Something New...

Okay, I know. I suck. I haven't posted in FOREVER...and for that I am sorry.

I am also, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, VERY sorry to do this to you people again, BUT....

I am switching my blog, yet again. What can I say? I'm a creature of change. Apparently I get bored extraordinarly easily.

My new address: http://sueanned.wordpress.com

Go there.

Do it.

You know you want to.

Also...

26. CDs from friends who know my taste in music so well that I could tell them to go buy me a CD that I enjoy or I will kill them, and they'll do it without any problem. It rocks.

27. Friends who get me wind-up chickens who lay bubble gum eggs.

28. People who don't think my THUMBS ARE FAT.

This is all.

25 List

Okay, since I haven't posted my "list" for what, like, five days now?...I figure I have a lot of catching up to do. So, here is my list of 25 things I am thankful for.

1. Birthdays.
2. Cards from friends with pictures of me on the toilet. No, not a "real" me, a "fake" me. If my friends had pictures of me on the toilet, that would take our friendships to a whole new level of weird...and they're weird enough.
3. New Bibles with THUMB INDEXES. I've wanted a Thumb Index Bible since I was like...five. I don't really need a thumb index...but they're just so cool. They make me feel special.
4. People like Sean and Loni who point out when I've failed miserably at my attempts at being thankful. Seriously. I was wondering if anyone would notice that.
5. Boys who take me on birthday weekends to Duluth and buy me things like Air Purifiers and Jewelry.
6. People like Sharon who want me to post again
7. Moms. Because they go out of their way to make life easier, happier and gooder. And besides, they just rock. That's what they're there for.
8. Coworkers who buy me lunch for my birthday. Even though I think it's part of a conspiracy to make me fat.
9. Snow. Yeah, I know, I don't like snow either...but the more snow we get now, the less chance we have of having forest fires this summer and burning down the entire town.
10. Pop...and coffee.
11. New running shoes that I swear I will start using once the snow melts. I have to burn off the pop and coffee somehow.
12. Flowers sent to my work place from afore mentioned boy.
13. Springtime...despite it's absolute opposition to showing it's shining face anytime soon.
14. Customers that willingly offer compliments.
15. Reaching the age of 24...I mean, 19...without having done irreversible damage to my life, my future, or my health due to irresponsible decisions.
16. Easter.
17. Awesome siblings who never forget my birthday and always send something special for it.
18. A brother-in-law who likes me enough to leave creepy phone messages as "Phil" telling me how much he misses me and our walks in the park. I know, it's weird, but it made me laugh.
19. Boat Neck Tees.
20. People that make me laugh. And not laugh as in, "I feel sorry for you," but laugh as in, "Whoa, hey, ho, that was funny!"
21. Chicken strips with barbecue sauce.
22. Ice cream cake.
23. Weird people. Because they make life more interesting.
24. Sunshine.
25. Packaging tape and permanent markers. Don't ask. Just accept it and move on.

That's all I have for now. Now you'll have to excuse me before I begin to gush.

And another five

Things for which I am thankful...

1. The fact that my boss didn't call into work today so I didn't have to waste 30 minutes on the phone listening to him tell me to do things I already did three weeks ago and have him think out loud over the phone to me saying things like, "Uh...yeah, um....hm....I don't remember what I was going to say." REALLY?

2. Special K Breakfast Bars. Those things are CRAAAAAZY tasty. As in, Fried Chicken crazy tasty. But they don't taste like fried chicken. They tast completely different. Just really good.

3. My coworkers who make my job and life a little less boring and a little more tolerable.

4. People that don't drive stupidly. Like not trying to figure out if they can turn right on a green light. Those people that don't waste my time being stupid kinda rock.

5. People that speak well. Then I don't have to obsessively correct their grammar. And their stupidity. "That flashlight is broke. I had came to pick you up. I had went to find you." I would like to thank all the people out there who do not speak like this.

This is all for today. Pretty sure it's only day three and I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel.

5 more things

1. Naps. Being THIS tired all day, I definitely deserve the second best thing God ever invented. I bet you're wondering what the best thing is, huh? Napping, idiots.

