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>Three Adjectives

August 22nd, 2009 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, nerds, random

>My friend decided to join a dating site. One of the many irritating tasks to complete her profile involved filling in three adjectives to describe yourself.

“What do you think of whiny, judgmental, and anxious?” she asked me.

After I picked myself up from the floor of the Indian restaurant (I had fallen off my chair laughing – almost not an exaggeration), I told her that I thought it was brilliant. “It’s honest – although I do not think you are whiny – and intriguing. It seems like only people who get it, and thus get you, would respond.” (Incidentally, I initially suggested that she use generous, intelligent, vibrant. OK, I actually said zestful, but she pointed out that sounds like a soap commercial, and just thought of vibrant now. Lively could also work. I still sort of like zestful, even if it is sudsy.)

Then I thought about what three adjectives I would use to describe myself. I realized that I would have to steal two out of three of her words because they are so true for me – judgmental and anxious. My third would be petty. I could substitute spastic or stressed for anxious and mocking for judgmental if I was forced to, but anxious and judgmental are just so perfect. Obsessive could also be a good choice. (If also forced to choose three positive ones, I would opt for entertaining, wonky, chatty.)

I hate ending blog posts by posing a question, but what three adjectives would you choose?

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>Exploiting My Weakness for Laughs

July 12th, 2009 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in nerds, random

>My friend Jennifer is a multi-talented performer who just moved to New York from San Francisco. I went to see her tonight in a stand-up comedy show, where I thought she was clearly the best comedian until a guy got up and found my Achilles heel.

“When you were in high school, all you wanted was dick, right?” he asked me.

“Uh, no,” I said.

“Really? Are you a lesbian?”

(Heaving big internal sigh.) “No, but everyone thinks I am.”

“It’s the short hair cut,” he said, then paused. “Actually, you look a lot like Jane Wiedlin. You got that pixie thing going on.”

Swoooooooon. I don’t care that he was not nearly as funny as Jennifer. From then on, whatever he said, I laughed. Hard and loud. I wished I wore makeup. I am such a sucker.

My Celebrity Lookalike and Me
Jane Wiedlin Suzanne

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>Is Sarah Palin a C Word? A Scholarly Consideration of the Issue

October 14th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in Asshole idiots, hilarity, nerds, What is wrong with people?

>On one of the many sites on which I’ve been devouring political discussions lately, a self-identified PUMA* was irritated that no one decried an Obama supporter who wore a t-shirt that read “Sarah Palin is a cunt” to a recent rally. To which my first thought was, “Well, she is a cunt, so why would I get my knickers in a bunch?” Then I felt a little bad, since I would probably be furious if someone wore a shirt like that with Hillary Clinton’s name. Except that HRC is not really a cunt, so that’s why I would be so irate. (Bill Clinton, however, is another story.)

Perhaps, I wondered, was I being unfair because I loathe Sarah Palin’s evil social policies? Only an impartial and wise source could settle the matter for me. I whipped out my trusty slang dictionary, Slang and Euphemism: A Dictionary of Oaths, Curses, Insults, Ethnic Slurs, Sexual Slang and Metaphor, Drug Talk, College Lingo, and Related Matters (2nd Revised Edition) by Richard A. Spears. (“College lingo?” Seriously?) It read:

cunt (see also c*nt, c**t, c***,****,—-) 1. the female genitals, specifically the vagina. [said to be from Latin CUNNUS (q.v.)] 2. women considered sexually. 3. copulation [in numerous spellings since the 1300s] The word was banned from print in much of the British Empire until the middle of this century, and it is the most elaborately avoided word in the English language. There are numerous dimunitives: CUNNICLE, CUNTKIN, CUNTLET, CUNNY. Avoidances are: INEFFABLE, MONOSYLLABLE, NAME-IT-NOT, NAMELESS. Disguises are: GRUMBLE AND GRUNT, SHARP AND BLUNT, SIR BERKLEY HUNT, TENUC, UNTCAY. See MONOSYLLABLE for additional synonyms. 4. a rotten fellow; a low, slimy man. [colloquial, 1800s-pres.] 5. to intromit the penis. [attested in a limerick, late 1800s] See also DECUNT.

