Friday, January 29, 2016

Non-starter: A tale of a Friday night

We are told to be grateful in the midst of our trials, even grateful for our trials.

Ergo, I am grateful:

  • My car died before I got to the freeway.
  • I work out enough that I can push my car by myself and keep it in a straight line. In a dress.
  • For the guy behind me who did not make me try to push the car by myself and make a 90-degree turn.
  • For the two guys who pushed me farther away from the intersection so my night didn't include a shattered rear end.
  • That my insurance company pre-approved me just two days ago for a very good interest rate on an auto loan.
  • The weather is nice enough that standing outside tonight (and walking around town tomorrow) will be pleasant.
  • I don't have any absolutely necessary plans this weekend that require me to drive.
  • The tow truck driver was very friendly.
  • There is a mechanic literally 100 feet from my front door and it's open on Saturday.
  • I was wearing a long enough skirt tonight that when I climbed through the hole in the fence I didn't flash anybody.


And finally, I'm grateful the debate has been had. Yes, Androg has been a good car and for the most part has not been super high-maintenance. But he's 14 years old. This is the second tow in four months. The breakup probably (fingers crossed) won't be tomorrow, but that interest rate won't hang around forever. It's time.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Spring cleaning

In the midst of my rabid spring cleaning this weekend I discovered a letter I'd written to myself, age 15, to myself on my 18th birthday. Or, you know, almost 14 years later. It's a gem, so here it is word for word, though with updated punctuation because 15-year-old Heidi is a little too in love for commas for 33-year-old Heidi's taste.

Dear Heidi,
 This is a little strange; I've never written a letter to myself before. But my future plans. I want to graduate from seminary. I want to graduate as valedictorian from Roswell High. (You could have skied down that last line it was so crooked. This is why everything should be typed.) I want to attend UNC at Chapel Hill on a soccer scholarship, and I want to major in computer science and minor in engineering. I want to become a computer engineer or private programmer. I want to get married in the D.C. temple (I'd never seen it at the time. I think this was my I'm-going-to-marry-Prince-William phase and I liked the castle feel of the D.C. temple.) and have a family. I want to travel abroad a lot and try bungee-jumping, hang gliding, scuba diving, white water rafting and other stuff. I want to create something new, make the world a better place, live my life the best that I can and do SOMETHING with my life.
Sincerely, a worse signature than I currently sign on a computer screen with my finger

I giggled. Let's take a look at how disappointed 15-year-old Heidi would be.


  • Graduate from seminary: Check.
  • Graduate as valedictorian: Fail. I was No. 4. But my friend was valedictorian, so I wasn't too upset.
  • UNC on a soccer scholarship and major in engineering: Fail on all fronts. Where did that last bit come from, you ask? When I was in eighth grade I took a computer programming class. It was really fun. I sat next to the Tyrannosaurus rex, because the programming we were doing was basically from the dinosaur age. But it was fun, and I took an aptitude test that told me I would be a good engineer. To be fair, I do routinely engineer things. Well, food. I engineer food. I am an amateur food engineer.
  • Computer engineer or private programmer: Technically this is a fail, but I think we can all agree that actually being a computer engineer would not have gone well. Also, journalism was fun. So is PR. 
  • Get married in the D.C. temple: Fail. Also, this will never happen unless I'm actually living in D.C. this will not happen. It took 15-year-old Heidi a few years to realize that a good wedding is not perfect and in a castle, it is the shindig that involves the least hassle.
  • Family: Check. Pippi totally counts.
  • Travel abroad: Check.
  • A lot: Not fail. Still working on it. 
  • Bungee jumping, hang gliding, scuba diving, white water rafting, other stuff: Fail, fail, fail, check, check, I guess. However, 33-year-old Heidi has no interest in bungee jumping, and I have jumped out of an airplane, so I feel that is an acceptable replacement. I've gone snorkeling, which requires way less training than scuba diving but sort of works. 
  • Create something new: Check. Yes, spumoni pinwheel cookies absolutely count.
  • Make the world a better place: Check. See above.
  • Live my life, etc: I'm gonna call this a work in progress.
Maybe I should replace this letter with a note for 50-year-old Heidi. It would include: not hurting myself during marathon training; settle down on my own piece of land,grow peas and tomatoes, and somehow find a recipe that deliciously combines three of my favorite foods: chocolate, cheese and garlic. Here's to another random number of years of life!

Sincerely, an old woman who has got to go to bed already