BOO!

Hey People. Sorry- no jammin' tunes for you today. Fav Music Fri is being preempted by Halloween! I love costumes, and I really love scary movies and stories-- fictional and true ones! Some of the very scariest movies ever-- to me-- involve blurring that line between sanity and insanity, and ghosts. (Is it any wonder that's what the YA trilogy I'm working on deals with?)

Check out some of my favorite scary movies-- These vids are cool because there are people talking about why the movies are so good, then showing a tiny clip.

This first one-- "The Sentinel" is from 1979. I've seen it about 3 times, and the clip they show in this vid is the one that has stuck with me all these years. Worth checking out. SUPER CREEPY!



Basically, after the unsuspecting "super model" moves into her new apartment and socializes with some of her very weird neighbors she discovers no one has lived in the building for years, and they're actually all ghosts of psychos and killers. Oh- plus there are a bunch of the "damned" wandering around because the door to hell in the lobby is leaking. (bites nails)

This next one is from the early nineties I think-- Jacob's ladder. The entire movie you're wondering if the main character is nuts and being tormented by his delusions-- or if there's something supernatural going on. I really like scary movies that aren't just gory but really are suspenseful and keep you guessing.



Another thing that really separates good scary movies from bad is atmosphere. You can't beat "The Shining" for setting. This one kind of has it all and still holds up today.



That whole "crazy" theme is viscerally scary to me-- both in terms of wondering if you yourself are going nuts-- and that queasy discovery that whoever you're talking to or whatever-- is actually batshit crazy. There's a moment when you realize it-- and a million butterflies explode in your stomach and you wonder why the hell this person has zero'd in on YOU. EEEP!

Ghost stuff-- also unendingly creepy. I've had a few ghostly encounters and my sceptic side and cosmic side are constantly duking it out. If anyone has any scary stories about ghostly experiences-- TELL ME!

This is one of my very favorite scary movies ever! "The Others" deals with that idea of reality being, well, relative. Is what you're experiencing "real?" Isn't that the essential question when it comes to our sanity? I love the shift in paradigms within this movie. Awesome storytelling, and absolutely chilling!



So-- what are your favorite scary movies? Why? Is there a certain scene or aspect of it that sends your fright meter off the charts? Tell! Tell!

Creepy Doll-splosion

Hey people. Last week I took my first whole day off (okay-- almost, did do a tiny bit in the evening) in ages and went on a disturbia safari with pals Linda and Jamie. I was not disappointed. It was almost like the universe was puking creepy dolls all over us!

First stop-- Axman in St. Paul, always a disturbia wonderland. Really, I don't know why people put up with all those obnoxious, loud, incontinent babies when they could just build their own super quiet well- behaved one that could be turned off with the flip of a switch. Instant babysitter!

Then there was this "display". When you're in the store, populated by hipster art geeks and sweaty, palid, hard core nerds collecting electronic components for their unibombs and fembots, stuff like this is all the more creepy. There was tons more, but I'm saving it for future posts.

Then we went to a place Linda and I had hit once about a year ago called "Hunt & Gather" in S. Minneapolis. OMG you guys-- the first thing I saw were these eyes! AAKK!

Then I turned around and saw this...

and this...

and this...

Everywhere we looked there was more creepage! I was in heaven! Check out this display with doll body parts presided over by Jesus-- or possibly some old time-y hippy. (Really-- how do we know?) Plus weird old medical beakers etc are always kind of ick... And look you guys-- globs of unattached hair! EEEEP! A masterpiece of odd!

"Mmmm, I'll have a leg!" It was endless!

If you are into weird, this place is worth the trip.

Look at the attention to detail-- the way they made the antlers pierce the pumpkins, as well as, er... the heads, the eyeless heads...

Just when I thought we'd seen it all, I found this...

and this.

It wasn't all dolls. There was other bizarreness. Look at the tag-- "He's smiling!" Sick. Clearly these people are on the same page as me. See Mom?? See??? It's not just me that's weird!

This was in the basement. Need I say more? Can you imagine being locked in this place after hours?

When they all come to life and begin shambling and floating around and hundreds of disembodied little kid voices begin chanting "Mommy, Mommy..." and crying, and wanting to be picked up? (~shivers~)

Happy Halloween week! Tune in Fri for creeptastic tunes and videos.

Still in love with Penny

Hey people. Remember how excited I was last spring when I decided to get my mountain bike Penny instead of a drum set? It was one of my best decisions in recent memory.

I've come a long way since I started running the trail a couple years ago. I used to find that challenging enough and not even be able to imagine how anyone rode a bike on it. Then slowly, over time, I began thinking, "Well, maybe this one little part I could try...", and now I ride though the whole place-- Well, technically there are a few parts I still have to get off and walk, but that's down to only like, three or four places now.

