Suzy Says

I really have to stop procrastinating and get packing. Really. I mean, I leave tomorrow. Getting the suitcases out would probably be a good start.

To distract me from the horror of packing (very, very close to housework – involving, as it does, putting things away), I have a horror movie on TV. It’s the very schlocky Frankenstein’s Daughter, and so far, the scariest thing in it is the allegedly “teenage” band singing “Special Date”.

Best line: “We all miss Suzy. But she’ll have some stories to tell when she gets back.”

Update:

Inspired by Pascale, I actually did clean up the closet! I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary,other than the fact that I really have a *lot* of t-shirts. Mr. Mouse didn’t show up to help or hinder. I felt incredibly virtuous when I was finished.

“Packing” so far consists of piling all the things I think I’m going to bring in a couple of boxes. I have decided to go minimal and only bring one handbag(!), though I’m not saying I won’t acquire one or two in Florida, to help along the local economy and all. I’m also just going to wear the little diamond studs I wear all the time anyway and leave it at that for accessorizing.

The order to have bills and fan mail forwarded to me at my temporary tropical paradise is in, and I have a brand-new road atlas with maps of the entire North American continent, so if I get lost, I have no-one to blame but myself (though map-reading is not one of my few talents). Self is as groomed as she gets, so I’m pretty much good to go. And it’s only Friday!

Yesterday, I went to see the doctor to stock up on non-recreational drugs, and she mentioned that it was the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. Her mother, then in her early 20’s, was one of the survivors, and had been incarcerated in the camp for more than a year, surviving by her considerable wit and intelligence.

While working in the camp’s munitions factory, she managed to make two little charms out of lead: one a four-leaf clover, and one a little book, engraved with a tulip. These are now my doctor’s most precious possessions. They survived, along with her mother and are a reminder both of that terrible time and of her mother’s strength, faith, and spirit.

Only a week before I start my quest for Sass in a Glass. Can I get all this done before time’s up?

My To-Do List
By Suzy
Making a big to-do about nothing, as usual

1. Clean up “closet” enough to find out what clothes I actually have (“closet” in this case means “back room full of miscellaneous stuff, including clothes, shoes, handbags and mysterious crap. Probably the meaning of life is in there, along with Mr. Mouse and my long-lost virginity.”)

2. Decide what to bring (definitely both pairs of sparkly sandals, but other than that, I’m not sure).

3. Accessorize and pack. Which handbags to bring? Do I have pool jewelry? Do I need it? Should I get a spray tan?

4. Get Self detailed (Dye hair. Get waxed. Do nails (is now the time to experiment with nail art? Oh, and where are my toe rings?).

5. Get mail forwarded (can’t miss all those bills!).

6. See dr. and stock up on non-recreational drugs.

7. Get maps to minimize getting lost potential.

BTW just the thought of Florida has made my cold better, though I’m still going through an inordinate number of Kleenexes. Those who call me snotty are now both literally and figuratively correct.

From my darling Kathleen:

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1) Susan (Work Suzy; faux-adult Suzy)
2) Suzy (Real Life Me; also variants used by my family such as Floozy; Flooz; Boozy; Snoozy – you get the idea)
3) Princess

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1) I never had one! How retro am I?

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1) My friends
2) My family
3) My handbag collection

THREE THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1) Panic attacks
2) My real hair color
3) My real age

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1) Death
2) Boredom
3) Waking up day one to find that all my age and indiscretions have caught up with me & I look like Keith Richards

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1) Black coffee
2) Books
3) Love

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1) Diamond earrings (I sleep in them)
2) Perfume
3) Lip Venom

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS (at the moment):
1) Wilco
2) Blackalicious
3) Brian Wilson

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS (at the moment):
1) I Am Trying to Break Your Heart (Wilco)
2) Passion (Blackalicious)
3) Good Vibrations (Beach Boys)

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1) Living in different places
2) Actually making money from my start-up job
3) Keeping my New Year’s resolutions (or, as a guy at the gym calls it, “New Year’s Revolutions”)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1) Love
2) Trust
3) Passion

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE:
1) The next thing I say will be true.
2) The last thing I said was false.
3) I am a very good liar.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1) Expressive, intelligent eyes
2) Beautiful hands
3) Strength without being musclebound

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN’T DO:
1) Drink milk
2) Vote Republican
3) Read or watch science fiction or fantasy

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1) Shopping
2) Reading
3) Blogging (readin’ & writin’)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1) Be in Paris at a sidewalk caf&eacute, sipping champagne
2) Already be in Florida, walking on the beach
3) Be hanging out with my sis & bro in the hot tub under the stars

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1) French Polynesia (Tahiti, Bora Bora)
2) Bar Harbor, Maine
3) Italy (Venice, Siena, Florence)

THREE KIDS’ NAMES:
1) Clementine
2) Spencer
3) Wilson

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1) Be rich
2) Be happy
3) Be fearless

THREE WAYS I AM STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:
1) I hate housework and avoid it at all costs
2) I love baseball and hockey
3) I think naked girls are generally better to look at than naked boys

THREE WAYS I AM STEREOTYPICALLY A CHICK:
1) I love sparkly things, especially jewelry
2) I love to shop, with special focus on handbags and shoes
3) I’m all about the pretty

THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1) Johnny Depp
2) Jared Leto
3) Gregory Smith

THREE PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW:
1) Amy
2) Cassie
3) Lisa

?

