Prayers and Turkey Basters.

Just a quick post today asking for a quick favor:

I have several friends who've either JUST been sperminated or who are preparing to be sperminated in the near future.

Will you please say a quick prayer to whomever your Higher power may be.

I'll even provide you with the prayer. I know you are busy people and I want to make sure you do this. So, I'm prepared to provide you with all the necessary tools.

Before you begin to recite the prayer below, it might show you mean business if you go to the kitchen and get your turkey baster. All you have to do is hold it while you pray. I'm not saying that'll be the deciding factor, but if there's a chance it might help my friends get knocked up, I'm not above asking you to do it. Please and thank you.

Dear _________:

Please make sure all of Heather's lesbian friends get shot up with super strong, competitive sperm. I also lift all eggs in question up to you and ask that they be receptive to sperm as it's very probable that they have no idea what the substance is. Let them not be afraid or confused, but rather open and willing to invite the sperm in. Let the sperm be good sperm, of noble character and wicked good looks.

Amen.

Thanks guys. I really 'preciate you.

Wait until you see what I plan on asking you when I'm ready to procreate....

ps: Lee Knight and Dana, I'm following your voyage into mommyhood and loving every minute of it! Congrats on the new addition :)

PSS: Okay, for those of you who know me, you know I'm not kidding when I say I hate it when people are funnier than me. My ego withers up and dies a little every time it happens. That being said, I can admit when it occurs. Which explains why I am including Joshua's comment on my actual blog post because I'm afraid it won't get the adulation it deserves if left as a mere comment. This is fucking brilliant. He wrote:

Our Sperm, who art in utero, hallowed be thy Name. Thy donor cum, his will be done, in vitro as it was in plastic cup.

Give us this day our fertile sperm. And forgive us our turkey basters. Lead us not into stagnation, but deliver us an infant. For thine is the inseminate, and the power, and the glory, Amen

This To Shall Pass.

Truth be told, I had no idea what I was going to blog about tonight - but figured I could rely on my uncanny ability to find inappropriate humor in SOMETHING.

I sat down at my computer and immediately lost my funny when I read about the tornadoes that tore through Virginia today, wounding nearly 200 people.

Chaos. Not far from where I live.





Cuts. Bruises. Legs that don't work.

Family members searching for each other. Desperate.

Homes destroyed.

Animals lost.

Cars flipped.

Businesses upended.

Photos and heirlooms broken and hurled into parts unknown.

Gone. All. Gone.

Life can change so quickly. Unexpectedly.

I keep forgetting.

9-11 taught me that.

The Indian Ocean tsunami in December of '04 reminded me of it.

Hurricanes Katrina and Rita proved the point again.

Today's unruly tornado nearly knocked on my own door.

I know many people are suffering tonight.

It seems ungrateful not to live life to the fullest. I almost feel I owe my neighbors down the road at least that much.

I also know that mankind has been tested, brought to our knees, and we've always managed to stand up again. Taller. Prouder. Stronger.

Large scale disasters and trauma give birth to limitless compassion, selflessness and awareness of the human spirit.

My thoughts are with all of those suffering tonight. You will walk taller. Prouder. Stronger.

*Photos taken from CNN website.

Dog Days are my Favorite Days

Our dogs are incredibly spoiled and have not been happy with weeks of neglect.

Don't get me wrong....we do remember to feed them most days and still kiss them on the teeth, but every time they bark "leash!" and we pretend to hear "ear scratch," they get a little pissy.

Yesterday, the guilt got to be too much and we loaded 'em up and hauled them to a local park for a hike.

Stewart had to see it t believe it:


Jean Paul doesn't care where he's going as long as he's got a lap to sit on:


About 30 minutes into our hike, we came across a water hole...we held our breath, hoping and praying Stewart wouldn't see it. So far so good:


I managed to distract Jean Paul and Rosie fairly easily:


But Stewart ain't so easily conned. Into the nasty water he went:


Our groans of disgust were pretty quickly replaced by "Aw, but look! He's smiling!"


He's a smart dog though. He knew, as he started to come out of the water, that we did not want to load his wet stanky ass in our car:


At least he's super thoughtful...Anything to help keep the car clean (shake, shake, shake):


I hope our future children are as conscientious....

ps. We did our good deed for the day and saved a turtle who was making a pretty bad choice to cross a busy road. I picked him up, took him over to the creek, wagged my finger at him and said suicide was never the answer. I think he heard me.

Rambling Exhaustion

I just ate Long John Silvers for dinner.

