NASA Image That I Dig

reminds me of new york

Ani D-Come Away-Up up up up up up

we used to hold hands down
those unfamiliar streets
you used to take me diving
into the watery blue deep
but now you're trying to find every tiny treasure
every shiny penny of pleasure
satisfy every selfish purpose
before you swim back up to the surface

Susie's New Background

Courtesy of my bro, Rob . Fabulous photographer and NYC bound!

Your Motto

What is your motto? Or your mantra? Or the one thing that drives you every day? Do you have one?

I do, I think. I want to know yours. Do it anonymously, if you want. Just share with a sister. I think if someone were to ask me what I try to do every day it would be to make people happy. Even if it's for just one moment and even if it means I look dumb, or crack a whopping failure of a joke. To make the lives of as many other people happier. I think. It could be just to Get Rich or Die Trying. (That was a joke!)

Love to all and to all sweetest of dreams.

Quickly: I know my mom will remember him. Justin, from Byerly's in St Louis Park. The sweetest guy ever. It started ever-so-innocently, I was a wee lass. I mean, I must have been 12 or 13. Justin was probably 17 or 18? Mom? Justin was deaf, two hearning aids and had a gorgeous smile. We would wait in his line, so I could make eyes at him and he would make me blush. It must have been just a year he worked there. And we had relatively limited interaction. I don't even remember much other than smiles. But I remember him so so fondly. Of course he moved on from bagging groceries and I never saw him again. And I still think about him. Flirting with him was one of the best things about my junior high school days.

In Response To My Overzealous Last Post

I woke up this morning at 6am. Something, lots of things?, was/were on my mind. Finances, where my folks were going to sleep (they come to town on Sunday. YAY!!), what my brother is going to do while I'm working all night (3/3 nights he's here) this weekend while he's visiting (YAY!!), what the f (as my mother says :) ) I'm doing and whether it's the time, or if there's a good time or not, to move back to Minnesota, call it a day and marry some frosty the snowman and wear snowsuits the rest of my life. Or move somewhere else? Or....

My revelation was in form of a previously written, long over due, post. When I woke up at 6, I was UP. Awake. And I'd gone to bed at 11, so it was not my requisite 8 hours of sleep. Sleep is really, very important to me, my attitude and my (and sometimes others') well being. I was up, energized, writin' about metro cards...cause that's logical. ANYWHO, I finally got tired again around 7:30. I wanted to be up a bit before 8, so I could rollerblade, have a liesurely steam and shower, eat some breakfast and get on the floor. I decided to just "shut my eyes for a second." Can you see it coming?!

I overslept and had to take a cab to work.

Ah...awesome.

Money, MTA, Taxis

I'm trying to save money. This, of course, is a mild joke, seeing that I live in Manhattan and am paid Manhattan wages-not Wall Street Manhattan wages, but, struggling, pathetic Manhattan wages.

At first, I was buying $76 monthly subway cards that would allow me to ride the bus or subway anytime all the time. I was hopeful that I'd be really really amazing and only take the subway or bus to work. But the bottom line is, when I'm lying in bed, it's 3pm and I have to get up right THEN or have an hour more sleep and take a cab to work..I just think to myself, "this hour of sleep is worth $9." Then I proceed to toss and turn for an hour, being mad at myself for not getting up so I can take the bus and spend $2 instead of $9. Which adds up, let me tell you.



I love my metro card. The freedom it affords me. I love it. But mostly when time is not an issue and I'm going ridiculously far uptown or into Brooklyn or something. The bus and I have become friends this week. And I'm rollerblading to work today.

I like doing that because one of my perks at work is this: we have a spa. So I rollerblade to work, thusly getting some sort of physical exercise (now I just need the intellectual stimulation and I'm on my way), then I take a steam and a shower and get to work. It's a good system.

I like taxis, too. Riding in one is kind of a forced isolation and allows you to look at the outside world alone and critically. Riding across the Williamsburg Bridge, alone, in a taxi, does wonders for the brain.

Goodbye $76 metro cards. Hello pay as-you-go metro cards, taxies and rollerblades.

Deep Throat

I found this here. I found both through my bro's website.

More on it later!

By Rob

This photo was taken by my brother. He's a great photograhper. I think he should sell a computer background program as his photos are the only things that havve adorned my computer for a while.

Rob

Maggie and Jake

Do brother and sister pair, Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal, just sit around and poke each other and say, "can you believe? We're so famous! Together! At the SAME EXACT TIME!"

It's weird, right? That an acting brother and sister pair are so successful, at the exact same time.

I cast no aspersions, but it's kind of unheard for for kids who aren't in family/variety shows, right?

Not A Pretty Girl

Ani DiFranco is one of my favorite artists-her songs have inspired me since I was lucky enough to hear her at summer camp in 1996 (I went to camp for 10 years as a camper...until I was 17. And it was STILL cool!). My friend Katy Harris had Out of Range and it changed my life in an afternoon. Ever since, she's been right there with me-or I've been right behind her. I'm a lucky girl for that.

My friend Ben, who I've mentioned before wrote this blog post today. Then I heard this song.

So, please read said post first, then read the lyrics.

This might have to do with knowing Ben, as much of him as I've had the fortune to get to know, and that, with him, potential runneth over. He's in a quandry-and seems frustrated with "career" decisions... I think one can do it all, Ben's wondering what to do. He has a point.

And Ani reminds me that to be complacent, as I've been for the last year or so, is not acceptable.

Ben's quandry; Ani's call to action; my complacency.

Oops! This is really about ME! Surprise! That's what you get for reading my diary. (There's no one I'd rather read it :) (Which reminds me of a time in Marbella, Spain a couple years ago. I'd hooked up (in the traveller sense of the word) with an Australian guy, Hayden. He had relatives in Marbella and I needed to escape Donostia (San Sebastian to Spanish; Donostia to the Basque), so we got on the bus. It was lovely. We stayed in the guest house, which happened to be on the roof of this apartment building. His aunt and uncle were messes-but we had a damn good time. I was coming back to the guest house and walked in on Hayden indulging himself in my diary. I was on the first bus out of Marbella (to his perplexed aunt and uncles' surprise. I'd have stayed if Hayden left. I had fun with them!). I don't cut people off often (I think he's the only one that was cut off with intention), but I think I had to cut him off for the blatant display of sheer stupidity.)

Onwards:

WIlling To Fight

The windows of my soul
are made of one way glass
don't bother looking into my eyes
if there's something you want to know,
just ask
I got a dead bolt stroll
where I'm going is clear
I won't wait for you to wonder
I'll just tell you why I'm here

'cause I know the biggest crime
is just to throw up your hands
say
this has nothing to do with me
I just want to live as comfortably as I can
you got to look outside your eyes
you got to think outside your brain
you got to walk outside your life
to where the neighborhood changes

tell me who is your boogieman
that's who I will be
you don't have to like me for who I am
but we'll see what you're made of
by what you make of me
I think that it's absurd
that you think I
am the derelict daughter
I fight fire with words
words are hotter than flames
words are wetter than water

I got friends all over this country
I got friends in other countries too
I got friends I haven't met yet
I got friends I never knew
I got lovers whose eyes
I've only seen at a glance
I got strangers for great grandchildren
I got strangers for ancestors

I was a long time coming
I'll be a long time gone
you've got your whole life to do something
and that's not very long
so why don't you give me a call
when you're willing to fight
for what you think is real
for what you think is right

OMG!

I just changed the template for the blog (you like? hate?) and lost all my links.

Those links, lest you believe they were there for you, were there for me. Those were my bookmarks! Ahh!

Well, time to clean out the drawers, so to speak. I guess only the ones I love will make it back up.

So many. All gone. Not worth the new background!

C'est la vie, right? C'est la vie.

Dan and Jael

Dan, Jael and Sam's Restaurant earns great reviews and probably more fun than a Fodor's guite author can throw a stick at.

Costa Rica. Veggie oil bus. I'm so so proud of you and glad for you!

xoxo times a million

Never Cards

So, I was reading Lindsayism because Ben and I were talking about it last night. I read an entry about a Ben who I didn't know, who is apparently a friend of her's who has died (my condolences. Losing anyone really sucks).

Then I went to Sarah's (another person I do not know) website and linked to the Ben's-who-I-don't-know's site and found these lovely little e-cards that really say it all.

Thanks for the bit of greatness Ben!

