Friday Confessions.

The thing about Friday is that it’s not really the end of the week. There’s so much more in on a weekend that makes the end of it a fitting end of the week. The real end-of-week is Sunday night, and I’d probably have more to confess if I did this on Sunday. But I don’t. So.


Shirked vegetables. Ate pasta with butter and parmesan and called it a meal.


Let a kid get away with saying ‘shit’. It was an accident of time and place. I know he would not have, if he’d been thinking. I gave him a stern look, and got a scared/embarrassed one in return. We’re good.


Offended a guy on the bus by even having a cell phone. Sorry, dude. It rang and he let out a big WTF huff. So sorry for having a job wherein I need to be able to get calls where I am. Next time I’ll totally stand on the shore and watch for smoke signals.


Anyone else want to check in?

12 Comments to “Friday Confessions.”

  1. By stephanie, October 24, 2008 @ 10:57 am

    I LOVE pasta with butter and parmesan. Mmmm. I’ve been eating brown food all week because I have been too sick to go to the store. My husband is no good at going to the store. He comes home with cheese crackers and soda and cookies.

    I was at Buffalo Exchange last night and the girl in front of me had 3 big bags of clothes. Then she leaves and comes back with two more big bags. I said, LOUD, Oh my God. She totally looked at me.

  2. By gen, October 24, 2008 @ 11:01 am

    I confess that I reached my breaking point with Sabine this week. I have made an appoitment to take her to the Vet on Monday and she will be staying there, One part of me is broken hearted, the other – is not sad at all to see her go. I have decided to let her eat as much as she wants and to give her lots of catnip this weekend. Part of me hopes that she will all of a sudden start using the litterbox again (well maybe a better way to say it is that she will begin to only use the litterbox again) and then I can cancel the appointment. Unfortunately the problem has been getting worse not better.

    I also confess to not being a very patient or good teacher this week. I got frustrated with the kids and frustrated with me and it just meant that nothing went well. Maybe the three days between now and Monday will ease the frustration and give me a new perspective. At least the kids are excited about writing complaint letters and/or fairy tale defendent stories.

    Lastly, I confess to waking up in the middle of the night and agonising over my decision to go to Denver. Now that it is almost here I am dreading the idea of going away for 4 days. I have several times almost persuaded myself that I am going to permanently damage Imogen, Ryan will never speak to me again and I won’t be allowed back into the country. Silly, I know. Who knew that I could become one of those mothers who puts their own issues onto their children? Imogen and Ryan will be fine – it’ll be my blubbering into my pillow at night.

  3. By Arwen, October 24, 2008 @ 3:17 pm

    “Does not play nicely with people.”

    – Arwen’s new resume.

  4. By Beth, October 24, 2008 @ 6:26 pm

    Okay, out with shame, in with pride. I confess to being so proud of our team.
    I teach in a school of 10 staff, French Immersion. Last year we came back from the specialist conference fed up with the workshops, (all companies who had products to sell) over-crowded conditions and bad organization. Someone said off-handedly, “We could do a better job than that!” and then we did. We ran a conference today in our little school, 10 workshops divided into 2 sessions, morning coffee and snacks, coffee break coffee and snacks, catered lunch, and facilitated sharing sessions in the afternoon. We all pitched in. We presented workshops, we set up the gym as an amazing restaurant with flowers and paintings on the walls. We had bags with name tags, individual schedules showing which workshops a participant was registered in and where they were complete with a map of the school. We had bumph from French publishers and a very nice pen from the school board. Starbucks gave us coffee and tasty treats were baked by staff. And we did it all for $35 per person compared to the $250. that the other conference costs.
    Then, when participants left at 2, we worked together and had everything clean and organized in an hour with everyone pitching in and working without direction until we saw the work was done.
    I am so impressed with us. How lucky am I to belong to such a team!

  5. By Liz, October 24, 2008 @ 8:16 pm

    Brown food? It has suggestions of fiber, of whole-wheatness, but I am guessing that your husband does not go down that route.

    Gen, with Denver coming up and the situation with Sabine, I know you’re stressed to the max. It’s hard to be a font of all knowledge when you want to hide. I’m a phone call away if you need me.

    “Arwen: Sasses her boss” I love you for that, but man was it awkward.

    Way to go, Beth! That is awesome news and you must all be very, very proud of yourselves!

  6. By elswhere, October 24, 2008 @ 9:33 pm

    I think I might’ve bombed the “team” question on my interview yesterday. I’ve gotten that question (“Tell about a time you’ve worked as part of a team, and what role you played”), or some variant on it, the last few interviews I’ve had, and I never know what to say. (I listen to people? I try to do what I commmit to doing? But isn’t that just what everyone does on a team? And if they don’t, who’s going to say in an interview, “I ignore others’ perspectives and blow off my responsibilities”?)

    OTOH, I ROCKED the booktalk demo portion of the interview. That library director will be putting “Little Brother” on reserve this week, you mark my words. Er. If I do say so myself.

  7. By rachel, October 25, 2008 @ 6:18 am

    els- you could talk about your role making our fabulous video. That was teamlike. You made a list of the things that needed doing, you ticked things off the list, you did much of the filming, you were the voice of husband Ken, you set the kids up with Electric Company, you did ALL the damn editing, you made us chicken…

    Sounds to me like you’re one of those people who sees the big picture, sees what other people are doing and what is left to do, and fills in all the gaps (or makes sure other people are filling them in). It’s a bit like being an editor, if you think about it – making sure point A connects all the way through to Z.

    You’re welcome. My Bullshit Consultant bill is in the mail.

  8. By elswhere, October 25, 2008 @ 9:45 am

    Wow! Rachel, that is perfect, thank you! I will tuck “like an editor” away for my next interview. I might even talk about the video—it’ll certainly be more lively than the examples I’ve been using, and everyone needs a little entertainment when they’re sitting in a board room for hours and hours.

  9. By Liz, October 25, 2008 @ 10:20 pm

    I second what Rachel says, Els. You’re a natural multitasker and compartmentalizer, so it kind of does make you an editor. Maybe an overseer? No. You’re glue. You make the project stick together.

  10. By cheesefairy, October 26, 2008 @ 7:46 am

    Liz – I was reading somewhere recently that a toddler will eat all the types of food it needs to balance its diet over the course of a week. So don’t fret about one or two days of only peanut butter toast. In other words, butter & parmesan pasta is perfect dinner. You’re an adult. Part of that joy is eating whatever you want!

    Brown food, too, which to me sounds like chocolate.

    I have only to confess that my children are virally infected once again and once again I am so annoyed with them for it. I want to know what age you have to be to actually stay in bed and be quiet when you’re sick. I am at that age, have been for some time. My children are not. As my captcha says, Bedroom Not.

  11. By cheesefairy, October 26, 2008 @ 7:49 am

    PS: am so annoyed with dude on the bus on your behalf. I would much rather listen to half a reasonable conversation on a cell than two live, loud, drunk (or not) idiots at the back of the bus discussing who we should bomb next.

  12. By Liz, October 26, 2008 @ 7:21 pm

    I don’t remember what age I was when I started lying still when I was ill. I know I probably drove my mother insane, though.

    Also, my whole side of the conversation was, “Hello? Yes. What can I do for you? Oh, okay. I know it. I’m on my way to a car in Strathcona. I’ll swing by and see if I can open it. Yeah. Okay. I’ll let you know if I can do it. Thanks!”

    Perhaps Dude on the Bus was angry at my Peace Frog ringtone? Jerk.

Bad Behavior has blocked 2 access attempts in the last 7 days.