At 10pm.

I had no business pouring a vat of grease down my throat.

The cheese curds seemed like a good idea at the time.

Not so much.

Been a pretty exhausting day.

And by pretty exhausting, I mean kill me now.

I'm almost too tired to bitch about not having any more Diet Cokes in the house.

Almost.

Sign Language.

I'm not sure if it was Letterman or Leno that used to point out hysterical typos and unintentional faux pas (usually made in church bulletins or the like), but it was always my favorite part of the opening monologue.

For example:

In a bulletin:
The outreach committee has enlisted 25 visitors to make calls on people who are not afflicted with any church....

In a restaurant, a sign read:
Customers who consider our waitresses uncivil ought to see the
manager...

In the office of a loan company:
Ask about our plans for owning your home....

I get so much enjoyment out of these things, that I'm constantly on the lookout for them.

I drove by a sign the other day that I've passed a million times before and never noticed.

What caused me to actually read it this time, I have no clue.

The sign was in front of an elementary school and looked like this:



Well, it sort of looked like that. The sign I saw included a bit more information.

This is what I was actually looking at (clearly recreated via my sucky Photoshop skills):


Now, come on....

What enterprising second grader isn't going to be able to talk him or herself out of this one?

Seriously.

"But officer, I'm 1,000 and ONE feet out of the drug free zone!"

I'm thinking you'd have to let them skate....

Translation?

To say that April and I communicate differently is like saying Ann Coulter is probably a Republican and a man in drag.

Um...duh.

It's astounding to me that I can love a person so much and yet have no insight into her thought process.

I can't tell you how many times I've cut my eyes at her and asked: "Can you explain to me the reasoning behind your statement? I just asked if we had peanut butter and you answered by telling me that we should probably put all the grocery receipts in one place. I need some help here. 'Splain it to me, Lucy."

The answer is often something like: "You said peanut butter, which reminded me of the grocery store, which led me to think of all the receipts thrown in the bottom of your bag, which triggered my flavors of OCD, which got me off track and the only way I could get back on track was to organize everything and figure out a place for the receipts. Understand?"

Uh huh.

If ever we DO find ourselves on the same page, it's not long before life sends us a reminder that we shouldn't get too comfortable.

Often, the reminders are quite humorous.

For example:

A few weekends ago, we woke up early on Saturday morning, ready to greet the day and knock out some errands.

I rolled over and said: "All right, I'll hop in the shower first and then take care of putting the clothes away."

To which she replied:

"Okay. So, you want me to shower second?"

Ummmmm....

"Well," I said, carefully, "let me confer with all the other women I have hidden under the bed and see if they care what order they shower in...."

Try as I might to figure out how her brain fires, I usually come up with nada.

And most times she can't give me a good answer herself...she just looks all cute like and grins...

Why she won't give in and just say, "You're right, Heather. I don't have the slightest clue as to why I say what I say," I'll never know. It's certainly not because she hasn't been prompted...

She's too stubborn for her own good. That's why.

Which means, of course, we do share ONE thing in common....

I can't help but adore her.

My Want List.

If my Granny says it, I listen.

Her words are weighted with truth, experience, sincerity and a perspective that comes from raising six children on a farm in the hills of Tennessee.

Several years ago she and I were sitting on the porch sipping Bud Lights and the discussion turned to life and how most people are living it in fast-forward.

We want everything now.

Right now.

Some of us even want it yesterday.

We want stuff so quickly that we rarely stop to think about what other people need.

My Granny made some pretty profound statements that day, but one in particular really stuck with me.

"Feather," she said, "people are in such a hurry now-a-days that they've even turned 'How are you doing?' into a greeting instead of a question! I reckon' nobody wants to wait for an answer anymore. In my day you could sit with someone for a half hour listening to how their day was going!"

I'm sure I blushed. I'm way guilty of this.

I regularly catch myself operating on autopilot as I pass coworkers in the hall. I'll say, "Hey, how's it going?" and not even stop to hear their answer. It's as though I already know or expect they are going to say "fine" and keep walking themselves.

Just last week I was walking down the hall, lost in thought, and I passed a pal of mine. She said, "Hey Heather," and I said, "fine, thanks!"

She looked momentarily confused and I looked mortified.

Autopilot. Again. Not present. Again.

It's not how I want to live.

I want to slow down. Wait for answers.

Experience life in real time.

April and I have been discussing this a lot lately. We've been so wrapped up in our own day-to-day lives that we haven't paid much attention to the world around us.

