Friday Confessions...

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time again…Friday Confessional. Rather than focus on just one I have a few that have been floating around in my mind as of late.


When I grow up and get married, I'm living alone. (Yes I know it's not proper grammar, but I loved it anyway.)

I love living alone. It’s true. The girl who grew up in a big, noisy family, shared a room with her little sister until she was 22, and has never been alone in her life-thus assumed she could never live alone-LOVES HAVING HER OWN SPACE.
I went from this: (artist's rendition-and turn your head sideways because I can't get it to rotate)

To this: (some were taken on moving day-I promise it looks better now)


See? Everything looks better with pictures hung!
It really is great-no roommates to mesh personalities with, I can come and go as I please, veg out on the couch every night, stock my cupboards with nothing but cereal and Girl Scout Cookies (true story), and leave wet towels on the floor, makeup on the bathroom counter, dirty dishes in the sink-whatever I want goes because it’s MINE.

On the flip-side....

I hate living alone, too.
Sometimes it’s depressing to come home to an empty apartment (there is nothing that makes you more aware of your single status then not having anyone to come home to). There are times where the boredom is so intense I sit there, staring at my phone-thinking about who I could call to break up the monotony and tell about my day-just to have SOME sort of human contact. Some other things that have sucked is getting used to the fact my bedroom window faces a busy road (traffic noises at all hours) AND has the fluorescent lights of the parking lot across the street blaring into my room through the blinds at night (hello black out drapes!). Learning the “settling” noises of a new place all alone in the dead of the night has also been NO FUN. Getting used to paying all the expenses alone is a downer too; as is going to the laundromat, learning how to shop/cook for one, and lugging things to and from your car parked light years away. BUT, all that aside I love knowing that-although it’s tiny-all 525 square feet belongs entirely to me. I don’t care who you are. THAT is pretty damn cool.


I am a firm believer a degree is nothing more than an expensive piece of paper.

Before you gasp and judge and berate me with angry posts, let me explain. With few exceptions-doctors, lawyers, teachers, etc. There is nothing a school can teach me that I can’t learn with good old on the job experience. This has become even MORE apparent to me now that I am once again looking for work (thank you economy for being totally SUCKTASTIC). I have experience in everything-from food service to HR to Accounts Receivable/Payable to Office Administrating to management—you name it, I’ve probably done it. But NOW employers are requiring a BACHELOR’S degree to even be considered. These are ENTRY LEVEL POSITIONS people. Really? Yep. Apparently now you need to have a SPENT $30,000+ on a piece of paper to be qualified enough to MAKE $30,000 a year-because somehow that paper makes you more qualified than me. You would REALLY rather have the snot-nosed brat, fresh out of college, with just their degree in hand, no experience WHATSOEVER-armed only with what they’ve read about in books-to someone who has BEEN in the "trenches" and experienced it head on? Really? That’s like saying you prefer the surgeon fresh out of Medical School with no surgeries under his belt to the 30-year veteran who has performed so many procedures he can do them in his sleep. Makes NO SENSE TO ME. I don’t want to do heart surgery. I just want to do Office Administration.



Donuts can pretty much cure all ills. So do waffles. Especially when they involve these:


And this face:

It's love.

Thanks to Netflix having all five seasons of “Quantum Leap” in the instant cue I have realized not only how much I still LOVE that show but also that I have an oober crush on Scott Bakula. Creepy? Just a little. Why? Because he’s almost DOUBLE my age, old enough to be my father, and a year younger than my MOTHER, yet I just don’t care. I’m convinced the man is like a fine wine. He only gets better with age. Oh! AND he plays the piano and sings! SINGS! Do you know that a good-looking man who sings, acts, plays the piano, and is STRAIGHT is like the Holy Grail of men? It's true. Don't believe me? Have a look:




Circa “Quantum Leap” *sigh*

Today-“Men of a Certain Age” *WOW!*


Maybe it’s because he KINDA resembles my Scott? Hmm…































You be the judge on this one.