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September 2, 2011

Passive Aggressive Shoots, it SCORES!

Few things on this glorious Friday afternoon.

Thing the first. I am so excited that next week I will be taking off the 6th through the 9th and I may not do a DAMN thing. SUCK IT people who have to accomplish many worthwhile things while on vacation. This is MY staycation and I am gonna try to win a freaking medal (or at least honorary mention) in Sloth. I am going to sleep late, I am going to go to bed at indecent hours, I am going to drink, I am going to smoke, I am going to curse. I may even dance a little. I may have some sex*. I may even practice being passive aggressive**.

* depends on how ** I am.

I’ve been working on that last one lately and I have to tell you, I am pretty good at it. I mean, I thought for the longest time that it really wasn’t my “thing”, yanno? But, here I am, just a few months (OMG a little over 9 months) shy of my 40th birthday, and let me tell you something I have really surprised myself.

Take a for instance… okay? So, I ask a boy to come to my parents’ house for the long weekend. I’ve known him for a while, he knows my parents, he went to a wedding with me … danced with my momma (OMG) and so… shoe in… right? I mean. After seeing him all being sweet to my momma I had to make him my boyfriend or something.

Few things. This is the same dude that fell asleep with his finger inside my vagina. And he has … other… responsibilities and shit. No, you cheeky little monkeys, he isn’t married (never has been), doesn’t have children, takes care of his family (I have SO MANY WORDS I CAN’T SAY), has a full time job, a dog… all these things.

Why yes, I am glad you asked. I am very pleased that he is a responsible individual who is employed and very … responsible. He does sometimes mention that he wants more… more… something. More of a relationship. I think he just doesn’t want me to fuck other people… either that or he really enjoys my company.

So after he danced with my momma (and didn’t run away after I fucked*** (mumble mumble mumble)) I was all “Ok, so, you’re my boyfriend now.” “I am? Am I?” “Eh… well, you don’t have to be, I can take it back.” “No no no no no no… no… it’s good, I like it.”

Because I am motherfucking SMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTH.

***WHAT? Yeah, I told him. I’m honest. I may be a slut, but I’m an honest one.

So, the dog. Let’s just say that in (length of time that may include the word “a fucking YEAR”) the time period that we’ve been seeing each other he’s stayed over … oh, maybe 5 or 6 times. “But Susan, WHY!?” you ask me with your brow all furrowed up and cute that way. Yes, you are… you are precious. And your ass looks fabulous today.

So I answer you, “Well, because yes, of course we are having plenty of intercourse and he only fell asleep during some type of coitus once… but he needs to be home by 2 am-ish so that he may take care of his canine companion.” “But SUSAN” you say, “With all of your charms, wouldn’t he want to stay over and sample your ample and lovely wares throughout the evening, the night and maybe in the morning time for some sweet, sweet love? After all, he doesn’t have a wife and kids to worry about, right?” I may pat you on the head for being so adorable but I will cup my right elbow in my left hand, my right hand in a thoughtful pose under my chin… shaking my head in a sad and ironic way (JUST LIKE ALANIS) and I will tell you. “Oh, you sweet, sweet thing. Here, let me show you the way this rolls…” then I will throw gang signs and yell “YEAH BOI!” and hand you my blackberry.

Textual Intercourse.

CuteBoy: (lots of information about his 3 year dog who either ate something or scratched his throat and CB took him to the vet, vet found nothing wrong with dog, gave dog (who coughed up blood) a steroid shot and an antibiotic… dog is happy… CB is a freaking wreck)
Me: (gives CB many outs (over hours and hours and even like a day) for the weekend with family at parents house on the lake… WITH LOTS OF BOOZE)
CuteBoy: (finally takes the out)
Me: (rolls eyes)
CuteBoy: I mean I’m just so worried freaked out that (blah blah blah… I stop reading)
Me: I understand, I really do. (Which I do.. Shut up, I totally do.)
CuteBoy: It’s just that if this happens again (family members whom he is also taking care of) won’t be able to handle it if I am gone.
Me: I understand.
Me: Look man, I get it, I really do. He is your furry child and you worry and that’s fine. I just wanted to let you know I am feeling a little passive aggressive about the whole situation and apologize for it.
Me: Step back for a moment if you can and really look at the situation from my perspective and my outlook on where I stand priority wise.
CuteBoy: I know, that is why I am trying to work on (MORE WORDS ABOUT DOG)
Me: And please take this with the intent in which I mean it (sweetly). He was there before me, and he’ll be there long after I’m gone. I understand that he’s more of a priority than I am. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’ve never been #1… not with you, not with anyone. And I’ve been freaking married… TWICE… so that’s MY issue, not for you to fix. So when I say I understand about (DOG) I really do, OK? This also goes for your mom, your sister(s), nephews, job, pool, car, house, yard work, friends and workouts, I get it.
CuteBoy: Please stop that…
Me: Alright.
CuteBoy: I know you understand, but know you mean way more to me than most of that above.
Me: (13 minutes of silence with open jaw) I appreciate the sentiment.

40 minutes later:
Me: Just an aside. I would have left out the word “most” up there because I’m over here all “oooh, hopefully I rank above the pool… Oh! Or the yard? The car!?! (hopeful face, fingers crossed!)"
CuteBoy: Awwwww fuck me with a chainsaw….

See? Was the passive aggressiveness palatable? Could you taste the sarcasm? Smell the shock and AWE motherfuckers?

So, there’s that then.

September 23, 2011

Happy Birthday Kerry!

So we (and by we, I mean Steph, Stacey and I) took Kerry out to dinner last night to celebrate her OMG HOLY CRAP SHE’S TURNING THE BIG 4-0 TODAY, RIGHT NOW! As in SHE CAME OUT OF HER MOTHER’S WOMB (she’s gonna kill me) FORTY YEARS AGO ON THIS VERY DATE! IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD, 1971.

There were no strippers, no all girl fight club, no circle of validation, it was just a normal night out on the town for four ladies. ONE WHO HAPPENS TO HAVE JUST ENTERED INTO THE REALM OF ALL THAT IS FORTY! Well, it was us and a very odd little man. Let’s call him Eli, as that was his name.

And Eli was his name-o. Hey OH!

No. I will not apologize for getting “Old McDonald” stuck in your head.

So, we went to a fondue place that sounds a lot like “The Melting Pot”… because that was its name. We figured we’d have a nice leisurely dinner of boiling our food. And get caught up gossip wise and tell stories and… try to assuage Kerry that NO, nothing weird is going to happen. No, we had NOT… I repeat NOT… hired Randy the Master Blaster to come and gyrate on her lap with his 50+ (60+?) year old balls trying to escape from a flimsy man-thong. We knew good and well enough to be cool about this because that lady holds a grudge worse than my sister and we are all gonna be lining up for the next age bracket, “Yeah, I’m 40. Hot right?”, soon. Stacey first, then me, then our baby Steph is last. If we would have pulled anything funny … including, but not limited to, singing Happy Birthday to her… we would all pay, and pay dearly.

(Excuse me. I need to call her and sing. Annnnnnnnd done. Yes, it was beautiful. Shut up.)

So we walked in, some lady that had been huffing glitter and had the voice of Glenda the Good was all sing-songy, “Welcome to the Melting Pot where all of your dreams will come true!!!!” (sweeping arm gesture included) I was like, “SAH-Weet! So I can finally get that large, naked, mute, Samoan massage therapist I’ve been harping on and on about?” Stacey and I met Steph and Kerry at the bar area where the latter two were having a glass of wine. Glenda the Good showed us to our table and Kerry was immediately suspicious.

I went back to the bar area to settle up the tab with Steph and it took a little longer than forever because as soon as we returned to the table Kerry was all (she was wearing a monocle and had a very bright light pointed at us… surprisingly, her Russian accent was spot on), “Vaht vere you doin-k that took so verrrry long, my little pretties?” “Dude, relax, nothing, I was just… um… making out with (enter Eli) … Eli here in the hallway.” “BullShitz, because Eli was in here… with US!” Then she threw her small cigar down and crushed it out with her patented riding boot. (Man, that lady can really work a Nazi-period pantaloon.)

