People are mean

One day I will understand why people think it's ok to tell me negative things about myself...but the second you do it to them it's World War III. I swear to God, I realize bad things about myself all the fucking time...and I truthfully do NOT need people to point out menial problems that do NOT contribute to some higher good be it for myself or others. Thank you for adhering to this policy. I have a mother that tells me I'm fat, don't go to church enough, and am horrible with money. I honestly don't need anyone elses opinion on the matter unless I ask. Thanks.

One Nite...Two Hands...Three Numbers

Yes, my friends...Susan still has it. Last night was Pub Fiction. Geez. Susan's Big Adventure in Boyland continues. Ok. So, that Weezer song that goes, "If you want to destroy my sweater [du nuh nuh nuh nuh] pull this thread as I walk away [as I walk away]". Well, Johnny B was plyaing that & of course I was singing along. This was pretty much the anthem to any high school kid in the mid nineties right? So, this guy sees me doing my best to look like 'Buddy Holly' or maybe 'Mary Tyler Moore' with my fly glasses & vintage style while singing at the top of my lungs. He comes up to me, looking like a hipster version of Napoleon Dynamite, and says, "Oh my God, it's AWESOME that you know this song!" Enter suicidal thoughts of how old I'm getting...that a dude legally got into a bar & thought this Weezer song was 'old skool' enough to say it was "awesome" that I know the words. Streaming daggers serated my heart, but I got over it.

I find it funny and also sort of love it that the only boys in the bar that seek me out are the indie kids. It's funny how they stick together...all so insecure in there Value Village, popped collar, urban flair. Not too far from my own self. There were three of them. Napoleon aka Pat, Jared Leto aka Matt, and Offspring aka Jon (now he's getting a tattoo, yeah, he's getting ink done/he asked for a 13 but they drew a 31). Nap loved me from Weezer...Offspring pretty much likes any girl that would talk to him, but Jared....Jared was a little tougher sell. Jared judged. He was teetering on liking me when I told them they weren't typical Pub clientele...they should probably be at Poison Girl.

"How did you know we came from Poison Girl???"
"Didn't, but I know your type....Judging Jared!"
"Wicked"

He REALLY thought I was the shit after I called him on liking Coldplay when he's feeling a bit more 'commercial'. After that we were cool. We chatted about both being at the OkGo concert at the Meridian, and the funny dance they do. He, of course, is in acting school in Chicago and I'm sure he turned 21 last week or something. Anywho, I ended up with his number in my pocket...Napoleons in my left hand & Offsprings on my right.

I'd say that was a good use of $30.

Revelations on a Treadmill

So, I've thought about writing children's books for quite some time. Here are some titles I've been tossing around in my head & thought about at the gym this morning (they all have something to do with Frank, as I feel cute, cuddly animals are a must in children's fairy stories):

Frank 'n Stein
(Does Daddy have a Drinking Problem?)

A Tail of Two Cities
(Mommy, who are these ladies that keep calling Daddy from London & Paris?)

Frank & Frank's ability
(Not that funny, but I had to add a Jane Austen knock off)

I feel like these are all viable stories. I'll work on Frank 'n Stein tonight & see if I can come up with a good story board to share.

The man of my dreams drives a Murano

And I stole a glimpse of him at 6am this morning. He drove past me at the gym blaring "I'd die without you..." the song sung as a round in RENT. So, he was driving this Murano wearing this adorable beenie. He didn't look gay, but I'm the WORST person in the world for deciphering sexual preference. I bet his name if Mark Cohen, he's Jewish, wears a blue & white scarf and glasses. Isn't fantasizing fun? We'd chat about our anti-consumerism views & how Walmart is the downfall of Western civilization while we sip free trade coffee. Then I'd say something dirty & we'd have to run home for a little fun in Santa's sack. For Christmas we travel instead of exchange presents. This year is New York...but not until New Years...Neither of us have been silly enough to go to Times Square for the ball drop, but this year we're casting aside our pretensious pretensions, paying 100 bux per ticket & counting down the new year with all the other tourists. Back at the hotel, we'll fight about him using my towel...I hate that. But never fear, we make up...again & again & again.

