Please bookmark the correct page at http://suzannadanna.net/ Princess of Irony

Yeah, I just linked Fabio to the Bible.

Issue Date: Wednesday, Aug. 18, 2004

There are a bunch of things that I have been convinced of at one point or another. Most of these things are completely daft and moronic, but alas, my aim is to share them with you good people.

When I was young I was convinced that if you tinkled in the toilet, and then someone else had to pee too, and tinkled on top of yours, that the toilet would blow up. Imagine my immense fear at having to use port-a-potties and out houses. I was also pretty dubious about the toilets on airplanes, I was certain that they had to expel the “double pee” into the atmosphere lest the plane crash into the earth as a fire-y ball.

Samson was hot. HAWT! With all of those rippling muscles and long, flowing (and also rippling) Old Testament hair. He was the pre-Fabio Fabio… of… the… Bible… or something like that. Yeah, I just linked Fabio to the Bible. And, yes, I do believe that is grounds for going to hell.

I used to believe that if I stayed still long enough in the forest that I could actually commune with nature. And when I say commune with nature, my crazy ass means, talk to the animals. With. My. Mind. Yeah, this went over well. Hey, Young Doctor Doolittle, get a clue, will ya? Being a lover of animals is all well and good but when you are riding a horse and trying to command the thing to “Hi Ho Silver!” or some shit… with your mind, you’re at least a small bucket of crazy. Or if you are (and I was) trying to calm an agitated snake that was beginning to shed with a mental chant of “Relax, Relax, Relax…” you’re at least a small bucket of crazy.

I have tried this with people too. For example, Mister and his headaches. I have actually been conceited enough to think that I could draw out the pain using concentration, calming, massaging motions and sheer will. I think I actually made them worse, poor guy.

I have actually been so worried about what I looked like that I would spend an inordinately long period of time making sure that my eyelashes (if they hadn’t fallen out from stress that month) were perfectly curled, mascara’d and without a clump in sight. I have been known to use a straight pin or a safety pin to go between each eyelash to make sure it was not sticking to it’s brother. And I don’t care who you are, if you have a safety pin that close to your eyeball, it ain’t safe. I thought that people cared. I thought that that little attention to detail (or strange and morbid obsession, you choose) would single me out to someone as special. Or as Big Bucket of Crazy with complete and Utter Vanity problem mixed with OCD and Neediness…? Again, you choose.

I actually thought that I could sneak out of my house in the middle of the night when I was a teenager and not get caught. Heh. Yeah, this was a rich one. My father (wisely) planted a holly bush in front of my first floor, bedroom window. I decided to not let that deter my efforts to sneak out with my friends from school or from my church group, or my very misguided (and very short) boyfriend. I would sneak out the laundry room window or any window I could. But my favorite was going out the window that let out onto the porch by the pool. It was the quietest. This gave me the added benefits of having to squeeze my skinny ass through a window and between the window and the patio furniture sofa that was on the porch (that window didn't have a screen). I would then mosey to the side yard and hop the fence, walk to the neighborhood pool, cross the pipe and meet everyone on the bike trail, smoke a few cigarettes, try and act like I was cool and not trying to look like I was trying to act like I was cool [you know what I mean?], talk about mundane bullshit that we could have discussed on the phone… annnnnnd scene. Back to the house, jump the fence, shimmy through the flaming hoops and obstacles and slip quietly into the house. So very quietly. Creeping down the hallway to my bedroom and jumping out of my fucking skin when my mother says calmly, so very calmly (that was the scary part), “Did you have fun tonight? You better hope you did, because that is the last fun you will be having for a loooong time.”

Yeah, we went through this song and dance several times throughout my middle, junior and high school career. I was like a Houdini dog. One of those escape artist puppies that just gets out of the house just to see that they can. Stupid.

I thought that $20,000.00 was a huge salary when I first graduated from college.

I had a notion that if someone was petting me (oh hell, I still do this)… say Mister was petting me, stroking my back or gently pulling the ends of my hair… that if I stayed still, oh, so still… that he would keep petting me indefinitely until I moved and reminded him that he was petting me, causing him to stop.

Whoops… time to go… I just realized that I have to get to the house and get changed. Mister and I are meeting Marigold Mind at Luna de Noche tonight for dinner then we are going to the Magnolia to see Garden State. My Zach Braff love will not be denied. :)

I may keep this little thread going, it is pretty interesting.

Speak up with your notions via the comments section.

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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