We're both big believers in the Law of Attraction and the theory that the energy you exert determines the energy you receive.

It may sound hokey, but the moment we decided to be present and purposefully positive again, the world responded.

For example:

I was sitting in a very long line at the McDonald's drive through when a guy entered the parking lot from a side street. He was unable to get to the back of the line (given the layout of the parking lot) and none of the six cars in front of me would let him in. I could see his predicament and I waved him ahead of me.

As I approached the window to pick up my food, I was told I owed nothing.

The guy in front of me had paid my bill and said "thanks."

I was completely surprised and humbled by the reminder that it takes so little to help someone else out.

Soon after the McDonald's incident, April and I found ourselves at WalMart on a Saturday morning and instead of cursing the crowd we decided to be thankful that we had the financial resources to shop at all. The store was incredibly crowded, but the line we chose moved like lightening and the wait was nominal.

Power of positive thinking?

It was raining outside as we moved our groceries from the cart to the back of the Jeep. As I removed the last item, a guy walked by and said "Hey, I'll take your cart for you. The drop off is pretty far away and I'm parked right by it."

I said Thank You and marveled at his offer. Never has a complete stranger just walked up to us and offered to take our cart back.

Power of positive energy?

They may seem like little things, but it's the little things Apes and I are determined to pay attention to.

As we turned to go, we noticed two Hispanic men still trying to use a coat hanger to pop the lock of their old Nissan. We'd seen them on our way into WalMart and thirty minutes later they'd made no progress. They were soaking wet and looked really frustrated.

Without discussing it with each other, April and I simultaneously shut our car doors and approached them to see if we could help.

They spoke little English, but it wasn't necessary. The keys on the seat said it all.

We tried several tactics over the next twenty minutes, but had no luck. We hated to leave, but they seemed ready to give up and go inside.

We waved goodbye and actually remembered to be thankful for the keys in our hand and the dry towel in back seat.

As we drove away, Apes and I felt better than we have in a long time. A really long time.

Having a perfect stranger go out of his way to help us felt great. Being able to Pay it Forward and try to help someone else felt even better.

We're trying to hold on to that feeling when life feels like it wants to run away with us.

I want to be present.

I want to step outside of myself and my life.

I want to do the little things for other people.

I want "How are you doing?" to be a question again.

Random Weekend Update.

I need to shave my legs. In a bad way. There's no need for this winter coat anymore. It's gonna be nearly 80 degrees today.

I just had my teeth cleaned. No cavities. Sweet Niblets! I didn't get a toothbrush from my dentist. Since when did they start giving out toothpaste, but no toothbrush? I feel robbed. I may give up brushing in protest.

Apes and I celebrated the marriage of two beautiful people last night. In their backyard. Under a tent. With white lights. I love love.

I'm so freakin' white that soon people will need to wear special glasses to protect their eyes should they happen to come upon me while I'm wearing shorts.

I burned my right arm the other day. Have a nasty mark to prove it. It's never a good idea to try and take pizza out of the oven while you are distracted. My arm hit the burner, I heard some sizzling and realized my arm was more cooked than our dinner. Let's just say the "DEAR GOD" I uttered was not followed by a grace thanking Him for our food...

I actually managed to find a Law and Order:SVU episode that I've never seen before. That is no small feat. Trust me.

I'm hoping Apes and I find the energy to take a little overnight trip tonight. She's halfway agreed, but is making me mow the lawn while she takes care of some other household business...something about being responsible adults and taking care of our responsibilities before we jet set all over the place.

blah blah blah...

I'm off to see if I can slip the 10 year old next door $15 to mow. I have some TIVO to catch up on....

Blossoming.

Last weekend, Apes and I went to the Cherry Blossom Festival in DC with Heidi and Teri.

Thanks to a storm that blew through the night before, it was more like the "eh" Festival...Seriously. There might have been four blossoms left on each tree.

Somehow we managed to eek out some fun anyway.

Here's the best view of a cherry blossom that we had all day:


Apes couldn't help herself. It's clear why I love her, no?


Marriage looks good on these two, don't it?


We're more of the bruiser couple. For the record, she dropped me...


Ape posing next to her favorite number (times two) in the Tulip Library:


Once on the drill team, always on the drill team...


Cherry Blossoms or Funny Blossoms?


Clearly not so funny anymore...


You can't be in DC and NOT take this MONUMENTal picture:


We saw this storefront on the way out of the festival and I had to pose. This window begged for it:



All I need, right here:

April-isms

April just told me....

that I can't pull the wool over her ass.

