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May 2003 Archives

May 7, 2003

Daddy V in the Hospital

Tuesday of last week Mister got a phone call from one of his three sisters. She informed him that his father was in the hospital (with pneumonia) and it looked like he would require open-heart surgery. That evening it was confirmed that his daddy would need surgery, so Mister and I started looking for flights to Orlando from Dallas. The surgery was tentatively scheduled for Thursday morning and Mister wanted to get there before the surgery so we searched high and low for affordable tickets for our flight. Priceline.com, Cheaptickets.com, hotwire.com… I searched them all people. I searched all the major airlines as well. You could really tell which companies were hurting for business because they had their prices hiked up higher than a hooker’s skirt. We actually found flights on American for $1400.00 or some such tomfoolery.

Priceline.com took our pitiful bid and we went about alerting our bosses and family members of the impending trip. We packed and drove to the airport Wednesday morning amid a flurry of stress and worry. I was nervous about meeting his family, and under the circumstances I felt like I was going to be more of a hindrance than a help to them. That was totally selfish to think that way, but I wanted, nay needed, to be near Mister during this trial. I was not able to go with him to the funeral when his grandmother passed away a few months ago, and it may sound morbid, but I wanted to meet his family (his father especially) before anything could or would happen.

His parents are missionaries (not in the field) and two of his sisters are missionaries (actually in the field). With this being the case, they are not together as a whole family very often. The whole family showed up to support Mister’s dad. It was wonderful to meet them all.

Mister’s oldest and youngest sisters are the ones in the field. They are amazing women, very sure of faith, his oldest sister seems almost serene to me. Mister, his closest sister (2nd oldest, Sister A) and I are all cut from the same cloth so to speak, so I bonded with her right off. His parents have very strict religious rules that they place on themselves to follow, so while under their roof, I tried very hard to be good. It almost seemed to me that they reside in a vacuum of a sort. No temptations allowed anywhere near them or their family. I don’t mean that I am Satan or anything; I’m not some painted whore who tried to remain inconspicuous while being thrown into the Pope’s living room. I’m just not as strict in my beliefs, my faith or myself as they are. I almost felt like I was a spiritual imposter just being in their presence.

Mister and I had to return to Dallas last night. We stayed in Florida for a week spending time with the family and talking with doctors. The doctors kept pushing things back. Mister’s dad was so very frustrated, poor man.

When we got there Wednesday night Mister’s dad (Daddy V) was scheduled for surgery, a triple bypass with a valve repair, on Thursday morning. Thursday morning the doctors decided to do an x-ray on his jaw to make sure he did not have any bad teeth. They found one tooth that needed to come out so that pushed the surgery to Friday. The tooth was not extracted until Tuesday (yes, almost a week later) night so his surgery was pushed back to today.

Daddy V came out of surgery this morning. They ended up doing a quadruple bypass with a valve replacement. About three hours ago Mister’s oldest sister (Sister J) called to give him an update. Daddy V had started bleeding internally and they took him back into surgery. Sister J called back when he was back out of surgery.

All of this worry is taking a toll on Mister. He is not sleeping well.

I wish this entry were more up beat.

I know. I’ll tell you guys about my namesake.

My great Aunt Sue is from the same town that Mister’s family is from. Small world huh? I have not seen her in several years. She is the sweetest woman. She lives just a few streets away from the Mission where Mister’s parents work. I called her Thursday and Friday, no answer. On Saturday when Mister and I took a break from the hospital I called her again. Success! She was there and better yet, her daughter (my 2nd cousin) and her daughter’s family were in town too. Apparently they had been at the beach all week and were back in town to do some laundry and run errands.

Mister and I went over and spent a few hours with Aunt Sue. She told us some wonderful stories about my grandparent’s, my father and the rest of my family. She is an amazing conversationalist. She mentioned that since her brother, Uncle Denver, died that she was very lonely. I swear ya’ll. I wanted to pack up right then and there and move in with her, or bring her back to Texas with me. She’ll be 89 this year. Love her, love her, love her!

