heidikins.com » Bloggy McBloggerson

Blog Share 2011 (Round Two)

heidikins — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 11:29:14 +0000

It’s that time of year again, the time when -R- organizes the Great Blog Share. Today’s post was not written by me, it was written by Anonymous, everyone say hello. Hi, Anonymous. The great thing about Blog Share is you get to read some incredible, raw, uncensored posts written under the cover of anonymity. If you’ve been blogging for very long you’ll realize what a sweet, sweet mask anonymous posting can be–you can talk about ANYTHING without worrying you are going to offend your friends, or upset your family, or really, really piss off that one blog stalker/lurker who thinks he/she is hiding (I see your IP address, I am not as blonde as I look). My very own, somewhat raw, mostly uncensored post is out there somewhere today and it felt so good to finally get it off my chest. At any rate, I hope you a) enjoy this post, b) leave some comment love (be nice folks, Anonymous is a guest here), and c) check out some of the other sites hosting Blog Share today, see the end of the post for a list of participating blogs.

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So the thing of it is, my little sister and I, we both hooked up with the same guy.

Never in a million years would I ever have imagined that I’d be the kind of girl who could say that, but there it is. She hooked up with him first, and then me. I have a very slanted way of telling this story, but sometimes I wonder if that’s simply to justify the fact that I did, actually, kind of steal the dude away from her. (The way I tell it, she stole him from me.) Because I’m aware of my biased telling of the story, I’m going to tell it to you twice: first from her perspective, and next from mine.

HER STORY

The summer after my sophomore year of college, my older sister invited me to work at the YMCA camp where she worked year round. They were looking for more camp counselors, and she knew my only other option was to go back home and hang out with our incredibly religious, strict, and boring parents. I knew that, too, and so I decided to go.

I showed up for staff training and, single as I was, immediately began eyeballing the beef. I knew that my chance of having a fun fling this summer were great, as I was cute enough and there were lots of single men. Most of the men were foreign, and all of them were young and good-looking. One, in particular, caught my eye. He was muscled, tanned, a lifeguard with long curly blond hair that he kept back in a loose ponytail. He was also Australian, with the super hot accent to go with it. He was pretty well regarded as the hottest boy at camp, and so I resigned myself to ogling him from a distance and finding a more attainable dude. But at the very first party of the summer he sidled up to me and began to flirt like mad. The signals he was throwing down were undeniable, as was the fineness of his bod, and so I got bold and started flirting back. Insert copious amounts of alcohol and lots of prodding from the others in the group, and suddenly I found myself the number one rumor in the summer camp rumor mill.

The guy and I were hot and heavy for literally about three days, when he started inching uncomfortably away from me. After a day or two of him being a typical guy – going from hot hot hot to keeping me at arm’s leg for no apparent reason – Aussie boy took me out onto a porch swing and had a Talk. At the end of that convo, I knew our brief summer fling was going to be briefer than I’d thought. He apologized for, as he put it, making a mistake and leading me on, but he wanted us to just be friends. I hadn’t been in love with the guy (though that might have eventually come), and though I was disappointed, I was ok. It wasn’t, like, total heartbreak or anything. I was confused as to his quick change of mind, but still flattered that he’d ever been interested me in the first place.

A couple of days later, I figured out what prompted his change of mind. My sister had just dumped her incredibly mean and crappy boyfriend, and she was suddenly single. We all went out to a wings place one night, and Aussie boy just stared at her across the table. She stared back. It could not have been more obvious. She followed me into the bathroom at one point, and tried to talk to me about what was growing between them, but I brushed her off. When he’d been leaving me “just because,” it had felt a lot different. Now he was leaving me FOR MY SISTER. It stung.

It stung so badly that instead of hanging around all summer with my sister, I just pretty much avoided her. In one of my more mature moments, I wrote her a long note telling her to go ahead and seek her joy, that I wouldn’t stand in her way. But I didn’t feel mature much of the time. She and the Aussie-boy were oopy droopy goopy in love, and it honestly made me want to gag. Every time I saw them together, I thought about how he’d once been mine but had thrown me over for her in a hot minute. She tried to make it up to me for a while, and then got disgusted with my failure to be thrilled for their every happiness, and quit talking to me altogether.

We stayed distant until over a year later, when he left her in the lurch for a friend we both knew. It caused her so much pain, I couldn’t keep her cut off. He’d fooled me into thinking he was amazing – I understood that now he’d been fooling her, too, all along. It’s been years, and we never talk about him anymore. But it meant a lot to me when she promised, after the breakup, that she would never pick a boy over me again.

