Beggar's Shot Glass

Feeling Disconnected

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 15:39:00 +0000

Not only has my beloved bestee been away (I have too, it's an awkward vacation from her... erg), but then I jumped on the speeding bandwagon that is Huckdoll's Hood for the Disconnect Hour. It's the cyber version of Earth Hour, yo.

Huck's inviting us to tell her what we did with our hour as long as it's G-rated. I would have done something of the triple x variety last night about that time, but I had to work and we had already, um, traded massages earlier that afternoon. No, really, we traded massages. You don't believe me? Well, you shouldn't, but anyway.

OooohhhhhKaaayyy, let me seeee.

Well, between 9 and 10pm I was in the cooler at work prying the moldy floor boards from the floor with a butterknife and saturating the floor with Grim Gone floor cleaner to release years of uck and ick and sticky gook. And, thankfully, none of that sticky gook was of the triple x variety. In my line of work I have, unfortunately, managed to find myself cleaning up somebody else's wet spot. Gross, eh?

Is that considered cheating on the disconnect hour?

Okay, well, when I got home, I didn't turn on the computer, as per usual. Instead, I read the last of my new book, Odd Hours, which I finished at 3:45am, after which I crashed into bed. As far as Dean Koontz and Odd go, I was disappointed. Not as many dead people as I like and the entire active plot took place in less than one day. BUT, I did enjoy the story, even when I nearly vomited on page 201 because something I thought would NEVER happened did. I had to stop reading it right then to regain my composure. It is rare that a book would move me to experience raw instincts as if I was right alongside the star. But it happened, for the fourth time, with Odd Thomas last night.

I'm not going to give many more spoilers on that, but that I still recommend it. As I recommend weekly treatments of the disconnect. And daily, or at least every-other-daily treatments of the triple x variety.

Ta-Ta on Tuesday

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 17:38:00 +0000

Today, I'm following Huckdoll's lead and shutting off the computer for one hour.

Tuesday, July 1 @ 9pm

Step Away From The Computer (TV, Blackberry, Cellphone) Hour

Better than that, I'm shutting it off for the ENTIRE NIGHT. I guess it helps that I have to work tonight, and there's this little thing called a cast on my daughter's foot that kinda steals my attention away, and OH, I almost forgot, ODD THOMAS IS BACK!!! (He's my favorite fictional character.)

Anybody who knows me knows I am an HUGE Dean Koontz fan. My Koontz library grows by the month. It started with Life Expectancy and I was hooked. Last month I expanded my library by reading about Christopher Snow and his Mystery Train. Imagine, for a second, how I reacted to reading that Odd Thomas in Odd Hours was not only wearing a shirt emblazened with "MYSTERY TRAIN" but one with "WYVERN". You didn't imagine it, did you? You... SUCK.

Here, I'll make it easy for you. I gasped, read it again, squealed, wiggled, and then I turned to Josh sitting on the opposite end of the couch. "See this?!" I shrieked, jabbing a stubby little finger at page 4 repeatedly. "It's Mystery Traaaiinnn! From Seize the Night!" [excited squeal] Josh, of course, looked unfettered by the news, but replied, "Stephen King does that with his stories too, takes pieces from one series and plunks them down into others." (Mystery Train was first mentioned in Fear Nothing, but took on an, ahem, life of it's own in Seize the Night.)

He did not succeed in squishing my enthusiasm. I am now halfway through the book, and I am purely confident I will not return to the land of blogs until it is all over, say, sometime on Thursday.

But tonight, tonight I am jumping on the Huckdoll Bandwagon and staying off the internets. My mother would be so proud!

Boobs Have Talent

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 23:59:00 +0000

There are a variety of ways one can use their breasts in a useful manner.

I happen to use mine to get free beer chips, catch food, seduce my husband, check my speed while running (or, alternatively, check the wear on my bra), comfort me, boost my confidence, nurse my children when they were babies, and, you know, other things. But I never thought to use my boobs this way.

Have you ever opened a bottle of beer with your girls?

She did:

And she appears to:

But THIS woman CRUSHES cans with her tit. Looks painful. Not just to have boobs that large, but to crush cans with them? Tits, man!

Don't tell me boobs can't be useful. Eh-eh... SSHHH! I don't want to hear it!

One more funny video... It's about RESPECT, guys. Don't look at the breasts (unless they are mine, I don't mind).

Ouch!

Marriage Will Change You

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 21:33:00 +0000

Marriage, as some of us know, will change you. These are some of the things I never heard, said, or expected (or gave) an honest response to before marriage:

"Did you fart?" (or answering yes when asked)

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Does this make my butt look big?" (no longer rhetorical, I really DO expect Josh to be honest here)

"You might not want to go in there for a few minutes." (fans nose)

"Are my boobs sagging? They're sagging, aren't they? Oh...mygod, they've totally disappeared into my armpits!!" (this doesn't happen anymore since I built up the pecs underneath them, by the way.)

"Oh come ON! Whoflickedaboogeronthewall?!"

"Somebody didn't put the [item left out] back where it belongs!" (I'm usually the complainer AND the guilty party for this one.

"I haven't shaved since last Tuesday. [pause while getting 'the look'] What?! It's not like anybody's looking anyway!"

"How did that get here?" (can be applied to a number of things, really, use your imagination if you must.)

Do you have any to add?

On His Own

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 17:40:00 +0000

I completely forgot a HUGE tidbit of positive news from last weekend (is it really THURSDAY already?).

The Boy stayed with family while Josh and I were at the hospital. Guess what he decided to do, all on his own, while we were not looking? He rode a bike without training wheels for the first time! And he's been doing it all week long too.

I know she's getting better because yesterday we had a HUGE fight. Me and her. Mother and crippled daughter. It started with a bowl of spaghettios. Seriously. I'm not going to go into the specifics but I can say that I learned a lot about myself as well as about her. Today, while sitting on the couch talking to my mom, she lifted her casted leg into the air, straight up! What a sight that was to see. I KNOW she's feeling better.

