Confessions-- Mine, Not Usher's
Winning quotation from last night: "I'm kind of a literary genius." -- Wade H.
Have I told you about my friend Wade? You'd like him. He has really nice teeth. That's what initially made me want to be friends with him. But he's also really nice. Extremely, actually. He makes mix cds. He is a cowboy. He is nice to me even though I think horses are scary. We like to talk and have fun. He's kind of a gypsy, and I find that fascinating. Embarrassing Confession No. 1, which I can tell you because I told him last night: Sometimes when I listen to the Dwight Yoakum-heavy play list he created for me, I fantasize that I'm Sandra Bullock in "Hope Floats." Not when she's left by her husband on a two-bit, nationally syndicated talk show. Sandra when she gets to go out dancing with Harry Connick, Jr. I have a little friend crush on him.*
Confession 1 1/2: Yes, I've been listening to country music lately. Let's chalk it up to my eclecticism.
Confession No. 2: I face-stalked my ex-boyfriend yesterday. I didn't mean to, but I'd been talking to his sister who I'm still in intermittent contact with. The man is married. How long he's been married, I do not know. I'm just really happy to say that it didn't send me into a spiral of depression. You may think that this should be the normal reaction anyway, given our relationship has been over for nearly three years, but I finally feel nothing. It feels good, my friends. Best of luck to his real Rachel (the one he left me for). I wish them both well.
Confession No. 3: I normally go to Colorado for Labor Day Weekend-- it's kind of a family tradition. But I didn't realize it was THIS coming weekend and I made some other plans. The juicy nugget here is that I'm relieved that I don't have to go. Don't get me wrong, I love the cabin, and I'll now need to find another time to go and do my chores (I've been charged with the responsibility of washing all the doors and windows and thresholds-- not a bad job, but we have a lot of doors and windows, so it'll take some time). But I'm just glad it's not this weekend. I'm glad that I don't have to work Monday, and I can have the day to do whatever it is I need to get done, even if that means doing nothing. Also, because my family is taking the new puppy with them, I get a break from Sophie-sitting, and even though I'm enamored of her, I'll confess I won't really miss her. Much.
Confession No. 4: I'm a little annoyed with B & S (hahaha! together they are BS!!!!) for their antics last night. Whilst enjoying the company of three nice boys at the IHOP, S was good enough to announce that a) I'm on Weight Watchers (thanks, dude, really love that you called attention to one of my most obvious weaknesses) and b) that I'd "ruined" his dating life. And B, did you really have to tell the world that you'd kissed me? Boo. I'm at a point in my life that I don't want the entire world to know every time I kiss a new guy. Blaaaahhhhh! It's a good thing I love you, B&S, but y'all had better shape up. No more ruthless teasing in front of people we don't know all that well, ok? S, I still owe you nachos.
Confession No. 5: Spencer (not to be confused with the aforementioned S) is saving my crafting life again. It feels shameful, but I'm relieved to have Spencer and his Staples skillz cutting all my album cardstock down to size. Am I a crafting sell-out? Probably. But even Martha Stewart has assistants. I also like Spencer because he is such a confident little fellow. I regret that I fall into the minority of girls who AREN'T madly in love with him, but he is such a good guy that I may arbitrarily shift him into friend crush territory, 2nd half of definition.
Confession No. 6: Michael, I think we're going to be friends. I have a legit, regular crush on you, even though I know that it's superficial. I've always had a thing for boys with curly hair and Chuck Taylors.
Confession No. 7: My well-deserved nickname, Kate, is once again apparent and legitimate, because I really am a bit of a shrew these days. Of course, you must understand that my dear kindred Kate really wasn't evil, she just didn't put up with boys' crap. My crap tolerance is sliding.
Confession No. 8: I'm really considering holding Daniela's blouse hostage. She loaned it to me for Hot Singles, and I'm in love with it. I told her I'd like to wear it on a date. Problem: No dates on the horizon! I'd better just give in and give it back. After all, she did have it tailored for her body, not for mine. But I love that girl, and her wardrobe.
OK. You knew all this. Still, it feels good to let someone know. Amen.
* Definition Friend Crush: To admire to the point of distraction, and to possibly occasionally want to kiss your friend's face, but not in a scary, cougar way. To like your friend so much that you wish you could clone him so you and all your girlfriends could date him.