And she never has.

MY STORY

My boyfriend was a horrible person. We had a horrible relationship, one that involved lots of physical and emotional abuse. I hated every minute of the last few months I was with him. My boyfriend was not American, and I knew he’d be going back to his home country at the beginning of the summer, so my plan was to wait until then to break up with him. It would be more safe for me to wait.

In the meantime, I tried to avoid him. I was his boss, actually, and so I wrote our schedules so that we rarely had time off together. I had another employee who reported to me, a lovely Australian guy who I’d known for a couple of years and who was the best employee we had at the camp. I scheduled him to work with me as much as possible, and shoved my lazy boyfriend off on other people. I knew that unlike my boyfriend, the Aussie boy would do his work, and cheerfully, and that he was a gentleman who would never stick me with packing up supplies or cleaning up our class areas by myself.

We ended up working really well together. As I mentioned, I’d known him for years, and that whole time I’d had this terrible boyfriend and Aussie had had a stream of casual girlfriends, so we’d never looked at one another in a romantic way. But this springtime, while I was just trying to get through life with as few beatings as possible, I couldn’t help but contrast how my horrid boyfriend treated me against how lovely the Aussie behaved. Little by little, we became very close friends, still totally platonic. We would linger for a while after our work was done for the day, packing up slowly and talking – at first general small talk, but over time it became more and more personal. A few weeks before my boyfriend was due to leave the country, I confided in the Aussie about what I’d been going through with him, though I didn’t mention my plan to break up with him when he left. My Aussie friend’s reaction was (and remains, to this day) the best one I’ve ever gotten after admitting to someone that I’ve been abused. He was gentle, protective, offered help without judgment. I lost my heart. I was officially falling in love.

The Aussie was falling, too, I could tell, but it was tricky. I didn’t want to start our relationship while I was still in another one. Even though in my heart I’d left the bad boyfriend long ago, I was still technically exclusively dating him. He was an ass, but I didn’t want to cheat on him, and the Aussie didn’t want to be part of a cheating situation. So we stayed just friends as the clock ticked down til the boyfriend would take flight.

A few weeks before I would put that ass on a plane, my sister arrived. She went to a party that the Aussie also attended, one that I didn’t go to because my controlling boyfriend wouldn’t permit me. The Friday night party turned into a whole weekend away, and when they came back to camp on Sunday evening, I learned for the first time that they were an item. I wept in my room. I’d been mistaken. He wasn’t falling for me like I was for him. I’d imagined it all, having been, after the bad boyfriend’s cruel treatment, so desperate to have a man be kind to me. My heart broke in a million pieces, and I suddenly felt tremendously weary and hopeless.

A few days later, with my boyfriend due to leave town in just a week, the Aussie ended things with my sister. She told me about it. I patted her hand, and felt guilty as my heart leaped in hope. Maybe . . . maybe . . . I resolved not to date him anyway, even if he did come calling. I wouldn’t do that to my sister.

Hos before bros.

Ah, but then after I put my boyfriend on the plane, and called the jerk just as soon as he arrived at home to break up with him, and after he threatened and screamed and hollered and railed at me over the phone, and I was simultaneously thrilled to be free and exhausted from the phone call and trying to process it all – well, the only one I could even imagine talking to about it all was the man who had slowly become my best friend. The Aussie. I caught him on a porch swing, and sat several chaste inches away, telling my story. He listened. He was awesome. And then, testing the waters a bit, I teased him about his fling with my sister. He looked stricken, and then said the words I’d been hoping to hear: “I never thought you’d leave him, and so I thought maybe I could still have you a little bit, by having your sister. It was so stupid. I was so drunk. I’ll forever be sorry.” I flew those few inches across the porch swing and into his arms. My feet wouldn’t touch the ground again for a whole year.

Our relationship was immediate, all encompassing, dizzying. I could barely get through the days, I was in such a fog of love. My resolve to put hos before bros burned up in the inferno that was this love affair. I made a few half-hearted attempts to patch things up with my sister, but I just hoped she could see what everyone else saw, commented on constantly – that we had some freaky electric connection, an unbreakable bond, that we were already the strongest couple any of them had ever known. Looking back, I still remember it as this heady period of joy, of relief from escaping from dark, painful days into this brilliant sunshine of this boy’s love. His nickname was Sunshine, actually.

We lasted well over a year before things fell apart. I barely talked to my sister during that year, but after he left me for a mutual friend in a betrayal that was as all-encompassingly painful as our beginning had been joyful, my sister suddenly popped up again, supportive and awesome. With him gone, all was forgiven. I wasn’t sure, and I’m still not, about whether or not what I’d done had been wrong and I’d gotten what I deserved after being so careless of my sister’s feelings. It’s a love affair I’m very glad I experienced, even though it all went pear shaped in the end. I’m also very glad that I didn’t have to lose my sister forever in order to experience it.

In any case, both of us are married to different people now. We g chat every day, and call several times a week. I haven’t heard from the Aussie in years, and I’d guess that she hasn’t either. Hos before bros.

Better late than never.

* * * * *

Andrea Unplugged
And You Know What Else
April On Ashley
Barfing Rainbows and Unicorns
Bright Yellow World
Did I Say That Outloud?
Drifts Get Deeper
Malfeasance
Mama Bub
Nonsense and Frippery
Nothing Is Easier Than Self-Deceit
Operation Pink Herring
Our Little Geekling
Snarke
The Reluctant Grownup
Together They Come

Unabashed

heidikins — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 11:38:57 +0000

Surprise! It’s “Interview A Blogger” Day! I bet you didn’t even know this day was on the Gregorian calendar, let alone observed by yours truly, did you?. It’s okay, I kind of made it up. But people make up holidays all the time, right? It doesn’t make it any less valid. Will you all please quiet down, take a seat and pull out your notebooks/iDevices? So thank you.

Have you seen those Question/Answer posts prancing around the Interwebs? A blogger cutely asks readers to ask her any question they like and then over a few posts she answers them in full paragraphs with funny stories and witty anecdotes? Usually she’ll include an awesome photo of a landscape, or a baby animal, or an artistic macro shot as bait for the queried goods. But as I have spent the last several weeks of posts pimping out my pics (yep, doing it again, this time with onomatopoeia), you’ll have to settle for this adorable, heisted photo of a baby sloth instead.

{Image Source}

This makes you want to participate in my little, Interview Me! game, right? No? What? But I gave you a picture of a baby sloth! You’re supposed to say “YES!” to the baby sloth? It was a calculated move to incite warm fuzzies and positive responses! Look again at those soft, brown eyes, that pettable fur, that one, curling claw; then look deep into your heart, surely you have a moment to spare, right? Yes? Oh goody. (I love baby sloths!)

I have always loved those mini-series posts of questions and answers full of all sorts of new and fascinating tidbits. I usually assumed the blogger being questioned was hosting such an information party because she magnanimously wanted her readers to get the ~~dirt~~ scoop on her real life. Um….that may be true; and if you have done such a mini series in your blog then it was most definitely true for you. You are magnanimous and thoughtful and a writer worthy of the Pulitzer. And did I mention you’re also pretty?

However, I am launching into this for a completely different reason. I am stumped. Blocked. Running on Idea Empty. It seems that the unbloggable things in my life are taking over and I need SOMETHING to write about to keep me sane. “Unbloggable” covers both the personal stories of my nearest and dearest, as well as those topics upon which I am incapable of writing and just end up ranting, an exercise that doesn’t do me any good but just makes me more frustrated with my boobs/doctors/annoying people/school/homework/whatever. Here I am, on my knees, armed with nothing but a snuggly baby sloth, asking you to PLEASE ask me some questions. Any question. I will do my best to answer them in a funny, witty manner, edited for snark and sass. That is, edited to include both snark and sass because I am nothing if I cannot be snarky and sassy.

Dear readers, now is your chance. Let the questioning commence! You can ask me anything, realistic or not, and I pinky promise to answer either in a forthcoming blog post, in an email, or by hiring a small plane to sky-write it over your house.

Want to know where rainbows go when they hit the earth or what really happened to the dinosaurs? Leave it in the comments.

Do you want to know my favorite book? Or rather, my top 5 favorites as I can never in a million years narrow it down to just ONE title? Type it up, submit.

Would you like to see me attempt to solve complex math equations? Submit your question, send supporting pics or documents if necessary. (Note: this question will be answered last as I have to take a lengthy break to laugh my face off at the thought that someone thinks I can solve complex equations. Dwarfs, time machines or other magical devices will definitely be included in this answer.)

