Orange Is The New Black...

I wandered into the Petsmart on 72nd yesterday...

I had every intention of buying a few holiday gift cards...

I had every intention of buy the "Dog" version of Monopoly...

I had EVERY intention of buying some cat crack for my friends with felines addicted to the nip...
I had no intention of being an addict's guardian...


But...


When I met "Saturn," I was intent on bringing him home...

He whispered barely audible meows through the cage grating...

His head tilted to the sound of my voice...

His mouth closed with his tongue hanging between his lips...


Volunteer: Would you like me to open the cage?

Me: Sure.


That was pretty much it...

I picked him up this morning...















































"Saturn," doesn't suit him...

I'm diggin' the following names:

1. Ambrose B. Cat
(Amby for short)

2. Oscar Wilde

3. Gulliver
(A throwback to his former Travelin' lifestyle.)

4. Earnest
As in...The Importance of Being Earnest...

5. ?


What do you think?
Email me!
Heather@q985fm.com



P.S.
Todd at Petsmart Rocks!

Warning: This Blog Contains High Levels of Sarcasm

I like to think of my life as a mini series...

The following cast members have expressed yearly shopping frustration:

"Pauline"

Heather's selfless mother and very close friend.

"Bryan"

Heather's work-a-holic boyfriend, who enjoys The Bears and taming his nearly feral feline.

"Chewbacca"

The nearly feral feline.

I feel that my preferences are fairly generic...

I don't want anything generic...

Case closed...

Simple...

My mom has agreed to "Pimp My Ride" with a remote start devise...Awesome idea for a NE import such as myself.

I invited Chewbacca to move into my loft. She didn't bite me or run away. My assumption is that she has accepted my offer and will consider relocation.

That leaves Bryan...

In his defense. the next 3 months will be challenging:

Dec: Christmas
Jan: My Birthday
Feb: Valentine's Day

Because I have a heart of gold, I assembled a short list of gift ideas...


Then....I happened upon this:

Yes my friends...

It's awesome-ness is only exceeded by it's price tag...

Don't worry...I have devised a plan that makes Lucy and Ethel's genius schemes look...

well...

silly...

Here's the pitch:

Exhibit A:

Science

Stress and Hair Loss: What Are The Causes of Hair Loss?

From Elizabeth Scott, M.S.,Your Guide to Stress Management.FREE Newsletter. Sign Up Now!
About.com Health's Disease and Condition content is reviewed by Steven Gans, MD

Stress and Hair Loss: You may have heard that stress can cause hair loss, and it’s true. Excessive physical or emotional stress, like that associated with injury, illness or surgery, can cause one of two types of hair loss:
The more common type is called telogen effluvium. With this less severe type of hair loss, the hair stops growing and lies dormant, only to fall out 2 or 3 months later. Then it grows back within 6 to 9 months.
The other type of stress-induced hair loss is known as alopecia areata, and involves a white blood cell attack on the hair follicles. With this type of hair loss, the hair also falls out within weeks (usually in patches), but can involve the entire scalp and even body hair. Hair may grow back on its own, but treatment may also be required.

Exhibit B

Cliches/Subliminal messages

Exhibit C:
Simple Math

In reference to things other than weight gain, zits and credit card debit...3 is better than 2.

Exhibit D

Summation:

The 5 Circles of Hell...

Around this time last year, I had a personal trainer. I hated him...Which meant he was doing a stellar job. His pulpit was a Stair Master, and his Bible was a meticulously calculated meal calendar. (I use the word "Meal," quite loosely.) Needless to say...Instead of gaining the average 5-7 pounds of holiday flab...I lost 4 pounds...

"Holiday Flab," is a funny thing...

"Happy Thanksgiving, you're fat!"

"Merry Christmas...now lay down so you can button those jeans!"

"Happy New Year...You've gone up a size and the only thing that fits are your shoes!"

Although I don't currently have a hard bodied fitness freak orchestrating hours of "Sweaty Time"...I do have a broken elevator...and I have a 5th floor apt.

In a perfect world, I'd be trotting effortlessly up and down...Trash and laundry would serve as free weights, and the heels I wear 24/7 would be an added calf work-out...

If you know me at all, you're laughing right now...

