things and stuff.

today one of my students called me pretty.

I called her a liar.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

this morning I heard an "invis-voice." I thought for certain there was a very soulful black man outside my bedroom window singing his welcome to the waxing daylight. then I thought I heard him stealing the recycling cans.

news flash: I haven't lived in a place where blackmen (soulful or otherwise) sing the morning's welcome on the sidewalk for 10 years or more. my neighborhood is so unfalteringly whitebread (and subsequently boring and terribly itchy) that I'd be lucky to catch the token asian avoiding my dogs.

my best guess is that the very honkity white boy next door has a set o' lungs on him and was singing to his baby (or I'm a retard and it never happened). either way...it sounded nice. like the a'capella blessing of the boats in Annapolis.

I wanna wake up to it (about three hours later) every morning.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I'm disabling anonymous comments on my blog. without a name/face/persona attached I have no way of determining tone and therefore don't know what level of suki-tude to apply in return.

its my experience that good natured ribbing and straight up douchebag bitching sound ALOT alike...

'cept one is done by friends...

and the other by cowards.

--------------------------------------------------------------

My TEA(S) is finished.

it was both easier and more difficult than I expected. the science was uber easy and the math was not hard...but hurried. not enough time. I forgot how to add (the multiplication center of my brain, however, remained in perfect functioning order. made for some razzle dazzle reach-around solutions).

ever try to multiply 6 digit numbers without being able to add?

yeah, it was like swimming with a life preserver on. you won't DROWN...but you're not getting anywhere fast.

AND...

(----------------------------------?)

I don't think I liked the girl I was sitting next to.

she finished every section 48 seconds before me.
she had bigger boobs, a toned waist and smaller ass.
her boyfriend was way too cute for her (leading me to believe she gives good head).
and she had on sweatpants while I wore jeans.

fuck.ing.bitch.

------------------------------------------------------------

the monkey ran out of TP the other night, fished out a fresh new roll, and left it in the sink.

the 'pah left it right where it was with a note on it:

"you are not allowed to be this (arrow pointing to TP in the emmer-effing sink) lazy"

then we came into the studio and found 43 dishes on the floor.

*sigh*

--------------------------------------------------------------------

I taught gym today with the sole intention of wearing my very bestest aging lesbian PE teacher outfit.

I was all dressed up and ready for a photo shoot when the camera battery died.

then I chickened out and changed the white sweat sox.

bummer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't like my neighbors.

------------------------------------------------------------------

its so cold my dogs refuse to move.

------------------------------------------------------------------

and I have a wedgie.

--------------------------------------------------------------










.

update.

still fat.
still wearing tight pants.
still eating like its my only hobby.


carry on.

strong like man

in a few minutes I'm off to take my TEAS (Test of Essential Academic Skills) for entrance to nursing school.

its a 4+ hour test of 8-9 grade math, science and reading.

all of which, quite obviously, I have completely forgotten.

I've studied for a day or two, taken a practice exam and made half a dozen flash cards.

I'm good on the reading, english-usage (I pwn english whether my blog suggests so or not), and math.

I'm even fantastic on the earth, general and physical sciences.


chemistry is kicking my fucking dome in.

I hate chemistry.
maybe I shouldn't go to nursing school?

but, since I'm all but completely unemployable (they say you shouldn't walk away from a job and do absolutely nothing for seven whole years, then decide you're ready to re-enter the workforce, get a similar professional job and quit after five weeks...but I don't know WHY???) in any area that would earn me some coin...its back to school no matter what. nursing is top on the list for several reasons:

-I can walk to campus
-its cheap
-did I mention I can walk to campus?
-there's no mystery to medical education. been there. tried that. If I keep my nose down and my scrubs dry, I'll pass.
-I can work part-time (after graduation, mind you. I doubt I'll have time to work during)...and I like working part-time.
-I'll get to stick people with needles.
-it never hurts to have doctor friends

so I'll take my little test. ignore any and all chemistry questions until the absolute END of the session, then come home and drink a gigantic fucking cocktail.

wish me good luck, a long attention span and an iron bladder.

fuck!

my pants are STILL all too fucking tight.

these sons o' bitches HURT!!!

