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The Biggest Personal Defeat of the Year
It goes to yours truly for giving in and wearing my reading glasses on a chain around my neck. I finally had enough of not being able to read a thing and coming home from CVS with packages of condoms instead of birthday candles, so I hung the damn things around my neck, sadly aware that I instantly became a dead ringer for Bea Arthur. The up-side is that glasses on a chain have given me a previously unknown sense of authority which allows me to talk to total strangers about anything I want. Yes, I have become that woman. It’s a role I have waited for all my life.
The Biggest Bargain and Tastiest Treat of the Year
This Susie goes to the frozen yogurt at Costco. For under two dollars, you can not only enjoy the creamy deliciousness of an artfully swirled tower of fat-free yogurt, but can people-watch as well--silently judging shoppers for their purchases as they line up to show their receipts at the door. Why is that man buying so many batteries? Why is that woman returning the fourteen-pack of Sponge Bob night lights? Might it have been an impulse purchase? It’s the best show in town.
Best Surprise of the Year
My fifties. I thought I’d hate them but, I've come to realize, that I actually kind of like them. After the angst of my forties--a decade during which I regularly panicked because I hadn’t yet written the great American novel or back-packed through Europe on five dollars a day--I have relaxed and now don't really care much about anything. Thanks, in part, to herbal sedatives as well as the mysterious process of maturation, I have let go of the pressure to achieve unrealistic goals. It’s been liberating.
The Biggest Transition of the Year
My boys grew up. Back in the 60s, in response to a new movement called "Women's Liberation," several of my giggling friends announced that they wanted to be astronauts and truck drivers. I wanted to be a mommy. It was retro even then and everyone but my own mother used to mock me. Well, suckers, I accomplished my goal while not a one of my Clearasil-packing posse ever went into orbit or counted her axles at a weigh station. And now, apparently, I am out of a job. Still on call as a recipe and laundry protocol consultant, thank God, I have finally accepted that the boo-boo kissing years are truly gone. And that, my friends, is still a shock.
Biggest Creepy Jerk of the Year
This award goes, for the second year in a row, to John Edwards who attempted to parade his virtue all the way to the White House but somehow ended up in bed with a scarecrow while his wife was stricken with cancer, eventually succumbing to the disease. The sight of his smarmy face, tearful behind the rain-streaked window of a limo on the day of the funeral made me sick. A diaper-thieving, DNA-denying jerk in an expensive suit, it horrifies me that he almost charmed his way into the Oval Office. House. He will not be mentioned again by the Susies unless he personally finances a cure for cancer.
The Worst Baseball Team of the Year
The Susie for worst baseball team goes, once again, to the New York Mets for continually providing their fans with heartbreak and shame (think back to the flying saucer David Wright wore on his head after getting beaned a few years back) as they made lousy trades and dashed our hopes for yet another season. Like all Mets fans, "Susan Says..." continues to hope that this year will be different but has yet to set one toe into Citifield because it's not Shea.
Please check back tomorrow for more Susie awards....
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