That's All

My bare feet on hot blacktop .... since August .... no, you're no friend.
Cool shoes, cool you .... too cool to be you. That's all.
No big deal, no big real. Now and then.
You, pretend. That's all.

And you ... false donations and difficult hugs.
Those flowers .... the mud .... the winters to spring,
But that's all.
Bedtime .... no stories,
Playtime, no fun. Dinners .... like dungeon buffets.
Your way or the highway .... so here's my thumb.
That's all.

And you .... it's your mind, I know.
Your heart is pure, .... treasures, palace gifts galore .... but that's all.
And it's not your fault. I'd give every last dime,
To hit rewind .... and ride all over again.
An amazing ride ... now bumpy at best.
Can I get off please?
No, not just bumpy but vomitous for sure.
But you give and you gave and you give some more.
And that's not all .... that's not all.

13

I am going back to that place.
That place where you took me,
So many years ago
You were evil but you cared
At least you cared ....

And now I'm going back
Though you won't be there
And it won't hurt
I think it will hurt that it won't
Because your evil pain
Felt wonderful .... wonderful stilling the numb
And all it's been since you stopped
Is numb

I am going back there to you
I am 13.

Only from here
Can I see you
But, still, you should know
Everything is perfect
About you
Just as it is
Were it not for me
And all the others
You would be free

Earth.

Missed

A snafu .... understated,
Botched and tangled
You received
An executed sigh

I pulled carefully,
Sniper precision
Planned and placed
And, delivered as such

'Tis the law, you know
That no true aim
Falls in fact
Where it's meant to go

For such malice
And pretense
And pointed mark
Would be no celebration
Should no arrow arc.

It's not in years,
The counting.

For each year
I grow old,
The past it stays as rooted
And your warnings
Reign in bold.

Where at first,
Faint and soft,
Shortly after the making
It's like the years
Are an oven
And the stewards
Are baking

Seared and searching
For the "off"
To soothe
And cool down
Seeking the soft
But it won't come around

Dulled not a bit
Only vivid rewind
Time going backward
Merciless mind.

Chasing Dust

In my room
I made my stand
Chasing dust
With child's hand
The more I pawed
The more I lost
I knew but naught
Of price or cost
'Twas only dust
And I but four
Grasping at
What flew before

At 33
It's all still dust
Priceless years
And wanderlust
The more I reach
The more it scatters
The more I see
All that matters
Not the dust
Whether lost,
Or caught
But child's will
Spoiled naught

Ode to a Corn Borer

Uncovered and male
And stuck to the pale
Was how I first met thee

Husk unshorn
Life barely worn
A greenish hue was he

Spirited and quiet
Simply a riot
On cold counter he came to me

Once my eyes focused
Beyond all the hocus
Simply staring was he

Ceased massive cooking
To join in the looking
Coming from one so wee

But then I realized
There was some despise
For warmth I took from thee!

High brow toiled
As his shanty boiled
Still, simply staring at me!

Who could have thought
That a being so naught
Could gaze so mightily?

Steal forth in haste
No time to waste
Another home for thee!

But the only shant
Was a pomegranate
But make a new home did he!

Even if They Don't Listen

It's not the minds
Who hear you
Nor the eyes that see
But the strength and wisdom
You bellow forth
Brave and mightily

Though deaf ears receive you
And sight lost within
'Tis the speaking that matters
The unkeeping-in
So stand there spewing
Or silent such
And produce something similar
With a far different touch

What Becomes

With heavy lids and heavy heart
I close my eyes to sleep
And in the morning, eyes alight
But heavy heart haunts thee
Another day becomes a ghost
Another week ... then months
Sleep soothes the sleepiness
Yet, what relieves these ghosts?

Fall loves the cold, turns the leaves
Kisses them with color
And, I the leaf left behind
Clinging, mangy brown
The only leaf left behind
While others find the ground

And, what becomes of one lost leaf
One who can't get down,
Painted quite unlike the others
Torn and slighted
Odd-shaped and spited
Did you know a leaf can frown?

And what becomes,
And what becomes ....
When others come and go,
And go the cycle as they should
Sleep underneath the snow
But what becomes of one who's lost
Numb in winter's breeze
What becomes when all have gone
Save one bitter, lonely leaf?