Do you simply want to state that this post confirms your belief that I really am the self-centered, blathering bimbo you always suspected and I am naive in assuming The Interwebs actually cares to know any more drivel about my life? Comment box is wide open and empty. It’s okay, I won’t be offended, I have my opinions on you too.

Limber up those interrogatory fingers and let the questions fly! Post them here or you can email me.

Come on, question me! IT’S A BABY SLOTH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! You can’t say “No” to the sloth!

So you’d like to get a tour of Salt Lake City?

heidikins — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 17:28:17 +0000

It’s time for me to write a bonafide guidebook for Salt Lake. I’m not saying that I know the most or even the most unique things about my hometown, but as of late I have had the opportunity to show several people around this big, Little City, and I have kind of fallen in-love with Salt Lake all over again. (Don’t worry, a page of recommendations in Utah from shopping to eating to hiking to touring is in the works.)

Several years ago I gave a mini tour to OPH and another to Hola, Isabel while they had, respectively, a work trip and an extended layover in Salt Lake. When Janssen wanted to tour the Salt Lake library, I jumped at the chance to go with her. This started what has turned into a bit of an obsession with showing off my town.

A few months ago, Kristin spent a few days in Salt Lake on her several weeks-long road trip around the western United States before heading to southern Utah. I loved giving Kristin and her charming husband, SVV, a mini-tour around downtown Salt Lake.

When RA came to Salt Lake for a work trip she had exactly 3 hours to see Salt Lake. I hauled her up a mountain and gave her a whirlwind tour of Temple Square. I wished I’d had more time to show off my town, but under the circumstances I was just thrilled to be able to show her around a bit.

A few weeks ago, I got another chance to strap on my Tour Guide boots and show off downtown Salt Lake City. Jessica from What I Wore spent a lovely few weeks exploring the Wild, Wild West (my affectionate term for Utah, Wyoming, Montana, and Colorado) and had only one morning in Salt Lake. I volunteered to show her and her husband around Temple Square for an hour and give her more historic and architectural details than she could ever be able to digest and remember.

Oh, and What I Wore is a daily fashion blog. Not only am I explaining some of the more intricate, delicate and sometimes seemingly “peculiar” aspects of Salt Lake City and her residents–aspects that are very near and dear to me–in a way that can be easily understood and remembered, but I also needed to look cute. No pressure, Heidi. None at all.

Gulp.

My fretting was for naught, like all the bloggers that came before her–OPH, Isabel, Janssen, RA and Kristin–Jessica was perfectly nice, charming, and receptive to everything I had to say. I told her about why Salt Lake City’s streets are so wide (founder Brigham Young wanted them wide enough that a team of oxen and a covered wagon could make a full circle. Yes, folks, pioneer U-turns are the reason for our spacious streets and enormous city blocks, 7 to a mile) and about some of architectural details on Temple Square, and about why there were so many people in suits and dresses milling about on a Saturday morning. I probably gave her information overload, but hey, sometimes that’s just what happens when you give me an hour or two to fill you in on all the details of my hometown.

Overall, it was a lovely morning, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. So, if any of you are planning a visit to Salt Lake, let me know and I’ll show you around on the almost official Heidikins Tour.

**Photo courtesy of Jessica from What I Wore.

Kennett Square, a Mushroom Festival, and good friends

heidikins — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 12:15:02 +0000

Ten years ago, if you had told me that I would voluntarily purchase a ticket, board a plane and fly across the country to spend the weekend with a couple of lovely ladies I had met online I would have laughed in your face. Even five years ago I probably would have balked at this concept. But, as Laurel, RA and I sat around talking about books and relationships and life it became very apparent to me that these two women are my kind of people. During my stay, Laurel returned a book she had borrowed from RA, the same book I had finished reading on the plane to Philadelphia. Throughout the weekend we ate some great food, had some wonderful conversations, a lot of laughs and overall a fantastic time. RA has already blogged about it (because, unlike me, she is on top of blogging), and she captured most of the best moments, the funny things that were said, and the great conversations.

On Sunday, Laurel and I drove out to Kennett Square for the much-touted Mushroom Festival. Laurel obliged me with a quick detour through Delaware so I could buy a postcard and check it off my list of states I had visited. After a little winding through the Pennsylvania countryside, Laurel and I arrive in Kennett and the Mushroominess began!

We wandered through the throngs of people, peeked into some standard fair booths and many that were a lot more mushroom-specific. A quick stop at the famous Guapos taco truck for a little Mexican food.