That’s it. I’m heading to Florida at the end of the month to demand an explanation for the total lack of pink grapefruit juice. The presence of actual pink grapefruits does not make up for no sass in a glass for Suzy.

I must really want that juice, hmmmm?

I coughed myself awake this morning – even less fun than being awakened by an alarm clock, though definitely better than being woken up at 3:30 am – and decided to venture out to get some of my favorite pink grapefruit juice (“It’s sass in a glass!”).

However, the store owner informed me that the hurricanes that just wouldn’t leave Florida alone a few months back meant that there was no sass in a glass for Suzy or anyone else for a while. Back ordered, he said, in the mysterious jargon of retail.

But he did have actual pink grapefruits for sale, which made no sense to Me. I mean, if there are grapefruits, shouldn’t there be grapefruit juice?

Walking home, I pondered this conundrum, and another sprang to mind: why do we say men are womanizers, but we don’t say women are manizers? And could you refer to a gay woman as a womanizer, if she was? Oh, the shallowness of Suzy’s mind, especially when deprived of sass in a glass.

I came home to find the kitchen flooded (again), I have a raging cold (again), and an inbox full of misspelled porn invitations.

Now, if you’re going to send out these sleazy missives, at least have the courtesy to learn how to spell simple, every day words like “whore” (not “whroe”) and “sluts” (not “sltus”). The linguist and spelling bee winner in me wants to reply to these messages, giving their authors the correct spelling of these and other important porn terms, but I realize that this is almost literally pearls before swine.

Also, I’m too lazy, and my day will be entirely occupied by feeling sorry for myself (I was sick a *month* ago! My immune system is even more pathetic than I am!) and ministering to my illness. Good thing I bought up all those Kleenex shares the last time I was sick. I’ll have enough money to set up a school for illiterate pornographers.

I’m almost afraid to tell you how early I had to get up to catch my flight home, which left at 6:30 am. That’s in the morning, you know. So the alarm went off at the unSuzy hour of 3:30 am. That’s hardly even morning. You should only be up at that hour if you’re still up from having fun the night before, and for no other reason. As I groped for the off switch on the hotel’s clock radio, I heard a guy on the street below bellowing, “Fuuuuuck youuuuuu!”

That pretty much summed up my feelings.

I had that feeling again when I was on the plane, sitting beside a guy who demonstrated burping skills which Ashlee Simpson would have envied. It was astounding. And gross.

He also ordered coffee black, with six sugars. Now, as you know, I have no problem with black coffee – I drink it that way myself. I don’t want anything to get between me & the caffeine. But all that sugar? I was irresistibly reminded of the scene in the late great series, My So-Called Life, where Angela’s father asks her if she wants milk in her coffee, and she says, “No, I take it black, with three or four sugars”, because that’s how her dream guy takes his coffee.

My grandmother used to give me a spoonful of sugar to cure hiccups, but I never thought it would cause very loud public burping. Of course, it might not have been the sugar. And this guy ain’t anyone’s dream guy.

I did get where I was going, but:

Flight One
Sailed through security, untouched by human hands. Plane allegedly on time. Got on plane, and it began to taxi after the usual warnings of the possibility of impending death and disaster.

Then it came to an unnerving halt, and the pilot cheerfully informed us that we were delayed for an hour due to air traffic control problems in Chicago.

Will I ever learn not to fly through (or attempt to fly through) Chicago? Especially in the winter?

Realize that delay, which ended up being more than an hour (are pilots really optimistic, or really afraid of passengers mutinying if they knew how long they were really going to be delayed?), meant that I would miss connecting flight.

But…

We got to Chicago 20 minutes before my plane was due to leave. I ran like hell from Gate B1 to Gate C10, racing through the tunnel of disco lights and scattering anyone who got in my way. Look out! It’s Sweaty Suzy in her sassyboots (when I dressed that morning, I didn’t expect to be sprinting).

I make it to…

Flight Number Two

…where I collapse, overheated and freaked, into the dreaded middle seat. On one side, there is a German guy who is already asleep and slept through the whole flight. The stewardess had to wake him up right before we landed to ask him to put his seat back up and his shoes on. He just went back to sleep. I told you, there’s one on every flight.

On the other side is an Italian guy who isn’t sleepy enough and keeps trying to buy me drinks and food (gone are the days of free booze and food in cattle class).

Seats are in the bulkhead row, though, so there’s no-one in front of me. But I have nowhere to put my carry on bags and have to persuade the stewardess to stow them in First Class. I wish she could have stowed me in First Class.

Flight left on time, more or less, but was an extra hour (almost 5 hours instead of almost 4) long due to headwinds. Felt a lot longer.

Get to repeat the process backwards tomorrow, arriving at the airport at 5 am. I hope. I think I hope.

I’m a big, fat liar, aren’t I? I didn’t expect to have computer access since I left mine at home, but I’m actually at the office, awaiting a meeting with a potential client who, yes, delayed the meeting. We were supposed to meet at 9 am, but he decided 3 pm was better. Wish I’d known before I got up at 6 to make the meeting on time. I really wish that one.