Your body can tell you're pregnant before you can.

This is the opening line in a commercial for a home pregnancy test.
Have you seen it?

Your body can tell you're pregnant before you can.

It's sounds like a typical comment on Facebook, but it's not. The home pregnancy test company paid money for it. A group of college educated men and women thought that sentence up, and a second group signed off on it.
There was a bunch of time and energy expended in order to bring that commercial to Susan's TV.

Impressive, don't you think?


Susan was so worked up about all the misspellings on Facebook that she
personally herself committed a misspelling on her last post.
Don't bother looking, it's gone.

Susan spent some quality time with her daughter at the mall. The mall again.
What can she do? It's where the kid wants to go. Susan's budget for the daughter was very small.
S. M. All.
The daughter behaved in a very joyless manner thinking about how little the allotted amount would purchase. She brightened up as she amassed a modest collection of shopping bags.

Susan and the daughter are not all giggly and girl friendy. Their relationship is based on mutual admiration and conversation.
It works for them.

Recently, during their weekly viewing of Jersey Shore, Susan advised the daughter that just because a pair of boobs develope doesn't mean they have to pop out of every outfit.
She also made the point that alcohol fools you into thinking bad ideas are good
That girls shouldn't climb under the covers with every boy available
That boys will do whatever you allow, then do it tomorrow with a different girl
And Sammi is an unbelievably pathetic wretch who should be ridiculed.

Apparently Susan has made these points in the past because the daughter covered her ears with her hands and yelled 'I know, mom! You tell me all the time!'


OMG, everything on Facebook sounds so SMART

Here's a sampling of things Susan saw on one Facebook wall;

The tragedy was tragic

I'm going to go with the mentally ill theory personally myself

1am Saturday night

Aisle misspelled as isle

Psycho misspelled as psyco

Roll misspelled as role

Were misspelled as where

Stick with Susan as she checks another;

Were misspelled as where again

so spelled sooooooooo

definitely misspelled as definately



In a very short period of time Susan and her little sister amassed three brand new bottles of Kahlua.

Kahlua is as close as she likes to get to Mexico.

Back in the day Susan enjoyed drinking a combination of Kahlua with Bailey's and vodka, she's got a number of memories attached to that particular cocktail. But, it's definitely a young person's drink and nothing she'd like to revisit.

She's still experiencing a shudder of nausea when she thinks of Irish cream.


Susan lied to her daughter.
She totally fabricated a response in order to avoid sharing a bar of dark chocolate.
She just made something up that had absolutely no truth to it at all.
Susan values truth yet she lied.
And kept her chocolate.


Susan and her daughter
made ice cream in a plastic bag
and it tasted like ice cream.


Susan's brain doesn't work properly anymore.
After dinner Susan and her little sister were sitting on the couch rubbing their bloated bellies separated by Lucy, the lucky pit bull. Lucy wasn't rubbing her belly, she was licking her lady parts until Susan nudged her to knock it off. Immediately after Susan let Lucy lick her face. Lick her face!

Susan didn't even realize there was anything wrong with that until her little sister looked horrified and said Ew, I'm not kissing you goodnight. How could Susan's brain forget from one second to the next where Lucy's tongue had been?

Susan's never let any other dog get anywhere near her face but she's made exceptions with the new dog because she still misses the old dog.
This doesn't negate the fact that Susan's brain doesn't work properly anymore.


Susan did something today that she hasn't done since the '80s; she cried at her desk.
The whole thing took about a minute and it didn't even help her feel better. Of course she had to keep a lid on the sobbing or risk being overheard. So, she sniffled, wiped her tears, put on her unhappy face and went about her business.
Don't worry, no one's being mean to Susan or anything rotten like that. She's just experiencing the typical frustrations of someone from whom perfection is expected, who has too much to do and not enough time to do it.
Anybody else have this problem?


Susan made chicken salad from the dark meat no one ate at dinner. To minimize how unappealing all dark meat chicken salad is she threw in a bunch of nonsense like Craisins, walnuts and cilantro. As she was adding orange zest, she accidentally zested her knuckle.

This was to be tomorrow's lunch. She wanted to eat it with crackers, but she had none. Susan had been wanting to make crackers since she watched Mark Bittman make them, so she made some.

On their way out of the oven she dropped a pan and the crackers hit the floor. Susan slid them back into place and went to pick the pan up with her bare hand. Susan watched two of her fingers blister immediately; big puffy white blisters that took almost thirty seconds to send the message to her brain that OW, THEY HURT.

She reflexively reached for the small stash of Vicodin left over from her dental surgery. Reflexively? Immediately and without thinking she reached for the Vicodin and ate one, then she removed the dog hair from her crackers. It took another half hour for that loopy, boozy sensation to arrive but by that time she was in bed watching Celebrity Rehab.


Christmas has been eradicated from Susan's house, the only things that remain are two wheezing poinsettias and a few hanging snowflakes. A girlfriend had already come & gone in the morning, leaving her gigantic fake tree and seasonal decorations for storage in Susan's basement.

Susan generally has her fill of Christmas before it even begins so you can imagine how satisfying it is for her to rub it out.

Susan started the year by sitting in bed and watching a favorite odd movie. Her first breakfast of the year was lox and cream cheese on a pumpernickel bagel and her first baking project was biscotti for Cousin Lisa's house later in the day. The biscotti, with candied ginger, cranberries and toasted almonds was declared by Susan's little sister to taste like fruit cake so now Susan's all paranoid about making it again.

Susan doesn't have any resolutions this year other than making a list of art projects she wants to complete. She wrote a list for each of her kids too, unfortunately for them their lists were more utilitarian in content; clean off the dining table, do a load of laundry, give the dog water.
Boo hoo kids, get to work.


Susan's daughter ended the year under the effect of her first monthly menstrual cycle. Poor thing. She's got another 40 years of discomfort and inconvenience ahead of her, but Susan did her best not to let on.

The daughter had previously been prepared with both information and supplies for the wonderful thing that happens once a month, they've just been waiting. Now the wait is over. Happy New Year, kid.

Susan presented the Monthly Mess as a club that the daughter was now a member of and welcomed her with some chewable Tylenol.