Before This Life

I did something, I know ...
Ungrateful, at least
I did something before
To offend such a beast

Long before today,
Decades before tomorrow,
I did something, I know ...
To bring on this sorrow.

Terrible it was,
Horrid, I'm sure.
Afflicted, this heart,
And, certainly no cure.

Still, I can't see
What I left behind
I can't see the last century
And, my unfaithful mind

Because something I know
When I know nothing at all
There is no rational reason
For desire to call

But who gave it reason
Who says there's a why?
When lips work to smile
While heart yearns to cry?

A leper of love
Hated and black
Masking with wonder
A hiddeous crack.

Wider than Heaven,
Hollow ... and pretend
I was there before
And, I'll be there again.

A Friday Night

Toe, unstill
A tapping delight
Impatient ... moreso,
On a Friday night.

Wonder, deluxe,
A few hours to wait.
Tapping and anxious,
September and great.

But, if I could
Sooner ... I might,
Wander away,
And ponder tonight.

As stars awake,
And day turns to black,
I'll slip into naughty,
And never come back.

Heather ... Here to Save Your Sticky Buns!

"How did we get here?" I was in a meeting the other day when a confused attendee asked that very question in reference to the topic. That same question entered my mind tonight as I sat down to dinner while talking on the phone with my mom. One minute we're talking about my brother and law school, and suddenly, from left field, I mean no warning, no nothing (of course I may have tuned her out for a moment or two) I hear, "You were there when your brother was circumcised ...." And, then it was a queazy fading jumble of words, "bloody ... piece .... foreskin ..." was all I heard after that - I kid you NOT - food on my tongue at THAT very moment and mom decides to talk about .... okay, I'll spare the rest of you the graphic, bloody details ...

Speaking of food, I think there should be legislation on grocery checkers making random comments about your items as they ring them up. And, of course, there are never fewer than 15 people behind you when that happens, well, at least there were today when Ms. Snooootybigmouth commented loudly on my XXXXXX - to my very shock and horror! Oh man, she came real close to getting her nose grabbed and squished.

So, back up .... way before I got to Ms. Snooootybigmouth, before I loaded my cart, I was strolling across the crowded parking lot when an older lady's grocery bag ripped, sending all of her food rolling in different directions ... except, of course the sticky bun box, which landed upside-down in two pieces at my feet .... damn they were good! Okay, just joking, but I did have to corral those sticky little suckers back into the gooey box and hand them back to her .... yes, ALL of them.

"Oh come on, you know you had two stuffed into each cheek when you walked away!" said my mom, hysterically. No, eating that poor lady's sticky buns did not cross my mind .... however, what DID cross my mind was a little mellow-drama ... jump to me ripping off my shirt (no, not like that, you perv!) like Superman, except to reveal a sticky bun shirt and me proudly exclaiming, "Never fear! I am here to save your sticky buns!" Followed by another hilarious mental snippet that almost left me rolling in the donut aisle - "Heather Singer, super sticky bun picker-upper at your service!" Try saying that 10 times fast! I only got to two in the car on the way home. After two, it turns into something like "Heather Stinker sticky picker ..... "

So, on a serious note ... in celebration of being one week free of that Dark and Gloomy Cloud - yes, you heard me, it stayed gone - I am going to indulge my super sticky bun picker-upper self in three of my guilty pleasures ... I can't tell you what those are, but I CAN tell you that Scrubs better not be a tear-jerker like it was last night ... or so help me, someone will be getting their nose grabbed and squished ... yeah, that's right, I'm talking to you, Zach Braff, Mr. Talking Floating Head Man of My Dreams ......

For you, dad

For more than a year, I've been hanging on to dark and terrible feelings inside myself - for 15 months to be exact. It seemed like it was only getting worse and the worse it got, the worse I felt about myself ... and the more difficult it became! But, today, something amazing happened. The dark cloud floated away. I hadn't even realized how gray and cloudy things had become until I hiked tonight, and for the first time in 15 months, I saw the mountains, the sagebrush, the sunset and cloudless sky for how beautiful it all truly is, with no nagging bitterness about the world and all the evils and horrors going on at this very moment as I usually remind myself of many, many times a day.

A total stranger recognized this and because he saw how dark it was, I finally was able to see it myself, and to acknowledge it and then let it go. I've never let go like that before ... like a bunch of balloons ... always that feeling of never being able to get something back - even the black cloud of doom- has always kept me hanging on. But today I let go. And, I felt alive.

It felt freeing to allow myself to be myself, to finally stop censoring how much of the inside gets out and revealed to others. This stranger, Steve, put it all out there - nothing censored. This gave me hope. I think I have been working to do that for a long time. With most people the inside and outside are different because we filter what we want others to see, but if we truly want to be seen for who we are, we should take away the filters. And, if we want others to love the good and bad things about us, then we must learn to do the same of ourselves .... even the very dark places within ourselves. We all have them, yet few ever want to admit this, and keeping darkness hidden lets it fester and makes it even moreso.

Is the cloud gone? Is everything bird songs and blooming roses in Heather's world? No. But, life is not that way and that is okay, too, as long as I can become wise and strong enough to know and accept this. I have always been a "why" person ... "why is the sky blue? why is that person angry? why do skunks smell like skunks?" and my why's have long outnumbered all of the answers in the universe, leading only to my own confusion, misunderstanding and inability to grasp certain concepts. In reality, it is okay to wonder why but I must also realize that not every why has an answer, even the ones we most want answered.

Now that the dark has left, I realize the light looks so beautiful only because the darkness makes it so - without that contrast, we would never notice. Even when there is no obvious good to be found in bad things, the good might come of learning to accept the bad, letting go of it or living through it. Tonight, I promised myself to work harder to feel love and kindness toward things in this world I often feel inclined to despise, to look for light even in darkness - not necessarily at the end of the tunnel, but the small flickers within the tunnel as well - to meet my enemies with empathy, treat those I dislike with compassion, and give more love and goodwill than I want for myself, and to wish magic and beauty for those who are not seeing or feeling it just yet.

Of course, I will still mentally curse moron idiots who drive on the freeway with their dogs running freely in the beds of their pick-up trucks, but perhaps I could learn to do so with less hatred and more hope and loving kindness. There will always be blisters, and sometimes bliss will be scarce, but many times the bliss is rewarded on the way to the blister, quickly forgotten during the blister, and never regained thereafter. Please let me let go of the sadness even when I have not fully made sense of it. And, please let me accept things as they are even if I don't have all the answers I want.

It has been a long, long time since the summers I spent planting petunia's with my dad - just soil, water, and watch them grow ... so simple ... and so easily overlooked. Today's cloud took away more than just sadness, it made room to see other things, to finally see the petunia's again for all their beauty and splendor, and accept them lovingly just as they have been in my memory, kept safe and quiet all this time, faded and distant, yet still bright and dashing, even knowing they would surely die each coming fall.

Maybe that's why flowers are so splendid ... to remind us how dull and meaningless our lives would be without them. Today, when the cloud left, my dad was there. And, I saw the flowers again. I had forgotten how firmly we had planted them ... just me and dad, on our hands and knees with garden shovels, soil and water. We didn't even dig that deeply, but those petunia's really blossomed. I guess once you put roots into soil and water well with love, sometimes, they give back something really beautiful ... even after many, many winters have passed ... even if they only bloomed once ... but with a radiance to outlast seasons, possibly even decades.

Sister

No longer grief
Empty, surpassed
Just missing you, still
Since I saw you last

Eight years, your eyes
Soulful and glad
A chance encounter
The last we had

Had I known then
What I see today
The early coming
Of your going away

I struggle to remember
But, then, had I known
I'd have chiseled each moment
To savor in stone

I'd have told you then
What the silence hid
What I saw
When, as a kid

A gift bestowed
A sacred token
A sister given
To fix the broken

And each passing year,
I remember more
From those 18 years
Your were mine to adore

Twelve years the elder
And, I, wide-eyed with awe
I wanted no more
Than to see what you saw

The fragile you showed
Yet, shrouded in wise
The patience and love
And warmth in your eyes

When memory rekindles
A faded moment shared
A new gift again
The broken repaired

It replays like a movie
Rewind, again and again
Till the clearer I see
My sister, my friend

More than I knew
What wouldn't last
How much was broken
After you passed

Like before I knew you
Before I met,
The sister I'd grow
To never forget

The sister who shared
What she had before
The broken she lived
And we helped to restore

The sister who knew
That love was home-grown
Organic and pure
And carved into stone

The Boy and the Bun

The toddler was crying
Hot under the sun
Holding up high
An empty hotdog bun

Puzzled parents!
Even street vendor was sure
A hotdog was there
Just moments before

Too tiny to know
How to put into words
His lunch flew away
With a giant bird!

Who'd believe this tale
Who else knew?
Besides the seagull and I
That it really WAS true?!

That moments before
When no one else was looking
A laughing gull swooped in
To grab what was cooking

Up high and away
He flew toward the sun
To leave behind hungry boy
With just ketchup and bun!

A slithering serpeant, visited I
Among the sage and scorching dry
It was cool where he rested, benign for a bit
He beckoned, "My dear, won't you come and sit?"
"But you'll bite," said I, "And, I'm quite afraid,
To lounge so near you in the shade."
"Hiss I may, and bite I might,
There is no certainty, 'side from your fright."
I pondered this and thought it strange,
No shame for venom, nor pretense for change.
A leopard with spots, and proud yet still
Though chance lurked near for breath to spill
But, poison or naught, so open was he,
I could not help but lounge trustingly.
He shared his shade, and I, my mind,
Knowing that nature, itself, could unwind.
But fright was gone though threat still there,
Oddly, I came not to care,
For comfort and company enjoyable so,
Should venom strike ... there were worse ways to go.

Why I Love Working Weekends at the Vet Clinic

1. After a while, all dog poop smells the same.

2. No shortage of great puns - i.e., I commented today how "unsightly" an injury was to this cute little pug's eye.

3. Growls mean, "Did you shower today?" And, licks mean, "Where's my treat?!"

4. If I didn't shower, I can usually blame the dogs for any noxious smells.

5. Sweet little old ladies and their cats.

6. Tough chihauhua's protecting their sissy pitbull siblings.

7. Two St. Bernards who weigh more than I do!

8. Scaring the new people about the "ghosts" in the old, creepy basement.

9. Getting a tiny little hint 'o grin out of Dr. Sara.

10. A three-legged cat named Eileen.

11. Watching the owners have to watch something really gross like their pet's eye infection getting poked at - especially someone really prissy ... "Oh, eeewwwwww, eeeewwwwww!!!!! Is that what the inner eyelid looks like?!"

12. Treats in my pockets for good doggies .... which means all doggies.

13. How Dr. Grinsell notices the small stuff I do, like weeding the front garden ... and how appreciative he is.

14. Doggies who come in hurt and then get put back together again ... good as new!!!

15. Kitties who purr even when they are getting a shot!

16. Seeing Dr. Sara get all goo-gooey over puppies.

17. Seeing an owner's expression when Dr. Grinsell tells him/her their new little boy kitten, Bob, is really a female.

18. Huge dogs who try to hide when the vet walks in. Rule of thumb ... the bigger the dog, the more terrified he/she is.

Mirror

Admiration ... just sometimes
Then despair.
An anomaly, you know,
Apparition incognito.
There, then gone,
Working ...
To see you, just once
Really see you ...
But, a simple glance,
A lone reflection ...
Is all.

Original Limerics (just for fun y'all!)

Paris of the Garden
Polished runway rose
To the dirt she'll turn up her nose
The aphids compete
To dine at her feet
Till into the vase she goes!

Kosher Flowers
Mr. Birdie Schwartz the Third
Singing without words
Inspecting each flora
As one might the Torah
Oye! Only a hummingbird!

Welcome to Sprawlville

Below is a lengthy comment I submitted yesterday online at www.rgj.com in response to a growth article in the newspaper. I feel like a parrot repeating the same things over and over, which is why I've been laying low lately on grow issues (plus major burnout), but a comment posted before mine spurred me to write. I hope my comment might help others to understand some of this complex issue, which I tried to break down and explain clearly, though it may still be confusing.

Below my comment is the link to the article, the actual article and to my myspace website. Please visit the www.rgj.com under Local News to read all of the comments (story entitled Who Foots the Bill on our New Roads?) and to post your own comments on this issue to encourage developers and officials to slow the growth rate for smarter planning in the Reno and Northern Nevada region. - Heather

My comment:

Heather
Joined: 12 Oct 2006
Posts: 20
Location: Lemmon Valley, Nevada
Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2007 8:39 pm
Post subject: If developers want to create sprawl, they should pay

It's exhausting to raise the same issues over and over only to have them by-passed by developers and officials who do what they want anyway. In response to Oatworm's comments - thank you for caring enough to be involved in these issues. However, if the increased growth was sustained by those who occupied newly built outlying homes, then why is the entire area still suffering from the fallout of poorly planned rapid growth? Why were officials wanting to raise taxes at the last election? Why are roads being widened years after they need to be? Why has sheriff deputy response time for 911 calls been more than 20 minutes and more than six hours for non-emergency calls? The new residents in their new homes are not covering these critical services. The builders surely aren't - though they can afford to. These problems are a direct result of sprawl. What is sprawl?

Sprawl is: Low density development on the edge of cities and towns, poorly planned, land consumptive, auto-dependent, and designed without respect to its surroundings. Look around you.

Instead of rolling hills, you now having rolling rooftops and houses on hilltops as far as the eye can see - very soon it will be from horizon to horizon, broken by a few parks and ballfields .... pretty similar to Las Vegas. It is truly sad that the poorly planned growth pattern that happened in Las Vegas didn't stay in Las Vegas like everything else does!

Instead, local builders and some officials view the Las Vegas growth pattern as ideal, even though Las Vegas now faces more crime, corruption, budget shortfalls and countless other disasters than can be fixed in several decades. Furthermore, regarding affordable housing: if developers had incentives or mandates to build affordable houses before they were granted permits to build the more pricey ones, well, there would be affordable housing. And, there would still be wealthy developers with plenty more projects planned.

Well planned growth would not cause jobs to be lost. It would only narrow the profit-margin of builders who already make ten times the amount of money as their employees who actually do the physical labor. Smart growth advocates want to see infill development - meaning that areas closer to the city core become more dense in order to utilize existing infrastructure, in which cases, growth can wind up paying for itself because older infrastructure gets upgraded, which benefits new and old residents alike. And, keeps construction workers employed.

Sprawl, however, means infrastructure must be created from scratch solely to service the new homes from which the developers profit. When developer impact fees and property taxes don't cover all the new infrastructure cost, guess who pays? We all pay - either in cash or with a decreased quality of life! The tragic part is that while wealthier individuals may not feel the pinch as much, middle class and working poor residents are left in harship circumstances, where both parents are forced to work one or more jobs and are still barely able to pay their monthly bills.

In stark contrast, the majority of home builders/developers live in lavish houses, own one or more houses, numerous vehicles, and spend many months of each year relaxing on cruise ships or cavorting around Europe. Yes, they work hard and they DO deserve to spend their money as they wish, however, when it is money earned at the cost of other peoples' qualities of lives, that is wrong. Working poor and middle class residents will be forced to dig into their already tight budgets to cover sprawl fallout while those who are doing the building are reaping in more profit than they can spend on themselves and their families in a whole lifetime.

If developers want to create sprawl, they should be required to pay for the infrastructure that will be needed. Yet, why should the burden of new schools, roads, law enforcement, etc., fall SOLELY on developers when those new schools will be used by new residents well into the future? ONE, because builders can afford to and will STILL reap huge profits. TWO, because the taxes squeezed out of new residents will be absorbed in the maintance and upkeep of those newly created services.

There is also a lack of water, threatened and displaced wildlife, danger for children crossing or playing near rural roads as traffic increases, and many more ugly issues. It is not fun at all to beat up on or to bash developers as Oatworm says. It is frustrating, exhausting and tragic that good, hard-working citizens have to sacrifice family time, rest and recreation to battle people with a materialistic value system who have little conscience or choose to live in complete denial over the negative impact their chosen source of income is having and will have on the entire region for decades to come.

Builders are not mean, bad people. Many of them do care about the community and charitable causes. But, when they can afford to give more and take less, I can't understand why many of them still do what they do. I applaud them for giving money to needy causes but donating is easy when you have excess funds to give.