I climbed, rode, demolished a house and was otherwise active this weekend.

in days of yore...that'd've dropped a couple of pounds in no time.

FUCK!!!

it looks like i'm going to actually have to put some fucking effort into getting my tub-o-chub ass back into my god damned pants.

upon mentioning that maybe I should just buy new pants, monica said:

'just shrink yoself'


yeah. great. whatevs.

fuck that.

I like food.

we spend waaaay too much time in bed.

while oqui had his heart set on making his mountain bike racing debut this year at Granogue...

we've decided to focus our energies on more team-based events, and as such...are on an incredibly rigid and strenuous cross training regiment in preparation. you can understand, of course, that with such intensive training in other disciplines...he just doesn't have the time to commit to training for a proper racing debut.

our competitive plans for the spring include such spine twisting and back breaking events as:

synchronized sitting:

competitive cuddling:

munch-assing (always a crowd pleaser):

SPSW (super power strength wedgie giving):

good ol' fashun wrasslin':

and of course...we're always in search of the ever-elusive 'who's yo momma noogie':

with bonus points awarded for coyote cackling, hyena heckling and mushroom tattoos. while no OFFICIAL points will be awarded for hickie production...

you can't go wrong on style.

it's been rough. and, quite frankly, the pressure has gotten to us from time to time, but come spring...

I guarantee one thing:

we're ready for your bitch asses.

bring it.

snow day part deux

as opposed to the go home early variety...

today was a sleep late type.

it's 1:30pm...and I'm just getting up. even now only because da 'pah's phone rang.

my lungs still hurt. my back feels creaky...but I see NO reason why I shouldn't go for a quick sled or two.


well, besides the fact that I don't feel like moving.

I guess....

we'll. just. have. to. see.

edge of your seats, guys...I know it.

all hail the free clinic!!!

sans insurance, I found myself a free clinic at a (not-so) local church. it was in the middle of bumblefuck, had the CREEPIEST metally, gigantic, coat of arms, sword-like, representative of enemas in hades, emblem-y thing on the wall...

and I almost didn't want to go in. I told the 'pah...

if they try to inject me with ANYTHING. ANYTHING...kick some ass and get me outta there.

we waited for an eternity (purgatory?) surrounded by jesus kittens (why does jesus insist all his posters are covered in kittens) with a bunch of people just like me.

working. white. not EXACTLY poverty-stricken...but all without insurance.

they took one listen to my lungs and instantly determined: 's ok. teh suki no got the pneumoners.

bang the trumpet.

bugle the drum.

herald the...herald the....

meh. whatever the fuck. it's just good news.

it's likely viral.

I'm over the hump.

hump (<----some words just bear repeating)

my lungs is clear.

and the flu shot didn't work this year.

fuck da flu shot.

fuck (<----some words just bear repeating)

so, I'll spend the next four days in bed, anyway...but I won't need antibiotics (my cooter just sighed in relief). I'll most likely cough for weeks and weeks and weeks (doctor's words) and feel like I was hit by a truck (I'm going with getting beat up by a gorilla, but whatevs...)...

and we're not certain either way if the climbing trip to kentucky stays on the plate. even if I feel strong...I'll be 3 weeks out of climbing shape and lead like a loser.

and it'll be COLD. cold, I tell ya.

cold.

cold. (<-----some words DON'T bear repeating, but apparently get it anyway)

in other news, illness be damned, the 'pah and I tried our best to conceive a demon under the red eclipsed moon last night.

horns...

we're pretty sure it'll have horns.

cough medicine...

rawks my socks.

I'm loopy, wearing a sweatsuit (and my daughter's WAAAY too big for me basketball sneakers), hanging out with autistic kids...

and (I'm blaming on the cough syrup) looking just like one of them.

I'm sick as fuck. good thing the student:teacher ratio in this room is off the chain...or the lil' suckas would be running the joint.

cause miss suki...is out to liz-unch.



ps. I got my hair cut...and I'm smoking hot.

(for the record...^ that may also be the cough syrup typing)

for the record...

I'm not always miserable, sick or completely sarcastic (wellll, about that sarcastic thing...).

I've determined that I'm having a delayed and rather severe allergic reaction to work.

work.shmerk.jerk.

Idontwanna. Idontwanna. Idontwanna!

all of my previous (prior to beginning a blog mind you, so don't go looking for it, here) energy, charm, wit, style and enthusiasm have been slowing but surely SUCKED from my very being.

I was cute. petite. looked like I was 12 and all the fellas wanted to touch my bum.

now...nobody wants to touch my hiney.

I'm dying, here, folks.



ok, not dying...

but at least suffering ever so slightly from neglected toosh syndrome.

I wantz more vacashun!

I feel like dookie.

20 hours of respect my hairy white ass...this bug is having its way with me.

my snot is now green and oooh so plentiful. my back and head are achey and ornery. I have gas (totally unrelated and actually quite common) and my throat and chest hurt.

I think I'm working up my annual springtime pneumonia case.

FUCK YOU!!!

I've got a mortgage to pay, a climbing trip in a few weeks and a desire to get out of bed for more than 3 hours a day.

FUCK YOU!!!

I don't wanna be sick.

we went climbing this saturday (against my better (which sucks) judgement) and I felt like a dead whale.

I dream in climbing. my nightmares involve falls, my wet dreams focus on sweet sends. I think in boulders, chalk spots and crimps. my dressers are crammed with "crag clothes". I keep a pack full and at the ready and I can't climb worth a damn.

in short...I'm a climber...

who sucks.

sucky. suck. suck. SUCK.

dear climbing gods,

give me a fucking break, please. I've been at this 2 years. 2 years riddled with injury and sick days because I push myself like a mule. 2 years of sweat, tears, shivers, shakes and pants shitting. 2 years of not being able to reach the fucking hold.

2 fucking years and I can't lead (or even send half the damn time) 10's.

I am displeased and expect your full and immediate cooperation in this matter.

Suki

---------

I suppose I'm really upset with myself because of the new kids. there are two youngheads, 20 years old, tops...who've been climbing since september...

and are kicking all our asses.

fuck you, good climbers.

fuck you hard.

at first I was jealous, then happy for them, then jealous again...then told them to keep at it so

they can be our rope guns and set up top ropes for our old, lack luster asses.

woe/whoa is me.

in other climbing news, chunkymonkey was working the shit out of an overhung, pumpy climb the other night.

she heel-hooked, double-heel hooked, stretched, cranked, pulled, and was looking AWESOME.

maybe she'll have to give me some pointers.

fatmarc also gave me a good chuckle at the gym. he was about four feet from the shuts on a climb when he went silent and limp for a second. he waved his hand casually for diane to let him down. she didn't catch the gesture and he very calmly said, "down. down."

down he came and said in the most even keeled voice I've ever heard, "I freaked out."

haaaaaaaaaaaahahahaha

I busted up laughing. I had to tell him that if that was him freaking out he needs to show me the Jedi ways.

cool as a cucumber that man is...

cool as a cucumber.

can't wait to get that crew out to the quarry in the spring and let them feel the rush of real rock.

I should apologize in advance to the cycling community...

cause I'm gonna make bona fide, obsessed, forgetting about their bikes climbers of them.

...mostly so they can set up my top ropes.

banging the drum and taco bell

I got the call yesterday (mid bath, mind you) that my brother-in-law (BIN) is out of money and out of supplies.

the major donation from Lowe's didn't come through (viva la Home Depot) so he's been trying to buy the supplies as he goes.

and now he's broke.

he's fortunate that they've found a couple of local mom and pop shops that are giving them materials at cost...but they need money.

soon.

they've made AMAZING progress. there was a concern during last weeks storm, though about further damage because they didn't have enough supplies to get the roof completed. my mother says the upper floors are fine and the storm went on about its business without wrecking his house, again.

amen.

so for anyone who's able and willing to help, donations can be made through my mother's church in Exton, PA.

St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church
104 South Village Avenue
Exton, PA 19341

Anyone wishing to make donations to help with the fire recovery may do so by making a check payable to “St. Paul’s Lutheran Church” and entering “House Fire Help” in the memo line of the check – this is very important as without the notation, the treasurer will place the funds in the general treasury.

these donations are tax deductible and with a little luck (and some padding in the offering plates) will be matched to some extent.

