the rose of kiev

When I was 4, the land lady to the apartment my parents and I were living in, Mrs. Parr, passed away. As a child, I was old enough to understand the solemnity of the adults, but too young to grasp it for myself. Filing past the half-open casket, nodding sadly to her 34-year-old son, we went and sat down in the metal folding chairs. Swinging my short chubby legs back and forth and biting my lip, I had this distracted look on my face, thinking seriously. My father asked, "What's wrong, sweetie?" He expected some genius philosophical answer about how I had grasped the meaning and finality of death. Wrinkling my nose, I looked up and whispered loudly "WHAT DID THEY DO WITH HER LEGS?" My parents about peed their pants right there in their Sunday best. This week I have been a part of grieving another death: Danielle Petermann. I spent years in school with her, one of my 39 classmates befriending me while growing up together in our classes. In government, we used to si

So, I know I've been obsessing about Dave in my last I-don't-know-how-many blogs, but bear with me one more time. I wanna recount the evening first for you, no one else has heard it yet, while it's still wonderfully crisp and fresh in my mind. He's late (as usual) picking me up because I asked him to get out of bed at a time of day he hasn't seen in weeks - in other words, the AM part of the day. So, bundling up my wonderful brown skirt and boots, I hitch up my favorite jeans, tug my amazing black top straight, plop my ample rear in his car and we're off to start a wonderful day! It started simply - we went and saw Narnia together (because the amazing thing is, we actually found a movie we BOTH wanted to see, go figure) and started the morning out a little rushed, but relaxed. We get back to the house where he lives, and as I tell his room mate Tim all about the Christian music genre he's interested in - that I've replaced with Rascal Flatts, Kelly Clar

It's about one in the morning, but holy cow, a part of me doesn't want to sleep. In a matter of HOURS and not DAYS I get my time with Dave. I love that it's all a surprise except for some vague hints about "dinner reservations at 5" and "dress nicely but dress warmly" tantalize me and make the minutes seem to crawl by, BUT LET THEM CRAWL. If it were possible, I'd cripple time, break its knees and wrists, just for a little while tomorrow morning...while I'm showering and putting on my favorite skirt (and most shamefully expensive piece of clothing whose price tag has been buried safely in my closet) and shampooing my hair just so I could savor the anticipation. Call me a freak, but I LOVE the moments leading up to a highly-anticipated day. I always function best when I have something to look forward to, and while I enjoy those wonderful anticipated days, and writing about (well, gushing about) them, a part of me is sad...because it's over. I c

It's been a very good weekend on several levels. Thursday sucked, because I had to study for math the night before, get up early, study two more hours of math, take my math final, try and hang out with a friend and falling asleep, taking a two hour nap, and then working 9 hours WITHOUT a break until 2 IN THE MORNING. Utterly miserable. But I studied with Dave in the morning. I hung with Dave after my math final until my other friend arrived. Dave picked me up from work at 2 in the morning. Dave stayed until 3 rubbing the splintering pain from my spine. I slept until 1 in the afternoon the next day and was just fine. So Saturday meant Dave and I have been going out for 6 months...and I feel kinda bad. He has this plan to celebrate it...but not until Thursday the 15th. The hackles rose in my Princess genes, but I knew that was unfair to him, he's actually making an effort to make a special night to celebrate. But Saturday, the boy was invited to come over around 11 to hang out af

This is my dog, Honey. She is a big furry mutt, half Chow and half Golden Retriever and twice the smell and cuteness. Furry and playful, if she's not pawing at the back door waiting to get out, she giving someone puppy eyes and positively begging for attention. She likes to stand guard over my ankles in the morning to make sure stray cereal pieces don't attack them. In fact, she likes to guard everyone's ankles at every meal, just in case - even to the point of enveloping our bare feet with her all-consuming furry body by SITTING ON TOP OF our feet. She lives with us over at my dad's house and is the reason why several of my dad's good work shirts are torn and buttonless, why our used-to-be white carpet is more a calico style, and why the top of the stairs is suspiciously warm every morning, even when she's not supposed to be upstairs. This is my loving smelly furry friendly annoying playful gentle mutt of a dog. And for some unknown reason, I think I love her

