How I became a Confessional Professional

Last one – A Confession.

Every parent I run into lately is worrying about their child’s first penance.  Mine still stands out clearly in my mind to this day.

Waiting in the glaringly shiny, highly polished pews – clasping my sweaty palms together.  Nervously trying to sort out what I was going to say.  Rehearsing the dialogue in my head because I was SURE I was going to forget my speaking part.  This, officially, ended my acting career mind you.  All this going through my mind while staring at the ornately carved door that led to the  tiny, dusty, spider filled room.  I was hyperventilating just thinking about it.  I was truly freaking out!

My turn.  Oh.  No.

The priest opens the door to peer at me through that baroque wooden screen.  What could I have possibly done wrong to be forced into this miniature torture chamber?  I was all of seven years old.  As old as my youngest is now.  The worst thing he does is not go to sleep on time.  I was much more, ahem, rambunctious than he is, but still?  I was seven, give me a break.

I look up and freeze.  Yup, just as I suspected  – he can see me.

“Bless me father for I have sinned.  This is my first confession.  I…I…I….”

And then I did it, I lied in the confessional.  I don’t even remember what I said.  I do remember thinking that whatever it was I did do, I couldn’t possibly tell this priest what it was.  Because, let’s face it, that wooden screen was not doing it’s job of giving me anonymity as I already mentioned.  He knew darn well that it was me on the other side of that screen.  He knew my name. He knew my sister.  He knew my aunt.  He knew all of their friends.  How could I tell him the truth? This was some kind of trick they were trying to play on me.  Was there a camera in the corner filming me like in Candid Camera?  Was that guy going to jump out and fill me in on this cruel joke?

No jack in the box for me.  This was real!  Then, I couldn’t stop myself.  The lies kept coming and coming and coming.  Finally, my tongue started to feel swollen and my throat felt like it was filled with sawdust.  The words finally got stuck there and halted.

Phew.  That wasn’t so bad.

Is that all child?

Umm…yeah.

I got off pretty easy I thought.  I didn’t go to hell and my palms were finally dry.  My penance.  It was something like ten Our Fathers and three Hail Marys.  All for LYING to him.  It was absurd, and I knew it. He must have known I was lying.  Didn’t he?  Maybe not.  I could get good at this.

Go in Peace.

I always made up for it by asking for forgiveness for whatever it was that I thought I did wrong.  I’d look up at the statue of Joseph on the side altar staring down at me while I was reciting my Our Fathers and tell him what it was I really did – which, like I said, what could it have been I was only seven.  I’d double whatever the penance was just to put a band-aid on the guilt I was feeling and just for good measure in case everything about going to hell if I didn’t confess my sins was really true.

I find the whole topic cringe worthy to this day.  I realize my experience is not the same or even close to being the same as everyone elses,  but it was mine.   I became a confessional professional after that.  I still had anxiety about going into that dusty cubicle, but I never worried about what I was going to say during confession again.  I knew something would come to me.

Two Pictures

Last post too intellectual for husband.

Two Pictures that describe who I am right now.

Contemplative.Creative. Soul searching.Reinventions.

 

 

 

 

 

Family.Health. New adventures and new bathing suits (that one is in the garbage!)

Baciami …

I find the next three meme challenges, well, challenging.  I could take the easy way out and get all deep and dirty into my physical proclivities, but I won’t.    Aww.  Stop, I can hear a few of you all the way over here! I’ll give you one and that’s it.

When you put your mind to it, there are so many ways in which a person can be turned on…there is the spiritual aspect of it.  The ecstasy.  And, yes, I chose my words carefully there – “the ecstasy”.  Various saints and martyrs who have reached that height of awareness, or ecstasy, were constantly brought up to the eager ears of my fellow Catholic School comrades.  The subject matter was titillating, to say the least, while we sat raptly listening all buttoned up and tucked in to our homogeneous uniforms.  I didn’t “get it” until I was an adult.  One of the more famous references is to the Ecstasy of St. Theresa, immortalized by Bernini.

The information out there on ecstatic encounters, ecstatic prophecy, ancient ecstatic religions is just mind blowing.   Okay, I’m going to stop right there.  I fell down the internet induced psychotropic rabbit hole this morning on this subject matter and it’s time to come back from my trip.   What can I say, I have a thirst to learn and I find religious origins fascinating.  It really comes down to the cultures that surrounded the religion at the time of  inception.  I should have been an Anthropologist, this is becoming more apparent the older I get.

