How My Days Work

Behold, the secrets of the Heatherverse are about to be unleashed!  You wanted to know the most intimate details of my existence?  What, you don't care?  Well stop reading then.

If, however, you would like to experience a typical day in my world (which is, as we all know, the prime reality; everyone else are just visitors) please continue.

After several hours of checking up on my nocturnal real estate in the land of dreams, nightmares, and occasionally alternate realities and time jumping I am awakened by the noxious bleating of my cell phone alarm.  Depending on whether or not my anti-depression meds are working I may or may not feel rested.  Hint:  I'm usually sluggish and tired.  Nonetheless, I drag my arse out of bed and let Porch Cat in to feed and try to sneak in to nap on the furniture.  The first step following this is the kitchen for coffee, provided I don't immediately throw myself into chores. 

Chores usually happen on the good days because I'll have the energy and I prefer a clean house.  During these times, breakfast usually gets skipped for a good lunch because I know I have to get as much done as I can before my energy runs out.  I know, I know breakfast is the most important meal yadda yadda yadda....  I eat!  I promise!  I just get distracted. 

After tearing around and doing chores, errands, etc. it's usually time to sit and play for a bit and eat something before I pass out.  Friends come over and at some point there is usually a brilliant idea created that nobody ever follows through with.  I've had so many of these I should really be rich by now.   

Usually by the end of the day the dirty dishes have once again multiplied like Tribbles (some of them even growing pink fur) and are demanding washing.  I ignore them for as long as humanly possible because if there's one thing I can't stand it's bitchy dishes.  It's like having a passive aggressive husband; filthy and glaring at you from the corner of your eye.  Ugh. 

The end of the day comes and I make contact with the heads of my army that I haven't spoken with in a few days.  All is usually well and they each say they love and miss me.  I concur, then go off to read before bed.  If more of my army was here, I'd probably be having midnight picnics in the cemeteries.  Actually, that's probably a bad idea.  The last time I was in a cemetery at midnight I got bit on the boob by a brown recluse.  Hmm, may have to rethink that one.

Anyway, that's a typical day for me.  Exciting, isn't it?

Today Was a Good Day

I got plenty of sleep, went to work, and enjoyed myself.  I'm thinking about picking up some extra work on my days off to get a little spare cash.  But then, when would I have time to plant the garden?  The sink sprouted kidney bean is already six inches tall, I'm going to end up with Swamp Thing if I don't plant it soon.

Today I had a problem.  Not a big one, a minor one.  There are a number of oil workers that are staying at the hotel for the next month and one of them has decided he likes me.  Some little Mexican guy, I don't know.  He called down to the front desk and started asking me if I was single.  I blew him off saying he missed me by a few weeks, sorry.  He called again for a wakeup call and asked if I was sure I wasn't single.  He continued flirting with me saying he'd be there for several weeks and would I give him a wakeup call every day?  Sigh.

Here's the problem.  I'm not very good at flirting unless I am the one initiating it.  Because it happens so rarely that guys flirt with me I tend to get extremely flustered and tongue tied.  It always surprises me and throws me off, especially if I'm in the middle of concentrating on something else.

The second time El Guapo called I was trying to get the end of shift done as well as check in a couple that had just showed up.  It finally clicked what he was talking about with the "wakeup call" and when he asked for the third time about being single I said, "Uhhh, I'm sorry I have to talk to you about this later".  He laughed, knowing how thrown I was and hung up. 

I looked up at the couple and said "I apologize, that guy keeps trying to marry me."  The lady thought this was one of the funniest things she'd heard and just rolled with laughter.  I have to admit, seeing her as tickled as she was at my predicament made it a lot funnier.

On the way home a pickup truck with a couple of very drunk white boys started the same thing at the stop light.  What is this, the day for Heather's yearly flirt quota?  Geez.  Well, could be worse.

