The Heather Chronicles

We have all heard the saying, "Life is what you make it." We also know the saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." I to both typically say, "Fuck off."

I am one that holds great optimism in the lives and dreams of others. I am of great support to people and can either be the voice of reason, or the one pushing you to just jump. For my own life I feel these words and attitudes are definitely in my head, and goals that I would love to truly, truly live by. Instead I keep them in my head and only let them into my heart when occasional break opens up in the traffic of my mind.

I'm always seeking growth, spirit and enlightenment, yet I rarely seem to hold onto what I do find. Instead I am distracted by daily nuances or major life changes.

Now, life is never easy. We all struggle, we all cry, we all encounter obstacles in life. Some of us have had a mindset of perseverance and not let troubles get in our way. I know many wonderful people with this strong mindset and positive attitude. I adore and envy these people. I wish I had this. Instead, I have tried and given up, fallen down, laid in the dirt and taken time to get back up, then repeated the same thing years later. I have often been told that I am strong since I have overcome the things I have gone through, yet I have never thought of myself as strong. I always think of myself as weak, yet stubborn.

With the recent diagnosis of emphysema, I have not handled this well. I decided I would just think of this as living with diabetes or something to that nature. Instead I have dwelled upon what lays ahead, the struggles that my doctor has told me I will encounter, the medicines I will have to stay on for the rest of my life. I have cried and isolated because my lung tests have gotten worse, my breathing less abled than what I am used to. I have drank more than usual, eaten more than usual, not treated my body the way I should be treating it, particularly now. I by no means am going to die now, but I am pissed. I am pissed that after almost dying two years ago in May, I get this. I survive for this? I am enraged and I don't understand and I hate the loss of control over my body. Somewhere inside this muck around my soul, I felt destined for some sort of greatness, whether it be love or laughter or to simply touch the lives of others. I felt SOMETHING wonderful was to happen. Now I just feel angry.

This weekend has been weird. I have been in tune to more coincidences, seen many truths and had many a mind blowing revelation that wasn't always pretty. Now I just feel raw to the world. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of crying and asking why me? I'm tired of feeling like a fucking victim. I want to take my life back. I want to be one of those people that surpass the expectations of others. I want to inspire and touch people's lives. I want to feel free, to feel love, to feel content in where the universe takes me despite it's road blocks.

I'm done. I'm done with with acting like a sissy. It's time for a new path, and I WILL take it on full speed ahead.

-Heather

No, I'm not drunk and rewriting a previous Chronicle. I truly have had a strange, strange day full of random events and weird coincidences.

This morning I drove in to work and some woman three cars ahead of me kept stopping her car for no reason and the line of cars behind her continuously almost hit each other. I was looking to see what the hell was going on, and there was nothing. Just some woman who kept stopping her car all of a sudden. Strange thing is that at one point, she slammed on her breaks and on the other side of the road some other woman did the same thing. Almost as if an invisible dog ran across the street.

I get on the freeway and the screen on my phone then goes out for no reason. I later found out, when Chad called what appeared to be my dead phone, that it still works. I just have no clue who's calling and can't see anyone's phone number. AND the screen is so hot it was burning my ear (your poem came to mind, Rod). I now have a post-it note with phone numbers stuck to it as my phone book.

I get closer to work and am passed by a hippy on a bicycle who's seat pole is approximately six feet high, if not more. This is the second time I've seen him and I always wonder how he gets on the damned thing.

Arriving at work, I get an email that my friend's brother's band is on tour for a few months and just so happens that he's in the Pacific Northwest this weekend. Funny thing is that he's an ex-boyfriend from ten years ago and it ended badly. It's been ten years, so I can definitely let go of it (I definitely played a big part and he had a right to hate me), but I know he thinks I'm psycho from back then. After making sure I will not be kicked out or beaten if I show up at a show, I decide to go check out their band this weekend.

So, I come home and am picking up my room. I had some old high school yearbooks out for quite some time, from trying to determine who my friend's neighbor is (he went to my high school) and I go to put them in their rightful place in the storage room. I haven't been back there in a while and am not sure how these got out, but there were condoms all over the floor. I start picking them up and realize what they're from...the ex coming to town sent them to me in one of the many letters he wrote me ten years ago. They must have fallen out of one of the letters in the memory box when I got the yearbooks out a couple of months ago.

I started going through my memory box and found the letters I knew were there, but hadn't touched in years and years. I sat down and read all of them and realized I was a total bitch to this poor guy back then, and he was very sweet to me, and I had the whole situation of what happened to me that bad, bad day many moons ago, completely warped in my mind. I was a bitch. Oh my God. I was real bitch. I knew I played a part in things, but I didn't realize just how bad I was until now. I never thought I was really bad to anyone, but I have been.

I know we can't change our past, but we can change our future. We all know I've had my ups and downs, but I think that in general I have a really good heart and love many, many people that I'm so grateful are in my life. I only hope to continue this path with people in my life. And as I sat there thinking of how I've been, how I now am, and how I want to be remembered, I found two coasters from a restaurant in Phoenix in the memory box. Ones that friends/coworkers wrote all over about me...things I say often, things they often said to me, and things they think of me. And now I know how people will remember be. I laugh and I shake my head...

*Christian totally $#&@# up.
*So, like I was like driving on the highway, when I like just threw up!
*Bleepty Bleep Bleep! (Serena won't swear except in her car)
*I don't curse A LOT.
*Hello!!! Don't put your things in my nachos.
*What the fuck?
*I totally had diarrhea...
*Heather, could you PLEASE not fart in my office!
*I love hick music.
No, no, no. This isn't gross...
(In fake groggy voice) Marcos, I just woke up and it's noon, blah, blah, blah.
*She's a slut!
Why does somebody egg my car?
(Said to me) Hey lady, do you have a a) cigarette b) 37 cents for a burger or c) I can't read what they wrote.
*Heather is a dirty, dirty girl.
*The jungle will miss you.
*Heather loves Brittney (this is because I DETEST Brittney Spears)
*I love pig sandwiches.
*Booty call.
*Bendy straws for everyone!
*I'm so hot! (this was in reference to the weather, but they thought I was conceited)
*Nobody told me! I'm SO confused!
*I don't make out with boys in parking lots on good days.
*We're going to kill Santa Senorita (homeless man to Serena and I)
*Pamela hates you (I know you don't though Pamela).
*Oh my God! I haven't smoked in two hours! I'm a non-smoker!
*Heather lives in an underground garage.
*Eyebrow ring
*I laughed, I cried, CATS is the worst damned musical I've ever seen!
*I like to wear trashy, white dresses.

Uhhhhh. I hope that when I die, people will have amnesia. Hahahaha.

Love to all,
Heather

To my dear friend. I didn't know if it was okay to name you. May you find a bra that can support you through this pregnancy.

Once upon there was a wonderful pregnant friend of mine. She had waited a very long time for this baby and she was so happy for this. There was only one problem. She was only three months along and her boobs were HUGE! She had outgrown the biggest bra she could find (for she was a tiny girl with big boobs) and she knew it was just going to get worse.

One night I went out with my friend and I excused myself to use the restroom. I was washing my hands when I heard the toilet flush and out walked one of my friend's breasts! I was shocked and not sure if I'd really seen what I thought I'd seen. I went back to where my friend was standing and told her I ran into her breast in the restroom.

"Oh I know! They've gotten so big I was just telling some friends that they each have their own job and have separate breakfasts."

I was shocked! I'd never heard of this before.

A month later I was out at a bar with some friends. One of them commented on the boob in the corner. Thinking it was some drunk fool, I leaned to my left to get a better view. It was my friend's breast doing shots with some slimey looking guy! It had grown quite a bit since I'd last seen it. I shook my head and thought of my poor friend and having to deal with the constant growth of her breasts.

As the pregnancy went on, the breasts got bigger and more rambunctious. I started hearing rumors about town of her breasts hanging out at all the hot spots, dancing on tables, grinding on boys who had girlfriends, and starting bad catch phrases. They became Seattle's version of the Hilton sisters. They started showing up regularly in the weekly paper as The Drunk of the Week.

Further into the pregnancy it got worse. My friend called me crying one night saying she hadn't seen her breasts in days. She said the last she'd heard, her husband said they'd egged her neighbor's car and stolen a Vespa. I agreed to help her find her breasts. I enlisted the help of my other friend Chad who'd witnessed the two tits terrorizing the town. We drove around searching for the breast friends and finally Chad thought he glimpsed one in an alley. We parked the car, got out and walked to where he thought he'd seen them.

There in the alley were her breasts. One was vomiting milk beside a dumpster, the other crying because it's nipple was stuck in a sewer grate. Chad and I helped them out of the alley, gave them our coats and led them to the car where we drove them home to their rightful owner.

We all sat in my friends living room that night and had an intervention with the two tits. We laughed, we cried, we drank tea. And at the end of the night, the two enormous breasts climbed back on board my friend and lived happily ever after.

What is a mutant? The slang definition is: One that is suggestive of a genetic mutant, as in bizarre appearance or inaptitude.

Hmmmmm.......
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