Sabbath Confessional

So. 

Racking my brain here.

Trying to find a subject.

From my mundane existence.

Don't get me wrong.  I cherish the mundane.  I seek the mundane.  The mundane pleaseth me.  Because even in the mundane, there is always TV. 

So in desperation, I've decided to tell some of my secrets.

Since I have never leaked these secrets to only those who know me well, I stand at the edge of risk.  Now you will all know these things.  Am I ready for it?  Am I confident enough for this kind of exposure?  I don't think I am.   But onward I trudge through the muck.  Hold your head high, Mommacita.  You're about to  reach unalterable exposure.  This is almost like TMZ.  Without the cameras and high risk paparazzi chase down I-5.

So, now, I give to you my 5 readers, some unknown facts about me, a delightful woman of mystery.

Please be kind I implore you.  Just because I'm writing it here, doesn't mean I want to talk with ANY of you about it face to face. If you do, I will turn into a 13 year old girl and run screaming from the room with a door slam that will quake the earth.


Confessional #1

I DRAW MY EYEBROWS ON EVERY SINGLE DAY EXCEPT THE DAYS I MIGHT HAVE FOOD POISONING OR MORNING SICKNESS.  NO, THIS IS NOT AN ANNOUNCEMENT.

Yes.  This is embarrassing.  Mainly because when people see me without eyebrows on they can't help themselves by saying something obnoxious like, "Gee, you look so different" or "Gee, you look like an old woman"  The latter was said to me in my freshman dorm room the first week of my college experience right after I had left the bosom of my childhood home.  Yes.  I was scarred for life.  But mainly because the scenario was repeated each time I got a new roommate, a child learned to talk, I went to girls camp etc. etc. etc.  Sometimes I look at older women and think, hey, you don't draw your eyebrows on and YOU'RE getting away with it does that mean I will get away with it at 40? Then I turned 40.  So I changed the age to 50.  Then I turned 50.  Well, you get the drift.  I will be drawing these babies on until I die.  And don't tell me to get them dyed.  I've tried.  My eyebrows are made of plastic fishing line and have you ever tried to dye plastic fishing line?  So yeah.  I became an art major in college so I might draw.

PS  I was at a ST Louis Nordstrom 2 years ago and a Mac Representative finally showed me how to do it right.  I love thinking about walking around for 55 years with stupid eyebrows.  Dig hole, jump in, pull dirt in after me.

Confessional #2

My dirtiest little secret is that I READ OBITUARIES IN THE SALT LAKE CITY DESERET NEWS AT LEAST ONCE MAYBE TWICE A WEEK.

I know.  IT"S WEIRD!!!!!!!  I was visiting my parents once, and while watching the paint on the walls age I picked up the newspaper and saw an obituary in the Deseret News for a DOG.  You heard me.  A DOG.  It was a little white one.  It was mixed right in there with everybody's beloved Daughter, Wife,  Mother, Sister, Grandmother, Aunt, and Friend.  The dogs owners really missed that dog alot.  So after reading about the life of the dog, I started reading the obituaries around it.  I kind of liked them.  Everyone was different.  Some were mushy:  "Grandma was the most sweetest most kindest  most cutest Grandma in the universe."   Some were succinct:  "Jerimiah is dead.  Obituaries cost a fortune.  The end."  Some were for little babies.  I always felt true sorrow.  Some were for children.  Same reaction.  Some were for family members of people I went to school with.  Some oozed love.  Some were full of respect.  Some are poorly written which would most likely pose the question "Got Proofreader?".   Some were beautifully written which really did leave the world a better place not like this ridiculousness piece of bleh.    Anyway, I've never found any obits that rival the ones in the Deseret News.  It's because they'll obit anyone including a dog.  Even though I've been searching and searching, I have never found another dog one.  Dog ones kill me.   I'm sure there has been one, but its just too weird to look online in another city's obituary page more than once maybe twice a week.

I just like thinking about a person's life and their weird family.  Is that so wrong?

Aren't you glad there's people out there who appreciate  other people's efforts?

What? 

No.  I am not trying to make weird normal.  Its weird and I own it.

Confessional #3

I CAN"T WATCH ANY OF THOSE 'HOARDER' SHOWS ON TV BECAUSE I GET NAUSEOUS AND I START RETCHING.

This is NOT a lie.  The thought of a house full of cat skeletons and rodent poop makes me sick. Not to mention all that stinky junk. 

Confessional #4

I HOARD HAIR PRODUCTS.

I love everything about hair products.  I love the smell, I love the thought of trying a new one, I love the thrill of finding a really great one, and this goes for everything from shampoo to hairspray.  And my friend has a niece with her beautician's license and sometimes I get to go with them to the beauty supply store, and the thought of hair products at a discounted price makes me absolutely giddy!!!!  I can't stop buying them because what if I never ever ever get to go to a beauty supply store again (even though they will take me whenever I want).  I am compelled to buy 5 of one thing and then I find a better product so I'm stuck with 4 bottles of Sugar Shock up in my closet.  It is a problem people.  I'm not a rich woman. 



This needs to be over.  I can't take any more confessionals today.  I'm all vulnerable and naked now and I've spent my life trying to be clothed because, just trust me, it's better that way.

And I'm all about the world being better.