yeah, that's random

Last One to Leave

2011-09-26T14:04:00.000-07:00

Would you choose Me over Them
Or Them over Me

Sometimes the first one in
Is the last one to leave

Truth may be stranger than fiction
But if it's fiction you need to believe

Who am I to ruin your reality
I'll let you perceive how you will perceive

The last one to leave
The last one to care
The last one to cry
Guess this is goodbye

You chose Them over Me
Instead of Me over Them
They don't know who you are
They'll never see what I see

Bag of marbles
Thrown under my feet

Was it fun to watch me fall
Head last

No time to catch myself
I accept defeat

Not important enough to believe
Too smart, unable to lie
Too honest to agree
Guess this is goodbye

I'll choose Me over You
You'll choose Them over Me
Soon you'll see nothing at all
Just my back when you fall

The last one to leave
The last one to care
The last one to cry
Guess this is goodbye

Sometimes the first one in
Is the last one to leave

Ask 5 for 5

2011-08-18T04:27:00.001-07:00

guest blogger: Sarah Lenssen from Ask5for5
photos courtesy of Cate Turton / Dept. for International Development

First, thanks to Sueanne for allowing me to post on her blog today! Today, more than 25 bloggers, including this one, are standing with me to Ask 5 for 5 for Africa. Here's why....

I began pursuing a BIG dream two weeks ago. After deciding I could no longer avoid the news about the famine in the horn of Africa, I had that gut feeling that I couldn't sit this one out. I HAD to do something because I could. Something bigger than I could do alone. That's when #Ask5for5 was born.

Two of my children, Ashen and Bereket, were adopted and are from the region affected by the drought in Ethiopia. They would be two of the statistics if they still lived there. I see my son’s and daughter’s faces in the photos of those suffering in the refugee camps. It could have been him. It could have been her. The thought haunts me.

And moms just like us are watching their children go hungry day after day. I can't imagine what it's like, but I have to –I have to be there to help them, because it could have been my children. These families have lost their livestock, their crops, food prices are inflated at the market if there any food there, and don’t have any more lifelines to tap into. Many are traveling hundreds of miles through parched land in hope of finding help. Many are dying along the way. It is estimated that 29,000 children have died in the last 90 days in the famine in Somalia alone.

But I KNOW we can do something about it. Instead of feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed, we can rally ourselves and our friends to respond! I set up a fundraiser through See Your Impact. 100% of your gift will go to the relief and development organization World Vision, where it will be combined with government grants to multiply up to 5 times in impact!

You’ll receive updates on just how your funding is being used to help save lives affected by famine in East Africa. I'm amazed at how much we've raised already -- over $7,000 in just four days! We blew through our first 3 goals in just 3 days and are well on our way to $10,000 and beyond!

I need you to help me save lives. It's so so simple; here's what you need to do:

Donate $5 or more on this page (http://seeyourimpact.org/members/ask5for5)

Send an email to your friends and ask them to join us.

Share Ask5for5 on Facebook and Twitter, and join our page to stay updated too!

I'm also looking for 100 bloggers to stand with Ask5for5 to spread the word during Social Media week, September 19th - 23rd. If you're interested, email me, ask5for5@gmail.com.

Thanks! Please donate and email your friends right now--don't wait for a calmer moment, because if you're like me, other demands inevitably crop up and you won't get to it. A child's life hangs in the balance, but you can help save her!

A Soft Place to Land

2011-07-08T18:22:00.000-07:00

At the end of the day

When the last word is spoken

The last line is written

The last battle won

I look and there you are

A soft place to land

No assumptions

No wars

No forgone conclusions

No crazy notions of perfection

No critique, just appreciation

No need to be rewritten

A soft place to land

A soft place to land

A warm heart to know

A laugh to be had

A spirit to glow

Thank you my friend

For loving me just as I am

Not an image, not a thing

Just me being me

A soft place to land

At the end of the day

When the last word is spoken

The last line is written

The last battle won

Thank you for being You

My soft place to land

In this hard world at hand

Top 10 Reasons to Pee in the Kitchen Sink

2010-10-22T12:30:00.000-07:00

Hey, people! Sorry I've been away for this blog for awhile now. Here's a top 10 list I wrote awhile ago to give a friend a laugh. Whaddaya want? It's a humor blog.

10. Your wife's been in the bathroom with the plumber for two hours.

9. Something to do while you make toast.

8. You want a really quick divorce and you don't care if she gets the house.

7. You can make sure you turned the oven off at the same time.

6. What better way to get rid of that stubborn soap ring.

5. No TV in the bathroom.

4. Who says you can't pee where you have sex.

3. A watched pot never boils.

2. The dishwasher is broken.

1. You can't get yelled at for not flushing a sink.

What? I've been busy.

2010-09-06T05:01:00.000-07:00

I referred to this fabulous blog as a stepchild recently so I thought it was about time I picked it up from school on time and packed it a lunch with soda like all of the other kids.

I've been really busy with my business and my other blog and related activities. Oh yeah, and my family. Them. Trophy Husband, kids one two and three, or as I like to call them Lasagne, fettuccine, linguine and angel hair have all kept me hopping this summer. The dog doesn't have a pasta name. He's a dog. He can get a pasta name when he makes his own breakfast.

Since the pastas are going back to school and my life has been non-stop-funny, I'll be updating this blog again on a regular basis, so keep your pants on, "I'll be back" with all the things I learned over the Summer.

Ode to Bunny Baby Daddy

2010-04-03T04:36:00.000-07:00

I.... killed the wabbit.

And I still feel guilty. Especially now, the day before Easter.

With that Oh-so-Cute Cadbury Clucking Bunny all over TV.

Then again, who eats those disgusting creme eggs, anyway? If ever there was a more foul candy invented...

but I digress.

It happened one beautiful sunny day last summer on a mountain country road as I was with my girls in upstate New York, singing along with the radio, heading to the lake for a swim, la dee da dee da.

BOOM.

One large bunny. Cute. Brown. Furry. Meets one small performance tire. One big ole bump as my car ran over it. He ran out in front. Maybe he had had a bad day. Who knows?

"What was THAT, Mom?"

I looked back in the rear view mirror.

"Oh.... ohhhhh. Nothing?" Denial was my friend.

Oh, Yeah. He was gone. Gone, Bunny, Gone. Extremely gone. Mr. Bill gone.

Thus my hashtag #Sueannethebunnyslayer was born on Twitter.

I may not be able to do a thing with vampires. But, by golly, don't put me in front of a bunny.

Sigh.

Happy Easter.

Sorry, Baby Daddy Bunny.

Top 10 Reasons Not to be a Jerk.

2010-02-20T03:04:00.000-08:00

1. It takes less energy to be nice. I'm a lazy b&%ch. When I'm feeling really lazy, I become even nicer. Naps are overrated. I'd rather be nice.

2. I wouldn't want to outjerk (insert name of philandering politician here) Nobody should. Nobody could. But it might make for a fun reality show watching people try. Hmm. I guess that would be on after 10:00.

