<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:47:19.828-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Exploits and Musings Of Heidi</title><subtitle type='html'>Here I will be ranting and raving, bitching and moaning (you hope I moan) about all things that define me. Hold on, it is going to be a very bumpy, sexy ride! ;)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105795728292359738</id><published>2003-07-11T17:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-11T17:01:23.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Mr. Sandman Called My Name...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I answered big time!  I slept so well last night.  I am still quite tired I have to make up for lost time so it will be a short and sweet Friday Five:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top Five Stupid Questions I have been asked in a job interview:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Are these your real marks from University?&lt;br /&gt;2. Are you married?  If not I can set you up with my son.&lt;br /&gt;3. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to get this job?(the person who asked this question was reported to the police and thus fired.  I received his job two weeks later.  haha)&lt;br /&gt;4. Now that I have your phone number, may I call you sometime?&lt;br /&gt;5. Are you SURE these are your REAL marks from University?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105795728292359738?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105795728292359738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105795728292359738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105795728292359738' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105776812608190390</id><published>2003-07-09T12:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-09T12:28:46.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Setting the Record Straight&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has come to my attention that someone has asked me if I DO do things to get attention, in particular, my yahoo profile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me set this straight.  I have changed my yahoo profile.  It does not matter WHAT I say or do, I will still get attention.  I always have gotten attention in my life as well as online.  I HAVE TOLD YOU before, I can go out here in sweat pants, a baseball cap and all my hair up under it and I will STILL get more attention than any woman who is dressed up and looking good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same goes for online.  If I am in a chat room and not even TALKING but TYPING, I still get people paying attention to me.  If you think for one minute, the stuff I wrote on my profile, the picture I had on it, or the link I had on my profile changes anything, you are sorely mistaken.  My WHOLE life I have always had attention whether I wanted it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because I go into a chat room does NOT mean I am looking for PM's or someone to pay attention to me.  I go in there to talk to my surrogate mommy.  Most of the time I am messaging her and talking to her.  NO ONE that I talk to in a chat room has pictures of me.  Your sense of what is right and what is not is getting blurry.  YOU already know A) what I look like, B) the way that I am C) my background.  You think that people know all of this and instantly fall for me.  Not true.  People that come and go in a chat room DO NOT get to know the real me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me to change anything is compromising who I am.  I have been this way for a long time, I am a sexual being, I do have a vibrant and engaging personality.  People pick up on that REGARDLESS.  I have always been unique and not like other people, which people can see and that is why they try to engage in conversation with me.  I do not talk to them about personal and private things.  I do not try to 'meet them'.  If you would just for one minute talk to my surrogate mom, she would set the record straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of my rant, if that does not get my point across I don't know what will.  I made this broccoli salad this morning.  It is one of my favorite things.  You take a good full head of broccoli and cut it up into small, bite size pieces.  Then grate about 1cup of sharp cheddar cheese and dice up 1 cup of onions.  Then take about 1/2 a cup of miracle whip, dash of mustard, dash of milk and about a teaspoon of sugar and mix that together for a salad dressing.  Pour that on top and mix until it is evenly covered.  Voila!  It tastes sooo good.  I am eating that right now for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping this afternoon will be better.  It would be nice to be able to get one night's sleep.  I didn't sleep at all last night.  My work is suffering from my lack of sleep.  Things need to change...NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105776812608190390?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105776812608190390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105776812608190390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105776812608190390' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105767922018457053</id><published>2003-07-08T11:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-08T11:47:00.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Some Things Never Change&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late last night I got a phone call my friend's back home. Steve (I have to meet your boyfriend he sounds quite yummy!), Kelly (What?s going on girl? We HAVE to talk!), Spencer (Don't want no short dick man....remember that??? LMAO), Justin (You have to teach me some new dance moves) and Kim (how is Lena? How are the wedding plans going?) all called me through a myriad of three way calls to all say hey and that they miss me. I cried when they called, I miss them all SOOOOO MUCH! I am planning on getting back and seeing them all again very soon. We talked about everything and I caught them up on what was going on with me and they caught me up on the latest happenings there. I should probably give some background on these friends. The first night I was legal to get into a bar, the FIRST  bar I ever went in was this gay bar that we used to hang out in. It was the BEST time I have EVER had in a bar. It was the first time I ever had Jell-O shots and the first time I had ever really seen the whole 'gay scene'. These people have stuck by me since then and have been wonderful friends. I totally miss you guys, I WILL be coming back to party and we WILL have to hit the bar again. Thanks to all of you for the phone call, keep in touch and I will do the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PEOPLE, PEOPLE, PEOPLE, one last time okay...DO NOT CALL ME IN THE MORNING UNLESS YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE! I got a call at 5 this morning, after being on the phone last night till about 2am! Do ya think I was happy to get it? Now you can tell me I should turn my ringer off. I keep it on JUST IN CASE someone calls me with an emergency. So I get this call, mind you it was from a friend that I have not talked to in ages, but still. I was in a foul mood for the first 5 minutes of the conversation and I didn't know where I was. I was having a wonderful dream. I was dreaming that I was in this field of tall grass, running like the wind, and Randy was chasing me. Then he tackled me and put my arms above my head and kissed me all over my face and then on my lips. It was a sunny day in the dream, NO clouds at all. The song in the background was the song from Ferris Beuller's Day Off when Sloan and Ferris were in the museum. The song is called "Please Let Me Get What I Want" by Dream Academy. I adore that song. Now you can understand why I was not amused when I was woken up from that dream! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight...I will be turning my ringer off.  If any of you have emergencies, you'll have to deal on your own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105767922018457053?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105767922018457053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105767922018457053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105767922018457053' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105759194202398901</id><published>2003-07-07T11:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-07T11:32:21.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Episode 1: Attack of the Hellish Personal Trainer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On his last ditch effort, he pushes the limits and bounds of sanity...this is...his last hope...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter: Heidi, ready to do cardio...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter: Personal Trainer, who follows Heidi around like a pathetic puppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes it's that time again, I have been going to the gym on a regular basis, going to Pilates class and also doing cardio/weight training.  There is a trainer there who does not take no for an answer and who thinks he is God's Gift.  Let me tell you something, even if you were the last man on earth, I would never date you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept trying to talk to me and tell me that he could see results and blah blah blah. Finally I got fed-the-fuck-up, and told him AGAIN that I DO NOT come to the gym to socialize, I go there to do work and then leave. So then the idiot says to me "How 'bout leaving with me after your work out?" I just gave him this "boy are you fucking dumb" look and told him no and to leave me alone.  I felt like getting my pair of Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals with the 4 inch heel and lodging it deep inside his skull.  Shawna was with me and I  was sure she was going to pee her pants cause of the funny scene this was creating, although I was not amused. This guy has been following me around and trying really hard, since I started going there. By now you would think he would get it through his thick skull that I am not interested. &lt;br /&gt;End of Episode 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally unrelated subject, I have been re-watching Sex and the City, I believe it was the third season they are repeating on TV.  I am really disgusted with the way that Carrie (Sarah Jessica's character) is behaving.  She cheated on Aidan, who to me is the epitome of an amazing guy, with her ex Mr. Big who is an asshole.  Aidan had broken up with her and subsequently took her back after he found out she was cheating.  Then Big has problems with his girlfriend and calls Carrie to come and see her and talk to her about HIS NEW relationship problems.  Carrie is in the country with Aidan at HIS country home, and SHE invites Big to come there and talk to her.  Wait...am I missing something here?  How dumb is that notion?  The problem is, is that I believe that women will watch this show and believe that it is all right to do what Carrie has done and it's all right because you can have your ex and your new BF in your life.  Well, it doesn't work that way, it is wrong that they are even talking after the crap she put Aidan (the nice guy) through.  It really bothers me because this does not only happen on screen it happens in reality as well.  If there is one thing I do not tolerate, it is cheating.  I hear women and men all the time talking about they could have someone on the side and their partner would never know.   I do not understand how one can claim they love someone and then turn around and do the most intimate act with someone else and still claim they love their partner.  Why be involved with someone in the first place if you can't keep it in your pants?  I truly believe that there is only 1% of the population that can be monogamous.  I do not believe that men were meant to be married or commited to one person.  I do not believe that they are able to do that, I believe that gene is missing in their genetic makeup.  You cannot have your cake and eat it too.  If you want to screw around with a multitude of women, then don't marry someone, or be seriously involved with someone.  It only causes heartbreak in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105759194202398901?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105759194202398901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105759194202398901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105759194202398901' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105736926035727834</id><published>2003-07-04T21:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-04T21:41:00.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Friday Five-Top Five Songs To Have Sex To&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I Wanna Know-Joe  Slow and sensual, R&amp;B it is good to feel the bump and grind.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Purple Rain-Prince  I know this song might sound like a corny choice, but it has always gotten me in the mood and made me feel sexy.  I enjoy starting it out with a slow, sensual strip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Clair De Lune-Debussy  It is my favorite classical piano song and it is perfect for when you want to be close and romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. St. Louise Is Listening-Soul Coughing  The beat is amazing, it is edgy and for the more hardcore times when you want to get raunchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Waiting 4 Stars 2 Fall-Ottmar Liebert  This song is very powerful and moving and intense, good for LONG intense sexual sessions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*This list was compiled with the help of Randy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Darrin’s continued hateful and hurtful attempts to sabotage my relationship with Randy, he verbally attacked one of the nicest men I have had the honor of knowing.  Especially when he has nothing to do with the situation, he has been nothing but honest and loyal.  Darrin’s actions towards me are typical to society today; everyone else is to blame and no one stops to look at themselves to see when they are the one to blame.  Typically the “Me” generation as Randy puts it is never to blame and always what’s in it for me no matter how much someone else will be hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supposedly last night, while I was having sex with Darrin on the staircase (we meet there for our supposed affairs frequently), Randy and I were on the phone and I was having, amazingly enough some of the best sex I have ever had in my life.  Someone once said you can’t miss what you haven’t had, and they are right.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately Darrin realises NOW what he is missing out on, too little to late.  When you break someone down over the years and TRY desperately to pull something back together, hurting my friends and boyfriend in the process, it just destroys ANY chance we would ever have of being friends.  Sucks to be you hunny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105736926035727834?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105736926035727834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105736926035727834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105736926035727834' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105715964476464177</id><published>2003-07-02T11:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-02T11:27:24.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Don't Mess With the Wicked Bitch of the West&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the moment I got up this morning I knew today was going to be hell.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had turned off my ringer last night because I didn't want to deal with any more bullshit.  This morning I woke to find a few messages on my machine.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, I hate being played for the fool.  If you lie to me, I will find out, I have my ways.  If you don't tell me the WHOLE story, I will find out as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given people many chances to redeem themselves only to no avail.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wouldn't  be so bad if these were people I did not care about or have time invested in them.  It wouldn't be so bad if I did not care about any of you, but because I do it hurts me that there would be half truths and lies going around.  I have always said the one thing that I will not tolerate is being played for a fool.  And it is now time to do some spring cleaning and get rid of some people who have been in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a totally unrelated subject  last night I  watched this documentary called Eyes. It is by a new director his name is David Ostry. It was just amazing and very moving. I loved the simplicity of it. It was extreme close ups of people's eyes, from all different age groups and ethnicities and they would talk about their lives, like the eyes tell the story. It made me cry at how beautiful and touching it was. If I could get it on DVD I would however it's a 15 minute documentary and probably not readily available. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up early this morning and drove to the top of this hill and took pictures of the fog lifting, I hope they turn out.  The fog was wrapped around the trees and made everything look like it was in a shrowd of mystery.  Funny how sometimes life imitates art and vice versa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105715964476464177?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105715964476464177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105715964476464177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105715964476464177' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105711252995448195</id><published>2003-07-01T22:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-07-01T22:22:09.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Why Do Men Bullshit?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean seriously...why?  They KNOW they're going to be found out, yet they tell you a lie right to your face.  WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am NOT referring to ALL men, the majority yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have any thoughts on this PLEASE mail me.  I would love to know, or comment in the comments section.  I am sick of being lied to regardless of who it is that is doing the lying.   Believe me, what goes around comes around and you will get yours honey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105711252995448195?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105711252995448195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105711252995448195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_07_01_archive.html#105711252995448195' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105677154576620670</id><published>2003-06-27T23:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-27T23:43:39.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;OHHHH this is kewl!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pornstarguru.com/page.php?x=278848&amp;m=1"&gt;Click here once a day!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105677154576620670?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105677154576620670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105677154576620670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105677154576620670' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105677071049155357</id><published>2003-06-27T23:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-27T23:25:10.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/F/frozenebony/1048039075_pRACHELSB2.jpg" border="0" alt="Exotic Dancer"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You're Exotic Dancer Barbie.  You have some moves,&lt;br&gt;and will do anything for a few bucks.  Take it&lt;br&gt;off girl, but keep it PG-13 please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/frozenebony/quizzes/If%20You%20Were%20A%20Barbie%2C%20Which%20Messed%20Up%20Version%20Would%20You%20Be%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105677071049155357?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105677071049155357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105677071049155357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105677071049155357' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105673437393372235</id><published>2003-06-27T13:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-27T13:19:33.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Firday Five-Worst Pick Up Lines That Have Been Used On Me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  They should change the alphabet and put "U" and "I" together.&lt;br /&gt;(CORNY)&lt;br /&gt;2. Your Daddy must be a robber cause he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;(BLECH)&lt;br /&gt;3. Do you have a quarter?  I was supposed to call my mom the moment I met the woman of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;(WHATEVER)&lt;br /&gt;4. Wouldn't we look cute together on the top of a wedding cake?&lt;br /&gt;(DOUBLE BLECH)&lt;br /&gt;5. Would you marry me?&lt;br /&gt;(Asking that as a pick up line is bound to make me BEELINE for the door)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Five Songs Making Me Dance in My Chair&lt;br /&gt;1. Everyone Falls In Love Sometimes-Tanto Metro and Devonte&lt;br /&gt;2. Sexy Eyes-Whigfield&lt;br /&gt;3. Around The World-Daft Punk&lt;br /&gt;4. Breathe-Telepopmusik&lt;br /&gt;5. Boom Boom Boom-69 Boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105673437393372235?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105673437393372235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105673437393372235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105673437393372235' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105664182174949881</id><published>2003-06-26T11:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-26T11:37:01.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Q &amp; A period&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been doing much of anything of interest so I am going to answer a few questions that I have been asked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What is one of your most embarassing moments while stripping?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-Tegan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had quite a few moments; I once was dancing and saw my anthropology professor watching and he actually paid to have a lap dance with me (kinda slimy huh?).  I have had many others, but two of my worst moments happened on the same night at almost the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The club I danced in was kind of small; it was more of a gentleman's club rather than a strip joint.  Oh, and just for those of you who have asked, yes the club I worked in was a totally nude club not just a topless place.  Anyway, I was up on stage, dancing to MY song "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails, getting right into it, using the poles, doing splits; the usual stripper stuff.  There was a rowdy table of guys, making comments, acting silly, obviously totally drunk.  I moved over to that side of the stage where their table was at and started to try to get them to calm down some or they would have been kicked out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed onto the pole and spun myself upside down and did the splits, bascially if you can picture it, you could see everything.  All of a sudden I hear a voice yelling "oh jesus christ!  Get me the fuck out of here, that's my niece!!!"  I looked up in horror, and sure enough it was my favorite uncle (Tom) seeing a little more than he bargained for of his niece.  I wanted to die, he wanted to die.  He was covering his eyes the whole time.  I went to push myself upright and because I was nervous, embarassed, I am not sure what it was, I ended up, how can I put this delicately or not...I let out the loudest fart you could ever imagine coming from a woman.  I was mortified.  I ran off the stage and left for the night, I just wanted to shrivel up and die.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one in my family knew what I was doing to support myself through college, so that was quite the shock of his life to find it out that way.  Poor fellow.  We laugh about it now, but back then, it was probably the most embarassing moment of mine and his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How did you acquire the nick name "Trouble" when you were younger?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-Paul&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny you should ask.  I got this nick name when I was 19.  My first year at university of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Frosh Week and of course it was a week of chaos, mayhem and PARTYING!  We had what is called a bar crawl the 3rd night of the week.  That meant going to all the fun bars in the city having a drink at each one in a short time span.  I found all of this to be a lot of fun cause I came from a SMALL town and there was never anything to do there.&lt;br /&gt;We finally had hit all the bars and settled at the last and most fun place for the night.  I was quite drunk (big surprise back then *NOT*).  I noticed at this place there was a mechanical bull you could ride for free.   I had never ridden one before and thought in my drunken stupor that I was gonna be Miss Rodeo Queen 1995.