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March 31, 2004

and here, I thought I'd never change...

so, I'm torn between dishing and privately savoring, today.

so I'm going to skate between the two extremes, if y'all don't mind.

went on a first date last night that was so disgustingly perfect, I can't quite believe that it happened. I thought I was good, but I must now defer to him as the master of the genre. he had just the right amount of cool and composed and fun and flirty and trying-to-impress-without-being-ostentatious. If I don't end up dating this man, I really really need to take his class in 'how to plan a perfect first date' because, well, he could show me a thing or two.

I can tell you that it was a date right out of Some Kind of Wonderful except:

'keith' was dashing, slightly more confident, and not arguing with his father.

I was both 'amanda jones' and 'watts', with a slightly cooler outfit than amanda but nowhere near as cool as watts' hourglass of satin

the surprise gift before dinner was neither jewelry nor was it loaded with meaning, but it certainly was something I love and would never have expected on a first date (and no, he didn't blow me, so get your minds out of the gutter, ladies)

dinner, at Spring, did not feature hamburger on a silver platter.

the after-dinner party we attended was less crowded, and had no impending rich kids vs. the burnouts war.

lucky for me, being the amanda jones of this story means I got to go on the date and get the lovely complements and be charmed and charming, but at the end, I got to be watts.

if you haven't seen the movie, I won't spoil it for you.

and if you have, well, i have no idea if there'll be a future. but the present is pretty damned spectacular.

Posted by Heather at 05:57 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

March 26, 2004

the word of the day...

I am ashamed to say I am so stuck in the early 80's that I can't think of a word other than "gaylord" to describe myself today. as in "that girl? she's a total gaylord. like, to the max? word."

mind, the word, to me, has always meant "self-consciously open with unnameable emotions over which people who are totally cool (and utterly unlike myself) seem to be able to keep from embarrassing themselves"

and yes, the only real reason I have to use the word today is because I realized that every time this one fella calls, and every time I call back, and every time I talk about the whole weird awkward first-date-and-beyond-dance, I do that totally gaylordian shimmy (sometimes for real, sometimes just in my head) that...wassname...laura linney.....her character does in the Love Actually trailer. You know, the stupid little full-body spazz out that you simply must perform, just so you can get out of the totally uncool awkward overload of surprised-happiness and can get back to being the smooth and sophisticated aloof person you normally are?

yeah. total gaylord. that's me.

have a good weekend, folks.

Posted by Heather at 04:14 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

March 25, 2004

the clocks, they are a tickin'

My birthday is creeping up on me again.

next weekend, in fact. I'll reach yet another stage of thirtysomething.

and I've managed to blunder into the age category in which most women start hearing the tick tick tick of their bodies, telling them to do something soon or be forced to forever experience other people's achievements rather than their own....

Most women my age are moms by now. or thinking about having babies, at least. the whole "ooh, I really gotta get myself a fella - or at least get myself some sperm - and go forth to procreate" thing takes over and they can't enter any baby-filled public space without making a beeline to smell the head or whatever it is baby-wantin' folks get out of holding a tiny poopmachine in their arms.

now, I don't doubt that there is great satisfaction to be found with babymaking - for those whose biological clocks are ticking like mad, a baby will be just the thing.

but I don't have that clock. sure, I want companionship, and I manage not to kick, bite, or otherwise harm the exofoeti that I encounter from year to year. . . but the whole EEK! BABY! MUST HAVE!!! thing is not the ticking noise I hear from day to day.

I DO have a clock, mind, but it's got something to it other than flesh and bone and poop and smiles and birthdays and car payments and college payments and drug rehab payments and someone to abuse you in your old age at the end.

I have an architectural clock.

yup. a ticking inside me that tells me I should go get myself a couple more jobs, pay off this towering debt, and start working on that house I've always wanted.