3. I actually like people too much. Oooo. What a concept. Must be a genetic defect. Yawn.

4. If I'm a jerk now, it'll be no fun when I'm 80. I'd be all jerked out. Old people are supposed to be jerks. And women who don't eat enough. I eat. Every day. Sometimes more than once a day.

5. I don't want my kids to grow up to be jerks. They outnumber me.

6. I have a sneaking suspicion waiters spit in the food of jerks. I eat enough of my own saliva every day.

7. Jerks hate themselves. I love myself. Wouldn't YOU? Blink.

8. When you're a jerk on the internet, it gets sent out to millions of people. Then those people tweet, buzz, facebook, stumbleupon, and digg and myspace all of the waiters in your town and tell them to spit in your food. But I'm dwelling on saliva.

9. Being a jerk is not economical. It causes wrinkles. You'll notice I don't have too many, and I'm olllld, dammit. This saves money on La Mer. Do you know how much La Mer costs now? It's ridiculous. At least nobody spits in it.

10. Being a jerk interferes with creativity. It can be very hard to think up new words to every single top ten song and crack up your kids if you're a jerk. Hard to make the lady in the post office smile. Impossible to bring people up who are feeling down. Difficult to make a difference in people's lives every day. A challenge to experience and give love. Arduous trying to help a friend out of sadness. And really hard to get a good table at a restaurant. Sans Spit.

Guitar Boy Rocks On

2010-01-22T03:21:00.000-08:00

Guitar Boy finally passed Algebra.

My darling boy just turned 16. I know...16! Yes, I was a child bride. In some states you CAN get married at 11. Shut up. Anyway, for a present I got a call from his Geometry teacher to tell me the good news. After three tries, he finally passed Algebra. I'm so glad that lip gloss comes off iPhones easily.

He took the course as a freshman all last year. We even paid big bucks for a tutor. Did he pass? No. "Don't worry", the guidance counselor said. "Guitar Boy is Bright". "I know", I said. "Everybody passes summer school Algebra", she said. "What if he doesn't" I asked. "Don't worry" She replied. He failed. So he took night school. Got home around 8:00 three nights a week for two months. His other work did suffer a little bit. Now we have to work on THAT.

He just barely passed, but I will be smiling for a week. Maybe more. Julia Roberts smile. Big Fucking smile.

True, Guitar Boy is obsessed with his guitar and would much rather play heavy metal than study or do homework. The great thing is that he loves it and he happens to be really good at it. When I tell people this they kinda tilt their heads to one side and smile. Some make comments about him not being able to make a living. "But no", I say, he's REALLY good. His teacher said he had nothing left to teach him by the time he was 14. His band came in second among some stiff competition in his first time at Battle of the Bands when he was a freshman. He plays the occasional gig. He writes, composes, records and plays his own music. He's gifted.

He even has groupies. So far they are behaving. And it's fun to hear them say with a big smile "You're Guitar Boy's MOTHER??" And see them bat their eyelashes.

Is sucking at Algebra a genetic trait? Because I'm quite sure I never got better than a C, and I did really well in my other classes. Can we just isolate the "Algebra Suck Gene" and just let those of us who can't do it stick with basic math? I've certainly never used it it my life. And it's hard to lie to his face and tell him it's important when I know it's not.

I love that my boy is creative like his mother. You never expect when you give birth to a boy that he could be so much like you, but Guitar Boy is. I was always encouraged to do the things I was best at, and they have all been in creative fields. Let's face it, accountants, doctors and lawyers don't make good art directors, writers, painters and jewelry designers. And I won't enforce a double standard on him. So many parents think it's fine if their girls are creative and choose creative careers, but for some reason they expect their boys to slave away at something they can't stand doing for a living.

So, Rock on, Guitar Boy. I love you.

It's None of My Boobness

2010-01-08T10:16:00.000-08:00

I'm tired of women using their boobs to draw attention to themselves. I recently unfollowed two women whom I followed peacefully on Twitter without incident until they decided they needed to change their avatars to boob shots. Just boobs. Boobs in a tight shirt. No face. Juuuust the boobs.

What is THAAAT? I DMed one of my BFFs. Who needs attention that much? It's not like they're hookers. I don't follow hookers. It's exasperating. I think she told me "I know, I saw that- just unfollow the whores". So I did.

Oh, and before you think this is some flat-chested non-boober going on a jealous rant, think again. I'm stacked. Always have been, always will be. Lots of women are, sometimes over-stacked. In fact, I'm writing a post for my new style blog www.doesthislookgoodonme.wordpress.com which will probably be entitled "What About My Boobs?" because I got some input about a recent post. Women need advice on how to dress around their boobs and work the jewelry with them. I'm on it. And I have no problem with this. I'm sure it can be done tastefully.

But unless you're a plastic surgeon? Give us all a break? If you're not for sale? Have a little class and self-respect. Put away the boobs. I already know what they look like. And I don't need four.

Addendum: "What about my Boobs?" post is now live at http://doesthislookgoodonme.wordpress.com/

10 Things You Can Say To Your 13-Year-Old Girl Without Receiving the Death Stare.

2009-12-28T22:51:00.000-08:00

I remember being thirteen. And now... now I am living with that version of myself since September. It's scary. I'm here to help others who are in my predicament. Here. Are. Ten things you can say to your thirteen-year-old daughter without receiving the "go to Hell, Mom", death glare. This is all I have. If you think of any more, please let me know.

1. Sure honey. You can take the credit card to the Mall. The one with no limit.

2. Of course we like your boyfriend.

3. Can you ever really have too many safety pins in an outfit?

4. Yes, you may re-pierce your ears for the fourth time.

5. No, there really is no reason to see the floor of your bedroom.

6. That's ok. Your hair is more important than being on time for school

7. That outfit is so creative. I love it.

8. Something that she can't hear because her ipod is too loud.

9. Yes. All nine of your friends can come over.

10. Like, oh, my God? You're so right?

Cleaver Madness

2009-12-08T04:18:00.000-08:00

Holidays are tough for everyone . Sometimes it helps to let off a little steam when staring down the barrel of a ...gun I like to call "a visit from my parents", Ward and June. For those of you too young to get the reference-- these were the superstraight parents in the 50's show Leave it to Beaver. Hell no, I wasn't born in the fifties, but they ran reruns of that show forever. And, when you only have 8 channels to watch on TV as a kid, you'll watch just about anything. including fly fishing and Leave it To Beaver.

I was hanging out Cleaver bashing with a couple of my Twitter friends, including the hysterical @croneandbearit and, well.. this is what happened.

Disclaimer *no actual patrents were Cleavered in the ensuing tweets.

@sueannesjewelry Factoid: 4:00 is NOT too early to start drinking when June and Ward are visiting

@Croneandbearit: Make them Cleaverinis

@sueannejewelry ROTFL

@DietCokeLuvah : Cheers

@TheShoeDawg Wally, Beav, Eddie...it's happy hour

@yaslani Cosign that. I started 1hr ago

@heavywhisper Ha! Hilarious. I think I know them

@Croneandbearit u started my coughing fit w/June & Ward. I'm in hysterics over here.

