Have You Looked Under Your Bed Lately?

My friend Kelly suggested to me a few weeks ago that I should listen to a podcast she stumbled upon called Haunted AF. She learned how much I enjoy podcasts on our last drive up to GA; it’s a great way to pass the time.

This Haunted podcast is basically two hosts who talk with real people and their ghostly encounters. Some are your regular run of the mill ghosts, you know, Casper the friendly one, but some mention encounters with demons. Regular ghosts frighten me, but demons, devils & satan? They scare the BeJesus out of me.

I just drank holy water after I typed that.

I was hanging with the podcasts and this kind of being scared stuff until I listened to a podcast where people who were listening TO the podcasts were saying that they were starting to have MORE ghostly encounters and they thought it was BECAUSE they were listening to the podcasts. As if a ghost can travel through a podcast. Right? I mean that is preposterous!

Can we blame a haunting on my bad hair in 7th grade?

Earlier this week I had some time in the car, so I gave it a try. I was enjoying it in a kind of scared, but still interested type of way.

*Suz looks deeper into her car speaker*

Literally the hairs were standing up on the back of my neck as I listened to a few stories from podcast listeners who were having said encounters. So, I immediately stopped listening to the podcasts because I was not taking a chance on my ghost trying to invade my life again. No flipping way Jose.

That post/link right up there is 100% true and I pray to never relive something like that again. If you care to read it, this is part two of that link up there.

I still get chills reading it, because it’s so vivid in my mind it could have been yesterday and not 40 years ago.

13 year old Suz; haunted AF

If you’re into scary stories and you aren’t afraid of them coming to get you through your speaker, take a listen. BONUS: they feature a “Dead Pet Of The Week” too; who knew pets could haunt you? I’m gonna have a seance and see if I can bring back my Cocoa bean.

Have any of you had any ghostly encounters?

His Turn, His Face. Keeping My Privacy Private.

Thank you all for your encouragement on my whining post about my high cholesterol problem; you’ve made me feel so much better about my situation.

So, the other night I was explaining to the Coach about my Biore Strip experiment and how satisfying it was. Of course, you know he wanted to join in the party because what else do you have to do on a Friday night after dinner these days? NOTHING, that’s what.

Lord, I thought I might die from laughter. First of all, after the allotted 15 minutes when he went to pull it off, he complained about how much it hurt. Did he not get the memo? BEAUTY IS PAINFUL!

After he removed it completely, I looked at it astonished. So much unclogging happened here.


Suz: I‘ve seen smaller stalagmites before. You can’t see the MOUNTAINS on that strip?

Of course, being the good wife that I am, I took a picture and sent it to the girls. (I’ll refrain from showing this to the inter web)

Have I incited any Biore Strip sales this past week?

Suz complains about all things FB

At dinner last night the Coach and I had a conversation about his Facebook privacy. Well, it was more like this: Why the hell do you ‘friend’ our employees, I don’t want everyone knowing our shit!

Photo by Mwabonje on Pexels.com

Turns out that my smart as heck husband didn’t realize you can simply make your stuff ‘private’ for only your friends. He thought that if he ignored a FB friend request from an employee, they could see that you were actually active on FB and then hold the ‘ignore’ against you. Ppsssshaaaw

I like to keep our business and personal life separate. Call me crazy, but I don’t need people to know where we spend our time and money because you know how people are, someone will hold it against you at some point. NOT that I put anything crazy or super personal on the FB.

I went further to explain that there is no way in hell I’d put on FB about our GA house. You see, I’m much more comfortable sharing it here, on the internet with people who I don’t know than I am sharing it with family members. Go figure.

**Speaking of FB and oversharing, I have a friend who I grew up with, but have not seen in person in at least 37 years. God bless her, I know she’s a nice person and she comes from the very same humble beginnings as I did; broken family, single Mom, lots of dysfunction. But she makes me crazy on FB because most of her status updates go something like this: Checking in at the Porsche dealer; time for a new car—my husband LOVES me SO MUCH!! Should I get red or black this time?! Goodness. I’m sure that most husbands LOVE their wives but can’t afford a $100,000 car. I understand being happy about ‘stuff’, but really? It’s too much. ***

Lord, if I’m ever come across as that superficial, please give me a very uncomfortable splinter on my right middle finger as a sign.

Well, now I feel like I’ve overshared today.

So, are you as transparent on FB as you are on your blog? I know some (Kari) of you have quit FB, so refrain from blocking me and this post.

Sharing is caring, but oversharing can leave a bad taste in your friends’ mouths.


Thank You Baby Jesus and Sajib. Also, I’m Doing My First Poll & It’s Not Even The Dance Type.

Poll, Pole? I suppose, there is a difference.

You guys, you almost lost me and I’d hate to think how that might affect your lives.

I kid. But, not really. I was at my wits end and almost scrapped it all, flushed it down the drain, threw it out with the garbage, tossed it into my past. My blog that is.

After much going back and forth with the WordPress people and me completely screwing up my blog trying to fix it, my newest favorite person Sajib, saved the day. Please note his job title:

Where do you go to get a degree in happiness engineering? Sign.me.up.

I’m back in the business of not making money.

I am NEVER ever moving my blog again. NEVER.

Even the best of friends can disagree

A little backstory: My girlfriend Kelly and I are in general, twins, soul sisters. We have the same outlook on life, politics, life in general. We laugh at the same things. We enjoy the same movies/TV. We eat the same way; we can almost always split a meal because we enjoy the exact same foods. We enjoy the exact same wine. We tend to wear the same type of clothing, although, she’s a skinny Minnie and I am not any longer considered a skinny anything. We’ve showed up places wearing almost the same clothing more times than I can count over the last 30 years.

Kelly and Don have been integral with setting up the mountain house; Don hung all the TV’s, helped Coach set up wifi, Sonos, cameras, etc…Kelly is my decorator du jour because we essentially have the same taste. To be clear, we essentially have the same excellent taste, just ask us.

BUT, one thing we did not agree with was the fact that she thought I needed and iron and ironing board for the mountain house. I don’t think anyone will ever use it. I have not pulled out my ironing board in a few years. I do have a steamer, but even that hasn’t seen the light of day in at least 10 months.

Some of my favorite people do polls on their blog (Ally Bean & Kari) and I really enjoy them. Well, Kari had one regarding farts this past week, so, it’s a *crapshoot* regarding the topic.

*I made myself LOL

So, I’m getting on the poll board. Please share your thoughts so I can tell Kelly she’s a lunatic.

And speaking of irons, because who doesn’t

My Mom was a waitress most of her life and her polyester uniforms always needed to be ironed. She (or I) generally ironed them in our kitchen area on an ironing board. BUT, sometimes, she ironed them in her bedroom. On.her.bed.

This one time (not at band camp) she forgot to turn off the iron. Mom, Mark and I were out and when we returned to our apartment, it was smoky and smelly as hell. Way worse than Kari’s farts. I still remember the firemen dragging the mattress down our carpeted stairs and out the front door. Burnt fibers from the bed and our melted green carpet everywhere. Ummm.., have you ever smelled burnt rubber? Pretty damn bad. When I went to school the next day, everyone asked me why I smelled so weird; as if 7th grade could have been any worse. We couldn’t sleep in our apartment for many nights and all clothing and linens inside had to be laundered. My Mom was horrified at what had happened. *sigh*

To wrap this up:

My blog is working properly.

Even soul sisters can find something to disagree about.

I’ve added my first poll and I need to know your thoughts.

Don’t iron on your bed. Or, just don’t iron.