Dear People at Sky Beam,
If there was something the opposite of a sponsored post this would be it. Simply put, you suck.
You suck in the way that stepping barefoot in dog shit sucks. You suck in the way that bouncing a check sucks. You suck like a harsh hangover and thoughtlessly placed hickey suck. You suck like losing your only set of keys in the snow sucks. I think you see where I'm going here.
Your bandwidth is fully insufficient in the Western Colorado region. You know this because nearly everybody over here who is forced to use your slack-ass company calls on a monthly basis and tells you about this issue. You will usually give us $5 off our monthly bill and promise things will get better, perhaps some sort of tower will go up over here....
You have yet to deliver on any of your poorly expressed intentions of improving our service. Is it that you believe we here in the mountains are used to slowness and can be set aside? Or maybe you think if you keep ignoring us we'll just go away? Or maybe you assume we are all out hunting prairie dogs? None of the above are the case. We are pissed. Pissed in a way that makes us want to trudge over the Divide, find your offices and leave bodily fluids upon your desks to soak into your keyboards. then your computers won't work and you'll be screwed. Sort of like us on a daily basis.
Sky beam, if I were a super hero my Super Twin powers would be all about covering you in an icy waterfall cast. Were I a comet I'd be sure to land my flame kissed ass upon your buildings. If I could be a predatory animal, I'd be the lion and you a baby gazelle separated from your herd. Me a super virus? You an old lady with a weak immune system. And lastly, if I happened to be a big, ole gross booger? You'd totally be my wiping spot. Yup. That's just how much I am unhappy with your sloppy service and lack of caring.
Love and kisses,
Heather
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Cherish
Over the weekend Matt, the children and I are made the trek to Provo for his father's funeral service. The drive was long, as always, and hot. The visit was hectic and tense with all the issues surrounding a death.
There is so much that could be said, but I won't because there isn't really any point. But I will say this, if you've got something of meaning to say to the people you love, fucking-A just do it. Don't wait around and have people do it for you after you're gone. Life is short, the after time an unknown. What we have here and now is tangible and real. Not telling those close to you how you feel is a pussy ass way out of things. It does them no favors to yearn for affirmation, only to hear it from other people after the fact.
I'm going to take this to heart for myself as well. I'm going to let the people I love know how I feel and never have to question it.
There is so much that could be said, but I won't because there isn't really any point. But I will say this, if you've got something of meaning to say to the people you love, fucking-A just do it. Don't wait around and have people do it for you after you're gone. Life is short, the after time an unknown. What we have here and now is tangible and real. Not telling those close to you how you feel is a pussy ass way out of things. It does them no favors to yearn for affirmation, only to hear it from other people after the fact.
I'm going to take this to heart for myself as well. I'm going to let the people I love know how I feel and never have to question it.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
The text bump
About 10 days ago one of my most favoritest people in the whole wide world got married to her long time man love. Kelly Lynne and The Bird have been together for about ten years. They have an adorable four year-old boy, John-Kelly. They are devoted to each other and so sometime last winter-ish, he popped the question, presented the ring and she accepted. The pair happens to reside in the Deep South of Mississippi where remaining unmarried and living next door to one another becomes a bit odd once you've bred a wee child, but a Southern to-do can quickly become a TO-DO so they traveled to the Colorado mountains to escape the heat and get hitched.
Somewhere around Christmas, Kelly Lynne asked me to be her maid of honor. She said it was to be a simple affair, as she is a gal of few needs and streamlined tastes. In my head I wondered why she would ask me of all people to do this job, I suck at weddings, they make me itch. She might have sensed my fear over the phone because she said something along the lines, "It's my wedding, I need you." Can't turn down that sort of thing so I said I'd be honored and then promptly forgot about my duties. I am really cool like that.
Every now and then the subject would arise, we'd chat about why the term simple wedding is an oxy-moron and then I would again put it all out of my mind. It's not that I was ignoring the gloriousness of these two people committing to one another for life, I totally dig it for them. The winter was a crazy busy one and wedding details don't lodge themselves in my brain.
A couple of weeks ago Kelly and her crew arrived in town to prepare for the big weekend. I was to have corsages ready, accompany Kelly for her nails and hair, help her get dressed, just generally be there for her and support her on her big day. While I was getting a spray tan, a coincidence not a preparation for the nuptials, I got a text: Hey, I know you're dealing Matt's dad (he had passed away the morning before her arrival) so you can be off the hook for this weekend. I think we are good and we don't need to add stress to your week.
I read the message over a couple of times before it hit me. I was being bumped. By text. Really? Who does that? So I wrote back: You're totally bumping me.
She replied: I totally am. But honestly it is fine.