I truly admire and cherish those willing to sacrifice something to help other people, animals or the planet as a whole. Many people who have little, already give more than those who have plenty. Evelyn Mount, Joe Ferguson, Connie and Helen at WARF, Stephen Tchudi, Roland Beinert, Frank Schenk and the McGills are just a few examples of those who give beyond money - they give of themselves, time, sweat and energy to make up for what others don't or won't give. And, they don't do it to gain wealth or status. They give more than they can afford of themselves only because they care.
________________
Heather Singer, Citizens for Sensible Growth (CSG) "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." - Margaret Mead

Full RenoGazette article and comments: (look under Local News)
http://news.rgj.com

Myspace:
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=20790642

To Do List:

1. make up a new word; use it in conversations

2. pat my head and rub my tummy at the same time!

3. try to subtly pluck hair from mole on back of friend's neck

4. learn the Istanbul/Constantinople song

5. bribe the laundry room cricket to bring it down a notch

6. take a deep breath

7. witness plumber crack without laughing

8. scare the scary people

9. see how many blows a tissue can withstand

10. find out if frogs fart

11. make peace with kitchen jumping spider

12. prank call brother in weird, creepy voice

13. daydream about being a princess!

14. chew all fingernails equally - not fair to pick favorites

15. break in new pooper scooper

16. check under bed and in closets for monsters

17. count the stars

18. be happy

Lifejacket of Lead

Floating in a boat of fool, on an ocean of hypocracy. A storm, in the distance. Paddles of nowhere take me in water circles. It just doesn't seem right for salt water to catch fresh rain.

Just a Leaf

If life was like an apple
I'd be an apple pie
Overcooked, slightly tart
Scrumtious to a fly

If life was just a song
I'd be a giddy verse
And you could skip along
Singing at your worst

If life was but a leaf
I'd yellow in the fall
And be the only one
To stay when winter called

If life was just a bug
I'd be a mighty ant
Fearless king of the pebble
A stranger to "I can't"

If life were like the wind
I'd blow something fierce
But gently on your skin
To dry your invisible tears

May 2007

Did That REALLY Happen?!

(Note: celebrity names substituted for actual names to protect identities)

Here, Let me Show You How it's Done

My friend works for a veterinarian who warned her how dangerous the chemical was in the tiny jars used to store specimens - SO dangerous as a matter of fact that he asked her to get one of the jars for him, but said he would open it since the chemical could really burn your skin and must be handled VERY carefully. She walked out of the room and then back in after hearing a string of curses, and noticed the chemical contents of the jar splattered across the wall, the table, the floor and down the shirt of the angry vet.


Would You Like Ketchup With Those?

When my friend, Owen Wilson, was in high school, he often went without underwear. One day, his mom hosted a barbecue in the backyard, where Owen went out to visit and grab a burger. Unfortunately, when he sat on the steps to eat, his knees up and legs out to opposite sides, his, um, cajonas, flopped out of his short 8o's shorts to take a seat of their own on a step in plain view of all the guests. Owen was completely clueless as he spent nearly an hour conversing with people. After everyone left his mother approached, "Owen," she stated matter-of-factly. "Will you please wear underwear next time? Your balls flopped out of your shorts and were sitting on the steps the entire time where everyone could see them!" How would you like to have your mom deliver that news?


Kid for Sale!

When I was eight years old, I helped my dad hang signs around our neighborhood for our yardsale. One family, who stopped, commented how visible and good our signs were. Proudly, I said, "I hung them there so all the people coming from church could see them. Church people are always looking for yard sales cause they are cheap." "Heather!" my dad admonished, "That's not a nice thing to say!" I replied, "But dad, that's exactly what YOU said earlier when you told me to put the signs there!"


Award for Stolen Stray Cat

I used to volunteer at an animal shelter where people always dumped strays after the shelter had closed. One night, I was driving by and spotted a black and white cat sitting out front of the shelter. "Another stray," I thought to myself so I scooped him up and took him home. The next day, I visited the shelter during open hours. The manager and all the employees were distressed. "Someone stole our new shelter kitty!" one of the employees told me, and described the cat I had scooped up the night before. I couldn't quite bring myself to fess up especially since I was caught off guard and didn't cop to it right away. I was quite relieved a week later to see they had selected a new shelter kitty.


Gee Thanks!

