Conversations with Jessie

Call time: 3:40 pm on Tuesday

Heather: Hello?
Jessie: Hey. What are you doing right now?
Heather: Um...I'm working.
Jessie: Oh, right.
Heather: Why do you always ask me what I am doing when you call me between 9 and 5 on a Monday thru Friday? What do you expect me to be doing?
Jessie: I don't know. Maybe one of these times you will say you are milking a cow or something.

Silence....

Jessie: So, are you busy?

Open wide.

At a recent trip to the dentist, I was thrilled to find out that all 5 of my oldest fillings would need to be replaced making me realize that parents should never give their children a hard time about the cavities they have to pay for since, apparently, you have to pay for them all over again.

I think it is pretty fair to say that no matter what you are getting done, the dentist is an overall unpleasant experience but I have decided that nothing is more demeaning than someone else flossing your teeth for you. On our recent trip to Oregon, I was reminded of the full-service only gas stations law in that state and Grant was having a very difficult time with it. As we would pull into a gas station he was utter things like, "What, do they think we are stupid?" and "Seriously, this is ridiculous" or "Um, hi, I can pump my own gas."

That is what I felt like as the hygienist was flossing me. I am not a child. When he was done he asked me, "Do you floss your teeth like that at home." To which my bloody gums responded, "Yes" because you and I both know you lie to your dentist about the frequency of your flossing habits. I said yes but what I felt like saying was, "No! No I do not floss my teeth like that! What the hell were you were trying to do? Saw my jaw in half!"

Then for the polish. What the hell is that? Did a bunch of dentists sit around a table and say to one another, "How can we make this experience more uncomfortable? I've got it, mix sand in the toothpaste!"

At the end of my appointment the hygienist handed me a wet-nap. I took the wet-nap and thought to myself, "Why that is odd, I do not recall eating any barbecued ribs at this appointment." In fact, the last time I checked, your hands are not usually involved in any type of dental work. I had no idea what to do with it, so I started to wipe my hands, then thought it must be for my face, but who puts a wipe on their face?

Honestly, the best part about the dentist is rescheduling knowing that you will not need to come back for another 6 months. I was robbed of that satisfaction as well as I will be back for two appointments to fix the wear and tear. Lucky me.

Converations with Jessie

Ode to Oregon

Mom, Dad, I don't think you know the full extent of this story so now might be a good time to close your eyes. Sorry for telling on you Jess:

The following are tips for how not to get caught by your parents if you are planning on taking a secret road trip: 1. Do not take pictures of funny road signs along the way. 2. Do not ask your mom to get the pictures developed for you but not to look at them.

Jessie: I drove to Oregon once. Remember that?
Heather: Oh yeah. Wait...I thought you only drove to Redding?
Jessie: Well Mom saw the pictures of the road signs we took along the way and we ran out of film in Redding so....
Heather: You are an idiot! You actually created your own evidence.
Jessie: Yeah. True story.
Heather: What did you even do in Oregon?
Jessie: We drove across the border into Ashland, ate a Subway sandwich and then drove home.
Heather: That's awesome.

Mom and Dad, you can open your eyes now.

Portland, Or

Grant and I took a little adventure this Presidents' day three-day to the great city of Portland, Oregon. The whole trip, in a way, started with a joke. Grant happened to notice that Ben Kweller, who I adore, was going to be playing in San Francisco on Monday, February 19th. I do enjoy a good show in the city but I am not as young as I used to be and Monday night? I would have to be to work early the next day, the show would be over late, etc...

"You know, he is playing in Portland on Saturday the 17th. We could go then."

Next thing we knew, we had a hotel room booked in another state, so we could go see a show on a Saturday because Monday night was just going to be too late. Perfect solution, drive a total of 20 hours there and back. That is not exhausting at all.

Regardless of what you think of our logic, it was a great time spent with my husband and stepping outside of my comfort zone and doing something totally spur of the moment and in many ways, ridiculous.

As I watched Ben Kweller rock the freaking house down, I thought to myself, "Are we crazy for doing this?" Maybe we were but maybe someday, when our kids say to me "Mom, tell me a story from when you were a kid," like I remember doing so many times, I will be able to say that one time me and their Daddy took a crazy road trip all the way to Oregon just to see a concert and really just because we could. We spent too much money and we ate too much dessert, but it was one of the best times we ever had together.

Best show on TV

I am really not normally a fan of action. I am not a violent person or one who enjoys watching that kind of thing. But there is something about 24 that I cannot get enough of. Maybe it is because the complete unrealistic plot lines make it almost believable. Maybe it is because Jack Bauer is a bad ass and can kill a man with his teeth. Or maybe it is because despite the seriousness of the subject matter, Grant and I always seem to have conversations like this one:

Scene: A nuclear bomb is found in an apartment building by none other than Jack Bauer and it will detonate without his steady hand and quick wit. He enlists the help of the very smart, yet very odd, Chloe at CTU to help disable it. He only has 3 minutes.

