the confessional

There was a time when the word confessional conjured images of church.


You fellow Roman Catholics out there know what I mean, right.

That small, enclosed booth used for the Sacrament of Penance.  For confession.  Or, in Roman Catholic church terms, Reconciliation. You sat in one side.  The priest right next door.  Separated by a lattice.  With a sliding screen that only the priest could open and close.  Often abruptly.  And loudly.


Oh, and the waiting for the sliding screen to slide open abruptly and loudly was excruciating … nerve-wracking.


Yeah.  That wasn’t scary for second grader.


And as I sat there shaking in my penny loafers waiting for the loud and abrupt opening of the sliding door, I tried desperately to think about all the sins I had committed since my last confession.


“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.  It’s been two weeks since my last confession … ummm …

I had mean thoughts about my teacher …  I fought with my sister …  I lied to my friend …”

But the word ‘confessional’ took on a whole new meaning in 1992, thanks to Bunim/Murray Productions.  And The Real World.  I’m talking about the very first one in New York — what I consider to be the great-grandfather and great-grandmother of reality television.  (Though, to be fair, Bunim & Murray came up with the idea based on PBS’ An American Family documentary series).


And now we can collectively cheer – or jeer – Bunim and Murray for the guilty pleasure (and/or monster) they created.  Because if you watch reality television, you know “the confessionals” are the best part.  The juiciest.  The most controversial.  That’s when the gloves come off.  Curtains are drawn back.  And the real truths are told.  Mean thoughts are shared … lies are exposed … fights are fueled …


So on this sunny Sunday, let me share my confessional with you all:


The bead board wallpaper for the master bedroom remains unhung.  It’s still in roll form.  Teasing me.  Taunting me.  In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s having mean thoughts about me ….




I’ll spare you the litany of excuses.  Some of which may include work. And some of which may include procrastination …


On the plus side, I did throw more money against the master bedroom remodel. In the form of deeply discounted fabrics using 60% and 50% off coupons.






I also successfully corralled the chaos that was our house and tamed it … a bit.  I find it hard to dig into a project when the “stuff” that collects on my dining room table and coffee table and kitchen countertops is having a big old messy party …


And now I’m supposed to make a bold statement. Offer up a promise that bead board will finally make it off the roll this week … but that whole Thanksgiving thing is throwing me off.


And did I mention Science Fair is coming up post-Thanksgiving?  The nemesis of every grade school parent in the Chicago public school system …


So I’ll skip the promises … and maybe next Sunday I’ll have some surprising news to confess?





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  1. says

    Ugh science fair… you dear, poor woman! it is the bane of my existence!! Love, love, love the fabric! and lets not talk about the whole 60% off coupon… because I might seriously break down wailing, sobbing.. because ya know.. umm I read the date wrong on the calendar… and went to use it a day late… (sigh) plus some “other” WOMAN used HER 60% off coupon and bought the ENTIRE roll of burlapy goodness… aka jute webbing. Can you say broken hearted? But seriously I’m okay now.. and your fabric really is gorgeous!! :)

  2. says

    Thanksgiving does throw a wrench into things!

    My husband decided that today was “the day” to get everything done, but wound up waking the baby from her nap with all the power drilling and now even less will be done!

    Happy Thanksgiving!


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