Wednesday, February 26, 2003

Pain, pain, glorious pain.
I could only think of one thing that could make me feel in control of my universe: Plucking my eyebrows. Maybe that lovely menstrual influx of estrogen has gone to my head. Maybe I'm really the only one that feels out of control in all of this. Either way, my tweezers and my Cover Girl compact were the best companions I could locate, so pluck I did. I look better groomed than I have in months. Too bad my heart is broken, I have insomnia, and I'm past the point of having real emotional responses to what is going on.

Heather at 7:56 PM


Tuesday, February 25, 2003

The past twenty-four hours have been a roller coaster ride.

The Good: Lots of napping and Ricki Lake after a seemingly uneventful ice storm. Watching American Idol to add a sense of constancy to my quickly changing world. Eating cereal for dinner. The way the trees have looked all day with their slight sheen of ice. The sound the magnolia leaves make in the wind when each leaf is frosty, with it's own icicle/natural wind chime at the tip. Entirely rediscovering my wardrobe after Sunday's marathon-10-load-laundry-event.

The Bad: The stress of feeling like everything I know has changed in some way. Ample amounts of time at home alone to sit and think, with only my cigarettes and a book to distract me. Hearing my pain and fear in the voice of my 17 year old sister as she explained things to me more eloquently than I could have ever explained them to someone else.

There are phone calls to make tonight, and words to put down in ink instead of type on this ridiculous screen. The weekend is almost here, and after that Spring Break will be very much on the horizon. I was hoping for a time of rest and relaxation. So much for well thought out plans.

Heather at 7:56 PM


Saturday, February 22, 2003

Music to get ready by, when the only place you have to go is One Block East. The Breeders - Title TK - Off You

I've laid this island sun a 1000 times
I'm on it
But I'm going strange
This island's chills and shell cover me
With winded rock
And skies I've got yet to see
I tried
I even sent in friends
They did it as a favor
Cause I'm not that way
I am the autumn in the scarlet
I am the make-up on your eyes

I land to sail
Island sail
Yeah, we're movin
Yeah, we're movin
This island's sun I've laid 1000 times
Fortune me
Fortune me
Of all my mistakes
I think I lent you late

But I've never seen a scarlet
Or a riot or the violence of you

I land to sail
Island sail
Yeah, we're movin'

Heather at 7:13 PM


I said I wouldn't. I'm doing it anyway. After all, John and I laughed our asses off at this.

You wanna kill Avril
Avril Lavigne, she's a disgrace to your kind.

What annoying Celebrity would you most likely wanna kill?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 2:45 PM


Friday, February 21, 2003

I don't ever remember having done this, but if the quiz says it's true, then it must be true. And I swear I'm stopping after posting this quiz. I know it's annoying. My apologies.
beatin old women for pills

what's YOUR deepest secret?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 11:42 AM


Thursday, February 20, 2003

And confirming the fears of women, children, and especially MEN everywhere... The results of the girlfriend quiz. If you haven't believed me in the past, let the quiz speak for itself.

You Suck ^-^
-Bad- You're the exact opposite of what any guy
wants or needs, unless he happens to need a
quick lay. You're cruel. You toy with people.
You're probably a bitch, and i don't think i'd
like you if i met you. Oh go screw a random
male already.

What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 2:11 PM


When you start out with cheese for the day's blog entry, sometimes it's best to keep the theme going. This one is for Amber, who will probably take the quiz over and over again to try and get this song. *wink wink*

impuslive heartbreaker
Say Goodbye

What Dave Matthews Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 2:08 PM


Orange info
Your Heart is Orange

What Color is Your Heart?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 12:38 PM


Sometimes I have to do lame things, like post top ten lists and song lyrics. Since I've already written one super lame list this week, I guess it must be time for some lyrics. This song was on repeat in my car this morning. I sang it at the top of my lungs between puffs on my cigarettes. I sang it like it meant something. Who knows if it really does.