2. Loralee. 'Cause she makes me laugh my guts out and if I lived in Logan, I'd arrange it so I could live next door to her so I could bother her night and day.

3. Rain. Especially on tired days where you want to take naps.

4. "Criminal Minds". No, not actual criminal minds. That's just sick. I mean the show. 'Cause it's the best show ever and it's on tonight.

5. My new resolution to start running this spring and summer, because after getting small amounts of exercise I've found it really helps physically and mentally. And I think I might actually stick to it this year.

And no, Loralee...Mitt Romney will never make it into any of my Top Five lists...you sick little sadist.

New Leaf

After the past few weeks of feeling emotionally, mentally and spiritually drained, and after one too many afternoons of lamenting the situations that make up my life... I have made a decision to turn over a new leaf.

As I was sitting in this little coffin of a room, tap-tap-tapping away on my computer, obsessing over things that I can neither control nor fix, lamenting the sad, sad situation which is my job search, wondering if I will be left to rot in this hellish little town with six cats and the charming little title of "Old Aunt Sue" or "Crazy Cat Lady"... it occurred to me.

I complain and whine and get frustrated and feel sorry for myself and obsess and worry and try to please other people WAY TOO MUCH. I mean...seriously...get over myself...who do I think I am?

SO...here's the new plan...each day I have to list five things which I am thankful for or tell five good things about my day. I'm going to practice being positive. And I'm hoping...having a thankful heart will help me to see things rightly and I will be able to pull myself out of this rut I currently find myself in.

Here goes.

1. Today, it is BEAUTIFULLY sunny and warm and just plain gorgeous. It is awesome.

2. Today, I received six job offers. Okay, I didn't, but a little positive confession never killed anyone. But I AM thankful that I currently HAVE a job where I can pay all of my bills.

3. I have awesome friends, family, boy and coworkers. Awesome. Oh...and awesome blog buddies too. And they never, ever irritate me or make me want to smack them or shove their faces in. (Another positive confession there in case you couldn't tell.)

4. I am not sick. Not anywhere. No aches, no pains, no 24 hour flu bug, no sniffles, nothing. Go Vitamin C.

5. I have a birthday coming up. It's a birthday. I'm supposed to celebrate it. So, I'm going to.

Know what's funny? That was actually a little bit painful. It's so much easier to whine, complain and moan. But no. I'm going to work on that. Seriously. I'm going to be so positive, I'm going to be like your own personal Pollyanna. It's going to irritate the crud out of you people.

Oh. My. Goodness.

I love Blogger.

God bless Blogger.

People at Blogger are the best people in the world.

EVER.

They're even better than Mormons.

Why?

Because they...

UNDELETED MY OLD BLOG FOR ME!!!!

Oh my gosh...seriously, I could kiss their feet.

I am a happy, happy girl once again.

You people rock.

Now...if I could just figure out how to access it...did I have an old password? How does this work?

Either way...I have it back. Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do with it...

Pertater Chippies

Whoa! Okay! After the depression that was that last blog post...let me blog about something happy.

Something like...

Potato Chips.

Seriously, due to the fact that they are the best invention in the whole wide world ever, potato chips are bound to make people happy. The mere phrase puts a smile on the lips of...well...everyone.

I have a problem with potato chips. That problem being I love them WAY too much. Seriously...if I could eat them at every meal...and then again for dessert...and a midnight snack...I would be the happiest woman alive. Most women are chocoholics. I'm a chipoholic. I can't get enough of them. My mom finally stopped having them around the house because A) they're not good, in fact, very bad for you and B) I can't keep my hands on them even when I try. So to spare me from an early potato chip induced death, she's begun buying Pringles.

(Actually, I'm not sure which is sadder. My obsession with these chips or the fact that I still live with my mother.)

But I digress...

My point is...

Potato Chips are really good. And I can't find a healthier substitute that will keep me as happy.

Pretzels? Please.

Popcorn? Meh.

Salt water? No thanks.

See? There's absolutely no replacement for this magnificent invention. NONE!

*sigh* But if I hope to keep my girlish figure and not...you know...rot out my insides...I best lay off of them until a special occasion, like...my birthday...that I'm not celebrating...