Grant: I love watching bomb dismantling scenes.
Heather: Why? Because they are so ridiculous?
Grant: Yeah. What, does she know how to dismantle every bomb? And it is always so ridiculous. 'OK, what you need to do is cut the 2nd and 3rd wire. That will open a box. In that box will be a picture of Johnny Carson. You need to trace around his face. But do not, I repeat do not touch his nose. Do you copy?
Heather: Yes, I copy. The box is open. Oh God! It is a picture of Jay Leno. Repeat! We have a picture of Jay Leno in the box!
Grant: Dammit! I must be looking at an old schematic!

Maybe you had to be there. Either way, nothing says good times and laughter like some explosions and a few Johnny Carson jokes!

I love my friends.

With the birth if my nieces, I knew that a lot of things about my life and the activities that I share with my friends would change. Things have changed and for that I am very, very thankful. I am so in love with those girls. But the truth is, we just can't do some of the same things we used to do. I mean, you just can't take babies to rock and roll shows.

Well....

See, the show was at a pizza parlor, not a bar. And it was their Uncle Joel's band so we thought we should all show up and surprise him. And surprise him we did and it was awesome.

Now just calm down because we were sitting all the way in the very back of the restaurant. Honestly, it just sounded like a loud radio was playing. And you know what, they better get used to it. Two of their uncles are rock stars for God's sake. The point is the babies were fine and it just goes to show that even though the day of their birth was a day that our lives changed forever, it was also a day that our lives changed for the better and no matter what we will still find ways to support each other and spend time with one another.

It was the babies idea anyway.

Conversations with Jessie

I came over to my parents house for dinner and upon my arrival my sister told me that we were going to the store. Reluctantly, I agreed to going. Agreed, only if she was willing to change. She was wearing a shirt with a hoodie...cute enough. However, coupled with a pair of dirty gray sweats, bright purple muppet-ish slippers, no makeup and who knows what was going on with her hair, for once, I actually looked better than her.

Heather: I don't want to go to the store.
Jessie: Yes you do.
Heather: I am not going to the store with you looking like that.
Jessie: What? Don't worry. I'll put on a bra.

My crazy mind.

Recently, Brittaney posted a dream she had that left her readers entertained, shocked and admittedly, slightly disturbed. It is worth a read.

Typically, I am of the belief that the only person who really cares about a dream is the person who actually dreamed it. Dreams only make sense while you are in the dream. When you start to explain it out loud you start saying things like this: "We were at the mall, except it wasn't the mall." Or, "I was at your house, but it wasn't your house but I knew it was your house, but you weren't there, but there was this other lady there, and like, she was you...blah, blah, blah."

The only person I really subject to hearing about my dreams to is my husband. He never remembers his dreams but in the morning I always ask him if he had any good dreams that night. This morning was no different. He then asked me if I had any. I did. Brittaney has inspired me to share, despite how I feel about sharing dreams with other. However, this one is kinda funny and I have a few readers who I think will find it entertaining:

I was at a restaurant giving a presentation for work and in the next room, John Vanderslice was performing. After my presentation I walked over to talk to him. When I went into the room, John was hiding in a loaf of bread. I said, "What are you doing." He poked his head out and said, "I'm hiding." The I told him that I wanted to go to his show on Wednesday at the Independent. That's all.

Grant said, "How was he hiding in a loaf of bread?"

"I don't know, like this."

"That's awesome."

So how was your day?

All I wanted to do was wear my pearls to work today. I don't know, I was feeling fancy I guess. Twenty minutes before I needed to leave (which is usually my coffee and couple minutes of a morning news program time) I went go to put the pearls on. Except that they are not there. So my last twenty minutes before heading to work were spent looking for the missing pearls.

I hate when I lose things. I mean, I can't think of anyone who enjoys losing their valuables but when I lose things like that I tend to panic and obsess about it until I am ill. My husband is a very patient man.

So I leave for work, thinking only about the pearls that I must have thrown away or accidentally donated to charity. I mean, I was not able to locate them in twenty minutes so the only logical explanation is they are gone forever.

Then I was almost hit by a bus. Excellent.

The work day seemed to go ok. Surprisingly, nothing terrible happened. Nothing seemed to be missing. This is shocking to me considering at this point I am pretty sure that the pearls are actually out to get me and intended to ruin my day. But before it would be time to search for the missing necklace again, I would be going to yoga. Calm, relaxing yoga. So I drive from home to pick up my mom, then on to class. As we pull into the parking lot of class I realize, I do not have my yoga mat. Ok, now I am about to drive myself into a bus. What the hell.