Will You Be the One
--- Melissa Ferrick

Will you be the one I've wanted
Will you read my mind
Will ask me where I hurt
And heal me with your eyes
Will I look at you with wonder
And never doubt our love
Yeah are you the one
That I've been dreaming of

I run around in my head
And rehearse our introduction
I run around in my car
And find the best way way to your house
And even though I have never seen you
From what my friends tell me
You are walking grace

Who'd have though I'd be sitting here
Thinking my future could be right
Down the street
After all the loves I have lost
Over borders and over states
N' now I find out that you and I
Drink coffee
At the very same place
Could you be the one

Will you be the one I've wanted
Will you read my mind
Will ask me where I hurt
And heal me with your eyes
Will I look at you with wonder
And never doubt our love
Yeah are you the one
That I've been dreaming of

Yes it's true I am a hopless romantic
And I am full of pretty lines
It's also true what you've heard
About me
I fall in love every time
So would you let me down easy
If I am not what you want
Would you let me down easy
I've got a really weak heart

Will you be the one I've wanted
Will you read my mind
Will ask me where I hurt
And heal me with your eyes
Will I look at you with wonder
And never doubt our love
Yeah are you the one
That I've been dreaming of

Heather at 11:46 AM


Wednesday, February 19, 2003

Some scary shit.

Because not everyone who reads this blog reads Jeremy's journal as well, I thought I should post the same link that he has up today. We often become so jaded and lulled into a sense of security that our media is reporting all the news that's fit to print, but their definition of "fit to print" is often so slanted that the most important of stories simply fall between the cracks. The cracks that are designed to simultaneously comfort us and conceal our often sinister government. So, thanks to the BBC and special thanks to Jeremy for finding this story in the first place.

US 'plans new nuclear weapons'

In other news, some kid got in trouble for doing exactly what I did as a teacher on Friday of last week. I, being the ridiculously liberal person that I am, wore my "I don't believe in your war, Mr. Bush" t-shirt to school. This 16 year old in Michigan did something very similar. Read his story on CNN.

Anti-Bush T-shirt banned at Michigan school

Heather at 3:19 PM


Monday, February 17, 2003

"I wanted sex last week, but now I just want the fuckin' doughnut."
--- Lizzie, on the global importance of Krispy Kremes

There is a dandelion in my backyard. And not a yellow one. An I-was-already-yellow-and-now-I'm-all-poofy dandelion. Maybe it's not a mutant dandelion placed in my backyard by sinister aliens that visit in the night, but I haven't entirely ruled that out. Perhaps it has been there for a while and the curtains shifted and now I can see it. Nonetheless, it's still freaking me out.

Today sucked, but I've already gotten all my whiney-bitch attitude out of my system, thanks to one particularly wonderful friend who had a very high heather-bullshit tolerance earlier today. So instead of writing about how much today sucked, I'll bless you with a list of my absolute favorite things that I own in the world. (It's good for the soul to dwell on the positive when the negative seems to be all around.) And sure, it's a bit materialistic, but face it people. I'm a teacher. How often do I get to be truly materialistic?

1. My navy blue duvet cover with its tiny white polka dots. It keeps me cozy and warm. Now if only I had someone to cuddle with under it...
2. Sandals, sandals, and more sandals. And if the dandelion is any indicator, maybe it will eventually warm up enough so that my kids will stop telling me that I'm going to die of exposure for wearing them in freezing weather.
3. My tattoo. I paid for it, it goes places with me, so I think it's safe to say that I own it.
4. All of my books. especially the ones that have that good book smell.
5. My ridiculously random t-shirt collection. Awesome Band 94'!
6. A shiny red Starbucks travel coffee-mug, even though my kids knock it over at least once a day.
7. The Moleskin journal I bought at Square Books this weekend. It still needs a name. If you've got any ideas, drop me a line.
8. And of course, last but not least, Zelda, the currently rather dirty silver Saturn L-100.

Ah, the glory of an entirely unintellectual post. *deep sigh of mindless relief*

Heather at 3:18 PM


Sunday, February 16, 2003

"It'd be Road Rules: The Hippie Guy"
---Mike, lamely attempting to refurbish a quote and achieve the same humourous effect, on war rallies

The jury is still out as to whether or not it was a good/entertaining/enjoyable weekend. There were high points and low points. Due to the lovely realization that I had more money than I thought I had, I bought myself a new journal (for all of the stuff that isn't appropriate to go on here or in the illuminated Rho journal). It's tiny and lovely and when I'm done posting, I'm going to spend a ridiculous amount of time going through and numbering every page. It's small and black and when I write in it I feel like a super-duper-secret-agent-literary-giant. Only, someone of that caliber would never find it acceptable to create lengthy humorous phrases through the excessive use of dashes.

I think I can safely say that I've fully recovered from the fight. And hopefully I'll be singing the same tune when all of the girls are back at school tomorrow.

As for things of a darker nature, I've been reminded in the past 48 hours or so why it is that I so rarely keep secrets. I have two right now, and at any given moment either one of them seems big enough to overtake everything that is making me happy or could make me happy. And if you are reading this, let me be the first to assure you that neither secret has anything to do with you. I'm taking these puppies to the grave, anyway. Those that I can confide in have been distant this weekend, either emotionally or geographically. Maybe the anxiety will pass. Maybe I'm just homesick. Ohhhh, squash casserole.

Heather at 12:59 PM


Wednesday, February 12, 2003

You always think it isn't going to get any worse.

I can feel a bruise coming up on my thigh. Right now it's just a rather unpleasant knot that hurts immensely to touch. My chest also hurts, but hopefully that's a fleeting pain. There's no knot there to speak of, and it doesn't feel like it's going to bruise. There are beads missing from my bracelet. The broken pieces were too small to salvage. Other beads are half broken, hanging off the bracelet with dangerous sharp edges. I have coffee streaked across my white shirt. But honestly, none of this really matters.

Yesterday's write-up about my suspicions of cheating on Mr. Dimmack's test resulted in the largest fight at Simmons High School this year. It was in my classroom. It was my desks that were being pushed back. It was my students that were fighting the most heated and angry fight I've ever witnessed. Mrs. Kimble came to help. Mrs. Snyder blocked the door. Before this morning, I could say that I'd never broken up a fight. Before this morning, I could say that I'd never had to physically restrain somebody. This morning brought a lot of firsts. A lot of losses of innocence, on my part and theirs. The whole thing scared the crap out of me. I'm not sure that I'll ever see my classroom in the same way again.

Heather at 9:12 AM


Tuesday, February 11, 2003

And today I give up.

I've had bad days in the past. And, I suppose, on the whole this one truly doesn't make the top of the list. The kids have been lovely, on and off, and an impromptu observation went extraordinarily well today. We quizzed, we took notes, we were happy. But so often it is what lies just below the surface that pushes me to my keyboard during sixth period to attempt to get out at least a little of the millions of tiny things that have gone wrong today. Nearly all of them go back to our wonderful office. And each of them alone is enough to send me to get a job at Walmart, or to pack up everything I own and head back to the comforts of home to await the next round of grad school applications. I feel underappreciated and alone. I feel that every tiny piece of good I have done is so quickly overshadowed by mismanagement and beauracracy that it would have all been better to have not done the good thing in the first place.

I had to write up six students this morning for copying, distributing, and attempting to sell answers to a test in another class. I watched the kids do it, knowing the whole time that I was going to write them up and that hopefully they would get in trouble for their actions. I did write them up. I told Mr. Hollins I had written them up. He proceeded to thank me for the wonderful job that I am doing, in much the same way that he always does, bringing a small bit of reliable happiness into my work environment. And a few minutes ago, one of the students I had written up came in to tell me that the school secretary, in all of her infinite wisdom, had informed her that she had been written up, and told her that I had no proof and that she wouldn't be getting in trouble. I also had to send two students to the office because they claimed to have excused absences for yesterday. They spent the entire period in the office only to come back with unexcused absences (for YESTERDAY, not to mention the class time they missed because I was stupid enough to send them to the office.)