The only challenges we have left for the next 2 1/2 weeks are stairs and showers. We tried a bath, that was most difficult. A shower might be easier if I can figure out how to waterproof this cast.

More thank yous for the support so far, and to Beany for sending along a get well gift to her! I'm going to get back to regular blogging eventually.

Can I Ramble On Some More?

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 15:00:00 +0000

Forgive me now if I don't comment on your blogs or write often. I am still feeling a bit detached, as if I've aged months and not days. I feel blessed as all gets out that her injury was relatively minor considering how much worse she could have been hurt. I also appreciate all you've done, all of the comments, emails, prayers, and positive thoughts!

Sunday afternoon, after we brought her home, she spiked a fever. We waited, even though the discharge papers said to take her back if she did. We waited for my mom, a retired LPN, to show up and assess the situation. This is because neither the ER nor Dr. G.'s office had a way to reach somebody to ask the question dripping from our tongues, "How high is too high?".

My mom and my mother-in-law both showed up, with food. We had a large supper, but I couldn't eat. I was detached; hanging onto her burning skin and plunging that thermometer into her mouth every five minutes. Mother-in-law suggested the activity of coming home excited her. Mom gave her a cool pack wrapped in a towel under her back, and I slapped a lukewarm washcloth on her forehead ("Ouch, mom, that's COLD!!!"). She was lucid and bossy, but hot.

Then, within a half hour, it broke and it hasn't come back. I had my sneakers on and the keys on my beltloop the entire time anyway. When it dropped to normal, I hung up the keys and slipped out of my sneaks and finally got something to eat. I didn't realize I had made myself so weak over the weekend. I got a total of four hours of sleep and maybe... MAYBE... two meals worth of food over the weekend. It's not that I didn't try to eat. I did. But every time I did I would start to worry and my stomach would lurch and... I couldn't eat.

Saturday afternoon was one of the meals. Josh and I were kicked out of her room by my mom so we went to the cafeteria to eat. Being there with Josh, feeling secure and knowing she was safe upstairs, I was able to eat something. I had a small order of french fries. Best fries I've ever had, oddly enough. It was also that afternoon that I got my four hours of sleep. I leaned on Josh so much. We leaned on each other.

Yesterday I watched with wonder and awe as Lauren decided to use the walker MORE. I reminded her that Dr. G. wants her to walk on the foot, just not without help. The walker was to help her learn to walk again, not to keep her from moving altogether. I also had to remind her that just because she's not feeling well it doesn't mean she can be rude and mouthy to the people around her. Manners get her further than her walker will.

She is doing much better now though. So much better. It's such a relief. She sat outside on the porch for a short while and read some books. She sat next to the window (the broken bits removed completely). Yes. The window she cartwheeled into on Friday. It sends shivers up my spine to see this. It was bittersweet.

That's my Granddad's walker too. He passed away when Lauren was four months old, but Nana still had it in her garage. Lauren thinks it's 'neat' that she is using her Great-Granddad's walker. I think it's neat that she's up and about.

She's Home Safe

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 18:11:00 +0000

What a weekend. Thanks to Beany for keeping me connected to the outside world via a gadzillion texts!!!!! If I had twitter set up on my phone I would have done that, but I haven't bothered to set it up yet.

Anyway, here's the rub. She's home now, just got home a little while ago. She has a walking heel on her cast, but is still supposed to limit mobility and keep her foot elevated. She has to be in the cast for only three weeks now (cause for celebration!). Dr. G. said not to get her cast wet or he will be very very very mad, and I believe him. He's an awesome guy, but... I just believe that he'd be mad, and let's leave it at that.

Things I have learned this weekend:

1. She has a low tolerance for any kind of pain, something hard to watch.

2. Josh is an AWESOME Daddy. He was the only one who could calm her down, and he did so by leaning in real close and holding both her hands in his and talking softly to her about happy things while the hardest, most painful parts too place. He nearly lost it a few times, but held it together for her sake. I've never seen the man so close to tears the entire eight years I've known him. That's love RIGHT THERE.

3. This one is a doozy, sit down this rant will take a few minutes.

Her sperm donor is a big fat jerk, and unfortunately Lauren knows this first hand now. He would not leave work early (although under FMLA he had every right to), came in the middle of her surgery and the first thing out of his mouth, I shit you not, was, "I bet she won't do that again." Really? Asshole. I just gave him a look. Knowing her, she will probably be just as accident prone as before, but not around windows. Still. My first thoughts were, "Is she OK? Is she in any pain? How can I help her?" THEN he complained that Dr. G. met us after the surgery (exhausted and ready to head home himself) in his street clothes that he came in wearing, which were dirty (obviously he had been enjoying his Friday before getting called in for Lauren). THEN, when I asked Lauren which parent she wanted to stay with her the first night, he was all too quick to shake his head no before she could answer (thankfully she was choosing Josh and not him), and to add that he had to work the next day. This is his child, for fuck's sake. Compassion? Is it in there?

Yesterday he brought his other kids to visit with her. Visit. Not stay, not stand vigil by her side or hold her hand, not ask her if there is anything she needs, not to bring her flowers or a balloon or even a fucking card... just to stand there and visit and offer her the obligatory make-himself-look-good-as-a-parent hug and kiss goodbye. He's lucky I wasn't there at the time. My mom was with her so Josh and I could get some sleep, because you just can't sleep in a hospital when your child is next to you recovering from pain and surgery, yannow?

Today? He hasn't called her. He didn't have to work until the afternoon. No call, no visit, NOTHING. She's hurt, but she knows Josh is her Daddy.

4. Have you ever heard that keeping a regular routine will help you if you face upset? It doesn't, not when you're the mom and you're at work third shift knowing your 'baby' is in the hospital sleeping off her Tylenol with Codiene. Josh was with her while I was at work, but I was not focussing on my job at all. I left early this morning after getting all the 'basics' done, but I am not elligible for FMLA because I work less than 20 hours a week, and I cannot afford to lose money right now.

