Techno-Dependent: Friday Confessional

There were so many thoughts I had last night. I was ready to blog. Well, semi-ready. I was really tired and wanted to just sleep, but I was going to blog because I challenged myself.

Then my computer anti-virus software started an update and I couldn't get to the internet. Bah.

My confession this morning is that I felt completely cut off from the world without access to my blog and internet. Seriously? Am I so reliant? Yep.

The internet is how I stay in touch with a lot of my friends who are in Yankeeland or flung across our 50 states. Facebook is a huge part of that. What can I say, I like to see what people are up to! Although sometimes I wish I didn't know. Their drama makes me really glad I'm so far away and the posts about dinner make me hungry. But the pictures of my family and godbabies are like balm to my heart.

My blog is an easy way for my lovely parents to see what I'm up to when we can't talk. I really should do more video and pictures I guess! At least one of my aunts reads as well and will send me emails about things I write. Thanks, Auntie.

I'm a little scared I've become too technology dependent. I don't even know phone numbers anymore because everyone is in the cell phone. I finally memorized DH's number after 7 or 8 months; this was born from the realization that he is hardly ever on Facebook and his email address is also in my phone. If I lost my phone I'd be in trouble, for sure.

There it is, my last Friday Confessional. Thanks Kristen for getting me writing at least every Friday morning.

Yeah, That's It: Friday Confessional

I'm too tired to actually write a confession. Yep. So instead I'll write a short list of reasons that if I were Catholic I may need to go to confession. Except that I'm not Catholic, so I may have a list that isn't really a reason to go. What? I'm confused now.

I take a break from praying on my way to work to verbal, although quietly, berate fellow drivers.
I haven't talked to my younger brother in a couple months.
I should call my grandparents more often.
I stole a Tootsie Roll from another audiologist's hearing aid order in a moment of weakness and sugar spiral.
I feel fat despite the vast amount of running I've been doing instead of proud that I can run so far.


Short list. I'm not telling everything.

I'm Not Always Nice: Friday Confessional

I know this may be shocking *cough, cough* but I'm not always nice. I often say things that I shouldn't say. I talk about people that I have no business talking about. I am weird enough to think that I know where someone is coming from and where they should go.

What? Did I just say that?

Ask anyone I work with. I don't always think before opening my mouth and blurting out something that was better left unsaid. Sometimes this is between me and one person...and sometimes it's between me and a group. And then I die a little on the inside because I can't believe I've said whatever came out of my mouth. And I wonder why I didn't leave those words inside my head where no one could hear them.

I get so worked up over being heard or feeling validated or just having the darn last word that I can't seem to help myself. It is not an attractive quality. I think I'm slowly changing this but it is challenging and feels like trying to nail jello to a tree most times. Think about that.

Keeping it real with Friday Confessional.

I Feel Like Joe Banks: Friday Confessional

Do any of you know who Joe Banks is? Because I feel like him this week. Do any of you ever get exhausted by work? I love my job. But it is mentally and physically exhausting being parents gateway to understanding hearing, hearing loss and therapy. Especially when sometimes you wonder if anything is getting through.

This week has been that type of week. Today will be back to back craziness. I'm sure I'll have some wonderful patients and some that make me work extra hard.

Starbucks doesn't make coffee strong enough for this.

Link in, blogging friends!

I'm Homesick: Friday Confessional

This time of year is my favorite time. I love the shift from hot sticky melting days to cool breezes, golden sun filtered through changing leaves and scarves being a serious every day must have.

This is also the time of year that I miss home the most. It's funny saying I miss home because here in the Deep South is home. But Yankeeland is also home.

And this time of year makes my heart hurt for a porch swing, a Yuengling and my dad puttering in the garage. I need to stand in a yard on the edge of a wood and smell how it's changing by the second, preparing for snow and sleep.

For brief seconds of time I feel suspended, like I can't draw enough breath to keep going without the promise of giggling on the couch with my mom, hugging my godbabies and hearing about their day and laying eyes on my grandparents. Without being wrapped in a blanket, inhaling woodsmoke and listening to a high school band while the football announcer strains to be heard above them.

I have a wonderful life here. I love my job. DH is the best man I have ever had the privilege of dating. I feel selfish for being homesick when my everyday is kind of freakin' extraordinary. But I'm still homesick, all the same.







On a side note, all you blogging friends, link up for Friday Confessional! Check out Kristen's blog, A Little Something For Me for the details.

Chicken Pot,Chicken Pot, Chicken Pot Pie: Friday Confessional

Did anyone else out there watch Just Shoot Me? The episode with Slow Donny who sang the chicken pot pie song? I would be rolling on the floor. To this day whenever anyone mentions chicken pot pie, which I love, it runs through my head.


Which brings me to pie. I am bound and determined to master pie dough. Pioneer Woman just had a guest post in her Cooking section about pie dough. I'm going to give this recipe a try. I love to make pies but have the worst time getting a dough that isn't wet or dry, that isn't full of holes or too thick, that isn't tough after it bakes.

I want to be Julia Child crossed with Ruth Reichl with a little Joy the Baker and Alton Brown thrown in. I want to be covered in a fine layer of sanding sugar and egg whites with flour under my fingernails. I want to start with the most basic of ingredients and create something unique.

Oh, and if anyone has a good chicken pot pie recipe that they'd like to share, I'm all about it!

Sometimes When I Run: Friday Confessional

Sometimes when I run I pretend I'm someone else. Or somewhere else. This is particularly helpful on long runs, or lately, on any run. When I think I can't go one more step I think "Would Frodo stop on the way to Mount Doom?" or "Would Sidney stop running if she needed to save Vaughn from certain death?". Sometimes I pretend that I'm running with someone I'd love to meet or a place I'd love to see.

But I never wish I was running with Phoebe. I just can't. Even that's too much for me.

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My Confession

I used to dream of being on stage. I was a theater major in undergrad and never knew whether I was any good or if I was an actress wannabe. But how I loved being on stage singing.

The smell of any theater space is a heady combination of hope, sawdust, people funk, heat and stillness. Like the space has been just waiting for someone to come along and realize their potential. And you can never disappoint the space like you can yourself or others.

I miss that optimism.


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