I have an addictive personality. I become addicted to things, people, actions, and substances quickly and when those addictions begin to bubble up inside of me, it could and has landed me in some trouble.
I’ll begin with the more benign addictions and work my way down the list to the more dangerous ones.
Clothing & Shoes
I love to shop. I’ve been known to say “fuck it” and spend the car payment or some other important bill on a hot pair of shoes, a party dress I’ll never wear, GOWNS–like I’ll ever need a friggin’ GOWN, sexy underwear, tank tops, maxi-dresses, cute jackets, “going-out” wear, lots of underpinnings and jeans, jeans, jeans-the tighter, the better! I lost a lot of weight over the past few years. I was pregnant, lost the weight, got a personal trainer–got back into hot shape, got sick, dropped to a size 00, so some of my clothing purchases are warranted, but do I really need 40 pairs of shoes? (I really don’t know the exact count, but it has to be close to 40 or 50.) Sneakers, flats, peep-toe pumps, platform pumps, sandals and boots, boots, boots. Tall boots, stiletto boots, ankle boots, Doc Martens, THREE pairs of winter boots (you never know if it’s going to be a snowy New York winter, after all.) And coats. I have four or five beautiful dress coats for the winter, plus my New York winter Puffer, vests, hats, scarves, gloves. It’s a sin, really. But it doesn’t exactly harm me. As long as I have a roof over my head and food in my belly, everything else is “lipstick money.”
I love makeup. The original intention of this blog was meant for product reviews, fashion etc. That’s why my URL is “suzyonthestreet.”My plan was to go around checking out NYC style, write about the dos and don’ts and makeup reviews, “how to” tutorials, blah, blah, blah… But it turned into something completely different. I suppose it was because I started writing during an intensely insane period of my life. A divorce. Cancer. The Scandal. How could I write about eyeliner and maxi-dresses when I had all of this other shit swirling around my mind. My insanity never stopped me from putting on my face every single day and still purchasing and playing around with my makeup. I love it. I love it. I love it. My collection is amazing and I try to make a point of using all of my products periodically so none of them go to waste or feel left out. I do have a few staples and I’ll write a post about that another day. Today, I’m writing about my addictions.
No big deal, but I can’t function without coffee. I need at least two cups a day and if I get a specialty drink, it needs to have two shots of espresso. If I don’t have my coffee, I suffer from physical and emotional afflictions. I get headaches. I’m a bitch. I’m tired as hell. Funny, for as much coffee as I drink, my teeth are still sparkling white. I’m blessed.
Please don’t judge. I know it’s the pinnacle of stupidity to smoke after being diagnosed with cancer, but my affair with cigarettes stems back to my teenage years. I smoked a few cigs a day back then, smoked heavily in my 20s and then quit right before my 30th birthday. I started smoking here and there about 5 years later before I became a full fledged smoker again. I was smoking when I found out I had cancer and my Oncologist knows about it. I can’t smoke in my apartment or around my daughter, so that curbs my habit a bit, and I plan to quit once the weather starts to get cold and it’s just not worth it to crawl out on to my fire escape for a stupid cigarette. But for now, they’re one of my many addictions. They calm me down. It’s like being reunited with an old friend who knows how to just be there without saying a word. But, I promise, I’m going to quit. I did it once before and I can do it again. And once again, I’ve been spared any yellowing of the teeth from this dirty habit. I’m a lucky chick in the teeth department. Never had a cavity either.
I’m a flirt. I flirt with everybody worth flirting with. I have a quick wit and a thick skin and a lot of practice–so much practice, in fact, that sometime the person I’m flirting with doesn’t even realize it. I use my teeth and my laugh a lot. I’ve been told I have a great laugh. I also use my hair. I have long brown hair with straight bangs. I can throw my head back and laugh and have somebody mesmerized and they’re not even sure why. I even flirt with girls. I’m not into girls sexually, but if I tone down the flirting a little, I can make a girl feel good about herself or get something that I want. This is a rarity. I haven’t used my skills on a woman in a long time, but men, shit, I flirt with at least three men a day. It’s fun. I get off on it. Because I’m also addicted to…
Men & Sex
I’ve always been boy-crazy and admittedly, I married the wrong man. While I was married to him I thought all the time about having a lover on the side. I never did, though towards the end of my marriage, I was unfaithful. It was good, and the short affair plus my cancer got me out of a bad marriage, but I do feel badly for what I did to my husband. As a man, it must feel pretty shitty to be cuckolded. Maybe if he had fucked me more the affair wouldn’t have happened, but I doubt it. An affair was bound to happen. You can’t castrate a sexually charged woman who adores men. I’m not trying to justify my affair by any means, but I know he cheated on me during our marriage, he just never got caught red handed like I did. My sex life has cooled off tremendously since the trifecta of cancer, divorce and the scandal, but I do have someone who takes care of my needs on a fairly regular basis and right now, he’s all I need. I’m so tired all of the time anyway, it’s better off that it’s a once in a fortnight type of sexual relationship and the sex is so fucking good, I mean–so fucking good, I can almost make it till the next time before getting sexually frustrated.
You Already Know this About Me
Tattoos! I’m utterly addicted to tattoos. Not just the finished product, but the process of thinking it out, working with the artist and getting tattooed. The smell of the antiseptic, the sound of the buzzing needles, the different people getting adorned with different images. I love it all. Even the smell of A&D for the first three days after the tattoo is finished. Love! After my first large tattoo, I was hooked. I’m still hooked, though I had to take a break because of my illness. As soon as I heard the good news about my cancer going into remission, my first stop was my favorite tattoo parlor. I got my lady parts tattooed on a whim. I love it. I love all of my tattoos. No regrets.
A picture says a thousand words. I can’t write much about this. If my (ex)husband found it, it would be sent to the judge so fast, my head would spin. I will say this. I see a doctor regularly. He gives me prescriptions. I get them filled. I like them a lot.
I can not tell a lie.
I am an addict.