[phone rings in real life. Susan realizes this is truly all a day dream. that warm deceitful feeling cools to something humdrum & ordinary. She smiles, 'Hope Springs Eternal' ]

Guys Leave the Cologne at Home When You Go to the Gym

I saw two awesome movies this Thanksgiving holiday. Why the hell do I always feel the need to write about movies on this thing? Anywho. The ones I saw were the completely obvious choices for me...Pride & Prejudice and RENT. Keira Knightley does a fantabulous job as Elizabeth Bennett. My sisters and I were saying all the lines left out of the modestly timed 2 hour version of P&P...It was quite amusing. Oh & Keira looks like a 12 yr old boy throughout the whole movie. I have NEVER seen a girl THAT flat chested. I would donate the the KKBF (Keira Knightley Boob Fund) if I could...Poor girl.

Then there was RENT. I don't even know what to say. Apparently, if you are a RENT fanatic you might could think that the movie isn't exactly like the Broadway show...and I'm sure it is not. However, the message was not lost on me. The power chords draw you in and manipulate you quite nicely. I LOVE all the characters. And afterwards my sister & I decided to move to New York and get weird friends. These two teenagers were on a date to this movie & made fun of it the whole time. I realize there is always going to be an element of cheese with any Broadway show, but seriously, it saddens me to think that people can't get past the "Will You Light My Candle?" scene and realize that we're acually talking about some pretty heavy issues here...Drugs...the hiv...but most importantly, loving people...because they are people...that aren't terrorist or satan worshipers...they're just people living life as best they know how. And if I can just stand a little higher on my soap box for a second. I don't want ANYONE to say something about all the AIDS in the movie. Cause, quite honestly, that could be almost anyone I know. It could be me...or my best friend...or my boss...Just because you aren't gay & don't shoot up doesn't not mean you are above people with AIDS. And I'm sick and tired of people being discriminated against bc of that. [Susan steps off box and reverts to overly passive Susan] Anywho, I love it and want to live that way...just loving people bc they are.

Later Peeps.

I've got nothin

Today has been a bad day. I cried those true tears. You know, the ones that come out even when your forehead isn't wrinkled up and you're trying your damnedest to keep them in. However, I have found that if you just let them out, don't hold back and release...you don't get the puffy red nose and eyes as badly.

Anywho, I fucked up. Over & over & over again...So, I deserve to feel shitty.

I realized today that I'm getting old. In the car on the way back from lunch, a friend was playing some jams on his MP3 player. They were all 90's songs. And I actually said, "Why is it all the best music from my life was made in the 90's?" A split second after that statement, I flashed forward 20 years. Me in my mary janes with knee high stockings and a plaid skirt, trying to look like Alicia Silverstone & my man dressed like a wannabe Eddie Vedder at the Pearl Jam Reunion Tour. I can't believe this...I'm actually getting older. I feel like I need to buckle down & do something...This feeling is totally overidden by the overwhelming desire to go the Chili's house & take up Hydro.

So, enough DoomsDay shit. It could be worse. I could be completely unemployed, pregnant, chemically scarred face, one tit & hepatitis C. So, I guess things aren't all bad...

So, this was the wrong week to go on a diet & cut out social/stress smoking...

the We's & What Not's

So, my girlfriend just wrote me an email with that line in there somewhere. It stuck out to me. It's kind of hard to go from a title to post. Much easier to figure out the title after the post is written or during...but I just loved this one so much I thought I'd go the other way for once.

I love celebrity gossip. I know...it's horrible & ridiculous. And I also love Jake Gyllenhaal. I wish he was my 'we' & I'd show him 'what not' all night long. Of course, I'd probably end up with lock jaw the next day & that hurts worse than looking to long at a picture of Kevin Federline.

I've finally met someone with a bigger head than me. He's new here. HUGE head...huger than huge. I bet he has to buy two hats at the store & get them sewn together to fit that jug. Anywho, 'we' could start a 'huge head club' or 'what not'.

I love how self sacrificing my posts aren't. I kinda feel like a total egotistical twat writing all these things about myself. So, I'm not even that good at it...ok, who am I kidding...this is damn good stuff. 'We' must not be self depricating and 'what not' it's not becoming of a self absorbed blogger.

Did you know British people say twat rhymes with mat...instead of twat rhymes with lot? I love it. I'm totally stealing that from the Brits.

