Courtney Confessions

  • I have a legitimate road rage problem. Like, it's serious. I've mentioned my traffic-induced angst on this blog before, but listening to Christian music hasn't done much to help curb the verbal diarrhea I fill my car with on a daily basis while I honk at people who are obviously unaware that they have a turn signal. And the fact that Bloomington is one giant construction zone during the summer has only exasperated the problem. Since I know that being calm, cool and collected in a detour lane is impossible, I've taken a new approach to evading my road rage. Rather than trying to censor myself and making feeble attempts to prevent the inevitable, I'm still allowing myself to scream in my car ... I'm just screaming pleasantries. At the same guttural decibel that I would have previously shouted, "LEARN TO DRIVE, A-HOLE!", I simply yell, "HAVE A NICE DAY!" instead. Screaming pleasantries allows me to physically vent my frustration, but it keeps me from being a potty mouth and embarrassing Jesus. That may or not make any sense at all, but I don't care. It works for me.
  • Even though Clayton and I have been married for over 3.5 years now, I still can't get over how amazing it is to refer to him as "my husband". Calling him my HUSBAND still feels so shiny and new that whenever I address him as such to other people, my heart instantly feels fuzzy and I get a big dopey smile on my face. Hearing myself say it sounds almost too unbelievably good to be true.

    Holy geeze! This is from 2003!

  • I love wedge sandals so much that I inadvertently ended up with 3 different pairs in my closet this year. They're the perfect summer shoe and I love to dress them up with crisp, white shorts or dress them down with jeans. The only problem with wedge sandals? They're a death trap waiting to happen. They're so heavy and clunky on my feet that I tend to trip far more than my klutzy self does on a normal day. This afternoon I walked outside for a break and just about tripped and fell in front of a large group of people standing by the door. Embarrassed, I stared at the ground for several befuddled seconds, hoping I could convince the onlookers that the sidewalk sprang up out of nowhere and attacked me.

  • I'm secretly delighted when people remember how much I love something or think about me when I'm not physically present. It strokes my ego, I'm not going to lie. I came home from work on Monday night to a package waiting for me on the table. I opened the box and squealed with delight when I unwrapped a set of ceramic owl measuring cups from West Elm. Apparently my sister emailed Clay a link to them awhile back, thinking I would really like them (and right she was!). And my darling husband ordered me a set as a lovely surprise!

    The very next day I went to work and my co-worker, Brittany, presented me with an owl notebook she found at TJ Maxx. She's so sweet. It totally made my day!

    Contrary to what you just read, you do not need to buy me a present to win my affection. It just so happened that these thoughtful gestures came in owl-shaped packages. I happily accept expressions of endearment in the form of high fives and smiles, too.

Do you have anything to confess today?