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went up to this hottie senior who was taking us froshes around to the bars.  I grabbed him and told him that we was getting on the bull with me.  We got on the bull with me sitting in front.  The thing started up and I could barely hold on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my hips started rocking, and my ass kept coming up off the bull and every time I would come back down, I would end up planted right in the guy's lap/crotch area.  I guess the friction and rubbing got to him cause when it was over he had a hard on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So be being the fabulous drunken idiot that I can be, I proceeded to tell anyone who would listen that the guy was hard from the ride and that he was hung like a hamster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say he found out about my terrible review of his *AHEM* manhood and came up to me and offered me a shooter as a truce.  I took it and asked what kind it was he said it was called a "monkey brain."  Let me tell you this thing looked completely disgusting.  It was Khalua (or however that is spelled), grenadine and something else, however it looked like the Khalua had curdled in this concoction.  I was drunk, it was free booze so I gulped it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I was done, hung like a hamster guy said I should ride the bull alone this time cause it would be more fun alone.  I am sure you can see where I am going with this.&lt;br /&gt;I got back on the bull, people started to crowd around and watch.  The bull started up again and I could hear and feel my stomach churning.  I was yelling frantically for them to stop the bull but because the bar was so loud there was no way anyone could hear me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know I am projectile vomiting all over, some of it hitting the floor, some hitting the people standing around.  It was mortifying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope these give you a giggle today, laughing at my expense ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105664182174949881?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105664182174949881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105664182174949881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105664182174949881' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105647786937052514</id><published>2003-06-24T14:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-24T14:04:29.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Child In Me Came Out Last Night&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know how to speak to you, I don't know how to trust you.  I don't know how to live for you, I don't know how to love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting here looking out the window and listening to this song.  Unfortunately it is by Milla Jovovich, but those words just hit me.  It got me thinking, that is very much like me.  I have a hard time letting down all my walls, and maybe I don't know how to love someone properly, because it was never taught to me as a child.  All the events that have lead me to the point I am now, if I took them all seriously, I should be cut throat and mean because that is mostly what I have seen my whole life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insomnia attack again last night.  It was 2am and I was bored and wide-freaking awake so I hit the music.  I am a HUGE 80's fans so Whitesnake, Motley Crew, Honeymoon Suite, Kiss, among others could be heard by my neighbors.  It was a total riot.  I reverted back to being a kid.  I hopped up on my bed and started jumping up and down on it singing to "Sister Christian" at the top of my lungs.  By the end of this, I was laughing so hard I nearly peed my pants.  I slept about 2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have figured out that when I am finished work I am usually tired enough to sleep for a few hours.  I generally work early hours and am home early enough.  The problem is is that I am naturally a night person so waking up for work is always hard in the morning.  I hit my snooze alarm about 5 times before I get out of bed.  If I could go into work just a touch later, that might help.  My ideal time to work would be afternoons, I am alert and in a good mood then.  I come into work in the morning and I am the wicked bitch of the west.  That's all right though, I have been told I am one of the easiest people to work for and that suits me just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105647786937052514?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105647786937052514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105647786937052514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105647786937052514' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105641113843660800</id><published>2003-06-23T19:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-23T19:32:18.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Insomnia attacks!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been sleeping well for over a week now.  I have had bouts of this since the age of three when the abuse began.  I had a bit of a nap when I got home from work, but I feel even more tired than when I went to sleep.  I wake myself up talking and moving around.  In case you're wondering, no I do not drink any caffiene before bed (in fact, I rarely have caffiene period).  I don't eat before bed, nor do any strenuous exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not overly stressed, just the usual stuff.  I have a good job, so I am not worried about money, things are flowing smoothly (for the most part).  It could just be that my body just doesn't need the sleep like it did when it was cold and frigid here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The insomnia I have suffered from the age of 3 usually occurrs for about a month and then I need to sleep for a whole day and am usually fine.  Possibly, I am rehashing the abuse I suffered and trying to get a handle on my emotions.  Someone had said for me to get away from everything and things will change...well, I cannot get away from the thoughts and feelings and I cannot get away from ME.  That saying "no matter where you go, there you are" is fitting.  This is just something I have to work on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another person might say to me "just let it go."  Yes it was in the past; what you do not understand is that it was a way of life for me for 15 years.  I was programmed to be the person I was for this man.  In a way...deprogramming might be in order because I do not feel like myself.  I am not sure how one is supposed to feel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here, at this minute, hallucinating.  I see people running by out of the corner of my eye.  A few minutes ago, I hallucinated that the grim reaper was standing beside me.  Yes it's that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried home remedies, the warm milk makes me gag.  I do not want to go get a shot of something because as soon as it wears off I will be back to the way I am now.  I just think this is another attack from when I was younger and it will subside.  Oh the wonderous things you suffer after being abused.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of the pity party.  I am listening to music right now on winamp...here is the next five songs that are soothing my soul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Life In Mono-Mono&lt;br /&gt;2. Heart and Soul-T'Pau&lt;br /&gt;3. Electric Blue-Icehouse&lt;br /&gt;4. Will Of The Wind-Kenny Loggins&lt;br /&gt;5. Drive-The Cars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105641113843660800?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105641113843660800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105641113843660800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105641113843660800' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105638399807499550</id><published>2003-06-23T11:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-23T11:59:58.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Words To Live By...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while back, someone close to me gave me what I call the words to live by.  He was a very wise person, taken away too soon.  I carry these around in my wallet and have for almost ten years now.  When I feel like I want to give up or when things get me down I read this.  It is called Desiderata written by Max Ehrmann.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desiderata&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go placidly amid the noise and haste, &lt;br /&gt;and remember what peace there may be in silence. &lt;br /&gt;As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. &lt;br /&gt;Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others,&lt;br /&gt;even to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.&lt;br /&gt;Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter,&lt;br /&gt;for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. &lt;br /&gt;Keep interested in your own career, however humble, &lt;br /&gt;it's a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. &lt;br /&gt;But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; &lt;br /&gt;many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; &lt;br /&gt;for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,&lt;br /&gt;it is as perennial as the grass.&lt;br /&gt;Take kindly the counsel of the years, &lt;br /&gt;gracefully surrendering the things of youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. &lt;br /&gt;But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. &lt;br /&gt;Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. &lt;br /&gt;Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars;&lt;br /&gt;you have a right to be here.&lt;br /&gt;And whether or not it is clear to you,&lt;br /&gt;no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be.&lt;br /&gt;And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life,&lt;br /&gt;keep peace in your soul.&lt;br /&gt;With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Desiderata" was written by Max Ehrmann (1872-1945)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105638399807499550?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105638399807499550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105638399807499550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105638399807499550' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105612325793338190</id><published>2003-06-20T11:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-20T11:34:17.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Friday Five-Weird Questions I Have Been Asked When I Have Gone Out On Dates&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;em&gt;What's under your bed right now?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have told them the body of my ex boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;em&gt;Would you rather have a huge pimple on your face for the rest of your life, or would you rather have to listen to Kathy Lee Gifford forever?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUH???? I never answered that question and left the guy sitting there about 5 minutes after he asked me this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;em&gt;If you could be a rock, what kind would you be and why?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean are these guys FOR REAL?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;em&gt;Do you think these pants make me look fat?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES I seriously had a man ask me that...n'uff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;em&gt;Would you like to see my collection of women's underwear I have collected from my ex's?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UH NO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What were they thinking???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105612325793338190?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105612325793338190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105612325793338190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105612325793338190' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105605559844352815</id><published>2003-06-19T16:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-19T16:46:38.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Long Time Gone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been running around like a mad woman today.  When the shit hits the fan with me, it really hits it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a few people quit today so I have been scrambling to find more people to fill the positions.  Luckily (and with some referrals from my assistant), I was able to fill all three positions before leaving work.  I was actually quite pleased to have those people quit.  I had been wanting to turn the office into a friendlier, kinder place.  Mission accomplished!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been sleeping well lately.  I have been talking myself awake.  I think I am stressed out, about what, I have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell asleep at my desk this afternoon and only woke up when my assistant came in and stubbed her toe on the coffee table.  She began swearing like a sailor and it was only then I woke up and was blushing like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a phone call from my biological father just as I got home today.  He called to ask me how I was doing and wanted to help me out with a few things.  I don't see how he could do that.  I told him he SHOULD have been around when I was little when I really needed his help.  He should have been there instead of abandoning me like he is so good at.  He tried to pull off the guilt trip on me, telling me he had a heartattack and whatnot.  I really don't care.  I told him to basically fuck off.  SO he pulled the old "you are out of the will" routine on me.  I told him I never expected anything from him anyway because the guy has never given me a dime.  He never paid a fucking dime in child support, he never gave me presents...nothing.  Every birthday, Christmas, easter, everything went by without a phone call or a present.  Why should I even believe him or care now that he SAYS he wants to be a part of my life.   But you know what I would have wanted more than anything monetary from this man?  I would have given anything (BEFORE NOT NOW CAUSE I DON'T CARE NOW) to hear him say to me "Heidi, you mean something to me, you are my daugher and I love you."  That is all I wanted from him.  He will never realise that...ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105605559844352815?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105605559844352815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105605559844352815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105605559844352815' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105594916588495727</id><published>2003-06-18T11:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-18T11:12:45.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;YO MAMMA!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got ripped on this morning.  Men here who have dated me or want to date me are being pansy asses now and talking smack about Randy and about me and my family.  Listen, I know I don't have family, so why would ripping into me on that bother me?  I think it's pretty low that someone would stoop to that level just because I do not want to go out with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One such person is Gary.  I think your wife, or soon to be ex wife would like to know that you have been chasing me ever since you two got married.  She would probably like to know too that on July 5, 2001, you came to where I worked, parked your SUV in the work parking lot and begged me on your knees to come home with you because your wife was back home visiting her family for the weekend and I quote 'the blonde bimbo will never find out.'  She'll never find out huh?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to me, I have changed a lot from the person that I once was.  I used to let people walk all over me and I used to be hurt by things people would say.  I just realize now &lt;em&gt;WHY&lt;/em&gt;people say what they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, I heard from my cousin.  He recently got engaged.  I used to go to school with his fiancee and I think they will be coming up here to visit me.  She said she has something important to discuss with me regarding the wedding.  I have an idea but I won't say what just yet! ;)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105594916588495727?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105594916588495727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105594916588495727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105594916588495727' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105589773965344694</id><published>2003-06-17T20:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-17T20:55:40.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;My Wishlist!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click the links to see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fredericks.com/product.asp?catalog%5Fname=Holiday2002&amp;category%5Fname=Short+Dresses&amp;product%5Fid=20409"&gt;YUM!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fredericks.com/product.asp?catalog%5Fname=Holiday2002&amp;category%5Fname=Pants+and+Jumpsuits&amp;product%5Fid=20574"&gt;Peek-a-Boo!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fredericks.com/product.asp?catalog%5Fname=Holiday2002&amp;category%5Fname=Basic+Tops&amp;product%5Fid=74096"&gt;funky!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fredericks.com/product.asp?catalog%5Fname=Holiday2002&amp;category%5Fname=Boyleg+Panties&amp;product%5Fid=50590"&gt;I LOVE these and I need more!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105589773965344694?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105589773965344694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105589773965344694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105589773965344694' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105589655708950308</id><published>2003-06-17T20:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-17T20:35:57.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I Love the Finger!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was out of town for the day, I went shopping at this outlet store, discounted prices with name brand clothing.  Like, you can get CK stuff for $20.  Anyway I went to the shoe department (of course) and was rummaging through shoes when I feasted my eyes on the most amazing pair of shoes.  Last year's hot pink Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals.  I looked up at the ceiling of the store, wishing, NO, begging that they would be discounted beyond belief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned the shoe over (it was my size, 7),  normally these shoes would run about $500.  I looked at the price tag, since they were last year's collection the price was even better!  I bought them for $100 tax included.  That was too good to pass up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON a totally different subject, yahoo messenger has created some dirty emoticons.  I love the one giving the finger!  It is my favorite.  If you have Yahoo Messenger, you can download the emoticons &lt;a href="http://www.zakie.fsnet.co.uk/ChatRoomsStuff/Faces/newfaces/xratedfacesxxx/xratedfaces.htm"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I notice some of you have sent me e-mails asking me to get Randy to write again, believe me, I have asked him to.  When he has time he will write another entry for my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Tuesday everyone!  We all could use a boost today I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105589655708950308?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105589655708950308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105589655708950308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105589655708950308' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105577916044072844</id><published>2003-06-16T11:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-16T11:59:20.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Stupid people need not apply&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get to work this morning.  I get a phone call, it was a man on the line.  He asks if there are any positions available to work here.  I told him no that this is a shelter for women, men cannot work here.  He then asked me why not?  Do I REALLY have to explain why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have NO patience for stupid people.  BIG pet peeve of mine as you know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why some people are afraid to tell me things, and they are not bad things just things about them.  Let me tell everyone, there is nothing that you could say that can shock me.  I like you people, otherwise I wouldn't be talking to you.  So PLEASE, don't skirt around the issue, that drives me nuts, just come out and tell me whatever it is you need to tell me.  I hate having to drag something out of someone, or sit there and wait for an hour till you tell me something.  I am not going to judge you, or think you are weird or whatever.  No need to sugar coat anything, just tell me.  That is another peeve of mine, FYI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Tegan and I were driving around yesterday we started asking each other silly questions.  One of the questions she asked me was 'what is one of my skeleton's in my closet?'  Well I am gonna post the answer now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the answer for this question is that when I was 22, I went and stayed with my mother for about a week.  While I was there I did two things I am not entirely proud of.  The first was I stole $50 from her so that I could go out partying.  The second was that while she was out at a meeting I dragged a guy into her house (somewhat of a stranger but a total hottie) and had sex with him on her bed.  Okay judge me now if you must!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later (maybe).  I am in need of some food!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105577916044072844?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105577916044072844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105577916044072844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105577916044072844' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105572092630409497</id><published>2003-06-15T19:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-15T19:48:46.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;A Little Road Trip&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just got back from being at Tegan's.  Well actually we sat there for a while and talked and gossiped and then I said "wanna go for a drive?"  So we got into my Tiburon and drove.  We ended up going to this small town (of about 3000 people) and took a back road and just kept driving.  We didn't see any signs of life, till the road ended and there was a Lodge filled with old, druken, toothless, funny men and a few old, toothless women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we walked in there we knew we didn't fit in, it just felt like we stepped back in time.  There was an old man sitting at a table by himself, looked to be about 100 years old, drinking beer through a straw.  He told us a bazillion stories of "when I was younger..."  He also apologized for not having any teeth, he thinks he lost them in the lake when he was swimming last summer.  ooooooook&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waitress reminded me of the older waitress from the TV show Alice.  She kept calling us honey, sweetie, etc etc.  She cracked her gum all the time too.  The food was amazing though, it usually is in Lodges like that.  I love going to places off the beaten trail.  You never know what you are gonna get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105572092630409497?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105572092630409497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105572092630409497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105572092630409497' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105569010014907528</id><published>2003-06-15T11:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-15T11:15:00.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Damned if I know!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Father's Day to all the dad's out there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to pull apart my computer this morning to get the little nubben thta had broken off my mic inside my computer, turns out though that the piece is stuck in an enclosed portion of my computer so I am going to have to bring it back to where I got it from, hopefully they can pry it out.  I do not want to have to pay for that part.  I tried to stick in tweezers to get it out, believe me there were curse words flying outta my mouth, I am going to hell for sure! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a really good mood today.  Last night my 'mom' and I searched for two hours to find some of our old buddies from Firetalk.  Last night we came across my little buddy (or my little bro as I used to call him, I also called him Hoser, his name is Jose).  He is hilarious and hasn't changed a bit.  We had a blast.  