Chat Noir

I was reading thru some old posts like any self absorbed psuedo writer would do, and I thought to myself..."Self--you've never written about the love of your life...Frank the cat." So, then I was guilt stricken like a Jew the day before Yom Kippur. Frank is pretty bad ass. You know in my living room I have those big windows that look out on the Tavern. Well, Frank the fantastical feline was sitting on the window sill like any good house kitten. Then he thought it would be fun to jump up and with his two front paws grab onto the ledge where you would unlock the window and hang there flailing around. I suppose a truly good mother would have gotten off the couch & rescued her poor kitten, but I just laughed hysterially & let him figure it out. I was so hoping some drunk mofo watching the Astro's game at the Tavern would look up & see Frank the fantastical feline dangling two stories above ground. He's such a great cat.

"The Deomocratic Party is Altruistic"

God love Howard Dean, bc I don't know how it's humanly possible to align oneself with such an arrogant, pompous wind bag. He said that on This Week with the Snuffaloupogus guy. I would be ok with it if he said he thought the party was altruistic or if his belief is that the party was more altruistic than the repubs, but no. Pretty much he's saying he, Bill Clinton, and all the other donkies are on the same level as Mother Teresa (an Albanian of note). What a tard muffin. This is why I remain a-political. There are way to many imbisiles on every side of politics. So, why not vote for Kinky for governor?

On a happier note. I met Jamie Cullum this weekend on CBS News Sunday Morning. I love that show. If you're into nuevo-jazz you'll love him. I love him. www.jamiecullum.com

Later peeps.

Holding My Crucifix High

XLVII
HEART, we will forget him!
You and I, to-night!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you’re lagging,
I may remember him!

I'm done with Vampire Vic. Anywho, I've heard the guys of literary persuasion love Emily Dickinson. She was brilliant yet nonthreathening. I had an English professor in college tell everyone in the class that he was afraid of me. I was totally startled by this. So, naturally, I asked why. He said, I was always thinking...always analyzing every word everyone spoke...and that was frightening. Then he told the class to beware of me. They looked confused. He went on the give me an A++ on the in class essay I wrote about Catcher in the Rye. That's beside the point. So, I guess that explains things in life...

Condoms, a Cosmo & Chrisianity?

So, ok...right when you're about to loose all faith in mankind, right when you're sitting at your desk welling with tears bc of a stupid Coldplay song, right when you think no one really loves you (except your parents) some lady at work comes up to you...knowing you're beyond broke...and gives you $0.55 to get a candybar out of the machine in the dirty old breakroom. It's totally moments even as little as these that allow you the glimpse of God embodied in people.

I know I've been having all these revelation recently...probably most people have already thought these simple thoughts, but they were new & precious to me. I rememeber in high school our pastors would have these Sundays when you're supposed to bring a friend to church with you. I never did it, bc I hated church. No unchurched person would want to be there if someone who actually believe what was coming out of the pastors mouth didn't want to be there. Honestly, I don't disagree with this method, but it wasn't fitting for me. I just think that when you really love your church, love going, love the people, you want others to come with you. And this is the most amazing feeling to me. I want to share the 'experience' with people. Furthermore, I want to share it with people that don't go to church...simply bc it's cool. Whether or not that's right or wrong of me to think that way, I'll actually invite people to come with...instead of being 'forced' to by some heirarchy. And even if you don't believe what Chris says from the makeshift stage, you'll probably love it...simply bc you can't deny the visceral yet ethereal power or realism you feel there.

Tears stream down your face
When you loose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I....

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.

-Coldplay "Fix You"

Nihilo

Who said I don't remember anything from high school Latin?

So, this one time I was talking on my cell phone during work to J. My hair was actually down that day, and I had my elbow resting on the desk holding my phone to my ear with my head down as to avoid persecution for being on the cell phone on the clock. I was wearing my contacts that day...so my eyes were irritated and red. Enter Hottie Boss Man. "Hey, Cornholio...Oh my god...are you crying?!?!" Avoiding the question and covering my phone more with my hair...I just look up at him and utter, "I'll be alright...don't worry about me...it's ok...really." I lower my head. HBM says, "Ok...S...Let me know if I can do anything." HBM exits to a meeting behind closed doors and I laugh hysterically at my successful charade! I'm bad people.

The moral of this story is...whenever a man thinks you are or have been crying...PLAY IT UP!

Do you ever...

meet someone...like them after a while...and decide to make a list of all the things you don't like about them as a preemptive stike against heart break? I do. Seeing as how I feel I have about a 1 in 3 billion chance of happiness with any guy I date. I wouldn't buy that lotto ticket. Well, maybe it would be more like 1 in 500,000,000 after you factor out the gays, marrieds & underageds. I remember when the world was a big blue ball of bliss...hope was not something people got from Paxil...love was something I was sure to have one day. I should turn off this Coldplay cd. Lonely.......................................................................................