Whew! That didn’t entirely clear the matter up for me, but I believe that she meets definitions 1 (she is certainly interested enough in what comes out of other women’s vaginas, anyway), 3 and 5 (she is totally going to screw us if she gets into the VP’s office). Hence, Sarah Palin is, in fact, a cunt, and the t-shirt is accurate. Perhaps, however, anti-Palinites might want to wear shirts reading, “Sarah Palin is a monosyllable” to confuse her supporters and avoid controversy. (Plus, “monosyllable” is a great double-entendre in this case.)

Wasn’t this fun? Not only did I learn interesting facts about my grandmother’s favorite word (I love that she hates the word “fuck,” but will cheerfully spew out a word that is otherwise “the most elaborately avoided word in the English language”), but also that I run against popular sentiment in my embrace of the word cunt.

*A group of the Clinton supporters who are possibly the sorest losers in political history.

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>Don’t Shoot!

September 8th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in nerds

>Although I like pretending that I am a scary bear, I am really just a big nerd in a moderately-sized woman’s body. The little seal next to me is a snow sculpture.* I fear that with the recent discussion of Gov. Sarah Palin’s love of hunting, people might accidentally blow us away with an AK-47 while hunting for wolves from helicopters. I just want to be clear that I am not, in fact, a scary bear.

Speaking of bears, Theo enjoyed his guest post stint this past Thursday so much that I decided to create a new feature called Theo Thursdays. Every Thursday until the election (or until Palin drops out), Theo will post an environmental message on CUSS. He is very excited about this opportunity and hopes you will enjoy it. We both hope that it will not need to continue after early November because Barack Obama will be our next president.

Speaking of bloody “sports,” anyone who is interested in submitting an essay for a potential anthology about periods has until September 15 to do so. Check out Congratulations, You’re a Woman Now! for details. I think it will be an awesome book along the lines of Sleep is for the Weak. We want to capture a diverse range of stories and experiences, so please spread the word.

*This photo was shot in Cooperstown, NY in February 2005. Husband and I went up there to celebrate our 10th anniversary of being together. I think it is clear that we are well suited for each other, as only crazy people go to freezing Cooperstown in February. We thought it would be fun to participate in their winter carnival and also see the Baseball Hall of Fame, though. As part of the carnival, we took a walking tour across a frozen lake, which was awesome. At the Hall of Fame, I posed for a picture with Curt Schilling’s bloody sock. (I hoped that the pig who “donated” his/her ligament to Schilling’s ankle would also be honored, but the museum seems to discriminate against non-human baseball heroes.) We had a great time.

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>Yurts!

September 5th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, nerds, random

>Assuming that I’m not planning a new life in a foreign country after election day, Husband and I are heading to California for an end-of-the-year trip. The scheme is to fly to Los Angeles on Christmas Day, spend two-ish days wandering amongst the bronzed and the implanted, then drive up to Ventura to hang out with Suebob on my birthday. From there, we shall continue up the coast, stopping in Solvang (“Scandinavian” tourist trap), Pismo Beach, and San Luis Obispo (Bubblegum Alley!!!), and taking a night tour of Hearst Castle. A search of the internets for a place to stay near Hearst Castle made me gasp.

“Yurts!”

“What?” Husband asked. “Are you OK?”

I sprang up from the couch. “OH MY GOD!!!!! We can stay in a yurt!”

Husband’s face transformed into a question mark. I sighed. “You know – a yurt!” Except that he obviously didn’t know. “It’s a part tent, part solid building thing,” I expounded.

“Why do you know this?”

Good question. I have no idea why I know what a yurt is. Although Husband then accused my family of being a roving hippie clan, we never went anywhere more exotic than Burbank to visit my great uncle and great aunt. It’s always interesting to try and trace back to when you first learned about something, and I’m drawing a complete blank on the yurt. The only explanation I can up with is that I must have read about it somewhere. Yurts are hardly common in the suburbs of Chicago, so I’ve certainly never seen one. However it worked its way into my subconscious, I am psyched for our yurt stay.

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>Mountatin Greetings!

July 30th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, nerds

>Hello from the parking lot of a closed cafe that is broadcasting a Wi-Fi signal. I hope that I can finish this quick post before Alex and I are arresting for looking suspicious. Before we left the house, I made a joke that we would look like drug dealers, but when we pulled into the lot and found two young men sitting in their car with the engine running, this ceased to be funny. So now I hope that we are not killed for interfering with a drug deal rather than be arrested on the suspicion of selling drugs.