I am by no means a religious person (being the daughter of a southern baptist minister/major junkie'll do that to a girl)...but when it comes to charitable acts and social ministering:

I heart churches.


a huge thanks to anyone that has helped (in particular a small group of oqui's friends who have been sending gift cards and well wishes non-stop) and will help!

the suki loves ya!


in other news:

I lied. I didn't feel like washing the fruits and veggies. I broke the blender and lost the food processor in the divorce.

organic, raw and whole foods my ass...

we ate at taco bell.

I'm sick.

the plan was to chub up, get some "schlepp on my bones" (yes, I'm Pennsylvania Dutch) and quit it with the minor, yet irritating health issues.

no go.

I'm fat and still have had killer headaches for a week, waking up able only to whisper and squeak today (there are those who would have found this not only palatable, but advantageous, I'm sure.) sooo..

I guess I'm sick, again.

I took the day off and am giving this one its 20 hours of respect...then telling it to lick my anus (and not in a good way). then I'm changing just about every aspect of my diet. I'll start with a nice, organic juice fast to clear the lingering demons.

then I'll reintroduce raw foods...

and if all goes well, I'll stay there. (think "paleolithic diet" minus the cooking part)

because for a "healthy" person...I'm always fucking sick. my liver doth fight back, me thinks.

either way...I've got loads of plans for this year, none of them involving me being laid up in bed with blood butt, a runny nose, or migraine as being central to their theme.

this is the year it stops. i told the 'pah last night...I've got to make some changes before I REALLY get sick. I had enough scares last year to warrant a wake up call. I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess. I kept being told to gain weight (WHY??? I'll never know)...

but instead I think I really need to focus of proper fueling and rest.

I've got climbing, riding, skiing and frolicking to do...and want to get considerably better at all of them in the very near future.

along the lines of getting healthier, in general, also comes the part where I ditch this house and lose my shitty job.

stress BE GONE!

this week alone I broke up four fights (one of which required me to put a lil focker in a full nelson), witnessed 14 chairs being thrown willy-nilly about the "classroom" (its more like a prison yard, if you ask me), had to chase down 3 runners (at least I got to sprint after their dumb asses), was called 1400 different permutations of "bitch," chased 40+ 4 year olds around (I'd rather break up fights), had the misfortune of "setting off" an EXTREMELY animated, precocious, flaming gay and irritable sixth grader...

and ate three poisonous school lunches.

no more, I tell ya.

when my contract is up...I'm outtie.

I'll live in a cubby hole, make six bucks an hour at a flower shop and FINALLY finally FINALLY be stress free and relaxed.



aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.

amen.

how 'bout that weather, eh?

pennsylvania winters are frustrating and disappointing (to put it in mild mannered ever so un-suki-like terms) with their recent insistence on LIQUID precipitations versus the frozen variety.


that is, quite surprisingly, where my complaining ends, however. why you ask? cause everyone, as eager for the white stuff as I am, but for different reasons (I think they just want a reason to stock up on milk and canned goods) freaks out and gives me a day off...

to ski!

I busted outta pre-prison (I had the chair throwing, escape artist, emotional support freaks again yesterday) around 1 o' da clock yesterday and came home with one thing...

and one thing only on my mind.

I'm going skiing!

by the time I located skis, gloves, pants, jacket, underlayers, the kid, the man, 3 dollars and the ski resort...it was already after 7, but never you mind that, cause...

I went skiing! (did I mention that I went skiing yesterday?)

i was only a teeny eensy little surprise that the last lift ticket on my ski pants was dated March 3, 2004. holy fuck. it had been FOUR ENTIRE years since I last skied.

no wonder I was bitchy.

last night, though...I was too excited about going to realize that I was shit scared of actually SKIING. we rolled up on the lift line and I almost chickened out. do I remember how to do this? how do I get off the lift? will I survive? what is that pesky inch on my left inner thigh?

one run. I remembered.

god damn I love that shit.

my form was a wee bit sloppy, but for the life of me...I'm not sure that the four year hiatus had anything to do with that. I'm pretty sure I was only mediocre when I stopped skiing...and was probably as good last night as ever before.

