A rose by any other name.... is probably a cheap ass carnation that your date bought for you at Kroger just before he picked you up for prom because he thinks he may get lucky.
Okay. Heres the deal my babies. I have been working at this here worky place for nigh on four years. Well, I am at about 3 and a half years. There is this very nice man who works in shipping. Sweet, funny, very polite and never goes a day without greeting me.
The issue is that today I was Sandra. Yesterday I was Saundra, the day before that Shannon, the day before that Suzanne and the day before that Sarah.
The worst kept secret on these here internets pages is that my real name is Susan.
If you are new, hi by the way, my name is Susan.
In three and a half years the man has called me Susan... once. And that was only because he had a package to deliver to me. That had my name on it. Like twelve times. In huge letters on the side of the box like FRAGILE (Fra-Geeee-Lay) in A Christmas Story.
The package delivery? Oh, about a year and a half ago. Not that I mind being Sabrina, Sasha, Sade, Sage, Samantha, Savannah, Scarlett, Selma, September, Serena, Shaeleigh, Shaine, Shana, Sharon, Shay, Sheila, Shelby, Shelly, Shoshana, Sierra, Sigourney, Simone, Skyler, Sloane, Sonia, Sophia, Stacey, Stella, Stephanie, Summer, Sybil, Sydney or Sylvia... but dont yall think that this man is bound to run out of S names before he retires or I get fired for something?
Speaking of names. My parents came in this weekend for a double header. 1) My birthday* dinner at the Melting Pot Saturday night and 2) My nieces birthday party yesterday.
*My birthday is on the 11th. I like buckets of money, jewelry, hair, face, cosmetic and skin products, long sleeved shirts that look like tattoos and Marlboro Light 100s in a box.**
**What?***
***Shut up****.
****Holy fuck, I am going to be 35.
When we all met for dinner my sister gave me a present that turned out to be a book from the children by Augusten Burroughs called Side Effects. May I remind you that when I read his previous book (Running With Scissors - that my sister also loaned me) I went on a rant about the chapter called Masterbatorium? A gift from the children indeed. You should be ashamed of yourself.
Yall know how I like to use shock value on my mother just for spite... and also because she asks a lot of questions? My sister does the same thing to me. But she is passive aggressive enough to use literature. Awesome.
My parents handed over a beautifully wrapped box that I slipped the card from under the ribbon and went to open it. My mother said, No, wait... open the present first! So I did and they had picked out the cutest sweater/shirt combo thing. So when I opened the card and it said, Were proud of you Suzanna Danna! My heart almost burst out of my chest until I realized. Oh, wait, these are the people who gave me that name.
Yall. I totally though that I was being journal-outted to my parents on my (ALMOST... remember, you have 11 buying days left) birthday. How bad would that have sucked?
Okay, so I have had some cheese. And at dinner Saturday night I had meat. And then I got totally sick. Fantastic. Now that I want to go back to my cheese lovin ways, my body is all nay, NAY... for thou wilt not partake in the cheese or thine agony and tummy issues will be many.
Oh. I am totally going to Chicago for my birthday for a rockstar weekend with some very cool people. Mister is going with me and I will try to get him drunk and plead with him to sing some hard rock, head-bangin karaoke song in the tune of Grandpa. He does this awesome imitation of a grandpa when he is singing something from like White Snake or Led Zepplin or ... God Forefend, the Bulletboys Smooth Up In Ya! Oh, how awesome would that be? Verily I say to you, verily.