I got some kind of corn soup thing, and it was the right amount of flavor and spice and extra deliciousness.

Laurel and RA both got the taco’s and absolutely raved about them.

Up next was the deep-fried, breaded mushrooms with a ranch-y sauce. These were my favorite from the entire festival (and frankly, rival the deep-fried Oreo’s from the Utah State Fair), they were so hot they burned your tongue and we stood around blowing on them to cool them off.

Inside the mushroom tent there were several crates of mushrooms in various stages of growth. There was a large growing box of white, button mushrooms. Passersby would pick one, they’d trim the end and hand it over, it was the most delicious mushroom I’ve ever tasted. I swear, if all mushrooms tasted like that I’d live on a diet of pure mushroom goodness. A bit more wandering, a bit more tasting, a lot more conversation, and it was time for me to get to the airport.

This weekend was one I won’t shortly forget. I loved seeing RA and Laurel again. I’d met Laurel a few years ago while she was living in New York City, and a month earlier I’d forced RA up the side of a mountain in Salt Lake City. The thing is, these ladies are real friends, the kind I feel lucky to have. Thank heavens for bloggy-land and her wonderful citizens. I cheered for Laurel as she launched a giant project last week, and I cried when I read about RA losing Mimi.

My “invisible friends”, the ones who live mostly inside my computer have become dear to me, they–you–are a huge part of my life, the weight-bearing columns of my support system, and the people who cheer me on. You, dear people, are amazing and I feel lucky to count you as friends.

Now, who else either a) needs a visit or b) would like to come to Salt Lake? We tout the best snow on earth (and it is already piling up at the ski resorts), anyone fancy a ski trip?

Piano Across America

heidikins — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 00:50:36 +0000

Last week I experienced first hand one of the awesome things about People On The Internet. See, my friend Mona had a link as her gchat status for Piano Across America, the website of 24-year old Dotan Negrin. Mona heard about him from a local news program while she was in Montana last week. Dotan has spent the last 4 months dragging an upright piano around the country, playing on street corners and at national landmarks with his adorable dog Brando. So far Dotan has traveled from New York south down the East coast, from Florida to California, up to Seattle and is now on his way south and east, back home to New York.

I clicked around his site for a while, watching a few of the videos and admiring his musical talent.

I liked his page on Facebook and an hour or two later I went to lunch.

As I was walking out of my building I heard piano music, good piano music.

Yep, Mr. Piano Across America himself, right there on my street. I sat and listened for a while, walked down the block, got my lunch to go and came back and listened to Dotan for the next 45 minutes. I gave bits of bread to his dog and asked him about his travels. I love what he’s doing, he doesn’t have sponsors or expert marketers. He’s just a guy in love with music who wants to share it.

Go on, check out his website. Like him on Facebook. And if you happen to see a guy playing a map-wearing piano, stop and listen. Say hi to Dotan, pet Brando, and let him in on the coolest places you can think of for him to play. I am hoping he takes a little detour back west to play on the Salt Flats, but then again, I’m particularly biased about the flats.

**I don’t usually post twice per day, but this amazing coincidence needed to be shared immediately. The Internet? It’s awesome.

Update: News blurb about Dotan and Piano Across America

Blog Share 2011 (Round One)

heidikins — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 12:14:52 +0000

The following post was not written by me. -R- from And You Know What Else has put together a fantastic anonymous posting posse. Twenty bloggers have swapped posts for the day. It’s amazing what happens when one is given the opportunity and anonymity to post about all those things that are unbloggable on our own domains. My anonymous post is floating around the Interwebs somewhere, and I am hosting my own Anony-poster here today.

When I saw this Blog Share idea by R over at And You Know What Else I was really excited to give it a try. There have been a few things I wanted to blog about but just wasn’t brave enough to post them to my own. So here’s my story, something I’ve wanted to get off my chest for a while. Thanks for the opportunity.

W and I had been dating for 3.5 years. We had lived together for 3 of that. We got along well, we had our little lives together. I thought this was my happily ever after. One week before my birthday last year 6 little words sent my world crashing in on me. “I think we should break up”. Where did this come from?! I went through all the stages of grief in about 10 seconds flat. I was shocked and in denial – this isn’t really happening I thought to myself. We’ll get through this, he’s just having a bad week. I began bargaining “No, please don’t leave me”. “What will I do?” But it was useless. “It’s really nothing you did, I’m just not happy and don’t want to bring you down with me” This is the only reasoning I could get from him. It made no sense to me. He moved into the guest room for the next 10 days. We both cried that first night.