Croneandbearit I'm goin' after some gin and goldfish; leave a tray and the Cleavers can fix their own...lol

@sueannesjewelry If June and Ward had a daughter, what would her name be?

@Croneandbearit Leaver

@Croneandbearit if she drinks it might be Heaver

@sueannesjewelry wiping tears

@sueannesjewelry If she was slutty, *the skeeve* ?

@Croneandbearit don't start, I just lost a lung a moment ago

@Croneandbearit Catch her at the window...*the peeve* #Cleaversdaughter

@sueannesjewelry bad day at the hair salon *the Weave*

@Croneandbearit If she wears hair extension from Jessica Simpson collection...*the weave* #Cleaversdaughter

Croneandbearit Yikes we are thinking too much alike there girl!

@sueannesjewelry OH MY GAH! We had the same thought. #upyourmeds #now

Croneandbearit If they always have to go get her...*Retrieve* #Cleaversdaughter

@sueannesjewelry Or.. If she dates dogs

@sueannesjewelry If she got busted for murder? *HideThe* #Cleaversdaughter

@Croneandbearit You're killin me #ineedmorebooze

@Croneandbearit If she gets that stay of execution...*Reprieve* #Cleaversdaughter

@sueannesjewelry If not.. *Grieve*

@sueannesjewelry What if she IS a dog.. *Retriever* #Cleaversdaughter

@sueannesjewelry If she's a blonde, add *Golden*

@Chasaveen: If she cheated on her spouse the Deceiver?

@Croneandbearit If she tp's the house *Mischiever* #Cleaversdaughter

@Chasaveen If she loves The Monkees, *Imabeliever*?

@Croneandbearit wait if Kiefer Sutherland married into the family would he be Kiefer Cleaver?

@sueannesjewelry *clapping hand to mouth*

@Chasaveen If she gets Swine Flu *Fever*

@Croneandbearit crosses legs to keep from peeing

@sueannesjewelry (or.. If she's HOT! )

@Croneandbearit If she moves to Canada, *Beaver Minor*

@sueannesjewelry Screech!!! A Canada joke! Helllppp!

@sueannesjewelry If she looks like Frankenstein, *pullthelever* #Cleaversdaughter

@sueannesjewelry if she's a carnivore *Meat* #Cleaversdaughter

@Croneandbearit Heee hee hee

@Croneandbearit if she's a pothead.*Reefer* #Cleaversdaughter

@Croneandbearit if Morley Safer's daughter married the Beav, would she be Mrs. Beaver Safer-Cleaver?

Happy Holidays! Linda's @croneandbearit blog can be found here : http://croneandbearit.wordpress.com/

The Seven Deadly DM Sins

2009-11-18T04:16:00.000-08:00

Twitter Sinners! Are you heading straight to Twitter haaiil in a DM handbasket? It's not too late to pull your shit together! Here are the Seven Deadly DM Sins:

Lust: Try not to say anything in a DM that you wouldn't actually say to someone's face. Note: If it wouldn't make a nun blush it's best to say it in public on the timeline. That said, over-doing it is a quick and easy way to get blocked. I said blush, not call 911.

Gluttony: It's best to talk about pie and the best french onion soup you ever had in public. We can allll tell when you're not sharing. But you CAN show us a picture of the $700 Kooba bag your husband is not supposed to know about. That's cool. Wink.

Sloth: Jesus... would you put a clean shirt on? Don't make your public comments so obscure we have no idea what you are talking about. Clarify what you meant by your mysterious @ reply on the timeline in DM when asked... WHAT THE HELL DID THAT MEAN?

Wrath: Oh...could you just be nice in your DMs... or F*ck off? That being said, it's perfectly acceptable for texting. : )

Greed: If we don't know you, why would we want to be in your mafia family or look at your potentially hacked sales link? Don't sell us unless you already know we want what you have. Make friends before sales. Shameless Plug: www.sueanneshirzay.etsy.com : my artisan jewelry site.

Anger: telling somebody to f*ck off more than twice in a single DM is waaay over the top. Twice per 140 is the limit. And say it with a smile. : )

Pride: If you are lost, and you think we have the answer, (I usually do, DUH) ask for help in a DM. We are all helpful here. Just don't ask me personally to help you find your way out of the Mall. This I cannot do.

Thank you to my friends @JesusWife and @DebbieDee5 for inspiring me to write this little DM Directory, Love you guys. : )

Top Ten Reasons No Self-Respecting Bitch Will Follow You On Twitter

2009-11-10T07:55:00.000-08:00

1. You tweet about your favorite sexual positions, you're a woman, and you teach first grade in my child's school.

2. Your avatar looks like it could actually chop up my avatar and put it in little plastic baggies all over New York.

3. You have proclaimed yourself God of Twitter, you never engage and you just spit out boring information all day, usually about yourself, how white your teeth are, or how much money you made in the last 15 minutes.

4. You tweet like all you want out of Twitter is to get laid. And you provide reports for the rest of us. Which you expect us to grade. By 4:00 Friday each week. With highlighter. Pink.

5. You're @KanyeWest

6. You tweet only Zig Ziglar quotes and you are nooo freakin' relation to Zig Ziglar. *disclaimer* Nobody should be related to Zig Ziglar, and if you are, get the Hell off Twitter, please?

7. You spew out political beliefs that are so nuts they actually make me laugh, or throw things at my monitor. You argue with those who are way smarter with you. Most of the people you argue with can actually spell. Unlike you.

8. You are trying to convert me into your cult-- law of subtraction, addition, multiplication or whatever the fuck that is.

9. You look like 3 of my ex-boyfriends. The ones who wanted to get married.

10. You put hearts, flowers and ping pong matches within your tweets. This causes gastrointestinal distress. Stop it. I can't type if I'm puking. And I can't puke if I'm typing.

Top Ten Reasons Not To Give a Flying F*ck About 620 Calories

2009-11-03T05:00:00.000-08:00

This... is a Pecan Roll From Au Bon Pain. That's French for "Oh, My GODDDD!"

1. 620 calories never cared about you, did they, Huh, HUH? Well, DID THEY?

2. You can't see your thighs if you Just..don't..look...down.

3. They won't help you find your ipod headphones

4. They won't help you stop breaking wine glasses in the sink

5. If you didn't support the sugar industry the people in the Dominican Republic would have slightly worse living conditions. You just helped somebody patch their rusted tin roof. Philanthropy is Good.

6. There has to be justification for you to have a treadmill in the basement. Other than hanging bras on.

7. If you cut them into four they are only a measly 155 calories.

8. ...and you can lie and say the dog ate the other 465 calories

9. There are nuts involved. Nuts are healthy, Dammit.

10. 620 calories is Waaaay freakin' less calories than eating an entire pie. #ilikepie

Coffee Tawk

2009-10-25T05:24:00.000-07:00

I Found God

At the bottom of my coffee pot

Where the grounds lay mocking me

All Alone

Chewing my last bubblegum

I said "Where you been?"

