Okay, I did some confessing in the past few weeks (i.e. poor parenting skills, poor drinking skills, poor belly control), it must be the time of year…feel the need to get things off my chest. But these are different. At least in my own head…and I spend an awful lot of time in my head lately, where a lot of things sound different, or good, or just plain fan-freakin’-tastic, ala JD on Scrubs. But I digress (my husband did say I should’ve named my site “Sidetracked” instead of “Wine Please”…but whatever, it’s totally my site and I love wine and, oh. Heh). Here is my list of confessions, or maybe they’re really just little facts about me. hmmm… okay, really, here’s the list:
- I drink, nay, I CRAVE cheap cheap wine, like Livingston Cellars Rhine Wine in the double-sized bottle…for $7.99. I also can appreciate and enjoy more expensive and complex wines, but when the crap hits the fan, I need something I can chug down without hearing my wallet scream. BTW, it is way more fun to not only drink it, but make my wine-snob-I’m-way-into-Reserves-only-husband buy it for me…hee hee! I also usually drink it in a standard rocks glass (or medium juice glass for all you teetotalers). Yeah, that’s how I roll.
- If we could financially handle it, I think I would really enjoy working in the infant room at my sons’ daycare. I LOVE babies, and since Justin is very against having any more of our own, this might pacify my baby obsession a little. And it has the added benefit of reduced tuition for my kids, I send the babies home with their parents at the end of the day (they aren’t interfering with my sleeping), and no nursing!
- I despise unions. Sorry to any of you card-carrying members of a union…I just cannot stand them. When I was in high school, I worked at Osco in Indiana and was essentially required to join the union, regardless of the fact that the store automatically gave me a discount (my only benefit as a part-time worker). It pissed me off to no end that I had $4-something a week taken out of my paycheck…since I made slightly over minimum wage at that time, that was about 1 hour’s pay…to the union, who didn’t do a dang thing for me…talk about taxation with out representation! In college, I worked at a non-union Osco and was so friggin’ happy to have my money back. Then, after working several years in a union environment (though not in a unionized position) at a previous job, I have had more than had my fill of those fat cats “working” for the people. They’re damn socialists is what they are, and they turn completely decent employees into lying, scheming, lazy morons, and create a hostile environment of “us versus them” regardless of how much management works to keep the peace. And they rob companies dry with their ridulous contracts…hello, if the company wasn’t goaded into paying for 100% health/dental/vision benefits for union employees and up to FOUR of their dependents, the company might not have to do these friggin’ RIFs all the time.
- I wish I could be more creative. I mean, I’ll have spits and spurts, but never anything consistent. I think if I had a little more time, I could be creative (i.e. I have knitted some nice blankets and even a sweater for other people’s babies…but am only about 1/8 of the way through Cooper’s blanket…and haven’t even started on one for Gavin). So I guess wishing to be more creative isn’t really a confession…I guess the confession is that I am not consistently creative.
- I work in telecom, specifically supporting and managing part of the fiber optic TV product provided by a major telecom company. Prior to that, I did reporting, researching, and analysis (among a million other things) for a call center. The part that is usually interesting to most folks is that I have a degree in Religious Studies and a minor in Humanities. The most technical class I ever took in college was my Religious Studies Research Theories class, and that’s only because it required me to use a computer for gathering stats and creating tables.
- Really, while we’re confessing here, I went through several declared major while in college. Most of my friends never changed theirs, or only modified it slightly (i.e. went from Pre-K Ed to Secondary Ed). But I started off as a Music Education major (think band director), realized I was too lazy to practice as much as required and switched to General Studies (because nothing else seemed appropriate). Thought that was a lame major and tried Secondary Education (think Middle and High school), but after a few classes, didn’t feel that was my true calling and considered Pre-Pharmacy (think head pharmacist in a drug store, or a research pharmacist). I actually held onto this major pretty long…until I couldn’t figure out how to pass Anatomy (yeah, body parts kicked my butt…Ball State has a surprisingly tough nursing/pre-pharm/pre-med program). Then I realized I always enjoyed my humanities classes and really was interested in world religions…so there comes my major and minor. I wanted to be a professor and teach at a college or university, but I haven’t gotten my Masters yet. So maybe someday I’ll actually be able to put my education to good use. In the meantime, it works out well for me that I alone laugh hysterically at religious jokes, because I really get them, and can answer the occassional question about some of the major faiths in the world.
- I have an obsession with Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies. When I was pregnant, I would eat an ENTIRE sleeve of cookies (with milk, you know, to make it healthy). In like 5 minutes. Really.
- I am turning into my mother. Not that it’s necessarily a bad thing (I love you, Mom!), but when you spend so much of your life trying to find yourself and be your own person, it’s a little disturbing when you find yourself doing and saying the same things that your mother does. Like when Gavin is driving me bonkers with crying and whining and I hear myself say, “STOP the whining! I can’t stand the whining! I can’t understand you when you whine!” or “STOP the crying or I’ll give you something to cry about!” I guess it’s a good thing, then, that Justin gets along with and likes my mom, huh?
- I like snow. I like it a LOT. I like watching it fall, I like playing in it, I even don’t mind shoveling it. I don’t mind it when I’m driving, I just mind when I’m stuck driving in it with the knuckleheads in this area that were somehow issued drivers licenses.
- I was born and raised in the southern suburbs of Chicago…though that’s not really a confession. What might be a confession is my lame attempts at trying to hide my nasally Chicago accent, particularly in words that contain the “short O”, “aww” or “ahh” sounds, like coffee, sconce, or ma. I do alright unless I’m tired or drinking…and then Justin starts giggling at me when I talk because I’m all “sangwich” and “braaaaahhhhtwurst” and “da Bears”. Think the Bears fans from the SNL skits.
So what little confessions to all of you have???
Oh, and I’m totally resting on my husband’s laurels again…go see it for yourself (he’s a much more entertaining writer than me) or just look below for the REAL nitty gritty:
5 Comments
My idea of a wine glasses are my Pooh, Piglet, and Tigger juice glasses (Eeyore broke)!
I feel like a priest, what with all the confessing going on. 😉 My most burning comment would have to be about Santa’s shirt. Cute though it is, it’s not standard issue. Did he show up in his pajamas this year?
Goodness that some confessions! Ha! I’m with you on the cheap wine. I’m embarrassed when someone comes over and that’s all we have in the house.
Karen, actually, in Virginia, we seem to have very lazy Santas. It might be to keep them from getting overheated or something (he is wearing his standard-issue pants and boots). Or they just might be part of a union. If I wanted a Santa with a coat on, I’d have to drive over an hour. At least his hair and beard are real. And he was very nice.
I, too, ended up in a highly technical career field (I work with engineers and computer geeks all day long), despite the fact that my degree is in Spanish Translation (something which I pray I never actually have to use–thinking makes my brain hurt).
Mmm . . . could you pass me some Thin Mints?