Normally I'm not a fan of those blog posts where people can anonymously confess all their wicked ways, if for no other reason than the anonymity prevents me from starting a club. If folks'd just own up to cleaning the bathroom only after the scum around the tub begins shouting a cheery "Hello" in the morning, then we fellow travelers wouldn't feel so lonely.
So today I offer for your consideration my "Is That Bad?" list, signed, sealed, and completely attributed to me and me alone. These items come in no particular order or degree of debauchery. I don't talk about the "s" word that rhymes with "sex", so you don't need to worry about being embarrassed. Grossed out, disappointed, nauseated - possibly. Embarrassed? Naaaaa.
1: I had onion rings and Diet Coke for breakfast this morning. I can NOT for the life of me figure out why this lap band isn't working like it should.
2: I spent most of Saturday morning hating every single Mormon on the face of the earth who has ever felt the need to eat in the chapel. Seriously, people. You live 10 minutes from the building. Is it really necessary to bring lunch to Sacrament Meeting? And what's with the amnesia that overwhelms you the second your kids have polished off the fruit snacks? Unlike manna, gummy toads or whatever the hell kids are eating these days come in wrappers. WRAPPERS! Wrappers which do not evaporate or skulk off to another dimension or walk themselves to the nearest waste basket when they're empty.
If the church in your area has not yet begun the practice of having the building cleaned by members instead of full-time custodians, you should know that it's coming. Going a few rounds with that vacuum cleaner between all the pews will cure you of picnicking in the chapel.
3: Since I began blogging 14 months ago, I have never started a load of laundry or emptied the dishwasher before checking in with blogland. I do those things eventually. But they're never first.
4: I didn't see a single one of the movies nominated for Academy Awards. I'm actually very proud of this.
5: I once asked my Relief Society president how an active member of the church goes about being added to the Visiting Teaching "Do Not Contact" list. In case you're wondering what the answer was, I'll just tell you that the Relief Society president is now my Visiting Teacher.
6: I have been known to say that it's a sin to be boring. Look, if alcoholism is a disease, then cornering me at the library and droning on about how you're filing your taxes this year using form WGX-9000 because it allows you to deduct tapioca pudding as a business expense is a sin. Repent.
7: I also learned on Saturday morning that I feel bitter when a six-year old - who has come to the church to play basketball with her daddy - takes a drink out of a stainless steel fountain I've just spent 20 minutes polishing.
8: And another thing I discovered is that daddies waaay overreact when you hold their kid's head under the water until she promises to bring a paper towel next time. Sheesh.
9: I tell my son, every single day of his life, that he's a dork. I regret nothing.
10: I cheated on a Music History exam in Dr. Miller's class my Junior year of college. My karma being the sociopath that it is, I chose as my "resource" the only girl in the class who had attended fewer times that semester than I had. Dr. Miller caught us, of course. (You'd think that by age 20 I would have learned the perilous meaning of the word "verbatim".) He called us on it, and we both lied our butts clean off. He was a good and decent man, and gave us both Ds instead of the Cs we might have earned otherwise. She might have earned, I mean. I was just along for the ride. To this day I wonder why she didn't push me down the stairs of Kingsbury Hall on our way out of his office.
11: Three years ago, I took the Las Vegas Mormon Youth Symphony and Chorus to Salt Lake City, and while the kids toured Peter Prier's violin making school, I dropped in on Dr. Ed Thompson, who was working on a project at the U of U music library. It so happened he was working with -- of all people -- Dr. Miller. And I confessed my sins and begged his forgiveness and told him that if he wanted, I would retake every test from both years of Music History.
And here's the crazy thing: He remembered the incident, twenty years later, and told me he'd been very disappointed that I had first cheated and then lied. Can I tell you, that absolutely killed me. Dead. It would have been a thousand times better if he had just failed me when he had the chance. You know, maybe he knew that, too.
I think he's one of the best people on earth. And I bet he never eats in church.
12: I once faked a broken leg to get out of going to work. Yeah, that's thinking ahead. I couldn't say "sprained", right? At least then I could have wrapped it myself and hobbled around the bank for a few days. No, I said, "broken". Like my boss wouldn't notice the marked absence of a cast when I came in the next morning. I'm beginning to understand the difficulties my karma has in keeping up with me.
13: Speaking of Dr. Thompson, a couple of April conferences ago I saw him on T.V. conducting the Tabernacle Choir. And he looked so joyful to be back in his element that it just filled my heart to overflowing with happiness for him.
So I texted him. Right then and there. While he was waving that baton, I was texting, "You look great! If you smile any bigger I'm afraid your jaw will unhinge and the top of your head will snap off!"
And, I am not even kidding, three speakers later, Dallin H. Oaks got up and rebuked people who text in church. I hate my karma's freaking guts.
14: I haven't made my bed since the Reagan administration. Wait. That was in high school. Carter? Nope, Jr. High. Wasn't making my bed then, either. Ford? Nixon? Criminy, Johnson?
15: Apparently, I never make my bed.
16: I went four straight years doing the exact same thing every morning: Get up, use the potty, stand on the scale, mutter "sh*t", put on my robe, and start my day. Four years. That's gotta be some kind of record.
Things have improved significantly since I got rid of my scale. Now I don't say "sh*t" until I get downstairs and take in my kids' version of "doing the dishes".
17: On Saturday morning I gained a sure and everlasting witness that the single greatest invention in the history of forever and always is the self-flushing urinal.
Is that bad?