I scrub speed like its my job. the 'pah tucks, hits a straight line and jumps anything in his way, while I granny my way down slicing nice WIIIDE turns across the slopes and occasionally (only very occasionally, mind you) letting a little air get under my sticks.

ha. kinda like we ride.

did I mention that I FINALLY went skiing????

the conditions were precisely what you could expect during a pennsyltucky ice storm. chatter (oooh, how I love that sound), frozen goggles, ice three inches thick on our hats, and crunchy beards (<---his. not mine).

we came in looking like arctic explorers. it felt fucking fantabulous. at one point during our laboriously slow lift ride I looked over at the 'pah and said, "damn. its brutal out here. I guess we must be pretty bad ass, huh?"

his response was glorious in its simplicity (maybe because his frozen beard was too tight):

"no. we're stupid."

agreed, but at least we finally FINALLY got to go skiing together.

due to the sucky weather and her having outgrown ALL of her cold weather gear, the kid spent her time dodging the advances of 16 year old penises in the lodge (I punched one of them. only 20% playing) and caffeinating. she almost puked and fell asleep in the car on the way home...

only to ask us first thing this morning, "can we go skiing, again???"

yes, sweetpea.

we most certainly can.

will it never end?

I'm guessing not til retirement.

today's installment of why-the-fuck-am-I-doing-this??? involved not one, not two, not even 20...

but 40 four year olds.

jesus. h. jehosephat.

I signed up for a nice quiet day covering LIBRARY and got myself inextricably reassigned (trust me. I tried to extricate myself) to pre-kindergarten.

am AND pm.

there was more snot-wiping, shoe-tying, having-to-pee-can-you-help-me-with-my-pantsing? going on today than I could reasonably stomach.

good thing the lil summabitches were CUTE!!!

it made for a tiring day (and a gigantor FREAK OUT on my own kid when I got home. I swear if I see her boobs hanging out just ONE more time, I'm cutting them off), but all in all it was a good day that served its purpose.

birth control.

if you think my blog is dirty...

I'm worse in person.

I spent the majority of the weekend in stretchy pants. all bets are off when you squeeze an ass like mine into stretchy pants. the sheer I-don't-give-a-fuck-edness required for me to pull THAT off invariably leads to bad...

bad things.

add to that the fact that the 'pah and I spent 37 of the 48 weekend hours fornicating (re: humping like high schoolers)...

and well...

I did bad (bad) things.

after putting a good spit shine on the nonny, we decided that at some point this afternoon...leaving the bed might not be a bad idea.

thusly, we hauled our afterglowing asses to the gym to climb. lacking in strength, we made up for it with vulgarity.

I got caught uttering a few of the following (mostly while belaying):

-(sings ba wit da ba) I'm 3 feet tall with a 6 foot dick!
-you're right. it might be contagious...you should probably stop licking my ass.
-no. I do that on purpose. its fun watching him try to climb with a boner.
-dag. we need to stop having sex. seriously. I'm dying here.
-it's ok. I'm his sister (<---confession: that one was stolen)
-(sings again) cock. ding-a-ling balls and ass...

one of the (younger) dudes we see there pretty often (ie. they see me cussing up a storm and grabbing his junk on a regular basis) said to his girlfriend tonight...

they're my fucking heroes.

I didn't HEAR him say it...but knew it was implied he wishes that they can hump as much as we do when they're OUR age.

ha! good luck, whipper snapper!

I skipped with all the enthusiasm of a five year olf with an ice cream cone. but seriously...we should probably stop having so much sex. I AM dying here...

mhd ftw!

screw it. I'm having a menstrual health day.

I climbed hard (and well) this week. cranked out some stiff 10's. worked some tricky moves. just felt good.

and now I hurt.

loving it.