All the World is a Stage

Thank GOD all the men & women are NOT modern actors. I'm standing in this small theater...or should I say teatro, my jaw to the floor & my eyes two full moons smashed into my skull. [Enter Vampire Vic] "Maybe you could pretend like you know what's going on...I'm going to hear about this later." In that 'I'm about drive back to Houston this very instant' voice, I respond, "Don't tell ME how to act!" I can't help it that actors are freaks, and I was forced to watch them 'warm up' for their show by clodding around the stage one time acting like chimpanzes one time acting like unicorns. Then the stretching. "Why do they have to stretch?" I innocently inquire. All I received for about 10 seconds was this 'don't question the artists' look. Then I was told of the ways of theater...how one must be completely attuned to ones body while on stage. "Oh" I respond in typical 'I'm NOT impressed' Susan style. I was kind of pissed for being told how to act...but that's because it's that time...so I got over it. The play was really good. Vampire Vic didn't write this one, but a friend of his did. He helped with a few scenes. I was impressed.

The rest of the weekend was fabulous. We met a couple of his friends at the Angry Dog in Deep Ellum...where I got my tattoo...for lunch Saturday. They were all very artistic types...asking me if I was into film as well. I say straight up no. V.V. quickly announces that I write...in fact I just started really writing and I want to write novels. I suppose to prove to them that I in fact am artsy enough to hang. I didn't mind...anyone that wants to introduce me to their friends as a writer...I am MORE than happy with. V.V. is telling be all about his life...how he went to Booker T. for high school. That's the HSPVA of Dallas. How he's been to Spain by himself for a visit. The different plays he's written. Life at SMU. Telling the stories of the art on his walls. Mimes on a roof top. Mexican pyramids. I was in heaven. Watched the news on tv...that's it. Sat on the couch. Drank a bottle of Shiraz. And went to bed. He's always writing in his head...but he'll say whatever it is that's going on up there. I love it. I'm acutally not the freaky one. Back to bed. We're laying there and I'm running my fingers along his britsly chest. Quietly, he whispers, "You know, if some other girl was doing that exact same thing...it wouldn't feel nearly as good." Like butter on a hot stove top I melted into that sentence. Usually I try to guard myself against cheap talk, but it was just delivered so well my Venusian roots grabbed hold of my legs and wouldn't let me move. I hope there's a next time...

Another Movie & Other Randomness

A River Runs Through It is cool. God I wish I was born a long time ago. What is it that longs for this simplicity? Maybe it isn't as beautiful as it seems...in fact...I'm sure it wasn't. I'm sitting here blankly starring at my computer screen, welling up with tears. Tears for simplicity. I wish the thoughts in my head would melt into the river and be swept away by the current. Now I have that odd burning knot in my throat...I hate that. Good Lord I'm a selfish dirty bitch. I hate myself & adore myself. This is why I loved Dallas. I turned off my mind for 2 years & just lived. Didn't think about anything that meant anything. I wasn't weird or uninteresting or 'special'...I just was. I existed...no more trascendence...no more metaphysical-ness. I didn't sit in the backyard anymore & watch the dragonflies dance across the trillions of hydrogen bonds on the pools surface. It was the only time I've been allowed to do that in my whole life. I blame my parents. Old Man read me Paradise Lost as a bed time story. I affectionately referred to it as the Hell Book. I was five...come on. Yes, they ruined me. But I love it. Somethings wrong with me...

Peat Bogs

Ok. So, that man I lived with for 18 years is freaking me out about Siberia. While he still holds true to his stand that Global Warming is not a derivative of cars and carbon dioxide emissions, he is worried about the peat bogs in Western Siberia. This is my understanding of it:

So, throughout the history of the world the earth has warmed and cooled. Granted, nothing ever truly cools, it simply lacks or looses heat. Anywho, the earth ends up adjusting and we go on our merry way or something like the great flood of Noah happens when the ice caps melt. Yee freaking Haw. So back to the peat bogs. Back in the day when the world was warmer in Siberia, there grew moss & lichens...lots of it. So it froze over during the ice age perhaps and could be possibly thawing as we speak. BFD, right? Wrong. This is were I freak a little. As long as all the peat is covered with slush...it's only producing carbon dioxide. Now if the slush melts...it produces methane...tonnes and tonnes of methane. 20x's more destructive than CO2. And they're melting.

