together, long distance, while I finished college. I considered transferring to a college closer to him, but ultimately I decided that I didn’t really want to take all the core classes over, so I’d best stick it out. Plus, after 13 months of working full time I quit my job to pay more attention to my studies, so I couldn’t have really afforded to move out of my parents’ house anyway. I stayed in Kentucky until I finally graduated in fall of 2002. (During this time I traded my old car, a 1993 Ford Taurus, for a 1998 Ford Escort. I loved that car, and drove it until I unfortunately totaled it in an accident on my way home from a trip to see Sean. After that I had no car payments, due to the fact that I inherited my grandfather’s 1986 Subaru GL hatchback, so I was able to quit my job at GRW Aerial Surveys, which was data entry that had already gotten boring, and did so without much remorse.)

After taking several different courses in things that sounded interesting, I ended up majoring in Linguistics and minoring in Japan Studies, and towards the end of my college career I tacked on a major in English because I had more than enough credits. I really stumbled into Linguistics and Japan Studies randomly; I’d taken courses because they sounded like fun and I ended up loving it all. I wasn’t sure what I would do with my degrees, but I felt that doing linguistics or something involving Japan–or, preferably, both–would make me happy.

On January 2, 2003, my whole family drove down to Augusta to help me move into a beautiful apartment and to celebrate my wedding. On January 4, 2003, Sean and I were married in a small ceremony at Augusta Golf and Gardens, where multiple pictures were taken, and then we enjoyed a reception at the apartment clubhouse before my family left to return to Kentucky and Sean and I finally began our new lives as husband and wife.

The first year was a big transition for me; living away from my family was very difficult, more difficult than I remembered it being from Huntsville. This was largely due to the fact that I didn’t have a job or anything else to really do during the day once the apartment was settled. I made frequent trips to Kentucky and felt very cut off and alone.

Towards the end of 2003, I received a data entry job offer from a good friend of ours, a former boss of Sean’s. I took it. From these extraordinarily humble beginnings, I worked my way up to the business manager position at the company, 2go-Box, a local restaurant marketing firm (and now, a delivery service). My background working with my parents’ business, plus my natural sense for organization and customer service, have really helped me to blossom in the new position. I work closely with the president and salesperson, Robert, and am planning on starting my own business one day.

Due to the cancer treatments, it seems that I am unable to have children. This has been a blight on an otherwise very happy existence. I still fall into depression about it. On the plus side, being over five years in remission means that it’s extraordinarily unlikely that my cancer will return.

In 2004 I became closer friends with some great people who live in and around North Augusta. If I had to make an analogy, I’d say that North Augusta is a lot like Nicholasville, while Augusta would be Lexington, and the area where Sean and I currently live (to the west of Augusta) is something like the Richmond Road/Man O War side of Lexington. Essentially, Sean and I are on a growing, developing, prospering side of town with lots of popular stores (the Augusta Exchange is just down the road) and restaurants. North Augusta is growing, too, but the sheer distance from our side of town, plus the fact that it’s in South Carolina, makes it feel a little different. It’s not on the cutting edge of growth, though I imagine it will get there someday; instead, it just feels like a really nice place. I’ve been thinking very seriously that it would be nice to buy a house there and really settle down. This is a far cry from my depression of 2003, during which I wanted to run home to Kentucky at the soonest possibility. I’m finally fitting in, making friends, forming routines, and doing a job I love. I finally feel like I’m home.

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Blueberry bagels with strawberry cream cheese

Mom and I used to go to the hospital a lot, for my checkups. On the way home, we’d always stop at the little bagel place that used to be on Nicholasville Road just before Man O’ War Boulevard. That was where I first discovered blueberry bagels with strawberry cream cheese. I almost invariably got one every time we went.

After a time, the bagel place closed and was eventually replaced by Popeye’s chicken. This happened towards the end of my hospital visits, though, and soon enough Mom and I weren’t taking routine trips up to Lexington together. I started going to UK, making the daily jaunt up Nicholasville Road alone. Soon I discovered the Intermezzo up on the mezzanine of Patterson Office Tower, central campus. That casual cafe became one of my regular haunts…and I’d always get a blueberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese to munch while doing my homework or reading.

For my first year here in Georgia, I really didn’t eat bagels. I hardly ever went anywhere, and I didn’t have an income to speak of, so they weren’t high on my priority list. But now that I’ve got my own job–a place to go during the week, plus money–I’ve been adding bagels to my shopping lists.

So now I sit here at my desk on my lunch break, preparing to dig into a nice blueberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese. :)

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