We are still looking for two people, one is named John, he used to go on as NOVA or Hunglikeahamster.  Also the other is Angie, she used to go on as Fireyone.  Maybe they will find this page somehow and get a hold of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more later, right now I got a little of the old in out in out to take care of ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105569010014907528?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105569010014907528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105569010014907528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105569010014907528' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105561289223159935</id><published>2003-06-14T13:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-14T13:48:55.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;THANKS MOM!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like it's Christmas in June!  I just got a care package from my 'mommy'.  There was tons of fun stuff in it.  She is a very crafty lady and sent me this peasant blouse she had made for me a few years ago when we lost touch.  It is sooo pretty, she embroidered tiny flowers on it around the collar, it is pink in color and I am wearing it right now cause it is hotter than hell here today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also made me a cook book that she made of all her 'home made' recipes.  The cover is made out of wood and covered over with an old pair of jeans that were cut.  The pocket is on the back cover so that she said if I have any other recipes I can stick them in there.  On the front cover she used a glitter pen and wrote "My Heidi's Cookbook."  It was such a sweet gesture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got a picture of her in a frame that she dressed up with plastic butterflies.  I love butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other odds and ends she sent: some staionery, pens (the gel ink roller ball kind, I have a passion for pens and writing!), some spices, some patchouli incense (I love patchouli), some prism color nail polish, when you put it on your nails it has many different colors in it like blue, pink and silver and it is glittery, also she sent me a Playgirl magazine AND a Penthouse magazine.  LOL what a nut!  Some very yummy pics in both though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also sent me a card, that says on the front "For a Very Loving Daughter."  Of course when I started to read that I ended up crying.  Thank you so much for all of this, I will treasure it always, just as I treasure you being back in my life. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105561289223159935?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105561289223159935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105561289223159935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105561289223159935' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105556254805810478</id><published>2003-06-13T23:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-13T23:50:12.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;...My Cheeks Hurt!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had the bestest conversation with my surrogate mommy on the phone!  We talked for 5 hours!!!!  We caught up on everything and strolled down memory lane quite a bit.  She is such a packrat, she actually printed out and kept old conversations that we had had on Yahoo and ICQ.  She read them and we laughed so hard, we were both such drama queens!  I laughed so hard my cheeks are hurting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dancing around the room, if you have never experienced something like this before, you have no idea the elation that I am feeling right now.  For me, I feel like I have my mother back.  I know I can't replace my real mom and wouldn't want to, but my 'mommy' has taught me how to love and be loved, she has shown me how a mother would love her daughter; unconditionally, freely.  This woman is a godsend, truly.  If anyone has the chance to talk to her, consider yourself lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ran the gamut of emotions, from cackling with laughter to bawling like babies.  She told me something tonight that just hit me and the tears started flowing she said 'Heidi, if I could adopt you I would in a minute.  You treat me better than my own.  I am truly blessed to be in your company.  I thank god you are here on this earth.  I was thinking about you when I lapsed into a depression and you are what helped to get me through.  I love you sweet Heidi.'  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is sending me a care package (just like a mom would) and she asked me if there was anything I needed.  She is overnighting the package so tomorrow I will write about the wonderful surprises that I am going to be receiving. I believe &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; am the one who is truly blessed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105556254805810478?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105556254805810478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105556254805810478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105556254805810478' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105553002594021198</id><published>2003-06-13T14:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-13T14:47:35.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Music making me boogie right now!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am listening to right now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starry Eyed Surprise by Paul Oakenfold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next 5:&lt;br /&gt;1. The Freshman-The Verve Pipe&lt;br /&gt;2. Lola-The Kinks&lt;br /&gt;3. cheeka bow bow-The Venga Boys&lt;br /&gt;4. 21 Questions-50Cent&lt;br /&gt;5. Ignition (remix)-R. Kelly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105553002594021198?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105553002594021198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105553002594021198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105553002594021198' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105552327332610139</id><published>2003-06-13T12:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-13T12:54:33.193-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I JUST FOUND MY SURROGATE MOMMY!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am weeping tears of joy!  About 4 years ago, there was an internet chat program out called Firetalk.  You could go into chatrooms and voice chat with everyone in each room.  I met her on there and became so close with her.  She is like a mother to me.  She helped me through so much and always had amazing advice and love for me.  My family and I were never close and this wonderful woman took me in and cared for me.  I am forever greatful to her.  I just found her on yahoo messenger!!! I am so excited!  I can barely see the screen right now I am just flooded with emotion, tears and happiness.  This is the awesomest Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105552327332610139?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105552327332610139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105552327332610139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105552327332610139' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105552296148049448</id><published>2003-06-13T12:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-13T12:49:21.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Higlights and lowlights&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I need to do some 'splainin!  My ex had written in the letter that he was going to write a letter to Randy and tell him that I was 'major horny' and he was going to tell him that he took me on the stairwell in the apartment building (YEAH RIGHT he wishes!)  He had it good when he had me but he made a conscious decision to fuck that up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other humorous notings in his letter...he said that once Randy is out of my life he KNOWS I will get back with him.  He also said that he would be willing to "eat the peanuts out of my shit" because he loves me so much.  Don't give me any ideas!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the record, I WILL NEVER get back together with you.  How could I?  I could never trust you.  I said it was over the day I caught you in bed with my best friend.  What part of IT'S OVER don't you get?  What a maroon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105552296148049448?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105552296148049448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105552296148049448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105552296148049448' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105551883215314736</id><published>2003-06-13T11:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-13T11:44:57.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Friday Five-My Top 5 Pet Peeves&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. People who drive slow in the fast lane.  What the hell are you in that lane for?  To look cool?  I am a heavy horn honker and a big fan of the finger when I get behind those kinds of drivers.  &lt;br /&gt;2. Alarm clocks.  They are a cruel joke on a Monday morning.  N'uff said.&lt;br /&gt;3. Watching people or myself, licking a popscicle stick.  It makes me feel all yucky but you HAVE to get everything off the stick cause it is just sooo good.  EEWWwww I am shivering now just thinking about it!  &lt;br /&gt;4. Stupid people.  I have no patience for them.  If you have no brain I don't have time for you.  Sound concieted?  Sorry, just can't stand that.  Case in point, yesterday we were at the mall and this couple was there and the woman was blonde (sorry to offend anyone), and they were looking at a DVD player.  I swear to you this is the truth, the blonde was examining it and she said "where do the tapes go in?"  Her BF or husband looked at her and said "no honey this is a DVD player not a VCR."  She giggled and looked at him and said "No seriously where do the tapes go in?"  I had to walk away because I was busting a gut listening to them.&lt;br /&gt;5. People who tell me the only reason I am where I am today is cause of my looks.  People who have no imagination.  People who are closed minded.  I think that sums it all up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105551883215314736?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105551883215314736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105551883215314736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105551883215314736' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105551760003808142</id><published>2003-06-13T11:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-13T11:20:09.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Poetry for dummies written by a dummy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ex is at it again, last night, while I was chatting it up with Randy, another letter was slipped under my door.  Twenty-five pages, front and back.  Randy and I were reading the highlights, when I came across a few poems that he wrote.  Let me share the first poem that made me have fits of laughter.  I was laughing so hard I was crying.  You can see for yourself how pathetic this is: *Cue the really cornball soap opera music*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your love flows through me&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly everything makes sense&lt;br /&gt;My life is real&lt;br /&gt;Because you made everything commence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll never know how much I love you&lt;br /&gt;Words cannot express&lt;br /&gt;Without you in my life&lt;br /&gt;I would be a total mess&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UHM I thought you already were a total mess...normal people don't write 25 page letters when someone has told you to LEAVE THEM ALONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second poem is where he tries to get philosophical and just ends up writing a jumbled mess.  *Cue pathetic music again*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every time we say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;A silent tear is heard from within&lt;br /&gt;Life is forgotten&lt;br /&gt;And shades of black crowd in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emptiness surrounds the black&lt;br /&gt;Only to have fear begin&lt;br /&gt;Love seems not enough&lt;br /&gt;If only eternity for a moment&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF?  Hope ya'll get as much of a laugh out of these as Randy and I did.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105551760003808142?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105551760003808142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105551760003808142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105551760003808142' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105542848580645761</id><published>2003-06-12T10:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-12T10:34:45.710-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Look up in the sky...it's a bird, it's a plane...no wait, it's....SUPER BITCH!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My co-workers have taken it upon themselves to give me this lovely nickname and because of that it has spread like wildfire, to the point where everyone seems to be calling me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked into work and I heard one of them saying 'oh my god she is such a super bitch.'  Once I was settled in, I called her into my office and asked her what that was all about.  She said that she didn't know what I was talking about.  I asked her to be real with me; I don't like being played for the fool.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally she confessed, she said that I acted like I was better than everyone else, and I told people off and the truth (or what I thought was the truth) when they didn't deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked my co-worker why she took it upon herself to start this nickname and not come and talk to me to find out what has been going on and WHY I do the things I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just yesterday, a friend asked me a question and I told him he wouldn't want to know the answer from me because I will give it to him bluntly.  When he said that was fine, I told him what I thought (reluctantly).  He then blew up and hasn't talked to me since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY do people ask me for my opinion and then get mad when they KNOW what I am like and I am not going to just spew what they want to hear?  Why do people even care what I am thinking or about my opinion?  I AM NOT all that important, my opinion is NOT the be all and end all of your existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only been at work a few hours and it seems like forever.  GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105542848580645761?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105542848580645761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105542848580645761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105542848580645761' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105535689119112052</id><published>2003-06-11T14:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-11T14:41:31.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;OY VEY I was laughing so hard I think I peed my pants!  Check out these sites if you want a tickle in your tummy...oh wait just check them out CAUSE I SAID SO!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://maddox.xmission.com/"&gt;You have to check out the Crappy Children's Art; this guy is right on abouta lot of stuff!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.psychoexgirlfriend.com/"&gt;This woman is crazy, it is a compliation of phone messages she left for her 'ex'.  She goes from angry, to screaming, to crying...just listen for yourself.  Women, please take note...DO NOT DO THIS!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.radioprank.com/"&gt;Some of these pranks are priceless.  The vibrator inspector prank made me laugh so hard I cried!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105535689119112052?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105535689119112052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105535689119112052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105535689119112052' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105535504459701937</id><published>2003-06-11T14:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-11T14:10:44.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What I am listening to right now:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheryl Crow &lt;br /&gt;Strong Enough &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I feel like hell tonight&lt;br /&gt;Tears of rage I cannot fight&lt;br /&gt;I'd be the last to help you understand&lt;br /&gt;Are you strong enough to be my man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's true and nothing's right&lt;br /&gt;So let me be alone tonight&lt;br /&gt;Cause you can't change the way I am&lt;br /&gt;Are you strong enough to be my man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lie to me&lt;br /&gt;I promise I'll believe&lt;br /&gt;Lie to me&lt;br /&gt;But please don't leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a face I cannot show&lt;br /&gt;I make the rules up as I go&lt;br /&gt;It's try and love me if you can&lt;br /&gt;Are you strong enough to be my man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I've shown you that I just don't care&lt;br /&gt;When I'm throwing punches in the air&lt;br /&gt;When I'm broken down and I can't stand&lt;br /&gt;Will you be strong enough to be my man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lie to me&lt;br /&gt;I promise I'll believe&lt;br /&gt;Lie to me&lt;br /&gt;But please don't leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winamp rox!&lt;br /&gt;Next 5:&lt;br /&gt;1. Sitting Here Watching The Wheels Go Round (John Lennon)&lt;br /&gt;2. Bobcaygeon (Tragically Hip)&lt;br /&gt;3. The Child In Us (Enigma)&lt;br /&gt;4. Kissing The Day (Mandalay)&lt;br /&gt;5. St. Louise is Listening (Soul Coughing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105535504459701937?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105535504459701937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105535504459701937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105535504459701937' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105535445196785389</id><published>2003-06-11T14:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-11T14:00:53.850-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I needed a pick me up cause I had been falling down for the past few days.  Enter one loving, fun cousin named Jason.  He sent me a list of all my accomplishments and my quirkiness.  I am posting the list, not for conceited purposes just so that when I am down again I can look back at it and see that I am a pretty damn good person.  Hope you get some laughs from it too.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. She graduated High School with top honors and received the Governor General's award (it's the highest achievement that a student in high school can receive in Canada).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. She worked with homeless people in college, mostly prostitues, to get them off the streets and get them real jobs. She implemented this program called "Unhooked", and recently there was an award's benefit in her honor for the program where she received an award. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. She used to play Tenor Saxophone in the school band and played for the mayor of her town, travelled to Chicago and played in a concert there. She used to enter competitions and placed first in her category three years in a row against 25 other competitors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. She graduated from university Magna Cum Laude. (in other words the girl is scary smart).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. She was approached by Elite modelling agency to do a portfolio, and possible modelling shoots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The girl has morals, might sound hard to believe for someone who was a stripper for 4 years but she has left her sorted past behind and is getting cozy with Randy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. She used to do some silly stuff when we were growing up. My sister and Heidi grew up together, like sisters. She used to throw my sister in the clothes dryer when she pissed her off. She used to cut off her Dollie heads and throw them in the trash compactor. I'd like to say, do not piss her off, I can speak from experience. Once when heidi was 10, I had my first girlfriend over and Heidi set up a practical joke. She came to meet my girlfriend, and as she came into the room she told my girlfriend at the time that the toilet was plugged because I had taken a big dump in the toilet. She grabbed the girls hand and took her into the washroom, not 10 seconds later I hear a big splash and both of them screaming. Heidi had grabbed my girlfriend and pushed her head into the toilet bowl. LOL it is hilarious now, totally embarassing at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. She skipped 5th grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. She is highly guarded about a lot of her past and has been through so much. I can't believe she has gone through everything she has, and is still a collected, normal, decent person. She has many walls to break down, some of which I have encountered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I have met some of her past ex'es and she doesn't seem to have the best taste in men, I think she chose the men she did because she felt that was all she deserved. She is very taken with Randy and talks about him incessantly. Hopefully I will meet him someday and who knows maybe he will end up part of the family. I look forward to that because I like having someone around to shoot hoops with and just do guy stuff with. From the sounds of it, we would get along well. She deserves that. Please treat her well, she deserves that.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105535445196785389?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105535445196785389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105535445196785389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105535445196785389' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105526794884050350</id><published>2003-06-10T13:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-10T14:05:26.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I am really depressed today; Iyanla's book 'Yesterday I Cried' is appropot today.  Only not only yesterday I cried, today I have cried and cried.   I am coming to a crossroads in my life right now.  Some people just do not understand.  Yes we are human, yes we make mistakes, those are forgiven.   But don't use my past as an excuse please.   I was going to write up a long blog about reputations and labels.  I'll save that.  People have asked me what I was like when I was younger, read on if you dare!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is such a good question and I am sure I could go on and on forever about the answer for this.  I have had a very interesting, traumatic, fucked up, wild, fun life.  So many things have happened to me and continue to happen to me, I seem to be like a walking time bomb of sorts ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For starters, I was a wild child of sorts.  By the time I was 13, I had the body of a 20 year old and the devilish mystique to match.  People told me that I oozed sexuality at 13, and I heard this from some people that I never should have heard it from.  By this age, I had had my first drink, my first smoke and my first joint.  I was partying with people who were 20 years old.  I have always been drawn to older people.  Although I have some very close friends that are younger than I am, any man I have been with has been older than I.  Therefore I was sexually active at a very early age, I lost my virginity way too young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High school was a joke.  Emphasis on High, because I spent most of my high school years high as a kite.  I would go on this huge rock near the school with my friends, smoke pot and write poetry.  I think on my 9th grade report card it said I had missed 45 days first semester and 25 second semester.  I don't know how I did it though, must have pulled something out of my ass, but through out high school I made honor roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My teenage years were filled with the usual teen angst and rebellion.  I smoked and drank and took a myriad of drugs, I am sure my body is paying for it now.  Even though my teens were kind of similar to others, they were also quite different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I turned into a wild child because of the abuse I was covering up since the age of 3.  I cannot discuss it that much because of legal reasons, however I can say that I had no self esteem and no boundaries.  When your body is violated time and time again, you tend to think that you're not worth anything and that it's all right for anyone to take advantage of you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the age of 16, after partying and drinking almost on a regular basis, I lapsed into a depression.  