Okay, kids, this is what is going to happen.

I’m moving over to Blogger for a while.  Now I know that Blogger is no WordPress, but if I signed up for this whole AdSense thing, I might as well try it out.  I don’t know how long I’ll be over there, I may just come back, or I might just try something completely different…

But in the meantime, you can find me here:  I’ll keep you posted on any further developments.

Over n’ out, kids.  I’ll catch ya on the flip side.


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Filed under Blogging Peeps, Blogroll

Of Grizzlies, Little Midget Closet Dwellers, and Spontaneous Chess Challenges

I have a problem I’m assuming many women are familiar with.  I’ve tried to hide it, deny it, overcome it.  No matter what I do, no matter the drastic actions I take, it seems to be a habit, an obsession I cannot conquer on my own.  I’m horribly embarrassed by it, ashamed of it, and do my best to distract people from noticing it.

My name is Sue and I’m an over-packer.

I can’t stop myself.  I have tried.  I tell myself to close the suitcase and just walk away.  Five minutes later I’m opening it back up and adding another fifteen outfits, seven more pairs of underwear, argyle socks that I’ve never worn in my life, a couple of belts (I don’t wear belts), a graphing calculator, a day planner from 2003, JCPenney’s Christmas Catalog (um, it’s May), a swimsuit (even in February), my high school yearbook from 1999, and a bottle of cooking oil.

Okay, so maybe I exagerrated slightly.  But I swear to you, it is almost that bad.

Say the husband and I have to take a quick trip overnight somewhere.  He throws some things into a backpack.  Me?  I pull out my small-sized suitcase and proceed to pack 5 outfits, 2 sets of pajamas, about 9 changes of underwear and 7 pairs of socks, 3 pairs of shoes, everything that I currently store in the bathroom (and I mean EVERYTHING), a couple of books, a board game, my swimsuit (REALLY?  JUST IN CASE?!  WHEN YOU HAVEN’T BEEN SWIMMING SINCE 2005?!), and maybe a notebook or two.

I swear to you… I.  CANNOT.  STOP.

There’s this compulsion to pack EVERYTHING for EVERY POSSIBLE SCENARIO no matter how SILLY, how LUDICROUS, how UNNECESSARY it may be.  I would have made a frickin’ AWESOME girlscout.  I mean, really?  Always be prepared?  You bet your BIPPY I’m prepared.


Why am I packing a travel sized chess set?  Um, you never know when you may be challanged to a game of chess.  Are you going to stand there all like, “Uh, oh, um, I don’t think I have a chess set on me.”?  I think NOT.  You come prepared to whup somebody’s you-know-what when they challenge you to a game of chess, not stand there like a fool.

Why am I packing a bear trap?  Um, HELLO?!  GRIZZLIES?!  Have you not heard of these monsters?  And don’t tell me any of this mumbo jumbo about “Only in the Pacific Northwest and Canada and Alaska.”  What, they’re gonna come to the border of Minnesota, stop, reconsider, and turn around because they supposedly don’t roam the wilds of Minnesota?!  These are crafty animals my friends.  To heck with borders, they don’t care about borders.  If they wanna visit Minnesota, they’re gonna do what they gosh darn please.  And Sue will be THE ONLY person ready for them.

Why am I packing my bonzai tree and my goldfish?  Um, HELLO?!  I can’t exactly water them and feed them WHILE I’M AWAY, now can I?!  NO.  So, I’m going to be responsible, TAKE THEM WITH, and ensure that they receive the proper care and attention they deserve.  DUH.

Why am I packing my computer monitor?  REALLY?!  Uh… maybe because I don’t want the little midget closet dwellers getting their hands on it while I’m away so they can sell it on the black market for a pretty penny?!  HM?!  EVER THINK OF THAT?!  NO!  YOU DID NOT!  BECAUSE, YOU, MY FRIEND, ARE UNPREPARED.

You know, you can judge me, you can mock me, you can ridicule and point fingers and laugh and talk behind my back, but remember this…

Sue is ALWAYS prepared.

I don’t care how long it takes to get the luggage out to the car, or how heavy or bulky the suitcase is…

I’m prepared.  And you will thank me when you win your chess game, you escape that hungry grizzly, you preserve the life of your goldfish and bonsai tree and save your computer monitor from an untimely demise.

Underpacking equals stupidity, my friends.

And apparently, I win the prize for “Most Brilliant.”


Filed under humor, randomness

It’s a Small World After All…

Today my boredom reached a new low.  Or high.  Depending on how you look at it.

Anyway, I’m sitting at my computer, cross-referencing products on the store’s Website, when it happens.

Before I can stop myself, my hands have taken on a life of their own. 

And they began, um… talking to each other.

Actually, they were singing to each other.  “It’s a Small World After All” was the song of choice.

The left sang Soprano, my right sang Tenor.  They were pretty good considering I’VE LOST MY FRICKIN’ MIND.

I was a few minutes into my performance before I actually realized what I was doing and the absurdity of it all.

I thought it was bad enough that I was keeping myself entertained with Facebook’s “Farm Town”.  Now I’m having a puppet show with my hands???