Next Sat Dan and I are going to ride in our first race over there-- a Halloween costume event. You know me and costumes, and since it sounds like mostly a screwing around thing it makes me feel secure enough to do it. I know I'm not good enough yet to go in a "real" race. -- But I'm way better than I was! (And notice I'm now saying "yet.")

The mountain biking has done wonders for my inner nutball-- that spinning clockwork thing I get where I feel like I am a capped hydrant. The trail always seems to give me just what I need-- an energy buzz, a laugh, time with a friend, a nature break, sometimes a little scare, excitement... It's taken the place of needing to pump non-stop metal though my headphones and wishing something exciting would happen. It's like a valve.

Last week I got to take this really cool girl I know out for her second ever ride. She was so excited to get a mountain bike for her Birthday, but then only rode it once. (EDIT: Correction-- not a B'day gift, her cousin gave it to her- used bike.) I knew something hadn't gone right. Sure enough, she went out with her hubs and his friend-- typical daring dudes who ride all the tech features like the teeter-totter etc. They told her they'd take her through the easiest section and took her into #3-- the third hardest, and didn't wait up for her or explain or show her one thing. I'm sure she was scared even though she didn't tell me that, and there of course was TONS she couldn't even ride, plus she was all stressed thinking they were probably waiting for her to catch-up somewhere (not). : / How fun right?

I was so glad to be able to show her it is fun, in my girl way. Being a newb, and a girl makes me uniquely qualified to give a beginner lesson at this. For one thing, I still remember how scary things look at first (Guys just don't have that same fear level. It's why it's up to girls to continue the species I think.), and I know how little girls actually come into this knowing. There are a lot of skills guys already have from growing up popping wheelies and even crashing and falling off. Girls just ride their bikes around the neighborhood and try not to scratch the paint, and try really hard to never fall off (we're more risk averse).

I got to tell her some stuff I had to figure out for myself to make it easier for her-- like resisting the urge to grab the brakes in certain parts, and how to let her bike roll through rough patches, let it bounce over things, that it's made to take the abuse and it will be fine. I showed her the trick of riding switchbacks, and how to position her body on the bike to be a shock absorber, to stay low, and told her about keeping her weight in her heels, and how when it get's sketchy you need to keep your butt off the seat.

We rode through 3 different sections a couple times and she did really well-- rode things it took me a while to work up to because I didn't know how, had never even seen anyone else do it to learn by watching. She really had fun which is the most important thing. Girls are different. I think we take instruction better than guys, and actually feel more comfortable getting it than not. Anyway, it made me feel good to be able to share what I have learned so far, and maybe recruit another gal to ride with.

Edit to add: This chick is so cool and funny. She told me some hilarious stories, one involving charging the little neighborhood kids a quarter to pet a dead parrot she found in her neighbor's trash when she was five. We're riding again tomorrow. Yay!

A not so brief history of Sue & Dan

Hey people. Today is me and Dan's 16th anniversary-- although since we lived together for 10 years before getting all official-- I'm calling it big 26. Over the years, astounded friends and family members have questioned just how I managed to get so lucky, and how we've held this thing together all these years (duct tape, old coat hangers, and twist-ties mostly). I thought maybe if I went all the way back to the beginning I could provide a few insights on just how you pull off "happily ever after."

Back in the early Seventies, somewhere in St. Paul MN, young Daniel Seeger spent most of his time doing "boy stuff"-- building stilts so tall he had to get on the garage roof to get on them and walking around the neighborhood, building forts, smashing up his bike performing various stunts, doing stuff like this---

--broken up by occasional emergency room visits.

Meanwhile, back in the early Seventies, Little Suzie Westley (moi) spent most of her time doing, well... her own thing. I was a bit of a tom-boy with a twist, so I liked building forts, playing around outside, and sometimes dressing animals in costumes.

"Come and get it ladies." Despite this rather Leif Garret-ish shot of young Dan, he was mostly goofy and funny, and extremely nice, especially to animals and littler kids.

Meanwhile little me was goofy, funny, almost obsessed with animals and being outside. I think I was pretty nice too. I know I did not like mean stuck up kids at all, or boys who thought they were really great and picked on other kids.

Fast-forward to the Eighties (thank God right?) Young Dan's hijinks caught up with him when he broke his leg skiing. It was actually turned around backwards with the ski still on. He still has a rod in it. He also, disturbingly?- dated a series of brown-haired, curly-headed Sue's. (wtf Dan??? Have a type much?)

I, on the other hand, observed my friends becoming increasingly OBSESSED with boys.

Here's where we need to psychoanalyse a bit: I've since discovered many many women were like this- obsessed-- because their heads got kind of messed up from having low self-esteem & not enough daddy-attention. I had a really great dad. The things that screwed-up my head left me with a certainty that safety was not to be automatically found in a guy. Actually, more often than not, the threat originated from a guy-- especially one who liked you too much.