Reminds me of:
Natalie Dee
Toothpaste For Dinner
Married to the Sea

Work

It wasn't so bad today. Then again, I wasn't doing my job, persay, because there was very little of my job to do.

Tomorrow there's a lot of my job to do, but I really like the client/think she's really fun.

That helps...a LOT.

Just wanted y'all to know I get my share of good to great days, too :)

My Favorite Artist

Neither Here Nor There

I'm not used to "here nor there". I am either HERE or THERE. At this moment, though, I'm neither here nor there. My horoscope fills me in:

Via my favorite: Rob Brezney.

From Rob B to me (1 May):
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): I once knew a psychic who worked with
people in comas. He contacted their spirits, which were wandering in
limbo between this world and the next, and tried to convince them to
either fully return to their bodies or else let their bodies die and formally
exit to the other side. The task you now face is nowhere as dramatically
life-and-death as that, Taurus, but it's comparable in a sense: Being
neither here nor there is a futile state that you shouldn't continue to
accept. Do what's necessary to make the knotty choice with as much
grace as possible.

With as much grace as possible...I'm not sure for what, yet, though, I will make a decision. Which decision, though?

I think I'll handle anything with grace (it's the other guy I'm worried about). The "knotty choice" however, I'm not sure yet, what that choice is.
...

I refuse to be neither here nor there. It is a futile state I refuse to accept. I will make the commitment to make the knotty choice of where I go, with as much grace as possible.

Suburbia

I'm looking for an apartment at the moment. My rent skyrocketed and I'm not going to pay $900 for a 9x7 foot room. That's some bullshit.

So I'm looking. I stayed in my old place for an additional month (paying $900) because I didn't want to make a flash decision, nor did/do I want to move into a place that's going to cost me $900 and is just a little bigger. Because, no matter how hard I try to forget it, the point is I CANNOT pay $900/month plus utilities. Plus, I'm not certain the way I live in NYC is worth it. It's not like I go out much. I work at night, so I don't go to concerts and I'm rarely motivated to go to museums and the like during the day. I could live in Minneapolis on what I make and live in my parents' guest bedroom (just thinking here, Mom and Pops) and save some serious dough and then....travel. Thusly remedying the negative accumulation of adventure in my life. I think adventure may actually be actively sapped from me every time I get out of bed...but this is merely speculation. Anyway, is it worth it to live in Manhattan, but to not really LIVE here? Am I experiencing what it is to live here? Is it worth the rent to merely eat, work and sleep here?

The point is, when I search NYC Craigslist, I put in my rent min/max: $700-$800 and the places that come up are "Forest Hills," "Fresh Meadows," "Weehawken." I have to move to the suburbs!

Part of me is VERY excited about this. I can get my bike out here and bike around my hood. I'll own the neighborhood in a year (know my neighbors; the hardware store folks; coffee shop saviors) and that's important.

The part I'm not excited about is that people won't visit me-and it, inevitably, narrows ones' dating pool (proximity and convenient subway lines are very important parts of dating in Manhattan, from what I can tell). Also, it's just far. And I hate getting out of bed. I have to actually THROW the covers off of me to freeze myself into the shower. LAME. And mildly pathetic. Sometimes I just put the covers back on. Those days are when I get an "F".
_____________________________LATER_____________________
Is it worth applying to clubs in Mpls to leave New York? Will I live with myself well if I leave New York, where I never planned to live, and now expect myself to just do it, make it? When I don't even know what that means.

At this point, I just miss driving around the lakes and looking at the houses and whipping around in the MG.

Rob, remember when you'd take me out for a drive in the MG? You'd smoke a cigarette and wait for me outside Calhoun Square while I ran in to "Cookie" to get a white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie? Ultimately, I started smoking cigarettes, too. We'd drive around Lake of the Isles, Lake Calhoun and Lake Harriett (and if all went really well, Cedar Lake), all in the 1951 MG-TD. What lakes. What cookies. What company. That's how we grew together, I think. That's how we got used to each other; knowing full well, even at 14 and 16, that, in the end, we'd be all either of us had-and Nate, of course. Gowing up with you made me a lot of who I am today.





Thanks, dude. I love you!

To suburbia I go. Plus some job apps...

xing the fingers.

