Susie's Day

I dreaded this day all year. I almost got out of it and all, with my changing my phone number, but being my neighbor she just stopped by, walked into my house and yelled at me for not being assessable. Then again, Susie is like that. She doesn't doesn't notice my boundaries. If my jeep is in my drive way, she will walk in. If she calls and I do not pick up, she will just show up in my house without knocking. "I tried calling and you didn't answer your phone." I like Susie, she is my friend. Sometimes I just don't want to be near Susie. Or anyone. "Oh yes, I heard the phone ring. I just didn't want to answer it." That offends Susie to no end. "But it was ME. Just wanted to see what you are up too." If there is a strange car parked in my driveway for overnight, she wants to know who's it is. But then again, she has hauled my garbage out to the end of my driveway on pickup day. Some time she would come and check on me, before my transplant, to make sure I was not unconcious on the floor.Her kids are grown beasts and her husband a lazy pig, but Susie is a good person.
"You got Wednesday off?", she asks. Why is she bothering to ask, I think, you know my schedule better than I do. "Yes", I replied weekly, knowing full well what she was up too. "Well then, your going with me to celebrate." I was cornered in my own home with no way out. "Susie, I'm in my jammie's here girl, do I look like a party?" "You'll get better. And put on some clothes. Answer your phone when I call you on Wednesday before I come get ya."
Her birthday lunch would be good, that I knew. But she would eat like a girl. A bland girl who avoided spice the way I avoid unnecessary chatter on my few moments to myself, and only ate a minuscule amount of salad and spend the rest of the day complaining of how full she was. And then she would drag me from potpourri shop to candle shop then to the incense store and the bed and bath, boutique to boutique trying her best to make a girl out of me, all the while my head would start to pound and my nose would a suffer few small aneurysms from the mass fake chemical aroma's infused into the decoratives I would have to admire for my friend and the board shop keepers entertainment. All the while I swear to myself and sneak furtive glances at my watch, and promise myself by next year I will make up an excuse not to do this again, and day dream of painting my bathroom light lacier blue or sitting in my chair watching "My life as a dog", while eating cardamon buns and not caring if I zip my jeans ever again.
But every year it is the same. The best part is when she pulls into my yard and I jump out of her truck clutching a gift bag of something stinky and floral I don't want and plan on chucking into the garbage as soon as I get in my door, but turn and chirp, "Hey Susie thanks. Thanks for taking me for a girl day for my birthday." And she answers with her big brown eyes shinning, "Yes, it was fun. Lets do it again next month OK?"
And I won't. Cuse I'm not a nice person, like Susie.

*not actual b-day and even tho it sounded lesbian (due to last post) wasn't