I think I made it up, the architectural clock excuse, but it explains why I can't stop looking at the housing listings in the paper. why I offer to help my friends install new plumbing in their kitchens, and new lighting in their hallways, before taking over and painting their hallways before they get home with the outlet covers I sent them out for...why I go to home stores, to hardware stores, to knobberies and all sorts of flooring stores on a semi-regular basis.

why, when the weather gets all sunny and warm, I can't keep from my twice-monthly pilgrimages to my favorite architectural doo-dad store to see what's there and wishing I had a home to build around each and every door, window, mantel, and light fixture they've lovingly saved from the wrecking ball...

I think sorting through a pile of old porcelain and fondling row after row of victorian mantels calms me down like holding a fat pink squirmy kid calms the biological beast inside the normal thirty-something babe.

and I need to be calmed down a lot, these days. they're going to start thinking I'm bonkers, at the store. what with the frequent visits to the bones of my future home....

lucky for me, I don't need any boy or sperm to stop the clock from ticking...just time. and money.

oh gosh. I forgot the money part....tick tick tick tick tick tick........

Posted by Heather at 12:12 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

March 17, 2004

comix rock.

finally working my way through neil gaiman's sandman series.

they have 'em at my local (and otherwise mediocre) public library -

it's so weird, to see graphic novels in a staid stack next to the "wacky" garfields in the dewey decimal system...

also weird - having fellow passengers on the train act like reading comic books is somehow more low-brow than reading glossy women's magazines. This morning as I'm looking at a page filled with zombies, a weirdly-coiffed co-passenger looked over from cosmo, sniffed, and asked: "do you have kids?"

it took all of my train-riding courtesy training to not look at her mag, sniff, and ask "do you have crabs?"

don't get me wrong, I'm all about magazines - I subscribe (and contribute) to quite a few. but if you get all up in my face on the judgment wagon, I'm leaping right back up in yours, eh?

so, that said, I'm finally able to appreciate graphic novels. any suggestions on the next series to tackle?

Posted by Heather at 04:13 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

oh, the holiday goodness.

yes, I'm irish. and scottish. and austrian and welsh and all sorts of european mutt-like ethnicities.

but, although I dressed to party, I completely forgot to wear green today. I suppose my eye color will have to suffice.

and no, I still haven't quite figured out the hair. shut up.

(that weird white thing at my beautifully-shod feet is a victorian doorstop. which we keep handy, in case the victorians should want to come and start the door. or something.)

happy st pat's, y'all.

Posted by Heather at 12:26 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

March 12, 2004

you can take it from me....

in the Sun-Times today:

Unneeded organs: Don't act up, spleen, or you're GONE!

I've already had the spleen, tonsils/adenoids, and gallbladder out - I'm thinking the appendix is go next, then the thyroid (women in the great lakes area tend to pop those out at an alarming rate)...not sure how I feel about getting rid of the paired organs, tho. don't want the one lung pining away for the other one....

Posted by Heather at 09:53 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

March 09, 2004

trying to resist becoming Kathy. (no, not you, kathy, the other kathy)

okay, if I don't start writing about relationship shit or fucking or something, this whole journal thing just goes down the tubes.

I guess I'm just happier as a writer in the summertime - more off-line things to do, fewer excuses to do stupid grooming things and write about them like my declining looks portend the doom of the nation.

To that end, the doom of the nation, however threatened by my hair fiasco, may very well be saved by the totally weird magical appearance of tight abs on my otherwise quite un-toned, un-muscled frame. How is it possible for abs to just, well, tone on their own? please advise.

So. anyway. I'm totally loving this new web-designery job thing, even after 6 whole months of never getting to sleep in on a monday morning.

it's still freaking me out that nothing new happens during the day, so every single stupid little thing blows up into the biggest thing to have ever happened in the history of office relations. Like every other coffee drinker on the face of the planet, I find myself having an imaginary hissy fit every time I walk into the coffee room to find a rim of sludge where a fresh pot of coffee should be brewing. Since when does making a fresh pot after taking the near-to-last-cup have to be the end-all be-all moment of the morning?

seriously. I worry myself, sometimes.

Posted by Heather at 12:03 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

March 08, 2004

I know, I'm a big baby.

