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May 2009 Archives

May 4, 2009

“If you passed out and left me for dead I will keel you.”

Alright babies, I have completely been neglecting you like some gorgeous oil painting hanging in the bowels of the Louvre. You ARE gorgeous and I DO indeed love you, but I have been a little preoccupied. No excuses. Okay, a few excuses. My previous years have had a slight pattern that I could sort of count on. This year, that pattern went out the freaking window and I thought that I would have ALL of April to be all lovey dovey with you, but no (NO! I SAY!) it has not worked out that way.

Well, that and I have been avoiding you so I won’t get all talky speaky with you and give away all of my secrets (psssst, I know where Atlantis is).

So, there’s that then.

Let’s talk about how insanely addictive crack … er, I mean FaceBook is. Shall we? Holy shit y’all. Let me give you a for instance. A few weeks ago I was merrily working away (at work… redundant much?) and I got this email from FaceBook that said Dre’ would like to add you as a friend. To be honest, it actually said Andre, but I call him Dre’ because we are like this*, yo. (*finger gesture) (No, perv, not THAT finger gesture.)

I got all hyper and shit because I have been Google stalking him for eons and there he was… and the real kick in the ass was that we live not three miles from one another and have for years. So I accepted the proffered friend request and BAM! It was like it hadn’t been twenty-one years since we had spoken, but more like twenty-one minutes. Which is just about the time now between our texts, emails and phone calls. We started chatting and adding one another to our BlackBerry messengers and damn, it was like I found a missing piece.

Now we are all finishing one another sentences and comparing notes on life, work, love and happiness. It is amazing that one little program can give back so much.

A few weeks ago we all met up on a Saturday for a “cheer up Joey**” Happy Hour. And yet, it was a Saturday and not even after work and WAY more than an hour. But fuck it, that’s how we roll.

**More on you later Joey.

So Stacey puts this whole thing together, kind of last minute and we were all up for an excuse to get out anyway… so she says to meet at the bar at 7 o’clock. She had been tailgating at the Jimmy Buffet concert all day so I get a message around sixish that she is muddy and on her way, will be a few minutes late. Another message from Dre’ he is out with his wife doing the mani/pedi thing and they are taking forever… so HE’s gonna be a few minutes late. No clue what time Joey and K are supposed to get there but I figure, what the hell. And I head over to the club around 7:30.

7:45 and no one has shown up. My waitress is precious and because they don’t allow smoking indoors at ANYWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE ANYMORE! I was “holding a table” on the patio. That shit was empty. So there I was, lookin cute as shit with a little black twinset (surprise!), dark wash jeans and my Jones of NY snakeskin, berry colored, strappy, 3-inch-high cork wedged sandals. Yes, ass, this part IS important. I was looking forward to seeing Dre’ for the first time in over twenty-one years, Stacey and I were gonna get to chat, and Joey and K were coming. This was going to be awesome! I even brought a bag of four photo albums because I am a complete dork. (But you all love me anyway.)

My waitress sits down and looks at a picture of Dre’ in his awesome glam rock acid wash outfit from the last day of eighth grade. She and I strike up a conversation and we start drinking together. Shut up. She totally loved me. So around 8:30 when Dre’ and his buddy “I only date strippers” Brad show up I am one (or two doubles) and a shot in.

When Dre' hugged me it was like we had just seen each other yesterday. So awesome.

8:45 message from Stacey: “Hold me a chair!”

9:00 message from me to Stacey: “If you passed out and left me for dead I will keel you.”

9:20 Stacey shows up and then Joey and K follow shortly after… and after that “I only date strippers” Brad’s friend the “professional trainer” Charlotte shows up. She was totally a stripper… and a complete doll. She talked a million miles a minute and was a low talker.

me : [notice Charlotte’s mouth is moving rapidly, we all lean forward to hear what she is saying… look at Stacey and Dre’ for confirmation that she is speaking, they nod… strain to hear]
Charlotte : [sounds only dogs can hear with extremely animated hand gestures]
me : Honey, speak LOUDER, we are OLD and cannot hear you.
Charlotte : [sounds only dogs can hear with extremely animated hand gestures]
me : LOUDER!
Charlotte : [sounds only dogs can hear with extremely animated hand gestures]
me : I give up. [lots of nods, smiles and “uh huh!”s ]

Joey starts buying shots. I start buying shots. Somehow a picture is taken of me doing lewd things to the waitress… for every shot we get, she gets one too. I went straight past the beer when I got there and was drinking vodka and whatever else was put in front of me. We are telling stories and it is so great to have all these old and new friends together it was a bit heady.