Anyway, the week has been both eventful and relaxing thus far. On Friday, we arrived, discovered that no one received cell phone service at the house we rented, set up shop, and at 1 am, the power went out. Husband was not a Boy Scout, but he is always prepared, so we had lots of flashlights on hand. For about an hour, my brother-in-law wandered around with a butcher knife to protect us from intruders, although I repeatedly said he was more likely to stab one of us or fall on the knife himself. He then moved on to panicking about carbon monoxide poisoning before going to bed.

Saturday we hung around the pool and in the hot tub. My friend told us a story about a guy she knew in college who contracted “cunnilingus jaw” when a woman had an orgasm and clamped her thighs very tightly around his face. From then on, he could predict whether rain was on the way based on how his cunnilingus jaw tingled.

Sunday we headed over to the Green County Youth Fair. This is the one event I talked about for weeks. I love seeing the champion rabbits at fairs. The plan was to leave at 11:30, but departure was pushed back to noon. Then Husband randomly ran off tot the grocery store, leaving me to fume and stuff my face with ice cream. We finally took off, caravan style, at 1:00 and arrived at the fair an hour later to find it closed due to weather conditions. It seems a tornado blew through a nearby area. I whipped up a little cyclone of anger at that news. So it goes.

Monday we headed over to a bizarre zoo and petting farm. Amongst the goats, sheep, and horses were a kangaroo, monkeys, emus, a bison, and camels. The poor rabbits and guinea pigs were completely traumatized by all the little hands that grabbed at them in the petting area. I decided that when I move to London, we should get a guinea pig. Husband stared at me in horror.

I can’t believe that I survived for several days without internet access! I am so proud of myself. Until the weekend…

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>The Crazy Lady on the Street

June 9th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in nerds

>Because I wanted to save $2 by not taking the bus 16 blocks to Whole Foods, I walked. This was OK for the way down, which mainly involved carrying my water bottle and the little cooler I planned to put my frozen goods in so that they would not cook on my way back home. I also stopped at the post office and picked up a flat rate priority mail box for some shoes that I am selling on eBay.

My return trip was a bit more complicated. By removed the frozen chicken & apple sausages I purchased from the bulky outer box (they are also in plastic bags), I fit all three packages into the cooler. I then removed the pound of ripe red strawberries from the plastic container and put them in one of those plastic veggie bags. They then nicely fit in the cooler as well. The spinach, red onion, blueberry, and goat cheese side salad, however, was just big enough that the cooler would not close all the way. So I took Tycho’s carrots (complete with green tops – his favorite part) out of their plastic veggie bag, put the salad in it so that leaks would be somewhat contained, and threw it in my mini backpack. Then I took off with the flat box tucked into my left armpit and under my left arm, the water bottle in my left hand, and the carrots balanced on the cooler, which I held in my right hand.

Even without the wide brimmed straw hat that ties under my chin with black ribbon – necessary on a slightly windy and blazingly sunny day like today, but making me look like a deranged version of Little Bo Peep – I would have looked like one of those homeless people wandering around with their random possessions. At least I didn’t wear my hot pink sunglasses with mirrored lenses a la the ’80s.

Before I was even half way home, a rivulet of sweat that began on my upper, upper thigh reached my ankle, and the carrot tops wilted. This did not stop a normal looking woman from asking me if I knew where Bed, Bath, and Beyond was located. (I did, and pointed it out to her.) Perhaps her own good judgment was affected by the heat.

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>The Price is Right, But Who Cares?

April 4th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, I am a bad person sometimes, nerds, random

>Between running down to the basement to do laundry and vacuuming, I’m half-watching The Price is Right. My sister and I utterly adored this show when we were kids. As interactive viewers, we were not content with merely shouting advice at the TV’s contestants. We also pretended that we were related to them.

“Bid $600 on the washing machine!” we’d yell at little white haired ladies. “Yay Grandma!”

Today, I’m not nearly as involved. It helps that Drew Carey is not such an inspiring host. In addition, it occurred to me a few years ago that most of the prizes are complete fucking crap that no one needs, and most likely does not even have space for in their homes. One of the Showcase Showdown packages included a cafe-style cappuccino machine and a spa/whirlpool thing that seats 4-6. The pudgy guy who was forced to bid on it managed to look excited, which I think likely makes him an excellent actor. Cast that man in a TV show or movie, pronto! That man has talent!