So, I say all that to say this: the ozone over Siberia will be depleated causing massive Global Warming. And you thought Houston summers sucked.

In Medias Res

So, my family was sitting around the dining room table one evening after dinner just chatting. Sometimes these conversations get uber heavy, talking about my middle sisters Calvinistic views on predestination or Dad saving the world from Global Warming, but this night was an exception. For whatever reason my youngest sister was singing that Presidents song. You know the one...you just list the presidents to a little tune starting with Washington of course. Well, I personally don't know this song, which, number one makes me feel a bit ignorant and number two makes me feel like my parents wasted a ton 'o' money on private school from Kindergarten to fifth grade when one would typically learn such songs. Anywho, my baby sis is doing outstanding all the way up to Reagan. She stops, looks at us and says unashamedly, "I always forget everyone after Reagan" [insert uproarious laughter - at her...not with her]. She only been alive for Bush-Clinton-Bush. I just love this story...maybe it was one of those 'in the moment' things that was so hilarious, but no one else would think so.

The End

Two Letters Away From Satan

I don't know where to begin with this...For a really long time I've pretty much hated spirituality. It was just too much freakin' work. But, I had somewhat of a break thru this past weekend. My mom is always trying to make me feel guilty for not being a better 'Christian'. The parents are constantly saying they've failed, since my life has waned. That's pretty difficult to hear, when your parents think they are failures because of adult decisions you have made. When, in all honesty and reality, it has not one scintilla of a thing to do with them. I've always realized that they say these things, because they want what's best for me but still hard to hear.

So, I'm almost done with this super awesome book. P.S. I hate using the word awesome...but there it is. The book is called Blue Like Jazz. I was talking to a co-worker yesterday about my little book and was kind of offended when he said, "what is this some kind of Christian theology mixed with secularism?" NO! Then I thought about it...I can TOTALLY see where someone who knows me as two letters away from Satan Susan would think that. So, I'm not offended anymore Guacamole Boy. But really it's not like that at all

I approached it with the sad, but real thought that it was going to suck. It starts out with very honest naratives of the authors childhood, but I didn't completely connect until he talked about his captivation/spiritual connection he had towards the Penguins! After that I was in love. [Refer back to previous entry entitled 'Penguins'] Then he started talking about why it was hard for him to be a Christian. He was constantly 'over-thinking' his mistakes, putting all this pressure on himslelf to be perfect, and experiencing guilt when he inevitably failed. He wrote about grace in a way I'd never really thought about it before. In fact, I'm ashamed to admit, I'd never really disected the word before. I never thought about it's true meaning. It's the single most freeing word in our language. I am insatiably curious as to how it's translated in other languages. Anywho, I'm SO not going to say what he says about it, because I think every Christian who has ever wanted more than the Lakewoods and the Second Baptists of the world should read it. Anyone who has felt out of place for questioning things or disenfranshised by the modern church should read this short book filled with stories that will make you laugh, cry, and ultimately give you hope. I haven't felt true hope for years on end. I've relished in my ignorance all the while missing the amazing things that have been taking place around me.

I didn't know where to start, but I knew that I had to get involved in community like his. My soul yearned for this. Where does a modern girl with slightly obscure views of the world turn, but craigslist. You can look my add up...I just posted it yesterday. It's under the strictly platonic section in the personals box. I tried to find a spirituality or religious section, but there wasn't one. It states "Wanted : A church that doesn't suck". I honestly didn't think anyone would respond, but I did this yesterday at about 3 or 4 pm and I've had ten responses and only one was 'negative'. It wasn't all that negative. In response, he said, Super Happy Fun Land. So, I wrote him back, explaining I too was skeptical, but hope springs eternal. Yeah, he didn't have anything to say to that.

Come to find, many people recommended this place called Ecclesia. I'm uber excited to see if it's worth my excitement.

Later, Peeps.