Thank you thank you thank you for your e-mails and comments and all the support about the new 'do. It's really helped me get through the weekend of experimenting with "how to not look like Farrah Fawcett meets Carol Brady" without just cutting it all off and starting from scratch.

I swear, I wouldn't be such a baby about the whole thing if it weren't for the fact that for the last 10 years, I could leave the house 30 minutes after the alarm clock blasted me awake in the morning. I could shower, dress, throw on some mascara, and run a blow-dryer for 3 or 4 minutes and I was done.

But this whole short hair thing is a pain in the ass. to look presentable, I gotta dry it thoroughly. I have to use three different slimy smelly products (one for the roots, one for the longer ends, and one for the shorter ends...). Oh yeah, I also need to use a straightening mangle comb thingy to smooth out the curly bits.

unless I want to look like the lead from Flock of Seagulls. yes, that's an effortless look that I can now achieve by simply sleeping for a few hours. (Yes, I've already added this to the list of reasons why I can't sleep over)

I'm looking at the photos from last week, however, and am realizing that the time I spend on the hair is a part of a larger girlishness that has been seeping into my life these past few weeks. I'm painting the nails. I'm buying kicky miniskirts and swishy hourglass-shaped ballgowns. I now have three pairs of spiky heels and all sorts of stockings and form-fitting blouses.

I haven't been this girly since high school, when I wouldn't leave the house without makeup.

I'm wondering how to put a positive spin on this weird regression - it's hard to be a grown up when my focus is split between normal every day life-issues and straightening the seams in my stockings...

Posted by Heather at 10:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

March 04, 2004

It Will Grow Back.

The head, neck, and shoulders massage? fabulous.

The hottie stylist? hilarious.

The barolo in the world's most delicate glass? a perfect welcoming touch.

The haircut? scary.

I feel like, well, basically, yesterday I'm dating Frank Sinatra, the next, I'm working for Roman Polanski. Too bad he wasn't around to do the photo styling - I present: the Picture Picture Spring 2004 Bad Haircut:

Posted by Heather at 11:58 PM | Comments (10) | TrackBack

March 01, 2004

oh my god. what a busy couple of weeks I've had!

yeah, I've been offline, for the most part, for the last few weeks.

after the shopaholic weekend of valentine's fun, I've hardly had a moment to recover -

1) had yet another one of those amazing first dates that goes nowhere, but leaves a delicious memory to tell other people's grandchildren. everyone should pitch a little woo every once in a while.

2) worked as an extra on the movie my producer friend is putting together. little did I know that when I said "sure, I'll kiss a girl" I'd end up making out for 14 hours with the most beautiful woman I've met in a zillion years. Thanks to this film, I am now 1 degree of separation from Kevin Bacon - yes, I was in a scene with Austin Pendleton, who was in Starting Over with Kevin Bacon. Also thanks to this film, certain local film peoples may recognize me as "bra girl" or "one of the makeout chicks". funny, how no one seemed to mistake Lance Reddick for a cop, or Mike McGlone for a Chicagoan, but you kiss one girl for a shoot and suddenly everyone's asking if the two of you are dating.

3) got in some great people-watching at a gallery opening, which seemed to be more about costumes and taking photos of one another than about anything else. (as all gallery openings should be!). Fell in love with mr christopher's work, while I was there, however, he was the only artist I didn't get to meet. picture me chagrined. too bad I didn't have a couple grand to spend on art, I'd own a new painting this very minute.

4) the combination wrap party / Oscar night bash at Frank's in Lincoln Park on Sunday was the perfect end to a fabulous few weeks - it's been a long time since I've spent the most important movie night of the year with moviemakers. Got to meet all the people I wanted to meet, hang with the lovely and talented hannah and jorge, and drink myself silly with like-minded people. Wasn't too disappointed with the results of this year's bash....johnny depp, jamie lee curtis, annie lennox, the robbins/sarandon clan looked lovely, jack black and billy crystal put the final nails in the coffin of their comedywriting (both of them people I've grown to despise...). Sean Penn was classy, and Diane Lane frightened me with her 'turning back the clock' youthful glow.

Posted by Heather at 07:22 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack