A few times a day I come here. I open the posting section and I stare at it. I want to blog, to write, to tell you something, even show you a cool link or article, but, I can't. When I am not around a computer I think of oddles of things to write about, however, they are always lost between then and now and I'm stuck with nothing.
I don't want to turn this into an extremely personal journal type blog, where I write everyday. I would like you to know me a little though, how my days are spent, the things I like and how I feel. So, in an effort to begin with that a little, you get a quick run-down on Who I Am and What I Do.
My name is Heather (and yes, that is my real name), I am 24 and I live in a rural part of Southern Illinois. I hate where I live, but I handle it. I am currently attending school to obtain my RN, after which I plan to move to St. Louis and work in pediatric oncology at Barnes. At this time I am a respiratory therpist technician, which means I deal with patients who have chronic respiratory problems, people on ventilators (respirators), kids with asthma, you get the drift. I also do polysomnographies, otherwise known as sleep studies. My facility mostly tests for obstructive sleep apnea - I won't explain what that is, you can look for yourself here
. My days are usually spent going to class, sleeping, studying and then working a ten hour night shift. I barely have time to live until the weekend comes.
I have a boyfriend type person who isn't really my boyfriend. I refuse to put a label on our relationship, for whatever reason. Probably because I'm scared, I am relationship phobic. I've been married before, in what seems to be another life, and it has caused me to have some issues with loving and being loved. Back to the guy, he is great. He doesn't pressure me and gives me all the time and space I need. I'm his on the weekends and I'm mine through the week. It works for me, but it won't last, we just aren't right for long term. And before you ask me why I'm wasting my time, I'm not. I don't want long term right now - I have a lot of growing to do first, and he sort of helps me grow.
I live with my parents again after 2 years of living alone and nearly succumbing to complete financial ruin. I'm staying with them till I'm done with school and then I shall spread my wings and fly, far, far away. Okay, that whole three hours, driving isn't so far, but I like to pretend I'm a brave girl ready to embark on journeys far away from home.
So, now you "know" as much as you can from one little blog entry.
I do, hereby, promise to write a little more often.
You simply must try this.
It's frustrating and addictive. It will truely test your patience. Play if you dare.
You may need to refresh before it will load properly.
The concept is to collect "items" that will help you get out of this room. The items aren't easy to find and some must be found before others and some have to be used together.
I solved it, but it took me awhile.
Let me know how you do or if you require a hint or two.
True Porn Clerk Stories
I was directed to some interesting reading earlier this evening. I've spent about an hour reading through the diary of a clerk working at a video store that rents porn and i'm slightly captivated. I have other things to do, but, I think this is important. It's entertaining at least. I'll stop soon. Really. After I've read them all.
I never wish to be sucked into something such as this alone, so I recommend you click here
and read some for yourself.
Pieces of me
I come from one of those families that was never really a family at all. I'm sure my parents had the best of intentions when my mother dropped out of high school because i was making her belly too big and married my father who thought that playing poker and winning was just as good as working to support his family. One day, though, he started losing. He kept losing. Everything. I don't remember much from my childhood and i'm not really sure why. However, the day she threw him out, I will never forget. She and I came home to find all of her snap shots and all of our family pictures cut, into little pieces, all over the couch. She just stood there, staring at irreplaceable mementos of our lives. I'll never know why he did it, he won't talk about it. My dad collected mirros. You know the ones, budweiser, coca cola, the list goes on, he had tons of them, they were all over our house. My mom started throwing them out the front door like frisbies. One after another until she was laughing so hard there were tears running down her face. I still don't know what was so funny. I just sat in my room, peering out the door trying to understand what was happening. The sounds of the glass shattering and my mothers laughing that began to sound like sobbing are as vivid in my memory now as they were then, the days after when my daddy didn't come home anymore even though my mom said he loved me. My dad came home and my mom tossed him out the front door like a frisbie.
Both of my parents turned into sane, pseudo-normal people after that. They also both remarried and had children. So, I am an only child from my own parents.
My dad and his new wife had babies first, Joshua, a fat baby boy came when I was 6 and Marisha, a baby girl born before the ambulance made it to the hospital came when I was 7. I hated their guts.
My mom stayed single a lot longer. It was just the two of us and a lot of her friends. She had a lot of parties and she went out alot, but she deserved it. She worked two jobs and never did the welfare thing or received any type of help for anyone. I am far from perfect, but she did a damn good job on her own. She met my step-dad at a laundry mat and they fell in love at an Eddy Money concert. They got married and he loved me so much, i was a little princess. Then, she had two boys, Matthew when I was 10, Jason when I was 12. I hated them too.
I'm all grown up now and I realize how amazing it is to have siblings. Not really comparable to having your own children, I'm sure, but amazing nonetheless. They all have these little quirks and qualities that I have and they are all so different at the same time. I spend massive amounts of time with all of them just to see the pieces of me instilled in them.
Joshua has my ambition and my love for music. He, however, combined them and he is going to be a rock star. Sadly, he lacks the little motivation that I do have. He banks on being a rock star and while he made straight As through high school, he didn't and isn't going to college. Because, well, rock stars don't go to college. He's 18 now and has a different goal in life every week. He lives far away and every time I see him I nearly burst with excitement. A six foot teddy bear waiting to love on his little big sister. I'm crazy about Joshua.
Marisha and I share the same sense of humor. I can ride in a vehicle with this girl for an hour and have a tummy ache from the endless laughter we share. We aren't funny to anyone else, but we are funny to each other. I'm so proud of the young woman she's becoming. My dad raised her after my step-mom bailed and took Josh and while it's been hard for her, it's been good for her. She grew up too fast, but she grew up right. I admire Marisha.
Matthew is a slob. He inherited my old bedroom the second time I moved out of my parents home. I can walk in there and it still feels like my bedroom. Clutter, books, magazines, silly posters, clothes, music, movies, it's all everywhere. It's horrible. I was the exact same way. It drives my mother crazy. He's ADHD and he drives me mad, but I love him to death.
Jason is mini-me. I could bore you (even more than you evidently already are) with endless lists of the things we do and say that are identical, but I won't. Only one. Recently I moved back home again. I take my brothers to school a lot and so I'm up early in the morning with them. Matthew talks my leg off, he won't shut up and I don't even talk back, no more than a mumble. Jason and I can sit next to each other for 30 minutes and not speak and everything is fine. We don't like mornings. There is no communication there, but the silent mutual sympathy we feel for one another for having to get out of bed is all we need. I heart Jason.
I'm contemplating what kind of blog this is going to be. Certainly a choice that should have been made before the birth of the blog, but, the way things happen in my life are usually in no particular order.
A personal blog seems redundant since I keep a livejournal, although, a less detailed "important stuff only" blog could work. I like the idea of writing about the oddities of my every day plain life. I could do a number or combination of things. Going with the flow feels right - I guess I'll write about whatever there is to write about.
Tonight, though, I'm redoing this blog's make-up and hairstyle. It just doesn't look or feel like me at all.
Edit: I spent a little time color tweaking, fixed my blogrolling issues and played around in general. More changes to come, when/if I can ever find time.
Do you want fries with that?
I live in a small town where fast food restaurants are few and far between. We have Subway, McDonalds, Long John Silvers, Burger King, and a Taco Bell knock-off.
There is rarely a line at Burger King and I think I know why.
When you go through the drive-through, upon arriving at the speaker/order thingy, they never say "Welcome to Burger King, can I help you?" or "Welcome to Burger King, may I take your order please?". Without fail, they always urge me to order what they suggest, "Welcome to Burger King would you like to try a Whopper Value Meal?" or for breakfast, "Welcome to Burger King, would you like to try a sausage biscuit value meal?". Am I crazy or do most people already know what they want at that point? Am I even crazier for thinking that people actually never order what the employee suggests unless by pure coincidence? Personally, it makes me crazy. If I wanted a chicken sandwich and they suggested it before I ordered, I'd get something different. I'm a rebel like that. I typically roll my eyes and sigh, wishing to get to the actual ordering part and past the part where they tell me what I should eat.
At first I thought maybe they were promoting new items or specials. However, as I became obsessed with this phenomena I have found that there seems to be no rhyme or reason for the "suggestion of the day/hour/whatever". Last night it was the whopper, last week it was the baguette, sometimes it's a bacon cheeseburger. Is this some sort of a ploy to get rid of things sitting in under the heat lamps or some type of bacon over-stock?
Someday I'm going to get brave and ask them.