Anthropologist:  1. The scientific study of the origin, the behavior, and the physical, social, and cultural development of humans.

2. That part of Christian theology concerning the genesis, nature, and future of humans, especially as contrasted with the nature of God: “changing the church’s anthropology to include more positive images of women” (Priscilla Hart).

But I digress, I really feel that what turns a person on is an infinitely evolving aspect of ones self.  From my teens to being almost *gasp* forty my “turn ons” per se, have varied greatly.  Some years I was attuned to who I was and what I wanted.  I even, on occasion, have found that proverbial pot of gold, but most days I wake up grasping for that thing that’s going to make me tick and run smoothly like a well oiled machine.  And, let’s face it, I mentioned the boredom thing before, so keeping me in tune can be daunting.  So, for now…

Three Turn Ons

1.  Kiss me.  Well.  I mean really well.

2.  Creativity.  I am fully entrenched in the Cultural Diversity event that I am in charge of each year.  I’m a month out.  This event flutters through my thoughts year round and this is the time frame in which I gather all my loose ends and ideas and bring them to fruition.  I change it up as best I can to keep us all interested while trying to hold on to it’s original principles.  This is only one aspect of my creativity but it’s my largest end product at the moment.  In general, when I’m creative, my juices flow and I’m one step closer to being right with the world.

3.  Strength.  If I feel strong, physically, mentally and emotionally life is good and I’m open to anything.  But let’s face it, that’s a problematic task to lay at anyone’s feet.  I’ve caught glimpses of it before – it’s nice.  I know the things I have to put into place to make this happen but I don’t always hit my mark on meeting my own needs.  Meditation is a big one.   Physical activity, ie yoga, karate, weights, etc. is a close second.  That ecstatic encounter reference, although I really got off on a tangent there, has a lot to do with it.  I believe in one’s chi being aligned and the chakras being in balance.  Yes, I do.  That comes together when everything else I’ve said falls into place.  Not too much to ask.

That all being said – the biggest thing – I shouldn’t take myself so seriously – I know!

Four…just four?

I’m slackin’!  I know. Can’t it be a post every other day or so…or so, or so?  No…I’m really trying though!

Four Turn Offs:

1.  Nose and ear hair.  Gross. No, really, really, really gross.

2.  Being cornered, literally.  I used to get backed up into a corner by my ex who was 6’4″, 240, while he would shout down at me into my face.  I’m now claustrophobic due to this.  Feeling like I’m in a tight place, the covers are too tight around me, etc. etc. etc. makes me really uncomfortable.

3.  Smells. Bad smells, too strong smells, smelly smells.  Smells.

4.  Feeling fat.  If I’m not feeling good about me, I ain’t feeling it for anyone else.

GIGO

Today, or more precisely, about two days ago I was supposed to talk about six people who made a difference in my life.  My thoughts on this swayed from one end of the spectrum to the next like a cockeyed pendulum trying to seduce me into saying all the things I shouldn’t, to the lovely Glinda from the Wizard of Oz trying to sort it all out for me by asking outright “Well, are you a good witch or a bad witch?”.

I think we all go through this?  Right?  No?  Just me…okay then…back to the story.

When I was taking the computer language BASIC, I used it to create  a speed rack quiz to test bartender knowledge – which no one ever used by the way – however, if you’re not in the know about bartending, you can read all about a bar set up on this nifty blog I just came across The Bartender’s Guide to the Universe – anyway my slimy college professor liked to quote the term GIGO all the time.  I don’t think I’ve heard anyone use that term recently, but maybe my fellow computer heads out there will remember it.  Garbage In, Garbage Out.  That’ s what I try to remind myself of every day.  If I think crappy thoughts, then…well, you can figure out the rest.

Today, Glinda says….

1.  My parents. For all the good things they have given me and all the bad.

2.  AJ, Golddustwoman, Kitty Kat, Tifney, SunnyPath, DreamSpirit, D and all the others I can’t remember right now because I didn’t sleep again and I have not consumed enough caffeine as of yet – thank you for your patience, your kindness, your knowledge, your friendship and understanding.  What a journey we began together many years ago.  I’ve never met a more powerful group of people in my life.

3.  My children.  Can’t imagine my life without them.  And the minute Lilly was born, my life changed in an instant.  She is my redemption, number two is my testy karma and number three is my salvation.  However, salvation is only seven…

4.  All the wonderful people I’ve met through number three’s pre-school.  Some of the strongest bonds I’ve made had to do with Children’s Enrichment Center even though no one has attended it in years now, our children are all still friends with each other, the parents are friends with each other and we’re all still friends with the teachers?

