MmHmm

Sometimes I wish I could feel nothing. When I was on Adderall XR, it worked wonderfully in drying up my emotions. It gave me a tough exterior that no one could breach. I was Superman -- impervious to others. I was protected. It didn't matter what they said or thought... I had my armor.

But I didn't like how I felt on that medicine. It wasn't me. I am not a cold person. I feel. I'm emotional. I am sensitive to everything around me.

Lately, I've been getting a lot of flack from others. They have all come up with my problem. Apparently, I suffer from a bad case of "narcissistic personality disorder". MmHmm.

Yes, the evidence will show that I do care a great deal about how I look. A Facebook status update may easily contain "I leg pressed 550#'s today". I am also well known for putting plenty of pictures of myself on this blog and on FB. Oh, the travesty!

I do toot my own horn when it comes to athletic achievement. "I defeated a foe in tennis 6-1, 6-4" or "I've won my division in the Flex League... YAY!" These accomplishments are offensive to others and I really should STOP bragging about them. MmHmm.

Do you know what I've decided? I can just as easily point out your faults and prescribe YOU therapy. That's right motherfuckers! Some of you are in massive need of JADED (Carl Syndrome) therapy. A few of you need to go to couple therapy to learn novel concepts like monogamy. Quite a few of you need therapy for sexual addiction because you are a walking petri dish! Others need to check into Betty Ford and/or a FAT FARM. The list can go on and on...

So, before you are quick to point out my faults, pull the plank out of your own eyes. MmHmm... I said it! I already feel better. :)

Tracksuit Power

Yes, goddammit, I look like a Lesbian in a tracksuit. Pffft.... SCREW YOU. This Lesbian is totally kicking ass. Sunday, I have a chance to clinch first place (and secure a spot in the playoffs) in the Flex League.

I owe all my recent tennis success to the magical power of a Lesbian tracksuit. Make all the U-Haul jokes you want... we Lesbians can kick some ass!

And just so you know, Marjorie, I am not always walking around mean and angry. This blog represents a smidgen of my life. There are lots of happy, lustful, and tender moments. I choose not to share those details, because that would make me seem weak. And I can't have that, can I?

Channeling Sue:

I can be one mean angry lesbian (i.e., Sue Sylvester). It's me against the world. Knock me down, and I'll come roaring back! Don't dare cross me, because even God can't help your woefully unprepared ass. You will get the full brunt of my fury. It ain't pretty.

Which brings me to my point. There has been a lot of chatter recently about me needing therapy. Grrr.... I need therapy?! There is not one goddamn person that is without faults.

You feel the need to tell me what's wrong with me? BRING IT! I relish the thought of confrontation. It would be so delicious to lock your quirky self in an escape proof room just to reduce you to tears. I would be delighted to dress you down and explain what a weird fuck you are!

Do you know what I did in the last 48 hours? I slept 5 hours, leg pressed 550#'s, squatted 350#'s, lunged, leg extended, calf raised, worked 9 hours, DEFEATED the #1 player at the Bocage Racquet Club to thunderous applause and adulation from my team, slept another 4 hours, checked out a disturbance in the chicken pen at 2am, walked around looking for my dogs that escaped, slept 2 more hours, bench pressed 325#'s, worked out back muscles and abs, and made it to work at 7am this morning.

Who is the loser? NOT ME. And that's how Sue C's it!

LIFE IS GOOD

If you were to catch a glimpse of me, you may notice I've been smiling a lot lately. LIFE IS GOOD. These are happy times. :)

Eye of the Tiger

You may not be aware, but I have been suffering with a shoulder injury for the last month. The good news is that it has diminished from an agonizing pain to an annoying one.

Being a manly man, I decided to not whine about it. I am still working out, but with lighter weights. Hell, I still belong to four different tennis leagues. As you can see HERE, I am still competitive.

I was very proud of myself this weekend. In a Baton Rouge league, I faced the top two players in three days. I pinned losses on each of them -- edging closer to making the playoffs. I now sit pretty on TOP of the division with three matches remaining.

Playing through adversity has certainly paid off.

When Claws Come Out:

A popular girl's nightmare. I venture out to the Bourbon Pub alone Saturday night. I was without my clique, but I was fine really. Sporting a tight fitting shirt and a Boston Red Sox ball cap, I walked around the bar in typical swagger.

I didn't see any cool people to hang with. I do see two individuals from the Misfit Gang. Hey, it's charity work... I'll brighten their night by my mere presence. I say,"Hi, guys!" with my legendary warm smile. I was greeted with giggles.

I was taken aback. Why are they giggling? Don't they know who I am? They go back to their conversation oblivious to the sparkling magnificence in front of them. Hmpfh!

I politely wait for them to finish talking. "How long have y'all been out?" They give me a look like, "Oh... the popular girl is trying to talk to us again!" They start giggling again. I began to get really pissed.

They excuse themselves under the pretense of needing another drink. I watch them order a drink and head straight out the door. I am left stunned with an open mouth.

Brows furrow, teeth grind and fists clench. I am now in MEGA BITCH mode. I screech, "You miscreants are lucky I lowered my station to talk to you!!! That's the last time I try and elevate someones social standing!!"

No one hears my outburst over the thumping music. No one cares. Everybody is selfishly dealing with their own damn issues.

(Thankfully, I was lovingly coddled by my posse the very next day)

Andrew Morris House

The Andrew Morris House in Natchitoches, Louisiana may never be the same after a gaggle of gays converged on the beautiful property. Unlike some B&B's, this is a gay friendly resort.

This was my room:

With each room having a Jacuzzi (some have double sized ones), there was plenty of hotness to be found:

As I was the first person to arrive, I was greeted by two very good friends (Kirt and Tod). Kirt made me a wonderful Marrakech Express drink (Gin, Orange Juice, splash of orange flower water, splash of Grenadine). I liked it because I couldn't taste the gin.

Eventually, a few locals, two couples and the single jacuzzi guy arrived. We visited and talked over a delicious gumbo cooked by Kirt. It was on this night, that we were treated to live dinner theatre courtesy of the property GM: Charles.

How can I best describe Charles? He is one wired and entertaining individual! In five short minutes, he dropped funny line after funny line. It was like we were watching a standup comedy routine! I told Charles that I thought I needed therapy, but a night of him made me feel so very NORMAL. LOL.

On Saturday, we toured downtown and then the gorgeous Melrose Plantation where Clementine Hunter once painted her famous folk art. We were treated to a great history tour of the place.

Later, we ate at the Landing restaurant and had a game party night. Even though I am competitive, I didn't show my ass too much in Scrabulous. I did get the stink eye several times when I challenged certain individual's answers.

I want to thank Kirt and Tod for organizing a very nice getaway. Special thanks to Charles for being so entertaining and attending to our every need. It was nice to make new friends and share time together in such an intimate setting. I'll always cherish this trip. :)