“Dammit, SUZANNE!!!”

… Is a phrase I heard often growing up.  I was never in any real trouble, I was just a typical middle child, kind of precocious and into absolutely everything.  Like a walking accident waiting to happen.  As a smaller kid, if there was a lake, pool, or ocean anywhere near me, I would fall into it fully clothed.  My mother just got to the point where she packed an extra set of clothes for me.  I played in mud, rolled around with the dogs and one time wanted to hug a bunny so hard it scratched the living shit out of me.  I was just a lot to handle.  And then as I got older, I put a cherry on top and started talking back.   It’s almost like I became someone else when my mouth opened, and instead of the sweet little girl who was standing there moments before, I became this little monster and the snarkiest snippets of the English language would just come tumbling out. I don’t know where it came from, but it’s ingrained deep inside me.  Though I outgrew blatantly disrespecting my parents (after being grounded over and over again), I still, to this day, cannot stop myself if a good one-liner comes into my head.  So, as I was growing up, you could often hear my good Catholic mother yelling “Dammit, Suzanne!” from downstairs, or into the backyard, or sometimes even around the block, and then I knew whatever I’d done, I had really done it good. Sometimes the tone was exasperation, sometimes, especially when I was older, it was pure unadulterated anger, but it was always the same words ringing throughout our home.

I grew up in a small town in southern Oklahoma, and as such, my friends from about kindergarten on were always the same. As a result, these friends also grew up hearing the resounding chorus of “Dammit Suzanne” from my parents almost as much as I did.  Naturally, it became a nickname.  And it stuck, at least until high school when I moved to another town. So when I was trying to think of a name for this blog, one that encompassed me and all my personality traits and character flaws, I had a friend say to me, you should just go with “Dammit Suzanne,” and here we are.

My mother has since passed away, which is a story for another post, but when I think about the name of this blog, I am filled with memories of being a kid, and testing boundaries, and being lucky enough to have parents who were hard on you, but twenty seconds later reminded you how much you were loved.  And I like to think about all the little outfits I ruined having a blast, and how I still like to jump into a body of water with my clothes on, and I like to think about her, and how much I pushed and how much she stayed right there beside me through it all.  So, it’s funny, twenty years later Dammit Suzanne is starting to mean something a little different to me.  And it’s nice. Welcome to my blog.

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