5.  The Sensei.  I met him when I was just seventeen…you know what I mean

…ha ha ha … couldn’t resist.  He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember and I just love him bunches…hahaha!

6.  My sister and her tribe. It’s just the two of us – growing up eight years apart – being raised in two completely different households, all by the same people, but differently due to circumstances beyond our control.   I don’t think two people could be more different than we are as a result.   I love her and my nieces & nephews more than they know.

Are you sure?

This is supposed to be about the thoughts that run through my head.   This is hard for me.  The thoughts in my head are so random sometimes.  My thoughts dart from thing to thing to thing to thing to thing.  Could it be ADD?  Actually I am almost certain it is.  I’m okay with that most days until I get completely overwhelmed.  How many of us have it do you think?  I sometimes wonder if it goes hand in hand with creativity. Hmmm.

7 Things That Cross My Mind A Lot

1.  I wonder if he is okay.  Is he okay.  Are you okay honey?  Are you sure?  Are you sure?  Are you SURE?  At least this no longer consumes me – it did for a long long long long long time.  (I am always fretting over my little guy who has wicked allergies when he is not with me, like right now.)  Are you sure you’re okay?

2. I need a really big vent in my kitchen. NOW. YESTERDAY.  NOW.

3.  What’s that smell.  No joke.  After quitting smoking I smell everything.

4.  If I go to sleep now, I’ll sleep at least five hours before I have to be up.  I can do that.  But what if I can’t sleep.  I can’t sleep.  Why can’t I sleep?

5.  I should really be doing…whatever rather than whatever it is I’m doing at that moment.  I should just do it and then, typically I don’t.

6.  What should I cook for dinner.  What do I want to cook for dinner.  I hate to cook dinner.  Actually, I really don’t hate to cook it, I hate to plan for it.  No, that’s not even totally true – I hate to clean up after it.  Well, that’s not entirely true either – I hate it being my complete and sole responsibility, all the time.  However, if I don’t do it, the alternative is eating some form of crap food that I feel disgusting after eating and guilty for giving my children.

6.  (THIS WOULD BE 6 number 2) ACK!  That stands for all the things that I really do think about all the time that I am unable to mention here.  ACK!

7.  Is that a new wrinkle?  A new grey hair?  When did that get there.  How can I get rid of that wrinkle….why am I so wrinkly?

One, Tahooo, Three

I have lens envy at the moment, although the husband tells me it wouldn’t make a difference.  It’s the light and the appeture and the exposure and the something?  He forgets, still have not read manual or taken photography course or anything.

Tried to skate and got waylaid by slushy ice – hiked instead and ran into a Great Horned Owl in a tree, whom I shall name Tootsie

No skate – gorgeous hike – nice compromise!

Snow covered burms…

Follow the leader.

Pretty Girl in the snow.

Neighborly.

And Tootsie checking us all out.

Hearts a Pumpin’

Eight ways to win my heart is the topic today!  This is not an easy one to tackle for me and I only have 12 minutes to do it because of the snow delay!  Gots to get to that Yoga X – yea baby – my heart will be pumpin’ after that.  By the way – all this exercise has really pumped up my internal temperature – totally appropriate for living in the Snow Globe – Mi, had to steal it.

This is all before I finish batch number two of a gabillion cookies for this awesome event on Saturday that is being sponsored by The Forever Jordan Foundation.

So, now that I have 7 minutes left because I’ve gone up and down on this little screen here revising and revamping what I’m saying and really don’t know how to answer this one because I’ve been married almost ten years now and “he had me at hello” – kidding – but hey, what can I say, I am a Jersey Girl at heart!

Eight Ways to Win My Heart – I am assuming this is romantically:

1.  Compliment me often – contradictory, I know because I have a hard time taking a compliment.

2.  Notice when I’ve done something creative, good, different, unusual, perplexing,  beautiful, or unique – and tell me what you really think.

3.  Hug me, touch me, kiss me often even when you don’t think I want you to because I could easily turn into a certain family member and not want anyone to touch me at all.

4.  Do NOT take me for granted.

5.  Give me my space when I need it, but do NOT let me isolate myself, because I can in a heart beat, and do it all too often.