Ooh. Chips and Pop. Best day ever.

If you want a happy blog post, this one is not for you

I have a birthday next month.

I'm not disclosing the date because I've decided to forego the activities.

Birthdays are highly overrated. They're merely inconsequential days where you get to contemplate the fact that you are another year older (but not really wiser because if you were any wiser you would have kept your mouth shut about your birth date approaching.) The most depressing thing is that you get to do it again next year, only you'll be even OLDER than the year before and no matter how much you want to stop it, you can't. So, you just get older and older and older...until...you know....you don't get older anymore.

Wow. I had no idea I had such depressing ideas about the whole thing. But every birthday just reminds me that I'm no longer a "kid", I have to get on with "real life" and despite my protesting, things are in a constant state of change no matter how much I may want them to stay the same. Apparently, I've become hugely fatalistic over the past few months. But seriously...the whole cycle strikes me as a little morbid.

This one's for Loni

I am now allowing my blog to accept annonymous comments.

So, all you creepy lurkers out there who can't bring themselves to reveal their true identity may lurk no more. Your anonymity is important to me. Comment away... Loni.

Parade of Homes

I found my dream home this past weekend while in the Twin Cities.

My boy and I drove past it and before we even realized it was a Parade of Homes home, I was pointing out the window, poking him in the arm, and obstructing his vision while gasping, "Oh my gosh! Look at that! It's my dream home!"

So, imagine my surprise when we discovered it was on our list of must-see homes.

I walked in and honestly...I got a little week in the knees.

Floor to ceiling windows overlooking Lake Minnetonka, vaulted ceilings, dark-dark-DARK stained hardwood floors and walls painted in a warm white...

It was glorious.

It was my New England style home with a wide-open airy feeling, stark contrasts and windows upon windows upon windows. It had a four seasons porch (yesssss), a room that would make the PERFECT library, a glorious kitchen with black granite counter tops, a massive garage (which my boy apparently thinks he would need) and...get this...a flippin' basketball court. A BASKETBALL COURT! I don't need a basketball court, but it could easily be turned into a massive home theater. And we'd need to re-do the basement because it wasn't utilized quite as efficiently as it could have been. But other than that? It was GLORIOUS. Seriously. I haven't stopped talking about it since I got home.

But the very best part that made me majorly fall in love with this place?

NO WOOD. Okay, it had wood, but the wood didn't look like wood because of the dark stain. And this is a very good thing indeed because I HATE wood. I hate it. I don't know why, I just do. I think it's the ugliest, most horrid looking thing anyone can put in a house ever. EVER. But you can't really get by without having wood in a home so...you just disguise the wood to not look so woodish....It's BRILLIANT.

*sigh*

I even mentioned to my boy that if homes were things you could make out with, I'd be sucking face with this one.

Ahem.

If I had 2.6 Million Dollars, I'd be moving in tomorrow.

Oh....my....gosh

It's the first day of Spring.

And it's like forty degrees here.

Which makes it pretty much the best day ever.

Despite the gray, rainy, muddy mess.

It's still Spring.

SPRING, BABY.

The best season ever.

I'm so excited I could just about piddle.

In other news, I should take this opportunity to apologize for my slacker ways and never posting, never, ever, ever.

I suck.

And I'm sorry for that.

More later.

The Bestest Movie In the Whole Wide World Forever and Ever 'Til Death Do Us Part, Amen.

I used to have two favorite movies.

#1: "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?"

#2: "About a Boy"

They are no longer my two favorite movies.

They are now my second favorite movies.

Only because they have been replaced by...

THE BESTEST MOVIE IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD FOREVER AND EVER 'TIL DEATH DO US PART, AMEN.

If people could marry movies, I'd be hightailing it down the altar as we speak.

If people could wear movies, I'd never change my clothes ever, ever.

If people could eat movies, I'd become a professional glutton.

IT IS THAT GOOD.

I get a wonderful feeling of euphoria just thinking about it. I walk around telling myself "Life is good" now that I've seen it. My life has become a wonderful world full of happy rainbows and smiling butterflies and playful kittens and laughing, magical fairies that sprinkle their happy, smiling, playful, laughing, magical fairy dust on everyone wherever they go.

ALWAYS.

If this movie were a stuffed animal in a Hallmark store, I'd pick it up and say things like, "You're just the BESTEST wittul movie in the whole wide world, yes you are. Yes, you are!"

Um...

Yeah.

Ahem.

Now I'm just getting carried away.

It's not THAT good.

Wait, what am I saying?

It IS that good...it's just not good enough to respond to in such a flagrantly irrational and retarded way.

I suppose you wanna know what movie it is, huh?

"Stranger than Fiction."

It's glorious, I say.

GLORIOUS!

I'm sorry. I'm getting carried away again. It's just really good.

So...go watch it. Enjoy it. Revel in the movie making magic and make it your favorite forever and ever, amen.

Do it.

Or I will hurt you.

Note to Self...

After having suffered through girl problems the entire day and being unable to fall asleep due to afore mentioned girl problems...

I discovered that sprawling out on one's stomach and contorting one's head at an unusually un-human angle...

Not only makes you fall asleep...

But it also makes you forget the pain that is being a female.

Awesome.

Free for all

So, “American Idol” apparently has another scandal on its hands.

This from The Associated Press:

"A close friend of “American Idol” semi-finalist Antonella Barba says that the aspiring singer is not the subject of some graphically sexual pictures purported to be of her that were posted on the Internet last week.

The pictures include one of four women posing topless at the beach, their hands covering their breasts, and others of a woman engaged in a sexual act. The postings were anonymous.
Barba's best friend, Amanda Coluccio of Holmdel, with whom she auditioned and won a trip to Hollywood for the second round before being eliminated, told The Star-Ledger of Newark that the less graphic photos are of Barba, but denied she is pictured in the pornographic ones.

"The really bad ones aren't her. I've studied them," Coluccio told The Star-Ledger for Monday's newspapers. "It's not her nose. She's never had (acrylic nail) tips (like the woman in the photo) in her life. She's the least slutty person I know."

The least "slutty" person she knows. Ahem. You can hear the class and intelligence just oozing out of these two, can't you?

As the hometown of this latest scandal “victim” rallies around her, this is what one local boy had to say:

"It's the way this town is: Everybody knows everything about their friends," said Mark Dillon, 17. "At least half the people in this town have pictures of their friends on the toilet. I've personally seen at least 20. It's only because she's on TV that they're online."

Pictures. Of friends. On the toilet. Moving on...

"Everyone has incriminating photos of one sort or another, and you never know when it's going to turn around and bite you on the you-know-what. It's a shame you can't just live your life and not have to worry about something like this becoming public."

This from Jacqui Reid, whose daughter took violin lessons from Barba and still considers Barba to be a ... role model.

When did any of this become normal? Incriminating photos? Pictures of friends on the toilet? Half naked in the wonderful tradition of Girls Gone Wild, but mind you, not slutty, pictures posted all over the internet?

Okay...

"Everyone has incriminating photos of one sort or another..."

Well, of course they do. Which reminds me, I should really take all those incriminating pictures of myself off of MY SPACE.

The article concluded with the suggestion that this most recent scandal should make kids stop and think about what they're putting on the internet.

What they're putting on the internet?!

That's just the tip of the iceberg, my friend.

The fact that they don't see anything wrong with taking these pictures in the first place is what I find most disturbing.

Is this normal for kids these days? Take naked pictures of yourself, take pictures of your bodily functions, take pictures of yourself acting like the moron that you are...and be famous on You Tube, My Space, what have you! Voila! Instant fame!

We are raising a bunch of stupid, moronic, greedy, fame crazed, morally retarded individuals who wouldn't know how to behave like civilized, normal humans if you paid them. And mind you, they would only attempt such a feat if you paid them.

I am tired of this. Parents have forgotten how to raise children, they allow the internet to do that for them. Why? Because parents trust their children. Trust? Their brains aren't even fully developed yet and you think putting that amount of trust in them is going to prove something? Kids are stupid. That's what they do. Stop trusting them and find out what they're doing in their free-time.

"I trust you to do the right thing." Trust? You can barely trust adults to do the right thing, let alone a hormone driven, moody, out of control fifteen year old who considers Paris Hilton to be a role model, spends her free-time on My Space, wouldn't know proper grammar for all the IM speak she uses and demands that she have the freedom of a cell phone and a car that you pay for on her sixteenth birthday.

There is no such thing as a boundary anymore, especially not a moral one. It's a free for all. If it makes you feel good and makes others laugh, then by all means, do it.

We've become a society of shmucks, and not a single person seems bothered by it.

Skeptics, oh my!

According to a new documentary about to air on the Discovery Channel, the bones of Jesus Christ and his family (his wife Mary Magdalene, his father Joseph, his son Judah, among others) have been found and supposedly, positively identified in the city of Jerusalem.

What?

No! It can't be! What are you saying? I don't understand! Are you saying my entire belief system has been based on nothing but lies and folklore perpetuated by the early Christian Church to milk me out of my money and provide me with a momentary sense of well-being? Well, then the very foundation on which I live my daily life has been shaken to the core!

*Gasp! Whimper! Sigh!*

Are you people stupid or something?

Anyone who believes this story and allows it to shake their faith obviously had a pretty shaky basis to begin with.

Please. Like this is something new?

Oh no! They're calling the very foundation of Christianity into question...AGAIN! Whatever shall we do? Run away and hide and pretend like we don't hear them?

La-la-la. I can't HEAR you!

Pull yourself together and get a backbone and figure out what you stand for.

Or become an atheist. Whichever is easier.

Mitt Romney

Could someone please explain to me why I hate this man?

I hate him. I don't even know if I can bring myself to say I intensely dislike him because my disgust with him is so irrationally fierce.

Whenever I hear anything about him, I get insanely worked up.

This is all entirely too odd because the man's a Mormon. You would think I'd be the chairman of his campaign.

But no. And in fact, the mere suggestion of such a thing makes me squirmy on oh-so-many levels.

It's gotten so bad, that were it to come down to him and Hilary for the 2008 presidential race, I'd plaster my car with "Hilary for President" bumper stickers and wait impatiently for Bill to take over as First Man.

Favorite hobbies

My coworker and I decided the other day that the two best inventions ever are sleeping and eating. These "inventions" are so great, in fact, that we might just be in the running of referring to them as "hobbies".

Seriously. I see no reason why I shouldn't be hugely obese by now.

Choo-choo

There’s this train. It’s called the marriage train. Everyone I know is on it, and it feels like they’re waiting for me to get on. Especially the boy. It’s like he’s trying to tell me, “This train is pulling away from the station and you’re either on it or your not.”

I don’t want to be on the train. I’m not even very sure I want to leave the station. But I don’t know if that’s an option anymore. If I’m at the station, I’m there for a reason, and that reason is presumably to catch the train. But why would I be there to catch a train I don’t necessarily want to ride on? Maybe I’m just at the station to pick someone up or meet someone there. But nobody ever thinks of that, do they? No. I’m expected to catch the train and get with the program. But I’m afraid if I get on the train, I’m going to panic and step off and get into my tuck and roll position once it’s pulled away from the station.

I don’t think I’m ready to catch this train. I just don’t want to take that train ride yet. Did anyone bother to ask me if I’d rather catch a cab or take a flight or maybe just drive? Maybe that's not open for discussion. Catching that train is just how it’s done. Why would you want to do it any other way?

Name Calling

My boy and I have an unusual way of showing each other affection.

Generally it comes by way of calling each other names.

We've even made it into a game where we come up with as many insulting names as we can, and whoever runs out of insults first, loses.

It goes a little something like this:

"Jerk."

"Moron."

"Idiot."

"Butthead."

And eventually one of us has to either repeat a word or come up with something lame enough to determine the loser.

It's awesome.

Even when we're not playing the game, we're still really good at being mean to each other. We sometimes have conversations like this:

"Shut up. I hate you."

"You shut up. You're such an idiot."

"You're an even bigger idiot."

"Hey, remember that time I loved you? Yeah, pretty sure I'm over it."

