:: confessions ::

I'm a bit lost without my journal. I left it at church on Sunday, accidentally, and feel like I haven't had any important thoughts since. That is, nothing has been documented. And in many cases, isn't documentation the only reliable evidence?

So I've wanted to write here but haven't been able to go through my usual cycle of living-writing-sharing. I'm stuck on the first step, which I guess is a good place to be. Today that living has mostly been watching the stress that hangs on a word: professionalism. Sometimes I want to rip off Professionalism's tie and unplug his powerpoint presentation and see what he has left on the rest of us. Is it really better because it's a memo and not a post-it note?

Sometimes I hate America. Today someone told me that good hair and make-up for a photo shoot would cost them over $1,000. Their cheaper "it will have to do" choice was $600. To look good. In a picture. I said something in response about how that shouldn't matter, and we could take good pictures without the large deficit to her bank account. I sounded crazy. If this is crazy, I'd rather be in the assylum than on the streets.