I am useless here. I am fighting daily battles in futility. I am wasting every second of every day in a job that is sure to be undermined the second I have to pass a single thing along to another employee of this school.

I have no doubt that I will cry my way home this afternoon, or that I will get up in the morning tomorrow and carry on with the hard work of being overlooked and under apprecaited. Maybe things are much worse because Casey isn't here today. Or maybe things are much worse because I truly am realizing that I cannot be employed by an organization that so consistently ignores truth in favor of what is easy.

Heather at 11:38 AM


Monday, February 10, 2003

Some days you just don't have it...

I'm not happy with my template. I don't particularly care for my job. Some girl's face ran into a guy's head in seventh period and the bridge of her nose was bleeding. And when I escorted them into the hall to scream/bandage, another wrestling match broke out. Apparently my kids didn't all get together and have sex over the weekend so they waited until they got to my class to take out all of their pent up hormonal energy. Yeah me!

Instead of working on the PowerPoint for Dr. Cock, Carey and I went to Walmart and bought fattening food and makeup. (Sometimes life does make sense in small, yet meaningful ways.) I finally had a little time to release some of the steam and stories that have been building up since last weekend to someone who actually listened to at least 50% of what I was saying.

I hate those days when I feel like I haven't given anything back to the world. It's bad when buying Mary Kate and Ashley nail polish makes the top ten of the most exciting and rewarding things you've done in the day. I also filled up the car with gas (Thanks George W, now I won't be eating lunch this week), dug through the tremendous pile of laundry to find a long missing black shirt, played Mah Jong online, and took an hour nap. Lord, my life is so full. Still holding out hope for tomorrow. Maybe some lovely literary type will read my blog and offer me a real job where I get to write things for a living. . . But who would want to employ someone that thinks purchasing cosmetics from former child stars is entertaining enough to be mentioned in a journal?

Heather at 8:39 PM


Saturday, February 08, 2003

Sometimes the solitude of the keyboard and the screen offers a blank canvas for truth. It doesn't hit very often on this page, but thankfully I have wonderful friends who are often in tune with the lovely hum that comes from the meeting of the inner world and the outer world. Mandy offered up just such an entry last night, and if you haven't had the chance to read it, go there now.

Heather at 7:33 PM


Friday, February 07, 2003

Because you are...

Wow, a Friday night post. It's been a while since one of these has landed. An uneventful night to end an uneventful week, full of mostly sickness and recovery. Nearly all is right with the world of Heather, except for the monster bruise which will heal in it's own time. And until then I can happily grimace through the pain that comes while resting my wrist on the edge of the laptop while typing.

Aside from being sick and the overwhelming thought of "making it through the day," the week has continually come back around to one central issue. I'm too much of a lame-ass to discuss it openly, with names and details and descriptions, but for those of you who know what in the hell I'm talking about, I think it's time to put in the last word. And I'm serious this time, so hold me to it.

Sometimes you forget how well you know yourself. And in these moments of true-identity-amnesia, it's easy to convince yourself of things that aren't necessarily true by the light of day. I don't think I've been as bad about lying to myself as some people might venture to say. (amber) But, regardless, I keep having repeated episodes of resorting back to a thought that should have died sometime in July. However, after this week, I think it's time for me to state some things that I've known all along but frequently been afraid to admit to myself, much less to other people.

First, while he is extremely attractive and funny and intelligent, he couldn't be farther from the type of person I really need to be with. (So why bother?) I love those little places in conversation for quiet and all-knowing smiles. He obliterates them. And as for the attractiveness, whatever happenned to the Heather philosophy of manditory physical domination? Second, sometimes you just know. I've never gotten those butterflies with him. Warm glow, sure. But never that knock-you-down sort of spark, and this is coming from a woman who has been known to spark very indiscriminately. And third, that issue, that ONE issue, that I enjoy writing off so much really is an issue this time. Why he is an exception on that front I'm not sure. Maybe it's because we are so much alike, and I know that if I had the strength to stay faithful because of something I had with someone then I would cherish that, especially knowing that I've never had that strength in the past and I don't see myself having it anytime in the future.

And so, because you are one of my dearest friends, it ends here. No more bullshit. No more daydreaming. The future is the future and none of us can predict it, so if anyone has contacts in Las Vegas or has already discussed this with their psychic friend and knows for a fact that the ending isn't quite this simple, feel free to keep it to yourself for now and hold out for the "I told you so," because as far as I can tell, it ends here.

Heather at 9:22 PM


I am Parisian and a bitch. Are the two related, or is it just a quirky coincidence?? I too have fallen victim to the quiz taking demon. But it's so fun to take them, and even more fun to have nifty graphics up on the site for once.

This is the new template, for better or worse. It looked awesome on my computer at home and it sort of sucks on the one at school. It will all depend on what your browser settings are. If anyone has serious complaints about it, or can phrase their suggestions in a way that won't piss me off, feel free to email me at to offer complaints or advice.

Heather at 11:45 AM


You are French
You are a Parisian.

What's your Inner European?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 11:43 AM


you're "bitch."

What swear word are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 8:00 AM


Thursday, February 06, 2003

"I got some lava lamps at home. You can borrow them."
-- Beverly (in 5th period Drama), on wooing people

Lately, I've been feeling like there's no time like the present. I mean, sure, it's a true statement. A very "duh" thing to say. But how often do we really think about things in those terms? I think I've finally realized that I was coasting for way too long. And at this moment every friend I've ever had that's ever tried to tell me to slow down or think more is cringing and squinting their eyes to avoid bearing witness to the inevitable trainwreck that must follow a statement like that when it comes from me.

But I'm here to say, in my most noble self-assured voice, screw it. I was coasting. I know I was coasting the same way you know that you've let down the emergency brake in your car. It eases away and then you are rolling. And then the rolling picks up speed. Warnings be damned, I've done some things in the last few weeks that have finally let me feel that my life is here for me to transform it into whatever I might wish it to be, and now that I've started, I'm certainly not going to be stopping any time soon.

Heather at 12:06 PM


cuddle and a kiss
cuddle and a kiss on the forehead - you like to be
close to your special someone and feel warm,
comfortable, and needed

What Sign of Affection Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Heather at 8:22 AM


Tuesday, February 04, 2003

I don't like this template. But I also don't like the fact that I can't laugh effectively because it puts me in a ridiculous amount of pain. I have many things to post, but with my (as yet undiagnosed) kidney infection I only have the energy to lay on the couch and then lay in the bed.

I love you all. I'm going to the doctor in the morning to get some super-awesome antibiotics. So until I have my prescription, expect to see this crappy template and a lot of crappy meaningless posts.

Heather at 5:00 PM


I've been messing with a new template, but for some reason whenever I do things to my blog from school, I can never see what it looks like after it's been altered. So, if the blog looks like an awful mess right now, I apologize. It will be perfect and beautiful later.

Heather at 9:48 AM


Monday, February 03, 2003

to post or not to post...

My back feels like someone took a baseball bat to it. I still have the energy of a drunken squirrell. My dad claims I took the day off because of a wicked case of "Jack Daniels Flu."

Regardless, I must go to school tomorrow, even though I can't think of a single thing that I would enjoy less. Posts about the weekend will surely follow once I have some strength and energy built up. Until then, you can read Amber's profound entry about what to do and what not to do on Beale Street.

Heather at 7:06 PM