Dre’ and I are laughing over old things that I should totally remember and stories are being doled out by the bushel. (PS… am such a whore.) Stacey is laughing so hard she is crying. It was wonderful.

And yes, we were all supplementing our alcohol intake with water.

K and I decided to go to the ladies’ room. We finish washing our hands and stand over by the Vortex hand dryers and are speaking low and pretty intensely about some private business when … (TA DA!) In walks Tami. And NO, we did not know her from Adam. She walks directly over to us and says, “How do you get an asshole out of a bar!?... Leave your husband at home!” and she laughs uproariously. She is the funniest shit she has ever heard. K and I do the polite giggle with a head nod and she grabs us and says, “Gotta lighten the mood ladies!” She physically pulls us over to the mirror, puts some lip liner one K and I, then lipstick (WAS SILVER… God.) and then puts lotion on our hands and tells us to rub it into our necks. We were so stunned (and polite… and kind of afraid of her) that we did exactly as she said. The lotion smelled like porn and… vanilla… and a stripper’s dressing room. Or something. We disentangle ourselves from Tami and walk/laugh/stumble back to the table on the patio. On the way out to the table I tell K, “We smell like sex.” We both have our hands shoved into our own faces (with matching silver lipstick, that Tami swears, “Oh GIRLS, MEN love that shit!”) laughing at our sex hands***.

***Completely different than jazz hands, I assure you.

Back at the table we are shoving our hands into peoples’ faces, “What does that smell like!?” Mixed bag on the answers… we were yelling, “SEX! Our hands smell like sex!... And strippers!” Brad looked a bit interested… Charlotte mumbled something that sounded like, “Let me smell.” We thrust our hands under her nose.

I squatted beside Dre’ to reach under the table for something. Number one. What have I told you about squatting? Not attractive. And Number two. With my ass I should have known what was coming. One second I was squatting, the next, on my ass looking up at the couple behind me laughing hysterically, “Oh honey, let us help you up!” Hi. Embarrassed much?

I finally got up, put my shoes back on. I freaking fell off my shoes. (See? I told you that the details of what I was wearing was important.) So I got my shoes back on and my ass in the chair and the silver lipstick off of K and I and then Tami showed up at the table, dragging her mortified brother behind her. The lights came on, last call was yelled and our precious waitress showed up with our tabs.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

Hi, two hundred and thirty-nine dollar tab, how YOU doin?

Joey and K threw money at me Stacey threw money at me, I had to have help with the bill because Math is my Waterloo, I wanted to make sure that the waitress was properly (overly) tipped and the whole time the only thing running through my head was, “I am in SO much Trouble!”

Indeed, I was in trouble.

But, to sum up, you will be hearing a lot more about Dre’, Joey and K in more posts to come.

Thank you for giving me my friend back FaceBook. For this one, I owe you.

May 13, 2009

Monday was my birthday and I had to put on pants.

Yesterday I got so freaking worked up and pissed about something that I opened up a Word document to start typing and (immediately got interrupted by a bajillion things and ) completely forgot what I was going to type. I was SO mad… I was mad that I was mad about not remembering what I was mad about.

Then I got in my car to go home… and of course I remembered. [eyeroll]

My right boob totally broke another bra. This is the third one. She broke the underwire again. I leaned over to get a binder for a conference and “SNAP”… Oh, fucking hell.

For those of you new to playing the home game this isn’t the first time my boob has decided to conspire against me. Nay. She is wrathful and gleefully destructive. DAMN YOU RIGHT BOOB!

