My Resume

I started my resume today.  This is how far I got.

Suzanne McClendon

1987 145^th Street E, Sumner WA  (253) 281-7088

ken_mcclendon@comcast.net

SUMMARY

Detail-Oriented  professional with solid background and education in interpersonal communication, managing training programs, company operations and budgets.

QUALIFICATIONS

·      shit

WORK EXPERIENCE

The Land That Made Me, Me

Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan, or the dawn of Camelot.
There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me,

For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges, and  Peyton Place  was porn.

We learned to gut a muffler, we washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to dry in circles on the lawn.

We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one's seen him since.

We danced to 'Little Darlin,' and sang to 'Stagger Lee'
And cried for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me, Me.

 Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie, they never made it twice.

We didn't have a Star Trek Five, or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T,
And Oprah couldn't talk yet, in the Land That Made Me, Me.
We had our share of heroes, we never thought they'd go,
At least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We'd never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named  Jefferson  , and Zeppelins were not Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees lived in trees,
Madonna was Mary in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We'd never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed, but they were not grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and 'gay' meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never co-ed in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We hadn't seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at the bottom of the bag.

And hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Buicks came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee,
And Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride, we had no Hill Street Blues,
We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for those dysfunctions in the Land That Made Me, Me.

There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda , and cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three,
And ancient were our parents in the Land That Made Me, Me.

But all things have a season, or so we've heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A.
They send us invitations to join AARP,
We've come a long way, baby, from the Land That Made Me, Me.

So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they're using smaller print in magazines.
And we tell our children's children of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away in the Land That Made Me, Me.

A friend of mine sent this to me....I have no idea who the author is...but it's FAB!!!

Vegetarian Meatloaf

Vegetarian Sweet Potato Burger YEAH!!!!!

Tracking EVERY Bite...

Most of you who know me, know I am diabetic.  There aren't many times that I cheat and it isn't often that I don't know what my blood sugar/cholesterol/blood pressure/weight are.  I went to my doctor for a follow up on my ankle (swollen and painful) and we talked about my lab tests with my blood work.

He decided to put me on a cholesterol med now too (it was 260) on top of all the insulin and heart meds that I take.  This was it for me.  I'm done!  I need to know exactly what I eat at all times and exactly how much I eat and when I take my insulin and, etc.  SOOOOOO.....

I found a website that I can put all the foods that I am eating into, by name and nutrition information.  I now know that 50 pretzel sticks are 110 calories and about 24 carbs.  I also know that if I eat them, I have to eat cheese with them to balance out the carbs with protien.  It tells me how many calories I have eaten for any given time and totals it up at the bottom.  This is nice because it also tells me how many I have left to go.

Why am I doing this?  Because something is up.  No one can be this insulin resistant with what I eat and/or don't eat.  My suggested caloric intake is around 2000 per day.  THAT'S A LOT OF FOOD!!!!!!!!!!  Well, it is for me.  But when you look at the fact that a 1/4lb cheeseburger w/bacon and lettuce, tomatoe and bun has 640 calories; 1170 mg of sodium; 43g of carbs; not to mention the 37g of FAT, I guess you might want to SKIP THE MILKSHAKE AND FRIES WITH THAT!!!!!!  If, you add the milkshake and fries that adds another 1373 calories not to mention all the other unmentionables. 

THAT lunch, which we all LOVE to have....has a whopping 2013 calories.  Considering my daily intake should be around 2000 calories, if I ate that, I'd have to starve for the rest of the day....uhhhhh, no thanks. 

So I had a 1/2 cup of oatmeal w/blueberries for breakfast w/coffee (no sugar) and non dairy creamer; I had 2 cups of mixed salad greens (the good kind) with 4 red/yellow pepper slices, balsamic vinegar dressing, 1/3 can of white tuna, 1/2 cup fresh peas and 1/2 cup cucumbers...and a BIG glass of water.  I snacked on 10 triscuits and 1/2 oz of monterey jack cheese w/ another big glass of water....total calories for the day????     593..... and I'm not hungry either.