He said "Ask anything"

(to the tune of the Fray's "You Found Me" )

I recently took a little survey among my *eyeroll* legions and legions of twitter friends. "Would you rather live in a world without coffee or chocolate? " I just love asking stupid and annoying questions. If for no other reason than the stupid and annoying responses I get are easily TWICE as stupid and annoying as the original question posed.
As I already made myself a cup this morning and--true to form--lost it somewhere in the house before it was even cool enough to drink, I thought it would be a good time to, well, talk caffeine.

I happen to be married to a tea drinker, for starters. Yeah, I know what you're thinking- "Jesus, God, Sueanne, not only did you marry someone who doesn't like PIE, #ilovepie but he won't even drink COFFEE?! How did this happen??!! I know, I know and... no, he won't drink coffee unless it just happens to taste like tea. Opposites attract. #gofigure . He has many other redeeming qualities. I digress. So... when I make a pot of coffee, guess what? I'll be drinking alone again.

This drinking an entire pot of coffee business really can't be healthy, but that didn't stop me from ordering coffee from my friend @suesshirtshop http://twitter.com/suesshirtshop on Twitter, which gets delivered in handy single pot servings every other month. It's called Javafit, and no, nobody's paying me to rant about them. Here's the deal though. This coffee has vitamins in it. And antioxidants, energy boosters other than the caffeine, and all that other crap that Oprah always says is so good for you. How cool is that shit, I ask you. It's very cool. Guilt free. And it tastes really good.

As far as my survey went, not surprisingly, most of the women who answered would absolutely not give up their chocolate. A few shrieked at me for making them choose. Guess what? I WOULD NOT GIVE UP COFFEE. Only one guy said he'd take the chocolate over coffee, but frankly, he's crazy anyway and probably just said that to goad me and get slapped around.

That's all I have for now. I REALLY need to find my coffee cup. Can't make the jewelry without it.http://www.sueanneshirzay.etsy.com

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch.

2009-10-17T07:18:00.000-07:00

As I stated in my post from 7/19 , *Nurturing Your Inner Bitch* Being bitchy is a very positive character attribute and I would encourage more men and women to rejoice in their bitchiness.

I am teaming up with Bitchogram, a service that allows you to anonymously text and email bitchy remarks (though, frankly, I sign mine) -> see ad to the right , because I think it’s a hilariously good fit for me and of course, part of the proceeds will benefit my love for jewelrymaking, www.sueanneshirzay.etsy.com and keep me knee deep in pie. #ilovepie

The following are a short list of suggested Bitchograms, culled from a variety of sources, because, let’s face it, some of you are just too damn nice for your own good and you seriously need my help.

Bitchograms to Boys from Girls:

* I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce.

* Don't think of it as losing, think of it as getting beat by a girl

* I'm not a tease, I’m just a reminder of what you can't have

* It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt

* It takes 42 muscles to frown and only four to extend my middle finger and tell you to bite me.

* Everyone’s entitled to be stupid but you are abusing the privilege

* How about never? Is never good for you?

* Click your heels and say "I NEED A LIFE, I NEED A LIFE"

* I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.

Bitchograms to Girls from either Girls or Boys :

* Good friends will help you move. REALLY good friends will help you move bodies."

* I am NOT a Bitch, I only play one on Twitter

* I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.

* When I’m faced with a difficult task, pass it on to a lazy person like you and you’ll figure out an easier way to accomplish it.

* A good friend will bail you out of jail, but a best friend will be in the next cell saying "that was fucking awesome!”

* Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in her shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.

* Roses are red violets are blue

sugar is sweet and so are you,

but the roses are wilting, the violets are dead

the sugar bowls empty and so is your head

* Your friends are worth more than you think--$5.99 at least

* Kirstie Alley called. She wants her ass back. Meet me at the Gym at 7 a.m.

That’s it. You’re Welcome. If any of you are interested in adding Bitchogram to your own blog/website please leave your info with me at shirzaygallery@aol.com.

Look! Up at the Mall! It's a Turd, It's a Pain! - It's SHOPPING MAN!

2009-10-10T05:14:00.000-07:00

Faster than a speeding credit card swipe! More powerful than 5 Perfume-spraying Bitches! Able to leap over 10 shoe boxes in a single bound!
Shopping is fun. Unless you are with SHOPPING MAN.
Here are my Top Ten Reasons Never to Shop with a Man

1. Shopping Man doesn't really think it's "shopping" unless he returns with a month's worth of steak, onions, garlic and generic black socks that *you* will lose in the dryer within the next 3 days anyway.

2. Shopping Man would really rather be eating, sleeping, watching sports or having sex, or... all of the above simultaneously, than carrying your shopping bags for you. Shopping Man thinks your fitting room is a perfectly acceptable place to do all of the above.

3. Shopping Man has interesting ideas of how you should look that are not based on any kind of reality. Why should it be up to him if you look like a nun, a slut, or a slutty nun knocking off the local 7-11 whilst blowing bubbles with bazooka gum? I don't think so.

4. Shopping Man has an annoying habit of asking the shopgirls at Bloomingdales and Anthropologie which aisle the Corona is in. It wasn't funny the first time, why would it be funny the twenty-third? Or the seventy-eighth?

5. Shopping Man will eat a bag of artery clogging buttery pretzel nuggets while slurping down a chocolate shake and think you will let him touch you and/or your shopping bags. What good is Shopping Man if he can't heft your bags around? None to you.

6. Shopping Man is clueless what the true cost of being high-maintenance for today's woman really is. They will proudly whip out a $20 bill when it's time to pay for the Uggs. *disclaimer* Uggs are Ugly. I bought the cute ones, though. Let Shopping Man live in a pretend retail world. Leave him at home and never...NEVER... EVER .....let him see the Amex bill. Or the paypal account you use to buy jewelry from my site www.sueanneshirzay.etsy.com (shamelessplug)

7. Shopping Man likes to say "don't you have one of those already", which, ladies is by law in several states a slappable offense. Yes, you DO have one of those already. You actually have THREE of those. And your point IS? ...Shopping Man? Don't make me hurt you.

8. Shopping Man has a crazy notion you give a super hero flying crap about how you look to him. We all dress for women and ourselves anyway so we can tell each other how cute we are all day long. The sooner Shopping Man learns that, the better.

9. Shopping Man is color blind. Shopping Man : "Gee, I liked you better in the blue one." Shopping Woman: "Honey, that one was red". Shopping Man: "Oh. That green one, then" .Shopping Woman: "Honey that one is purple. VERY Purple". Shopping Man. "Oh". " (Please_.

10. Shopping Man is scared by loud noises and will actually try to TALK to you in Abercrombie & Fitch to calm himself down. He does not understand that stores crank the music so that women do not have to LISTEN to what men SAAAY.

Those are the top 10 reasons. There are so very many more. Any questions?