In other news, this past weekend was packed full tilt with things to do and places to go and people to see. We started off with Friday… okay, wait, skip Friday. Let’s pick this shit up from Saturday. Saturday we mixed my birthday, my sister’s birthday (we normally do pedicures and dinner for each other) and mother’s day all in one shot and took the Moms to a spa for a mini massage, a foot wrap and lunch. My cousin came in from Georgia. We had my nephew’s 8th birthday party then headed downtown to Club Dada for the Ultra Violet Rock for CF show. It was quite a busy day but it was awesome.

The mini-spa was a huge hit with Momma and we all had a great time and getting to see my cousin has also been extremely awesome. My nephew’s party was fun and the number of bands that showed up for the Ultra Violet Show downtown was insane. Artists donated everything from photographs to oil paintings to cakes and jewelry. We came home with the most beautiful picture from Ange Fitzgerald (called SmokeBreak) that I am so completely and madly in love with. It is framed beautifully and the concrete has this metallic patina to it. It’s so beautiful. (ps.. if you know me on FB, there is a picture of me with the (FABULOUS) artist on my page.)

Sunday we all went to P.F. Chang’s and sat at the chef’s table in the kitchen as a family for my birthday dinner. Lovely food, lovely company and the most thoughtful gifts from my family. My niece and nephew gave me a gift card to a book store and a new book and my mother busted out this familiar looking (old school style) Neiman Marcus jewelry box. It was a necklace that was previously my grandmother’s and it is gorgeous. My mother (I don’t believe) has ever worn it and I have rifled through her jewelry drawer enough times, I should have seen this particular piece years ago, but to be honest, if my mother had searched for a more perfect necklace, it wouldn’t have matched up. My grandmother’s style was impeccable and I absolutely love this piece.

Consequently, I wore it yesterday to the office, trying to send a picture to my dear friend Miss Meg and I only got a few blurry cleavage shots, so I gave up. Will get a picture soon and post it.

Monday was my birthday and I had to put on pants.

I worked from home and had to leave for an appointment* pretty early but my cousin and Mister (he took off Mon-Wed of work to hang with my cousin) slept late and then we all just kind of hung out. We watched movies, we rocked the Rock Band 2 and we drank. It was a perfect birthday if ever I had one. Mister left for a little bit in the afternoon and came back with his hair cut all handsome-like and he handed me a card and a gift certificate to my favorite spa place.

ROCK.

He also told me that I could get some piercings that I have been wanting. To be honest, I have wanted to get my nose pierced for quite a while, but my mother flipped her shit when I mentioned it in passing. “That is DISGUSTING! Oh SUSAN! How COULD YOU!?” Like I had just kicked a puppy, flashed a nursing home, ran with scissors, sat thisclose to the TV and then set fire to a needlepoint pillow that my great aunt had made. So I pierced the tragus on both ears last night. Heh.

Little does she know that if I had my way I would have full sleeves and some multicolored hair, No, no… NOT like the strawberry blonde debacle of aught two. Also, shut up.

I am on trays 8 of 9 for the bottom and 11 for the top. Invisalign… DING!

*Alright. Time for full disclosure here. Monday marked my one month and a week anniversary of going to therapy. Mister and I have been going through a rocky patch for a little over a year and a half and we needed help. Fuck, I needed help. I didn’t know if I was/am going through a midlife crisis or I was/am just a big bucket of especially spicy crazy but this has been extremely rough going. Before my life with Mister I was aware that reality was not all glitter and rainbow humping unicorns, but damn if it didn’t feel like perfection when we were dating, courting and then throughout the first few years of our marriage.

So, there’s that then.

I feel like last Monday we turned a corner in our relationship, in a good way, and God willin’ and the creek don’t rise, we’ll be back to our rainbow humping unicorns soon.

Also… I am just about to embark on my crazy travel schedule and I will post when I can. But please, leave comments if you feel compelled to do so, or send emails. I cherish each one like it is my own little pearl.

On my way to San Antonio I met Kinky Freidman at the Chili’s inside Love Field in Dallas. He was extremely polite and very gentlemanly. I took a covert picture. Check it.

