free confession friday

Well, here goes. I need to confess that I can be a terrible roommate. I haven't washed dishes for about 5 months. I have 4 bottles of shampoo in the shower. I fill my garbage can so then I pull out the full bag, tie it up, and put it in the hallway. I always intend to take the garbage outside, but a lot of times it just sits in the hall for a long time. Also, when I wash my delicates, I lay them out to dry all over the couch in the back room. Then I leave them there for like a week.

So yeah, I can be a totally annoying roommate. Sorry Roomies!

I have a question, followers. If I added a McLinky, would you put your own confessions up every Friday? Let me know!!!

free confession friday

So, technically it's not Friday anymore, but when I woke up this morning, it was Friday, so close enough!

Today my confession is... I love weave hair. Some of you are saying, "What the heck is that?"

Well... let me tell you. It's when you get your own hair braided in cornrows along your head (or at least that's the way I do it) then tracks, or wefts, of human or synthetic hair are sewn to the braids. It comes out looking like you have a head of hair completely different (or strikingly

similar) to your normal hair.

My hair is very thin and it doesn't grow very fast. I got my first weave just to make my hair fuller. Did I mention that you can also glue tracks to your hair? You don't have to braid it if you're going to glue them (but you also risk more damage to your real hair when you remove the tracks). I've had four weaves total since then, and I pretty much love them! I just took out my last weave, which ended an almost 2 month long weave affair, last week. Oh, how I miss my long, long locks!

BRAIDS ON MY FIRST SEWN-IN WEAVE

THE FINISHED PRODUCT

But on the plus side, I can actually put my hair in a high pony tail now, and I don't have to worry if my real hair is covering my seams at the top!

So there's my confession. Some people think I'm crazy for getting weave hair sewn on, but I say it's akin to dying or perming your hair. Only thing is, it's less permanent! Other people think I'm too white, but as my friends say, "She can get weave if she wants. It's just like us, we want our hair to look different and cute..." The first one wasn't so great, but we're definately figuring things out. Pretty soon people will not even know what is my real hair and what is not! So there's my shout-out to My Stylist! You the best! :D

free confession friday

So I'm back. Pretty much. I hope.

I've been away for a while, just because I've been sick/tired/distracted. But anyway, it's Friday. And I need to make a confession.

There are al ot of things I could confess (don't worry, I will later) but today, right now, I am quite distracted. That's because my dad is in the hospital. See, he had a heart attack 3 years ago. It was my senior year in college, I was working some 27 hours a week, failing classes, getting

behind... It was awful. I almost fell apart. Ok, maybe I did. It was one of the hardest times of our lives, I think.

Then tonight it happened again. My dad is only 53. He's too young to have a second heart attack. I'm too young to worry if my father will be there in 5 years or 1 year or next week. I can't go on without my daddy. I don't want to.

I got the call while I was driving home from work. It was the same as last time. Dad's having chest pain. They are running tests. Something about enzymes in his blood. Something's not right. I couldn't hear anymore. I don't really remember what Mom said. Everything kinda blurred after "Dad's in the hospital..."

By the time I finally got home, I was frantic, my hands and chest was going numb, and I was fighting to suck in the air I needed to breathe. I really think I had a panic attack. It took me a couple of hours to calm down. My shoulders are still so tense. But what can I do? I'll probably go up there tomorrow morning. Well, depending on the outcome of the tests. Maybe it's nothing and he'll be out of the hospital by tonight.

Anyway, I have calmed down quite a bit, mostly because of my roomies praying with me, praying myself, and remembering that God is in control. Even if things don't turn out how I think they should. God knows. Not to mention, I know that even if the worst does happen, I love my dad, he loves me, and this would never be the end. I'll always see my daddy again.

But here's the confession: I feel bad. Not for my dad (in this aspect) but for myself. That's because Mom and I had a girls' weekend planned for tomorrow and Sunday. Now it's not going to happen. So I feel guilty about feeling sorry for myself, but I really was looking forward to the weekend with Mom.

Oh well. There'll be other weekends to spend with Mom. Maybe this will be a Dad weekend.

free confession friday

So today I'm not making my own confession. I'm making it for someone else. But her story was so good I had to tell it. Names have been changed to protect the guilty...

So my friend, Kaylie, got really pissed off by her roommate. She, in her pissed off state, was just going about her normal business, when she saw said roomie's hair straightener in the bathroom. This gave her a devious idea. (Who knows where she came up with these things.) She grabbed some TP and dipped it in the toilet. Then she took the yucky toilet TP and nicely brushed the

hair straightener with it.

I saw Kaylie's roomie today. Her hair was straight, and I couldn't stop laughing.

Do you have a confession to make? Leave it in the comments!

free confession friday

I have a confession to make. It's a free confession. You can't judge me for it. I swear, it's in the rules somewhere. No, I haven't murdered anybody or cheated with somebody's husband. It's not that kind of a confession. It's more just a confession about my quirks. Probably things you already know anyway, if you know me. If you don't, then I'm just filling you in. I'll paint you a picture... of me!

So here it is... drumroll please! I hate weddings. That's right. I hate weddings!!!

There, I said it.

And now comes the inevitable question: "Why?"

And the inevitable answer: "Do you want a list?."

Ok, so that's not really an answer. It's really another question. Actually, it has a lot to do with making a huge (very, very expensive) fuss over one stinkin' day of a couples' life and not focusing on the whole committment. Granted, some weddings are good for that, but mostly they are a girl living her fairy tale. I don't have a fairy tale. Well, not regarding the wedding, at least.

My fairy tale has more to do with being loved and having children. And honestly, I'm barely holding on to that dream anymore either. It seems like all my dreams are just that: dreams. I mean, every plan that I envisioned for my life has pretty much not turned out to be true. I know, God's timing, not your's etc. but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't at least slightly disappointed.

Oh well. I'm getting used to being alone. I hope I don't have to make a life out of it, but if I do, then I guess, so be it!

I'll be happy as long as I can always find a family somwhere who will let me watch movies with them and occasionaly invite me over for food. Oh, it helps if they have kids I can kiss, too. I just love those fat cachetes!

Anyway, back to the wedding thing. I think another reason that I hate them is my huge aversion to spending large sums of money on something that doesn't last. I would much rather spend money on an amazing honeymoon (I know, not lasting, but much more fun that ceremonially putting men--and the occasional woman like me--through an agonizing hour of blissfully wedded torture.) than a day-long ceremony. I do, however, want to have a big party (preferably a cook-out. I LOVE grilled meat!) and I'll invite everybody.

Also, weddings are boring. Especially if they include a Baptist pastor or a full mass. (Sorry Baptists and Catholics. I am even Baptist, and I know how you like to get preachin' at any and every event possible. Mostly it's ok--weddings and graduations are the exception.)

Oh, and btw I'd like a destination wedding on some beach in Mexico, so start saving your pennies now if you want to come! You're totally invited. And since I'm not really headed toward the altar, let's just set a date for a cruise. How about January of 2012? Sounds good to me!

So yeah, there's my confession. I'm not your average girl. Again, if you know me personally, you already know that. If you're just tuning in to my blog, then feel free to scratch your head in bewilderment. That is, as long as you're willing to return for more!

confessions, baby aisle, broken hearts and undapants

So I have a confession to make... I am terrified of the baby care aisle at department stores. I should seek counseling, I know, but that's expensive. This is my counseling (and it's far cheaper than the real deal).

Anyway, there are deep reasons causing my baby aisle terror. That whole theme is a subject for another post (or maybe never :). Anyway, I guess it's enough to say that I'm twenty-stinkin'-five with no baby, no husband, no boyfriend and no prospects. (Hence all the time blogging.) And it probably sounds dumb, but I really want a baby. There's something in my biology that calls out to have one. May just have something to do with my age... Or it could have something to do with my ex-whatever-he-was getting his other ex prego less than 2 weeks after we broke up. (I know, I know... dodged a bullet!) I guess there's something in me that wanted that baby. She's seven months old now and I just saw pictures of her today and she's adorable and... there's really nothing more to say.

So yeah, that's all I want to say about that situation... ever. Ok, well, maybe not ever, but for now...

But onto the real topic of this post: me--having to go in the baby aisle without having a panic attack. You see, my brother and sister-in-law are going to have a baby in September. I'm going to be an aunty for the first time and I'm stinkin' excited!!! But that still doesn't make visits to the baby aisle any easier...

I went in... I perused. I breathed into a paper bag. I picked up cute little things. I got outa' there!

I survived.

I can shop in the baby aisle without having an anxiety attack.

That deserved to be rewarded, so I went over to the chica's cuteness aisle (aka undergarments and sleepwear) and looked at the bras, the undapants (saying undapants is 40% funnier than saying underwear), the jammies... everything. It's one of my coping mechanisms--buying undapants. After a long, stressful day at work or a difficult shop in the baby aisle nothing makes me feel better than buying myself some cutie-patutie undies! (Well, buying some darling shoes would, but that's out of my budget.)

I grabbed an adorable pack of Hanes hipster boycut undies in perfect brown and pink. I had to have them! They were $8.49. That is, btw, way out of my price range, especially for undies! I carried them around with me as I tried to convince myself that I could survive baby shopping without wasting almost ten bucks on two tiny garments that nobody will ever see. I must have walked around the cuteness aisle for about 20 minutes deciding that I didn't really need them. Then something amazing happened. I spotted them. The same cut, not perfect brown and pink, but still, the perfect undie. It was less than $2. I peeled the cutie-patutie package out of my hand, reluctantly placed it on the nearest rack, and ran. I managed to spend less than five dollars on self-medicating and it doesn't even come with a bad aftertaste or a headache tomorrow.

SO... for all of you who don't know me personally, laugh at my ridiculousness. For those of you who do know me, pretend you never read this! It was a free confession! Pretend you are a priest and you have taken an oath to not judge me for my crazy weirdness.