Me: You're bumping me. In a text. I'm totally gonna blog about this, you know.
The next day Devon and I made it to the reception. I had a hard time getting out of my bathroom and to the party. Devon had a hard time transitioning from the sidewalk to the actual party. We both calmed down, tried to act like normal, well adjusted humans and then we spent a couple of hours blending. It was a lovely affair, Kelly and Jay were radiant.
Later Kelly texted me: You know no matter what, no matter the circumstance, you will always be my BFF. You were here in spirit.
And that's one of the reasons we have remained friends through 24 years. When you can realize your maid of honor is going to drop the ball and then you accept it and text her all in one? And in turn she can get the text and be at peace with it? That's what it's all about.
Somewhere around Christmas, Kelly Lynne asked me to be her maid of honor. She said it was to be a simple affair, as she is a gal of few needs and streamlined tastes. In my head I wondered why she would ask me of all people to do this job, I suck at weddings, they make me itch. She might have sensed my fear over the phone because she said something along the lines, "It's my wedding, I need you." Can't turn down that sort of thing so I said I'd be honored and then promptly forgot about my duties. I am really cool like that.
Every now and then the subject would arise, we'd chat about why the term simple wedding is an oxy-moron and then I would again put it all out of my mind. It's not that I was ignoring the gloriousness of these two people committing to one another for life, I totally dig it for them. The winter was a crazy busy one and wedding details don't lodge themselves in my brain.
A couple of weeks ago Kelly and her crew arrived in town to prepare for the big weekend. I was to have corsages ready, accompany Kelly for her nails and hair, help her get dressed, just generally be there for her and support her on her big day. While I was getting a spray tan, a coincidence not a preparation for the nuptials, I got a text: Hey, I know you're dealing Matt's dad (he had passed away the morning before her arrival) so you can be off the hook for this weekend. I think we are good and we don't need to add stress to your week.
I read the message over a couple of times before it hit me. I was being bumped. By text. Really? Who does that? So I wrote back: You're totally bumping me.
She replied: I totally am. But honestly it is fine.
Me: You're bumping me. In a text. I'm totally gonna blog about this, you know.
The next day Devon and I made it to the reception. I had a hard time getting out of my bathroom and to the party. Devon had a hard time transitioning from the sidewalk to the actual party. We both calmed down, tried to act like normal, well adjusted humans and then we spent a couple of hours blending. It was a lovely affair, Kelly and Jay were radiant.
Later Kelly texted me: You know no matter what, no matter the circumstance, you will always be my BFF. You were here in spirit.
And that's one of the reasons we have remained friends through 24 years. When you can realize your maid of honor is going to drop the ball and then you accept it and text her all in one? And in turn she can get the text and be at peace with it? That's what it's all about.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Happy 18th, Lo-Lo!!!!
Sweetest Lo,
Holy moly, today you're 18! It makes me teary to even write that in words. I know you're not a reader of this so you might not ever find this letter, or the one I penned last year, but I'm a believer of the Universe and knowing the words are somewhere out there for you brings me comfort.
This year, Loren, has been one of challenges and extreme growth. The choices you made were sometimes hard, but I firmly believe they will make you strong and bring you satisfaction. There are very few of us who know our passions as early as you have discovered yours. Rarer still is the person whose passion matches their talents. You, my love, have both. You make beauty with your camera, you put it to music and bring alive a message of joy and excitement to everything you make. I know taking your talent and transitioning it from high school to the Great Beyond has scared you to your bones, but again I see you forming a path and I know it will take you to wonderful places. As I write this, I see what I'm saying is that I have total and absolute faith in you, Lo. I don't know too many things, but I do know you and I believe in everything you are.
In the eyes of our society you are now an adult. As a mother that is sort of a difficult concept to accept, for you will always be my baby, my first born, the one who started this whole amazing ride. As I fell asleep last night I recalled that very late night/early morning 18 years ago. After some un-Godly number of hours I held you in my arms as the nurses and doctors cleared all the equipment from the room. I was 22, scared and so ill prepared to deserve such a miracle snuggled in my arms. The thought that your father and I were going to be giving you a life put the fear of the world in me. So I did the only thing I knew, I held you closer and made a promise in your ear, "I'll always be here for you. No matter what, no matter where. I will do whatever it takes." It was true then, now and always.
I love you, Lo. You are the light in my soul. I am honored to be here for the ride.
Always,
Mom
Holy moly, today you're 18! It makes me teary to even write that in words. I know you're not a reader of this so you might not ever find this letter, or the one I penned last year, but I'm a believer of the Universe and knowing the words are somewhere out there for you brings me comfort.