Now I am even more determined to find the pearls that I have convinced myself are living in a landfill somewhere. When I am trying to find something that I have lost, I am truly in rare form. If you are ever around I would recommend protecting your face and to watch for flying objects. I seem to turn into...well, I honestly don't know if it is Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde. Whoever the psycho one is.

No luck. I went through my purses, jewelry boxes, backpacks, cabinets and attempted to move furniture. I even tried to conjure the spirit of my great-grandmother, may she rest in peace, to tell me where they were.

By the time Grant came home, I was too exhausted to think straight. He went through a list of places I had already looked two and then three times. And just about as quickly as he said that he was sure it was not donated and would eventually turn up, I heard him say, "Honey. it is right here." Here was on the floor between the wall and dresser with just the little gold clasp poking out. This was about the time I broke down. Grant just hugged me and asked, "Are you just glad that you found your pearls?" To which I responded between sniffles, "I was almost hit by a bus today." Honestly, at that point, I am not sure if I was speaking literally or metaphorically.

It would mean having to live in my brother-in-law's attic....

I am watching Full House and it is the one where Uncle Jesse gets a record deal and Jesse and the Rippers are going to go on tour but at the same time Rebecca finds out she is going to have a baby and she just doesn't know how she is going to tell him. Getting a record deal would be the chance of a lifetime for Jesse and the Rippers. I mean, they had always planned on starting a family but not for a couple of years! And before you know it, the entire family knows about the baby. Everyone but Jesse that is. And that little Michelle just has the hardest time keeping a secret! Oh, the conflict! But when she tells him in that riveting game of Win, Lose or Draw (Cheese, 1/2, ink = she's having. What a hoot!) she realizes that although Uncle Jesse is nervous about the change he excited at the same time and ready to be a father and she had nothing to worry about all along. Sigh....

As I watched this episode the other day I asked myself two questions:

1. Why the hell am I watching Full House right now?

2. Why am I getting emotional over Uncle Jesse and Rebecca's unborn baby?

As soon as the famous "tender moment" Full House music started to play, my eyes started to well up. Well, Rebecca is married to a rock star and she gets to have a baby! I was actually jealous of and yearned for that moment on the cheesiest sitcom that ever was and that ever will be, so much so, it nearly brought tears to my eyes. I thought to myself, I want that!

Oh man. Maybe I should get a puppy.

Great Weekend

This weekend was one of the best. It started with seeing one of my best friends rock the mic like a vandal (quite literally) with his band Shayna and the Bulldog. It was good food, good drinks and great music.

And then, I got to spend the day with three of my favorite people, Brittaney and my nieces. It is so amazing to see brand new babies looking at the world around them. Everything is new and exciting. They are enthralled by things as simple as ceiling lights and are now at the point where they will stare at your face, as if they are studying every detail.

I am so lucky to be apart of these new experiences. For example, when Brittaney, the girls and I went shopping on Sunday, I was honored to be able to say to them, "Ladies, this is the Nordstrom shoe department. You must treat it with respect and honor and you will grow to love it."

Rescinded.

Fine! So I left out a few details. What's the big deal? Apparently my husband states that this was the "real" conversation we had.

Admittedly, I was sore and did not take any medication to help fix that problem. Which is exactly why I was asking for a massage! Hello...

And I guess he used the word "silly" and not "annoying" to describe my behavior. Well, silly may have been what was said but the non-verbal cues were screaming annoying!

It went something like this...

I am not feeling well and I just wanted Grant to rub my back before bed. Is that too much to ask?

Heather: Can you just rub my back? I am so sore.
Grant: Not tonight. I have a headache and I just want to go to bed.
Heather: Please. I am sick. (I'll admit, there was a little whinning)
Grant: You are so annoying about these things sometimes. And you have not emptied the lint trap in the dryer for like, three loads. It was like I pulled a sweater out of there the today.
Heather: What?
Grant: Sorry. I just thought of that right now.

1....2....47.

I have a new goal or myself. I will do 47 crunchs a day. I was going to set an arbitrary number but I figured that might be to lofty of a goal. Instead, the other day I decided to do as many crunches as I could. That number, 47. I know it doesn't seem like much, but now I know that I can do at least that many.

I have other things I plan on accomplishing in 2007. One of which is to find the perfect lip color and to not be afraid of a little bling.

Christmas 2006

We arrived at my aunt and uncle's lovely little cabin in the woods of Plain, Washington on Christmas Day. It was beautifully covered in snow. The landscape made it difficult to realize how cold it was outside but it was cold. None of that mattered since the cabin was powered by a nice electric central heating system. But see, the thing is an electric heater (and stove, water pump, fire place fan, hair straightener, blow dryer, blender...all the essentials) will only work if there is this fancy little thing called electricity.