...in case you thought I was kidding when I said she has serious issues with any common phrase...

She. Ain't. Right.

So, April and I were devouring a scrumptious dinner of ham sandwiches and chocolate fondue sauce when she started to tell me about a political conversation she had with one of her friends the other day.

Apparently her pal is super conservative and still very much a George Bush supporter.

They got to talking about all kinds of topics that I typically avoid when it comes to politics and conservatives.

At some point April got fired up.

As she was explaining this to me, she said:

"I mean it, Heather. I totally got on my cereal box!"

I'm ashamed to say that I immediately knew she meant soap box.

She's ruining me.

And yes, I gave her shit for it.

*ps - we didn't actually eat the sandwiches and the chocolate sauce together. That would be weird. Everyone knows chocolate is for dessert.

*pss - April and I went to see Margaret Cho in DC last Friday night (with our friends Heidi and Teri) and we had an absolute blast. More on that in a bit!

'Member Me?

I'm the short little blond girl who likes diet coke, making fun of her girlfriend and writing blogs more than a couple of times a week...

'Member now?

Life has gotten away from me a bit and I feel so disconnected - from my writing, my friends, and your blogs.

I have a pad full of ideas and even a napkin with notes all yearning to be converted into a blog.

It's never far from my mind.

Scents. Smells. Smiles. Jokes. Meaningful Exchanges. Energy. Bras. Karma.

I have something to say 'bout of all 'em.

Stay tuned :)

h

Back to Black...Olga's Adventures Continue

After harnessing a lion and schooling a bunch of teachers on proper bra removal etiquette, Olga was ready to spread her straps and take on Paris.

We took the Eurostar (chunnel) from London to Paris and tried to hold our breath during the under water portion of the trip.

Perhaps we should have learned, prior to turning blue, that we'd be underwater for 23 miles.

Details, details.

It was a very cool experience, though.



Olga was busting at the cups to start leaving her mark on the most romantic city in the world.

We were greeted at the train station by one of our favorite blogging pals, Lisa, and her boyfriend That Guy.

Immediately, we were family. It's amazing how that happens in the blogging world. We write. We connect. We meet. We just "fit."

Probably similar to how Olga feels when she finds the perfect Mistress. Without the writing part...I'm guessing. I mean, I don't want to assume Olga doesn't write. That would be ignorant of me.

After Lisa and That Guy navigated the Metro with us and got us all set up in our hotel, it was time to start sight seeing.

Olga did not want to miss a thing.


Playing hostess came easily for Lisa and That Guy and they made SURE Olga sampled a typical Parisian appetizer.

Here's Olga's before picture:


Aannnd, her after picture:


(Insert bad Olga sure was "hung over" joke here...get it, she was hung over the bottles...get it? Get it? Blame April...that was her line).

Olga was all about getting to see Mona Lisa. We had to have a very stern talk with her about keeping her cups to herself. The security folks at the Louvre might not appreciate Olga's concern for Mona's ta tas.

Olga showed some serious restraint and remained in her travel pouch during most of the Louvre trip. She did insist she come out for at least one photo in front of the famous art museum.


I tease Olga (a lot) for being high maintenance, but truly, she's a selfless giver. It was colder than a well diggers butt in Paris and as night fell, my face froze.

Olga to the rescue!


The weather was so bad the following day, we didn't get all the way to the Eiffel Tower, but we DID agree to get close enough to take Olga's picture - and we promised her we'd go back. She made us swear on our mother's breasts (who DOES that?!)



Next up for Ogla, Notre Dame, of course. We met up with Lisa the following day and you have no idea how many people oogled Olga during this particular photo shoot.



Then, as promised, off we went to the Eiffel Tower (mom, you and your boobs can thank us later):


Now, we all have them. Family members that are, well, a bit not like the rest of us. Family we don't really discuss because they make choices in life we question.

It doesn't mean we don't love them. Or that we don't visit them.

The same is true for Olga.

She felt strongly she had to visit her relatives in the red light district of Pigalle. I respect her for that.



After two days, we were worn out. Even Olga needed a few moments to re-fill her cups.

She napped while we hung around with Lisa and That Guy. And the most adorable kitty ever. Mao.



Stay tuned for the next installment: Olga heads back to London and gets S M A R T!

OH MY GOOD GOD.

I have to take an unscheduled Olga break in order to humiliate myself.

For your enjoyment.

My best friend from college, Laura, just sent me an email that read:

I just found this and died laughing...enjoy!