"Well, I've been over it for a long time. And I hate you more."

The thing is, I'm not sure we know how to interact with each other without making fun of each other.

I once watched a Dr. Phil with a couple on it who had a habit of calling each other names. They were horrible names, but you've never seen a couple more in love. They were the cutest things ever, and their name-calling was just a way of showing each other affection. Dr. Phil called it "coding" because they used code in communicating with each other.

I guess that's what we do.

I've heard from other couples who are shocked at our behavior, who would never call each other such names, who would never kid around like that. They think it's awful.

I think couples that don't do that...are...honestly? Just a little weird. And really, really boring. If you can't have fun with each other, if you can't joke around...what's the point?

I win

Why do I win and what exactly did I win at?

The Super Bowl.

Duh.

I cheered for the right team...

And the right team won....

Which therefore makes them MY team...

Which by associationg makes me a winner too.

So, I win.

Honestly, though, I gotta say I enjoyed the Super Bowl way more because of the significance it held being Black History Month and all.

The first African American coaches to coach teams in the Super Bowl? That's just awesome. And about time too.

Dish Racks

First of all, is that one word, or two?

Dishracks? Or Dish Racks?

I'm gonna go with the latter...

Not that it matters...

Come to think of it though, do people more commonly refer to them as DRYING racks?

Whatever. I don't. Drying rack sounds so very...Amish.

ANYWAY...I digress. More to the point, is anyone else as annoyed by these as I am?

These annoying little buggars sit on the edge of your sink as holding places for those dishes that need to be dried but cannot be put into the dishwasher.

I gotta say though, they're not very effective holding areas. Specifially for bowls. Sure, they have space for the dishes and the silverware and the glasses, but what about the bowls? Sure, you can lean the bowls haphazardly up against one another, but they don't fit correctly. I would like my bowls to fit correctly into the freakin' dish rack! Why is this so much to ask? Over the how many years that dish racks have been manufactured, has no one ever said, "Hm...how can we make this more convenient? How can we make them more useful? How can we add a space so peoples' bowls fit correctly?"

WHY HAS NO ONE THOUGHT OF THIS????

I suppose the only reason I'm particularly irked by this is because we don't have a dishwasher at our house.

I know. I'll wait for your initial shock and gasping noises to stop before proceeding with my story.

Okay. We never have had a dishwasher.

This has never been an issue for me, really.

I was never ashamed of this fact. I didn't stop inviting friends over so they wouldn't find out my dirty little secret. I didn't know it was a point of embarrassment.

Truth is, I don't understand the point of the dishwasher.

Washing dishes isn't a tough chore. Seriously. I actually find it rather soothing to be honest with you. And I don't understand why people whine about having to "hand-wash" their dishes. Why is this so difficult for some people? It truly takes 5-10 minutes max to do them...and doing them by hand probably gets them much cleaner than sticking them in the dishwasher would.

I've come to despise dishwashers. When I'm visiting my sister I find it ridiculous that they put in a load of dishes to run for an hour, making a heck of a racket, wasting all kinds of energy, and taking much longer than it would if you filled the sink up with dish liquid and did it by hand.

HOW IS THIS MORE CONVENIENT?

Yeah, I get it. We're lazy. Why do dishes when the machines can do it for you?

But back to the whole dish rack thing...all I want is a dish rack that provides room for bowls too. Nice, wide slots to place bowls in...followed by nice narrow ones for plates...those hangy things for the glasses and a basket for the silverware.

I haven't found one of these yet.

Maybe I haven't looked hard enough.

Maybe I need to invent one myself.

But alas, I'm pretty sure it would be obsolete in this "Dishwasher Driven" society we live in.

Seriously

Yeah. I get it. You're part of the 95% of the U.S. population who hate Bush.

Awesome.

Can we please do something more productive with our time now? It's getting a little old.

What, with all this whining, complaining, bashing, and condemnation it's shocking we haven't come up with any solutions.

Wimp

I hate submitting my writing for publication. It scares the crud out of me. Half the time I talk myself out of it before I even do it because I'd rather be spared the rejection of the "Thanks, but no thanks" note.

I am wimp. Hear me whimper.