This past Saturday sucked. It sucked so much it brought a newer and deeper definition to the word 'suck'. I was at work all day at Wendy's, working the drive-thru register as usual...but it was cold. Really freaking cold. And I couldn't wear gloves, or else I couldn't ring in the orders and make change. And I couldn't zip up my coat, because then I wouldn't be able to use the buttons on my headset. My fingers went numb, and the only feeling I had was the jabbing sensation I got when hitting buttons. And for nearly three hours, my window was almost perpetually open because of the steady flow of customers. And when I wasn't by the window, I was washing dishes. And when a car came up to the speaker, I had to take me and my sopping arms back to the cold window and dry the water off with icy winter air. I've done this before, but it especially sucked then - I got in a bad mood and stayed there most of the day. So I'm going through the motions, grumbli

well. that wasn't how I expected my morning to go. as always, I messed around on the computer in the Tech computer lab, slept through Science class, and slept before English class - you know, your typical Wednesday routine. to mix things up a bit from sleeping in the library, and because I didn't want to go outside in the now-cold winter air, I stayed in Nestor Hall and went to the quieter lounge downstairs. I slept hard, because last night I fell asleep on the couch and that means my sleeping sucked. I woke up, 15 minutes before I leave for class, and the day changed drastically. I'm just starting to pack up my bag when this heart-wrenching bellow comes from a man barely a dozen feet away from me. Everyone's head turned as one to see what was going on; I watched his black leather jacket with a red dragon emblazoned on the back, and the short dark hair on the back of his head, start shaking and twitching violently in his chair. Everyone waited and murmured worriedly for

I was on my computer all day yesterday playing with Windows Movie Maker for fun. And the, oh, 6 hours I was on there, I comprised a short slide show of Rennaissance Festival 2005. If that doesn't tell you how much spare time I have, nothing will. Anyways, I'm importing and saving and dragging and loading clips around like crazy, when half way through I find this pair of pictures with me waltzing around in full get-up with a shiny cell phone attached to my period ear. I started laughing. here, let me let you in on the story... At Renn Fest this year, I had the great misfortune of wearing a dress without pockets, shoes that weren't boots, and a cell phone to carry around. the camera case fit the camera too snugly, Jansy's magical bag of goodness was already full, so I had to find a place to put this small thing. I look left, I look right, I look down. Oh, sheer genius. Where else to put it? I was wearing a uniboob bra, and since my cleavage leans toward the smaller side,

so we just had our Thanksgiving linner...dunch...some meal between lunch and dinner, you know what I mean. And the meal was good and all, but that totally wasn't the best part of the holiday. Dude, the day isn't even over yet, and that is SO freaking exciting. so I'm chilling with my cousin Brian in his bedroom up here in Akron, and enjoying our down time. we're full of turkey triptophin (or whatever the sleepy enzyme in is that bird) and he's kindly allowed me to use his apple laptop. *pets laptop* purty....shiny....ooo...*wipes slobber from keyboard* so this is an experience for me - there's no describing the high I get from this. mm...shiny apple laptop... okay, I'm going to stop making out with my cousin's computer - I don't think he'll appreciate drool stains on here. speaking of Bri...we've only been together a couple of hours, and already we're thick as thieves and twice as much trouble. inside the first half hour, all the cousins

It's going to be SUCH a great Thanksgiving this year. I don't get nearly as excited about the turkey holiday as I do over Christmas, but this year it's going to be wonderful chaos: my aunt Sharon and her son Brian and daughter Libby, my Uncle Scott and Aunt Susan and their son Jake, and then Dad and me and Natalie and Erick all squished into my grandparents' Akron home. Will there be blood and carnage? You better believe it. But am I TOTALLY revved for this thanksgiving? No doubt about it. That's what makes this thanksgiving SO worth looking forward to and bearing interrogation and hiding in the bathroom away from my grandmother - Brian will be there with me, my best bud, my long lost identical twin, my brother from another mother. He's the one person who can incite me to troublemaking, and boy can we get into it. I completely forget that I'm a legal adult and go at it with him in everything. I talk with him on the phone in the bathtub, and there have been s

One of my favorite weekly traditions - if not my absolute favorite - happens every Monday night, after Xenos homechurch (which is basically a college-age bible study I highly recommend) when my boyfriend drops me off back home. We get back to the house a little bit early, and sit and talk in the driveway. Finally, a few minutes after I'm technically supposed to be inside, we stumble out of his abused Ford Taurus and make our way inside. Right on cue, Jay Leno's monologue is ending and he gets ready to do Headlines - a late night show tradition that has no equal, no, not even Letterman's Top Ten can hold a candle to it. As always, my little bro and sis are asleep upstairs and dad is either conked out on the couch or deep in his wine-red armchair fiddling on his laptop. And then the three of us watch Headlines together, laughing and crying from laughing and falling out of armchairs or couches from said laughter. Since Dave and I park ourselves on the floor, I just roll around