Come join me...just for a day...track what you eat...it's kind of fun...DON'T LIE TO YOURSELF...PUT IN EVERYTHING....you are just showing yourself where you are at...come on...it'll be fun!!!!!!

http://www.everydayhealth.com/members/account/login.aspx?ReturnUrl=%2fmembers%2fmyhomepage.aspx

The meaning of the word is.....

A few days ago, in the evening, after a day full of 104 degree heat, my children and I went to a friend's house for movies and ice cream.  We put in the movie and sat devouring our Dairy Queen Frozen Ice Cream Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough with frozen fudge in the middle. (I don't get any as I'm diabetic, but it sure looked good.) 

The movie got underway and the little blue eyed blonde girl in the film was absolutely adorable as she sang and danced and I noticed her finely ruffled clothing.  Stood out amongst her background dancers who were plainly dressed little African American girls.  The lace and the ruffles were beautiful and her white shoes were lovely.  She twirled and swirled and as she did a twisty flowing jump, I saw her undies, you know the long ones with the lace....I said "Look she's got knickers!!!"

My daughter, who is 17, looked at me and admonished, "MOM!!! That's a racist thing to say!"  I laughed until I cried and was glad I hadn't eaten the ice cream 'cuz my tummy hurt by the time I was done. "Knickers, sweetheart, not (the N word)!"

Noticing Race

Tonight Jeffy and Taylor were out in the yard running through the sprinkler.  Taylor, my little blue eyed blone, broke her arm about two weeks ago (she's four) and has a cast so we had a bag wrapped around it and she finally started cooling off. I babysit her a few days a week. 

Her brother Jeffy is a cute little brown haired boy with huge green eyes.  Jeffy saw a boy he goes to school with (he's seven) and they started talking and playing in the sprinkler.  My son, who is mixed race, black and caucasian stood on the porch watching the fun.  We are a very multi-cultural neighborhood and family.

My son was (he's 15)standing on the porch and the seven year old  neighbor boy who is Samoan looked up and stared at him.  He turned to Jeffy (who is white) and asked..."Why does he live with you?" 

Jeffy, puzzled looked at him and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well," said the little boy,"how can he live with you...he's black."

"Oh, I don't live here."  Jeffy replied.  "His Dad's black.  He lives here."

"Don't you live here?"  asked the little Samoan boy.

"No," Jeffy replied, "I'm pink."

"You aren't pink," replied the little boy.  "You look white to me."

"Only where the sun doesn't shine." Jeffy replied and they went back to playing in the sprinkler while I sat cracking up on the front porch.

Finds of the Day

All those who know me KNOW I love to thrift store shop.  Today was a day for buying.  I think it's sad, but someone must have died.  Their children obviously didn't know the half of the worth of the things their mother collected.  A word of advice to those of you who are helping someone "clean out the house" after someone passes.  Grab a teenager and put them on a laptop.  Have them simply Google some of the names or artists or brands of things you are "tossing". 

My treasure of the day today is a porcelain sculpture called "Girl with Hands Akimbo" by Lladro.

Issue Year: 1974
Retirement Year: 2000
Sculptor: Fulgencio García

Size: 7¾x3½ "

I purchased this sculpture for $4.99.  I knew it was worth more than that the moment I laid my eyes on her as I knew Lladro since the mother-in-law of one of my friends collects them.  She is in mint condition.  I looked her up on the internet when I arrived home.  She is a collector's item and sells for $180.00.

Okay, most of us know that TY Beenie Babies are worth some cash.  Some of them can sell for big bucks and some for about $5.  Well, whomever passed away, apparently her children didn't know the value of these little buggers.  I purchased every one I could find that was in mint condition and still had it's tag on it.  Some of these were in collector boxes and some had tag protectors.  I purchased about 20 or 30 of them in all for $1.99 each...many were 50% off so I got them for a buck.

This little guy...his name is Garcia, he is worth about $200.  I paid $1.99 for him.