Yesterday before Mister and I headed to the airport to fly home we stopped by so I could hug on her a little bit more and kiss all their faces. They all hugged on Mister too. My 2nd cousin, Linda, asked Mister, “So, Mister, what exactly are your intentions with our Suzanna here?” He boldly told her that he intended to marry me. When we left, he asked me, “Does this mean that I am your intended now?” I answered, “Of course. You told my family straight out that you intended to marry me.” He said, “Oh goodness, I guess I need to get in touch with your father before Aunt Sue or Linda call him!”

He tried to call my father on the way to the airport. Surprise, surprise… the phone was busy.

May 22, 2003

New Design and a bit of 'Shine'

Virgin Concrete! YAY! Main Street through Lewisville is partially open. The virgin concrete feels sooooooooooo luxurious. Sounds retarded huh? Well, it is luxurious. The street is wider, smoother and has 2 extra lanes.

I am less than 60 days away from the convention and yesterday morning the president of the association (Brian) sent an email to the executive staff (and me) bemoaning one of our seminars. Actually two. Same guy, two seminars. Brian actually used the phrase, “most awful seminar I have ever attended, bad, pitiful… almost insulting.” Thank goodness I included a cancellation clause in the speaker’s contract.

Here’s the rub. We worked out a deal with said seminar giver dude. He was a few invoices behind, so when he called and asked if he could do a seminar, we decided to offer him a clean slate instead of an honorarium*. I drew up a speaker’s contract and sent it to him. Back in March.

*hon·o·rar·i·um ( n -râr - m)
n. pl. hon·o·rar·i·ums or hon·o·rar·i·a (- - )
A payment given to a professional person for services for which fees are not legally or traditionally required.

Today, however, the boss man asked for seminar dude’s contact information. They are canceling his seminar. Personally, I think it is poor form to cancel with such short notice before the convention when the contract was signed so long ago. I think that the main issue is said seminar giver dude is not hurting for money. The executive board thinks that he is just being a total scrub and not paying his bills by choice, not necessity. If that is the case, then sure, he needs to pay his bills, but regardless, we worked a deal out with him. Thank goodness they aren’t making me call the poor man. Now all I have to do is find a replacement. Whee.

I’m in the office by myself today. I wasn’t planning on it, but it sure is a nice treat. Co-worker C is on a cruise and boss man decided to work from home. I can feel the tension melting away. I am still calling all of my vendors to alert them to the Smaller Booth Fiasco from Friday. To my pleasure and complete amazement, most of them don’t give a tinker’s damn if their booth is a little smaller for the convention. I have only had one vendor ask for monetary compensation.

Most of you (all two of you) have noticed that I have a new design gracing my little diary here. An amazing man, Oz, created a design for my diary in the honor of Gilda Radner’s Rosanne Rosanna Danna. I didn’t even offer that as a suggestion. Oz is that good people. Please visit his website to see the other designs he has created, or just to read some old fashioned gossipy news and fun stuff from his diary.

I haven’t been updating lately. I have been quite at a lack of things to say. Virgin concrete may not rivet you, fair reader, as it rivets me.

I have had many things on my mind. The big question, whether or not I want to find a new job, has been weighing heavily. Along with the wish for Daddy V’s swift recovery. He had to be taken back into ICU last Sunday because of water on his lungs. Mister doesn’t seem too concerned about any of it. I am not sure if it is because no matter what, he got to spend some time with his father, or if he just has peace knowing that even if his father’s soul did leave his earthly body, that his soul would go to heaven.

I’ve also been thinking about my beautiful great-aunt Sue. She lives in the same small town where Mister grew up and subsequently where his parents still reside. I got to see her while Mister and I were in town visiting Daddy V before his surgery. My father (Barry) sent me an email that he received from his sister talking about Aunt Sue.

“Was just sitting down to send you a note. Aunt Sue called this am----to tell me about her SURPRISE!! Just was so thrilled about [Suzanna] stopping by and they really, really liked [Mister]. She said she wished that she could have [Suzanna] to live with her or close by. Barry---she said she sees YOU very much in [Suzanna]---and "You know how sweet Barry is and how much I love him."”
You see, I think Aunt Sue has a bit of ‘shine’ to her. Several things have been said to add to this feeling along with the fact that I just have that sense about her. When I say ‘shine’, to me it means that someone has almost a sixth sense about him or her. Not an “I see dead people” sixth sense, but more along the lines of they can tell what is in your heart.

