Haiku

While brushing her teeth
She hears a rumbling outside
And investigates

Through the open door
She sees the husband engage
The man with a truck

The cars! she panics
Still wet and in a towel
She runs to get dressed

Hands shaking she thinks
Which car are they here to hook?
Or will they take both!

She calms herself down
And works it out in her mind
It's only a car

Dressed, she walks quickly
To join the husband outside
And remove her things

Wait, that's no tow truck
But a PODS container truck
Here for a neighbor

Barely averting
A f*cking heart attack sets
Her mood for the day.

Susan farted in front of a lady in the supermarket.
She ran back to get the two boxes of Pop Tarts she abandoned on the shelf and farted as soon as she got there. She didn't even know that she had to fart, it just happened.
Susan is normally flatulent but this was different,
like a little surprise puff of air passing through her anus.
It was almost cute, like a quick Bronx cheer.
That was quite unexpected she said out loud, not directly to the woman searching through the breakfast bars, but for her benefit. Susan took her Pop Tarts and ran away.

Why is it that nobody in Susan's house can;
Do anything without a television on
Lock the back door
Indicate that they've used the last of something by putting it on the grocery list
Refrain from leaving their fingernail clippings in the bathroom
Put the cereal away
Shut lights off
Engage in any requested action without saying in a minute
Feed the dog
Throw a wet towel over the top of something to help it to dry
Keep small electronics from hitting the floor
Hide the dirty clothes when company is over
Quit talking when Susan's had enough of listening

Susan's back to being a redhead again;
RR07 Intense Copper Red.
She cut her hair to within an inch of its life too.
It's so short now people say Oh, you got your hair cut instead of Oh, I love your hair cut.

Tonight Susan and her daughter made dinner together. Susan did most of the grunt work like shopping for tomatoes, scallions, parsley & basil then doing most of the chopping but the recipe and enthusiasm came from the daughter. It's got all the food groups as she learned when she made it with her Family Consumer Science class
(that's Home Ec, old timers) and only requires boiling the water for macaroni. Dare Susan bore you with the recipe?
She thinks she will.

1 lb pasta
2 cups fresh tomatoes
8 tblsp fresh scallions, just use fresh everything
4 tblsp parsley leaves
4 tblsp basil leaves
1/8 cup olive oil
4 tblsp Parmesan cheese

Chop tomatoes, scallions, parsley & basil, put them & the olive oil in a bowl. Set aside.
Boil pasta, drain (reserve 1/4 of pasta water) and toss into the tomato mixture. Add Parmesan, toss again and serve.
Feeds 4.

After dinner Susan was making fun of her son for misplacing his cell phone. He got even by reminding her of the time she put the rental car keys in a Slim Jim container and then had a melt down in the Florida heat when she couldn't find them. Florida is not a good place for Susan. Her first exposure to that sunny hell was when she was 15 and had a f*cking stroke because a palmetto bug the size of her fist was running rampant in the motel room.
Her second exposure was two summers ago when she took her kids to Disney and lost the keys.
The final time will be to bring back her parents' bodies.
Maybe she'll make her little sister go instead.

Susan had a very short interaction with a sheriff of the county in which she resides. She wasn't getting in trouble or anything, she just had to accept a legal document on behalf of someone else. As part of the interaction the sheriff had to write down a description of Susan including her date of birth, weight and hair color. Susan breezed through the 6-9-60 and 165 lbs but then hit a bumpy patch.

Sheriff: What color is your hair?

Susan: Um, it's supposed to be red.

Sheriff:

Susan: I know I'm past due for my L'Oreal.

Sheriff:

Susan: It was orange when I was a kid.

Sheriff: Let's just say brown.

'Mom, your breath smells so bad, I'm not even kidding.'

Susan was reading Jessica's blog, (she's very funny take a look) and Susan decided to lift Jessica's topic of her worst date ever and use it.
Susan's dating experience was limited because she went right from being a virgin to having affairs. In high school she didn't understand what going all the way was.
Really!
But, she did have two dates with the best friend of a co-worker which qualifies as her worst date ever.
This is what she remembers from thirty years ago;
Her date told her that he had a 'sexual problem' as Susan ate her salad,
When they walked along the street her shadow was like five feet longer than his shadow,
and she spent the whole drive home thinking of a way to avoid kissing him which she did by agreeing to go out with him again.

Susan's in between paychecks and got caught doing her food shopping in the dollar store tonight.
She stopped in for burritos and a bag of peppermints but ended up getting Hamburger Helper, tomato sauce, frozen cubed potatoes, green chilies, kosher salt and 48 ounces each of iced tea and a fake orange juice drink.
Horrified?
She would have bought more but she ran out of cash.
She went home to drink sangria and fix her third day of chicken leftovers.

Susan had a painful bump on her eyebrow yesterday.
A hot compress made it feel better but she went to bed knowing that it was the beginning of something bad.
She woke up with a real old fashioned ugly high school pimple, the sort of thing she would have taken care of if it were anywhere else. She hit it again with a hot compress, a dab of concealer, eyebrow pencil then threw on a distractingly large necklace and left for work.

She looked in a mirror every chance she got, it was getting bigger and turning purple. She avoided her coworkers and kept her conversation to a minimum whenever she was in their company so they wouldn't look at her. All day long she daydreamed about going home and popping that thing.

Eventually she got her chance then hid her work underneath a modified band aid.

The next morning it looked better but still required a bit of camouflage; concealer, pencil and multiple strands of wood and glass beads. She gave herself a headache from poking it every hour to see if it still hurt.

Susan was rewarded for being up very late the other night with a movie from her teenage past, Burnt Offerings.
She propped herself up in bed to watch Karen Black in all her '70s glory transform from wholesome mom on vacation to crazy lady in the attic. A creeptastic hearse driver was on hand to keep Oliver Reed from enjoying a good night's sleep and Bette Davis was collecting a paycheck for being cheeky and adorable until it was her time to die.

Susan made it through a good portion of the movie but
3 am is her cut off for being awake. Anything after 3 am and she risks having an anxiety inspired episode.
Susan formerly suffered from panic attacks, totally debilitating panic attacks which she controlled through sheer force of will. Really.
Since that time she carries around a certain amount of residual anxiety which she sidesteps by employing proven strategies, like not staying up all night long.

The last time Susan was on a plane she felt herself declining into a state of overheated claustrophobia. She adjusted the nozzle above her head and directed a stream of cool air directly onto her face. Immediately she relaxed. The claustrophobia, which does not generally reverse course before pushing the host to the brink of hysteria, disappeared. Banished by cool air.
Fascinating.

Well, tonight was the night that Susan was unable to join Bossy and her bloggy posse in NYC. She assumes that they were all able to enjoy themselves without the company of Twisted Susan and she'll catch them next time.