I'm in love. =(
I'm in love. =(
Yeah. I prepared the noose as soon as I realized it. Ugh.
This is kind of a bizarre confession, so I hope you think it's an interesting one. Here it goes:
Since February 27th, 2002 there have been a total of 73 days where I have not listened to Charlie Chaplin's final speech in The Great Dictator. The majority of which have come on days where I was traveling or away from a source that would allow it in privacy. The only other person who knew before this was my mother's father and he died in the Fall of 2007. There were three days in 2006 where I was incapacitated due to my own poor choices and my grandfather kept track for me. I vowed afterward to never have a day where I couldn't remember whether or not I had listened. Having never taken theater in high school, I once pissed off a lot of people by stealing the lead in a play my senior year using it as my audition monologue. It remains the only audio clip that has lasted with me since 2001 in its original file. It's officially been a decade of this habit, and half of it gone alone. I feel like I can just say that it's a thing I do now nearly every day.
Maybe some day I'll confess as to why I do it. Admittedly the confessed habit above I think is far stranger than the motive, so there's nothing too weird about it overall.
That is an amazingly strange confession and I do actually want to know more. Ha.
My confession is I don't remember making the earlier drunken confession. I mean, I remember in real life what transpired regarding it but I don't remember posting it here.
Yeah, I don't think there's anything that weird about listening every day, it's the keeping track of the days you didn't that's odd. But being committed to something is admirable.
*It was during what would have been my senior year of high school (graduated early). I dealt with a lot of problems at home and my surroundings in a very immature manner back then because I was practically salaried at an ad agency while still living at home. The logical conclusion for me was to waste it on drugs as it would be spent on little else.
Last edited by weeklymix; 02-27-2012 at 01:06 PM.
I was wondering what happened to my bathrobe.
the busy bee has no time for sorrow.
There is, but the superstitious side in me can't reveal any of that today. Perhaps soon, but not today.
I'm sure this makes me sound completely insane, but it mostly revolves around my work ethic and how much I work. I'm just superstitious and had a rough childhood. Circumstance simply manifested itself into a funny habit that's stuck with me.
Last edited by weeklymix; 02-27-2012 at 01:24 PM.
Wow...it got heavy. I'm really sorry. Your confession sounds like some of my OCD rituals.
Luckily it's my only ritual but it's not something I technically obsess over. I can keep track of numbers pretty well on my own. Knowing how many days I haven't done something that's been done for the better part of a decade doesn't seem so bad.
in line with weekly's confession...
i also graduated early. i was 17 and was on effexor. my girlfriend invited me over to her friend's house. they were still in high school together where i used to go. a few other people came over. this little outing was advertised as a party because the girl's aunt would not be home.
we spent a long time trying to find someone outside a supermarket to get us tequila. someone finally did, thank god. though, then they followed us and tried to get us to pull over. my friend's boyfriend had some sort of trouble with the police, so we were planning for him to bolt the second we stopped. turned out the guy just left something in our bag.
anyway, we get to the house and start to party. i decide it's a fabulous night for a gel tab of acid. after an hour though, i wasn't feeling anything and was annoyed. then i start drinking tequila, a lot. we all sat around making raver candy jewelry, or kAnDi or however the fuck people spell it. the last thing i remember was looking at my best-friend who was sitting on the floor and her saying "you're going to regret this in the morning".
the next thing i remember is being in a bathtub, naked and wet. the girl whose house it was walked by screaming at me.
i don't remember anything else except for waking up naked in an el camino. my best-friend was driving, but it wasn't her car. i was covered in her giant adidas jacket. "why am i naked?"
"you got drunk."
"and why are you driving steve's car?"
"you got really drunk".
apparently while drunk, i kept hitting on this tiny little guy. he was kinda cute i guess. i am told that i kept telling him "ya know, i'm not a virgin, so if you want to take advantage of me, its ok". he wasn't having any of it.
the girl's aunt also came home to find me puking i guess. the guys had to carry me to the bathtub, which i apparently kicked and broke the faucet. i felt so awful. the girl didn't even respond when i offered to pay for it =/
after i regained consciousness, my best-friend then had to sneak into her house to get me clothes (her mom is psycho). and then we went to denny's. i was so hungover. i felt horrible for causing such a scene. i saw that little guy at the mall soon after and he wouldn't even look at me lol. that was kinda funny.
And nice confession Ivy.
I love both of you very much at this point in time.
2 oz blended whiskey
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 tsp powdered sugar
1/2 slice lemon
Shake blended whiskey, juice of lemon, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a whiskey sour glass. Decorate with the half-slice of lemon, top with the cherry, and serve.
I couldn't ask for better confessions.
I don't really want to get into WHY, but I just google image-searched "cumming on grandma," and the result was what i SHOULD have been expecting.
On March 10th, via webcam, I will be "attending" a birthday party that my ex-boyfriend is throwing.
For his cat.
I love Portlandia. I love Carrie and I love Fred and I love all their skits no matter how I'll-conceived. I laugh.