I also got 9 more that were worth $20.  The other 20 are worth between $5 and $10.  So I spent about $50 for about 30 beenie babies and to a collector, they are worth way more than that.  SMILE!!!!  I guess I am collecting them now. (giggle)

Fourth of July FIRE works

Most fourth of July's have been pretty boring.  My husband and I aren't real drinkers and we don't party.  We enjoy more of the quiet evenings and just having a nice dinner with the kids or without the kids and going to bed before midnight.  Even on New Year's Eve we rarely make it past midnight and it finds us snoring on the couch with the ball dropping on channel 5 watching us as we snooze.

This year's fourth of July party was different.  Our neighbor's invited us over to celebrate with them and their friends and our other neighbors down the way.  We obliged since we have lived here in this community for almost a year now and only know a handful of neighbors by name and even less by anything more. 

Chloe lives next door.  She is a Weimerauner and a beautiful dog.  My dog loves her with all his heart and would desperately like to get in her yard just for a few minutes of doggie passion, but alas, we all seem to succeed in keeping them apart.  She was boarded at the kennel for the day and my dog was alone in the house hiding under the couch as we enjoyed the fire crackers and fire bombs and Mega Rockets and Betty Bombers that they had purchased and started setting off around 3 in the afternoon. 

By three when we arrived next door the party had already started.  Let me introduce you around the room. Ryan and Angela are our neighbors.  Angela is a dental hygenist and Ryan is Army Special Forces.  His three brothers came to visit for the holiday as well.  Now his best friend (whose name I can't remember) is here too, with his wife who teaches heathen 10th graders and has my same attitude about teenagers..."teach them quick before they explode with hormones".

Now the party next door was well on it's way and after the burgers and hot dogs were eaten the chips were gone and the ice cold beer (6 twelve packs) started to sit in the buckets longer.  I wondered why until I realized everyone was grabbing Coke's from the ice and heading inside to come back out with a glass of something.  That's when I added two and two together and the phrase "MaKong Coke" was uttered with more and more regularity...as were the trips inside with new Coke cans.

Around 6 p.m. we all kind of ended up down the street three houses and were introduces to Kelly and Beau and Joe and his beautiful wife along with Vicky and Aaron and God only knows how many other couples in their mid 20's to late 30's.  It became pattently obvious after a few minutes that all these men knew each other VERY well.  I started to put the connection together when I heard one man say "mission" and another say "demolition" and yet another talk about his "brothers" and his "boys" and he wasn't referring to his children or relatives.  Every last one of these men were Army Special Forces....and they had about a thousand dollars worth of high quality explosive devices to celebrate the fourth of July with.

That was when I knew we were in trouble.  I just didn't realize how much.  The small firecrackers and sparklers were lit off and enjoyed right behind the house and the few kids that were there laughed and giggled and had a great time.  It was when dark came and the M-80's and the Pipe Bombs and the metal artillery shells came out from behind the new empty coolers of beer and other mixed spirits that the real excitement started.

"This is what we do for a living man!" yelled one beer addled Special Forces soldier. 

"Hell yeah, let's blow this place up!" hollered another.  So off the men went across the road to the still empty, very dry, overgrown field where no houses have yet been built.  Roads intersected in the middle and that was where the boy-men set up their exlosives.

"Shouldn't you guys get some water or something just in case you start a fire?" I asked, forever the mother. 

"Aw hell no" came the drunk reply.  "We don't have water in the field and we haven't burned down a whole field yet." 

Explosions started going off and fireworks began shooting into the sky.  The celebration had gone from shots down the gullet to bombs in the field and everyone was having a great time.  Until the fires stared...six of them in all.

Each fire was about 15 to 25 feet in diameter before they could be put out with the coolers of melted beer ice we wives ran from across the street.  Hoses were turned on and buckets were filled and after about 15 minutes all six fires were put out with no loss of life and only about twenty pairs of melted shoes a few scratches, less hair on arms and a few singed eyebrows.

Leave it to fifteen Army Special Forces guys to do the fireworks on the Fourth of July in the open field across the street and that's like giving a new set of knives to your two year old and telling him to have fun.  Stupid.  So this Fourth is a memorable one if anything.  I know my neighbors better and know for sure that if I ever need anything or anyone blown up...this bunch of guys can do it, and will have fun in the doing...especially if alcohol is involved.