Watching The Price is Right back in the day when Plinko was new, my sister and I dreamed of someday attending the show. Now I know this will never happen. Even if I did get on, there is no way I could pretend to want a grand piano. The producers likely try and avoid contestants who would make faces, and say, “No thanks,” although I think California law allows game show winners to take the cash equivalent instead of the prize. If that is the case, I’d jump up and down, shriek, and giggle. I gotta pay to do my laundry some way, you know. ($11.20 for four loads!!!)

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>Beware the Words of Shakespeare

March 15th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in hilarity, nerds, random

>Double double boil and trouble, the Ides of March are upon us. Friends, romans, countrymen, lend me your years, for I have a tale of woe. If brevity is the soul of wit, then unsex me now so I may accomplish my goal. (OK, that sort of made no sense, but run with me here.)

“If music be the food of love, play on,” I thought to myself when I woke up with a hungry look this morning. I headed into the kitchen and while microwaving a mug of water for tea, I thought I should do some dishes and put the dry ones away. “Out damned, spot,” I mumbled as I took a gander at a tea-stained mug.

As it is important to rotate the stock so that the same dishes don’t always go on the top of the stack and be reused over and over again while the ones at the bottom never see the light of day, I lifted a stack of plates and shoved the clean ones under them. Alas, poor Yorick, this caused 10 little plates to fall.

Hath not a Jew eyes? Yes, and that is why I nearly wept at the broken dishes and shards that covered the kitchen floor. Two plates, gone. Parting is such sweet sorrow. Out with the vacuum while the tea sits getting cold.

(Wherefore art thy Romeo? I didn’t want him to come into the kitchen barefoot, lest I missed some sharp pieces. Oh, yeah. He’s in Europe for work, not coming back until tomorrow. By then, I’ll be away with my sister and brother-in-law, so get thee to a nunnery! At least until we are reunited on Sunday the 23rd.)

When the hurleyburley’s done, I finally settled down to eat a chocolate Vitamuffin, a dish fit for the gods. Can one desire too much of a good thing? As I greedily ate the muffin, I managed to smear chocolate everywhere – on the table, the newspaper I was reading, and on myself. As good luck would have it, this mess looked repulsive, but was easy to clean. I went on my merry wives of Windsor way, and so the day goes.

Et tu, Brute? May you have an excellent Ides.

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>Call Me the Morton Salt Girl

February 7th, 2008 by Suzanne | No Comments | Filed in nerds

>You know, when it rains, it pours? (Plus my language is certainly salty.) I went from worrying that I’d never have paid employment again to having more project offers that I can possibly calendar, but will anyway. Of course, some of the will likely fall by the wayside, so I likely won’t be overbooked when the dust settles. And some of the things I hope will disappear, as they are for projects that drive me insane. (Those are the ones that I have to charge a lot for, as I need to build a legal defense fund in the event that I go batshit and throttle someone. Good lawyers cost a lot of money, although I suspect that any jury will grant me an insanity plea when they hear the details of some of this work.)

Yesterday, I went back to a due diligence gig from a few weeks ago. Mostly the work is boring financial analysis, so the hard parts are staying awake and getting all the data that I need. Gathering information from people is like removing a thorn from the paw of a lion. It only helps them in the end to let me extract what I need, but everyone acts like I’m asking them to sacrifice their first born. To make things easier, I even put together a chart for each organization in which they can just fill in the blanks. What is returned to me in nearly every case is a chart they designed that has different information in it. Yeah. If they don’t have the info, they could save themselves hours by just telling me that instead of putting together of info that I won’t use, which is why I didn’t ask for it in the first place.

Today I had taught my first class at a university. It is a one credit, four week class at the City University about basic budgeting for child care businesses. I was very pleased. My goal is to help people learn this extremely boring shit in an entertaining way. I don’t know if anyone learned anything this morning, but they were entertained, so I feel successful. Teaching is good. I should rustle up some other work like this in the future. The class ends at the end of the month.

Anyway, that’s where my time has been going. Tomorrow I am over-the-top excited to go to Sacramento for Count Mockula’s baby shower. I can’t wait to see her and meet her family and friends. Since this exciting journey was brought to me by a voucher Husband had for a free flight, I will be flying in to San Francisco, taking BART to Richmond, then taking Amtrak to Sacramento. Weirdly, I find this more appealing than what I initially tried to book (but was denied by the airline), which was a flight to Dallas with a connection to Sacramento. Both methods require a full day of travel each way, which is sort of funny. The point is, I’m working a lot now, and I can’t wait to play.

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