Moto: Susie Loves This Bar

I just wanted to add, that, I love Moto. It's in Brooklyn, too. And it's special. Not surprisingly partly owned by a Minnesotan (Dad, it's where I was going to take the hub cap from the trailer that I opted not to. Maybe I should still?). How could one not like a place that sells artichokes? Artichokes, people. Straight, with butter. Perhaps the best food on the planet? Oops...that's fodder for another post. I really need to go to bed . (We apparently just missed Sleep Awareness week. Well, it ends today. Be sure to observe!)

Maybe I should try to get a date, now that I have a bar.

How To Behave at a Bar by Susie's Favorite Bartender

Since I think it's only my parents, Stacey and Ben who actually read my blog, it may be silly linking to this. However, Ben is easily my favorite bartender (and the only person at work who knows this blog exists, otherwise I'd keep my big ol' mouth shut), not only because I consider him a very nice friend, but also because he's a great leader and does his job extremely well. And always with a smile. And that shit's harder to do than one might think. (Especially if you're sitting at a desk and thinking to yourself, "I smile!". Doesn't count. Sorry!)

I don't think my parents go to many bars. Although, they could very well have a secret retired life I don't know about. And I certianly approve of their behavior when we do get to go out to any sort of establishment (well, my dad does flirt A LOT. I think he may just be using his age to his advantage. Although, again, I could see him doing this THROUGHOUT his life. Dad, you're crazy (he always says it's women "under 7 and over 70" who like him. But ALL my mom's friends (between 7 and 70) love him. Wait a minute. So do MY friends! Geez..that's one smooth fella you picked up, Ma!))

ANYWAY. (Susie, stick to a subject, for God's sake!) Ben's Rules on Bar Patronage will be helpful to many-a-asshole. And, no!, I'm NOT saying Stacey or my parents are assholes! Quite the contrary. I do, however, believe that you are the only four who read my blog. And I'm OK with that. I quite appreciate it, in fact.

Maybe I'll go scan some pictures of Ben, Cassie and me. We had fun a couple nights ago at Union Pool in Brooklyn. I may still be recovering. Or, I may just be really really cranky. Which is a distinct possiblity.

I think I'm cranky because there is 100% ZERO adventure in my life. My fault? Must get resolved, real quick-like. Crankyness is a theme that I really hope doesn't last. Like I hope it ends tomorrow. It's boring and it must be mildly boring to read. Thanks for sticking with me.

PS Mom, I need to come back to MN and scan all those old photos before they get cracked and die. By now they're almost 10 years old. 9, I know, but 10 is more dramatic.

Umbrella Birds Inspire Bad Mood Woman To Remember Another Life Disappointment!

In searching for a picture of an Umbrella bird, I came across this page about Costa Rican tourism and birding and read this excerpt:

"Not today. We wait 30 minutes, maybe more. It is approaching 4:30, dark shadows spread across the forest floor. No umbrellabird. Not even a plain antvireo to break the monotony. The bellbird is still bonking from somewhere far away. Liddy rests her aching sacroiliac on a log. Melvin toots the coke bottle. The prospect of retracing the steep and winding trail in the dark looms. No hooms today. Howler monkeys don’t count. We head back for the station. Tomorrow is another day, Melvin assures us. We will come early.

"Ten minutes down the trail we encounter Robert, the station keeper, followed closely by two guys who have the confident look of people who know exactly what they are doing. One has an $800 pair of Swarovski binoculars clipped to a shoulder harness. Robert and his buddies are moving at a breathless pace up the steep slope headed for the lek we have left behind. Much later in the dining hall at the station we get the story.

"It is the old story: we should have stayed. Around 5 o’clock the umbrellabirds appeared, they put on a spectacular display with their brilliant red chest sacs fully inflated and lots of hooms. We can only sit and fume at the smug descriptions."

Almost the same thing happened on another trip I'm extremely grateful for: when I went to Uganda, Africa in 1997. I knew what I was doing was special, but the farther I get from that experience, I know, I'll just feel more and more fortunate for it, secondly, knowing a tiny piece of Africa only makes me want to see, know and do more there. Anyway.

