Archive for the 'Va-cay-cay-cay' Category

Labor Day: Only three years late to this party

September 7, 2009 | Filed under: Va-cay-cay-cay

“Sometimes it’s important to work for that pot of gold.  But other times it’s essential to take time off and to make sure that your most important decision in the day simply consists of choosing which color to slide down on the rainbow.”  ~Douglas Pagels

Stringer freaking Bell.

P.S. Stringer, I know you’re a reticent drug dealer type but I’d totally make out with you. Love, Heather.

P.P.S. I went to a corner store in the middle of a marathon and I swear I could feel someone watching me. When I’m in Baltimore in two weeks (I’M SO HAPPY THAT IT HURTS) I’ll be on the watch out for any Jimmy McNultys and the like. Swearsies.

And now a word on my vacation

August 27, 2009 | Filed under: Great moments in narcissism, Va-cay-cay-cay

“Children make you want to start life over.”  ~Muhammad Ali

While on vacation I had dinner with my friend KG one evening. For the record ‘KG’ isn’t some pseudonym or something for her, it’s just that I have pet names for all of my friends. Usually I keep them in my head or they are in my phone as the way I refer to them in my mind. Like my friend Sarah is in my phone with her entire name and that is how I refer to her. Again. IN MY HEAD. So KG is KG at all times whether she knows is and/or likes it. The very first time I met KG, Alice introduced me to her and Alice kept talking to me and I was too busy all up in KG’s grill harassing her and she accepted it and likes me despite myself. She also looks like she belongs in a J.Crew catalog which adds to her general precious self.

And wow, I just hit my ass kissing quota of the day.  But seriously, if you met her you’d be all “I love you. Be my friend?” too.

It’s kind of hard to come up with really! great! stories from Martha’s Vineyard because it is so the opposite of hyperbole and extremes. Martha’s Vineyard is sitting on your butt all day in your bathing suit only moving if – and only if – the sun happens to scald your shoulders. Crossing the Nantucket sound is like an hour of Vinyasa yoga. You feel all zen and chill and all your cares are whisked away.

Upon returning our friend Danny wanted to know how our meeting went. To which I replied that it went swell and all but dude, she can’t chug a beer. And that concerns me because my #7 quality for a friend is “Must excel at flip cup”. It’s just above “Must accept overuse of ‘fuck’” and right under “Trustworthy”. So color me appalled when we were getting ready to leave and I finish my beer in one gulp and there’s KG, delicately sipping away. I swear she even had her pinky up.

But what I really wanted to tell Danny was this story:

We’re sitting at dinner and KG’s husband wants to know all the spectacular details of my life. Normally I sit there and look mildly confused but since I had the gift of Sam Adams summer ale inside of me I gave him the quick and dirty rundown. Her eight year old son was sitting across from me engrossed in Harry Potter and stopped reading to listen to my very exciting life which did not involve Tom Riddle. Instead of being disappointed in my abilities to scare off Deatheaters, he then exclaimed, “Wow! You’ve had a big life”.

“Wait, how old are you?” he said after a brief pause.

“25…” And as I waited for him to ask me to whip out my AARP card he suddenly said, “AND YOU’RE ONLY 25!” Like genuine shock that at 25 I’ve actually done stuff. And God willing I’ll do more, like, stuff.

But because I was writing Danny back from my phone while lying in the fetal position, I didn’t tell him this story. I also didn’t mention the part where The Eight Year Old asked for a pony and I gave him one and then I offered up 50 bucks if he’d come live with me and be my personal self-esteem booster.

The Eight Year Old spent the rest of the evening quizzing me on Harry Potter knowledge and then we saw some fireworks that made me feel vomitous, deaf and blind. And then we had beers and then KG drank her pale ale with her pinky up.

And that, kids, pretty much sums up my vacation.

KG thinks I should write like a book or something. I’m assuming that at some point she’ll read this post and my attempt at ’story-telling’, her eyes will bulge out of their sockets and she’ll say out loud, “Holy hell. Stick to your day job, honey”. I mean, I’m totally guessing here but my God, that was not my best work.

Headache, heartache

April 5, 2009 | Filed under: Humdrum, The year on the edge, Va-cay-cay-cay

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”  ~Winston Churchill

The last time I was this hungover was October 27, 2004, the day after my 21st birthday. The birthday that will always be remembered as that time JB made me play Guess the Shot! and the shot was gin and I’d rather have my toenails removed with pliers than ‘enjoy’ a gin martini. The story of how I got the hangover from hell is a convoluted one that ends with someone who I respect reaming me out for an hour. I then wake up this morning and I am reamed out once again because I am not a mother and I will never be a mother and I should probably just pack it all in right now because I will never know anything. Which makes the person who told me all about myself the other evening slightly correct: My heart isn’t in it right now. It’s not all that into anything and I’m pretty hurt and embarrassed right now because…well, let’s face it: I’m an asshole. Anyway, I have a long and much deserved vacation coming up this week and hopefully I feel a little better at the end. But right now I’m feeling perpetually shit upon and rather than explore why in a very public fashion I want some me-time.

Have a lovely week and be wary of anything that is fermented.

The Vitamin D trip

March 1, 2009 | Filed under: Grace in Small Things, The year on the edge, Va-cay-cay-cay

“Life’s not always fair.  Sometimes you can get a splinter even sliding down a rainbow.”  ~Cherralea Morgen

Before I left I had already dubbed this trip The Great California Adventure. Which is surprising for someone of my pessimistic nature because it’s usually “This trip is going to suck and I’ve made myself think it’s going to be awesome but then I end up in tears. P.S. I hate everyone”. But this trip really was The Bestest Trip Ever. It’s set the bar high for every other vacation I go on which means that Austin is now on notice.

I would love to dwell on how amazing I felt during this trip but I really cannot bring myself to do so at this very moment. So here are photos in lieu of wit and stories as I prepare for four days of work and a funeral to finish off the week.

Friday will probably be a long-winded drunk blog post because come on now, don’t you think I deserve to drink the entire bottle of wine? Yes, yes you do.

Like a prayer

February 26, 2009 | Filed under: Va-cay-cay-cay

“Vacation used to be a luxury, but in today’s world it has become a necessity.”  ~Author Unknown

The other night Sarah and I had to explain to Danny what it was like to drive in snow. Like how suddenly you believe in Jesus as your personal savior and remember that time you were saved as you grip the steering wheel with a force previously unknown. We explained what it’s like to white knuckle it all the way home while praying that you make it to your front doorstep without the Grim Reaper knocking down your walls.

All he could do is shrug his shoulders and say, “That’s why I live in California”.

I’m pretty sure they don’t believe in snow in Orange County. Snow is an abstract thing seen in photographs and paintings but doesn’t really exist. In no way, shape or form is it natural for water to freeze while coming out of a cloud and form piles and piles of frozen stuff that one must shovel their vehicles out of. I wish I had a photo of Danny’s reaction when Sarah explained the dirty snow and the way canines pee and poop on top of it like it’s nothing.

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At Fashion Island I found myself meticulously checking my work email that is until my crackberry died. Without warning it was gone. I cannot turn it on and it no longer holds a charge. I called my secretary to tell her of my dire news to which she exclaimed, “Well good for you!” I suppose I’m really on vacation now. Hot damn, high-fives and terrorist fist bumps for everyone.

Now, who’s up for a shot of Patron?

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Photos as they come