Of Mice and Monkeys: The Tonight Show Couch with Chris

2009-10-04T04:59:00.000-07:00

For this week’s post, I was feeling a little curious, and okaaay -new for me- just plain lazyassed. I asked one of my favorite writers, lover of all things random, and trusted advisor who on occasion has helped me wade thru the briny rancid muck of the blogosphere- Chris Illuminati -a few really crucial questions I juuuust hadn’t gotten around to. The devilishly handsome, insanely funny and expectant father Chris Illuminati's ( @chrisilluminati ) blog can be found at www.chrisilluminati.com

SS: If you were locked in a lab with a rat and a monkey for two weeks with no chance of escape , which one would hit the bunsen burner first?

CI: I'd die. I used to be an iron heart about stuff but we got a cat about two years ago and I'm a huge softy when animals are involved now. I couldn't watch I Am Legend because I knew the dog would die. Sorry. SPOILER ALERT. I can't watch those animal commercials with Sarah Mclachlan because they kill me. She is awful. Oh right, the animals are sad too. If I had to choose though, the rat, because the monkey would have taken power by then and I'd have to listen to him.

SS: What made you laugh the loudest in the past month?

C.I. The Hangover. Great movie. In my personal life, my wife cracks me up. She emailed me the other day and said that people told her that if she has a lot of heartburn the baby will be very hairy. She said if that's the case we are having an orangutan. That killed me.

(note to self: Braun electric razors make GREAT babyshower gifts for new moms, as well as jewelry from www.sueanneshirzay.etsy.com Let the other schmucks buy the stroller)

SS: Why do you think women were put on this Earth?

CI: Someone has to tell men what they are doing wrong. Constantly.

SS: Does New Jersey really deserve to be a state? (why or why not)

CI: Of course it does. New Jersey gets such a raw deal and I blame MTV True Life and Judith Light. Thank god for the Real Housewives and Sopranos to tell it like it is in the Garden State.

SS: Would you rather live in a world without books or magazines? Elaborate.

CI: Magazines. I just noticed this trend the other day with some of the magazines I read that they all do this thing where certain words are highlighted, some words are massive fonts in different colors. Some articles start on the same page another article ends. What the funk is going on in the publishing industry? Who is the Editor-in-Chief- Elmo?

SS: Does anything embarass you and what is it?

CI: My mouth works faster than my mind and I trip over the easiest words in the English language. Usually 100 times a day. I can feel people waiting for me to finish a sentence and I can't because I'm hung up on a word like "lunch" or "tree". It's embarrassing and frustrating. I feel like a 3rd grader during a phonics lesson. Ummm..uhhhh...lamp?

SS: What is the best advice you can give to new writers?

CI: Don't, don't EVER give up. Let them say "no" two hundred times. It makes the yes feel like drugs. Anyone can be a success with a little talent and a ton of hard work. Hell, you can be a success with no talent and the write drive.

SS: Where is the place you are happiest and why?

CI: If we are talking mental, that zone where you are writing and the entire world disappears. Could be minutes, could be hours. Nothing is happening around you and your mind is going "take these words and put them on the page now!" If it's a physical place, then it's home with my wife.

SS: What one person on this planet do you think is a complete waste of space?

CI: Tough call. Like I think Perez Hilton is a waste because of how he made his name BUT I have to admire a guy who built a fortune with little talent. So, how about as a waste of space, anyone with immense talent that throws it all away. Here is an example; went to high school with a kid that had a natural talent at baseball. Born to play. Went to a huge school on a full scholarship. Came home after two months because he was "homesick". Played local, drank, did drugs and become the world's greatest pizza delivery boy. I've got no tolerance for those people.

SS: If you had a chance to go back and do something over in your life, what would it be?

CI: In high school and college, I was lazy. I never joined groups or did anything extra-curricular except sports. I think I was more scared of failure than really lazy but lazy sounds like a better excuse.

SS: If you were reincarnated, what would you like to come back as?

CI: Someone interesting enough to be interviewed or the Tonight Show couch.

SS: What kind of work would you like to do that you are not currently doing now?

CI: I want to write for a magazine at least once. Also because my parents don't understand blogging. They need something glossy with a photo on the cover. If I wasn't writing I think I'd be a teacher. I like kids and I always used to say "I'd be so much better than this boring bastard" in my high school and college courses.

SS: If you never had to work another day in your life, what would you be doing?

CI: I'd learn to master all the things I'm terrible at now like fixing things around the house. I'd also learn how to really cook. Right now I'm average.

SS: As an adult, what is the dumbest thing you ever said to somebody?

CI: Oh please, I say something dumb once a day. It's a sickness.

SS: What is your philosophy on life?

CI: Can I curse?

SS: Duh, Yes. I swear on here. I swear alot. More than I should, perhaps, but who fucking cares? (disclaimer: my mother has no idea I have a blog...yet)

CI: If I can, my philosophy is "Fuck it". In the grand scheme of the world, nothing is that big of a deal. Time passes, things change. Don't get wrapped up in the present, it won't matter in the future. If I can't curse, please change that fuck to screw. Thank you.

Thank you, Chris for being so entertaining, always helpful and not laughing at my newbie blog questions: i.e.” Duh, how do you put a hitcounter on a blog, duh huh?”

BFF Rules to Live By

2009-09-27T06:11:00.000-07:00

Is there anything better than having a truckload of friends? I think not. Here are a few handy rules to help you make and keep the Best Friends ForEvahhhh....

BFF Rule #1 If your BFF confides that she has had a little *work done*, promptly dismiss her bandages to other BFFs by saying she simply *got into a little tussle* at the Barneys sale

BFF Rule #2 Never dump your BFF for a man, unless he is that really hot guy from Prison Break. No... the older one.

BFF Rule #3 If your BFF asks you if you like her new outfit, do NOT glance behind her and ask if it came with a stripper pole.

BFF Rule #4 ALWAYS tell your BFF that is your SON. BEFORRRRE she asks him out.

BFF Rule #5 In the event your BFF decides to tell you she's had some *work done*, look surprised. (just not as surprised as her)

BFF Rule #6 Do Not say *MEOOOW* upon first meeting your BFF's Dear Husband or Boyfriend if he is younger than your BFF.

BFF Rule #7 Upon meeting BFFs DH or BF for the first time, do not say *YOWZA!*, or *HUBBA HUBBA!* Unless his name happens to BEEE Yowza or Hubba Hubba, of course.

BFF Rule #8 It's okay 2 buy the same bag as your BFF, but don't wear them when out together to avoid hearing *Hey, would you look at those two gorgeous BAGS!?* from other BFFs you encounter while out and about.

BFF Rule #9 If your BFF asks you if her ass looks fat in those pants, Do...NOT..Laugh... Before you say *NOOOO, not at ALLLLLL*.

BFF Rule #10 Always remember to bring an extra Bloomingdale's coupon for your BFF. You know how all that vodka has rotted her braincells and how she always forgets hers.

BFF Rule #11 Do not show BFF's DH or BF any tattoos that would not be seen while wearing a small bikini.

BFF Rule #12 Don't return shirt you borrowed from your BFF w/phone #s written on it, unless one belongs to that really hot guy from Prison Break. No... the older one.