Several years ago, I cleaned out my closet and forced myself to part with clothes I hadn't worn in years. I have no idea why this was so difficult, but it was! I took three bags of old clothes to the thrift store where my friend volunteered. He wasn't there when I dropped them off. A few days later, he came by. "Check this out!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Someone dropped off a whole bunch of really cute clothes so I snagged them for you. They are SO you!!!" How right he was. He proceeded to pull from the bag several shirts I had taken to the thrift store a few days earlier! I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had just gotten rid of them. To his delight, they were even the right size!


Feline FedEx

My mom has cats. Apparently, before she sealed a box of new sweaters to ship to me, her cats mistook this open box for the restroom. A week later, I pulled out the new sweaters and at the same time, unravelled several piles of dried cat crap. "Did you like sweaters, honey?" she asked. "Yeah, mom. Thanks! And, the cat poop too! But, you didn't have to ship it all the way across the country. I've got plenty here!"


Look What I Found!

I was so excited to try out my new metal detector that I went outside at 10 p.m. into a vacant lot near my friend's house. Heading out the door, I could barely contain myself so my friend was surprised to see me limping back inside less than five minutes later. "Did you find anything?" he asked. "Yeah, a big rusty nail," I said. "With the metal detector?" he asked. "No, with my foot," I said, showing him where the nail had gone halfway into my heel!

May You Always Face the Sun so Your Wig Never Molds in the Shadow

Notes to self:

1. Must stop talking to myself outside of my house with lips moving.
2. Must stop using the word "freakin'" as the all-purpose adjective/adverb. I am getting on my own nerves. This has gone too far.
3. Must live up to my own expectations, not others.
4. If I'm going to thumb my nose at the world and dye my hair gothic black with attitude, must not cry when people laugh. What a sissypants! I don't deserve badboy black hair!
5. Must get a really cool infection in my finger, and truly let it fester this time to see what happens. Ten fingers are SO over-rated. You can only pick your nose with one anyway.
6. Must stop trying to hard to fix the world ... fix myself ... then work on the world.

I've decided that when I need to tell a story that involves someone I know, I am going to rename this person the name of a celebrity of similar looks and personality so no one will get mad at me. Even my brother has gotten to the point of saying, "Heath, I'll tell you this but it is NOT to go into your novel." Sheesh ... as if I can't be trusted. I've snooped in dozens of diaries, emails, notebooks, underwear drawers, bathroom cabinets and anything else anywhere I can get my nosy little hands on ... but have I ever once revealed the awesome dark secrets I've uncovered? NO. Not once. I keep these juicy tidbits all to myself. That way, it doesn't hurt so bad when someone laughs at me because I know something you don't know I know ..... nah, nah, nah, nah, nah.

Yes, I know, sudden panic for all of you reading this who know me. "Eak, did she peek in MY closet?!" "Did she snoop in MY drawer." Yup, I'm sure I have .... and probably your wallet, under your bed, behind your couch, your notes-to-self ..... why? Curiosity. I love to see what goes on in other people's heads when no one is looking .... not to hurt anyone or betray them .... just to know more, I guess. I've always been that way ..... yes, by the age of 10, I could have offered Harriet the Spy a tip or two. Apparently, my mom does this as well. She's the only other person I know who will pick up a folded piece of paper on the ground just to see if it is a private note .... and yes, people ..... many of them are.

No mail in my mailbox today. I find this fishy. You know those really nice mailpeople who walk around smiling and waving as they joyously deliver letters? That's not my mailperson. I suspect that my mailperson is the type to get stung by a butterfly, to break a tooth on the only half of olive pit in the whole jar, to throw the penny over the wishing well, to be the one person in all eternity on the entire planet who ever actually bit into a razor blade in a piece of Halloween candy, to get drenched when the sun is out ..... okay, fine, so I left my sprinkler on that time .... sheesh.

What happened to rain, sleet, snow or hail, the mail will be there ... or something like that? For my mailperson, it's more like rain, sleet, snow, hail, breeze, sunny day, cloudy day, perfect day, any day, I'm sitting my ass right here and if I can't reach your mailbox with my curled up pinky finger, well, then you have a faulty mailbox. How do I know this? Why just last week, I received the dozenth Post Office Notice: Dear Resident at XXXX, Your mailbox is sitting too far from the curb. Please correct this problem or your mail will cease to be delivered. When the HELL did postal people start expecting mailboxes to come to them?!?