5. I have NO IDEA what CHIP covers, if we are facing exhorbant copays or not. I need to find out, but I'm petrified we will be looking down our noses at two or three grand worth of bills. BUT, BUT.

6. I don't really give a fuck.

7. Because my precious child is home and safe and getting better. That's all that matters, no?

Thanks for ALL of the lovely support and comments and texts and emails and stuff you've done for me. Do me a favor and head over to Beany's blog especially to give her big hugs. She is a super-fantabulous best friend who kept me sane through all of this.

BIG HUGS EVERYBODY!!!

Not Here

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 01:29:00 +0000

I'm not going to be online for sure this weekend.

This evening, around 5pm, my daughter did a cartwheel on the porch and her foot went through the living room window. She lacerated three tendons and one vein on her right foot, and she's in a lot of pain (or not anymore because of a medicinal cocktail of feel-good things). She had surgery tonight to repair them, but she is in a plaster cast for 8 weeks, on crutches for four weeks. I think I've got this all correct. I promised her I would be back shortly, so I can't write up a long post for y'all. Just a little explanation why I'm not going to be around much. She is in the hospital until Sunday morning.

Just something you take for granted, health, that is. I'm so glad it wasn't worse. I'm still shook up though.

Go hug your kids real tight now.

Spam Email

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 10:00:00 +0000

What would you do if you discovered multiple spam emails from... yourself?

I'm getting fucking pissed off.

Several people are putting my email in the 'return path' of their spam emails. The spams are designed to appear to come from MSN as part of an email subscription, a site I am not affiliated with with my GMAIL account. There is one blog I read that requires live.com membership to leave comments, so I do have a hotmail account, but my gmail address is not associated with it.

About this mailing:
You are receiving this e-mail because you subscribed to MSN Featured Offers. Microsoft respects your privacy. If you do not wish to receive this MSN Featured Offers e-mail, please click the "Unsubscribe" link below. This will not unsubscribe you from e-mail communications from third-party advertisers that may appear in MSN Feature Offers. This shall not constitute an offer by MSN. MSN shall not be responsible or liable for the advertisers' content nor any of the goods or service advertised. Prices and item availability subject to change without notice.

©2008 Microsoft | Unsubscribe | More Newsletters | Privacy

Furthermore, since when does MSN send out subscription emails? Isn't that from, what? last century? Do the spammers honestly think people are going to believe this crap? I thought MSN was now live.com? Adding to this, the email was an advertisement for pharmaceuticals. Yeah. Real believable.

Anyway, the emails aren't literally coming out of my gmail account. Nobody's hacked my email. They are just putting my username in place of their's when they fill in the return path, so it appears to have come from me. Of course, a quick check of the headers will reveal the 'real' return path email, and in which case, I like to hit 'reply', fill in the real email, as well as abuse@gmail.com.

If I didn't have so many things tied into this one account I might just close it altogether, but along with having several sites (including blogger) attached to it, I'm just too lazy to go through all the motions.

One thing really confuzzles me... don't the spammers realize that the 'send' and 'from' email addresses are the same? And that I'm, oh, I don't know, smart enough to call their bluff? They really think I'm going to click ANY link when I can clearly see the email is fraud?

This sucks.

*This post was posted using Blogger's scheduling feature. I really am not at the computer, I just love you enough to give you something to read while I am chasing fairies with Little Ozzie and Captain Underpants.

Jilted

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 10:00:00 +0000

Jilted is a word that has been lingering in my vocabulary since the beginning of the month. While I hardly ever feel jilted, it has made a dashing entrance into my life at a time when I feel least likely to welcome it.

I felt jilted when...

... the last episode of Battlestar Galactica to air this year yeilded no #5 of the final five and no real answers, although it DID give up a radioactive Earth. Yay.
... a half bottle of "Stelvin Cap" wine did not render me drunk as per usual. Damn 6% and tolerance levels!!!
... the fifth bag of Orville Redenbacher's Ultimate Butter Popcorn collapsed and half the kernels remained intact. (a rip off?)
... my burnt marshmallow appeared mysteriously solid on the inside instead of gooey whilst concocting a sugaring confection bliss known as a smore.
... a "friendship" I had wrapped up many hopes inside of disintegrated before my eyes. I'll shut up about that when I'm over it. Yougottaproblemwithat?!
... three weeks (almost four) of diet and exercise got me 1/2 size smaller, not a whole size, but I suppose I'm fully to blame for being utterly lazy. It is the nature of a Susan, you know.

To say I have been happy this month would be a misconception. Although I have been happy at times, overwhelmingly I have felt jilted.

What is your word of the month?

*This post was posted using Blogger's scheduling feature. I really am not at the computer, I just love you enough to give you something to read while I am chasing fairies with Little Ozzie and Captain Underpants.

Bust-ed

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 20:40:00 +0000

Vacation, so far, has been a bust. Not quite literally either.

For starters, I decided to play to my hearts content.. only to discover two days of constant rain, and the temps have dropped into the 50's F (that's low teens for you Celsius people). Add to that my dreary mood that I was attempting to lift with summertime specialities, and I've made quite a lump of myself on the couch being a tad depressed.

That is, until I decided to DO something about it rather than licking my wounds and nursing self pity. Drats! Nothing funny on TV. I don't know about you, but I don't find Mad TV very amusing. Nothing was 'funny enough' to help me out, and this is one of my old standbys. So I tried chocolate, but that doesn't help matters any because I have no appetite. Not even for chocolate or wine. What's wrong with me?

Hrm. I wandered out to the kitchen this afternoon to make supper and got lost in the Maillard reaction of the chicken breasts. Not only did I think of Speedy with the chicken, and boobs with, well, it's chicken BREAST (hee-hee), but I remembered how much I really LOVE to cook fine and delicious meals. OMG... *drool*

Many things make me drool, but for some reason this was the trick, my Bears of Berlin, as Dave put it once on his blog. A few years ago Warren did something called a "Bear Affair", which is what I was reminded of when I read his post.

