Saturday, September 12, 2009

Talking Dogs, Boobs, Tubes, and More


It's only 10:35 in the PM, so I still get credit on the west coast for completing my second entry on 9/12. I'm writing with the boob tube on--actually, there are two boob tubes active simultaneously, which means it's like Boob Tube Squared City around here, and yet I'd "bet the farm" (*note aforementioned old fashioned phrase) there's not a top for said boobs or tubes in sight...which reminds me of the strange comment my mom had for me after I sported a few mild tan lines after the rare 80-degree sunny weather yesterday.
"Say, Suz, you need a tube top so you don't get too many lines...". To this I respond like the 14-year-old-girl I've been reduced to these days: "Linda, as if I even OWN a tube top. Please." I have a nasty habit of acting a minimum of 10 years younger than I actually am while I've been here in Cannon Beach with my mom and sister. It's one of those attitudes a person usually only sports in the midst of his or her nuclear family unit. I mean, I could move my pinkie toe in the wrong direction and my sister would proceed to explain how, "You never even TRY to understand where I'm coming from...". Etc, etc. (oh, and by the way, Karen, if you are reading this, everything written is purely for entertainment purposes...not a stitch is true). I think you all know what I mean. Family is "special" that way.

But what I meant to say was...I was just watching this Bush's Baked Beans commercial with the talking dog (there are several) while the Oregon ducks played somebody or other in the OTHER room on the OTHER t.v., and, well, I wondered..."how did I get here? This is not my beautiful borrowed room that my sister and her fiance rent"...and so it goes until the stream-of-consciousness dries up. The "Norton Security advisor" just asked me--nee, ADVISED me, upon punishment of death and/or dismemberment, to RENEW NOW!!! I chose to ignore. This could mean one of two things: I just saved myself $59.95 this year, or "All the Suz" is about to be incinerated in a fire wall or snatched up and infected with the cyber-equivalent of the H1N1.

Who knows?

In which case, it's time to highlight my favorite signs for the arrival of Fall. Two of my favorite tells of this grand season, fall, were experienced by me tonight. First, after a non-runner's run on the beach (I listened to the 90s mix on my iPod, sprinting to the sounds of Nirvana, The Lemonheads, and Pearl Jam), I noticed that after I stopped moving I was actually cold! True, I was wet from splashing a bit in the ocean, but it was authentically chilly! Second, college football! The two colleges I attended had the following mascots: Quakers and Bobcats, and the latter did not have a football team. To make matters worse, since I grew up in Montana, a state with no professional teams to speak of, my passion and loyalty to sports teams is forced at best. I usually just root for the underdog. Needless to say, I don't give a rat's behind about the football season in general, let alone college football. Why do I mention it, then? Oh, I suppose because it makes me cool by being anti-cool...but not really. It's just an observation...and it's all that Suz has seen fit to print!

Question du nuit:

If you were locked in a padded cell with only ONE retro toy to play with, would you pick:

A) Koosh ball
B) Pogo ball
C) Super ball

Poem du nuit:

An excerpt from that dark and wacko poet/artist whose success followed him mostly in death (sounds terrific, right?), William Blake:

Auguries of Innocence

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.


  1. I would say pogo ball but what if it goes flat. I better stick with the koosh.

  2. Oh, I miss pogo balls! How did they not stay popular forever?