I hate money

Dear Kevin Rollins/Michael Dell:

I am writing in response to my recent dissatisfaction with the service I received after paying off my account in full. Every month, I had $50 drafted out of my account by the payment by phone department of your company. Concerned that this money would keep coming out of my account after I paid the amount in full, I preemptively called the customer service number to make sure this wouldn't happen. I realize that businesses must be competitive in today's marketplace, but the people I talked to in India could not understand my problem completely. Also, a "Ricky" (we all know that isn't his real name and that, by extension, is degrading to the Indian people) was very condescending when I asked if money would be drafted out of my account after I paid the balance in full. He said, how could we take money out of your account when the account is closed? I said, I don't know, but I was just making sure this wouldn't happen. And what happens July 17th? You got it. The $50 was in fact taken out of my account. I was upset. I called customer service again, got a refund that took three weeks to get to me, and was promised yet again this would not happen next month. And here's where the plot thickens. So, August 17th rolls around. I come into work, turn on my beautiful new DELL desktop my company bought, open up my internet browser and find....the $50 is taken out AGAIN from my account. I am now most seriously displeased. Not only am I out the $50 that is mine...not yours...I have now written checks, paid bills and gone on living as usual thinking I would have the $50. Turns out my bank account is now overdrawn by four transactions. The transactions that posted as overdrawn transactions add up to $42.82. The fees that the Bank of America will post to my account add up to $132. As I am a recent college graduate, working an entry level job, I do not have this kind of money to just throw to overdraft fees. Had I the $50 in my account...that should have in fact been there...I would not be overdrawn, I would not be worrying about whether or not I can pay my electricity bill, rent, buy food, and fill my car with gas. As I have already been scheduled for a refund for the $50, all I ask is the refund of the overdraft fees that occurred because your negligence. As I am positive you are saving millions of dollars a year by taking jobs away from the American people and paying these Indian people $5 a week (a slight exaggeration used for emphasis) I am assured my request for $132 should not be overwhelming to you.

Sleep well,

Pocket Calls

So, I'm sitting at my desk at work. The business is humming along as usual. I'm working on yet another Excel Spreadsheet that I'm sure is of extreme import. My brain is wandering as I enter in the numbers...I'm thinking back to my lousy weekend, where I took the cat to the vet...teared a little when they checked for parasites...and sat around my parents house alone. I couldn't help but stew in my pity a little longer so I threw in some pathetic thoughts about work. Then, a moment of unadluterated ecstasy! My cell phone rang...and it was............Pinot Nior! "Holy Crap Batman!" Could my day be looking up? Could my insatiable lust for self pity & degradation be coming to an end? For a minute I saw that happy picture of a warm Sunday morning....11am...lying in bed....nudging my lover.....So, I answer the phone. Happily but not TOO eagerly I studder, "Hellllllo?" [Rustling of papers] Again I repeat, "Hellllllo....P--?" [rustling continues] Slowly, I begin to realize the truth of all truths. I was the 'victim' of an accidental call....a pocket call. They say everything happens for a reason & God has a sense of humor. I bet one day he & I'll sit back throw back some good Persian wine...probably a shiraz...and have a good laugh about this....but right now....I remain faithfully yours, PISSED.

Lie

So apparently, when your boss asks you if you hate your job and you ignore it the first time...and she keeps asking you over & over again...you're supposed to lie. Whoops.

The Hot Tub

My blog & I were just recently accused of being 'three steps away from the edge [of the cliff]'. So, I'm rectifying this with a story from the past.

Dallas: February, 2003 - So, this one day my girlfriend calls me up at work. Her boyfriend was being a putz, and she wanted to go flirt with other boys. I say, "hey, let's go Za." Anytime anyone feels low in Dallas, one MUST Za. Hotel Za Za of course. Za is an interesting word in that it can be a noun, verb, adjective, basically you can use Za as any part of speech as long as it passes my & J's approval. Now I'm chasing rabbits...Ok. So, it's a school night...probably Thursday & we head out to the Dragonfly at HZZ lookin' hot as hell in our off the shoulder shirts. Remember when EVERYONE was wearing those off the shoulder shirts? Well, of course, we were. So, we had a couple GnT's each so we're feeling better. In walk two boys. We look them up & down & they happily reciprocate. We're about to go in for the kill when we notice, they're coming towards us...with liquor...for us! God, I love Dallas. So, the kinda short one but OH SO ADORABLE one's name is Rand. He's one of those blonde hair blue eyed, Hitler'd never know type Jews. His celebrity match is a young Anderson Cooper. SO cute...of course J ensnares him immediately. I get stuck with rat fink, Baltimore bill, hair slicked back, Kevin. Regardless, we're chatting, they came from the Mavs game. Mavs won (go Dirk). One thing leads to another & J & I are in the back of Rand's Land Rover...it's a Rand Rover! He heads to his casa in Highland Park. We park in the driveway...open up to garage door to reveal the S class Mercedes and BMW X5. So, we grab a bottle of wine in his contemporary house. Rand says, "let's go to the hot tub". Yeah...the hot tub is on his roof. It's got this fantastical view of downtown Dallas, a little hazy from the steam coming from the hot tub...there's a sound system out there playing something loud & we're passing around the bottle of Kendall Jackson (I know...I was so expecting something better too). Anywho, that was just one of the many adventures from when Susan did Dallas.