See, it was really uncalled for when those trees fell on those power lines because it was right at the part in the movie when Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby had just gotten to Vermont and they were bringing the whole show up three days before Christmas to try to save the lodge from going under. And you know what? It is just not Christmas until I can hear those crazy cats sing, "Gee, I Wish I Was Back In The Army."

Well, the movie we had not, but a White Christmas, yes. It continued to snow and get colder. And an electric water pump meant no showers...or flush toilets. Yay! We all survived the first night and the next morning, still nothing. We drove into Leavenworth, which is a little Bavarian town with all the schnitzel and bratwurst you could ever ask for. We ate breakfast and shopped, but more importantly used every working toilet in the town.

Driving back to the cabin we had high hopes as we saw the Plain Valley lit up and beautiful. Not so much. Still no power at the cabin. It was night time again and it was getting colder.



Family meeting time! Frustrations were high at this point and there are really only so many "Donner Party" jokes that can be made before they all start to sound the same. And lets face it, there would be no drawing straws; the weakest were going to be the first to go.

Our choices were the following:
1. Brave the night. Load up on layers of PJ's and blankets and if there was no power by morning, pack up and leave.
2. Pack up the house and the cars in the dark in 12-degree weather and leave that night.
3. Make more Donner Party jokes.

Everyone was silent. We all looked at each other, huddled around the candlelit table staring at the bags of pretzels and beef jerky we would be eating for dinner. And to everyone's surprise, Grandma, (who was bundled up and looked like the little brother from a Christmas Story at this point) said with passion, "I say we stay!"

So we stayed. And we ate pretzels and beef jerky for dinner. We played Scattergories by candle light. We drank very, very cold wine and beer. We made more Donner Party jokes. It was the best.

And after 30 hours (give or take) we had power again.

I am sure as we re-tell this story as the years go on it will get a little more exaggerated and sound more like we were not just at a cold cabin on Christmas but in the seventh circle of hell. Obviously, we were all fine and we were not in any real danger. One thing I did think about as we were sitting in the dark with blankets wrapped around us was at least we were inside with a roof over our heads and that we had blankets to keep us warm and food and family around us. And when this is all over, we have a home to go to and this trip will be just another funny story to add the the vault and it is not really my life.

I am thankful for that...and that we didn't have to eat Grandma.

A little late but....

Christmas was an adventure this year. More to come later. As for now....

Merry Christmas from the Shellens!



(The giant, red Christmas balls you see in the background are courtesy of my dear friend Joel. He thought they would enhance the tree.)

A girl can dream...

When it comes to buying a house, I am very pessimistic. My husband regularly hears me utter, "We are never going to buy a house." Too which he responds, "Yes we will." I know, it is a riveting conversation.

But like, houses are like expensive and stuff. I mean, I'm all like, I have bills and like rent that is all, like, really expensive and stuff. And it like, makes it like, really hard to like, buy, like, a really great investment and all when like, I have to pay for all this other stuff like, every month. I'm all like, what the hell!

And the process itelf of buying a house is terrifying. When I hear people talk about all the steps and paperwrok involved, I actually turn into that 15 year-old-girl quoted above.

"Wait, your escrow closed? Oh know, when will it open again?"

You see what I mean.

One of the things I have discussed with Grant is the possibilty of us having to aim low. I am talking low. We live in the Bay Area for God's sake and we are not planning on going anywhere. So I am saying if we want to stay here, our first house is going to have be purchased in a city that no self-respecting Bay Arean would choose to live unless forced. Grant wants to live in Palo Alto. As far as I am concerned that is never going to happen unless he puts "East" in front of that city.

I realize the following conversation may cause a stir. Please note, it was Grant that made the comment:

Heather: Maybe someday when Madison and Ella are old enough, they will ask, "Mom, why haven't we seen Uncle Grant and Auntie Heather and our cousins in a long time?" And then Brittaney will say, "Well, because Uncle Grant is a rock star and he is on tour again."
Grant: Yeah right. No, I think it will go more like this:

Hypothetical Babies: Mom, why haven't we seen Uncle Grant and Auntie Heather and our cousins in a long time?
Hypotheitical Brittaney: Well, because they live in Hayward now...and we don't go there.

He is finally coming around.

Just like they always say...

All that glitters...is probably covered in glitter.

Happy Holidays!

Oh Well....

Germs don't listen to Haikus.

I am sick. Yeah!

The Art of Denial

No, I am not sick
And a sore throat, I have not
Airborne is my friend