Are They For Reel?

WWSD? Suzie doesn't have time for movies when there are so many more important things to be doing.

I need to quit watching the Lifetime channel. It is seriously depressing me.

I am beginning to despise movies, especially romantic comedies. They never depict truthful relationships. They spoon feed me this vision of romance that leaves me wanting to hurl yesterday's dinner. Sure, most of them have some sort of tragedy happening at some point or another, but they always end the same way -- the boys gets the girl. Barf!

What I wouldn't give to go to the cinema and see a real romance story. One in which the woman has children and actually ages. A movie in which the love scene is interrupted by children, dogs, a cat, or hell, even a pot bellied pig. I want to see a movie that doesn't put band-aids on the truth about relationships. I want to see the band-aid ripped off and the wound laying open for all to see. Romance isn't perfect, so why the hell are the movies?

I blame these movies for the unhappiness of women today. They've been fed this bullshit for so long that they actually think this is what love is like. They don't understand when times get tough because it didn't happen that way in the movies. They expect their men to behave like well trained monkeys and actually get pissy when they act human. Give me a break!

Real relationships don't come with directors yelling Cut! They don't take breaks to powder their noses. They don't read from scripts and do not have lines to memorize. Reality doesn't need its own trailer and personal assistant. It just doesn't work that way.

With all this said, I am banning myself from all the girly channels until further notice. If you need me, I'll be the chick drooling over the ESPN guys.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

WWSD? Suzie would welcome him back with open arms and a smile on her face.

I must have fool written across my forehead. I must walk around with a kick me sign taped to my back. Apparently, I am giving off the vibe that I am a sucker and will fall for anything because Dick thinks he can send a few half-hearted apologies via text messaging and I'm supposed to just take him back? Uh, no.

I don't know where people get off thinking they can hurt you, say sorry, and waltz back into your life like nothing happened. Do they not realize that they have to prove they are sorry and not just merely say the words? Why in the hell would I believe he is sorry when not only has he done this before, he's done it numerous times?

Let me guess: I'll take him back, things will be fine for a minute, things begin to get a little rough, and bam -- he's gone again. Sorry, but I'm no fool. There aren't enough I'm sorrys to warrant me allowing this poor excuse for a man back into my life. Someone could not pay me enough to deal with his issues any longer. Even if he promised to cook and clean until his dying days -- I am not taking him back.

So now I'm torn between listing his sorry ass on craigslist (as Satan reincarnated) or auctioning him off on ebay (as no longer needed). I'm sure I wouldn't get much either way I went, but it would be fun to screw with him anyway. Perhaps I'll list him on both, send him the links via text messaging, and tell him to leave me the hell alone. Even if he doesn't get the hint, I'll get a good laugh. I hate assholes!

Suzie's Five Year Plan

WWSD? Suzie would have had this shit planned out long ago.

After the recent events (my Dick of a husband leaving), I figured it was about time I put a plan together. I need some direction and purpose in my life. I decided to keep it simple and start with a five year plan. This is what I've come up with so far:

Year #1: I will sell the house I live in currently and use that money to buy myself and the kids a new home. I need to find a full-time job and get my shit together. This year will be spent picking up the pieces and figuring out what the hell I want out of life.

Year #2: Hopefully by now, I know what I want. I'm sure that I'll never trust men again, but that's besides the point. I'll probably spend this year fucking up the minds of any man bold enough to try me. I'll send them all back crying to their mommies. I'll probably start a blog and title it Maneater. I'll bitch and complain about how all men suck. Moving on...

Year #3: I've gotten over my hatred of men, but unfortunately, they are all scared shitless now. I'll spend this year attempting online dating sites trying to find a companion. Nothing will work and no man will want to even touch me with a ten foot pole. In the end, I'll find myself settling for a new puppy.

Year #4: I finally meet someone. I look past the fact that he has no legs, is blind in one eye, and has to talk through his throat. He is charming and I really think he loves me. This could be the beginning for me.

Year #5: I find out my new love has fallen for the lady next door -- an elderly woman with thirty cats. He apparently had a thing for pussies and I wasn't quite enough. So the cycle begins again.

So much for the five year plan. I think I'll just take it day by day. Who really plans that far ahead anyway? Shit can happen. I may win the lottery. I may end up in jail for forking my husband to death. One never knows and quite frankly, I'm tired of guessing.