Oh, and I a quick search of google garnered this beauty of a link. It's about normal breasts. An excerpt:

"But, in reality female breasts come in all kinds of sizes and shapes. These breast pictures are here to let you see normal breasts - big, small, sagging, asymmetrical; big areolas or nipples."

**WARNING: These are normal, not perfect. Just don't head into it with any-ahem-expectations.

I know you're going to click the link after that; I just know it! I see a pair just.like.mine too! I won't tell you which pair either. Na-na-na-na-naaaa-naaa.

It's the least I can do at the moment.

If Anybody Asks...

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 03:36:00 +0000

... I was out smashin' mailboxes last night with your cousin' Bob.

Got it?

hehehehehehe

I'm going to take a few days off of blogging. Summer vaca is hard to adjust too and I'm going to work on strengthening my parenting skills (and also working on squeaking in some bona fide alone time in the morning). So instead of firing up the comp, I'm going to take a walk in the morning before everybody's awake.

Instead of obsessively checking emails, I'm going to be obsessively checking on my rule-breaking kids.

Instead of sitting down in front of this beast every spare minute I get, I'm going to do something productive, like pick up a toy, do a load of dishes, or fold some laundry. Or sunbath. Or play outside with my kids so long that we lose track of time.

Dammit, it's summer, I wanna play too!!!

If you need to get ahold of me and it's an emergency, contact Beany. She's got my number, she can call anytime. If it's not an emergency, and it can wait, then I'll see you in a few days, huh? Happy Weekdays everybody

T'is I, The Sue

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 20:00:00 +0000

Maybe it's time to give you a little background on me. Lord knows what the people I find through my Google Alerts think to come back to find boobs but no Sue.

Hello, my name is Sue. *extends hands* We can be on a first name basis. I've been married since 2002, so if you insist on being proper, Ms. Sue or Mrs. Sue is appropriate. I also have two children who are five years apart. The Girl is the oldest; The Boy just turned five. I rarely mention them on the blog here because I don't consider this a 'mommy blog'. I'm not knocking parenting blogs, they are fantastic. I just don't feel comfy sharing my own experiences on a daily basis and that's about it. That and I worry about sharing 'too much' and I'd rather not risk there being a 'fine line'.

I grew up in a small 'city' called War ren, P A. War ren is quaint, old fashioned, and starving for growth and modernization. Aside from the younger ones' tomfoolery, there isn't a high crime rate. It's nestled in the very tip of the Alleg heny Mountain Range, flanked by the Alleg heny Natio nal Fo rest, and neighbor to several natural attractions.

But enough about that, who I am now isn't necessarily a product of my raising. I was raised Christian and migrated through religions before I found something I call 'independent'. I do have strong opinions of religion, though I don't follow any one of them. I will go through the motions of Christianity for family gatherings, etc., but I struggle to adhere to their doctrine of beliefs. This said, I do not welcome debate on the subject at all. If you are truly interested in knowing what is in my head, ask me candidly and do so with an open mind, or you risk getting a mouthful from me for inciting an argument (ironically). Let's just say my chosen path most closely resembles Zen Buddhism.

Now that I've brought up religion, I should also lay clear my views on politics. According to this site, I am liberal. I do not label myself, however. In fact, I am considering leaving the Republican party and I'm opposed to transferring to the Dems. Neither party suits or serves me well. Politics, in general, is not my cuppa tea. I leave them alone, and they leave me alone. I help the county and the state decide who will represent me, but I never trust that they can have everybody's interests at heart. You can't please all the people all the time. I don't pity the politician, however, because they chose their path knowing this. This is all I wish to share on the subject, and again, no debate.

In the past four years I have taken up an interest in photography. I am taking my time with it, making sure I know what I am doing, enjoying it and honing my skills. I would say I'm passionate, but the term is so cliché and overused these days that I'm having trouble thinking it without gritting my teeth. I don't live and breath photography. However, what blogging is to some people, photography is to me. I go through life seeing 'shots'. Opportunities crop up out of nowhere. I once forgot my camera in the car while touring a rain forest in Australia, and I was pitched into the throes of an anxiety attack because I felt naked and detached. I wanted to enjoy the natural surroundings I found, but without a camera I felt somewhat asphyxiated.

I have a blog because I like to share, not because I write well. I don't write well, I just write. How well it is depends on who's reading it and how critical they are. I have lost my inhibitions behind the veil of the internet and I tend to be more of an extrovert in cyberspace. In real life, however, I have difficulty interracting with people and tend to suffer from foot-in-mouth disease. It gets me into trouble. I also st-st-stutter, swear, fidget, and forget what I'm saying midsentence. Thus, I have become highly introverted in public and it's actually a BIG deal if I break my own boundaries to reach out to people. For these challenges alone I have also suffered from anxiety and, at times, clinical depression.

I've always been a socially awkward individual. Recently I started employing 'connection' techniques thanks to encouragement from Steve Harper's Ripple Effect. It does work! However, being as emotionally sensitive as I am to rejection and failure, I find it especially challenging to maintain these connections once I've started them. Perseverance will pay off eventually, I believe.

My line of work caters to my ability to thrive independent of 'teamwork'. I do enjoy working on a team and having my contributions valued by the team. I work better knowing I 'belong' to the group. However, I tend to work more efficiently when I'm left to my own devices. I am a cleaner, and I work alone most nights. I work at my own pace, in my own fashion, and I have proven my reputation of being a good, hard worker time and again. I do relish the idea that my work is serving others in a small way, and it makes all the more worthwhile to be able to contribute to my employment without the fanfare of being 'noticed'. I'm one of those people that will give to my hearts content... anonymously. I don't want anybody to know what I offer, and for the most part it remains that way. There's a term for it, but for the life of me I can't think of it now.