This year, Loren, has been one of challenges and extreme growth. The choices you made were sometimes hard, but I firmly believe they will make you strong and bring you satisfaction. There are very few of us who know our passions as early as you have discovered yours. Rarer still is the person whose passion matches their talents. You, my love, have both. You make beauty with your camera, you put it to music and bring alive a message of joy and excitement to everything you make. I know taking your talent and transitioning it from high school to the Great Beyond has scared you to your bones, but again I see you forming a path and I know it will take you to wonderful places. As I write this, I see what I'm saying is that I have total and absolute faith in you, Lo. I don't know too many things, but I do know you and I believe in everything you are.
In the eyes of our society you are now an adult. As a mother that is sort of a difficult concept to accept, for you will always be my baby, my first born, the one who started this whole amazing ride. As I fell asleep last night I recalled that very late night/early morning 18 years ago. After some un-Godly number of hours I held you in my arms as the nurses and doctors cleared all the equipment from the room. I was 22, scared and so ill prepared to deserve such a miracle snuggled in my arms. The thought that your father and I were going to be giving you a life put the fear of the world in me. So I did the only thing I knew, I held you closer and made a promise in your ear, "I'll always be here for you. No matter what, no matter where. I will do whatever it takes." It was true then, now and always.
I love you, Lo. You are the light in my soul. I am honored to be here for the ride.
Always,
Mom
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
This is why
There are spans of time so maddeningly packed with details, schedules, minutia...lots and lots of crap, really.
This is one of them.
I feel as though I'm chasing after kite strings but am not so successful because I've lost all my toes in a freak knife throwing accident and am shoeless because now none of my shoes fit, plus I'm all tippy due to the no toe thing.
This is one of them.
I feel as though I'm chasing after kite strings but am not so successful because I've lost all my toes in a freak knife throwing accident and am shoeless because now none of my shoes fit, plus I'm all tippy due to the no toe thing.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Vampire tan
I hail from a line of pale folks. To say we are melanin-ly challenged might be an understatement. My line of people belongs back on the misty hills of Ireland where we would be shielded from the sun's cruelty by soft fog. When my father's people immigrated to the states, they chose New Orleans for their home. The air there is tender and the low lying land far from the ozone. Unfortunately, as young man, my grandfather's health was not stellar and when he had a TB scare the family packed him off to the sunny hills of Colorado so that his lungs could heal. They did. He met a wee, feisty Irish woman. They bred a gaggle of red headed spawn. They, in turn, produced my generation. I met a fellow with my same complexion. We bred a small brood. And so on....
As a teen I hated my pale skin and went to great lengths to alter my whiteness. Some of that foolishness I now pay for with annual visits to my dermatologist. The other attempts left orange splotches on my clothes and much mockery from my family. At some point, maybe after I had Loren, I grew comfy with my color and the coverage of capris. But, alas, sweet Cassidy has hit 14 and hates her paleness. I truly believe her freckles look stunning against the background of her light skin, but sister has taken to wearing long sleeved shirts in the heat of summer to hide her limbs. I can't have that. She is devoted to sunblock and was easily talked out of slathering her body in oil and baking in the sun with the condition that she (we) give spray tanning a try. Cass had tried the lotion a time or two, this resulted in the above mentioned streaks and splotches. So it seemed harmless enough and I booked us for back to back appointments last Friday.
Now, I've been naked in front of doctors, given birth in the buff, had massages and waxes, but going full monty in front of the spray tanning lady was a humiliation of its own grandeur. Maybe because for those other nudey activities I have been lying down? Don't know. But I do know that standing tall and naked in front of that sticky spray spawned a motivation in me to battle gravity with Jedi fierceness in the near future. But I did it and then Cass went in and did it, though she wore a bikini for her session. I don't own a bikini and, with Matt's urging, figured go buff or don't go at all.
We paid the tan lady an obscene amount of money and went home to await the results. I had forgotten the stench of tanning formulas. I've tried them all and it doesn't seem to matter if they are Estee Lauder, Chanel, Copper Tone, they all stink like the QT of yesteryear. And they are sticky. Sticky like you don't want any part of your body touching another part.
After waiting an hour or two the color started to show. By night my arms, belly and ass were a lovely shade of Clementine. The next morning? OMG. My legs. Apparently spray lady didn't like to crouch? Maybe the view back there wasn't pleasing? I'll never know because I'm never going back to her. It's as if somebody stood, while blindfolded, and tossed orange coloring at my legs. There are splotches, white stripes, brown patches. Cassidy's results were the same: color until her knees, at which point she is pretty much leopard spotty to her feet. I should have gone back and demanded a refund or a touch up, but things are fading and now it seems like such an effort that I don't particularly care. Plus, I have my collection of capris.
Cassidy has not given up and we have been online looking for at home spray tanner machines. Turns out we can buy one for roughly what I paid Lame Spray Lady. Cass figures I can spray her. Maybe Matt can spray me. We'll be orange and happy and splotch free.
As a teen I hated my pale skin and went to great lengths to alter my whiteness. Some of that foolishness I now pay for with annual visits to my dermatologist. The other attempts left orange splotches on my clothes and much mockery from my family. At some point, maybe after I had Loren, I grew comfy with my color and the coverage of capris. But, alas, sweet Cassidy has hit 14 and hates her paleness. I truly believe her freckles look stunning against the background of her light skin, but sister has taken to wearing long sleeved shirts in the heat of summer to hide her limbs. I can't have that. She is devoted to sunblock and was easily talked out of slathering her body in oil and baking in the sun with the condition that she (we) give spray tanning a try. Cass had tried the lotion a time or two, this resulted in the above mentioned streaks and splotches. So it seemed harmless enough and I booked us for back to back appointments last Friday.
Now, I've been naked in front of doctors, given birth in the buff, had massages and waxes, but going full monty in front of the spray tanning lady was a humiliation of its own grandeur. Maybe because for those other nudey activities I have been lying down? Don't know. But I do know that standing tall and naked in front of that sticky spray spawned a motivation in me to battle gravity with Jedi fierceness in the near future. But I did it and then Cass went in and did it, though she wore a bikini for her session. I don't own a bikini and, with Matt's urging, figured go buff or don't go at all.
We paid the tan lady an obscene amount of money and went home to await the results. I had forgotten the stench of tanning formulas. I've tried them all and it doesn't seem to matter if they are Estee Lauder, Chanel, Copper Tone, they all stink like the QT of yesteryear. And they are sticky. Sticky like you don't want any part of your body touching another part.
After waiting an hour or two the color started to show. By night my arms, belly and ass were a lovely shade of Clementine. The next morning? OMG. My legs. Apparently spray lady didn't like to crouch? Maybe the view back there wasn't pleasing? I'll never know because I'm never going back to her. It's as if somebody stood, while blindfolded, and tossed orange coloring at my legs. There are splotches, white stripes, brown patches. Cassidy's results were the same: color until her knees, at which point she is pretty much leopard spotty to her feet. I should have gone back and demanded a refund or a touch up, but things are fading and now it seems like such an effort that I don't particularly care. Plus, I have my collection of capris.
Cassidy has not given up and we have been online looking for at home spray tanner machines. Turns out we can buy one for roughly what I paid Lame Spray Lady. Cass figures I can spray her. Maybe Matt can spray me. We'll be orange and happy and splotch free.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
These days
Today is Matt's 40th birthday. I met him when he was 20, he was the tallest drink of water in the dorm. He was smart, funny, gorgeous and we clicked. What more can I say? Tons, actually. We got pregnant, married, dropped out of college, went back to college, had another baby. We got divorced, had another baby. And there were a gazillion other moments in between everything else. I don't know exactly how or why the fates have brought us back together. Love? I sure like to think so.
This year Matt had a stroke and was diagnosed with a freakish vascular disorder that seems to randomly chew on him whenever it feels so inclined. There's something about looking mortality in its beady eyes and realizing there's still some shit you've got to get done. If we could go back and do it all again, would we? I don't know. This road has been bizarre and bumpy, but these days when I look at the man with the green eyes, the one I've known half my life, bared my soul to, and loved, I am so grateful to be right here right now.
So, here's what I think: Green, you still are the tallest drink of freshness I've ever met. You're wicked smart, funny, gorgeous. You make me laugh and we still totally click. I love you to the end of the road and back and I never intend to get off that road again. I know birthdays aren't your favorite but I hope to make the next and the next and all the nexts spectacular ones. Happy Birthday to you and thank you for being here, it means the world to me.
This year Matt had a stroke and was diagnosed with a freakish vascular disorder that seems to randomly chew on him whenever it feels so inclined. There's something about looking mortality in its beady eyes and realizing there's still some shit you've got to get done. If we could go back and do it all again, would we? I don't know. This road has been bizarre and bumpy, but these days when I look at the man with the green eyes, the one I've known half my life, bared my soul to, and loved, I am so grateful to be right here right now.
So, here's what I think: Green, you still are the tallest drink of freshness I've ever met. You're wicked smart, funny, gorgeous. You make me laugh and we still totally click. I love you to the end of the road and back and I never intend to get off that road again. I know birthdays aren't your favorite but I hope to make the next and the next and all the nexts spectacular ones. Happy Birthday to you and thank you for being here, it means the world to me.
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