We calmed her down. No singing, no balloons, no strippers, no kumbahya, no clowns (shudder), no pirates making balloon animals, no surprises… relax*, we promise it’s just dinner and a few gifts.

We had no idea how odd the evening would turn out.

*Is it just me or when someone tells you to “relax” when you are already a little agitated, you immediately picture that scene in any grocery store in the galaxy where the lady has had it up to HERE with her precious little unique snowflake of an offspring and they are having a complete meltdown. Cue snot and hiccupping sobs and the mother grabbing said wee child by their upper arms and screaming into their faces, “RELAX! JUST… (huge sigh) RE-LAX!!!... (muttered, ‘Jesus Christ’)”….? Just me? O-KAAAAAAAAAAY then.

So Eli is taking drink orders and is completely flustered by our lack of concern for his spiel. He had told me in the hallway that he knew me and was glad I was back. I just assumed (yeah, yeah) that he was one of the many waiters that used to serve Mister and I back in the day. We had a special section and everything… whatever. I told Eli, it was good to see him again... they all look alike, I swear, and he was even like “You’re the one with the turtle joke.” And I was like “Uh, yeah… I mean, who isn’t? Am I right?” (high five) Whatever. Because, Yes, I am that person.

So he was like pointing around the table, “Wine, wine, wine and… Voss sparkling water over there for my special friend… correct?” Kerry,“Whatever.” (with an eyebrow raise in my direction) Me, Steph and Stacey, “Um, yes.” And he disappeared.

Kerry: What the fuck is all that about? I call bullshit.
Me: Um, seriously, I have no idea.
Stacey: :snort:
Steph: What?
Kerry: You do not know that guy.
Me: You are probably right. I mean, I have been here quite a bit but… the last time I was here was with Paul, so… um…
Kerry: You totally don’t know that guy.
Steph: That would have been a LONG time ago.
Stacey: No kidding.
Me: But, in all honesty, the turtle joke IS mine… so… I don’t know.
Steph: Which turtle joke?
Me: There are so many….

And Eli returns with more info on the spiel.

Kerry: :cough:Bullshit:cough:
Me: Um, Eli? I haven’t been here in quite a long time; I really don’t think I am who you think I am. What I mean is… I don’t believe we’ve met.
Eli: Of course we have. You’re unforgettable. And the turtle joke (private laughter, for himself… as I guess… it was private).
Me: Eli, then you’ve been here for what?... Two? Four years?
Eli: Oh, um… no… two and a half months.
Me: Yeah, no… definitely no. Not who you think I am. We don’t know one another.
Eli: You MUST have come in with another girlfriend or something.
Me: Um, no.
Eli: But…
Me: Can we move along? Spiel?
Eli: Okay, so the special “Big Evening Out”….. (waiter speak)
Kerry: Liar.
Me: Shut up.
Stacey: Heh.
Steph: What turtle joke?

Eli departs and Kerry opens her gifts, and then gives US party favors because she’s just like that, yo. She hands something to Steph and says, “To keep you from, you know…. On your trip…” Stacey is like, “What?”

Kerry: You haven’t heard about this?
Me: Oh, shit.
Stacey: Nope.
Steph: :giggle:
Kerry: Well, so Susan and I were talking the other night about Steph and all that she juggles and how brilliant she is, and how gracefully she handles everything,
Me: About how things can be falling all around and total chaos but it’s like she rises above it and has this calm… like…. If you put a stethoscope to her temple you’d hear something like Canon in D major or… la la la la la la la la laaaaaa (smurf theme)
Stacey: Is that the theme from the Smurfs?
Kerry: Yes…. but me being the pessimist that I am I was like, ‘nothing can be that perfect… I bet she’s secretly a cutter’…
Me: So I was like, yeah, but if she is, she’s just cutting a little under her left breast, where no one would ever see… with a perfect little ritual and a tee tiny little blade that’s been, bedazzled or something
Stacey: Y’all are awful…
Kerry: It was never meant to be mean… because we were discussing her brilliance…
Steph: :giggle:
Steph: :giggle:
Stacey: :gasp:
Kerry: It wasn’t like that… I told her how we thought she was amazing…
Me: And Steph punked me SO hard.
Stacey: What did she do?
Me: One night I got this text from Steph “Y’all caught me! Good thing too, as I was just sharpening my Exacto knife!”
Steph: Hah ha ahahahahahaaaaa heeeee
Stacey: Oh, My… God.
Me: I know, right!? I was mortified, I had NO clue how Kerry had presented it to Steph and I would have HATED more than anything to hurt her feelings….
Kerry: Sue was freaking so hard, she kicked me out of the vault club!
Me: The next morning freaking Steph punks me again, “La la la la la la!!! Have a Smurfy Day! I’m off to work!”
Stacey: …. Holy shit.
Steph: heeeee!
Me: I know… right? Jesus. So I pulled my balls out of my purse and called her that evening and rambled on and on … on her voicemail no less… about … everything, I may have admitted to being the 2nd man on the grassy knoll. … whatever… I felt awful, and clearly she had taken it with the intention it was meant… but she punked me HARD. Put me RIGHT in my place.

Eli returned cheerfully, “So how are my favorite girls?” Kerry tried to kill him with a glare. It didn’t even slow him down. “Do you know what you want for starters, birthday girl?” (GLARE) Heh.

He would interrupt every conversation, every bought of laughter, even ordering was weird.

Eli: So we’ll just start with our resident expert over there…
Me: Ok, so for our cheese fondues we’ll have…
Eli: OMG, that is gorgeous turquoise…
Me: :blank stare:
Stacey: Your necklace.
Eli: What would you call that?
Me: A pendant, a medallion… um, 12 dollars from Torrid?
Stacey: Heh.
Kerry: (Glare of death)
Steph: (sips wine… eyes darting left and right)
Me: Ok, so for our cheese fondues we’ll have…
Eli: Are you sure, the blah blah blah Ginger… with the Big Night Out….
Me: …. for our cheese fondues we’ll have…
Eli: I mean really, for the price it is your best bet and with the coupon…
Me: …. for our cheese fondues we’ll have…
Eli: Ok…. And your salads, and entrees?
Me: (orders for whole table)
Eli: Fabulous choices. I knew I could count on you to pick the best. (he departs)
Me: Is he gone?
Stacey: Yeah.
Me: Holy shit. I mean… wow. Sorry. And did he just queen out on us?
Kerry: Nelly…
Me: Huh?

The evening went on like that for hours. We would be laughing and joking and enjoying our cheese and he’d come in and freaking spill Kerry’s wine all over Steph. Steph… not stabbing him with her little fondue fork… was gracious about it. And then he’d jump into an already rousing laughter from the four of us with a “HA HA HA HA! I know! Me too!” Then he’d try to assert his manliness, “The last time you saw me I must have had that FULL BEARD.” (in my head… Like Katie Holmes?) Or “Hah, yeah, I know… If I would have tried to shush my ex fiancé she wouldn’t be having ANY of that!” (in my head… where are the three snaps in Z formation?)

We of course had a blast. We always do with the four of us get together. It was just a very strange evening. After the checks were paid and we were all walking out, I SWEAR he tried to follow us downstairs to the cars. It was strange, “Y’all come back and when you do… you’d BETTER ask for ME!” Once downstairs, “Like hell I will.” From Stacey and “Fuck, how much did you guys tip him!? He tried to come home with us!” From Kerry.

So Happy Birthday to my dear friend Kerry. May this year be the best and the next 40 even better. I love you!

About September 2011

This page contains all entries posted to Suzanna Danna in September 2011. They are listed from oldest to newest.

August 2011 is the previous archive.

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