The Plaid Pladd

As well as telling the Internet my greatest triumphs like appearing on NASCAR News or being Hannah Montana, it seems only fair that I also write my greatest embarrassments so that no one gets jealous of how awesome I am.

Confession: I recently bought Twilight.
I know, I know, I feel awful about it. Especially since I’ve already managed to read the first three books through extreme patience and library-fu. Buying a Twilight book is shameful. Buying a Twilight book you’ve already read is definitely more shameful. To be fair, it is on my reading list for my Young Adult Literature Class next semester, and I did buy it at a used book store for $3. I don’t think any of that went to Stephanie Meyer, so I still feel pretty okay about the practical facts, but my reputation may never recover. I knew this would be necessary since the tens or hundreds of people on the waiting list for it back at my library at home would make it impossible to guarantee my having it a specific week for class, but, oddly, this morning when I went online to request the fourth book, Breaking Dawn, to write a wildly popular review of it, I found that I was number FOUR on the list. And there are EIGHT copies. I’ll probably have it tomorrow. I’m shocked by Twilight’s apparent lack of popularity here, until I realized that a typo in the description of the book calls the vapid main character “Ellen Swan” instead of “Bella Swan”, thus confusing legions of preteen girls. Suckers.

In Penance for this: I vow to be as sarcastic and withering as possible to the inevitable one or two people in our class discussion who will gush endlessly about how much they love Twilight.

Confession: I am incurring library fines AS WE SPEAK
As a librarian, this is incredibly shameful. It gets worse: the source of these fines is none other than the book-on-CD version of I’d Tell You I Love You But Then I’d Have to Kill You. To be fair, I didn’t steal it so that it could be mine forever, but simply forgot to give it to Mom Ladd before her return to Florida and have since been unable to find it to mail it back myself. Trixie probably hid it. Which means that, years from now, someone will pull it from some secret compartment in the back seat, stare at it with raised eyebrows, and then say “Patricia R. Ladd, why do you own this?” in a disgusted tone.

In penance for this: I vow to NOT punch them in the face.

Confession: I stole a full set of cutlery from the Servery
Which I am using EVEN NOW, hundreds of miles away. Just like my embarrassing library fines, I didn’t do this on purpose either. I just sort of found various spoons and forks and knives in various purses and book bags while attempting to pack. On the plus side, it can be very useful to have a fork in your purse, in case someone offers you free but messy food while out and about. On the minus side, they tend to look at you a little funny, and I may be the sole reason why the Servery is losing money.

In Penance for this: I vow to only eat with said cutlery things worthy of the Servery. Meaning anything I cook while really tired or am having one of those haphazard “well, I’m sure applesauce is a fine substitution for flour” kind of days.

There. Now my conscience is clear.