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:

Poker

There are 3 things that give me a superior amount of pleasure:
1. Playing poker until sunrise.
2. Ridding a horse with a reputation for sending people into orbit.
3. Snowboarding in less than optimal conditions. (Ice, fog, trees, or the grassy patches that result in Spring are much more exciting to me than virgin snow.)

I played Texas Hold'em at Horseshoe Casino this morning. Cards were in the air at 10am, and I was in love with the Horseshoe by 10:01am. I won't bore you with an account of each call and every subsequent flop. I won't rant incessantly about poker, as is my inclination, but I will say that for 60 bucks it was a lot of fun.

Check out: www.horseshoepokerclassic.com

I am NOT this year's American Idol

Welcome to my inaugural blog.

(Insert fanfare, flash photography and confetti...Maybe not confetti, it's too messy.)

Lots of people have been asking about the American Idol saga. Here's the breakdown:

Wednesday Morning:

While standing in the registration line, (at the literal butt crack of dawn) I was baffled by the fact that no one wanted to sing for me. Even their song titles became top secret classified information that would be concealed from possible AI interlopers at all costs. However, I met a chick named "Jolene" who was cordial enough to join me in a photo. Here we are looking as sexy as 6 am allowed:

Friday Morning:

After dozens of "Wake-up calls" had been confirmed for 3:30 am, I exited the radio station with the knowledge that I would not sleep. I was jones-ing hard for some Sominex...I decided that the 3 measly hours of shut eye I would attain wasn't worth having to swallow...

I showered...I tried on my outfit...I laid out my outfit...I tried on my outfit again...I laid out my outfit again...I curled my hair...I straightened my hair...I curled my hair again...

Because I live in Old Market, I hoofed it to the Quest Center at 4 am. (Only the chance of nationwide stardom can pull this girl out of bed before sunrise.) I met "Nick," in line. I immediately tagged him as "Saint Nick...My halfway gay, wholly metro American Idol Christmas elf." (This was a term of endearment. Trust me, if you think I'm wacky on the air, I'm down right Fruit loops the other 21 hours per day.)

The producers emerged sometime around 8 am to orchestrate lame crowd shots. "The Midwest is the best," we shouted with conviction. The 18th time I almost believed it. (This was step number 1 in the AI brainwashing extravaganza.)

Inside the Quest Center, more choreographed excitement followed. We swayed our arms, pumped our fists wildly in the air and played air piano. These motions accompanied a group rendition of "Born in the U.S.A." (AI brainwashing step number 2: Even if you were birthed in the back of a French cab, entrenched in the glow of Bastille Day fireworks, YOU WERE BORN IN THE U.S.A. DAMN IT!)

My stamina faded as Broadway quality singers were rejected...I took a break and found an area outside which was rejuvenating. A circle of people were singing, playing guitar and laughing. (AI brainwashing tactic number 3: Unless it's T. V. quality, it's not quality.)

In the moments before I auditioned, I looked down at my AI bracelet and media pass. I smiled knowing that I was one of the few people who had both.

I sang...

I waited while the producers whispered to each other...

I wanted to be on the show...exponentially more than before...

And....

No dice...

Rejected...

I was, as they said, "A Non-Winner."An assistant, brandishing scissors, removed my wristband and it was over. Outside I met a band of other "Non-Winners." We collectively decided that the $100. prize offered that night at a local Karaoke joint was far more fulfilling than signing our lives away. (The AI brainwashing was complete. We were so miserable about failing that a lousy bill looked like Gatsby's green light. We were desperate for someone to remove the "NON" from "Non-winner.")

I met an actual winner before facing the humid jaunt back to my place. His name is Tony. The AI producers put the fear of God in him...Warning that the answer to any question is, "I'm not at liberty to say."

After a 5 hour nap, my priorities were in order. AI was like a fling, and Radio is the love of my life.

~Heather

P.S.

Gotta give thanks and kisses to UNO and M. Constantino Salon for making my "Pre-Idol" days fantastic!