The next day brought something I had not expected at all. The strongest sexual tension I had ever felt had popped up overnight. We discussed it and decided why not, we had always been sexually compatible. Ground rules were set and we proceeded to have some of the best sex we had all year. Every day until he moved out we could be found in the bedroom. After he moved out we continued to hang out and sleep together. Random weeknight texts led to 35 minute drives to get the deed done. It was like fueling an addiction. We started trying new things and finding ourselves even more in-tune with each other. But, things were starting to change.

Three months later I got a text message from a friend of a friend asking me out on a date. I was riding the bus home and tried to hide the tears as I sat staring at my phone. I wasn’t over W yet. I never thought myself a very good actor but I was there for a while. When I was with W it was the casual friendship with benefits like we had discusses. Secretly I was still at home crying most nights, losing sleep, not eating, shutting myself away from the world. This thing was taking me down. I accepted the offer from the friend of a friend and we met for a casual movie at his place. I went on dates with B for about 3 months. We got along pretty well, we liked hanging out and going out but I just wasn’t feeling the spark with him. I was still in love with W. In all fairness B was aware of this. I’ve always believed in being upfront and honest with people so I made sure he knew where I was at. That I wasn’t looking for something serious. Then B told me he loved me. The moment the words left his mouth I dropped my head and said “no”. I wasn’t ready for this. A few weeks later this finally led to the end of B and I “dating”. He wanted to marry me, have a house, dogs, kids…it was all just way too much for me. I still loved W.

Then completely out of the blue one day I went to a haunted house with a new friend of mine, C. We got along great. We started hanging out a lot. She introduced me to a lot of her friends. I would stay out with her until 3am when I had to get up at 5am. Then we planned a trip to Vegas together. I hadn’t really thought too much about things to this point. She had told me she was gay and she kept introducing me to everyone as her straight friend (though apparently everyone could tell that the way I looked at her was different). We decided on a spur of the moment trip to Vegas and the Grand Canyon over Halloween. In Vegas we shared our first kiss and decided to try dating. Then we drove off to the Grand Canyon and started a quick adventure. About a month and a half later she broke my heart. Somewhere along the way I had lost most of the feelings for W. I would still always care for him but I wasn’t “In love” any more. I thought I was in love with C, but something just wasn’t right between us.

I decided then to swear off dating in all forms. I went back to my comfort zone of W. We would see movies every weekend and continued to have an amazing sex life. I started hanging out with my own friends more and was starting to develop myself again. I realized that being with W I had lost a part of myself. It was so freeing to get this back. I guess the world picked up on my new attitude because I was being asked out right and left. I decided why not and accepted some dates. Some were good, some were bad. I got to know more about a friend of mine for 10 years. I had a first (and last) date with a convicted felon. I was having fun. Enjoying whatever life was bringing to me.

Then D asked me out one night. D and I had gone on a date 6 months prior but nothing had come from it. We talked occasionally on Facebook. He convinced me to join the local symphony that he was part of when it started up this year. I had missed playing so I decided to go for it. I had been neglecting my hobbies for far too long. A new spark seemed to pop up between us that wasn’t there on our first date. Something felt more right about him. Something that was missing with B and C. Things seem to mesh so well. We’re still in the early phase so I regret that I cannot inform you of where it has gone yet. I’m still dating a couple other people, but it’s very safe to say that D holds the major share of my attention. I’m not sure where it all will go but I do know one thing: I’m back. I’m happy. I’m confident. I’m doing things that make me happy. I’m surrounded by people I love and that care for me. Yes, W and I are still friends. Just a few days ago he told me he was going to back off from our physical side so I could pursue things with D. This really is such a great credit to the amazing person he is that most people don’t get to see.

I’m so much happier in my life now than I was just a mere year ago. I feel like I’ve grown so much and though the road was quite long and hard I’m so thankful for it. Thank you for letting me share this journey with you.

All Blog Share Participants:

The Time for Change
Bright Yellow World
Reflections in the Snow-Covered Hills
Totally Serial
Daily Tannenbaum
Andrea Unplugged
Malfeasance
From Kim’s Desk
Rediscovering Me
Mama Bub
Being Five
Nothing Is Easier Than Self-Deceit
Molly’s Musings
Heidikins
Snarke
Did I Say That Outloud?
The Reluctant Grownup
And You Know What Else
Bwildered
Thinking Some More

Creaky Gears and Dusty Ideas

heidikins — Mon, 25 Oct 2010 13:20:37 +0000

On days when the sky is overcast and it’s raining and cold there are a few things that always sound delicious; soup and hot chocolate, reading a book snuggled in blankets, watching your favorite movie, talking to your best friend. These “comfort activities” are particularly inviting when it’s kind of dismal outside.

This weekend was kind of dismal. The weather was bad, I had a ton of errands to run and no time for snuggling or movies. Also, a boy didn’t call/text me back and I really thought he would…you know how it goes. There are so many things going right–I mentioned several here–but everything is not rainbows and unicorns and good times. I am trying not to dwell on the negative stuff, because it’s a slippery slope on a twisty spiral that ends in bitterness, loneliness and 37 cats.

I don’t want to be bitter. I don’t want to be alone. And I’m allergic to cats, so those are out. I feel silly even mentioning all this here, especially after the “Life is Great! I’m Reinventing Myself!” post–but maybe this is indicative of that dance through life, “two steps forward, one step back.” I get tripped up on that move every time. But the truth is I have spent a long time neglecting this corner of the internet because I didn’t want to be Debbie Downer. The truth is it was a really difficult summer (which is easily explained by my posting only about vacations and absolutely nothing about anything else), and while fall is by no means easy, things are looking up. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write, I’ve forgotten how to spin a thought or experience into some kind of meaningful writing, whether funny or snarky or raw. I was talking to a good friend who I don’t see often, and she mentioned that she missed my writing. I miss my writing. I miss being able to organize my thoughts and emotions into neat little paragraphs and send them into the void.

I’ve never tried that oddly acronymed bloggy meme (that I can never properly remember) where you post every single day for a month, but I think I’m going to try it for November. I rarely post on weekends, but I think it will be good for me to write 5 posts per week, every week, for a month.

I think I’ll take this week as a warm-up for my atrophied bloggy za-za-zu. Perhaps this will help get me back on track with the whole Life Perspective thing (i.e. “just because he didn’t call/text doesn’t mean you’ll end up bitter and alone with 37 cats.”), and if not, hey, at least I’ll have my writing mojo back. *crosses fingers.

Guest Posting

heidikins — Fri, 06 Aug 2010 15:04:24 +0000

Hi, I’m not here today. I’m studying for my last final of the semester, which my ridiculously square professor has scheduled for Friday night, 6-8pm. I’ve never even HAD class on Friday! Not that I’m bitter or anything, but, well, I’m bitter. I tell you, this is not the way to start a weekend.

I could fill your heads with promises of regular posting for the next little while, now that the semester is over and I (hypothetically) have time to breathe…but instead I will direct you to Cheeky Monkey, where I have taken over her lovely, European blog with tales of whether or not I prefer to be naked. Yep, I said it.

Washington, DC: The People

heidikins — Sun, 30 May 2010 23:06:02 +0000

This is my 700th post on this little ‘ole blog. Seven hundred little pieces of my brain/heart/soul are now flouncing about The Internet. Sometimes it makes me a little queasy to think about. Most of the time it gives me happy butterflies in my stomach. In the last several years I have become a better writer, have honed the ability to think outside the box, and have increased my vocabulary–both legit and acronym-ed and have begun to at least contemplate my skills as a very amateur photographer. I attribute these directly to blogging. That is all lovely and all, but the biggest benefit of this little Blogging Experiment has been the relationships I have developed with so many wonderful people around the world.

I started reading Janet’s blog before I started blogging…mostly because as the Queen of Love Is Blonde she had the URL I wanted. Initially, I was bugged that someone had already stolen my idea, but after reading her for, oh, 3 minutes, I quickly decided she was lovely and absolutely the best owner of that particular site. Over the years we’ve exchanged dozens of emails and comments and I think she knows more about me than many of my “real life” friends. It was absolutely delightful to finally be able to meet her. And who knew, but we could probably pass as sisters most of the time.

We chatted about families, friends, boys, relationships, and how the mountains in The West are far superior to any others. It was just like meeting any girlfriend for lunch. Goodness, she is delightful!

I have also been reading Mel‘s blog–full of book reviews, art, recipe’s and her travel adventures–for a few years now and we have exchanged vents and complaints on boys for ages now. Mel showed me around Georgetown and where one should go for the best cupcakes.