[thanks to traci: I stole this line from your blog - I liked it too much to leave it where it was on yours *smiles*] the internet is a wonderful thing, the way you can stay connected to people without ever actually interacting with them. it's easier...but I guess it's sadder, too. I know what's happening to friends hundreds of miles away, but I'm not actually in their lives, truly, right now. I wish I were. reading some of my friends blogs today made me miss them so much . a couple of years ago, Tricia introduced me to Traci (affectionately, Jewel) online as a girl who'd been her best friend in Virginia, the place she had just moved from. A few months later, I got to meet Traci and then go to the Maryland Rennaissance Festival with her and Kelly, but Kelly isn't Kelly, she's Jans. Traci is Jewel online, but Traci is Traci in person. Kelly is Jans online; Kelly is Jans in person; Kelly is Jans to me. Down in Virginia, I'm no longer Heather - it's the

I was trying to type out a short story today on Microsoft Word 2003 when Microsoft Word 2003's grammar check decided it didn't like the arrangement of one of my sentences. 5 minutes and 13 different arrangements later, the grammar check continued to mock me, saying "Passive Voice - consider revising." My hackles rose and I was thinking I'll show you passive voice when I realized I was about to cuss out a computer. Can you tell I haven't gotten enough sleep lately?

My brother's 11th birthday is coming up tomorrow and I got him THE COOLEST PRESENTS. He's the kind of kid who doesn't mind getting clothes as long as they're cool, so I was wondering around the woefully quiet City Center looking for present ideas. I meandered into the Disney store, surprised that it was still there, and poked here and there until I got the idea in my head to look for a shirt with Dash from The Incredibles on it, because that's his fave character of all time. I got there around 1:30 so it was absolutely dead in the store. Shuffling through the racks of shirts, I found a non-Dash shirt that was just too freaking perfect to pass up: a shirt with Mike Wazowski saying "I'm the little monster around here!". Scrambling for my phone, I asked mom, "What size shirt does Erick wear?" She told me the size of the shirt I was holding and did a victory dance. I thanked her and hung up, also delighted that the shirt was only a couple of bu

I skipped my science class today in order to edit an English paper I needed to work on. Well...I didn't really want to go science this morning, so I just used that as an excuse. Shame on me. But I've been on this computer for the past two hours and have finally accomplished something I could turn in at my eleven'o'clock English class. I'm just sitting here in the computer lab typing out my paper and have almost forgotten I'm wearing my namesake for this site. Just to explain a little what it looks like, it's an 8-point star with another 8 points visible behind or beneath the visible petals, and it looks a little like a poinsetta (you know, those red Christmas plants). For those who don't know, pagan stars have FIVE points (trust me, that's relevant later). Still with me? Now you know enough to understand this conversation some random computer lab helper guy intiated all of a sudden. "Can I see your necklace?" Okay, cool, so I lift it up for

I am so excited for Christmas already. Every winter I get totally sucked into the charming commercialism of the holiday season and love every second of it. Now that Halloween is over, the more ambitious of advertisors are starting to theme their commericials around St. Nick and holiday spirited feelings, and toy stores everywhere are grappling for air time so they can advertise the next big toy to scream KIDS! WANT ME SO YOUR PARENTS WILL BUY ME! A tradition I just started with myself a year or two ago is to walk around Easton mall at least 3 times in December before Christmas comes and just look at all the Christmasy window displays and giant tree all lit up and the snow falling on the buildings with pretty white lights trimming their eaves and hearing all the silly songs on the radio and belting out along with each one, especially "I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas" and "The Carol Of The Bells" - two very different songs, but my two favorite songs in the whole w