Where have all the Raouls gone?

Last night was Phantom, for the 5 billionth time. How do you spell 'billionth'? Hummm...Anywho, it was no Sarah B-man & Mike Crawford, nevertheless, in true form, I still cried at the end. But my question this time was not of a philosophical nature....no, I know how appearance can affect ones life....I wanna know where all the Raouls have gone??? Where are you? I'm making a desperate plea for some man to descend to the prison of my black dispair (I totally skeezed that from ALW) and fill my mind with thoughts of summer time (more stealing). But no. All you frumps just sit around playing video games, watching Sports Center & oggling over unatainable women. I'm tired of you lame asses. Do something worthy you slaves to society. For now, I'm done with you. I want a Raoul & I want a Raoul NOW. Cordially yours, Veruca Salt.

Inequity

I just wrote this email to an 'old' friend...He asked me what I've been up to recently. I told him...I'm living for livings sake. Existential thoughts have been consuming me lately. I know it's the age old question with some very Sunday School answers...but what the hell am I doing with my meaningless existence? I should at least spend life doing something more fun than spending the vast majority of my time living to pay bills, and that's what I've done for years now. Damn Industrial Revolution. Damn TV. Damn luxury of leisure. I should start riding my bike to work simply to be able to connect to a cause. People like to get riled up about stuff...it makes you feel alive. Maybe that's why I've jumped out of a plane twice...For those 30 seconds or so...looking over the edge of the plane...your heart pounds...your breath shortens...and you realize...this could be it. The fear for me lies in the fact that I wouldn't have left anything worth noting except a 2 minute spot on the local news about some young chick that died in a freak skydiving accident...she leaves behind a young Frank the cat.

Penguins

Last night-went to the Angelika & saw March of the Penguins. SUPER film!!! Go see it...it will make you think more than you imagine. These penguins whole existence is to reproduce. To me that's amazing. I feel as though I completely take new life for granted & don't appreciate the power of recreating. I think any society tainted by the industrial revolution has lost its focus and place in the food chain. I feel like as an industrial society we've lost out survival skills & clear definitions of our place in the world. Think about it for just one second. Before the I.R. we focused on sustaining & producing life. We fought to live. And that doesn't sound so bad to me. Yes, there was disease & life expectancy was low, but that was the part of the circle. Don't tell me you've never had one of those days where you thought, 'man I wish my only responsibility in life was to keep a family...till the land...rear the kids...' Ok, maybe that's just me, but I think we've screwed with nature. There's no survival of the fittest anymore for human race. The icky genes keep getting passed on to create a world of geneticall inferior sheep that are lost. Totally a segway into the Second Law of Thermodynamics, but that's TOTALLY a different story. I think we're only killing ourselves by trying to make life easier.

I heart Huckabees

So, I realized the other day that I totally live my life as though life imitates art. Is that bad? I think it might be. Shouldn't art imitate life? Shouldn't life be more meaningful to me than a dumb movie or book written by some psuedo intellectual?

Example, all these movies that you see about 'love'. We all know that love is not like a movie, but I find myself really giving into Hollywood love ideals. If you don't quit your dream job to be with me more often does that mean you don't love me? I broke up with Pinot Nior because I was second to his dream. Second doesn't seem so bad anymore. Maybe I was second in work but first in love. I dunno. Anywho, I just feel brainwashed. I'm sick of feeling like my life should play out like a novel, and I'm stuck in the later chapters right before the end where the protagonist is completely dispairing.

Anywho, I heart Huckabees is a cool ass movie.