So, I went on a Habitat for Humanity trip there. While I was there, I made friends with Beth and Amy. Beth was, then, a 37 year old nurse in Chicago and Amy a 27 (probably alcoholic) lawyer. So, there we were, three decades of (2) women and a girl, with our flight home approaching and none of us wanting to leave. We found a safari for $500 for 7 days. I called my parents at what was 4am their time. I asked my mom, she asked my dad what he thought, to which he (intelligently) responded, "well, she's already there...". Wired money, an awkward moment with a man taking covert pictures of me at the bank, and a few slices of pizza later, we were picked up and whisked off to a national park. Just us three white midwesterners and, Jeffery, our driver and soon to be friend. God, it kicked ass!!!

The story I'm indending to tell here is this one: After a night of drinking (of course) Beth, Amy and I rise at Jeffery's beckon and roll out of bed in and into our Range Rover. Today's goal was lions. We got up around 4, because the cats like the cool of the morning. I mean, for the dudes, those manes are BIG! So we drive out into the reserve. This beautiful expanse of African grasses. We drove around bushes for a while (they like to camp out under them (I got nervous, because what if we DID see one and it hated our guts? Or was...um...hungry?!). (Not that I'd be much to eat, I hated the food. Everything was deep fried in peanut oil for the previous 2 weeks of our stay and I lost some serious weight. Thank goodness I never had issues with eating or I may have never returned to the US ;) .)

Anyway, we drive off the track for vehicles because we're just shit out of luck. A truck of lovely Brits follows close behind. Driving, driving. We see a MASSIVE anthill with an Impala's (I'm sure a very nice Impala, but we all have a purpose, right?) LEG on it. This makes us think: lions. Although the leg did look a little old. We drove for a while longer and finally turned it in and turned around. The Brits stuck it out.

So a little later, we're at breakfast and we rehash the morning's events with the Brits. They drove for about 20 more minutes and saw a lion AND a lioness! I gave them my address and they sent me the photos they captured of these amazing animals. I had it hanging in my freshman year dorm room to remind me to keep driving.

So, not really a life disappointment, more of a fabulous (and addicting) adventure. But wow, we were so close!

This makes me want to write more stories. The hippo at dinner story; the frog in my bed in CR story; the elephant charging us story. I could go on. But, alas, I have to go to work.

I'm happier now.

Don't Read This. It's Kind of Pathetic.

I'm a little cranky and probably a little cray cray.

I miss having time to do things I want to do and it makes me sad that when I only have two or three hours before work, after I wake up, that I find it easier to sit and wallow than I do to do...I don't know, something else. Something more interesting and worth while.

The nice weather almost puts me in a worse mood. Is this possible?

The rain today makes me think of Camp Lake Hubert, where I spent 11 amazing summers as a wee lass. Just a light sprinkling to remind us that not all days can be sunny, although I'm sure they try. I love the dark clouds. A little tree rustle and some halyards banging against masts, and I'd be back to the woods of MN.

I was cranky about so much more when I started writing this. I think I'm still pretty cranky, but this probably isn't the forum for the discussion of it.

I want time off from work. I want to do something else. Maybe I want to leave New York? I'm feeling really antsy and pretty unsatisfied.

For now, I'll try to find serenity on my fire escape and joy in playing through my iPod on shuffle.

(Following in my mother's example, now I must atone for that crappy negativity above and be grateful for somethings. Here goes: I'm grateful for deoterant. Winter sweaters; the time I've spent on sailboats; maps (especially old ones and ones that depcit things like populations and other demographics and facts). I'm grateful for facts. For good music other people make. I'm grateful for showers-especially the outdoor one at Pipe Lake and that one shower I had in Costa Rica in the Cloud Rainforest. It was always cold-freezing, actually, since it was rainwater and we only had electricity for 90 minutes a day at dusk and thusly no heating mechanism. I'm also grateful for that guy who was there at the same time we were from the Discovery Channel. He was doing a documentary on Umbrella birds and took us, at 4am, on one of his missions to see them. They puff out their red waddles (I think the males, only) as part of their mating ritual (maybe that's what I need, a red waddle), their songs are incredible. I'm really grateful there's a huge world out there to explore and very hopeful that one day I'll be in a position to explore it and know all that I can possibly know about it.)
The Umbrella Bird

I'm still not in a good mood, but usually being grateful helps.