Sugar scrubs and sillies

Posted on July 21, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

There’s something about glitter that makes me giggly, silly and magic drunk.   Glitter, we have decided, was invented by faeries.

As my witchy friends would say, “Obviously.”

Tonight I made three batches of scrubs.   Sugar scrubs in themselves are delightful.   Sugar scrubs made with a touch of magic are, well, magical.

I made pink grapefruit.   And the giggles started.
Then I made lavender.  I should have done that one last, because it’s calming and it settled me down a bit.   Even though the color is a bit like a bilious blueberry, it smells delicious and feels heavenly on my hands.

And I decided to make pink lemonade scrubs.   They’re so cute!  Just the sweetest little pink sparkly jars of lemony yummyness.

Note to self – don’t take the thingie out of the essential oil bottles.   Just don’t.   Not a good idea.  Nope, not at all.

So there I was, all magic drunk, and no one awake to help me get grounded.   Whew, that was fun.
Yeah, I’m still giddy.

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If it isn’t quilted……..

Posted on June 30, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

It isn’t a quilt

So stop calling it a quilt when it’s a comforter.   Calling it a quilt is an insult, a denigration of the countless hours I’ve spent,  hunched over a table, making tiny stitches by hand, in a piece lovingly put together – and sewing love into every stitch.   It’s an insult to the blood I’ve shed from pricking my finger.
Anyone can sew two pieces of fabric together with something in between.  It takes very little skill to do that.   To stitch those pieces together with needle and thread – that takes a bit of talent.   And perseverance.  And love.

Yes, I’m a curmudgeon.  But you don’t call a Mercedes just a car.

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I am white

Posted on June 23, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

I am also a woman

I am married

I am 62 years old

I am the youngest child of five girls

I am no more ashamed of being white than I am ashamed of being a woman, married, 62 or the youngest of five.

I’m not proud of any of those things, either.

Were they a toss of the dice, a lottery win, as our president terms it?   Perhaps they are.  Perhaps I’m just lucky to have been born white, the youngest, to have lived this many years, to have the love of a good man.

What part of all that should make me ashamed?  And ashamed to the point that I need to make reparations to anyone?   I didn’t choose any of it, except the married part and yeah, I chose that with all my heart.

I am tired of the term “white privilege.”   I’m tired of being told I should feel guilty because of things I can’t control.   I’m tired of people trying to put a barrier between me and my friends, and yes, I have black friends, and gay friends, and young friends, and old friends, but I don’t refer to them as “that’s so and so, my black friend” or “that’s so and so, my old friend,” I refer to them as my friends.   They have Susan privilege – they’re lucky to be my friends.   And I have the privilege of having them in my life.

That’s a side note.  I’m tired of being divided.  I’m tired of watching people tear my country apart.  Maybe we should all focus on what we have in common, and start thinking of each other as people, instead of as labels.
And no, it’s now how I “identify,” those things I listed.  Nor are they who I am.   They are parts of who I am.   And those parts together, along with others, make up the sum total of me.   I’m not ashamed of a single part.  Not the white, not the straight, not the married, not one single bit.

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Oh, my heart

Posted on March 4, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

I have this condition –  – and I get twinges of pain, not often, but sometimes.   Some days are worse than others.   Weather, and stress created by weather, makes it worse.

The other day, this Rosie O’Donnell special came on tv.  We weren’t really paying attention, but she started talking about her heart attack – and how she didn’t have the normal symptoms, and what the symptoms were that she did have.

I get hot flashes, and I sometimes feel like there’s a band around my arm.   This is normal with my condition, but aching arms was one of her symptoms.    I get tired – really tired at times – this was another one of her symptoms.

So.  Now I’m thinking that every time I get a twinge, I need to see how tired I am, do my arms hurt, do I feel like throwing up?   Thanks,  Rosie – I know the purpose of the special was to educate people but really?  Telling me to go to the ER right away for all this would have me living there.   You did, however, increase my stress level.   Sigh

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February got me again

Posted on February 19, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

I hate Winter.

This is not news

I was doing okay till February.   We didn’t have hardly any snow.   We were just moseying along, waiting for the flowers and the grass to come back, hanging in there.

I have just written one of the worst sentences I ever wrote.

And then February hit.   It’s been one storm after another, with the drama this creates.    Weather boards on facebook have become worse than soap operas.   The amateurs take over after the pros go to bed.    It’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

It’s so cold that I can’t stand to be outside for more than a few minutes and Max doesn’t seem to understand that IT’S FREAKIN COLD OUT!   He wants out constantly, and that means that the door is open and the ice forms on the inside of it and it’s freakin cold in the house.

 

Can I just please sleep till April?   #countingthedaystillSpring

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Weather, whether you like it or not

Posted on January 29, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

I hate Winter.  Everyone who knows me knows how much I hate winter because I complain about it from November till March.   And then I complain about how much I’m not looking forward to it for the rest of the year.

I used to read several weather pages online.  They gave forecasts, people commented about how much they hated snow or loved snow, and drove me crazy with “BRING IT!” comments, and “we love you so much!” comments, but I could deal with those.  This year it seems that all the amateurs have come out of the woodwork, and they’re posting models and discussing their theories and going into great detail about the science behind these models and trying to sound like they know what they’re talking about.

I don’t care about all that shit.  Give me the forecast, no hype, no hoohaw – is it gonna snow or not and if so, how much?

So tonight I unfollowed all of them.  I’ll stick to the local news guy – he tells me what’s gonna happen tomorrow and not 2 weeks from now.   Maybe it will alleviate some of my stress.   I can only hope so.

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Decisions

Posted on January 21, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

I hate making decisions.   Snow forces me to make decisions.    Predictions for a week from now force me to make decisions a week in advance.   I don’t like changing my routine.   I go shopping for groceries on Thursdays, but since it’s snowing now – Wednesday – I probably won’t be able to go tomorrow because I won’t be able to get back up the driveway till Friday.

Okay, I could go Friday.   It’s supposed to snow Friday night.   That means the stores will be batshit on Friday.  Happy happy no joy.   Sigh.

Not being content with stressing me out three days in advance, they’re also talking about Monday.

I hate Winter.

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Stories

Posted on January 13, 2015 by suziecreamcheese

My parents never wrote their life stories.   I wish they had, I feel like there was so much I didn’t know and never will.

But I’ve never written mine.   Will anyone care when I’m gone?    It’s a strange thought, being gone – so I’ve decided that instead of being worried and frightened by it, I’m making my list of the people I’m going to haunt.   It’s not really long right now, but I just started thinking about it.  I’m sure it will grow with time.

I’ve thought about writing my story – but would anyone really want to read it?   I can’t imagine they would.   There’s been way too much drama in my life, but I doubt it’s of interest to anyone but those who participated.   Their stories are likely far different from mine.

I think about writing more than I do it.   I think it would be nice to sit down and write and write and have something wonderful to show for it.   I think it would be nice to have done that, but I don’t have the dedication and discipline to do it.

I think I just get overwhelmed with the number of things I could write about.  Max.  My husband.  My friends and the silly things we do.  The witchy things we do.   I just don’t know where to start – or where to stop.

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if you want to piss me off

Posted on December 30, 2014 by suziecreamcheese

tell me to lighten up

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Christmas

Posted on December 25, 2014 by suziecreamcheese

The good thing is that there are people who love me, people I’ve never actually met, but who have allowed me to share their lives, to love their children, and who have made me smile when I really wanted to just curl up into a ball.    They know who they are, and I’m not sure they know how much they’ve meant to me, but I know and that’s all that matters.

I have been blessed with a husband who loves me when I’m at my worst, and at my best, who puts up with me when I’m in full out tantrum mode, and supports me when I’m feeling like I can’t make it through another day.

I’ve been blessed with a dog who is better than I deserve.   He is an angel on this earth, and from none of my doing.   He drives me nuts, more times than not, with his antics and quirks, but the love I feel for him is beyond any love I’ve ever felt for anyone other than my husband.

I’ve been blessed with an awakening knowledge of who and what I am, and I’ve embraced my witchiness more than ever – and it feels good.   It feels great.

I have a beautiful home, a house that is full of us, full of the memories and laughter and tears we’ve shed in the past 8 years,  a house that I dreamed of and never thought would be mine.

I have a husband whose heart has been hurt this year, by his son and by the decisions that son has made.  His heart is broken daily by the inability of his grandchildren to connect with him and by their lack of desire to climb the walls he’s built.   My heart, hardened by years of intereactions with family members who would hug me only to be sure they were aiming the knife correctly, is fine.  I cut this boy out when I found out how he really felt about me.  His father, as much as he seems like a tough guy at times, can’t do that, so I cry for the pain inflicted on him.

My wish for this year is to heal those hurts.   I don’t know if I can, but I can try.

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