I can be one of the best friends you ever had. I am punky, spunky, charismatic, and engaging. I have compassion for others' feelings to the point of wrapping myself in guilt over it (a habit I'm currently working on). I try not to trust too soon, but it happens. I tend to naively believe the best in people until they prove me otherwise, and I will treat you accordingly. I'm also pretty easy-going for the most part, but I can't deny that when things get under my skin I will react different to them depending on the nature of the problem.

Oh, and I can be a cold-hearted, lying, fucking bitch too. Or that's what I'm told. Yes, I have a temper. Some issues are hot spots for me, others not so much. Hit a hot spot and back the fuck off, because I'm a little spitfire when I really do get righteously angry. I know I just talked about anger being a waste of time, but there ARE instances when I will not agree with my own philosophy.

If you fuck with

* my kids.
* my husband.
* anybody else I cherish.

or

* my job...

Watch out!

All else I can pretty much back off from conflict whenever possible.

And that about sums up the Sue. Any questions?

A Confrontation With Kindness

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 13:48:00 +0000

"...happiness is the highest good, being a realization and perfect practice of virtue, which some can attain, while others have little or none of it..." - Aristotle

Thank you to those of you who support me after yesterday's post. The big question I got over the day was "Did you confront the gossiper?"

The answer to that would be no. I'm not one for confrontation. Even the word, the sound of it, the way it feels when I form it in my mouth denotes affliction and pain. I'm also not one to approach a person like this and waste my precious time on Earth locking horns with somebody who obviously doesn't really care how I feel. The goal, some might say, would be to let her know I found out, but I'm sure she's already figured that out by now. The problem is that I can't let it get to me. My job and my reputation as a good worker are on the line if I do and to be honest it's not worth getting that upset over anymore.

Last night while I was at work I was so sure that 'he' had shown up. At first my blood boiled and I found every excuse to stay hidden in the shadows of the back rooms, sliding unnoticed through the motions of my job while silently seething beneath the surface. Then I was smacked with a realization, or rather, a few realizations in a row.

My anger won't hurt him.
Why would I want to hurt him?
Just because he hurt me doesn't make me the same kind of person as him.
In all factuality, he has a right to decide not to be my friend, for any reason.
There might be another reason I am not seeing or aware of.
Why should I be angry with him over that?

What it boiled down to is that anger is a pure waste of my time. I am hurt and disappointed, but I can't let that develop into something that it doesn't have to be. If he had approached me and started to talk to me last night after this realization I would have been polite and friendly with him. As it turns out, the guy I thought was him wasn't him.

Let's turn to the gossiper now. Am I hurt and do I feel betrayed? Yes; I am and I do. But I'm not going to get angry with her either. Anger just seems completely wasteful now. It solves nothing. What can I do? Since approaching her would also be fruitless (unless I'm really itching to start a fight I'll never win), I have to discover a productive solution to what happened. This is actually quite simple. I won't give her any fodder for gossip and I stop letting her gossip bother me. She's likely to gossip whether I direct her towards a juicy story or not, but the less I feed her the less likely she will be to hurt me.

I'm not saying I'm going to let people walk all over me or treat me badly. I'm just making a point to not get angry when anger won't do anything but make ME feel bad. And, honestly, why should I punish and hurt myself? I'm a firm believer that what goes around comes around, but I never wish to be the administrator of that. It will come full circle, these things almost always do.

The gossiper was 'looking out' for him. She didn't approve of the friendship and did what she could to see that it didn't happen, and she succeeded. Is that really somebody I'd want to be friends with? Nope. My friends would stick up for me. They would say "Hey, Sue's cool, let us be." or something to that nature. Him? He chose a different path. More power to him. I'm happy now.

Being Floored and Ranting

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 15:19:00 +0000

Two posts in one day? Yes, something's eating at me and I want to purge before I am intoxicated by it. I wasn't going to blog about this. I swore I wasn't. Why? Because I am making myself vulnerable to criticism and unwanted advice. Although... I'm aware that it is the nature of a blog to solicit advice.

I misplaced my trust and enthusiasm and I was shaken up over it.

I have to start in saying that I have no friends in my area. The nearest friend lives 30-40 minutes drive away and has a small family of her own. It's very difficult to get together with her because my work schedule, the price of gas, and my lack of remembering to, you know, call her gets in the way. Love her dearly, see her rarely.

So imagine how I felt when I was able to go out with 'kids my age'. I am surprised I still referred to adults in their twenties that way. Some of you might remember a post I had written about Mr. EOT (now deleted because I got worried he'd find this blog). Mr. EOT (for Every Other Tuesday) was a regular patron of the bar in the club I work at. Over a few months we started to chat meaninglessly. Two weeks ago I shared a few beers with the 'boys' and they invited me to play pool down the street and a good time was supposedly had by all. Until Mr. EOT gave me his phone number and I worried he'd gotten the wrong impression.

It went very badly downhill from there. I hesitate to say whom, because my job is at stake here too, but somebody started to tell Mr. EOT things about me that weren't true. The biggest one an implication that I was looking to stray from my marriage.

Mr. EOT called me at work a week ago and vaguely inferred to this gossip whilst proclaiming he didn't want to be my 'bad guy'. What he told me that night should have raised red flags but it didn't. I was guided blindly by the desire to have a friend or a few to 'hang out' with. During that phone call he drunkenly agreed to hang out this last Tuesday and that he'd be OK being such friends.

My head aches writing about this because it's all so ridiculous in hindsight.

Monday morning I called him to confirm plans. But this time, after months of being a regular fixture at the bar, he 'didn't know' if he was going out or not and gave me some lame excuse why he couldn't join me. He also revealed more of the Gossip Monger's secrets. I was crushed. The gossiper is somebody I fully trusted. I've trusted her for years, I've confided in her and I've stood up for her. I was floored to hear of how quickly she betrayed me, and in the way she did just shook me to my core.

