Category Archives: Confession

They call me “Clueless”

Confession, ,

I grew up during a more innocent time and am still a little naive.    Actually, some say I’m clueless.   Examples?

I always thought the song went, “One toe over the line”.   I  liked it  and sang along loudly, enthusiastically,  and incorrectly for years.   About ten years ago I learned the word was “toke” and also learned what that meant.  

 And I thought the Doobie brothers were a bunch of siblings from the Doobie family.

Come on, confess.   There are times you’ve been clueless, right?  Please share.  I’ll feel so much better.

Lies I tell myself

Confession, ,

First, let me say that lying is not a good thing.  

Second, here’s a list of lies I tell myself:

1)            I’ve aged well and my eyelids don’t look a bit droopy.

2)            This new shirt completely disguises any physicals flaws. 

3)            No one can tell my hair is getting gray.  Those lighter strands  look like blond highlights.

  Okay, your turn.  What lies do you tell yourself?

Why are these women so happy?

A question, Confession, Musings, , , ,

When I was looking for clip art of a woman cleaning a stove for my last blog, I discovered that, by and large, most of the photos which feature women cleaning show really happy smiling women doing a multitude of chores.  Cleaning a toilet has never made me as happy as the woman on the left.  In fact, I can’t think of a time when I beamed at the toilet brush.

Nor have I ever danced and sung with the mop.  

My thought is that I’m not doing housekeeping correctly.   I don’t smile while cleaning.  I have always considered it a chore, one to be approached only when one cannot get through the hallway or the odor threatens to asfixiate all inhabitants.   Although I don’t hate loading the dishwasher and hate washing clothes less than that, I cannot think of a single household chore I like–much less one that makes me smile or dance.  In fact, about the only way I get through them is by having the television on so I don’t have to notice I’m cleaning

Which brings me to this question:  what do you do to make housekeeping fun?   I mean, while sober.   

Thank you.

Shameless Self-promotion

Confession, Musings, Writing, , , , ,

At heart, I’m a shy, timid  soul.  Some of my friends–possibly every one of them–will not believe this; however, I’ve  always had trouble asking people to do something for me.    One example of many:  when I was a Brownie, I could not sell Girl Scout cookies.  The thought of going up to a neighbor’s door and asking them to buy a box terrified me.  Fortunately, my family liked cookies because we had  dozens during that time of year.   

And, yet, I find promoting my books very easy.  I think I may be able to play a part:  AUTHOR.  As author, I have no trouble handing out bookmarks to people I’ve never met, entering bookstores and introducing myself to staff, asking if I could blog on a site, or making any number of pushy requests.

But I believe I did my most shameless bit of  self-promotion a week ago.  As I’ve written, June 18th I had surgery on my droopy eyelids.  As the gurney I was on was shoved into  pre-op, I promoted my latest book to the anesthesiologist.   She seemed very interested.  Only wish I’d tucked a few bookmarks in the pockets of my hopsital gown.  

Can anyone top this?  (And please forgive any typoes.  I still cannot see well!)

My name is Jane and I’m a chocoholic

A question, Confession, , , , , , ,

I adore chocolate,  lust after it.  I love the feel of the smooth sweetness on my tongue, touching my lips.  Just seeing a piece of chocolate cake makes me happy.  Chocolate cheesecake throws me into songs of joy.

I’m also diabetic, not fun but under control.  Sort of.

In a perfect world, my diet would consist of anything chocolate, pizza and cinnamon bread—maybe lemon ice cream. 

When I go to the grocery store, my hungry eyes fall on delicious treats and I howl in despair because I cannot have them.  Well, actually, I don’t howl out loud because I’m pretty sure the sound would frighten small children and their mothers.  I’m a sensitive diabetic even when craving my brownie.   Anyway, when I see something I yearn to eat, I pick it up and put it in my shopping cart.  I wander around the store for a few minutes, then I return to the shelf, put “my precious” back and the craving is less. 

I must trick my brain.  I didn’t realize my brain was so easily duped but, if it works, great.

Do you have any tricks you use to resist food you shouldn’t have.  Please—no mention of self-control.  On this blog, that’s considered a four-letter word.

Confessions of a Compulsive: part one

Confession, Musings, , , ,

I’ve always considered myself to be flexible, a person open to new opportunities, unafraid of change.

Imagine my surprise to discover this isn’t true.

The first hint of this was when I discovered it was impossible for me to  read the LIFE section of the newspaper “out of order”,  the advice column first, then the comics on the right page before those on the left.  As soon as I recognized my problem, I tried to read the funnies on the left side first.  I felt incredibly uncomfortable.   Oh, I could have done that, but it didn’t feel right.  Why put oneself under stress when reading the comics?

The second was when I discovered I couldn’t fall asleep if I lay on the “passenger” side of the bed.

The last strike was yesterday as I wrapped a package to mail.  I used one of those envelopes that has a handy tab to tear open.  However, I never trust the postal service, an unfounded lack of trust I know, but I’m certain anything I send will burst open and the contents will litter  the conveyor belt, my personal life spewed out before strangers  in an unknown city.  For that reason, I use several feet—sometimes yards–of tape to make sure that won’t happen.  Sadly, it makes the package difficult for the recipient to open.  This time, I even taped over that handy little tab.s

Don’t even get me started on my problem with sliced bread.

For all these reasons, I have to admit, I’m not adaptable in certain situations, more of them than I  like to confess.

What about you?  Do you have certain ways you have to do things?  Won’t you share them with us?  Does this bother you or those you live with?  Can you laugh at yourself about these?

If you confess, it will make me feel much better.

(This blog was originally written for the Avaloners blog, a site for those who wrote for Avalon.  Now that Avalon is now part of amazon.com, this is an homage to my Avalon books and friends)