One thing I liked in my Catholic upbringing was the idea of absolution through the sacrament of penance - you confess your sins and God (or his representative) will forgive you.
My sin was just brought home to me when I posted in ATMB a couple of minutes ago.
I meant to say “Who has precedence” and I typed in “Who has presidence”. I’ve been doing that more often lately, using the wrong word, but one that is very close in spelling and pronunciation. I have to admit, to my shame, that I am … a Malapropist! (After your post, imagine the voice of God (or the Great Architect or your super-ego or Cecil Adams or whatever higher power you want to imagine) saying “Ego absolvo te a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti Amen.”)
I’m sorry for taking two glasses from an alumni event at my college. A friend thought it would be a good way to symbolize the exorbitant tuition prices and our upcoming donations, and, well, it seemed a good idea at the time. Still, I feel bad for taking them. I can return them though, so I think I’ll do that. Oh the horrible guilt! (mostly not serious).
I was supposed to get up early today and run some errands. Instead I slept until 10 and now I only have time to go to the post office before my get together this afternoon.
Ummm…heinous crimes, huh? Well, I lied to a major food manufacturer about their product being stale so they would send me a coupon for a free replacement. Does that count?
I have a pile of comics that I told a friend I would scan for her. That was over a year ago.
I’ve been saying, for over a year, that I was going to work on a certain something. It hasn’t happened.
I’ve been saying, since it went down, that I would get my Silver’s Kids comics back up. It hasn’t really happened yet.
At work there’s two projects that I haven’t worked on because I think they’re stupid.
I did make an actual post on my LJ today! That helps, right? Yeah, sure it was just copying and pasting in some old poetry of mine, but it’s actual content, right?
I’m going to Wal-Mart this afternoon. I am morally opposed to shopping at Wal-Mart. But… but… you know. The second-to-last time I was there, women’s antiperspirants were $2 each. The last time I was there, they had been marked down to $1 each. I have enough antiperspirant to last me a few years now.
I hate Wal-Mart, but stuff like that… jeez.
I will absolve myself by shopping locally for groceries, though, and I fully intend to be a regular at the farmers’ markets in town this summer.
I’m also smoking a cigarette in the house at the moment as it’s just me at home, and all the windows are open due to the sudden appearance of summer-like weather.
And I had four drinks last night just because it’s a long weekend. Then I snored a lot and pretended I didn’t hear my husband telling me to turn over.
I am guilty of the sin of envy on a regular basis at the office, for many of the women I work with are very slim, young and attractive, and I envy their physical states. But I do not make a serious effort to eat better and exercise more. That’s the sin of sloth, or lack of willpower.
I sometimes eat lunch at McDonald’s and pretend I don’t.
Ah, yes. General Absolution.
The only time that you would ever see a packed house, and I mean packed house, at my home church was for this guilt-sloughing event.
I don’t remember when, but GA was discontinued (dunno who decided Vatican or Head Priest Guy at Our Lady of Perpetual Misery.) but it just killed a very good thing going. Who in the hell cancels a packed house event? I mean it’s crazy!!!
So, as an escaped catholic who gave up religion for Lent years ago, I don’t feel guilty about a damn thing.
Freedom, afterall, is the ability to live with the consequences of your decisions. (Jefferson)
I didn’t try as hard as I could have on my last track meet of the season today.
My teacher lent me a worn French copy of Albert Camus’s The Stranger that I don’t intend to give back (it fell into the bottom of my backpack and now all the pages are bent out of shape).
My confession is that sometimes I get really annoyed by homeless people who ask me for money. I hate feeling guilty for not giving them any, and I hate feeling like a chump when I do. For me and homeless people, there’s no middle ground – either feeling like I got ripped off or feeling like I’m an uncaring person. It’s one of the things about myself I don’t like.
I bought 6 Nene Thomas prints at the Scarborough faire today from Nene’s sister. I tried to trade the SO in for more pics since he was flirting with the sister (which, happens to work with some of the SG cast…and there’s a new show coming out this fall!).
And as much as I love the SO’s kids - I’m ready to hog tie the youngest down to the hotel bed we are sharing because she keeps tossing and turning, flipping and flopping and will NOT LAY STILL!
Next time we’re bringing sleeping bags for the kid(s) and they can camp on the floor.
When I was 15, I wanted to break up with my first girlfriend, who I met over the summer in an all-city academic program (she didn’t live anywhere near me) and was the first girl I ever kissed. I decided we didn’t really have a lot in common in the end (she was even a year older than I was), and meeting up with her was a major problem as I already had a 90-minute commute to my school by bus and subway, and her school was another 30 minutes out of the way… But I was too chickenshit to actually have That Conversation with her.
So I simply stopped taking her calls or answering her letters (this was before people had personal Internet email). This went on for a few weeks. Then at Christmastime she sent me a box of a sweater she knitted for me herself, in my favorite color, along with an impassioned plea to at least call her back.
I felt really, really bad. But my by-then 16-year-old chickenshittiness continued to outweigh my conscience. I responded with nothing, which I realize now is still doing something, which is called emotional cruelty.
There was a very sweet intelligent girl in high school who had a serious crush on me. Unfortunately I was not attracted to her at all. I tried to be nice and said the whole lets be friends thing. She didn’t get the hint.
Me and some friends were at some party getting shit faced when she shows up and being all flirty with me. Me with about 5 beers in me, "Get away from me you skank! " The look she gave me will haunt me until I die. It would have been better if she shot daggers with her eyes, all that was there was hurt.