Electronics and Gardening

This week has been dedicated to moving forward with repairs to broken stuff, gradual cleaning, and the plotting of the backyard layout.  Despite the five canisters of salt Other Brother poured in the center of the lawn at the end of last summer, the swamplands have seen fit to take over with minimal difficulty.  I have done gardening before without a tiller, and let me tell you it is a pain in the back.  Unfortunately, I do not have the cash to buy a tiller at this time or a contact to borrow one.  Hence, the garden shall be done the old-fashioned way; with Rico hooked up to a plow--muscles contracting and a sheen of sweat coating his tender mocha skin.  And me sitting on the stoop overseeing the labor, moisture pooling in my loins while sipping a mint julep in my sundress and summer hat.  BWAHAHAHAHAAH!!! Just kidding, Rico.

Actually what it means is that my broke ass will be visiting Home Depot for a cheap hoe and shovel.  This is as opposed to the cheap ho's available in the FQ.  Likely, I will once again be reminded of my absolute muttness in the world of whitey as I managed to inherit a skin tone that leaves tan lines any farmer could be proud of.  What doesn't stay blindingly white will turn lobster red, and FAST.  The remainder looks like Jackson Pollack came after me with brown gravy.

The other big news is that at long last I have a replacement Xbox 360!  Other Brother took his Xbox with him upon moving back to Dallas.  So, when taxes came in that was my present to myself.  The rest is being hoarded for bills and rent.  Plus, since I had the foresight to purchase the coverage plan for my Best Buy bottom-line floor model Dynex tv (which was dying), I got it replaced free of charge.  Also, they upgraded me to an LG model which is really, really nice.  Well worth the $100 investment for the Geek Squad coverage.  Essentially, I got a free tv worth roughly double my initial investment.  I rock the casa.

I highly recommend saving yourself a chunk of change by purchasing a refurbished Xbox.  The last time I bought one it was a refurb too and it worked fine for years.  This time around I got the new slimline with 250 gig hard drive and Kinect ready.  One controller, hdmi cable, and a headset are also included for the cost of $249 (which includes shipping and handling).  The only thing I'm mildly dissatisfied with is the fact that no cord came with the controller.  I like not the idea of changing out batteries every two seconds.  Still and all, that's a minor issue I can live with.  Damn I love Amazon. 

I'm working (finally!) but on the lookout for higher paying, less painful employment.  I don't mind doing front desk customer service, but my feet and hips do.  Eight hours a day standing with no lunch break and barely a chance to sit and rest my feet is ridiculous.  Don't get me wrong, I am extremely thankful that I have regular work coming in, but I'd be stupid not to keep my resume updated and available.

Ok, that's all for now folks.  Tomorrow comes early and I'd like to attempt to get some sleep tonight before blue collar gardening.  Ergh!

Lessons From the Front Desk

This week I began working in the public eye after ten plus years of being a desk jockey.  My feet are killing me as are my hips, and I'm beginning to remember just how much pain one's body goes through standing for eight hours.  By the end of the night my feet and hips hurt so bad I couldn't do anything except lean on the counter and shift my weight back and forth.  Ugh.  Thank goodness for drive-through daquiris.

Listed also among the things I had forgotten was just how miserable most people are in a customer service position; especially a face to face one.  The pay is low, the hours suck, and being at the bottom of the ladder means doing the most work.  Personally, I'm happy just to have a job so I can put up with any number of gripes.  This has also served as a reminder as to why it's imperative I finish my bachelors degree as soon as possible.  I'm too good to be a grunt at property #2B4QZ---whatever. 

Having said that, there are definitely amusing moments in the position.  Single ladies, look no further.  If you want to find a strong young man with too much time and money on his hands come on by.  The hotel I work at hosts frequent groups of oil company workers.  All of these roughnecks and riggers are in pretty decent shape too.  I'm apparently allergic to whatever they're bringing in from the rigs and don't have an interest in any of them as they're a little too rugged for me.  Might be a good option for others in the neighborhood, though.

One guy came up and asked for laundry soap for the machines, then balked at the $1 a load price.  Still, he said he'd buy it because he hated waiting for his buddies to go to the grocery store to pick up the bulk Tide.  "It takes them three hours to get done on a shopping trip," said the poor, tired Mexican. 

"Why does it take them so long?" I asked. 

"They're out there looking for girls."

I suppose there are worse places to pick up chicks than the ketchup aisle, but it seems to me to be more challenging than necessary. 

I also find myself relating to Fawlty Towers a lot more now.  Not so much John Cleese's character, but the fact that I keep seeing the same faces so many days in a row.  This property has a lot of regular repeat customers so it's kind of like a sitcom in that way too.  Lots of moments that are important to someone but drone on as part of the background for me.  I'm half tempted to wear a white button up shirt with black pants, fake moustache, and nametag stating "Manuel" for April 1st.  All I'll say to people is "que?" and address my co-worker as "Meestah Fawlty".  Sheer hilarity.

What an Interesting Week

Well, better make that a week-and-a-half.  The chaos of recent days has been like a vacation without ever leaving home.  The time speeding by has been dedicated to playing tour guide and having a good time with out-of-towners.  Stephie arrived first followed by Mike and Misti.  We saw the Hermes/Krewe d'Etat parade and caught a metric buttload of beads, walked the French Quarter, gambled, ate great food, and generally partied.  Some of us partied a little too hard and were subject to the throes of hangovers, as was to be expected.  There was also the Pal's Parade walk from Mid-City to the FQ, but that was abruptly stopped when Scott Monster started feeling poorly.  We created our own parade instead and gave out beads to small children (who were appropriately appreciative) and chatted with other locals.  Later on in the week we did laundry and Mike and Misti got tattoos from Electric Ladyland.  I think that was really my favorite part.

I also got to have a lovely visit at Brennan's with my second cousin Deb (who I haven't seen since I was about 13), met her sister Becky and their friend Dan, and was reminded that the world truly is small.  Try to follow this one:

"Other Brother" Matt lived in NOLA for about two years previous to moving back to Texas.  While he was a resident of LA, he worked for Scott Monster at the FQ Suites.  Scott Monster and Karrie Monster were (and are) a couple.  Karrie Monster works at Whole Foods and has a friend named Jacqueline who worked there as well.  Jacqueline and Matt dated for awhile and then parted ways.  Jacqueline started seeing a guy named Cameron who also worked at Whole Foods and was divorced from his wife Nicole.  Cam no longer works at Whole Foods but Nicole still does.  Nicole is my cousin Deb's other cousin, and oddly the only person out of the whole bunch who hasn't been either a visitor or resident of my current house.

Spring has sprung and love is in the air along with the onset of bugs and the extra ripeness of Bourbon Street.  The stench also pertains to my armpits after hiking way too long in bad shoes to be a costumed extra for the HBO series Treme.  Hey, I got paid so I'm not complaining; look for me in Episode 7, Season 2. 

In other movie news, I talked to one of the production assistants about liking his shirt and asked if the design was from the "Preacher" comic book series.  He was very impressed that I recognized it and gave me a lovely tidbit.  The tale of the Reverend Jesse Custer has officially been picked up for filming (he was friends with the producers) and will finally be in production as well as Garth Ennis' following series "The Boys".  "Preacher" I'm thinking will definitely be filmed locally due to the plotline, probably not so much for "The Boys". 

Whew!  I think that's all.  Is that all?  I know it's been a long time wait for posting but dang it's been busy!  I'm ready for my nap now Mr. DeMille. 

Four Score and 2 Billion BCE...

...when I got married at age 24 I was just out of a string of bad dates/relationships, dealing with debilitating depression and anxiety, and having second thoughts despite the gray anvil on my shoulders.  I was watching all my friends pair off and tired of the only people that I could respect making any moves on me being girls.  After the last horrible date (in which the guy I'd been seeing came over only to leave after 2 hours to go to a party) I was done.  I made the decision that I'd sleep with this last guy and if it didn't work out I was going to go lesbian.  The choices on the other side of the fence were at least friendlier, if a little more complicated.

My first time with this guy; indeed with any guy up to that point, turned out to be non-consensual, because I hadn't been ready to do the deed right at that moment.  I was irritated that I'd waited 24 years to be with someone and wasn't even given the choice to be ready.  Didn't help that he was essentially limp from that point on and cried like a bitch the first time I was actually ready because there was "too much pressure".  But, being the "good wife" I dealt with it and thus spent the next four years getting less emotional and physical affection than I ever had in my entire life.

