Confession: I am not much of a Black Friday shopper. My purchases of the day totaled one large plastic sled, two gas candle lighters, one sympathy card, and one bottle of dish soap. My friend bought a couch. She is a sweet old lady, this friend, and I am starting to forget that the first time […]
Big Lots on Black Friday Read More »
Confession: I hate fitting rooms. You would think that any business owner with a scrap of intuition could work this simple math: Any decent woman (+) one dog-ugly room (-) any homey touches whatsoever (+) glaring fluorescent lights (+) the merciless babble of the woman in the next stall on her cell phone (does not
My kinda fitting room Read More »
This post is not a confession. I ought to have one blog on which to confess and one on which to brag. But you wouldn’t read the brag blog, would you? Oh that’s right, you would–you already read fifty others. Sigh. You’ll just have to put up with the occasional non-confession from the Confessions girl.
A theoretical date with George Read More »
Confession: I have never understood our solicitous obsession with enquiring about each other’s state of being. It’s always the first thing we ask: “How are you?” The tone changes; the words never do. I say it as often as anybody, but I think it a peculiar piece of civility. We ask it in letters; we
This post is an inside window into what it’s like sending my sensory-driven son Regan to first grade. He is blessed: with an amazing school, a small classroom, and a wonderful teacher who loves him–Miss Yvonne Yoder. Though I wrote the post as if to her, she knows every bit of it already. And more.
King of the wild cards Read More »
In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that in
The work of a critic Read More »
Confession: Name tags confuse me. I can never quite see the point of them. They seem to be made for the purpose of avoiding surface introductions and cutting right to the heart of the matter, such as discussing the weather, say, or the quality of the coffee. However, they do not work. They are usually
A convenient handle Read More »
Confession: My least favorite part of church is taking up the offering. This has nothing to do with how we take it up (into innocent wicker-and-burgundy-felt baskets) or when (slipped between the announcements and the songs), or who or how much or why… No. It’s all about the drama. You see, we give our sons
Confession: I’m discovering unpleasant things about Pandora. I love Pandora. I hate its ads. Yes, I know I could upgrade to ad-free listening for just $9.95 per month! I’ve heard the pitch twenty times; not biting. But get this– When I listen to Kings Singers or High Kings radio, I hear ads for great cars and
Where does the title come from? Click here. ***** Confession: When people tell me that the universe is infinite, I don’t know what to say. So I hold my tongue. But it never seemed realistic to me than anything created could be spatially infinite. There are “ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands”