Confessions of a Nutcase
(stuff I’d only tell my sister)
~I don’t know how it all began, but I dip my cheese puffs inside diet coke as if it were sour cream.
~Before I go to sleep, I pray to spend the night walking and talking and laughing with my sister, Kay.
~I hate to fly, so I keep a close eye on the flight attendants’’ facial expressions.
~Even though I work for a school district, I’m petrified of math.
~I used to make my husband wear his old navy blue Carnival Cruise Line uniform around the house.
~I never, ever pass up a stray cat without running my fingers thru its fur.
~I touch & rub people as I’m talking with them and not just because I’m Italian.
~ I have a blog about empowerment & rising up, yet I continually lie about my age.
~I cannot stomach anything inside cages, bars, chains, isolated, or bound in any way whatsoever. It causes me to become physically, emotionally, and mentally sick.
~One time I had a sex dream about George W. Bush.
~Sometimes I tell people I’m out of town so I can be totally alone to catch up on The Americans, Game of Thrones, & reruns of Sex & the City.
~I was madly in love with my long haired, tattooed, burnout babysitter, Keith Anderson.
~When I babysat Becky Rice on 58th Street, I’d put her to bed early so I could bake chocolate cakes in her Easy Bake Oven. ( I was fired from that babysitting job )
~ When I hear violin music, I taste sugar.
~As I’m walking into school in the morning, I count the steps from the cement sidewalk to the door.
~I read the first and last pages of a novel before I buy it.
~I loathe the book by Shel Silverstein, which apparently everybody else loves, called The Giving Tree.
~When my sister was murdered, I prayed to die for an entire year.
~From an extremely young age, I considered myself beautiful— until somebody told me otherwise.
~I’ve heard the voice of God. ( why do you think I’m still here? )
~When people have shushed me, I’ve not spoken to them again.
~Since the film, Monster, I’ve had a thang for Billy Bob Thornton.
~At the last gathering, I lied about the pie. In truth, I didn’t bake it…I bought it from Betty’s Pies.
~In truth, I’ve not experienced hate for my sister’s murderer, but I do feel immense hate for the individual I filed harassment papers against. ( I’m a work in progress. Still.)
~I have hundreds, perhaps thousands of shades of lipstick. And still haven’t found the right one.
~My sister and I were called the “Ice-Queens” in high school.
~Poetry, for me, is another form of god.
—darling, reader, confess something here and now! xxx kiss from Duluth.