BFF Rule #13 Do not order the fries with breakfast right after your BFF tells you she gained 5 pounds that very morning in the five seconds it took to weigh herself.

BFF Rule #14 Always tell your BFF you looooove her new haircolor. Even if she now greatly resembles a Crack Ho.

BFF Rule #15 If your BFF really needs that fourth cosmo, please switch to Diet Coke yourself. You are now the Designated Taxicab Hailer. Shameless plug ! Here is my New Cosmo-NOT necklace in my Etsy shop http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=31141364

BFF Rule #16 Never tell your BFF how many calories are in that Appletini. If she asks, LIE. The correct number is 75 or 60, if there is no cherry.

I hope this helps you make and keep many many friends. Please feel free to add to the list with your own BFF Rules. Smooches, Beotches! ; )

If I Were a Dude I’d Wanna Be Johnny Depp

2009-09-16T06:01:00.000-07:00

Many of you have asked me about what YOU call my “Johnny Depp fixation”. I thought it was time to explain the lore behind #whatwouldJohnnyDeppdo -which is the phrase I often tweet on twitter and think aloud when ever I get perplexed by life’s daily dilemmas--you know, like which martini to try next at the all-you-can-drink martini buffet, which leg of my jeans I should put on first in the morning, or how to react when someone is ridiculously rude to me. This will also explain my relentless need to quote Johnny Depp. I am Him, He is Me, we are One, Ooommm, and all that shit. It’s a Zen thing. I’ve really just been quoting myself all along....

“You can feed hot dogs to the nurse sharks in the Exumas – but it’s best to not swim when doing it.” - JD

1. Johnny owns his own island and he will use it.

In fact, I live on a small barrier island as well. Sure, there are 33,000 other people on it, none of whom can drive a car for crap. But I like to pretend like they all just work for me just so I can become one with my inner island-hopping Johnny. Especially when I see one of those golf carts driving by. #getarealcarbastard

“If there's any message to my work, it is ultimately that it’s OK to be different, that it’s good to be different, that we should question ourselves before we pass judgment on someone who looks different, behaves different, talks different, is a different color.” -JD

2. Johnny doesn’t watch his own movies after making them.

A true artist isn't all that concerned with admiring the finished product, but is there to enjoy the process. I get that about Johnny and I’m exactly the same way. If I made movies and had to watch I’d be nervously twitching the whole time, thinking “Jeeesus, God! does my ass really look like that? I’m never doing this again!” I’d be out at the premiere bar the whole time, after having tricked my cousin to dress like me and be my seat holder. I’m sure he’s happy that people love his work. I’m thrilled that people like mine. It is very gratifying and humbling making people happy. But I don’t stare at it all day and tell myself how fabulous it is because I’m already onto creating the next necklace, painting, or pair of earrings. Shameless Plug: www.sueanneshirzay.etsy.com

I pretty much try to stay in a constant state of confusion just because of the expression it leaves on my face. -JD

3. Johnny wears the same pair of boots all the time

Johnny is not afraid to be a non-fashionista. I am guilty of owning 8 different pairs of cowboy boots. I just keep buying more so people won’t think I’m a complete idiot, but basically they all look the same, and it’s about all I wear from October to May. Then I rotate to 20 nearly identical pairs of flip flops and sandals in the spring and summer. I have friends who call and ask me what color is “in” for a certain season. I always tell them “the one that looks good on you”. But the beotches keep asking me every season anyway. This cracks me up.

4. Johnny can pee standing up

This doesn’t need much explanation. I’d be a dude. This would make a lot of things easier. I could figure out how to make fuel from carrots instead of waiting in line at the bathroom.

"It was like an endless parade of, like, 'What?!' - JD

5. Johnny has a cool sense of humor.

Ever try to talk about yourself with someone taking notes and working a recorder? It’s almost impossible not to sound like a complete jackass. I know, I’ve done it a few times and wished I’d never opened my mouth. Johnny gives great interview. Laughing at yourself is what makes life fun. But we have the same sense of counterclockwise humor.

“I don't pretend to be captain weird. I just do what I do.” -JD

6. Johnny looks like THAT

I’d love to get up, not have to put on any makeup, and look smokin’ hot. The man is beautiful. Sure, I’ve been told I didn’t exactly get hit by the ugly stick, but I ain’t all that. Johnny is all that and change.

7. Johnny gets to be a pirate and act drunk, while maintaining a kickass work ethic

Sure, come Saturday night I usually try to do my best imitation, but the local bars no longer appreciate me swinging from the curtains and usually assign a bouncer to watch me right when I come in the door. If I was Johnny they’d just say “Oh, look, Johnny’s here. Guinness, Mr. Depp?”

“There's a drive in me that won't allow me to do certain things that are easy- JD

8. Johnny is true to himself

Lastly, this is the quality that I find most endearing in people who can actually pull it off, particularly Johnny Depp. Not many can. Johnny does it the best. All I can do is try.

How Not to Pick Up the Hot Chick in the Convertible

2009-09-02T02:15:00.000-07:00

"Chicks Dig Convertibles". That’s what one of the car dealers said to me as I was shopping for my car--with a resigned sigh and a shrug.

The following is a little Labor Day Public Service gift to all of my favorite men out there, to the men I have flipped off for years, and to my posse of convertible-driving Hot Chicks.

Fellas! Summer’s almost over. This is your last chance to pick up your local Hot Chick while her top’s still down.

NEVER expect Hot Chick to look at you, let alone speak to you, without giving her a compelling reason to do so. Lord knows she’s way too busy sipping that latte, texting, taking two calls at once on her iphone, rummaging through her bottomless bag for a Bloomie’s coupon, tweeting at all the stop lights to tell everybody on Twitter she can’t FIND her damn Bloomie’s coupon, applying the non-sticky variety of lipgloss, (to avoid being plagued by hair sticking to her mouth while driving, texting and rummaging) deciding if her stock portfolio is overweight in tech (AAPL) and wondering why the hell her manicure only lasted two days ...again.

If you want to get Hot Chick’s attention, you had better make it good, you had better make it quick, and you had better make it creative, because lest you forget, Hot Chick drives fast. Why shouldn’t she, nobody in their right mind would ever give her a ticket. The rules:

1. DON’T Honk, DON’T Whistle, DON’T make *kissy kissy* noises.

Hot Chick will assume you are not old enough to buy her drinks, or smart enough to know the correct mixology behind her favorite Cosmo - extra lime, shaken no fewer than 12 times behind your head. Ice chips. By the way, Hot Chick never makes her own Cosmos--YOU DO.

2. DO sing. Sing Loudly, Sing Badly. Here are three of many acceptable songs to sing to Hot Chick: You’re Beautiful http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztc4V3ttlso, You are so Beautiful http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlDmslyGmGI , And the song from Top Gun http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTvU3BELZEo&feature=related . I say to sing badly because if you don’t, Hot Chick will assume you do this all the time. Hot Chick can spot a Player from a very great distance. Pick an easy song so you don't screw it up.