Ya want the kicker? I wasn't living here when my mailbox was steadfastly erected. I was negative two years old! But, just last year, the county built a nice new curb on our road and apparently, my mailbox moved itself six inches farther away from the road. So, I took this dozenth Dear Resident at XXXXX, Your mailbox is sitting too far from the curb letter and crossed out that nonsense. I wrote, Dear Mailperson, Your truck is crooked. Please fix your mailtruck as soon as possible so I may continue to receive my mail. Yes, I really did put it in the mailbox and raise the little red flag .... now you see my suspicion over receiving no mail today. Apparently, some people have NO sense of humor. I think I might move the mailbox to suit her fancy, but at the same time replace it with a tiny one in which each letter has to be folded and stuffed in forcefully. Hmmmmmm ..... I can see her note now. Dear Resident at XXXXXX, A zillion heartfelt apologies and hugs. Please put back your old mailbox. Your Friendly Neighborhood Postal Worker Eager to Bring Your Mail Come Rain or Shine

Backing up half a page to me renaming those I love and cherish as celebrities to disguise their true identity, hence, prolonging my life. I spent most of last week gushing to Daryl Hannah that Saturday night I was hired to help host an event where I would get to don an outrageous senorita costume - complete with a real-hair, black wig. That was the best part! Saturday came and went, and reluctantly I was forced to give back the $2,000 wig. Bummer. Ah-ha! I went home and dyed my own hair jet black, and guess what?! It came out just like the wig ..... okay, maybe a $20 Walmart wig, but close enough!

Yeah, finally, my badboy self had come to the surface. Hello dark, mysterious, intimidating, newly reinvented moi! Since I've known Daryl Hannah for 14 years and she is one of my closest friends, I warned her before popping out excitedly with my outrageously solid black hair. "Daryl!" said I, "I must warn you. I have dyed my hair. It is quite shocking!" Like a child yelling "boo!" I excitedly leaped around the corner to meet her shocked expression, expecting us to both wallow in my carefree, daring, adventurous euphoria.

But, she laughed quite heartily and, in between hunched-over hysteria, I finally heard her mumble, "So, that's the wig you were so excited to wear Saturday night!" "Um, no. This is really my hair. I liked the wig so much, I dyed my hair just like it!" A brief pause and mortified expression shrouded her brow, knowing she had just irreparably put her foot into her mouth, but instead of growing pensive and apologetic (well, what the heck, she had passed the point of no return anyway), she burst out laughing even more at her own goofy blunder - a situation that looked eerily familiar, except I was usually the one suffering the uncontrollable fits of hysteria under someone else's angry glare.

Chuckle as I did, I could not keep up and finally my own gush of laughter faded to a drip, and then a horrified okay-you-can-stop-laughing-now expression .... growing even more horrified as I realized there was no end in sight to her hysteria. Broken and beaten, I slunk away like a child hit with the dodge ball. "Come back, I'm, I'm .... hahahahahaha." I knew Daryl was trying desperately to contain herself and spit out a sincere apology. I love Daryl immensely and we both knew that this little rock in the road of our longtime friendship would have no negative bearing on the future of our friendship. However, I had desperately wanted us to rejoice together, not her alone laughing at pathetically sad me.

But hours later, after we had hugged, made up and laughed about the whole thing, I burst out laughing when I realized she really had thought it was a wig and I was playing a joke. Of course, that IS something I would really do, so of course Daryl might think that. I still laugh each time I remember us hugging and laughing and her sheepishly recounting how her first thought when I came jumping out was, "What a crazy wig!" Yeah, and what a crazy broad it's attached to, I thought to myself!

Well, I suppose I am lucky that my real hair looks like a wig on my head instead of my hair adorning a wig on someone else's head. Whose hair was in that wig Saturday anyway?! What spurred her and her hair to part ways (is that NOT the best pun ever?!!)? At least I knew myself and my hair would still be on the same path at day's end .... where that path would be, who knew, but my hair would be there with the secure hug it always offered come rain or shine, sleet or hail, snow or wind ..... my head would never be too far away for my hair to reach.