Guys were like nitro- incredibly destructive, and unstable. Since I could open my own jars, did not expect anyone to take care of me or protect me, and boys had proven to be unwilling to be deployed as weapons to vanquish my enemies or otherwise do my bidding, they were mainly to be cautiously avoided.

This was deeply disappointing to me, because I'd always really liked them. Growing up my very bestest friend was a boy.

I wound-up needing boyfriends though- to deter other guys. (Sorry Sue's ex-boyfriends. I didn't mean to use you.) This was #2 (#1 was a very creepy and ultimately dangerous stalker. This was before anti-stalking laws. That is basically a novel length story.)

#2 was "dreamy", according to my friends. To me he could be fun at times, got me into a lot of parties, and was a containable threat. He wasn't actually a cabbie, he just thought this looked cool. He wasted about a year and a half on me.

This is #3, a guy we're actually still friends with today. He used to get baked beyond belief and do advanced calculus. We spent tons of time smoking pot in his room. I think we both just liked being a pair to make things more hang-outable with the circle of friends we hung with. Dan was in this circle too. #3 was really nice, and we hung out for about a year and a half before I broke-up with him, ON Valentine's day at El Torito. I didn't tell him then, but I'd developed a huge crush on Dan. It wasn't fair to stay with him while having the complete hots for another guy.

Dan and I did the "just friends" thing for about six months before getting together. By then the gravitational pull was so strong our first kiss lasted about 5 hours (not even kidding). We were already living together with a couple other people in an apartment. We've been together ever since. I was nineteen, he was 20.

I wanted to interview Dan about our relationship, but not surprisingly, he wouldn't cooperate.

So I guess explaining everything will be up to me. Dan has this weird ability to pull the love through me out into the world. He's just essentially good. Can you see it? (That is my nephew- We have no kids by choice.)

How about now? Look at those eyes. There isn't one thing fake about him. My mom once told someone "Sue didn't wind-up with Dan because she needed him-- She picked him." That's true, but I think I needed him on another level that didn't have to do with the usual ways girls need guys. I think I needed him to be by my side, next to me as I did my own thing, letting me be me.

We like the same things.

We are both in love with the world.

Usually trying new things is my idea, but he'll go along with almost anything, and maddeningly be better at it than me. This was his first wheelie attempt in about 35 years.

But he stood there for nearly an hour cheering me on and taking a bazzilion pictures of me trying and trying and trying before eventually pulling off some tiny, inches-high wheelies. This was around my 45th birthday last summer. He could have rolled his eyes and made a bunch of mid-life crisis cracks, but he didn't. Inside we're both still the same kids.

I've gotten more comfortable over the years with letting him take care of me in the traditional ways. "Being the man."

Now it's practically my fall-back position. "A giant spider-- SAVE ME!"

And he lets me be "the girl",

but in my case, you never really know what you're going to get day to day, and he's fine with that. He doesn't always get me-- no one on Earth including me does-- but he accepts me.

This was taken a day we spent on the river together in the kayaks last summer. Delusionally I wore a bikini because I thought I could pull it off. When the pics came out of the camera I was really bummed. I'm not fat, but nature pulls this dirty trick as you get older of making your skin just not as taught as it's always been. God did I feel old and ridiculous! But Dan still took a bunch of shots of me, some kind of pervy ones when I wasn't looking, and all day made me feel like the hottest chick around. Now that's love.

We want the same things out of life. We routinely crack each other up. We talk about problems.

I sent him a questionnaire about us. He filled it all out and sent it back to me. See? Still appeasing me after all these years. (sighs) One of the questions was, "If I got all gross would you still love me?" He said, "Of course. I'd get all gross with you."

In the end I guess I'm still not sure how I lucked-out. I guess since I wasn't desperately searching I didn't just cling to the first guy to come along who wanted me. That gave the universe time to get us together. He claims he knew I was "the one" as soon as our giant make-out session/first kiss. Before that even, all I knew was I wanted to spend all my time with Dan. There was a very strong magnetic pull to him I didn't understand but couldn't ignore.

It's still almost the only thing that really matters in my life. If everything else went away, (and sometimes it feels like that is about to happen- when I feel all unhinged like I'm going to get swept away and disappear) I'd still have that, and be okay. Dan keeps me anchored, and makes my life happier and better.

Weird Wed- Haunted Hair & cat wigs

Hey people. That's right- You can now get a wig for your cat. I know my own cats, who are completely covered head to toe with fur, have never really expressed the desire to have even more hair, but...

If this is something you think your cat would be into, you can now go to kittywigs.com to get your cat it's very own wig. Thanks to Trusty Pam for this disturbia find.