I doubt anyone has as cool a title for this blog entry as I do; and now that begs the question, what does your unconventional title about a diva and Turkish things have anything to do with writing one big paper about one little word? Well, let me clear up your confusion (I promise I'll eventually explain the title)... The word I chose to write about is 'dance', and I know alot of you are assuming right away, "Maybe Heather can dance." Ha. I laugh long and loud at that; the only dance training I have is a ballet class I took when I was three in my amazing little leotard and white tights covering my short chubby legs. The only dance experience I've had has all been crammed into my life recently - I went stag to homecoming at my little christian high school all 4 years, so I had to line dance all by myself. Then, all of a sudden this past spring, all my guy friends gave me a second glance, and I ended up being asked, and going to, three proms with a date for each

my grandparents are in town this weekend, which meant I got my usual hour-long verbal scouring of my life and the panicky attack of tiny stressed out screams after the interogation was over and they unbelted me from the metal chair under the dim lightbulb. I swear, all they haven't done is given me a labatomy and search my brain manually. my mom is getting married in January to a guy she's only been dating for 5 months; my best friend Tabby is engaged to her boyfriend after dating him for 6 weeks with plans to move in with him after the new year. it's been a crazy couple of weeks discovering these fascinating tidbits from everyone, and reflecting on myself and my boyfriend ...could I do the same thing at this very second ? He and I have been dating a little over 4 months, and I can't even conceive marrying him or anything of that nature within the next year. It just doesn't compute - flatly. So why do my mother, who's literally f%#@ed up every romantic relations

So the day started out in quite an interesting fashion, to say the least. Last night, we were up in Mt. Vernon at my dad's girlfriend's place, carving pumpkins all night. SO COOL. I actually got along with CeAnne's kids really well, what with all the flying pumpkin guts and baked pumpkin seeds my sister spilled. I wish I was more technologically savvy; I have some kick-butt pictures on my phone of all our pumpkins we slaved over. My dad and I, the most meticulous of the lot, spend two hours plus on our pumpkins. Okay, I had a pirate skull and the teeny-tiny teeth took up the second hour, so sue me - it was totally worth it. We get back late to our house because the drive is an easy hour, and then I find to my delight, after an hour of fiddling, how to copy my cd's onto my newly-room-acquainted desktop computer. Sum total of everything, I was up way too late, and still wanted to get up early and find out what classes I was going to need to register for the next day. But

upon reflection - in other words, lying in bed before falling asleep with random thoughts - I came across an odd revelation: my boyfriend and my cat are alot alike. now Henry is one of two cats my mother has at her house - he is soft, furry, and desperate to be given LOADS of attention. he gets locked in the cruel cold basement all day while my mother is at work so he won't ingest our lovable hamster and comes upstairs desperate for love. the funny thing is, he expects it by now: my brother is 10, my sister is 12, and he is their favorite toy. he gets coddled, tickled, rumpled, played with, squashed, squished, and hugged to death by at least one of them, if not both. and patiently he bears it, with a long-suffering look on his furry face. one day I came home from school before that little sibs (haha suckers! you have school till 3!!) and let him out of the basement, wandering back to the couch to read. I didn't touch him, cuddle him, pet him, nothing. then suddenly, he is on my

there are days when I look at my blog and groan, thinking about the time it would take to sit down and write an entry, because I wouldn't write and post anything I didn't like or put myself into. and when I need an incentive to put something else up...I read the comments tagged onto the end of another long entry of mine, and remember there are people out there reading it and checking to see if I added something else. and the rush from that gets my creative juices going once more, remembering funny stories and thinking of the day's events, wondering if I can make it enjoyable for one of you guys to read. So, I've been assigned the task of cleaning my room. In other words, I pulled out my handy jackhammer and put on my trusty hard hat, just to be safe. I don't think you could understand - my room is a Teenage Junk Landfill. I wouldn't be surprised if I find something living under my dresser, once I finally work up the guts to reach my arm under there and I hope it

so I went to a football game tonight and remembered why a part of me doesn't like fall. oh sure, my visual sense explodes with pleasure every time I walk outside, but every time I soak in the colors, my nervous system takes a shot. especially tonight when dear Autumn decided to freeze my butt off. literally. my thinly clad buttocks were on a frozen strip of metal for nearly three hours in The Middle of Nowhere (I kid you not, there is a cornfield right next door, which amused me muchly), otherwise known as Centerburg. My dad's girlfriend, CeAnne, lives up there, and the high school was having their homecoming game. Great fun, except for the fact that I was checking to make sure my extremities weren't turning black and falling off. I'm whining and it's not even that cold yet. wait for the whining to be posted in January, when there's no more holidays and it's just cold for no festive reason. oh, the euphoria then... anyways, at the concession stand, I got a b