I missed the second semester of my school year; however I was homeschooled.  It was then that I tried to commit suicide.  I took pills and slashed my wrists.  I ended up spending 2 months of that summer time in a mental ward.  I don't remember much of that time, I was so doped up.  I do remember feeling like I was not myself, and that I was up in the corner of the room looking down on my body thinking what the hell am I doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was around 15, that my first love, Jamie and I got together.  He and I had known each other since I was 3 he was 6.  We used to play doctor together all the time and play in the treehouse his mom built us.  From the age of 6 his mom used to tell me that Jamie was going to marry me and as I got older I truly believed that.  I was totally in love with him, I think there is still a piece of my heart that loves him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I have a knack for bad luck following me.  I remember it like it was yesterday...August 14, 1993, Jamie told me he had cancer, terminal cancer he told me to leave him and go live a happy life.  I could never have done that, we were engaged and I was in love.  So for about 2 months I was there in the hospital with him, through chemo, radiation, operations, everything.  I thought I could save him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On October 20, 1993, Jamie passed away while I was cradling his head in my arms, listening to and singing along to Candle in the Wind by Elton John.  That was the hardest thing I have had to go through.  I said the eulogy at his funeral I still don't know how I did it.  So if people think I have no commitment in me, and I don't stick around and fight, I DO when it is worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went through a nervous breakdown 6 months after Jamie died.  I ended up in a bug ward again.  That was when I woke the fuck up and said that I was going to take control of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went away to school, had a blast.  I was in a dorm for my first year...and partied A LOT.  If you want to know more about those partying days and stuff write me a question.  What I will say though is that I used to spend spend spend, and realised I had no funds.  I took matters into my own hands and became a stripper for the 4 years I went to university.  I was smart because I am not in debt and most of my friends still are.  Now I have a million and one stories about the stripping days, so if I want to know about those days, you'll have to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met another man while I was stripping.  I was 20 he was 30.  At 21 I was engaged again.  This time I was working on New Year's Eve, but got off work early and came home only to find him in bed with my best friend.  Yup you read that right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kicked them out, then went to work on my revenge.  I got all his clothes out of the closet, and he had nice stuff like Armani suits, and Hugo Boss crap, and I cut everything up into little pieces, put it in garbage bags by the curb, and wrote a little note saying "I hope your slut is a good seamstress."  It felt very therapeutic to do that and I will never regret that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of my years from 22-24 have involved heartache, turmoil and law suits.  Again I cannot talk about those due to legal reasons, but just to let you know I am very grounded, normal and fun.  Just ask any of my closest friends, they will tell you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105526794884050350?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105526794884050350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105526794884050350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105526794884050350' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105525801085083865</id><published>2003-06-10T11:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-10T17:56:40.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just had to share this!  Take all the quizzes below by following the link or go browse at quizilla!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/1033480624_opgangbang.jpg" border="0" alt=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;Gangbang movie! You're such a horndog! You can't&lt;br&gt;get enough sex! You've been around the block.&lt;br&gt;People might even go so far as to call you a&lt;br&gt;nympho. Chances are, you're a walking STD. Go&lt;br&gt;get tested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/markelle/quizzes/What%20kind%20of%20porno%20would%20you%20star%20in%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What kind of porno would you star in?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105525801085083865?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105525801085083865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105525801085083865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105525801085083865' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105525644084672860</id><published>2003-06-10T10:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-10T17:57:16.850-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Evil has a new face...that evil is me!!! haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I took another cool quiz (thank you again Gregory) and it seems I am more psychotic than I actually thought!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/A/anglepoiselamp/1053127207_dostotalex.jpg" border="0" alt="Clockwork Alex"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You are Alex from A Clockwork Orange.&lt;br /&gt;You are just a wee little schoolboy who enjoys&lt;br&gt;Beethoven and ultraviolence. Your attitude&lt;br&gt;towards life could be described as psychopathic&lt;br&gt;optimism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/anglepoiselamp/quizzes/Which%20Cool%20Evil%20Guy%20Are%20You%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which Cool Evil Guy Are You?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105525644084672860?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105525644084672860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105525644084672860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105525644084672860' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105525613880660730</id><published>2003-06-10T10:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-10T17:58:01.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thank you so much for the cool quiz Gregory!&lt;br /&gt;I took the quiz and this is me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/M/madpiratejenny/1036301335_mboyresult.jpg" border="0" alt="tomboy"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Tomboy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/madpiratejenny/quizzes/What's%20your%20sexual%20appeal%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What's your sexual appeal?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105525613880660730?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105525613880660730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105525613880660730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105525613880660730' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105517317275278128</id><published>2003-06-09T11:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-09T11:39:32.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;This is a response from Randy dispelling the myth and rumors that he is going to want kids with me.  Read On&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi baby...This kid-thing is getting ridiculous!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Funny how EVERYONE is running around, asking why we are not making&lt;br /&gt;babies, nor plan to? Like we are somehow SO selfish, and our reasons for&lt;br /&gt;Being Here are NOT to enjoy life, but to spend all our time, money, and&lt;br /&gt;lives making babies? Ugh.... I cannot think of a worse Hell On Earth.&lt;br /&gt;Like a 20 year voyage where you can NEVER set your luggage down, nor&lt;br /&gt;join in the fun.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Everyone who DOESN'T have a kid tells me what I'm missing???!! "How the&lt;br /&gt;hell do YOU know"?, I ask. Everyone WITH babies always looks so unhappy&lt;br /&gt;and tired, yet ALWAY tell you how happy they really are and how&lt;br /&gt;"wonderful" it is... Well sorry, but I ain't buyin'....And YOU are&lt;br /&gt;obviously smart enough not to, either. :-)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I read a book once, taking place in early S. Africa. A young and wealthy&lt;br /&gt;landowner was out surveying the holdings for days on end. When he&lt;br /&gt;returns, he takes his wife, resulting in a baby.....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Well, in those days, if you had sex you were going to get a baby, sooner&lt;br /&gt;or later. We have CHOICES now, but it is SO ingrained in us to just keep&lt;br /&gt;making babies. Jeeez. Until I met you, on every first-date was The&lt;br /&gt;Questions;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. "Why haven't I been married"?&lt;br /&gt;2. When and how many babies do you want? (Can we finish our coffee&lt;br /&gt;before you're pregnant!?....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. First, unlike everyone else, I don't, and have NEVER 'traded' someone&lt;br /&gt;in, and unlike almost everyone else, if I marry, I want to do it ONCE,&lt;br /&gt;with the right and best choice I have. I am not afraid to be alone, and&lt;br /&gt;REFUSE to settle so that I ''have someone'' - like so many others. I&lt;br /&gt;have watched both male and female friends do this over and over, and&lt;br /&gt;they can NEVER understand why they are never happy.... Jerry Springer's&lt;br /&gt;Children. Watch that show sometime. It is a frightening look at a&lt;br /&gt;greater cross-section of humanity than anyone is willing to admit to.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;2. This question should be;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"When are you going to throw away your money, life, surfing, travels,&lt;br /&gt;and happiness, energy, and get stuck in the grind like the rest of the&lt;br /&gt;people?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;People are ALWAYS telling me about their pregnancy, coming baby, birth,&lt;br /&gt;holdtheirkids-showmetheirkids....ARGHHHHHHHHH! Do I LOOK like someone&lt;br /&gt;who gives a shit?! I like kids, and will protect a kid with my life -&lt;br /&gt;don't get me wrong - when they are like miniature adults, funny, calm,&lt;br /&gt;cool to play with, but I play for few and give them back...Keep one???&lt;br /&gt;Gee. Hmmm. Surf, travel, laugh, love, sex.......LIFE!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Or have the 'happiness' I see all the parents having? yaright.....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I want to ask people;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;If someone dumped a kid onto you, what would YOU CHARGE them, per hour,&lt;br /&gt;for 18-hour days, for 20 years?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And yet you will give up your life and PAY to do this?&lt;br /&gt;wow....amazing...And most likely, given everyone's dedication to&lt;br /&gt;ANYTHING anymore - most of you women will do it ALONE when your 'man'&lt;br /&gt;leaves in a few years...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Women here seek some 'safe' idiot to be a daddy, as if he will stick&lt;br /&gt;around? Go on HotorNot.com....Look at ALL the single moms with&lt;br /&gt;"beautiful kids"... Well, I see an awful lot of UGLY kids, so someone&lt;br /&gt;has to have the ugly ones! It's not just one couple in Michigan making&lt;br /&gt;them out....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Kids? I've watched ALL my friends go from happy to stressed and unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;Why the hell would I want that, or worse, make YOU go through it if I&lt;br /&gt;was 'hiding it from you''. It's as Up Front as I can be with you, so you&lt;br /&gt;know who and what you are getting.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Love ya, babydoll! You 'rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105517317275278128?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105517317275278128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105517317275278128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105517317275278128' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105492621748460062</id><published>2003-06-06T15:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-06T15:03:37.520-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I figured I would start out with a simple Friday Five, since it is my first one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Top Five Movies&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A Clockwork Orange-I read the book when I was 12, it is an amazing, creepy, surreal movie.  