6.  Have ESP – unreasonable, I know, but true.

7.  Speak to me.

8.  Make me laugh!

And I’ve completed day 3 …

9 More Things, but First a Word from Our Sponsor

How many of you are doing this now?  The meme thing?  I got through my first list yesterday. I never do those things “25 Things People Don’t Know About You.” I don’t want you to know for a reason, or you’d know; and if you do know already, then you’re supposed to know. Gabish? But this meme thing intrigued me for some reason, it was so different. It intrigued you all as well because lo and behold I had the second biggest read day since I started. I get it, you all like it when I get dark and deep. I hear ya – I like reading that kind of thing to. I’ll see what I can do about that while trying to keep us all comfortable at the same time.  Believe me, that burgeoning draft pile I have going on would make us all a little uncomfortable if I published it!  Trust me.

Anyway, an interesting thing happened after the husband read my post yesterday.  He thought about four of them were directed at him.  There was only one about him actually, which he nailed.  I had to know which ones he thought were his so I made him go through the list one by one.  He is officially the only person who knows, for certain, who the list is really for.  Not because I had to tell him, but because I wanted to tell him.  He would have been fine if I didn’t tell him, by the way.  PS – Honey, if you think that you have some of those qualities that I was referring to, or perhaps we’ve got some of those issues, you’re probably right…hmm…maybe we should discuss this further … and CHILLAX, you know which one is yours, the rest are not! xxoo

9 things about me

1.   I have a hard time expressing myself while speaking, fighting, discussing anything with anyone sometimes – this is why I like to write so much.  Besides the fact that I have a very animated imagination that begs to be heard sometimes.

2.  I love to fish.  No, I mean I really love to fish.  Maybe not as much as certain members of my “out”lawed family, but I do love it just the same.  Freshwater fishing in particular.  The powers that be are trying to get me to go deep sea fishing again.  Not gonna happen unless I can see the shoreline for the entire trip.

3.  I’m afraid of falling – not heights – just falling from a high place.

4.  My brain does not kick into full gear until late in the afternoon.  What can I say, I have vampiric circadian rythyms.

5.  Ancient Cultures fascinate me; as do aliens; physics; bible prophecies; aliens in bible prophecies; ruins of any kind; mystery spots…I could go on and on.   Google away, there is just a plethora of stuff out there on all of this.

6. I love learning new things and have a knack at teaching myself how to do what piques my interest at the moment.

7.  I get bored really easily.

8.  I have had migraines since I was 12 and have learned to stave them off by doing meditation – I have taught my son how to control them in this fashion as well.  I wish more people would listen to their bodies and not assume a pill will fix everything.

9.  On the flip side of the above, the only thing that keeps my other son alive on a daily basis, besides vigilance and care, are the two pills he takes every night.  That has been the hardest pill for me to swallow thus far.

And there you have it folks.

10 Things…

This must be the week for honesty and courage. Great. It started with Cupcakes and Catfood’s awesome post inspired by a blogger she reads! Wow. How enlightened. I’ll do that. Amazing. How cathartic!  So, I typed mine up below and then saved it to my ever increasing draft post pile, only to read you know who’s post next. Crap. Another one bites the dust of how can I not if she can?

10 things you wish you could say to someone right now.

1.  I get so crazy jealous of you sometimes that it is really unhealthy for me.

2.  I still can’t stand to hear your voice.  I have forgiven you, but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.

3.  I’ve missed you so much over the years – you were my constant stability and I didn’t treat you very well sometimes.  I’m so sorry.

4.  I wish I had met you, both of you.  I still feel like there is something missing because of this lack and I’ve always wondered if my life would have been different.

5.  I wish my relationship with you was not based on your relationships with others.  It’s affected who I am today and how I can relate to you in any way shape or form which is very little I’m sorry to say.  I know I will regret this more as the years go on.  I already do.

5.  I need you to say to me all the things you used to say.

6.  Why am I not good enough?

7.  I hope I am giving you everything you need.  I love you in such a way that I will never be able to put it into words – I hope you know that deep down in your bones.

8.  I feel like you value nothing I do and I can’t stand that you’ve given up on yourself already.

9.  I wish I didn’t care what you think, but I really do.

10.  You get me so angry that you put yourself first all the time, but really I know I’m just mad that I don’t know how to put myself first at all.

This sounds like I have the worst life, but I really don’t.  These are just the things I wish I could say right now.  Most of which I never will for all the reasons you can think of and some of the reasons you can’t.