Attached to her email was THIS picture, taken of my pal Suzi and I a billion years ago in Chapel Hill, NC.



Are you finished hyperventilating?

So many things are bad wrong here.

1. WTF is up with my frightening head of hair? Clearly Suzi had just made one of her really inappropriate remarks, causing me to jump up and down with glee, creating the unfortunate disaster displayed here.

2. I am obviously mistaken about the love and concern I ASSUMED both Laura and Suzi have for me. If they were truly my best pals, they'd have NEVER EVER let me out of the house with those shorts on. I'm quite certain my belt is somewhere between my fourth and fifth rib instead of down beneath my belly button where it should be.

3. I'm not sure where we were heading, but it probably wasn't under water diving as my big-as-my-face wrist watch would imply.

3. Suzi shooting me the bird isn't actually bad wrong. In fact, it's quite normal and probably fairly good evidence that I'm the one who said something disgusting and completely out of line.

So many years I spent wondering why no one ever asked me out....

Suzi and Laura, I forgive you. But only because no one else creates memories like THIS ONE with me.

More BRAgging...

All righty...last time we left Olga, she was two pints to the wind and begging me to ask the bartender at Minister Tavern (in Ely, London) if he'd pose for a picture with her.

I drank my own pint of liquid courage and approached the bar to explain exactly what it was I wanted him to do.

I held my breath and hoped he wasn't a clergyman in training, pouring beer to pay his way through seminary.

He wasn't.


Seconds after I snapped this shot of Olga, a good looking Brit came up to me and asked, "What in the bloody hell is that?"

"Olga," I replied.

Like, Duh.

He still looked blank, so I explained the Olga phenomenon and before I could even finish, he was dragging me over to a crowded corner of the pub.

"That's fuckin' brilliant!" he exclaimed. "You have to meet my mates. We're all teachers here having a drink before we go home."

Olga pretty much jumped into his arms, stoked to meet new friends and have more photos taken.

She didn't look like she minded at all as she was used to tie up this poor, unsuspecting grade school teacher...


The men couldn't keep their hands off Olga. Who could blame them? Here she proves she's made for a woman, but strong enough to support a man...


And you thought I was kidding when I said she was a handful....


Teachers, and bras, Oh My!


I totally wished we had more time to spend with these people. They were fucking hysterical. Seriously. I thought *I* was a smart ass...Olga was refusing to unlatch herself from the cute gentleman who was wearing her.

He got ZERO help from his women friends...in fact, one of the women said, "And here you're always bragging about how quickly you can get those off!"

"Of OTHER people, not myself!" He muttered.

Still no help from the women. They were too busy pointing and laughing.

Thank heaven for "good mates"....


Having had enough fun for one night, Olga bid her new pals good night and joined us at home for some R&R.

Up bright and early the following day, Olga was ready to leave her mark on London - but only after calling home first. She may be a party animal, but family comes first.


Olga's next request was a bit harder to fulfill.

I have plenty of connections, but tea with the Queen was going to be hard to deliver.

I mean, perhaps if I had a bit more notice, I could have called in a favor.

Olga had to settle for a drive by of Buckingham Palace...and trust me...Apes and I risked life and tit to get this shot. We were on a tour bus and a gazillion other tourists were trying to get the same shot - WITHOUT Olga. Which was hard to do since we were in the way...


Next stop was Trafalgar Square.

It was absolutely freezing out and I worried that Olga might catch a chill, or get all nipply, but she insisted on seeing this landmark for herself.

Malinda and I quickly held her up, in front of gawking tourists (whom she paid no mind), and got this shot:


We should have known better. The INSTANT she saw people climbing atop the lion statues in the middle of the square, she was adamant about going up.

I told her she would have to work something out with April as my ass was not about to hurl itself up on a statue that was throwing other tourists off left and right. One out of every 25 attempts appeared to end in success.

April, never one to back away from a challenge, accepted the mission.

Until she actually stood beside the lion and witnessed just how difficult it might prove to be.

She did, however, help a very good looking guy get up on the statue by giving him a butt-shove after he ran and jumped as high as he could.

SUCCESS!

"Give him Olga, Give him Olga!" Malinda and I yelled.

April threw Olga up to the momentarily confused lion conqueror - who quickly became the very AMUSED Olga admirer.

He gave us, what I think, is the best shot of our entire trip:


And that, my friends, was only day two of our vacation.

Our adventures with Lisa and That Guy in Paris are up next!