It is a difficult movie to explain and I have watched it well over 50 times and I still get something out of it each time I see it.  I highly recommend it for all you intellectuals (or wannabe's) out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The Godfather-A Classic by any standards, and it has my favorite actor of all time (Al Pacino).  Must see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Requiem For A Dream-A deep and dark study of the effects of drugs and addiction.  This description does not do the movie justice.  Ellen Barkin's performance should have won her an Oscar.  The EST scenes and the spiraling out of control scenes are scary.  This is not a movie for the faint of heart.  Definitely rent the directors cut.  You will see a scene in the movie that is quite shocking but necessary to understand just how messed up these people are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Frankie and Johhny-The version with Al Pacino and Michelle Pfieffer.  It is a sweetly romantic movie, the way I would want a man to treat me.  My life in some ways paralells the charater of Frankie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Door to Door-A Movie about Bill Porter, a man who sells Watkins products door to door from the 50's to the 80's.  He struggles with Cerebral Palsy, William H. Macy plays this part amazingly and should have won an award for his role.  It did not receive much attention and I think it was overlooked.  Please check it out, you will not be disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are many other movies that are amazing, but at this point in my life, these are my absolute favorite.  So if you don't agree, that's fine.  Tell me which are your favorites and why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105492621748460062?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105492621748460062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105492621748460062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105492621748460062' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105486232645706344</id><published>2003-06-05T21:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-05T21:18:46.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I went and grabbed a tea this morning at one of my favorite places (Delmonico's) and literally ran into a guy's back. He started to get really angry and say something, till he turned around and saw me and then said "oh I'm sorry, my fault. Can I buy you a new tea and we can sit and chat a while?" I told him I have a boyfriend but thanks anyway.  Shortly thereafter, a woman who was admittedly unattractive bumped into him as well (the place is quite busy in the morning, they make pastry to die for).  The guy turned around, made a face and then went off on her, calling her a stupid bitch for bumping into him. He turned back to me and said "how 'bout it babe?" UGH, I looked at him, and because I was already in a pissed off mood said "You know I thought you were nice at first and I felt bad about bumping into you, now unfortunately I see your truly ugly. I wouldn't have tea with you if you begged me to." I then looked down at his feet and saw he had very nice Loafers on. Most likely made by Kenneth Cole. I took my tea and dumped it all over them, after all if someone would have done that to me, it would have hit me where it hurt. I covet my shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was quite upset and followed me out of the restaurant and yelled obscenities at me. I really didn't care, you just don't treat someone like that just because of their looks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this mayhem got me to thinking...have people been nice to me most of my adult life because of my looks? Were people secretly like this idiot in the restaurant but because I look the way that I do, do they curb it while I am around them? This has been on my mind since then and I am trying to think of one incident where I didn't feel that this MIGHT be the case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, in many situations, outside of my family, I always get what I want. I have met famous people, I have dated famous people. I get discounts on many things. My latest pair of Manolo Blahnik's I got a 30% discount because I talked to the salesman for about an hour on just about every subject and he said he figured I was going to be a bitch and figured I wouldn't be intelligent and instead found me to be quite charming and "extremely bright." (His words not mine, I also happen to think the salesman was gay). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have received free concert tickets, free clothes, free jewelry, among other things and no I didn't do "favors" for these things. People have always catered to me in my adult life. I almost feel like I have lived a somewhat shallow life because I have accepted all these things from people and never turned anything down. What does that say about me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of my day has been at best, uneventful. I did have a really interesting and thought-prevoking conversation. The conversation was with a good friend from Australia. He does not want me to use his name, so I will respect that. It was an intelligent conversation; and one thing he said to me stuck and made me think. I had told him about the situation today and about previous situations where I felt my looks played&lt;br /&gt;a part in me getting what I want. He said to me "you are the total package, you have the looks and you are quite brilliant. People see that and that intimidates the hell out of people who are insecure or don't feel like they are as beautiful as you are. People will always cater to those who stand out above the rest. Don't feel like you're selling out, accept it, be proud of who you are and what you have achieved, teach people, and show them that you are real and true. People will respect you more for that and treat you differently." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh...makes sense. We talked about many other topics and just before the conversation ended he also said something that hit home too. "All people want is to be validated and all we need is to be heard. That is why everyone gravitates towards you. You don't only listen but you HEAR what people are saying and that is so rare." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am exhausted tonight, I am going to park my ass in my lay-z-boy and dream of my sweet prince tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105486232645706344?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105486232645706344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105486232645706344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105486232645706344' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105478425940022226</id><published>2003-06-04T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-05T21:54:00.400-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=http://www.hotornot.com/r/?eid=ARO8B8&amp;key=LJS &gt;Please Help this man!!!&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt; His name is Martin, I have an aversion to men named Martin.  They suck sexually, they (especially him)  need to be mothered and they are boring and superficial, HEY he might just be the right man for you.  If you want him, chat him up or just dial 1-800-PATHETIC-LOSER&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105478425940022226?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105478425940022226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105478425940022226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105478425940022226' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105478205688720036</id><published>2003-06-04T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-04T23:00:57.120-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was one of those blah days. One of those days that you just wanna crawl into bed, pull the covers up over your head, snuggle under the covers and sleep till your face falls off...well not literally but you know what I mean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my friend Kyla today and had our usual gossip conversation, then she asked how I was in a condescending tone.  She got married about a year ago and thinks that anyone who is not married HAS to be sad and HAS to envy anyone who is married.  She also has two kids, each with different fathers.  That’s the way it is here; if you have kids you’re definitely going to find a man and get married.  Men see someone like me as a threat; I have an amazing job, my own place, my own money and NO KIDS, nor do I want any!!!  I told her I was fine, but tired. The ever so paranoid girl that she is, quipped back at me “So what’s up with Randy?  You know one of these days he is going to want kids with you because EVERY man wants someone to have kids with.  What’s wrong with you?  You are going to have to settle for the fact that Randy is going to want kids and you are going to have to give them to him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I wasn't in the best of moods so I quipped back "Yeah like you settled when you married Derek? We all know he couldn't keep it in his pants."  Case in point, at THEIR wedding reception, Derek asked me to fuck him so that he could be with one more woman ‘one more time.’  Why does anyone like this even get married?  Of course I ripped him a new one.  I had contemplated beating him over the head with my shoe, but I just couldn’t justify using my favorite pair of Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals on his pathetic mug. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was a bitch, I admit it. I just don't understand why everyone is telling me to have kids.  For the record I DO NOT WANT KIDS!!!  Neither does Randy.  YES there are REAL men out there, and trust me, he is one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway, she didn't talk to me that much afterwards. She told me I was jealous of her and that I only wished that I could have had Derek. Ugh, puhleeze, will someone make a better argument than that some day? I am not jealous of her, I am happy I am not with him, after all she is going to learn the hard way that once a cheater always a cheater, you cannot change someone from that behavior just by marrying them.   Believe me, I am speaking from experience.  I also thought I was just being honest with her about what I thought. Sure I was a bitch, but an honest bitch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I arrived home, I had something very annoying slipped under my door, it was a letter.  No less, it was a 15 page letter, front and back.  It was from Darrin.  He is the man when I speak about experience.  It was New Year’s Eve 1999, I got home early from work, only to find him and Ashtray (my best friend-thanks for the nick name for her Randy, I still bust whenever I hear it), in bed together.  It trashed me and damaged me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been writing me letter upon letter as of late.  He is with another woman, and he has moved into my building.  He still obsesses over me (obviously) and even though I ended up getting the radio DJ to play the song “Thorn In My Side” by the Eurythmics and dedicate it to “the man who is stalking Heidi.  She does not want you anymore, so get it through your head.”  He is still relentless.  The letter was the same, I’m sorry, I want you back, whaawhaawhaa.  Never gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned...I will have the Friday Five and much more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105478205688720036?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105478205688720036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105478205688720036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105478205688720036' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5453885.post-105477452363747617</id><published>2003-06-04T20:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-06-04T20:55:23.663-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is just a test....hold on it gets better and better every time. Bang BABAY!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5453885-105477452363747617?l=heidistuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105477452363747617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5453885/posts/default/105477452363747617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heidistuff.blogspot.com/2003_06_01_archive.html#105477452363747617' title=''/><author><name>Heidi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15909754319558303669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