Pride has always been my downfall.  I hate being wrong, though I make a concerted effort to see the other side of things and listen with an open mind.  Nobody knew how horribly depressed I was prior to the marriage because I thought I could "handle it".  Or that I was marrying him only because of a misguided promise I made to myself when I was small that I'd wait for the right one.  That, and the overwhelming need to ensure the safety and upbringing of two bright, creative, well-behaved twins from his first marriage---because I knew he couldn't do it.  It was also my chance of being a mom when I realized there was very little likelihood of having kids of my own; which turned out to be a blessing.

The whole thing was disaster and lies from the beginning and I felt trapped physically on top of dealing with undiagnosed chronic genetic depression.  He was a psychopath and though he never laid a finger on me (and went out of his way to avoid touching or communicating with me at all unless it was to belittle me or lie) I count myself lucky to have gotten out alive.  He was going to leave one way or another and when he saw his cruelty and negligence was killing me he opted to drop all responsibilities (including his children) and run away to Oregon with the office secretary rather than have my death on his hands.  If he'd had a pair, I have no doubt he would have killed me and gotten off on it.  By the way, the secretary promptly booted him after 6 months.

Why is all this coming up now?  Because even though I'm sick with a fever and broke I have a roof over my head and family and friends that love me unconditionally.  I'm living in New Orleans, a city I've loved for as long as I can remember, and having an excellent time even though I still battle depression on a daily basis.  I'm not saying that the abuse in my marriage was deserved, far from it; but I wouldn't have gotten to where I am today without enduring and learning from it.  You can only appreciate what you have and know that you can succeed when you've hit rock bottom and the only way to go is up. 

I also appreciate that I was older when I flubbed it by marrying the douche.  I can barely imagine being 18 and taking the plunge into poverty, having a spouse unafraid to steal or destroy the little I'd built for myself, and take everyone down with him because of selfish desires.  I can't fathom being 18 and wanting to do anything but go out without a curfew and getting my degree.  I especially can't comprehend doing it with kids involved.

I guess the moral to the story is this; users take heed.  The road to hell is paved with good intentions and while you may consider your actions to be pure and enlightened, taking advantage is taking advantage.  Deep down you know your actions are solely based on immediate self-fulfillment regardless of your purported altruism.  It hurts those around you and causes suffering in ways you never have considered.  Those of you who recognize yourself as the victim in a similar misfortune, do yourself a favor and think of the outcome you are likely to face since the other party is obviously not.  Save yourself while you have the chance and screw dissenting opinions.  Just remember, you'll be happy and they won't be alone.  There's always another sucker out there to take your place. 

Are You Sitting Down?

I am, because despite the departure of Other Brother from being my roommate I still retain my Throne, Bench, and Couch of Perpetual Indulgence Mark II.  If I had a full time job, I might think about replacing the echos in the living area with new furniture; like an Eames Lounge Chair from the lovely people at CSN who do home decor and furnishings.  By the way, if you leave me a comment at the end of this blog I'll choose at random one winner of a $15 gift code to use as you wish at any of their 200+ websites.  They only ship to the US and Canada so if you happen to be my one Vietnamese reader out there, sorry about that but feel free to say "hi" anyway.  Canadians may run into international shipping taxes from receiving their stuff, but otherwise you can use the gift code for whatever you'd like. 

Okay, corporate obligations aside, here's a recap of the weekend.  Other Brother came back with his Mom and Uncle in a whirlwind of moving and relocated yesterday.  Everything's fine with us, he's going back to Dallas where the work is and is still fulfilling his financial obligations to me.  I can't and don't blame him for going where the work is, but I'll miss him.  I looked despondent enough when he left that unofficial roommate James gave me a gruff hug and then said we should go to his place to watch a movie so I wouldn't be stuck alone in an empty house.

Off to James' house to watch Dead Snow, the most awesome Norwegian zombie flick ever created, and drink scotch.  After the movie was over work began on The Comic Books.  The Comic Books are James' latest acquisition apart from the Sofa of Doom.  Both came from Tommy, a friend who had to move to South Korea for work.  Tommy offered to sell James not one, not two, but EIGHT fully packed comic boxes (Length 30 X Width 9 X Height 12 3/4) for the low low price of $200 since he had to vacate and didn't care about storing them.  In these crates were just about every title, storyline, crossover, graphic novel, and special edition known to man for the past ten years under Marvel, DC, and then some; a good 95% of which are in pristine condition.  

Unfortunately, James is much the same way I am about my comic books when I get around to organizing them.  It becomes a mission for which perfection is the only option, damned be the time it takes.  James had been working on this solo for the better part of two and a half weeks and was becoming increasingly frustrated with this nightmare of an OCD project.  So we sat down and for five hours sorted, separated and arranged by number (lowest on top) all these titles.  With the two of us working we got through a large chunk of the collection, but it's by no means finished.

This, in large part, is the reason that we spent a few hours at the New Orleans Comic Con today.  Tommy had the annoying habit of purchasing all issues in a series but for one in the middle (probably thinking he'd already bought it) and James was interested in hunting down a few missing issues as well as purchasing more bags and boards for his acquisitions.  The first three hundred bags barely scratched the surface.

The fee for getting in was not what we had been led to believe and absolutely ludicrous to the point that I feel exceedingly guilty since James had offered to pay.  When you get in, the comic stores are selling you stuff, the dealers are selling you stuff, and the stars sure as hell are selling you stuff.  $25 for an autographed photo?  Really?  

All right, I admit it was kinda neat to see all those big names in one spot.  The childhood geek in me loved seeing Peter Tork of the Monkees (lookin' good for his age) as well as Louis Gossett Jr. (short!).  I must've seen Firewalker with him and Chuck Norris about fifty times.  Walter Koenig (Chekov - Star Trek) was there too, although that was kinda sad because the last time I really paid attention to him was when I was in Vancouver on Halloween holiday in '09--not two miles from the park where his son committed suicide that same week.  On a lighter note, Ernie Hudson from Ghostbusters is none too shabby for as long as he's been around and seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.   

The only people who weren't hawking stuff were the members of the 501st, a Star Wars costume troupe that does charity events.  My friend Karrie Monster is a soon-to-be member and was helping out with the booth in Sith gear.  Karrie introduced me to her two friends Megan (dressed as LeeLoo from the Fifth Element) and Amber, wearing a blond wig and very short red dress.  Amber had been commandeered to assist in bringing traffic to Daniel Logan's (Boba Fett from Star Wars: Episode II) booth.  This guy is a tiny little perv of a Kiwi.  He's maybe 5'3" and weighs slightly more than a cheeseburger. But good grief his personality is big!  The first comment he had as Karrie, Megan and I wandered up was to look up and ask "Threesome?   Foursome?"  Naturally I brought the girls up front and center and said "these count as four".  His eyes bugged out and he agreed wholeheartedly.


Amber interjected and asked if we wanted to see her ad space.  We said sure, and came around the booth where she was, Daniel waving us in.  Amber then turned her backside to us, lifted her dress, and showed us the outerwear set of panties she'd made that read "Your Ad Here" on the crotch.  The ladies and I all agreed this was pretty funny and Daniel suggested we show the neighbor in the booth behind...who happened to be Adam West.  (If you need me to tell you who that is you need to pull your head out from under that rock.)  The explanation was given, the curtain pulled aside....

I can't tell you how funny it was to see that old man tilt his head, stare, and then immediately with a look of incredulity turn around and go back to his booth.  The next victim was Nicholas Brendan (Xander of Buffy).  He got called over and this time Amber showed her sign from the booth counter.  He was wearing shades (because, y'know, they do that in Hollywood) and came over, same head tilt, then the expression of shock as he realized what it was he was looking at. I couldn't watch when they tried it with Walter.  I was afraid that poor old man would have a heart attack. 


I glanced over to the next table where one of the other actors was having lunch and giving a quizzical look as to what was going on at our booth.  I wandered over and said I was going to leave the perverts for awhile and talk to some normal people.  She asked what they were doing and I explained the gag to her.  Her name was Keisha Tillis and she's a very pretty, well-spoken, up and coming actress.  As of late she was in the AMC series The Walking Dead.  I've read two of the graphic novels (again thanks to James) and really enjoyed them, but hadn't gotten a chance to see the show yet.  I'm gonna have to now, she was really nice and I loved the books.

After hobnobbing with the nerdy and famous, we went back to the house for JamesBurgers.  The rest of the day was calm and rainy.  I've got a temp job in the AM, so that's all for now folks!  Tune in next week, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.  And now a word from our sponsor (Your Ad Here).