Fear

It was requested of me to write about my most substantial fear. Ok...here I go...my biggest fear...letting people really get to know me and by extension, rejection. For example, I'm killing myself over here wanting to tell someone that I'm really starting to be crazy for them, but I can't...I feel like I physically can't talk when someone wants me to tell them how I feel about them. Like when I wanted to tell Pinot Nior (PN-get it...get it?) that I still have mad crazy feelings for him...he set me up nicely...and still I said nothing. This is for the sheer fact that I didn't want him coming back and saying that he doesn't care for me at all like that, & we'd never work. I am SO afraid of rejection...I could never be a guy...I'd NEVER have any dates...well, I'd probably have the courage to ask an ugo out...but that's about it.

Anywho...I hate this post...it sux. Thx Brown Sugah.

Lil Bitch

So, I feel like you can't name your blog Condoms & a Cosmo without having a couple salcious stories. So, here we go. A couple nights ago Mr McCartney and I were expressing our attraction for one another. He's really into this porno-style 'love' making. Being a porn sex novice, I was intrigued. So, there I was, on his couch performing fabulous fellatio, when all the sudden, I get bored...So, I stop...look up and frown. Paul then states rather forcibly, 'Don't frown when you suck my dick, lil bithes only smile when they suck my dick'. Then he yanked my hair & made me finish. I know it's weird that I liked it...but I did. If I thought he was being for real, I wouldn't have, but role play is kinda fun. Then I had to scream something about him being bigger than Dirk Diggler. It was hot man. I feel the scorn of the nay-sayers already. Too me it's like a peanut butter & marshmellow cream sandwich...don't knock it until you try it.

Nigel's Swan Song

I posted Nigel on Craigslist on Tuesday...the first person to look at it wanted to buy so we're going thru that whole painstaking process. VOM! But cool since N was posted Tues & 'bought' by Thurs! Not bad Craig! Thanks! So, I had to go to the little MINI dealership (not really a redundancy, but worth mentioning) to get some work doene, and I'll be honest...I teared up a bit. He was my first car that was ALL mine. So, the dude who is adopting Nigel is definitely going to provide him a good him. He's quite the queer with an infatuation with techno. He insisted the we listen to his cd as he was driving MY Nigel around. I thought that was pretty cute actually. My only hesitation is that he's a smoker & Nigel is NOT used to that, but I believe he'll be able to adapt. Ok...pause as I wipe away some tears. Ok, better. Anywho....I will always love you Nigel...you've made Mama so happy for 2 and a half years.

I wanna know what love is...

Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No.
It is immortal as immaculate Truth,
'Tis not a blossom shed as soon as youth,
Drops from the stem of life--for it will grow,
In barren regions, where no waters flow,
Nor rays of promise cheats the pensive gloom.

Paul McCartney or Kenneth Cole...that is the question. Now, the day after I met Paul he wrote a song about me...Yummie. The day after I met Kenneth he called wanting to know when we were going to make fun of people again. You can see my delimma. Two things I love...music & making myself feel better about my extra weight by cutting others down. Honestly, it's tough. Paul follows his heart...even if that means quasi-destitution. Kenneth...let's just say sometimes I wonder if he should be living in Montrose he loves clothes so much. And he puts product in his perfectly groomed hair...his shoes ALWAYS match his belt...and his jeans hit the ground at precisely the right spot. I'll be honest, it's a bit intimidating getting ready for a date with him. I'm fascinated with Paul...but Kenneth is a bit more socially acceptable. I'm going crazy. It's true...wait...ehh..yup...cue the head voices...

Nigel

Today I think I've officially become responsible. Gag. I'm heading out in a few minutes to clean out the evidence of two and a half years of motoring ecstasy and bank account etherisation. My baby Nigel is going up for adoption hopefully by the end of the week. Mama realized she had to do what was right for her, which also includes an extended holiday to Italy before the year is out...made possible by the kind folks that enjoy car payments! So, back to my high school ride I venture...a beat up 1991 Toyota Camry with 182,000 miles on it. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

So, you wanna know about the title

My Ex/Friend was talking to me about how I could repay a debt to him...a $411 debt to him. Being the boy I loved for 2 yrs, he says, "hey, you can pay me back in sexual favors". I quickly respond, "vomit". "Come on Susan. I'll go to the Winn Dixie, pick up some condoms & a Cosmo...you know...in case you get bored", he replies. So, being the virtuous girl I am, I hoped in my car, drove my fat ass to Dallas, & the dreaded ex made lots of deposits in Bank of Virginia's Canyon. Ha ha ha...Just kidding. I didn't do it...I swear on the Bible...the Quran...the Pentatuke...the Book of Mormon...even my Britney Spears anthology album.