Kinky%204-30-09.jpg

I am not a huge political animal, so his politics are really of no consequence to me, but his writing style is genius in my opinion and so I told him so. He stood and tipped his hat when I introduced myself and was very nice and extremely kind when I gushed all over myself about his turn of a phrase. I went all fangirl on him but he was so kind. And when I left, I slid my card on the table, told him, “It was very nice to meet you Mr. Friedman.” And he replied, “Thank you Susan, very nice to meet you too.” And he put my card in his wallet. (!)

If you are reading this Mr. Friedman… I love you, call me. Also, thank you for remembering my name.

A few weeks ago someone sent an email (seriously, love the comments and emails) telling me that I was a massive cock tease leaving things like I did…

“I have this list of shit to discuss with y’all… but I think I will cover one more thing and then wrap it up, because… I want to continue the whole Shelby and Tom series without turning into one of THOSE journals, but I kind of want to go there once, you know? I also want to talk to y’all about this weird deal that happens in my office when I wear anything slightly different than my normal black pants, black shoes, top (adult geranimals) bullshit. ….
So I want to talk to you guys about that. I also have been reflecting and want to reword some of the things I said about one person in particular. Oh hell, I just want to apologize. I was wrong. We’ll talk about it later.”

So to give some closure…

#1) I will “go there” with the whole Shelby and Tom thing. Once. And I need some guidance. A little help with my soft core porn here?

#2) I had on a nice cranberry swing jacket and matching shell the other day with my illegal black britches (they do wonders for the shelf butt) and heels… anytime I stray from loafers, knit pants from Land’s End and a twinset I get asked multiple times by this woman, “Why are you all dressed up? Where are you goin? What’s the special occasion?” Look lady, just because I refuse to wear a sweater with a picture of fucking Pooh-Bear on it, does not mean the world is coming to an end. I normally end up answering, “Your mamma.” Which makes no sense, but it shuts her up. What the hell is up with that? One day I wore a fabulous black wrap dress from Igigi and I thought her head was going to explode.

Guess who was the first to notice my piercings this morning? Yes. HER. “What did you go and do THAT for?!” And then I punched her in the vagina**.

**not really.

#3) Okay. This one is a little tougher. I shouldn’t have opened my gaping maw in the first damn place. But here goes. The reflecting and rewording part… I have, in these many, many, many pages talked about a gentleman named Kim, my old lover from Omaha. (Yes, I do see the recognition light bulb going off over some of your heads… and the others of you, yes, I see you heading towards the search bar. Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

Anyway, I really don’t want to reword so much as sort of explain. I have been all over the place concerning Kim. I just want to tell you guys some truthful shit here. We had an on again off again on again love affair for a pretty long stretch of time. He was kind to me and there is no getting around that. I have been less than kind with my words about him and even if he never reads this I want to be straight with you, dear readers.

We were lovers and friends and when it looked as if things may go further than I was comfortable with at the time, I pushed and forced and was mean and shooed him back to Omaha to be with his exwife and his sons. We haven’t talked in over six years and when we reconnected on FB, he was so kind and gentle I couldn’t keep up the whole charade of “his education wasn’t high enough”, “he worked at XYZ” or any of that because when it came down to it. It really didn’t matter. I was scared. And I have been less than forgiving in my descriptions of him, which really, is not cool. It was/is my problem, not his.

He’s still kind, he is still generous and he is still a very good friend even after all of these years and all of the mean words that passed between us. Even if we don’t talk (another one of my issues) then I wanted to clear the air, here, in my virtual head space to let you know that he was a gentleman, he was very loving, he was gentle and sweet and he never did anything to deserve the kind of treatment I gave him. Yes, it ended up nicely with him back with his exwife and raising his sons. But that is beside the point. He was never unkind or stooped to my level, and for that, I applaud him and utterly apologize for my behavior and words.

There***.

***Shut up… it wasn’t vague. Look, the next time we meet up for beers, you and I? I’ll tell you the whole story.

About May 2009

This page contains all entries posted to Suzanna Danna in May 2009. They are listed from oldest to newest.

April 2009 is the previous archive.

June 2009 is the next archive.

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

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