(please bear with me, as I'm hormonally incapable of making any sense)...

ladies, please join me. I emplore you all to take the rest of the day off. we'll spark up the fire place, make some hot chocolate, brownies, mashed potatoes and chicken croquettes (I'm considering changing the title to "comfort food FOR THE WIN!).

then around 1 o'da'clock we'll head out to the Wilbur chocolate factory and watch mr. world renowned chocolate dude work his magic...and we'll eat more chocolate.

when we return from that we'll knit, scrapbook, drink wine spritzers, paint each others' nails and (for my male readers...) HAVE A GIGANTIC BIKINI PILLOW FIGHT.

any male who approaches will be shot on the spot.


...unless he's bringing more chocolate.

no more nemo!!!

Pleasssssssssssssssse stop making me watch this damn movie!!!!

its a go-to for elementary school party planning. a staple for substitutes. a must-have for life-skills, learning support and special ed time-killing.

in about 8 minutes (just for fun)....I'm sticking a pencil in my eye.

I hereby vote down with Disney, Pixar, DVD players and children.



:(

...I'd rather be climbing.

pants.

as of late...I seem to be having pant issues.


none of them fit. I'm not playing here, folks. this isn't (yet) another suki's-bloated-feeling-miserable-and-whining-to-the-world-attention-seeking-device.

nosirreebob.

I'm fat.

I have precisely two pairs that fit...and two months ago - they both fell off. I'm not particularly concerned, mind you. dropping a pants size or two is (or WAS?) a simple matter of climbing/hiking/riding a bit more and laying off (to a minor extent) the choccy.

I'm belaboring this point only in order to make my next one.

which is that:

tight pants hurt.

they hurt so bad, in fact, that I've been nursing a ball of fire in my belly for the last 5 hours. hellfire and brimstone now reside in (or near) my bowels.

which is a set of facts that only rate explaining in order to set the stage for the next item on the agenda.

which is that:

I had to make a ginormous poopie today in an unlockable bathroom.

not fun, ladies and gents...not fun. add to non-existant lock the facts that:

-this building houses 400+ students a day

-I'm wearing a leopard print thong (that I'm not particularly interested in anyone seeing)

-I have a birthmark on my ass (that I'm not particularly interested in anyone seeing)

-I keep getting caught with my pants down (kids, fellow trail goers, nosey neighbors)

-and the TP is tree bark

and you, my friends, have a recipe for skidmarks. I was in such a hover-induced (did I mention the other 400+ asses using this seat?) hurry that wiping...unfortunately...was not my main priority.

I'm not complaining, mind you...just pointing out the facts.

the most of important of which is that I'd LOVE to head on home and scrub my ass.

Trek titties.

yesterday's excursion to the farmer's market included a side run to the bike shop.

I know, I know. my priorities are wrong. the trip to the bike shop should've included a side run for groceries, but I digress...

while browsing around I couldn't help but notice (and damn near lose an eye due to) the trek mannequins.


holy fucking nipples.

they were ridiculous. everywhere I looked...titties. unhaltered. high beaming. in your face perkies.


I was pissed. I raised such a fuss the bike shop guys turned the offending female fronts around and promised to either saw the ridiculously emphasized nipples off or put them in jackets to hide the suckers.

what the fuck was trek thinking?

they're trying so hard to convince those of us with ovaries and boobers that they CARE about our riding experience with their women specific designs...

then they blatantly and so RUUUDELY objectify us. there wasn't a trek poster in that store that didn't in some way, shape or form make me believe that trek thinks I'm a bikini wearing, mountain bike bunny who isn't actually interested in clothing for comfort or function.

no, sirree! I LIKE when my ass crack sticks out while I'm riding...and if possible could you print my sports bra with really pretty flowers on it, too? and maybe design some riding gloves to accommodate my uber long finger nails that I JUST. GOT. DONE.

fuck you, trek. I won't spend a single solitary penny on your products until you start showing me (and my tatas) some respect.

I will hand it to them, though. their marketing is saavy. (although it pisses me off even more)

while they crowd the bike shops with titties (OBVIOUSLY for the viewing pleasure of all the WOMEN who frequent them)..they have the good sense to keep that shit off their web-site.

I went a-searching for an example of their asinine attempts at mimicking the female physique...

and found not one single nipple.

mannequin or model.

assholes.