Not that it’s unusual to have puppet shows with one’s hands.  What else would you have one with?  Your feet?  Your elbows?  Your nostrils?  The problem here was that I didn’t even have costumes for my hands (probably because it wasn’t an actual puppet show…) so it just turned out to be a crazy lady having her hands talk (no, sing) to one another.

I think I need a job.  One where I have to leave the house.  One where I have to interract with people on a daily basis.  One where I could get fired for putting on a puppet show during business hours.

Good grief.  How do the self-employed and stay-at-home Moms do it?


Filed under humor, randomness, work

The “Ick” Factor

Please note:  If you are particularly prudish and find it unseemly to discuss undergarments, you may want to skip this post.  Because it is about just that.  Underwear.  Just so you know.

Normally, I wouldn’t dedicate an entire blog post to ugly undergarments, but since I have nothing better to talk about, I’m writing a blog post on ugly undergarments.

Specifically, thongs.

Who invented thongs?  Who thought it would be a good idea to leave our butt cheeks exposed while we… flossed… down there?  HM?  REALLY?

I bet it was a man.

A sick, twisted, slightly frightening man who thought it’d be hot.  Who thought it’d be better than seeing panty lines as he stared at the butts of women passing through the park while he sat on his lonely little bench eating his butter and blogna sandwich.


What’s the big deal about panty-lines anyway?  I mean, unless you’re wearing a slinky dress where panty lines would just be tacky, I don’t know what the big deal is.  So what.  People see your panty-lines.  People know you’re wearing underwear.


Personally, I think I feel more secure with the thought that people KNOW I’m wearing undies than THINKING that I’m goin’ all commando underneath.

I mean, ew.  The only thing worse than wearing a thong is wearing nothing at all.

But then again, a thong doesn’t exactly cover much.  Seriously.  Shoving a Kleenex down your pants would be just as effective.  And  I mean, COME-ON.  Show of hands.  Who HASN’T gotten a wedgie while wearing a thong?  Yeah.  It’s impossible NOT to get a wedgie while wearing a thong.

Do you realize where that thong sits all day? 

EW!!!  What’s the point, people?

It’s not sexy, it’s not comfortable, it’s purpose is silly and the execution is flawed.

I’ve had girlfriends try to talk me into using them.  I always refused.  And honestly, not to be mean, but I always looked at those girls a little differently after I found out they were pro-thong.

(Insert full body shiver here.)

The person that came up with this concept should be shot.  For no other reason than the fact that their idea was just “icky”.

Very.  ICKY.


Filed under randomness

Coffee and Communion

Remember back a couple of months when I talked about having found a new church?  A church that seemed just perfect for us?  A church I felt extraordinarily happy about?

Yeah.  I’m not really sure I’m there anymore. 

Quirky little things have been bothering me about this new place.  And I realize that no church is perfect, but these quirky little things are starting to become majorly bothersome. 

If it just weren’t for their coffee and communion…

This place is obsessed with their coffee.  I don’t know why.  I understand people like their coffee, but must we incorporate it into the church service?

When we first started attending this church their coffee bar (which was full of all kinds of free coffee and coffee-like drinks) was placed right there in the sanctuary.  Granted, it was in the back and off to the side, but it was still IN the sanctuary.  People would get up at all times during the service to fetch themselves a refill.  The place reeked of all things coffee-related.  I thought it was a little weird, but the church was small.  Tiny, in fact.  And well, if they wanted their coffee, and they had no place else to serve it, then what was the big deal?  Still, it kinda bothered me.  I mean, did it have to be right THERE, in the SANCTUARY?
(By the way, that entire previous paragraph is NOT supposed to be italicized.  WordPress is currently being retarded.)

Now the church has moved into a new facility, a facility large enough so that the coffee bar is in the foyer and not the sanctuary.  Yet, the entire staff is encouraging people to get up at any point during the service and help themselves to more.  Don’t worry about it, they said.  It doesn’t bother the pastor in the least, if you need your coffee, then by all means, get up and get your coffee. 

Now, maybe I’m just being picky, but um… shouldn’t the focus during the service be on GOD and not your need for another STUPID COFFEE REFILL?!  I mean, aren’t your priorities a little screwy if you’re more concerned about the dwindling amount of coffee in your cup than what you’re hearing about in the sermon?  Call me crazy, but this isn’t a coffee shop, people.  It’s a place of worship.  Get your coffee before, get your coffee later, but for Pete’s Sake, once the service starts, sit down, shut up and get your focus where it’s supposed to be.  (And in case anyone is wondering, it’s not on your COFFEE.)

Also, this chuch doesn’t serve communion.  Nope.  Not so much.  It’s more of a “self serve” sort of situation when it comes to communion.  They have the tables set up in the back of the sanctuary with the bread and the wine (or the grape juice, if you will).  It’s sort of a “do it yourself” communion situation.  You can get up at any time during the worship service and take the communion in remembrance of what Jesus accomplished on the cross for us.  The worship leaders do specify, however, that you need not be a member of the church, but you should be saved and have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ before partaking in the communion.

