confession: “eat mor chikin.” it annoys me that the chik-fil-a ad campaign employs misspelling cows. why would i follow the directive of illiterate bovine?
confession: i eat more chicken anyway, but not from chik-fil-a and not because the silly cows advise it. i eat too much chicken. i wonder if i’d be happier and less skittish and spastic if i ate less chicken. i doubt it.
confession: i don’t quite believe that “you are what you eat.” i think it is truer that “you are what you think.”
confession: if there is a pool in the backyard at a party, i will *accidentally* fall or get pushed in. unless the party host is a friend of mine, in which case, i’ll jump in without pretense.
confession: i’m looking to make friends with more people with backyard pools. yes, i know that is a superficially trifling standard for friendship. so what? i’ll bring the booze if you have a pool. we’ll splash around for an hour and see if we have anything else in common. i’ve known of friendships based on less desirable characteristics and i’ve witnessed drunk hook-ups resulting from lower qualifications.
confession: i’ve been assigned to write something happy. i’ve done it, but i don’t like it. okay, i didn’t quite do it. i cheated. i wrote something peaceful and claimed that it was happy, but it isn’t any good and i have to rewrite it.
confession: i love borrowing books from friends’ bookshelves because then i read outside of genres i would borrow from the library. earlier this week i finished a crime novel that i never would have read if i hadn’t borrowed it from another reader i trust. i loved it. i didn’t want it to end. the ending surprised me. i love surprise endings. i love reading books better than ones i can write.
confession: i do many things well that i take for granted. you do, too. we could be more appreciative and grateful for the gifts, skills, and talents that come naturally and easily to us.
confession: i thought about leaving town again. i decided against it. i’m staying put. i have shit to do and things to deal with. enough running away for a while.
confession: i’ve always considered myself a west coast girl, but last week in florida i discovered beaches that exceed california’s in length, texture, color, and vibe. i fell in love with florida last week. i’m counting the months until i return.
confession: maybe i’m self-hating a little less since i gave it up for lent. i’m trying.
confession: there are several laps in town that i’m welcome to sit on. i’ve missed sitting on those laps while i was out of town.
confession: i have an overflowing dresser full of underwear that i don’t wear and i want more and more and more. march puts me in a fancy-panties mood. fuck yoga class, i’m going shopping.