All I want is a friend, I don't care if they had a penis, boobs, or both. It just doesn't matter all that much to me. What matters is that they value my friendship and company. I've had guy friends most of my life. I was a tomboy growing up. Until I turned 25 I had always carried a billfold, not a purse. I was friends with my brother's friends and known as "Brother Sue" in high school. I was, for a long time, the only girl in a pack of horny male teenagers in an Explorer's group. Being friends with a guy is nothing new to me in the least bit, and no, Josh doesn't have a problem with it unless it gets 'too close'. In fact, one of my best friends of all time was a guy 33 years my senior... he introduce Josh and I.

Gossip Monger didn't approve of the 'friendship'. She took her view of things and contorted it to suit whatever agenda she felt fit, and it worked.

Tuesday night: I'm at work. I am loading trash into the dumpster and I spy Mr. EOT's car in the lot. When I go inside the building, there is no Mr. EOT. He is probably next door or down the street at another bar. I am there at the club for about an hour and a half after that. When I leave I see that his car is gone. It was, in my opinion, a deliberate snub.

The fact that it stung isn't something I can deny. Why I cared so much is still a mystery. I got the hint, it's loud and clear. He's just not interested in being my friend. But I had my hopes up and I was too emotionally invested too early on. It took me years of employment there to work up the courage to actually patronize the bar, and I can't let my first 'rejection' phase me. However, it did and it hurt.

I feel robbed. I wondered if it would have been different if he had gotten to know me without Gossip Monger's undue influence or if Mr. EOT had been a girl instead. If he never thought that I was an evil succubus who wanted nothing more than an illicit affair, would I still be 'hang out' worthy?

But, in the end, after all the crying and screaming unfairly at my husband for men being jerks (I know men aren't all jerks, just sayin'), I realize I can't punish myself (or Josh, poor man) for his inadequacies. I don't want people like that in my life anyway. I want people who want to spend time with me because the like me, because they get along with me, because it's enjoyable.

It was a hard lesson learned. I am not going to give up on finding a 'crew' just because some asshats decided to fuck with me. I'll just one-up them all and find a crew that is 100x's more awesome then their dumbassery can amount to on their best sober days.

Take that, you shits.

Thirsty on Thursday for Boob Stuff?

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 10:00:00 +0000

Since I'm being exceedingly lazy (I'm a Susan, what can you expect?) and unwilling to discuss anything related to my semi-normal, private life (maybe on Friday), I've compiled a recent list of boob links for your enjoyment. Or maybe just to satisfy your curiosity.

To start, I want to ask you, Have you ever wondered what goes into a boob job? If you'd reather not know, don't click. Seriously. It's not as glamorous as it sounds. For those who are still curious and itching to know, I've found an article titled Boob Jobs: The Facts.

So, let's imagine you are staring at boobs, lovely sets, and you get a nasty surprise. This baby was doing just that. It's a doozy.

What Baby Likes Most? - video powered by Metacafe

If you still can't see and want to know the surprise, email me. There is no transcript to this video.

Did you know that Scarlet Johansson was voted 'Best Breasts'? I didn't. Apparently she was unhappy about this. See why.

I'm a little miffed I missed out on the 2007 Boobie-Thon, but in all honestly, I didn't even have boobs on my mind at that time. At least not for blogging purposes. I've signed up for the newsletter for 2008's Boobie-Thon (woot!).

In sad news, my husband's grandmother's sister (his great-aunt) is dying of breast cancer. It metastasized. Awful news. 1 in 4 people, 1 in 4. If there's one thing I can never stress to you enough, it's to fight against breast cancer. Do all you can.

You've heard of Craigslist, right? Just look at what I've found... a little gem. *squeal* Isn't it precious?

I hope you're satisfied with this dose of snuggle puppies.

Have a wonderful Thursday!

Wordless Wednesday

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 00:46:00 +0000

Oh To Feel So Good

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 22:00:00 +0000

Mothers, have you heard of the book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day? I had one of those yesterday, or so it felt. It involved gossip of adultery, betrayal of trust (but not of the adulterous sort), and losing something that never truly belonged to me anyway. Long story short: I don't want to talk about it.

I do, however, want to talk about what I did this morning to cheer myself up. I Stumbled. And this is what I found.

http://www.greenexpander.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/black-baby-jaguar.jpg

The Top 25 Men Who Look Like Old Lesbians
Some of them I disagree with, and some I couldn't agree with more. It's worth it if you get to the bottom, or scroll there first.

Who would have thought this? Gay scientists claim to have isolated the Christian gene. I'm not trying to bash Christians or scientists or gays. I just thought this video was enough to get your mind opened a crack to how silly some ideas that get passed around truly are.

And finally, this is worth the ten minutes it took to read: Death By Scrabble. VERY interesting and engaging story.

While I was writing this up, my son (who turns five tomorrow) came to me with one of the bra inserts to my bikini held up to his chest. "Mommy, I got BOOBIE!"

That's ma boy!

I love Boobies

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 18:49:00 +0000

One of the greatest perks of running a blog with a lot of boobage is that readers will occasionally send me links to awesome boob stuff.

This video absolutely made my day. Jef of Edge of the Blade sent this to me. If only he knew what I've gone through today, but it matters not, I'm happy now that I've heard this cute little diddy.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9RCivBsjP4&feature=related

67% Addicted to Blogging

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 01:15:00 +0000

67%

Oh isn't this just GREAT?! Well, I think it is. I'm not addicted to caffeine (anymore, that is), alcohol, illegal drugs, or nicotine.

I'm just addicted to blogging.

My Cat, The King

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 10:00:00 +0000

Yesterday my Google Alert delivered unto me a link to a forgotten blog. My Aeonity blog. Yup, there's one I missed in my lament about being a huge blogging slut. I like to think of it this way. Blogs (or men) are like black shoes (or bras). You have a try a lot of them on before you find the right fit.

Anyway, on the forgotten blog I found a forgotten post, clean it up and here you go, regurgitated (and barely touched) for your pleasure.

***********************

Pay no attention to the cat behind the curtain.