3. DON’T ask "where’s the beach?" unless you happen to be absolutely nowhere near a beach. Even then, you must have a large map draped over your steering wheel for this to be most effective. Hot Chick likes to be helpful because she thinks she knows everything.

4. DO throw that box of Godiva and Sueanne Shirzay Artisan earrings you bought for your Mom into her car with your business card attached. Remove note to Mom saying you hoped her liposuction was a great success. http://www.sueanneshirzay.etsy.com

5. DON’T talk THROUGH the mom in the minivan driving in the lane between you who has her windows open.

This is not GOLF, you cannot PLAY THROUGH to get to Hot Chick.

6. DON’T tell her "her hair matches the leather upholstery".

It DOES, of course, but Hot Chick doesn’t care what you think of her hair. If she cared anything about her hair, she wouldn’t be driving a goddamn convertible in the first place.

7. DO wrap your business card in paper, make a plane out of it and throw it into Hot Chick’s car.

Hot Chick may assume you own a private jet, but you can clear that up later.

8. DON’T say *nice car* and DON’T ask *what year the car is*

She already knows it’s a nice car and doesn’t give a damn what year it is.

9. DO ask her for directions, but only to the local spa because *You Need a Day of Beauty*

10. DON’T block Hot Chick from getting out of her parking spot.

Hot Chick has 911 programmed into her iphone, (under the contact name ASSHOLE), and she WILL use it. Plus every cop in town knows her, even though they have never actually spoken. You really don’t want to meet them today, do you?

11. DO Take off your T shirt, attach it to a golf club, and wave it at her as a gesture of surrender. ONLY do this if you happen to be wearing a white t shirt and have seen the inside of a gym regularly for the last 6 months or more.

12. DON’T ask her if she's married or seeing anyone.

Hot Chick, even if ultimately unavailable for you, knows two dozen or more Hot Chicks who ARE available. Some are even hotter than she is. Hot Chick is a gifted matchmaker.

13. DO make a small sign with a large heart on it , with the word LUNCH, NOW? written inside the heart. Show credit card so Hot Chick knows you don’t mean Mcdonald's. And smile. This works especially well on Valentine’s Day. PIE? may be substituted for LUNCH, NOW? only if there is a really great PIE STORE around.

14. DON’T ask her if her Daddy bought the car for her

Hot Chick went to college, and her I.Q. makes yours like an effing Mets game score. She didn’t get to be a Hot Chick by being stupid. (note to self for next blog: why baseball is stupid)

15. DO throw your wallet into Hot Chick’s car.

No, Hot Chick doesn’t need your money, as she already makes more than you. But nothing says I GIVE THE EFF UP, better than this. If said wallet contains any velcro though, it will promptly be thrown over her shoulder into the nearest storm sewer. So make sure it’s a nice one if you expect her to stop the car and return it to you.

16. DON’T say "Here Comes Trouble".

It’s just tacky to call Hot Chick by her middle name before you have been properly introduced. So don’t do it.

Good luck to you all. A BIG thank you to my talented photographer friend @shelibilavender on Twitter for a conversation we had that inspired to me to write this post, (LOL see #5) Her webiste: http://photographyaffairs.com/ and all of my other convertible-driving Hot Chick posse. There are too many to name, I love you all. Mwah!

My Love Affair. With Pie.

2009-08-19T07:59:00.000-07:00

I Love Pie.

Blueberry, Cherry, Coconut Cream, Key Lime, Strawberry, Apple, Pecan, Banana Cream, Lemon Meringue, Mincemeat, Pumpkin, Italian Cream Cheese, and, yes...even Chicken Pot.

If in fact, the world ended tonight and there was nothing else but me and pie left in the world, sitting on the roof of my house, waiting for a chopper that never arrived, I would be perfectly okay with that...as long as I had access to pie. I know that sounds selfish. What about your kids? What about your Husband? Your Mom? Your Dad? Coconut, your dog? (named after pie) You can’t kiss a pie goodnight, Sueanne. Uh, yes, yes you can. At least I’d have pie. And over the years my family has come to accept and understand this.

My hot steamy love affair with pie started when I was a little girl. My grandma on my mom’s side was a wonderful southern lady. When ever we’all visited she’d have at least 5-6 different kinds of desserts waiting for us--sometimes more--and and least three of those would be pie. She did coconut cream, cherry, banana cream, and lemon meringue the best. You name it, she could bake anything, and she was amazing.

My mother took after her and in fact got an undergrad AND graduate degree in Home Ec. Not only can she sew like Giorgio Armani, she is like the Martha Stewart of Muncie, Indiana when it comes to the kitchen. She has every kitchen gadget you can imagine. She makes my father birthday pie. Not birthday cake. That’s how good her pie is.

As I was the only daughter, pie, cake, and cookie baking fell into my lap at an early age. I knew what a pastry cutter was when the other girls were still fighting over which Barbie Ken would shag that night at the Dreamhouse. So I had a lot of practice when I went out in the world. There are many things you can do in life if you can knock out a variety of tasty pies.

Then it happened.

I married outside of my faith. That’s right. I married a cake eater. And gave birth to three more cake eaters. I know. How did this happen? Is this because I wouldn’t let that really annoying girl sit at my lunch table in 7th grade? Because I already said I’m sorry. I’M SORRY!!! I soon realized that too many pies would go to my thighs. So I stopped baking pies.

This was all okay because If I looked really hard, I could find good pies at a bakery. But they mostly sucked. Then one day I stopped at a farmstand in upstate NY and... lo and behold, what did I see? --- A cherry blueberry pie homemade by Me-Oh-My Pies. The sun came out from behind a cloud. I could hear the sound of angels singing. I didn’t care about the $13 price on the pie. I grabbed it and never looked back.

This sucker was almost as good as Grandma’s. Knock wood, throwing salt over shoulder. For three years I’ve always bought those pies whenever I drive upstate.

Unfortunately, the last time I stopped at the farmstand, there were exactly ZERO pies. I’m told the baker now has Lyme Disease. It’s common up there. I pray for her speedy recovery. Every day. Twice a day.

Until then, could somebody hook me up with some kick-ass pie?

#WTFHappened CSI Interstate 87. Jewelry Giveaway Contest

2009-08-08T04:35:00.000-07:00

#WTFHappened? CSI Interstate 87. My first Jewelry Giveway Contest.

Driving back downstate from the Catskill mountains, as I often do, you’re bound to see many things. Deer crossing the road. Deer who didn’t cross the road ON the road. Puke in the backseat of the car if you get stuck in stop and go. Lots of pick ‘em up trucks. Ski racks with kids tied to them.

My 15 year old son and I have the exact same sense of warped humor. We have this odd way of saying the same random punchline at the same time. We just think the same things are stupid. I’m not sure if he has a woman’s brain in his head or if I have the brain of a 15 year old boy. I try not to think about it.

