(Because my real ones are WAY too scary. For me AND for you.)
Sarah at OK, Where Was I? tagged me the other day for a meme . . . this one's a confessional. I gave it a day or more to think it over. I eliminated all of the stuff that still wakes me up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, and this is what I was left with.
By the way, if you want to read a good list of confessions, go check out Sarah's. Then, after you finish laughing until you cry, come back here to Foolery and be kind.
1. If I really, really want a good snack I buy a bag of Peanut M&Ms. Not the regular bag, the one that holds 22 M&Ms and I could put all of them in my mouth at once if I really wanted to but I don't . . . I'm talking about the Tear 'n Share size. I don't know who was the marketing genius who came up with this little moniker, but I can promise you that if I'm feeling piggy enough to buy THAT size there's NO WAY I'm sharing. And yes, for those of you who are tapping your feet and saying hmmmmmmm to yourselves, I have even bumped it up to the half-pound bag, but I didn't eat them all. At once.
(Wrapper photo stolen from this guy)
2. I invented a person when I was in high school. I was inspired by a friend's older brother, who, as a senior, got in line with the freshmen on picture day and had his picture taken. I think he gave the name John Brown, if I remember correctly. It made the yearbook photo gallery, even the index. Well, if he could invent a John Brown, so could I, by golly.
One of my best friends, Mike, and I were on both the yearbook staff and the newspaper staff during our senior year. While we didn't think fast enough to get a photo into the yearbook, we did both happen to be the Senior Will editors for the last issue of the paper, so we decided that that was where our invented person would debut. With all of the sensitivity of a rotten 17-year-old I named the girl Margarita Maria Gomez, because she would be less traceable among the many names of Mexican students we didn't know too well. I know, I know. But this is a confessional, get it?
In case your school didn't have senior wills, they were printed in the last paper of the school year. It was a chance for seniors to "bequeath" things to underclassmen, such as their locker combinations, their stinky gym socks, the hot girl's phone number, and other vaguely 1950s teenage crap (this was 1983, by the way). As will editors Mike and I (we were selected for our common sense and upright morals, presumably) were supposed to toss out inappropriate language or adult-themed entries, and we did. We also let old Margarita through, however. She had "been" to all of the best parties, knew a lot of stuff about people, and got in a few snotty digs about some girls' leg warmers. We were in heaven. Do I regret it? Not on your life. Do I think I went too far? A couple of times.
3. As a child I pooped in a lake once. That's about all there is to say about that.
4. When I was in college and lived alone I went through a phase where I got up at 6:00 to do TV aerobics with Gilad.
(Photo stolen from this site)
I know there's nothing particularly confessional about that . . . wait for it. For reasons unknown to me (and how I ever got started with this is beyond me) I went from doing the excercises in a t-shirt and sweats to a t-shirt and undies to just undies, until I finally just skipped with all pretense and did my aerobics as naked as a jay bird. Before you start making weird French ho-ho-HO! sounds, there was nothing sexual about it at all. Gilad totally creeped me out, then and now. I think it was just a matter of sweat, which I hate. Still, there are about 1000 of you (that's about 990 more readers than I actually have) who will unbookmark this site because of this little admission. I don't blame you, ho-ho-HO! I think I'm a weirdo, too.
5. I once made a terribly inappropriate joke, involving clowns and incest or something creepy, in the presence of my high school freshman class's prissiest person. She looked at me with her mouth hanging open, and said, "LAURIE LaGRONE!" I'm absolutely certain that if she'd known my middle name she would have said it, too. I felt like a child being scolded by someone else's grandmother. Yeah, it was an ill-considered gut reaction, a stupid joke and a rotten thing to say, but right at that moment I knew that I didn't want to hang out with the prissy crowd. And they knew that they didn't want me to, either.
6. I played a version of Shirley Temple in the school Christmas play when I was about ten. The character was called Miss Dimples, and guess why I got the part? I had to carry a HUGE lollipop as a prop. The plastic was loose at the very top of the lolly, and when no one was looking I sucked at the exposed candy. By the time the play rolled around there was an impressive divot that accommodated my nose, if I felt the need for a nose holder. It was very embarrassing on stage in front of the whole school. Just a notch more embarrassing than portraying Miss Dimples.
7. In a college graphic design class we had to illustrate a conversation between two people using only one word per person, back and forth, for a limited number of frames. For instance, someone serving a friend coffee might have been shown as:
but with drawings. We then put our finished work up on the wall and critiqued the resulting body of work. Being a natural born storyteller (ham, blowhard, loudmouth -- you pick) I was terribly interested in the story my drawings told, whereas the greater assignment was more about illustrating a moment.
Because this was college, someone in the class had chosen to illustrate a sexual encounter, and the conversation went a lot like
etc. but, being the nerd who never missed an opportunity to make herself look stupid, I said I thought the story was a bit abrupt, and needed some sort of establishing words, maybe. I think the professor was halfway in agreement, and he asked me to elaborate. So I said, "I dunno, maybe some words before all that, to set the scene . . ."
"Yeah, but like what?" the teacher persisted. I really hadn't thought it that far through, and was only trying to be one of The Cool Kids in this class of graphic designers, who were already terminally hip.
"Oh, maybe, like HELLO --"
and that was as far as I got before the whole classroom erupted in laughter. I tried to explain myself, even though I knew I had really put my foot in it, and no one could stop laughing long enough to hear my weak protests. Duhhhh. I kept my mouth shut mostly from that point on, my position cemented as offbeat outsider with a screw loose and no concept of acceptable college behavior.
And that's about where I am now!