This is all well and good, and maybe I’m getting to be a bit of a traditionalist here, but…  why can’t they just do it the same way churches have been doing it for centuries in which the pastor or priest leads the congregation in the taking of communion?  Now, maybe people want to take it in their own time at their own pace but… it feels more… appropriate?…  to have the pastor lead the congregation in the prayer and scriptural readings so that what communion really is and means can be clearly defined.

Am I just being picky here?  Silly?  Critical?  Whiny?

It just bothers me.  Sometimes I feel like churches are so busy trying to make church into an “entertainment experience”, trying to kow-tow to the silly wants, needs and demands of the world around us, trying to entice non-believers into the whole experience by offering coffee and treats and loud music and flashing lights and smoke and mirrors… that somehow… God gets lost in the shuffle.  Is this about God?  Or is it about what everyone else wants?  Does anyone stop to ask, “Are we honoring God with this or are we just creating a distraction?”

I’m not saying church needs to be boring, full of old hymns and liturgy, so lacking in life and inspiration that it would bore the most devout Christian to tears.  But could we possibly get the focus back to where it’s supposed to be?  Which is, in case we’ve forgotten… is GOD?! 

Meh.  Maybe I’ll feel differently next week, maybe I won’t.  (Okay, I’m fairly certain I won’t.)  I don’t mean to say this church is wrong… after all, who am I to say what they should and should not do?  But it just might be that the church is wrong for me.  We’ll see.


Filed under Christianity, religion, spirituality

Bor. Ing.

I’ve noticed a disturbing trend about the blog posts I’ve been writing recently.

They’re all so…


I don’t mean for them to be boring.  I don’t think I’m a boring person.  But at this point in time, my life is certainly boring.

I mean, how much fun is it to talk about how I sat in front of a computer screen all day and never left the apartment.

Woo-hoo, Sue.  Tell us more.

I mean, I work from home for crying out loud.  I don’t think I’m going to enthrall my audience with details of my day like… I didn’t shower or change out of my pajamas until 4:30… didn’t start work until noon…. didn’t even roll out of bed until 11:30 (which in my defense was perfectly understandable considering the evening I had had the night before).  I didn’t put on a smidgen of makeup, didn’t really do my hair either.  Managed to make supper… that’s saying something… but really, my day revolves around working on the computer, running errands and doing chores around the apartment.

Again, woo-hoo.  I’m 26 years old.  Shouldn’t my life be a bit more exciting than this?  I mean, if it’s going to be THIS bad, shouldn’t I just add some ankle biters to the mix to keep me on my toes? 


Really, my escapades on Facebook or who sent me an e-mail or what sort of coupons showed up in my mailbox or whose call I missed on my cell phone really aren’t worthy of writing about.

Which is PRECISELY WHY I am writing about it now…  Ahem.

Seriously.  I’m sorry, you guys.  At least when I was working retail I had some great stories to share about the stupid, dumb, ugly and obnoxious customers.  Now, the only stories I can share with you are about what I had on my sandwich for lunch, what I caught on the TV and how I managed to giggle myself to tears simply because I was bored and afraid I’d have nothing else to do.

I.  Rock.

Anyone have any suggestions on what I can post about?  Because really.  This is just getting too lame.


Filed under randomness, work


And so here we are again, my friends.  It is now 4:23 in the morning and I’m sitting on my living room couch watching tonight’s episode of “Wife Swap”, which was DVRed earlier in the evening.

I should be sleeping.  I’m exhausted.  I didn’t get much sleep last night and I was crazy-busy all day today, and yet…

I can’t seem to sleep.

I had every intention of falling asleep when I climbed into bed 2 and a half hours ago… but the apartment kept creaking and shifting and making all kinds of noise… until my imagination began to run wild and pretty soon…

I’m sobbing in the hallway while my husband tries to calm me down, and convince me I didn’t hear someone talking in the hallway.


Just for the record, feeling panicked and scared is the worst feeling in the world.

If I had to live alone… well, pretty much I’m not entirely sure you’d be able to get me to live on my own.

Joel, thankfully, doesn’t get scared by anything.  Anything.  Ever.  He’s so calm and rational and reassuring… it’s awesome.  But here I am, blubbering on the couch, asking him if he HAS to go to work tomorrow… why he can’t just call in sick… otherwise, how am I supposed to sleep during the day in this big, old, creaky apartment?

He finally went to bed (with my blessing since he has to be up in another 3 hours or so…) and I settled on the couch with my pillow, my bunny (shut it), my laptop and my remotes.  After an episode of “The Jetson’s”, I settled on tonight’s episode of “Wife Swap”… and here I sit.

I wish I weren’t like this.  I really do.  You have no idea how miserable it can be when your own imagination prevents you from sleeping.  Your body tells you to sleep and yet every noise, every thought of every noise, suggests something to the contrary.

Bwah.  I’m so tired I feel like I could melt.

I’m going to dry to rest my eyes here on this couch here.  We’ll see how that goes.

Over n’ out, kiddies. 

Stupid, right?  I know.


Filed under frustrations, randomness