I am well aware that I have been woefully absent from my little corner of the Internet the last several weeks. For heaven’s sake, I’ve been back from Washington DC for a month (with two other trips in the meantime) and I still haven’t finished blogging all my adventures! Here’s the thing, lately I have felt frightfully censored. Some of my “real life” friends have been reading far too much into my writing, and others have passed my blog address to people I’d rather not read my inner thoughts. There is drama all over the place and I feel like I can’t talk about anything important, and I don’t want to talk about fluff.

I made a resolve today. I will not let my audience, or potential audience, have such a say in my writing. I will not be mean-spirited or cruel, but I will be honest. And if you (you know who you are) don’t like it, don’t agree, or are otherwise offended, you can just go ahead and close this window, delete me from your feed and let me be. Alrighty? Alrighty.

That being said, please anticipate a rash of updates, I need to churn out the rest of my Washington DC thoughts, whirl through a lovely weekend in San Francisco, and at least touch on a windy-but-otherwise-relaxing weekend in Utah’s Red Rock Country. You’ve been warned.

Blog Share 2010

heidikins — Mon, 24 May 2010 05:32:20 +0000

The following is not written by me. It’s by Anonymous. Today is the First Great Blog Share of 2010; participants have sent the delightful host, Abbersnail, the ranting and venting they cannot publish on their own blogs and she has distributed it to bloggy safe-havens. My rant is somewhere out there under another the (ubiquitous) pseudonym Anonymous. The list of all participating blogs is at the end of this post, go forth and read the honest, the real, the heartbreaking, the awesome. And please leave your resident Anonymous poster a little comment love.

—-

I am quitting my job. For real this time.

I’ve said it many times before. I even had something approaching a plan last summer, but a friend and co-worker talked me out of it. Her reasoning went like this: “You can tell the boss that you’re unhappy, and maybe she’ll fix it. Or you can quit, and you’ll have to tell the boss anyway.”

This was a very good point. I told the boss.

The person in charge of my department is an amazing woman. I adore her and will remain very loyal to her even after I’m gone. I cried when I told her I was unhappy. I couldn’t believe it when she said she would fix the problem.

I went back to the three people who’d offered me jobs, and I told them that I was staying in my current position. I believed then, and I still believe, that if your boss tells you not to go because the problem is fixable, you owe it to your boss to stick around to see if it really can be fixed.

It turns out that the problem is not fixable, because I am part of the problem. I’m not going to get into the details, because that’s all you really need to know. If I did not react the way I do, there would be no problem at all. A stronger person than I would not be looking for work.

So here I am, looking for work and considering how to tell the boss, the truly lovely woman I am very loyal to. I have the beginnings of a plan. It involves taking a vacation this summer that is timed perfectly so that I can leave my job, have a real holiday, and come back to the new job. Somehow I doubt it will all work out quite so well. But it’s nice to imagine.

I made the decision to leave in a heartbeat on Thursday, April 29. I left a meeting, and I was angry. Even a few days later, I did not remember what I was angry about. I suppose that’s very telling. Anyway, I was angry, and ranting to myself, and by chance, inside my head, I said seven little words: “I thought things would be better when — “.

And I stopped.

And I realized that I have said those words to myself before. Time after time, I have reassured myself that things would be better at some point in the future. I always had a date in mind. And when that date came, and things were not better, I would adjust the timeline and tell myself that things would be better on another date in the future. But things don’t change, even when the calendar does, because I am part of the problem.

It takes much longer to explain it than it actually took to happen. Inside my head, it went like this: “I thought things would be better when — oh.” And it was done. I made up my mind in that moment that I was leaving. And, just like that, the problem no longer bothered me. It is over.

I am very sad to think about leaving all of the wonderful people who have made my working experience so great over the past few years. But it is a huge relief to know that I am leaving.

—-

For the rest of the blog share entries, please see the list below:

A Little Coffee
With My Cream and Sugar
And You Know
What Else
Another Bloody Mary
Bright Yellow World
Cake or Death
Dispatches from
the Failed Mommies Club
Feel Me Don’t You
Heidikins
Hot
Chicks Dig Smart Men
Kirida
Malfeasance
My 33 People
Nothing Is Easier Than Self-Deceit
Postcards from Inania
Rediscovering Me
Snow
Covered Hills
Tales of a
tree-hugging 2L
The Gay
White North
The Little Goat
The Opposite
of Classy