When Mister and I left her home after spending a few hours with her, I was almost in tears with joy of seeing her but not wanting to leave. I told Mister in the car that very day (right after we left her) that if he were not in the picture I would up and leave everything in Texas and move in with Aunt Sue. She doesn’t see very well anymore and it is hard for her to get around. To see that she told my Aunt Jean (daddy’s sister) that she wanted me to live with her was just another notch in the ‘Aunt Sue has shine’ book.

Another example of her shine is when Mister and I were in his home town visiting his daddy, I stayed with his mother and two sisters in one house and he stayed across the street at a neighbors per his mother’s wishes. You see, his parents are very strict in a religious sense and they thought it would not be ‘right’ for an unmarried man and woman (who are courting) to stay in the same house. I had no problems with being true to their wishes, but I have to be honest when I say that I missed Mister extremely. I felt like I could not put my hands on him, even in a nonsexual manner, lest I upset his parents. When Mister and I went to visit Aunt Sue, she held on to me for a mighty long while when we first got there. I was pleased with her affection and returned it happily. The only things weighing on my mind at the time were the fact that I missed being under the same roof with Mister, Daddy V’s health and what I was missing at work. A few days ago Mister called his mother. She reported on everything that was going on with Daddy V’s health and what was to be expected because he was back in ICU. She then went on to tell Mister that Aunt Sue had called to talk to her. She mentioned that she and Aunt Sue talked for several hours and had plans on meeting for coffee or lunch in the near future. I do appreciate Aunt Sue being the stand in ambassador for my family during this time. It is proper for families of a courting couple to get to know one another. Since my immediate family is in Texas and Mister’s immediate family is scattered all over Florida and even into Panama, Aunt Sue may be acting as a go between. Bless her heart; I really do love that woman.

During the phone call between Mister’s mother and Aunt Sue, Aunt Sue asked, “Were they sleeping together?” Mister’s immediate reaction was somewhat comical, “WHAT!”, before he realized that Aunt Sue’s query was not sexual in nature. Mister’s mother assured her that Mister had stayed across the street during our brief stay.

The fact that Aunt Sue gleaned that from my heart while we were visitin’ is just another testament to her shine.

I mentioned my shine theory to my father on Monday night when he called. He pooh pooh’d the thought like he does most anything out of the ordinary. But I know that deep down he was touched when Aunt Sue and I spoke of a heartfelt bond we felt with each other many years apart without knowing what the other said.

May 28, 2003

Baby Huey... SEXY!

I have worried about my weight since I was in the 4th grade. Apparently, that was the first time I was self-conscience enough to realize that I was the tallest girl in the class. Skinny for my height, but all I knew was that I was “bigger”.

My sister used to beat me up until one day… my father looked at me and pointedly asked, “Suzanna? Why are you crying? Who is bigger? You or Reb?” A light bulb went on over my head. Yes, I was bigger than my older sister. Yes, I was bigger than most of the people in my class, but I didn’t want to be the big girl, even if it meant Reb couldn’t beat me up anymore. I wanted to wear tiny clothes and look dainty and petite, not like a young giraffe lumbering around learning to tap dance.

I can remember sitting in class in the 5th grade, purposefully sitting on the front edge of my little plastic chair so my thighs wouldn’t spread out and look larger. FIFTH grade people. That is a little early to be either that vain or that neurotic.

The summer after 6th grade I was guilty of runnin around in some irradiated fertilizer or maybe it was just my time, but a growth spurt took me by force. I grew a little over 5 inches during the summer months. Yes, just 3 months. My mother used to tease me and say that she was going to stay up at night and watch me grow. Har dee har har. All I knew was that I went from being the tallest girl in the class to looking like a stork.

At the end of 6th grade I had put on over 20 pounds. I did not know if it was because I had started my period or if I was going to be one of those hefty girls my mother whispered about, but as I agonized (it was very painful physically) over the summer I figured the extra weight was just to pad my poor bones from the stretching they were taking during that awful growth spurt.