So, the other night Dan and I had one of our weirdest arguments ever. Keep in mind we were especially wound-up for some reason. He'd already shoved a bag of moldy hamburger buns in my face, which we then had a stale bun pillow fight with.

Yes. We're both really weird I guess. Moldy buns and horseplay entertain us for up to fifteen minutes, and in my case, even longer.

So we were watching this show where a guy had to spread his wife's ashes, and he reached into the urn and began doing it by hand. I grossed-out. I said I would not want to actually touch the ashes, even if they were his, because they were dead body ashes. Ewe. He said there was no difference between those ashes and others.

I said, "So if I had wood ashes in one urn, and incinerated dog poop in the other, you wouldn't care which one you stuck your hand in?"

He goes, "Well, I'd have to see them first."

Me- "Really? REALLY? There's actually a scenario where you'd go, 'Those dog poo ashes do look a little more appealing. I'd much rather touch them?'"

Clearly another win for me imo.

This led to a big discussion of all the things I refuse to touch like disembodied hair & dryer lint (It's rank. Dead skin cells galore people!) Once hair or skin or whatever is not attached-- keep it the heck away from me. Gross. So the video below featuring a haunted house, weird zombie-ish lesbian (?) hair-covered models, and piles of attacking hair is definitely Halloween fare to me.

I'm combining Weird Wed and Fav Music Fri this week because fri will be a tmi-filled anniversary post, possibly with embarrassing pictures. We'll see.

Enjoy Peaches' "Talk To Me."



Have a good Wed. Rock on peeps.

Cat Drama, and glasses...

Hey people. This is Camper and Ray. You can't really tell from this pic, but they pretty much hate each other. Nothing personal, just some asinine male imperative they can't seem to overcome. They spend a lot of time within feet of each other-- the whole "keep your enemies closer" thing.

The other night I went to let them in. There they sat, side by side, inches apart, looking both guilty and pissed off, soaking wet and caked with mud.

They'd gotten into anther little tussle, in the stream bed this time, apparently. It's the only place on our property with that kind of black, goopy mud. This pic of Ray was taken after I'd tried to wash him off with a rag. They both wound-up needing kitchen sink scrub-downs.

The next day they went back to their usual Spy v.s. Spy mode.

Meanwhile, Mike and Tootie's cuddlefest continues.

Believe it or not, all these were taken on different days.

Yesterday I dug though our box of Halloween get-ups. I've almost talked Dan into going in this Halloween mountain bike race with me. Of course anything that involves costumes, and is active-- I want to do.

Anyway, I found an old pair of my mom's reading glasses. I used to call them her "birth control glasses" when I was in high school. Nice huh? (I am so lucky I don't have some snotty kid lurking around my house to remind me of how old I am. Sorry mom.) Anyway, I'll probably be needing reading glasses sometime this year. And now I think they're kind of cute in a nerdy way. Trippy to say the least. This is def one of those moments I would have issued the "if I ever ____, just kill me" sanction on when I was young. Glad I've lived long enough to become ridiculous.

Geek chic?

In other SueNews:

I'm getting kind of fried, but still have lots to do in the next three weeks. The joint that tends to wear-out that connects my thumb to my hand is getting cranky, and I think I'm suffering from the cumulative effects of the lousy air quality in my shop. The suck-wow (my work bench/ exhaust system) is working pretty good, but there is still a coating of metal dust and spray paint particles on every surface in my shop, so... not super pure air.

I've had what's left of a cold for 4 weeks now-- the last vestiges refusing to let go, mostly in the form of rubber cement in my lungs. Any time I get sick it really attacks my lungs and usually turns into bronchitis, probably because they're always a bit compromised. Dan is really on my butt about this lately. There is probably a respirator mask in my future, even though I know I'll feel all claustrophobic and hate it.

Also I'm just getting a bit burned-out. I've been working pretty full blast since the beginning of June. So have all of you right? But when I'm getting ready for something (like I have been since then, one event after another) I wind-up working weekends & some evenings, and spending a lot of my "off" time working in my head. I wind-up never really feeling like I'm off, and I get worn-out physically too. Anyway, reaching the end-- getting to that hitting the wall point and hoping I get everything done before I hit it.

I have to say I have a few people in my life who will just never really get what I do, and their little jabs about my work schedule etc ("must be nice" "some people have to have real jobs" "what are you doing today?" "working" "on what?" (like it's just some hobby of mine) etc) that I usually take with a grain of salt are wearing pretty damned thin about now. I wouldn't belittle someone else's job. Why do people feels it's acceptable to do to me? Do other creatives get this attitude?

I know being self-employed looks pretty appealing compared to working for some doofus at a job you hate-- but come on. It's still hard work.