so I was in science class this morning and we're learning about, but really more laughing at, the 'modern ideas' that the medieval age came up with. and we, as sophisticated college students, scoffed at them and chuckled to ourselves and shook our intelligent little heads. the professor covered all sorts of things, from the Elixer of Life to the study of Alchemy that these ancient Greeks fervently believed could be found. he asked what age we would want to stay at - a lot of people said 23. he said 50, that way he could wear white shoes and drive a golf cart in Florida after retiring for the rest of forever. (that's a direct quote, too, white shoes and all) one of our professor's favorite things to do is ask the class who read this morning's paper and the news on it. even in the middle of writing on the board, the chalk will sometimes squeak to a stop and he'll turn around to tell us something interesting that happened lately. So right in the middle of writi

me: "HA! Paper beats rock!" Dave: "Um...rock beats your thigh." me: "I still win." Dave: "Whatever."

between the two homes of my split family, I have four pets: one dog, two cats, and a black bear...hamster, actually. Honey, the big furry mutt, lives at dad's alone, and spends her free time in the yard crapping peeing and puking on the grass. and when she's inside? well, she does the exact same thing. and the color of our carpet? well, it used to be off-white...but now it's calico in spots. eww, gross, I know. more than once, my dad had threatened to toss her back into the pound inbetween specific phrases about the dog I really shouldn't repeat. another thing to do with animals is this: my mother, my sister, and myself, cannot stand spiders. we have serious major ridiculous arachnaphobia...or whatever and however you spell the fancy word for 'fear of spiders'...anyways. I can hold snakes, I can get dirty, and I get my hair greasy without any freak-out involved. But if there's a big fat wolf spider lurking in a corner of our basement waiting to spring on my

so I've had two run-ins with Katrina victims. the first happened at the beginning of September, when I was on vacation in North Carolina at Holden Beach with another 200 college-age kids down there for a week of fun. I didn't feel like swimming in the ocean one morning, so instead I walked up and down the beach for a good hour, enjoying a little quiet time by the ocean. Don't get me wrong, rambuncious crazy college guys and girls for a week on a beach is the most fun you'll ever have, but it was nice to get some time away from it so I could enjoy it more when I got back to it. Surprisingly, our intimidating numbers did not squelch the odd other vacationer or beach regular. so, during my beach stroll, I crossed paths with this guy (God forgive me, but I can't remember his name) and his dog. somehow, we got to talking. he asked where I was from, so I said from Ohio with a zillion other college kids; I asked him the same, and he said from New Orleans. I guess he rented

Everything starts with ice cream. Behind-the-counter Chubby brown-eyed baby Bringing in the college campus customers The biggest baby flirt you ever saw. Bathed in deep metal sinks in the back Young dad running the store with the baby Young mom still in school Learning to teach little older kids. I was an only child for Five whole years The only baby of three from The Upside-Down Penguin Ice-Cream Shop. I swear to this day Mint-chocolate chip ice cream Runs in my veins with the blood. Everything starts with ice cream From meeting Jessica Queeney at three (One old picture still left Of two smiling babies) To Coldstone cake-batter Reese’s pieces With a bunch of ‘pirate’ friends Tricia’s digital camera Storing every moment Of our scandalous sugary wickedness. Everything starts with ice-cream First date with this cute boy (I met him where I work at Wendy’s He ordered a side salad and a Frosty) Johnny Rocket’s corner-table Possibly gay? waiter He orders an iced tea With three sugar packets

I now have infamous grace in my family. so two days ago, while it was raining in the morning, my mother dropped me off at school. Scrambling, I shoved my worn work shoes onto my feet and scooped up my bag; seeing how my mother had to tutor a kid in 15 minutes, I really had to get going. Opening up my polka-dot umbrella and slinging my bag onto my shoulder, I closed the van door... Now let's pause, leaving our heroine in mid-stride. How long have I worn these shoes? a year. Do they have any traction after thousands of hours running around Wendy's? no, not really. Do they have any traction on a wet curb? I could defy the laws of friction in that envirionment . ...so our heroine's first step is miscalculated, and only her traction-less toe makes the curb instead of her entire foot. and down she goes. I didn't stand a chance. My hair and arms seemed puzzled by it all and tried to stay up in the air a split second longer, but my lower body knew I was done for. I stood up, gr

so this makes blog numero tres for me. so...we'll see how this goes, I guess. have fun, and please forgive the sarcasm to come.