Fact is, we both started laughing like two drunk VIPs at a redneck tour show when we saw this minivan next to us. We didn’t just see it for a minute. We were stuck in traffic on 87 for 2 hours. It stalked us. And we just kept laughing. Because..look..that’s just some weird-ass mud splatter pattern you have there. This van was perfectly clean in the back. The whole front was an insult to OCD-you’re-not-eating-THAT-in my-car van driving mommies everywhere. It was thick and it was strange. We saw somebody else taking pictures of it too. Which made us laugh even longer. At least we were classy enough to keep the camera INSIDE the car.

Have some fun with me. Tell me what happened to this Honda Odyssey, license plate beginning in XXL (not kidding) and ending in 8. Tweet it @sueannesjewelry and please use the hashtag #WTFhappened so I can keep track. No dms please.

The most random and creative answer will win a $50 gift certificate for my jewelry. Winner will be announced Tuesday Morning. Two entries per person is cool.

And if the person comes forward who was driving that van, they get a $50 G.C. too. Virginia Plates.

You have 36 hours.... Get out your swabs and black light and GO!

And the winners are....Miss Shelbi Lavender @Shelbilavender:

There was a mud wrestling contest happening that night. Tons of people all around and up struts this cupcake fat girl, she just wanted a chance to play. Well the skinny hot mud wrestlers wouldn't have that so a fight broke out. Fat cupcake chick was tossin skinnys all over the place then more skinnys started comin. Cupcake fat chick was losing steam she had to get away, she started running. The skinny chicks knew they couldn't take her down so one of the skinnys got in her honda minivan and before fat girl knew what was coming SPLAT! She hit the minivan and dropped like a fly.

Skinnys tied her up and sat on her while eating cupcakes! it was sweet!

ANDDDDDD.

Runner up: @beerisgoodfood :

Never park next to the Immodium tour bus.

Since nobody came forward as the owner of the fabulous minivan, I decided to give out 2 $50 gift certificates.

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!! And thanks to everybody for playing.

Nurturing Your Inner Bitch

2009-07-24T07:23:00.001-07:00

I’m a Bitch.

Oh, puleeze, Sueanne, you’re thinking. Get serious. You’re one of the nicest women.... You open doors for freakin’ everybody, you’re encouraging, supportive, helpful, friend to many. You practically have a therapy couch set up in the living room, for crissakes... This is all true. I am from the Midwest originally, which makes it even harder to believe I am capable of being Queen of all Bitches. You would never know what I am capable of...unless you have made the mistake of pissing off the Redhead.

Let me just say I consider it a compliment to be called a Bitch and I would encourage everybody to both

rejoice in and learn to bring out your inner bitch. Forget about the inner child. The inner bitch is way more fun. The inner child needs a binky. The inner bitch needs tequila. Do you see where I’m going with this?

Why be a bitch? Because we all love bitches. Who loves a doormat? NOBODY except a muddy shoe.

Does this mean you yell and scream at people and are a miserable and unhappy person? No. Do you make other people unhappy? No. Discovering your inner Bitch means you know who you are, are at peace with that, and you expect and demand other people to respect you. When you learn to love your inner bitch you will in fact be at the happiest and most content place in your life.

Let’s all be strong men and women. Don’t settle for crap. I’m not saying you need to be mean. I’m saying suck it up, be strong, ask, no ...demand... what you want and need, and don’t stop until you get it. You determine what it takes to make you happy. So be a fucking bitch when you need to be. Life’s too short to wonder what would have happened IF you had done something differently. Just do it differently to BEGIN with.

Whether that’s demanding better behavior from your significant other, or a better table at the new restaurant in town, or that your idiot professor change your grade because you deserve it... Be a Bitch. Hate your new haircut? SAY something. Be a Bitch. Need a raise at work? Tell them why you deserve it. Be a Bitch.

You will quickly see that once people figure out you won’t put up with their shenanigans, they will give you the respect you need. Then you can tone down the bitch and just keep her on the back burner for emergency situations.

And, contrary to popular belief, there is nothing wrong with men being bitches. It really is a more masculine trait, when you think about it. Men get what they want, and so should my Bitches.

I'm the Man

2009-07-13T11:24:00.001-07:00

This summer I became a man.

That’s right, I mowed 3 acres of 2 ft high grass on a riding mower, twice. And I’ll do it again.

But let me back up, or put it in reverse.

The grass in question is in upstate NY in the Catskills. You know, log home, great for tubing, skiing, summer campfires with raunchy lyrics made up to the tune of Kumbaya, bears, deer, rampant lyme disease, mosquitos the size of Rhode Island, that kind of thing. The kind of place that just makes you want to drink non-lite beer and see who can burp the loudest.

There is no cell service up there, because the residents are stupid, I mean stubborn enough to want to keep it that way, I guess, so once my right hand stops twitching toward my iphone and twitterfon button, I kick back, start relaxing, stop wearing makeup, crank up the Carrie Underwear CD, and make a lot of jewelry.

And it’s quiet. So quiet. Not only can your hear yourself think, you can hear everybody on the entire street think. They aren’t too bright, so once I stop listening to them think after 10 minutes or so, I notice how the stars are huge at night and the air is perfect.

The kids even get along better as they have nothing to do but watch TV, play outside, and bust my chops. We do have cable internet access, but In a brilliant move I decided to go for the slowest kind of service available. Did I mention there is no cell service? There is no cell service. That means no iphone. No cell service. There is no cell service.

We’ve had this place for about 4 years and were usually able to find somebody reliable to mow the grass and plow the snow. That ended with this guy Brendan or Brenden, never quite did get his name, who bailed on us so many times we finally bought a riding mower last summer.

Back to the Lawn. Mowing the lawn has always been my son’s job, But, because we decided at age 15, it was time for him to learn the value of a dollar, My Dear Boy just got a job at a swanky beach club locally as a cabana boy. This is a very difficult job requiring heavy lifting (moving beach chairs) customer service (learning how not to gape at everybody’s daughters) and food management (delivering fries and burgers to the members without eating any). So he’s out of the picture as far as the lawn goes.

Just one problem with his fabulous new job. We forgot about the grass. And it rained alot.

As I pulled into the long driveway the horror awaited me. 2-3 ft tall weeds and grass. 3 acres of it. For sake of argument, I guess you could call it a lawn, but really, the place looked like redneck hell. All that was missing was an abandoned rusted out pick up truck on the front lawn and shotgun shells near an old wooden post.

After I stopped swearing in front of my young impressionable daughters, I unpacked the car and went out to the shed to get the mower and get down to business. And then I started eating grass. I mean mowing the lawn.

To my credit, I did not utter more than a dozen curse words as the wind blew everything in my face and contact lenses, or gag as something that was still moving flew up my nose. I did instead choose to retaliate by singing every song I know as loudly as possible and changing the words to curse my husband, who was “working” that weekend.

Three hours later, I did not even cry when the mower got stuck in a little ditch and it took me half hour to throw my entire body against it to inch it out because there was nobody to help me. Did you know AAA doesn’t cover riding lawnmower towing service? They don’t. No, I remained a good role model for my daughters and sucked it up.

After all, my middle daughter will be old enough to mow the lawn in 2 years. Mama didn’t raise no fool, honey.