Popularity Index

I periodically Google myself to see how my goal of becoming the top Heather Meyer search is going. Stilling finding myself in a room of other me s. I searched my name and Zombie Sweater.






I found my film on these websites:

http://www.frequency.com/video/zombie-sweater/96321

http://www.nailseacourt.com/index.php?key=heather+meyer

http://videos.wittysparks.com/id/1985673868

http://trendingtopicsblog.com/entertainment/zombie-sweater/

I have no idea what these websites are, but they seem to be something that happens to famous people. 

I am well on my way. 

I think this is the first short story I've written since high school.

I think this is a short story. I don't remember, I haven't been in high school English class in a while. 

Lather, Rinse, Umbrella Drinks.

By

Heather Meyer

            He turns to me and asks,” Have you seen this one Family Guy…”

            “I hate it when you start sentences like that.” I interrupt. No, I wasn’t supposed to fall for an improv actor. Especially not an improv actor on a cruise ship. 

            I had seen him perform. The show was fun because jokes about seasickness and buffets are always topical; at least they were topical on a cruise. Later, he was teaching an intro to improv class in the Stardream Lounge.

             To the class, I deliberately wore a bright sundress to distract from the minefield of inflamed acne that had erupted on my back. He was friendly, funny and fleshy. He had an unparalleled smile, meaning his teeth were not parallel, that they were a bit askew. As the class finished and the ships’ elders dispersed, he said to me, “You look young and fun.”             “And you are husky and observant,” I answer back baiting him with a smile. He returned the grin with his lips stretching around his two rows of linearly challenged teeth.

             In lounge chairs on the Lido deck, we exchanged the predictable autobiographical details. Then we found ourselves, correction, found myself whipping out my ship card to purchase two rum concoctions in bright pink cups festooned with umbrellas and pineapples. My bacne was starting to itch from the sun, but I refused to scratch it to avoid an incident with pus and blood so soon in a date.

            One fruit-lined rum drink lead to another and then to five, now that I was ambitious, I leaned forward to kiss him but ended up grazing his cheek in a drive-by snogging.  “Follow me,” he said so clichéd-ly with a wink that almost distracted me from his rickety pirate teeth. He walked toward the elevators. “Not in the elevators!” I whisper in a sudden display of conservatism. “We’ll take the stairs,” he answered again with that wink that I was starting to think might be a facial tick.

            In the movies, we would have slid laughingly down the banisters together. In reality, my fruity rum buzz and lust for mediocre comedy were waning with every series of endless stairs. So many staircases, I regretted my prudishness towards the elevators, at least then the zits on my back wouldn’t have been flaring up from the sweat. We finally reached the last stair, the last stair on the ship; there was no further down we could go.  I felt like I was on the bottom of the ocean, and yet I was still somehow on a cruise ship. We had reached his cabin. Yes, cabins on cruise ships are small, but this was a water closet. There were four beds, two on the floor, two lofted and eight inches separating them.

            “Are we at camp?” I ask.           

            “If by camp you mean Poseidon’s sex dungeon,” He improvises so wittily. Then, his distorted dentals were at me. Soon my lips grew tired of dodging Stonehenge and since I was already on the bed and my sundress was on floor we move toward deeper waters. He explored my coastline and I discovered his mast was just as crooked as his smile.

            Afterwards and after-glowing he rubs his hand on my back as if to read the Braille that was my bacne asked what my sign was. It was such a retro question, I wondered if the tidal pool betwixt my legs had become a time warp. I looked over at him and he just smiled his imprecise, boulder toothed smile and replied, “Have you seen this one Family Guy…?”

Who's on the table? The Cast of Condiments.

Salt and Pepper: Super gay

Sugar: Girl next door

Sweet and Lo: Slut!

Equal: Lesbian

Ketchup: It's not a party with out Ketchup!

Splenda: Porn Star hot, created in a lab or on an operating table. Incredibly attractive. Hates

A-1: Super man (not like the hero, just really manly)

Tabasco: depressed, like that blue mule from Winne-the-Pooh

Mustard: Who invited Mustard? He never showers.

Coffee Creamers: That annoying clique of unattractive yet really made-up girls

Even more validation Day 23 and Day 24

Yes! My pic from yesterday is a highlight. Looks like I am on the awesomeness radar now!

I took this photo yesterday while waiting for a table at Carson's in Chicago. I was tired and lazy from huge airport delay at MPS that morning then a sprint from back of cab to instant onstage comedy.

It's a cool ceiling light. I wanted to see if each of the light arms bent any which way but I was on the floor and it was on the ceiling.

This is the creativity for today:

Art. 

VALIDATION!!!!!

After faithfully creating something everyday and writing yesterday's long photo/blog post detailing my highlight reel ambitions....today on the 22nd day, I have become a highlight!!! Dreams really do come true.

My creation from yesterday made it on the highlights for June 21st!

I was here. Uptown Cafeteria and Support Group and it is as cool as it seems but there is a patio and $5 martinis (that are more like lemonade in a triangle glass). I ordered a Monte Cristo, to which the waitress said, "That's a bold choice," forcing me to up the ante (reminiscent of this not the crush part, the underestimation of me by waitstaff)  and order fries along with it. Bring on the fried-ness. My heart attack will be worth it.


I am taking full credit for this creation even through other people were there. (And I spent much of my time eavesdropping on the blind date behind me) Steph tried to put a ray gun (fried bit of Monte Cristo) on one of the guys but it fell off. Alex helped too somehow but I don't remember how. Mary moved one of the guys into place, so I guess she was like a choreographer. Michaela did stuff too but I mainly remember myself bossing her around to move the silverware out of the photo.

Here is what I made today.

(It's sideways, just move your computer, dummy)

Really pushing at the highlight reel again. Once is never enough, obviously (Naomi's been up there at least three times!)


There were a lot of links in this blog post. Good work at stating the obvious, Heather.

And a lot of name-dropping happened here, that is if my friends were famous.
(But Sven Sundgaard was there wearing a bright orange workout jersey and being all short and pseudo-famous.)

Days 21-11 of 30 Days of Creativity! And my obsession about the highlight reel.

Here's what's been up:    This was yesterday's (day 20) creation.

I was in Chicago and this looks all types of artsy/photography-y. But my real creativity was un-photographable ability to eat a fig in a blanket. Yes, fig not pig.

Moving along backwards: Day 19

We tried to put the cat in a tu-tu but he was much to masculine

Day 18: Silly Putty

I was lazy but thought Silly Putty would appeal to the geeks and get my stuff of the 30 Days of Creativity Highlight Slideshow

Day 17:

Easy way out.

Day 16: 

Origami Jumping Frog! Out of someone's business card, sorry Metro Sound and Lighting

Day 15: 

I saved a pigeon. Don't worry there will be a blog about it later. Took it to rehab.

Day 14:

TV sitcom pitch: Short Attention Dan and Manta Ray O'Conner. He's little and affectionate, she's a supreme court fish.

Day 13:

Beans and plastic fish (Why was this not on the highlight reel? Combining foods and non-foods is always spectacular!)

Day 12: 

Totally lazy and sick of not being on the highlight reel, I take the easy and pretentious route.

It is the shadow of a bowl on my table. 

Day 11:

Again, really lazy and busy, I tried to make something smart enough to be on the highlight reel. 

Purity Rings, Class Rings, Engagement Rings, Wedding Rings...now Single Rings?

Here's I what I have to say about that.

Geisha Dates at the Airport

I am not a geisha but I am pretty sure men at the airport think so.

First example:

Me sitting by myself trying to figure out my smart phone. A man in uniform enters, I think, "I am annoyed at you for wearing your uniform." I glance down the sparsely populated gate area at people on laptops and the instant I have the thought, "I wonder if people ever meet in airports anymore since we all have screens to keep us company," uniform man sits right next to me, with only my carry on separated us (since is was on the seat next to me and I was on the aisle.). Then he starts talking to me. He says something about my bag and keeps talking. And talking to me. He is 32, a doctor in the army and Jewish. He also has poor teeth, a slight beer belly and has missed his flight because of being drunk by himself in New Orleans at a bar called the Dungeon.

I realize he is using me for my conversation. I am not geisha.

He talks to me for hours. I know everything about him. Except his name but on his uniform is said 'Ritch". He raw away from home, blah, blah, blah. I my Larry King on and I just keep asking questions about his life. He does not inquire about me at all even after he mentions that he loves aquariums and I insert how I used to work at an aquarium. I would think that would be a great opening to learn about the pretty girl that you are using to conversationally entertain you while you wait for your standby opening on the New Mexico flight. But no, more about him. That is when I have realized I am entertainment. Free attention of an attractive young woman at the airport is what it was. I was not impressed with his doctoring because he was not attractive nor funny. But yet he kept talking to me.

I could have stopped talking and pretended I had important things to do but I am not a liar and I also have a four hour wait at the airport. And I had the secret audience of my brother sitting in the gate row in front of me, eavesdropping but not saving me from the conversation.

So he kept talking, finally, he left after I was witness three hours of a oral autobiography's.

I am not a geisha. They get paid to entertain like that.

Then there was another time, but we were seatmates on the plane and that was a lot more fun and attractive. It was fine being the geisha for that (because he was more attractive and funny) (and we kept in touch.)

Lesson learned: Geisha Heather accepts money or in lieu of cash will accept hours of attractiveness and humor.

And I am flying to Chicago twice next week, so hopefully I'll get more attractive funny patrons. 

Day 10: 30 days of, you know, so here's the truth.

Today I did this:

Like a overweight football fan I painted my eye. Not to support a team with my fleshy brightly hued body, but to be creative for 30 Days of Creativity.

No, that's a lie. I did it not just for the innocent soul of creativity but to try to get listed as a highlight on 30 Days of Creativity. Everyday the website lists about 15-20 'highlights' of the previous day. Everyday I look for mine and so far, nothing. I want to be a highlight. I want the attention and recognition that the weird stuff I make is something too. (Look, insecurity, the mask slips, I am a honest person! Awards all around!!!). I like being noticed (see this self-centered blog post.

I like attention. I know it. I have a Twitter account and a blog. 

So I painted myself. For attention.

The photo above is sort of artsy, I thought people might think I took a photo of a dancer before an emotional emoting movement piece.

But it's my eye

and below my eye was a dinosaur.

 

Sad, weird clown am I.

ROAR!!!

The 'est' in the room.

I hate the 'est' in the room. The smartest, the shortest, the tallest, the whitest, the blackest, the clumsiest, the fattest, the thinnest, the youngest, the oldest, the dumbest, the girliest, the manliest, the meanest,the most average-est, the richest, the poorest, the honest(est), the funniest, the serious-est and forever.

Why? Why do I hate them?

Well, look.

Welcome to the Party

A short play.

By Heather Meyer

The Most Average-est:
Hi Bingo, how are you? This birthday party smells weird.

The Shortest:
Oh, I know I can barely see over everyone's crotch so imagine the smell I am smelling. I wish I could blow my nose but I can't reach the tissues.

Smartest Person:
The reason the smell is so thick in this room is because the cake has been baked with feces folded in to the frosting, I can tell because I had a book published about my hometown once.

Girliest Person:
It smells like sparkles. I like sparkles. Oh pink. I am such a girl.

Fattest Person:
Hey, here I am, tons of fun is here!

The Honest(est):
You're obese and you are making the smell worse. I am just being honest.

(The Fattest punches the Honest(est))

The Manliest:
Oh! Right cross, nice do you work out? What about the MMA fight last night? I kept thinking about it as I was parking my monster truck on top of some pussies(men not cats or lady bits) outside the fighting cage this morning.

The Fattest:
I would but I am too fat to ride horses so I can't work out.

The Most Average-est:
(to The Honest(est) who is still on the floor bleeding)
Are you alright?

(The Clumsiest trips over the fallen The Honest(est))

The Honest(est):
Ouch! I am already bleeding and I don't have health insurance.

The Smartest:
According to the new health care reform you will get fined for that, I know because I had a paperback book about my hometown published ten years ago.

The Clumsiest:
Oops! My bad! I am so clumsy! That is why I can't have nice things.

The Honest(est):
Or nice friends.

The Meanest:
(Pointing at The Honest(est))
Bitch!
(Pointing at The Clumsiest)
Stumpy whore leg!

The End.

Sometimes I email myself notes and find them a year later

That Movie with the blue guy, Watchmen.

So what is with Dr. Manhattan's underpants? Why does he where them when he is quite
comfortable naked or when wanting to appear decent he wears the suit. Why the
underpants? Fleeting modesty? Or does he crave support sometimes? Just sometimes
though.

I'm glad I didn't have to see his parts when he was huge. That is like Clifford the
Big Blue Dong. Not nearly has helpful but as comical as the orginal Clifford.

Day 8: Ninosaur

Beware the Ninosaur!

Blogging about a blog

This blog, New Dress a Day is brilliant. The author, Marisa, inspired by the movie Julie & Julia (which inspires me to hope that this blog will also be a movie filled with a Oscar winner and nominnee), challenged herself to not buy any new clothes the entire year. Instead she gave herself a budget of $365 to spend on only thrift store duds that she then rehashes and slashes in to brand new awesomeness!

These are the type of things I want to pretend to be able to make. I am so excited someone is realizing my dream for me!!!

Look at her go!

Day 7:Creativity: Things in Wigs

A wig on stuff.

Day 6: Stuff that I have had for years

I had a silk scarf painting kit that I purchased at a thrift store in 2006. One of my secret motives with the 30 Days of Creativity is to do the projects that I have been storing the supplies for for years. This kit was one of them. My goal wasn't to be awesome at silk painting but to just do it.

This kit came with everything I needed. I did need to by new resist (to draw designs and not let the colors run together, thus resist blending), but that was only $3 at Dick Blick and 45 minutes of wonder and awe in the store.

I hated the design that you were 'supposed' to do with the kit, so I ignored the pattern and drew one of my own. Citrus fruits, that is what I sort of drew. Then I just painted away, ignoring spills and order.

Here is a section of it, before I made the colors 'inedible' and hung it up in the shower to dry, that is where it still is. It's not going to be all over the runways this fall, but it is done. 

Millions for me!

Day 5 of creativity

For a Saturday, I thought my outfit counted as my creative thing. It was a good outfit for going to an art thing. The dress was magical find from the sale rack at Cliche and the belt is a scarf that someone (!) gave me from Ecuador. And there are birds on my necklace. I match the art. Oh yeah, it's really all about wearing royal blue shoes.

 And look at all that art! That art is by Brian Bruce 

Magnets are technology!

Suck on these baked potato nipples magnetic poetry!

Day 3 of 30 days of creativity

I didn't know what to make and couldn't believe that I was stuck already on day 3 so I grabbed some scrap fabric, stickers and nonsense and made this:

It's a puppet.  I am afraid of it too.

In other news I offended someone today and then won them back with my charm and I proposed marriage to the NorthrupKing Building.

out!

Two Funny things and Day 2 of 30 Days of Creativity.

Funny thing number one that happened today:

(Heather staples canvas to a wall.)
Heather: Is this crooked?

Nate: Yes.

Heather: Do I have to fix it?

Nate: Only if you won't remember it is crooked.

Heather: I will repair it.
(Heather turns to back to canvas and starts to take it down.)
Heather (subconsciously): Reparo.

Nate: Did you just cast a "reparo' spell on that?

Heather: Yes?


Funny Thing Number Two:

This!!!

And this!

And this!

Obviously, my Day 2 of #30DaysofCreativity was making an eyeball necklace, but due to my none-gothiness, the look wasn't me. But it was Cooper's he is so goth. He is so goth, he didn't really care for wearing it, which made me laugh and laugh at his discomfort.

So angry. So funny.

I am not the most awesome at making stuff. But so far I have painted on the cover of a magazine and made eyeballs. I do think I have a particular aesthetic. I think the eyeball necklace fits right in with my film-making art direction in the now famous Zombie Sweater!!!




Here's the Internet version, but I can tell you or Donny Dirk's Zombie Den can tell you the DVD is even better, if you can believe it!

30 Days of Creativity or As I like to call 1 month of reasons to procrastinate!

I pledge my Twitter soul to 30 Days of Creativity. I pledged my Twitter soul that I would make stuff everyday in June.

Today I made this:

Zoey Deschanel looks so pretty! And so sideways!

Yeah, you can pay me money for it.