There are 5 full bags of trash in my kitchen:

Plus, I've been occupying myself with time consuming projects, so I don't have to tackle the stairs. "The 5 circles of Hell," as I've affectionately coined them...

A concert tee, embedded in clear resin...Framed by a refurbished window pane.

Same concept...except I took scissors to a pair of signed jeans...

Trippin' on Tryptophan (The Dead Turkey Slipped Me a Roofie.)

Apparently I don't eat enough of the original white meat...

I don't have the "Immunity," man!

I can funnel coffee down my throat, without a hint of jitters...

I can drown in a self inflicted Tabasco sauce tsunami, without heart burn...


But...


When it comes to turkey...


I'm a lethargic lump...

Minutes after ingesting the bird, I started hitting an invisible snooze button...

It's like nature decided to reprimand my turkey gluttony by giving me a "Time Out!"


Needless to say, after dinner I spent a lot of time on the floor with the dog...



Unable to escape the saliva shower...



All because of the damn Tryptophan...

Post Nasal Blog...

I've been a little bit snotty and sniffly the past couple days...

I have been reciting Lesley Gore's lyrics to my cold for the past 48 hours, with no results.

Hey cold, "You don't own me..."
*Sneeze*
Hey Sneeze, "I'm young and I love to be young..."
*Cough*
Hey Cough, "Don't tell me what to do, and don't tell me what to say..."

I could go on...but you get it...

My brain is lounging in an orange Dayquil Jacuzzi...

Yes my friends...the daytime, sniffling, sneezing, stuffy head, so you can work medicine...is my bestest bud.

If there was such a thing as an Olympic Cold Medicine Swallowing Team, I would be the star...

Needless to say, I'm loopy from the liquid...

I started laughing hysterically when I saw this:















Why are Elfin Crackers funny?



They're not...



But I saw this:

















That's right...F'fin crackers...with 2.5 grams of "F..."

All Weddings Eve...

Have you ever done sooooo much in a week, it feels as through a month has flown by?
My boyfriend was in town and we went out A LOT!

Halloween kicked off with a courthouse wedding. No one was knocked up. No shot-guns were pointed. No one was stressed out about usual wedding crap. Just 2 crazy kids, a judge, and a handful of well-wishers...

I was a well-wisher...

NOT a bride...

My mom was just freaking out...

Now she's fine...

Because neither of these people are me:













Rock on marriage!

When it doesn't involve me...

;-)

A guy called in last night, and asked if I had any weekend plans that , "Are so private you would only include the details in a personal blog."

If you:
1. Listen regularly.
2. Know me.

You can appreciate how silly this question was/is...

Privacy isn't my bag baby...

Minus the social security number and mailing address, my life exists for your amusement.
Radio doesn't work for me unless it's real...
So yes...
I REALLY have 11 cavities. I REALLY like poker. I REALLY REALLY dig The Donnas.

I'll be at Scary Acres tonight from 9-11pm.
Feel free to stalk me...

XOXOXO,
Heather

No Rehab For Heather

One of my friends told me that if you could keep a plant alive, you could take care of yourself...

This wisdom, as most does, comes from a movie about drug addicts...

Apparently, It's true.

Here's the plant:

Do The Accessories Come With The Bed?

I walked into Pier 1 today, and saw this:
















If you're "OOOH-ing..." and "Awe-ing..."

Stop.

This situation sucks for so many reasons...
1. In a couple months, when Pier 1 has a "Super Red Tag Sale," some poor person will actually pay for drool infused items.
2. This kid's Mom is not within eye-shot. Someone could hurt him/her and totally get away with it.
3. I am suddenly so concerned about reasons 1 & 2, that I cannot focus on shopping.

This situation could however, be worse:
1. The kid could be screaming.
2. Projectile vomit could be flying from this kid's mouth into an innocent bystander's [my] hair.
3. This kid could be mine.

Luckily, I was able to walk away from the entire situation.

So dear friend, if you are:
1. Interested in buying stuff from Pier 1...watch out for drool.
2. A novice kidnapper...go to Pier 1.
3. Looking for a babysitter...don't call me.

Automatic Toilet Seat

Because men are missing the "Toilet closing gene," here's a link to the automatic toilet seat...














http://www.faucetdirect.com/index.cfm?page=product:display&productID=MS990CG&manufacturer=Toto&finish=Bone&CS_010=184614&CS_003=714917&source=shopping

P.s. Make THEM pony up the money for it!

It's better than Crack

I haven't blogged in a while. That either means:
A. My life has been so super exciting I haven't had time...
B. Nothing worth mentioning has occurred...
C. I have been crushing on Yellowcard's new album too hard to focus on anything else...

Yeah...

If you answered C; you get a cookie.*

Plus...

I'm addicted to Youtube.
Yes, my friends, the day has come...
I could watch wacky pet clips all day...







* No actual cookie**
**Cookies may cause cavities***
***See blog below

So...You're wrong AND illiterate...cool

According to Maxim, the 5 "Unsexiest" women alive are:

5. Britney Spears
4. Madonna
3. Sandra Oh (Grey's Anatomy)
2. Amy Winehouse
1. Sarah Jessica Parker

Britney Spears is less heinous than Sarah Jessica Parker?!?
I wish this was a joke...
I would like to think the opinions expressed in Maxim do not reflect the opinions of the gender as a whole...

http://www.maximonline.com/Entertainment/Thefiveunsexiestwomenalive/slideshow/435.aspx

P.s. "Unsexiest," is not a word.

Scott Anderson's side project should be called "Enamel 11."

This message of hatred is for my mouth:
















I have 11 cavities.

Yes my friends...That's "1" with another "1" in front of it.

To the naked eye, my teeth do not appear injured; nor do they hurt.

However, the kind man with the drill claims to see the enamel eating interlopers...

Therefore, while you get lost in mountains of turkey and stuffing...I will be embarking on a Novocaine extravaganza.

Hoo-Rah

The Pink Pony

Commandment number 10 is the least important...right?




















I promised myself that I wouldn't buy a new car until I turn 30.
(However, I will only be claiming 29. So as far as YOU know, it will be my 29th birthday present to myself. )

Needless to say, I'm not there yet.

I am currently breaking commandment number 10...Yes...RIGHT NOW.












The limited edition 2008 Mustang with the Warriors in Pink package does benefit Susan G. Komen for the Cure.
But let's be real...
The car is cute.
http://www.fordvehicles.com/warriorsinpink/index.asp

I'm always thinking of you.


Yes...you...


I normally would not approach strange men decked out in Motley Crue gear, brandishing my camera phone, and beg them for a picture...


OK...You're right...I would...





























As I continued my journey through the looking glass, I happened upon this:















Then I was hoping for this:

But alas, no Britney Spears...real or impersonated...

I just became very excited...

Twice...

I'm doing the Horseshoe Poker Community Classic Tournament on Tuesday...The adrenaline is flowing. (Or something is flowing...I am looking at a picture of Adrien Grenier.)

I get giddy about cards.

Being giddy at this particular moment isn't ideal because I'm on the air right now...

When I'm giddy, my voice gets high and squeaky...

I smile so much my face hurts...

What would end up on the airwaves you ask?

Imagine the sound of:

A cracked out cheerleader, rushing her favorite California sorority, sucking on a helium tank...

Yeah...

This also made me smile:

The Donnas

I have reached my "Dork Threshold."
Yes my friends...
I wholly dorked out around The Donnas tonight. I met them a few years ago in Atlanta when I was an intern...

No big deal...

I was working...They were working...There was a morning show happening...

But as a fan outside of the station, I became a dork...A BIG ONE...

I started rambling as Brett was signing my CD...My hand was shaking when I took this picture:

I pulled myself together for the one with Torry, but you can tell by my smile that I'm DORKING OUT:

So I bought the Tee Shirt:

And have the signed CD:

Therefore, I have inducted myself into the fraternity of DORK...

D- Delta

O- Omega

R- Who the hell cares cause I just met the band...

K- mmmm'K?

If nothing else...I take comfort in the fact that I like a good band...It could be much worse...I could get excited over Hansen or something...

So...people in rehab do nothing...right?

I did nothing yesterday...
Well, not nothing...
I slept almost all day...
Flaked out on my friends...
Then spent the evening feeling bad for flaking...

Hum...

I had a "Lindsay Lohan-IN REHAB" moment...minus the withdrawals.

Sex And The City...THE MOVIE!!!!

Yes my friends...
There are in fact 4 exclamation points in the title of this blog, to convey my extreme excitement.

