confession of gossip: i had lunch with a long-time ex-boy-best-friend a couple weeks ago. in my missing of him i had forgotten that he gossips. sitting across from him for two hours listening to him dish details about mutual acquaintances that i didn’t want to know, i realized i would never miss him again.
confession of boob smashing: i had my second mammogram yesterday (after putting it off an extra year because OUCH). after the torture concluded, the radiologist invited me to look at my 3-D scan. yeah, i know i’m a weirdo, but my mammogram scans made my boobs look sexy. also, my lymph nodes remind me of perfect little cough drops. i would totally suck on a hottie’s lymph nodes if i could access them (and *ahem* were into that kind of thing).
confession of trivia: do you know which states make-up the tri-state area? i didn’t know for sure until i looked it up and then the answer is trickier than one might think…because there is no official answer and unofficially the tri-state area includes parts of four states because it isn’t about states. (spoiler alert: the tri-state area refers to the greater nyc metropolitan area.)
confession of handwritten letters: if i could write letters in the shower or in my sleep or while driving, you’d receive more handwritten letters. in my waking non-showering non-driving hours my time is occupied with other things, not more important things, but other things, and i’m sorry for that because the letters i write to you in my head while showering, driving, and sleeping are filled with love and gratitude and quieter private confessions that would increase intimacy between us.
confession of youth fiction: sometimes i read youth fiction to accumulate more inputs in order to rewrite my own childhood. because why not? childhood is ancient history and memory is faulty and unreliable and the brain is elastic and manipulatable so i might as well make up an entirely new childhood to remember-on-repeat that would result in the more secure, more peaceful, more trusting person i could have been if i’d had a different childhood. but here’s the kicker—most of the youth fiction i read has a bullying theme that makes me wish i had been nicer to other kids in my actual childhood. i wasn’t a bully but as an introvert, i didn’t actively befriend the lonely freaks who were bullied when i could have. i was an isolating abused freak on the inside who was passing for “normal” on the outside and therefore i was never bullied at school (only at home). i could have befriended the ones who were bullied at school. i could have stepped between a bully and a freak during the tauntings. i could have beat the crap out of any bully because i knew how to fight and how to take a beating, but i didn’t and every youth fiction book i read makes me wish i would have.
confession of wildlife: in texas, i recognize all the wildlife. in pennslyvania, i have no idea what some of these critters are. the northeast is a different country, y’all…and i love it.