Where my desk is currently situated, I have the pleasure and luxury of gazing out of a window to my immediate right. It is a joy that comes with a strange side effect.. the curtain doth purr. The first time it happen I was curiously amused. Curious as a cat... and lo and behold, a cat did rest on the other side of that curtain.

My husband's cat, a.k.a. The King, crawled up into the sill one sunny morning while the window was open to watch the birds. We have two feeders right on the porch, and it is frequented by several small bird species (cardinal, purple finch, sparrow, chickadee, tufted tit-mouse, and grossbeak). It is also a hotspot for mischievous chittermunks intent on cleaning up the porch floor of dropped seed. It seems to work, there is never a stray seed about.

Just as I sat down to search for a new blog service (I am a blog nomad, mind you), The King poked his weary but expecting head out from between the curtains just enough so that his whiskers caressed my arm.

"Yer whiskers, eh tickle-ered me." I said to him in a silly voice, and he tilted his head down. "The bow" is his way of commanding a pet. I obliged, and returned my attention to the computer.

Two wonderful reasons to be on the computer as often as possible... I sit next to an inspiring view from the window, and I have The King to keep me company.

My Boobs are in a Contest!

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 09:41:00 +0000

Hey y'all, Lotus over at Sarcastic Mom is having a contest with .... boobs! And yours truly here entered a picture of her rack for voting on! I wasn't going to do it, originally, but she talked me into it.

Not only do you get your fix of rack shots, but you get to choose three of them that you like best. So what are you waiting for? You'll find mine easy. You should know them by now, and if you don't, trust me, you'll see them.

Boobs, boobs, and, yup, more boobs. 22 pairs of them! Can it get any better than this?

So this is what it's come down to?

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 12:19:00 +0000

Memes? Seriously? I'm inundating you poor saps with memes now?

I'm sorry. Well, no, actually I'm not. Unless you want to see shots of my flabby body in the new string bikini I bought, I've got nothing. I was teasing, you're not getting shots. At least not for a month or so, let me work my body into awesome shape first. Like by running and doing Pilates and stuff girls do to get into shape. Gaawwd, I miss running.

Dear Running Shoes,

My dearest pair of perfectly shaped running shoes, you pearly beasts of burden. You carried me through my most emotional trials in life as I worked out my issues on our souls. You brought me to the most beautiful scenery and lifted me up when I was at the end of my rope. We escaped into the wilderness and took refuge in each other through blood, sweat, tears, and the occasional shin splint and side stitch.

You have stood by me through all of my hard times, but what have I done for you? I've dragged you through the mud, hammered you down, kicked you around, and nearly peed on you a few times. And that one time was purely an accident. Oh come on, you know it was! And after I so callously used you, I left you. Then I did the unthinkable. I started taking you to work. I spilled oil and grease, garbage and stale booze on you. I walked you around like a worn out show horse, parading our failure to everybody who saw us. There we go, two defunct remnants of running days gone by.

Now I look at you with such lustful burning desire. I reach out to embrace you. Even though the weather is cold and wet, I can almost hearing your tongues panting in excitement.

Run, run, RUN.

I promise you a date today. This afternoon. No more hemming and hawing. No more stroking your laces with yearning. I'm honestly going to call you today. I'm going to tied you up and whip you like the men you are, and you are going to like it! Capiche?

So I'll see you at the usual time? Good.

-Sue

By the way, this is post #100.

Stolen: One Thought Provoking Meme

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 11:50:00 +0000

This meme started out like almost every other Myspace Special, but as I read through it I realized how much it was making me think. Ouch. Thanks Karl for the ponderments. I know that's not a word. Well, it is now.

Who are you?
I am a collection of perceptions, internal and external, ever changing.

Whats your Philosophy?
Do what works for you and hurt nobody in the process.

First thoughts in the morning…
Shutup, shutup, shutup! (to the alarm, that is)

Your current mood is…?
Is hungry a mood?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years…
I don't. I am here now, that's all that matters.

Define….

Life-
It needs to be lived, not analyzed.

Love-
Is something you do and something others do to you (and I don't mean sex, you perverts)

Success-
Achieving or accomplishing a goal.

Happiness-
The choice you make to find joy in life.

Death-
Happens anyway. Don't dwell on this fact.

Fear-
I really liked Karl's answer. How the hell do I top that?

What are your views on

Abortion
*squirm* I don't like it, but having been pregnant I do understand the feeling of entitlement to one's body. I still don't like the idea of killing a living/growing human in order to have control of your body back. I mean, it only lasts nine months, is that really so bad? Your boobs grow too! If you don't want the baby, there ARE people who DO. But is it really so bad being pregnant that you must kill it? Sigh. This is another topic I won't debate though.

Why poverty exists?
Why? Why not? Does it matter WHY? It DOES (exist, that is). We know this. If we can help, even a little, then we should.

The U.N-
Useless. (agreed)

Wars- (by wars I mean wars in general)-
Make no sense to me whatsoever and will end up ruining our 'great civilized' nations by exploiting our weaknesses as humans.

Suicide-
I formerly saw this as a way out. A way to make things 'better'. A way to end the pain for myself, for the others I was hurting with my presence and actions. Yeah, I've been at that door. I've stood at the brink between life and suicide. I had a dream once where I experienced my death from my husband's point of view, and that pretty much squashed any desire I ever had to kill myself. And no, I'm not willing to talk about this either. I've said all I can say to the people who needed to know.

Your Faves…

Author-
Dean Koontz although he does irritate me now and then.

Book-
“Odd Thomas” by Dean Koontz

Music Lyric-
“Your best friend always sticking up for you, even when I know you're wrong.”

Quote about life–
"Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die." --Amelia Burr

Curse Word-
fuck, and variations of it

Movie-
The Princess Bride or It’s a Wonderful Life.

Movie quote-
“Not because I remind you, but because I couldn't join you, so I left you alone.”

Final Random Thoughts…..

What would be the best job in the world?
(paid and working) Photographer

And the worst job would be?
Venom milker from snakes and spiders. EWWWW *shudders*

What is your biggest accomplishment to date?
I grew two children in my body.

What do you wish to accomplish in the next 5 years?
Goals, preferrably

If you die tomorrow…

Who will speak at your funeral?
Nobody, I don't want a funeral, but if they insist I have no clue who would want to.

What would you like your eulogy to say?
It's not for me, it's for them, they can say whatever they want. They can call me shithead for all I care.

How would you hope to leave this world?
What an awful thing to place hope in. I'd rather not think about it.

Would you tell anyone you were going to die?
If I knew as much, hell yeah.

If you wrote a final letter to be read at your funeral what would it say…
I would not do this because the idea kinda creeps me out.

Upon arriving at the pearly gates..what would God say to you?
Assuming that this would actually happen? Okay, on that assumption, I'm sure I would get a 'welcome' or something to that effect.

And finally..Your famous last words?
I dunno, push it and find out.

What does the word for “Dots” look like in braille?
If it's in braille, why would it matter what it looks like? Hello? Blind people?!

What is a quick way to start a conversation?
Hey, how's it goin'?

And a quick way to end one??
I'm leaving now, bye!

Last words?
If I died tonight, will y'all know how much I've loved you?

Almost To One Hundred

noreply@blogger.com (Sue) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 04:48:00 +0000

I'm almost to 100 Posts.
So I'm doing the list of '100 things' early.
Because that is what people do.
Fuck that, I'm just giving you 100 random things because I feel like punishing you for my shitty life.
I mean, er, I love you?
Seriously. You know I do.
I'm just impatient and wanting to do this three posts early seemed like a great idea.
What better way to waste your time than to read my mangled impatient post about 100 things?
By the way, this is number 9.
I don't remember the joke, but seven eight nine... sounds raunchy to me; Um, can I be nine please?

I don't believe in God.
I don't believe in Buddha.
I think Buddha was a guy who realized the big cosmic joke was on us.
I hate conflict.
Especially when it is about religion.
I am known to have ditched 'friends' because they wouldn't respect my anti-conflict religion rule.
I have morals, even if I have no "God".
Okay, so I might believe in 'something'. Not just "God" the way the rest of the world views "Him".
That something is my own private theory, and no, I'm not sharing.
Because I'm uncomfortable talking about religion.

I don't trust any beer I can see through.
This makes my favorite beers dark lagers and stouts.
I like to 'chew the hops' so to speak.
I will drink light beer if a friend leaves their beverage nearby and I'm done with mine.
I am a happy drunk.
I am also a very talkative drunk.
And a horny drunk. Even females should be leary.
I kissed a best friend when I was drunk to convince a skeeve we were lesbians so he would buy us breakfast.
He totally bought us an awesome breakfast, for her husband too!
I'm writing this post while drunk. Believe it!

Slightly saggy boobs are my thing.
If they are too round and perky, I don't like them.
Large nipples irritate me.
Small, erect ones are more my style.
Dark and/or hairy ones are out of my league.
Inverted nipples? Stay away from me! (eeeps)
Stretch marks are okay though.
I want to see boobs separated, not one big squished uni-boob.
And separated from the stomach too, preferably.
Is it any surprise that I love to have my boobs hand-led by anybody? (just don't lick them, you will die a most painful death if you are not the wearer of my matching wedding band).

I CAN pee while standing up in the woods.
But I prefer to squat.
Even if it means pissing on my pant legs unintentionally.
Especially when I'm drunk.
I learned what sex is when I was nine (my daughter's age).
She thinks it's just 'kissing' while being naked.
I'm letting her think that until she is thirty or learns otherwise.
She's not allowed to date until she's thirty.
Even when she points out that I'm 27, married, with two kids.
Then I raise it to 35.

Sex SUCKED when I was a teenager.
It lasted 2-10 minutes.
I never got my 'prize'.
And I always had to clean up the wet spot.
Because I was too naive to think to use a condom.
And I got pregnant from lousy sex.
That's not fair!
The Girl deserved to be born of hot, passionate, rowdy love, no?
Alas, poor child, she was but a burp of sperm.
Burp probably wasn't the best thing to say, but, you know what I mean, right?

Speaking of burps, excuse me.
You're halfway through my post.
I hope you're laughing so hard you've peed your pants. (hope is a wonderful thing)
Speaking of peeing (I mentioned I was curnk, no, druknk, wahtever, right?)
Ahh, that feels better.
Yes, I used the toilet, not the keyboard.
Anyway, there was a shooting in a nearby town.
It's all the news, sadly.
Jamestown never gets any good news.
Except 10,000 Maniacs hitting it, er, big.

I have to pee again. Damn beer.
Amber Bock. Mmmm. Very good.
I think Mr. EOT blew me off because he was reminded I am married and 'not interested'.
I wish he had talked to me instead of the gossipers.
I would have told him I was married and 'not interested', but, BUT willing and able to go 'out' with him if he needed to keep up appearances.
I just wanted a friend is all.
Is that too much to ask?
Apparently, when a guy is 'looking', friends are the last thing he needs.
Which sucks ass, because I need friends and he was one awesome dude.
His loss, right?

Right?!
I've lost count, so I think I have two more sets of ten to go.
I'm one of the most insecure people you'll ever meet.
Yes, I admit it, I'm shy, introverted, and ... shy.
Online I can be anything I want to be.
A sexy dominatrix... meow!
A powerful CEO?
The 'real' me?
Mama mia, the answer is no. I still hold back, even from the internet.
Or should that be 'especially' from the internet?

We're almost done.
Give yourself a pat on the back.
Or an orgasm.
Just checking to see if you were still here.
If you are, please mention 'orgasm' in the comments and I'll know you took the time to read my post.
And laugh at how you said 'orgasm' in the comments.
And might be turned on by how many 'orgasms' turn up in the comments.
And marvel at the fact that I didn't even flash you guys this time.
Wait, there is that one picture...

Naaaah. Another time?