May 30th 2008, I will be in a theatre as the estrogen tsunami hits. The movie could suck and I will love it...guaranteed.

Here are some pictures from the NYC filming:

Because it came with the house...

I only have a kitchen because it came with the house...
It's true.
I'm a chick.
I have the hormones, the physical characteristics, and love for shoes that chicks have.
However...
The idea of buying flatware or groceries or a microwave for that matter, gives me the chills. Not just chills my friends...The type of affliction that one might receive when viewing the goriest of horror flicks...at a drive in theatre...in a bikini...in the dead of an Alaskan winter. Therefore, this magnet was a must have:












The inside of my fridge is wasted space:










The absence continues:










Although, sometimes I indulge my inner Trading Spaces diva...

I buy old window panes...

After painting and gold leafing them...they become frames:

Same concept applies to chairs. Paint+Nails=Funky Shelves.

OPP (Other People's Pets)

I'm down with OPP...
Yeah...
You...
Know...
FLUF-FEE...
Although I have a uterus, I dislike children...

Well...NOT YOURS of course...

YOUR children are smarter, cuter, and more entertaining than OTHER people's children...

Other people's pets are great though...
1. They're not afraid of getting candy from strangers.
2. They know their name, and won't ask you if you'd like them to spell it for you...(Because they CAN and that's some sort of achievement.)
3. They might not appreciate the Coach collar you gave them for Christmas...but they won't outgrow it in a month...

I dork out around OPP...every moment is a photo op...















Sammie:
Likes: Frisbee
Dislikes: Clothes without holes. (Will Customize your fav jacket while you're out!)










Chewbacca:
Likes: N/A...She's bitter from a life on the streets.
Dislikes: Authority figures.















Teebo:
Likes: Listening to Heather on Q98.5
Dislikes: His "fem" appearance.















Anonymous:
Likes: The Hokies
Dislikes: Playa H8tA's

Coffee, Cops, and The Red Cross

If I was a paranoid chick, I would wonder why the cops were hanging out at MY Starbucks this morning...











I might also question their presence at MY Red Cross donation site...












Considering I am only here once every 56 days....













It's odd that the cops are around both when I ingest liquids, and when I release them...














I suppose it's not odd, because I am not paranoid...

Hey Lindsay Lohan

I mentioned this last night...here's the link for your giggling pleasure:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6uIw0aF9-8

Coffee

When I was a kid I wanted Santa to bring me a pony...

When I was in high school I wanted clear skin, no braces and a cute boyfriend...
Presently, in 2007, things are simpler.

A perfect day includes:
1. A latte from Starbucks.
2. A case of sugar free Red Bull.
3. Yeah that's pretty much it...

This notebook was a MUST HAVE:

As you can see, it's extremely useful:

Flowers

At 6am on May 8th, 2005 I was sipping coffee at a diner in Atlanta. I remember because it was Mother's Day. The woman behind the counter chain smoked as she poured. She said I reminded her of her daughter who she hadn't spoken to in years. The fluorescent light hung in her wrinkles, which I only noticed because I'd spent the night searching the faces of strangers across a poker table. It may have been the burnt coffee, or the heat of Atlanta, or the altered senses of a girl who'd been awake all night; but for a moment I felt as though we'd crossed paths in a desert.

I left...wandered to a grocery store...bought a bouquet of flowers...and dropped them off with a card boasting the sentiment, "Happy Mother's Day."

Maybe I grew up watching too much Donna Reed on Nick at Night...but I still go to bed wearing make-up, and I still think flowers are the answer.

Luxury Tax

I spent the 80's playing Monopoly...and crimping my hair.

Every Sunday my Dad and I would sit on the floor and battle over Park Place...I had all the bliss that accompanies being young and naive.

Things were simple: Passing Go is good.

Luxury Tax is bad.

"Luxury Tax," as it pertains to me in 2007, is encased in the orange envelope of a parking ticket. Yes my friends, I am what the city cashier calls a "Collector."

Parking tickets aren't exactly Disney World quality "Fun..." but they don't ruin my day. It's like a daily tax for the luxury of parking wherever I wish.

So fellow ticket collector, don't despair. Not only are your windshield wipers being utilized on sunny days as well as rainy... My assistant "Steve" has provided a pictorial of alternate uses for your $16. mishaps: