I Confess

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My fellow finalist Sensible Mom has tagged me to play the blogging game, "I Confess." And since confession is the first step towards repentance, here goes…

I confess… to not praying anywhere near as often as I should. Not because I don't think it's important, but because I never get around to it. Ironically enough, I was most consistent during the summer when I dormed at Georgetown. Not many Orthodox Jews get the chance to pray consistently on a Jesuit campus, I imagine.

I am pretty consistent about saying the Blessing for the Torah; and I recite Psalm 121 almost every day. It's a personal favorite.

I confess… to sometimes using my disability to get out of physical work. This is counterbalanced by my pride and desire not to be limited by my disability; on one memorable occasion during our Philmont backpack, my brother used this pride against me when I was slacking off, with devastating results. Sneaky devil, him.

I confess… to jointly owning original Advanced Dungeons & Dragons manuals by Gary Gygax. This was a late enough revision that races and classes were already separate, but well before 2nd Edition. They were gifts from a dear friend of the family when my brother and I were growing up, who I haven't heard from in years.

I confess… that I simply despise small-talk. I can talk for hours about things, but I am congenitally incapable of simply talking for the sake of talking. As you can imagine, this makes socializing difficult. On that topic…

I confess… that when I am among girls, I can feel myself giving off a powerful vibe of I am completely out of my element. It's an amazingly effective repellant; I just might license the patent to Coleman for use against mosquitos.

I confess… to chronically being in the middle of half a dozen projects, one of which is a book which is getting progressively less muddled with each aborted draft.

I confess… to being extremely private with my friends on campus. At one point, I realized that almost nobody around me knew my birthday, where I went to school, anything about my family (except that I had a brother), or anything about my earlier experiences.

I confess… that my deepest regrets concerning by disability are that it makes attracting a wife harder (particularly when I don't put in the work on my end), that I am a poor dancer, and that I could not serve in the military.

I confess… that I deal civilly enough with some people who I think of scornfully, and during whole conversations I imagine braining them with a 2x4, as I smile and nod.

I confess… to admiring myself in mirrors or other reflective surfaces. (Honestly, how could I possibly resist?)

I confess… that if I could ignore all the obligations on me and assume that money were no object, I would live in a tastefully opulent mansion in the Golan Heights, where I would drink fine wine, write my books, make music, pray, meditate and become a practitioner of medical Chi Gong. Oh, and bomb the hell out of every oil well in the Middle East.

That's it. Now I have to pass this game along to somebody… I think I'll tag Geek With a .45, my friend Ezra Klein, Soccer Dad, and Eric of Eric's Grumbles.


karen Codman said...

What is all of this nonsense about women and disabilities -- or women in general. I happen to know a number of women who are crazy about you (and I am not talking about your relations here) if you would deign to notice them.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start paying attention to the real world.


Asher said...

Ouch! That's harsh.

Mastiff said...

Guys are supposed to feel sorry for themselves. It's traditional!

But, point taken.

Janette said...

I have the same problem with small talk. I know it's not usually a problem for a female but I really struggle in social situations where light chit chat is expected.