Entries in Full Confessional Friday (82)

Friday
Nov082013

is it just mrs. g. or is everyone else sick of looking at that damn leaf photo? or, alternately titled, the old gal finally plugs black in or, alternately alternately titled, a fresh, piping hot Full Confessional Friday! 11/8/2013

Mrs. G. is back today, peaceful and rested from her nearly three week Luddite cleanse -- no television, no computer, no Facebook, no email, no radio, unplugged. She would like to have given you fair warning but when she reaches technological/media burnout, it comes on like that day you know you need a haircut and your stylist is off (Really, Marissa? You needed to spend time with your children today? Is that what we're calling professionalism now? Fine, I guess.) and come hell or high water you are going to get a haircut today, by somebody, anybody, even though you consciously know you and your head are on a road to ruin, and that poor Marissa is going to spend at least eight months reclaiming and reconstructing what's left behind, all while kindly, gently ministering to your general morale and sense of well being because...your hair, it's really fucked up --  it's not doing your face any  favors -- and she plain feels sorry for you.

It comes on like that -- fast and irrational -- and Mrs. G. just starts pulling cords out of walls. At least the elections are over. 

So, hello again, you fine women you. Bear hugs all around, More stories on Monday, a couple of good ones too. When it's so quiet, it's easy to take a fairly detailed personal inventory. More on that later.

But it's Friday, so get your motors running...

One of the workers is in charge of the camp mascot

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.   

 

 

Photo: A smiling British volunteer is pictured with the dog that acted as her regiment's mascot. The adoption of dogs as mascots by British regiments reflects the important military roles fulfilled by dogs as far back as ancient Egyptian, Greek and Roman times, where dogs were variously used as sentries, messengers and trackers.

Although this mascot may have had a more symbolic purpose, dogs did fulfil a variety of practical roles during World War I including hunting for rats, carrying food and ammunition, and pulling carts and sledges. The regiment this dog was attached to was the Queen Mary's Army Auxiliary Corps.

Friday
Oct112013

Full Confessional Friday! 10/11/2013

Free Vivid Autumn Colors Orange Leaf on Red Unedited Creative Commons

Photo by Pink Sherbert Photography

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.  

Friday
Oct042013

Full Confessional Friday! 10/4/2013

 


Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.  

 

Friday
Sep202013

Full Confessional Friday! 9/20/2013

 

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister. 

 

Friday
Sep062013

Seven Years and Full Confessional Friday! 9/6/2013

Today marks Mrs. G's seventh year spilling virtual ink on this blog. Seven is her favorite number for two reasons: one, she was 7-years-old when she was allowed to go see Young Frankenstein and commence her lifelong love affair with laughter and Madeline Kahn, and two, when she writes the number 7, putting the slash through its torso makes her feel all Continental European.

Seven. A good run. We've had some tip-top times, haven't we?

stopsign

 

But, hey, it's Friday, so let's get to it.

Little Girl Jumping in Party Dress

Photo by Pink Sherbert Photography

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.  

Friday
Aug302013

Full Confessional Friday! 8/30/2013

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.   

Thursday
Aug222013

Full Confessional Friday! 8/22/2013

Unidentified women sunbath at the Hollywood Beach Trailer Park: Hollywood, Florida

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.  

 

Photo: Unidentified women sunbathe at the Hollywood Beach Trailer Park: Hollywood, Florida by Charles Baron.

Friday
Aug162013

Quick Update and Full Confessional Friday!

Well hells bells, it's good to be back. One kid settled into the next exciting, I-get-a paycheck! phase of her life and the other flying off to the Big Apple next week for four more years of book smarts. Mrs. G. is settling into a new job* and brand of bra. We are knee deep in change here on 11th Street and you know what? It feels pretty good.

First, Mrs. G. genuinely apologizes to all the California derfs she was unable to reach out to during her stay. Due to her new job's start date, minus travel time, she was only in Los Angeles for six days. Unless you lived in Target, Discount Mattresses, Goodwill, T.J. Maxx, Ralphs, the Credit Union or Miss G's Ford Focus, Mrs. G. had no time to spare. She and her daughter busted ass furnishing her new space and familiarizing themselves with her new neighborhood, all while enduring the mental disorder that deserves, minimum, six pages of signs and symptoms in the DSM -- Driving In Los Angeles. Behind the wheel, Miss and Mrs. G. were in an unremitting state of conniption or tizzy.

Second, there will be no shortage of trips to L.A., so if you'll have her, Mrs. G. will likely show up on your doorstep sometime soon.

Third, Mrs. G. plans to get this blog back in its righteous groove next week. She is working overtime to reclaim her most comfortable place, the place with routines, predictability and regular bedtimes. Mrs. G. has finally accepted that the only time she lives on the edge is right before she falls off a curb.

photo

Fourth, it's Friday, so confess, profess, come clean or just say hello. It's nice to see you again!

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.  

 

*More on the new job when Mrs. G. figures out how to cleverly share it without breaking the company's social networking policy. Oh the stories.