So there I was in after the growth spurt, newly coltish, but still with the mentality of a chubby girl. Yes, I had a chubby phase that lasted about 4 months before the growth spurt, but I have always felt like a fat girl with no basis for that particular self-abuse.

Was that the norm of the time?

The year was 1985. The jeans were acid wash, the music was General Public, Duran Duran and Depeche Mode, the tank tops were layered and the lipstick color of the time was Seashell Shimmer by Cover Girl. I attended 7th grade at Schemilphening Middle School in Plano, Texas. Daily I was subjected to polyester gym shorts, a tight red gym shirt and the humiliation of spelling out S-C-H-E-M-I-L-P-F-E-N-I-G while doing jumping jacks on the first row. I dreaded P.E. for the three years of middle school, preferring instead to go to dance class where my teacher called me swanlike and graceful. Being tall in ballet was not a problem… most of the time.

When we lived in Atlanta I danced with the Atlanta School of Ballet for several years. One year during the “Nutcracker” a prima ballerina was called in for a primary role, the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy. She was such a miniscule little thing that she demanded that we, her angels not dance on toe. She did not want us to tower over her.

So, on went the battle between my vanity and my neurosis. On one hand I was happy being tall. I could buy beer at the tender age of 15. On the other hand I was miserable being tall. I couldn’t wear heels to dances unless I wanted to make my date feel bad.

Note to reader: Jeeeze! I do run off at the mouth don’t I? I originally wanted to make this an entry about stress and running away when I was 13, but noooooooo… my body image takes center stage again!

I continued to grow throughout high school and college. I am really not an Amazon, I assure you. I do have both of my breasts. As a matter of fact, I have three. Just kidding. Wanted to see if you were really paying attention. Actually, I feel quite diminutive around Mister, seeing how he is Zeus-like in height (6’5”… mmm mmm mmm mmm mmmm) and general manly prowess.

My first husband made me feel like a St. Bernard with him playing the role of the Chihuahua. He was 5’6” on a tall day and actually stole my clothes to wear. I am not kidding here. Ladies, you know how sweet and protected you feel when you can slip on your man’s button down shirt and feel like you are wearing a dress because it is so big on you? Imagine that scenario backwards. The ex would pull out my t-shirts to wear, my sweats to lounge around in. If I tried to put on his clothing (like one of his shirts) I ended up looking like Baby Huey. All gut and underwear. How sexy is that? [Go ahead, click on that link… the visual is priceless.]

I actually didn’t gain my weight until I was around 23 or so. I’ve had it for about 7 years. I was actually, at my thinnest, almost 5’9” and about 122 pounds. Ick. Boney chick comin through.

I do not want to get back down to that small, I do, however, want to get back to 160 at least. I look damn good at 160.

Ok… this has turned into a “Tell me I ain’t a fat ass” entry.

I’m embarrassed about my neediness sometimes.

Speaking of, I am such a whore for accolades; I have invited one of my favorite (and closest) people in the world to share in this diary. Shout out to Debra Jean people! She is my ex-sister in law. We were best friends in college and ended up marrying (and divorcing HA!) brothers. Don’t ask. It ain’t a pretty story. Maybe I’ll let her guest entry and she can regale you with tales of hilarity!

Why don’t cannibals eat clowns? Because they taste funny.

Please be sure to tip your wait staff!

May 30, 2003

I'm gonna be a Star!

Well, this is it everyone.

Hollywood finally called. They said they were looking for someone just like ME! There is a new movie coming out that apparently I am perfect for. The movie is a sequel.

Oh hush you pessimist you. I know that sequels usually spell disaster for actors unless the producer is Spielberg or Bruckheimer, but this one promises to blow the box office and the critics away.

The movie is called I Am Sam Two: Still 禅arded. See? Perfect for me.

They found out about my talent and huge brain capacity from my boss this morning when he got to work. Apparently I, the mental giant that I am, left the front door unlocked to the office last night.

I walked out of the office in a tizzy over some hotel in Vegas and didn稚 even lock the door.

Someone should put me on a leash.

About May 2003

This page contains all entries posted to Suzanna Danna in May 2003. They are listed from oldest to newest.

April 2003 is the previous archive.

June 2003 is the next archive.

Many more can be found on the main index page or by looking through the archives.

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