Susan Yammouni was a quiet child, and her Mother always wondered when that all changed. Born to Lebanese parents, somewhere in the suburbs of Melbourne, and schooled by people who didn’t get paid enough to really give a shit, she has been a sandwich maker, hairdresser, make up artist, nail technician, bank clerk, receptionist, retail guru, saleswoman, carer, cleaner, cook, friend, bassist, vagabond, poet, artist, vigilante, dreamer and classical guitarist, without mastering any of them. Her recent discovery of loving people without having to ever see them has caused her disdain for family functions, weddings, funerals and birthday parties a thing of the past. She is aware that your opinion of her is none of her business, which is why you will see her living her life without any worry about how it affects others. Integrity plays a big part in her life and validation from others is just a waste of her time. She likes the fact that the only thing that she has to do on this earth is stay Aussie/Lebo and die… everything else is choice. Sudden jerky movements scare her, bad customer service makes her irritable, stupidity disappoints her, coffee grounds her (and puns amuse her), and if she’s seen cooking a feast in the kitchen, you know she is in therapy time. Her bed is her happy place, her DVD collection are her teachers, her books are her parents. She likes her fingernails out of all her body parts and thinks that world peace could be solved if everybody just dropped their guns, went home and had a cup of tea. She writes in a house where pot plants go to die, she collects recipes, art supplies, notebooks and pens… lots and lots of pens. Her advice is simple; don’t lend your books out, drink coffee in a Sippy cup whilst driving, and comfortable shoes are the key to happiness. So far she has dated every emotionally stunted type of man, has no idea when she’ll marry and wishes less ambitious people would stop asking her, or at least point her in the right direction. She paints and draws daily, has a good idea weekly, pays her bills monthly, collects books perennially, and acts responsibly yearly. Her ambition in life is to crash into a fruit cart and come up smelling of strawberries.
© Suzi Yammouni 2012