"But I've got to speak or lose you now. This is my confession. This is my confession. I bare my soul to you."

So you're sitting there thinking to yourself, "Did she seriously just quote Richard Marx on her blog?" Yes, my friends. That's Richard Marx, alright. I like to keep my public (and I use that term loosely!) guessing.
I've decided that every now and again, I'm going to toss in a true confession. Something to help remind you that I--yes, even I--am human. A little nugget of self-depreciation that you can pull out of your pocket and enjoy on those days when you feel like maybe you struggle more than the average friend. I'll give you two:
1. I am wearing the same clothes today that I wore yesterday. I was so tired last night (I was up late doing what else but making a book..I have GOT to get 2007 scrapbooked for heck's sake!) and I was so exhausted when I finally shut down the computer that I just crawled into bed without changing my clothes. Then I woke this morning to a peculiar smell that I think might be called, "That smell that lingers when you've not washed your dishes in a week" combined with "eau de puppy" and that became my priority. So after an hour of dishwashing (why I have no dishwasher is beyond me, although Scott is happy to point out that while I do not have a dishwasher HE does.) I tackled the puppy paper. Holy cow, those little puppies poo a whole lot. It's as if elephants sneak in at night to do their business. We've discussed my really great gag reflex so I was sure to do this before eating anything (because then I just heave up that really yummy acidy bile stuff), I tied a handkerchief around my nose and mouth that I had sprayed with lavendar room spray and went to work. Incidentally, can I tell you that I heaved so much, I feel like I just went through the abs of steel workout twice! And Scott just changed it last night!! Egads. The saddest part of my tale is that we've run out of newspaper that we pilfer from whomever we can who gets the paper, so I called my only next door neighbor with whom I can communicate sans the gift of tongues. She said that she was pretty sure she had some so I go over there (with my Nick Nolte bedhead and in my day old clothes half soaked from my dishwashing experience) to find out that she forgot she doesn't take the paper anymore. What? However, eager to help, she gave me a pile of "Catholic Community" newsletters. I have to admit, I'm feeling a little bit of guilt putting that down for the puppies to poo on! This only increases my liklihood of going right straight to hell. Or, as my old roommate Claire and I used to say, "Greasing the pole. Just greasing the pole that will send me straight down." I have no choice, though, and I don't know if I need to go to Confession and take care of that or if I can just do that on my own or what? Hmmm.
True confession #2: I sometimes drink milk right out of the jug. Remember this if you're ever at my house and ask for a glass of milk. You may or may not get my germs also.
Is it just me or has Halle Barry been pregnant forever? I know it feels like that to pregnant women, but it seriously seems like it's been over a year and I don't think she'll ever have that little goldmine, er, baby.