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November 24, 2003

Paying the Bills with the Slavic Cheekbones, part II

eat your heart out, fella.

and laugh your ass off, 'cause although I really love these gals (their clothing construction can make even this plus-sized model look slender) their textile choices are really...er...odd, to say the least.

$300+ for each piece, and I really can't say that I'd buy anything. At least, I wouldn't buy the separates to wear together.

Posted by Heather at 09:07 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

The paragraph I wish I'd written:

My cousin Becky was four years older than me and an expert in all things. Her bubble letters were perfect. She had the biggest scented-eraser collection this side of Hallmark.

Posted by Heather at 08:34 AM | TrackBack

November 19, 2003

the rewards of being a grown up are few and far between.

I wish I could tell you that my intuition was incorrect.

but I cannot. at the very least, I now know for certain what I had only suspected, a few days ago.

This morning's lucky coincidence: that my crying-girl-in-the-cubicle appearance can be masqued by the unexpectedly high pollen (dust? mold?) count in the office. Everyone here is sniffling and red-eyed, masking the resulting tears of my wistful bravery (the details of which are too sad to recount here) under the guise of allergy.

thanks for your support, all. your kind words are a bubble of happiness, lofting my heavy heart today.

sigh

Posted by Heather at 10:30 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

November 15, 2003

not exactly out of the blue, but close.

I can feel us beginning to pull away from one another.

The passion, the regard, the joy, the respect, it's all there, just...muted...becoming more...indistinct. . .

Where once we could hardly go two hours without seeing each other, or telephoning, or e-mailing, or text-messaging, it's now two or three days. Although we always re-unite with "I missed you" or "I'm sorry I've been so busy", it feels forced, as if we're trying to convince ourselves that saying the words will make the sentiment genuine...

I tried to convince myself you were just too busy with writing and marketing.

That I was too occupied with the office and the studio and the 2-hour-a-day commute.

I'm realizing our being busy is too laden with something else to be genuine.

We were both able to squeeze in a telephone call while you were doing the book tour, while I was schlepping my portfolio from audition to audition...

but we can't seem to make the time for each other anymore.

I know this next moment will soon come. I've gone through it a million times, in a million different relationships. The moment when we wake up in the morning and realize, all in one scary, horrible moment, that something that was once there has simply....vanished.

I've struggled with the guilt that comes from this realization - and I almost share the painful flinch of the familiar when I see it in your face, hear it in your voice.

The "it's not you, it's me" moment. The I love you, but I'm not 'in love with you." The moment that i used to do anything to avoid.

The moment that you're bravely postponing with every gentle, tactful, ever-so-polite word.

I'm avoiding this moment, too.

I think it's why I'm not calling you back as quickly as I could. Why I'm a little too busy to meet for drinks until next weekend.

It's partially because I want to pretend for just a moment more that we're still friendly lovers, rather than friendly...er...friends. . . but it's mostly because I want to see how you do it. How would you handle this situation - because with all the practice I've had in coming to this moment, I've never once successfully negotiated the obstacle course of "ending well" - but if anyone can do it, I know you can.

I could, of course, be a grownup and bow out gracefully. Put you out of your "how to gracefully break it off" misery with one swift phone call before we meet in a carefully selected public place in which you can break the news, let me cry on your shoulder, and offer one last kiss (perhaps just a little too eager for a breakup kiss) before we part ways.

but I'm just deluded enough to hope that my feelings, my hunches, my observations are wrong. And I'm perfectly willing to wait out the week, meet you for that drink, with this in mind.

so, in the mean time, here's to busy full time jobs that keep our minds off of life's painful realities,

and here's to hoping.

Posted by Heather at 01:53 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack

November 03, 2003

First full week of work...

Yeah, they finally upgraded my hours from 30 to 40 a week (despite my fears they'd crank it down to 10 hours...) and I'm feeling pretty good about the change.

Today is the end of the first full week of 8-hour days, and it was great - learning the office web design protocols, teasing the co workers, enjoying a forbidden fast-food lunch before getting into the routine of brown bagging-it...

it makes me feel lovely and grown-up and everything, going on the train with the big boys and girls, never seeing the light of day...but I am still not quite grown up, it seems.

evidence that I am still officially five:

my boss uttered the sentence "okay, that page would be perfect if you just stroked the siemens [ed: pronounced, of course, semens] logo"

and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from snickering.

and I've got months of this cheek-biting ahead, as I'm building the whole siemens site.

how the hell am I going to tell my friends and family what I did at work this week? "Oh, I spent the mornings stroking the siemens logo, then I had lunch..."

Posted by Heather at 09:10 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack