It is always so utterly demoralizing to realize just how shallow a person I really am.
Confession #1: The HSN Samurai-Sword demonstration accident makes me laugh. Oh, ho, ho... yes it does.
Confession #2: During Alicia Key's touching Super Bowl performance of America the Beautiful-- accompanied by 150 students from the Florida School for the Deaf and the Blind singing and signing their little hearts out-- I couldn't stop thinking about Napoleon Dynamite's Happy Hands Club performance of The Rose. Which of course, totally ruined the viewing experience for me. I giggled. A LOT. Thanks a whole BUNCH, Jared Hess! Idiot!
Confession #3: I watch American Idol (gasp!), and I more often than not agree with Simon over Paula. Mm-kay, that one's not so bad, right? Right?
Confession #4: I think fake boobs look, um... well, fake, but I secretly want a pair. Or not so secretly, as it turns out. Hey, I'm not talking Tara Reid here, think more Jessica Simpson... Heh-heh. Of course I'm TOTALLY kidding. Who wouldn't be happy with an almost B cup? I would never want fake melons. Heh-heh. What a kidder I am. Woo-hoo! Crazy Fake Booby Joke-Telling Lady! Gosh. Fake boobs...
Confession #5: When I hear interviews on the radio, I tend to make snap judgements about a person by the sound of his/her voice. (And I'm from ARIZONA.) Last week I heard a man with a THICK southern accent-- thick as MOLASSES, I'm telling you-- being interviewed on the radio for a book he wrote or something. So I'm driving along thinking to myself, "Who's this moron?" I was pretty sure everything he said sounded completely ignorant. You know, stuff like "both mah wahf an Ah hay-uv middle-clay-uss bayuk-rands..." Yep. It was John Grisham.
Confession #6: Sometimes, not very often, probably like once in the past few years-- really, I'm not lying, it's, like, rarely ever-- but sometimes, sometimes... [small, small voice, almost a whisper] I... don't signal. GAH! I'm sorry! I'm so, SO SOOOOOORRREEEEEEEEY!! Oh, the shame...
Confession #7: It is possible that I may have faked my way through a few Presidential Debate discussions around the water-cooler, when in reality, I spent the evening watching Rory Gilmore TOTALLY do it with a very married CuteDean. Oh, ho, ho... yes I did.
Wow. I feel SO much better now. Confession is good for the soul! Or something.