Saturday, January 31, 2004

The Mathematics of a Masters

Money rescued from assorted pockets: $18.00

Money spent on portfolio supplies: $16.42

Money left to finance the rest of the weekend: $1.58

Having 8 uninterrupted hours with the muse of productivity and portfolio magic: PRICELESS

Heather at 2:50 PM


Friday, January 30, 2004

Dear Rich Imaginary Boyfriend,

Please consult the very alarming and sad table below. After consulting, get in touch with your richy-rich travel agent and plan some lavish cross-country road trip so that I won't have to look like such a sad bastard in front of my well-traveled friends. Recommend vehicle for said road-trip: 2004 Volvo Cross Country in "drug dealer black," if you please.

You can also feel at liberty to buy me a bounty of cheesy souveniers on the way. Recommended buys: "The World's Largest _______" t-shirts and shot glasses, diamond jewelry, and my very own Volvo, only mine should be green and a wagon.

Sure, rich imaginary boyfriend, I'd probably cheat on you eventually, and then I'd probably dump you, but just think of it this way: That contest to see who's "done it" in the most states is still on, and Volvos are big beautiful cars.

La Magnolia

create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

Heather at 9:33 AM


Thursday, January 29, 2004

Oops, my slip ad is showing

Hi, Motivation! How are you!?!

Oh, you think redesigning the blog is more worthwhile than working on the portfolio that's your final step in getting a Master's Degree?

Fantastic! I couldn't agree more.

Heather at 5:22 PM


Wednesday, January 28, 2004

The Birthday Post

I got to school this morning, thinking it would be another monotonous day, only nicer with all sorts of lovely little birthday pleasantries.

I walked into the office and was greeted by the librarian who said the following:
"Did you know D.C. passed last night?"
me: "Excuse me?"
"Yes. After the basketball game."
me: "What? He's gone?"

I'm not old enough (or married enough) to know what it might be like to lose a child. I'm also fortunate enough to have my parents and 2 out of 4 grandparents. Death isn't something I've had to deal with in the spectrum of my life experiences. So when I was informed this morning that one of my students had passed away (of an asthma attack, believe it or not), I didn't quite know how to handle myself. I've never been good with openly sharing grief. People always have to draw that sort of thing out of me. And when I saw my students coming unravelled around me, being led wailing into the counselor's office, I realized that I'd probably never have it in me to be one of those openly (and beautifully) weepy people who can leave their grief on display for others to learn from.

So for seven periods today I crumbled slowly from within, being constantly reminded of both the fact that it is my birthday and the fact that one of the brightest, kindest students I've ever taught was suddenly taken after he unexpectedly (and certainly happily) got to play for the last five minutes in the varsity basketball game.

I've thought a lot today about what it means to die young, and to lose someone that you care about, and what my own life really means in light of the tremendous sadness of today. I wish I could say that I've come up with something profound. I wish I could say that everything is a bit sharper, and means a bit more. I wish I could say that all that thinking has left me with a clearer view of the beauty of life, the sanctity of birthdays, and the absolute horror of an unexpected death. I wish I could say that I drove the speed limit on the way home today, but I didn't. I drove like a maniac and sang the saddest songs I could find and cried when I could.

Heather at 6:08 PM


Tuesday, January 27, 2004

For the two people who will know what I'm talking about.

I'll be making "Free Brad" t-shirts tomorrow.

If you want one, please leave sizes and color preferences in the comment box, because we here at Magnolia Coffee "aren't going to sleep until Brad is FREE!"

Heather at 8:55 PM


Monday, January 26, 2004

The Joy of Post 3:05

As I was packing up to leave school today, A.R. dropped by to remind me that I promised her I'd find her some research on a topic for her Health class.

"Oh yeah, sorry I'd forgotten about that. I'll try to remember tonight."
A: "How can we make sure you remember?"
"Maybe we can write it on my hand?"
A: "Great idea" (getting pen out of backpack, preparing to write on my hand)
Suddenly it dawns on me that one of my students is about to write GENITAL HERPES in big block letters on my hand.
"Um, maybe we should abbreviate. If you just write 'G.H.' I'm sure I'll remember what it stands for."
A: "You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm definitely sure."

Heather at 7:12 PM


Saturday, January 24, 2004

In Memoriam: The Rho Tradition

Last night at "the bar," J.B. made a request for the cheer. Oh, the cheer. The grand statement of all that is good and pure(?) about the Rhos.

So I took out the moleskin, wrote it down inside the front cover, next to the address and "If found a reward of _______ will be given."

I swear I nearly cried. To be writing it without my sisters was nearly too much, then to think of how long it's been since we've been sisters together, then to have T. ask me if he could write something in my journal.

Heather at 10:16 AM


Thursday, January 22, 2004

The Wish List

No one has actually asked me what I wanted for my birthday. No, it's cool. Stay where you are. I'm not hurt or anything. But for those of you who meant to get around to asking me what I wanted and it somehow slipped your mind, I thought I'd offer up a few helpful suggestions.

1. Cash
When I'm wondering if I can go to Walmart and afford a box of tampons, we know that things have gotten bad. Checks will also be accepted if I can be fairly sure they won't bounce. You know who you are, you check bouncing fools.

2. Cigarettes
You pick the brand. Lights or ultra lights. Feel free to surprise me.

3. Gas for my car
Always a plus, because then I can get to work and back to make money to buy those much needed tampons.

4. Food that I wouldn't buy for myself
Can include such luxuries as ALCOHOL, the good tuna, deli lunch meat, terra chips, and all my other food fetishes that I feel evil indulging on a teacher's budget

5. AAA Batteries
See? This is inexpensive and entirely needed. You too can be part of the birthday fun!! (p.s. I've been moving the same two AAAs between the DVD remote and the bikini trimmer. It's grossing John out. Someone buy me batteries, if only for his sake.)

6. A Super Awesome Boyfriend
Yeah, it's kinda soon. But still, if you know anyone that I haven't been introduced to, we can work out a deal.

7. A day off work
This could potentially be free if you talk me into going out tonight and then convince me that I'm too good to go to work tomorrow. Not technically ON my birthday, but acceptable nonetheless.

8. Anything cute, kitschy, or antique

9. Craft supplies
Try not to be confounded by this one. Just go in Walmart, find the craft section, and put things in the cart that are colorful. It's really that simple.

Hope this helps. If you're far away and you need to mail packages, you can always email for the address.

Heather at 9:39 AM


Tuesday, January 20, 2004

Dear Edwards Site Traffic,

The writer/owner/queen of this site is a die-hard supporter of Senator John Edwards. From the first time I saw him speak on tv I was hooked, and I haven't looked back since. Thanks so much for dropping by the site, and I promise to continue to add my political reflections and insights as the campaign progresses (such as mentions of my victory runs around my neighborhood).

If anyone who found the site is actually from Mississippi, feel free to email me at magnolia_coffeeATyahooDOTcom. Maybe we could plan some sort of in-state Edwards get together.

In Democratic Solidarity,

Heather at 9:44 AM


Monday, January 19, 2004

MLK: The Sequel or "I had no money, so the sequel kind of only appealed to people who really didn't see the first one"

Good: Going to Spectators on Saturday night.
Better: Getting the whole group to go out, and making sure my 'new friend' had some other people to fall back on just in case I get tragically boring.
Best: Remembering that the truest of friends will tell you the absolute truth even when they know it's going to hurt like hell.

Good: Drinking a lot of Jack and Coke.
Better: Not having a hangover on Sunday morning.
Best: Having someone hug me goodbye while I was still asleep.

Good: Spending Monday afternoon playing outside.
Better: Stealing a backpacker-crossing sign and then carrying it in my pants for approximately 1.25 hours.
Best: Conversation nearly rivaling the Starbucks trip of MLK 2003.

Good: Putting gas in my car.
Better: Ashley getting a car.
Best: The potential for eternal Heather-Ashley Greenville-Memphis trips.

Good: Watching approximately every 3rd scene in Full Frontal.
Better: Watching Casey and Theran attempt to beat rednecks at pool.
Best: Listening to Seth tell everyone he remembered "back when I was younger" when "I could really drink."

Heather at 9:07 PM


Sunday, January 18, 2004

To the person who got here...

by searching for "The Woman in Greenville, MS that wants to have sex tonight," we appreciate your interest, but we regret to inform you that we anticipate being closed for the next five to seven days, (and I'm not sure that we were ever taking applications in the first place). You might want to look here.

Heather at 4:49 PM


Saturday, January 17, 2004

Saturday Morning Routine o' Bliss

My life makes me happy. Sometimes, really happy. Saturday morning always seems to be one of those times. The routine goes as follows:

1. Wake up sans alarm. Smile. Stretch. Realize is it quickly approaching 11. Enjoy.
2. Go downstairs, water for coffee, coffee for coffee, turn on pot.
3. Do dishes, clean countertops.
4. Check to see if coffee is ready. Sometimes I talk to it. "Coffee, are you ready? I love you coffee. Want to go outside with me?"
5. Pour coffee and copious amounts of cream into cute handmade coffee cup from over-priced pottery boutique.
6. Procure reading materials for porch. This morning featured both a pilfered-from-the-school-office copy of Teen People and the 2004 Prom Designs catalog.
7. Smoke, drink coffee, watch cars/homeless dog/random sketchy people on the street, read, smoke again, more coffee, more reading.
8. Go inside (as it is now officially eleven) and watch Trading Spaces.

As I've been known to say ad nauseum, it really is the simple things that make it all worthwhile.

Heather at 10:44 AM


Thursday, January 15, 2004

Rose: Tell me, is it possible to love two men at the same time?
Blanche: Set the scene, have we been drinking?
--The Golden Girls

Anya said it best when she reminded me that the "Heather New Year" technically doesn't begin for two more weeks. So, hurrah for me for doing a bit of closet-cleaning at the dawn of everyone else's New Year. So, in accordance with the theme and in a nod to the noble and like-minded Breakup Babe, a run down of all the has-beens, wanna-bes, and current boy toys. Enjoy.

Hipster Boy (January)
Pro: Made an Amelie reference and expected me to get it after only knowing me for two hours.
Con: Young, girlfriend, pothead

Probably Bought his Izods at an Outlet Mall Boy (February)
Pro: He was there.
Con: I think he was dull as toast but I was too drunk to remember.

Bad Idea Karaoke Boy (aka N.C.B. and/or FBBJ) (April)
Pro: Gave us the most memorable acronyms of 2003
Con: Generally creepy redneck, camper on truck, ghetto booty

Flighty Pot-head Boy (April, October, December, ?)
Pro: Funny, witty, cynical, cool dog
Con: A poorly timed fling with a local "news girl"

Grab-Ass Redneck Boy (June)
Pro: Tall, cuddly, adored me
Con: Republican, saw no meaning in the job that I'm doing, overly aggressive

Entirely-too-young Narcissistic Boy (July)
Pro: Muscley, thought he was really smart.
Con: In reality, actually very dumb. Oh, and a liar. Not good.

Porn-owning Asexual Boy (July - January)
Pro: My working-definition of a "cute guy"
Con: Workaholic, libido-challenged (with a porn collection?!? hello?!) bore

On the Road Again Boy (November)
Pro: Extremely educated, witty, good listener, cool scar
Con: Perpetually travelling and/or missing

God bless 2004 and the exploits (sexual and otherwise) that are yet to come. It's nice to look back on a year and be able to say "Holy shit, how am I ever going to top that?"

Heather at 5:26 PM


Wednesday, January 14, 2004

You know that moment in class, when things are actually quiet for once, and you're fucking around online because kids are actually WORKING and they've remembered, if only temporarily, how to do things like write sentences and read complete paragraphs, and suddenly you come across a webpage that has some obnoxious blaring sound and then the kids are all, "OOOHHH! what are you DOING on tha COMPUTER???" as if you'd just spent the last hour concocting some great terrorist plot or figuring out how to mathematically (and legitimately) fail all of them.

Oh really? I'm the only one who does that?

Well, for all you lying bitches, here's a link so that you can do it tomorrow since you're all so mature that it's never happenned to you before.

Heather at 9:58 PM


Tuesday, January 13, 2004

I'm even ripping myself off now.

Taken from an email to a dear friend from this morning when I'm fairly sure I was being paid to "educate the youth of america" or "make sure no one is left behind" or some shit like that, all written in response to a request for ultimate favorite pick-up lines:

Alas, I made an ill-advised wardrobe choice or two this morning. I think my skirt is a bit too short and my heels are a bit too high, mainly because they are heels. With the ankle injury my feet should be planted firmly on the ground. I'm sure by the time the day is over, I'll look like some 15 year old trapped at the prom, wearing shoes she let her bestfriend pick out for her, that are now being used as some sort of trendy accessory, dangling gracefully from one pinky finger by their skinny, impractical straps.

Heather approved pick-up line:
"You look like you have a literary mind. Wanna fool around in the back of my Saturn?"

Heather at 8:38 PM


Monday, January 12, 2004

e.e. cummings would not be proud

I slept like this:
sleep, half sleep, turn over, look at clock.
terrifying dream, half sleep, turn over,
look at clock. Tell me this,
how can it be 2:36 twice
in one night? But it was.
And odds are, the way today has gone
2:36 might come three times
if I ever manage to sleep at all tonight.

I worked like this:
Half smile, "good morning to you, too,"
Yes, Ms. J had a bad weekend. Yes,
your silence would be greatly appreciated.
Half smile, three quarters frown,
message to Lizzie to remember that
one, I am alive. two, there are people
that do in fact love me.
Half smile, biting sarcasm, home.

I remember this:
I have been here before. It has
been much worse than this before.
This is not the end of the world.
This is a million cliches all rolled into
one big slimey glob of cliche.
I am not the jilted girlfriend. I am
"the bitch." I'm not doing much
to live up to either.

I want this:
To remember that my bed is
mine and mine alone. A nap with
many happy floaty dreams. An
expression for the day other than
a pronounced exasperated sigh and
enough time to remember
what in the hell I'm exactly
all about.

Heather at 2:49 PM


Sunday, January 11, 2004

Dear everything,

I'm sorry. Really I am. I was trying to be all big and bad on the phone and I forgot to let on that all of it was tearing me up. And the whole time I was talking I wanted you to shut me up and tell me to cut the crap and ask what was really going on with me. But you didn't, because that just isn't how you are.

What's done is done, I suppose.

Some of us just never seem to know any better.


Thank you for letting me sob into the phone like I sobbed when I was 14 and convinced no one in the world would ever love me. I realize that tonight's conversation was much like those same ones we had nearly ten years ago. Thanks for not thinking there was anything strange about that, and continuing to love me in the fierce way that only you are capable of.


Dear L'oreal Voluminous Mascara,
I'm well aware that you lengthen and fortify my lashes, but god DAMN could you please not hurt so much when I have an emotionally dramatic night and need to take extended periods of time by myself on the porch for extended smoking/crying fits?

Do you come in waterproof?

A now nearly blind customer

ATTN: The male population of the world.
Notice effective immediately.

Do not call me. I will call you if I have any business (shady or otherwise) to handle with you.

I'm in no condition to be fielding inquiries from horny little boys now fully informed of the fact that I bit the bullet and dumped the boyfriend.

And yes, I mean it.

Ms. Johnston

Dear week of January 12th:
Please try to be nice to me. Your first day has sucked so thoroughly that I seriously have my doubts as for the rest of you. Try to come through for me, ok?


Heather at 9:30 PM


Suggestions welcomed, but rarely heeded.

I'm sorry to god and everyone who finds Sunday to be a worthwhile expenditure of 24 painfully SLOW hours, but Jesus f-ing Christ it's killing me. We aren't talking crucifixion bad (just to make another highly inappropriate religious reference), but as it stands right now I think I'm going to spend the rest of my evening eating microwaved soup and watching The Hours just to remind myself exactly how shitty I feel right now.

And yes, there is an explanation for all this. We'll get to that later...

Heather at 4:18 PM


Tuesday, January 06, 2004

Yeah, I'm really hung up on this OR An open-ended letter to an underappreciated holiday

Dear Martin Luther King Jr. Holiday Weekend,

First off, I miss you. I miss you the way I would miss you if you were my boyfriend and you broke up with me while I was totally still in love with you and then proceeded to spend the next two weeks on my couch crying and eating Reese's Cups and drinking Cherry Coke. These are serious feelings of longing we're dealing with here. So, I was thinking I should get in touch with you and maybe we could cut a deal. (I'll try to make said deal as simple as possible, as I'm sure you have other MLK and/or civil rights related stuff you should be doing.)

The "deal" *wink wink*
1. Please make the time between now and your beloved day pass as quickly as possible.

2. Any events that closely resemble last year's MLK weekend can be re-used this year with little to no complaining from me. Such events can include but are not limited to the following:
*The entire city of Memphis
*Nap time and/or SNL reruns
*Strangers who turn out to be really hot and then let me sleep in their houses and/or in their beds. (Futons will suffice in a pinch.)
*Starbucks (snow optional)
*Really kick ass conversations

3. MLK weekend must be so astoundingly awesome that it inspires me to make it all the way to Spring Break (while taking a minimal number of "mental health days").

Thanks for all you've done for us, MLK Holiday Weekend! I hope to hear from you soon. Until then, have a lovely January, and remember your promise to respond to requests on a first come first serve basis because I'm getting this baby in early for a reason.

In love and solidarity,

P.S. Don't forget I'm giving you ample time to make this happen. I expect the best, and if not the best, then at least something I can look back on and say, "Man, I was drunk and that was FUN."

Heather at 2:26 PM


This Fish is really good today. Just in case you're bored or at work looking at blogs or something.

Is anyone else already having super-fond memories of last year's MLK weekend? (See Archives, January 20-26, 2003)

Heather at 6:34 AM


Sunday, January 04, 2004

Just in case you were wondering.

1. Grocery shopping and a sprained (hopefully just sprained) ankle are the worst combination of circumstances on god's green earth. By the time I got to aisle 3 I was asking complete strangers to amputate.

2. To the little blonde girl (aged 4 with the psycho-bitch attitude), I heard you say "Mommy, that weird girl is blocking our cart. Get her to move," and for the record, I wasn't blocking your fucking cart, now go chew on the end of your ponytail and hold your breath until middle school when you'll be hideous in addition to being dumb with a terrible attitude.

3. Thanks to John for putting away the groceries, not calling me a complete idiot for shopping in the first place, and mentioning (in his infinite attentiveness) that he was sorry I couldn't put them away myself because it is my MOST favorite thing to do. (no seriously, it is.)

4. Thanks again to John for his new French and/or Polish holiday romance, and said romance's invitation of "sex phone," with John of course... but if he knew me it might be a different story.

5. Geaux Tigers, which is where I'm headed now. Back to the living room floor to read Glamour and watch football, because I'm just that kind of girl.

Heather at 7:24 PM


Saturday, January 03, 2004

I think it may have EXPLODED

First off, welcome back all. For those of you who think I have a LOT of explaining to do, you are correct. One hundred percent. And I'll get to all of that later. But in the meantime, an explanation of my exceedingly pathetic idiocy.

You see, all in all, I'm a kid. A little, scared kid. So when I'm in this huge freaking house all by myself late at night, I tend to do silly little kid things. (And no, at present, there are no monsters under the bed. I had it thoroughly inspected by the Greenville Monster Squad.) However, late last night, waaaaaaay past my bedtime, I was certain of two things. One, I had not locked the front door. And two, because of blunder one, there was now someone in my house waiting to kill me and/or steal my stereo and brand new DVD player.

So, since neither of my male noise-checkers were around to make sure I was properly tucked (read: not delusional and paranoid), I elected to do the noise checking myself. Historically bad idea. In my creeping-Mission-Impossible noise checking, I deemed it best to leave the stairway light turned off. Due to this oh so witty decision, I missed at least the last three steps on the stair case.

My ankle shifted into some terribly awkward and very LOUD position, taking the full brunt not-so-slim 5'6" frame as it found its way to the bottom of the stairs. My thoughts as I lay sprawled on the floor, head resting on step #2 went a little something like this (in no particular order):
"Holy SHIT that hurt."
"I wonder if the door is locked."
"Is my foot even still attached?"
"Do you KNOW how much my deductible is?"
"Holy SHIT!!! that hurt."

I then belly crawled to the door only to find that it was indeed locked. Damnit. Worked my way into a seated position. Then into some not so graceful flamingo configuration and proceeded to hop my way back upstairs. Not fun at all.

Once upstairs, I elevated and assessed. My ankles are notoriously "loose". I can roll them, touch them to the ground on either side, no biggie. Too many years of soccer have made them nearly grotesque in their flexibility. But still, I needed a consult. Something just didn't feel right. Things were getting all tingly and numb.

I called Tina (with it now nearly 2 in the morning). Brief conversation about how in the hell I got myself into this fix. And then, in her infinite awesome friendness, she came back over, tended to me like a war nurse, iced, wrapped, and elevated the ankle, pumped me full of Aleve, and went on her way. Thank God I have friends like that.

Now, almost twelve hours since "the incident," it still feels strange. If I do put weight on it, it makes alarming noises. And in my experiences, I recall ankles being relatively silent in their normal function. I've yet to trek to the ER or to a clinic. I'm holding out for either excruciating pain, alarming swelling, or better insurance, whichever comes first.

Heather at 9:40 AM