Penance

This will probably be one of the most difficult entries that I will ever write.

For all of you out there in Blog-land, let me forewarn you that this entry is not for your benefit. This one is solely directed to Mom and Dad. There are a few issues I need to come clean on, mainly because I'm tired of censoring myself. I'm sure most of my admittances will not really be big surprises; I just want to make sure they haven't booked passage on a pleasure cruise down the treacherous river we call Denial.

(Apologies all around for sinking to the level of that ancient pun.)

Here goes. Mom and Dad, a few things...

I smoke. I have for the better part of twelve years now. Yes, I know how bad it is for me, and what horrible chemicals I'm putting into my body. If it's any consolation, I've cut back considerably. I now only smoke clove cigarettes and the occasional Camel Light.

(For those of you who aren't my parents, I know how ridiculous this sounds. But coming from a non-smoking family, I feel like I've commited some horrible cardinal sin and have been hiding my guilty little secret for over a decade. Yikes.)

I have a tattoo. I know how you feel about them and that you disapprove of the current fashion trend. I thought long and hard about whether I wanted one - for almost two years - before I plunked my money down on the counter. It's small. It's tasteful (in my opinion). It's on my left upper arm. I've had it for 2 1/2 years. As a result of my decision, I have consciously worn sleeves around you during this entire time period. I've prayed for rain every time you invited me to go swimming. I really wanted to go on vacation with you last year, but between the ink on my arm and the cancer sticks in my pocket, it just wasn't possible.

I curse like a sailor sometimes. I'm sure you've noticed a few inappropriate phrases sneaking in under the radar in past entries. I've tried to hold my tongue, but in the event that I go off on an expletive-filled rant, I want to at least forewarn you. I'm trying to write this in my own voice as much as possible, and I'm not all sunshine and roses. Sometimes life irritates me enough that "gosh darn it, that old so-and-so" doesn't cut it.

I've had sex. Duh. I'm 32 years old, and I've been on the singles scene for 14 of them. I'm not the Whore of Babylon, but I'm no blushing schoolgirl either. Yes, I am meticulously safe, and tend to be monogamous, even though I'm a serial monogamist. Yes, a lot of my friends (past and present) have been men, but most of the time when I hang out with a guy a lot, it's just that - a platonic-no-nookie havin' friendship thing. Sometimes it's not, and frankly, we're not playing Parcheesi.

(At this point, the rest of my readers mutter a collective "Big deal!" and, yawning, go find something more interesting to read on the internet.)

I'm sure you are more than a bit disappointed by my revelations. I almost feel like I'm apologizing for the way I live my life. After all, I was not brought up this way. But from the way I look at it, I was. I was raised to be a free-thinking individual who is capable of making her own decisions and takes responsibility for her actions, be they right or wrong. I don't want you to feel like I'm parading my differences in opinions in front of you for shock value; in fact, that's why I've hidden them for so long. But hiding who you really are is pretty much equal to lying, and I was raised to be an honest person. I've felt guilty about my dishonesty, and I do apologize for that.

This is not to say I'm going to chain-smoke at the next family gathering or pepper my speech with a bevy of blue language around you. I will still respect your feelings towards these issues. I just wanted to let you know about these parts of my life so in the event that I write about something and refer to going outside for a smoke or something like that, it won't come as a complete surprise or shock.

I'm sorry if I've upset or disappointed you in any way with this entry.

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Wow, this was a downer of a post. I'll move on to more cheerful subjects next week, I promise. Hopefully I'll have some interesting stories to tell from the Witches Ball, which I am off to get ready for. Have a good weekend, all.