ME: "Bless me, Becky, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession."BECKY: "What happened this time?"
ME: "I don't know. I don't think I have a good excuse. When I do it, I always tell myself that it's not that bad. That I deserve it and I just can't help myself."
BECKY: "I know. Go on."
ME: "This time it was as if they were staring at me, calling my name. I couldn't leave them there. I think they needed me as much as I needed them."
BECKY: "How much?"
ME: "$79.99, but they used to be $164...that's like half off right?"
BECKY: "It's reasonable. What do they look like?"
ME: "Remember those orange leather wedges we saw with the braided straw heel?"
BECKY: "No way!?"
ME: "I know right? I just don't know if I can justify it."
BECKY: "Oh, orange goes with everything and once it stops raining, Summer will be right around the corner. I bet you they go really well with jeans."
ME: "They totally go with jeans. They also go with this halter dress I saw but I didn't get. I want to go back."
BECKY: "When?"
ME: "I don't know, what are you doing after work?"
(END SCENE)
Guilt is deeply seeded within my moral register. Thirteen + years (including Kindergarten and college) of Catholic school will do that. Which is why I find it poetic and somewhat entertaining that I confess my deepest darkest secrets to a runaway, coffee-drinking Mormon: Becky. She understands me. She doesn't judge me. I can freely confide in her when I blow through money earmarked for debt reduction on a pair of cognac-colored riding boots without being reprimanded. She will aid and abet me in ordering enough to reach the minimum spending requirement for free shipping when I purchase online. She will even allow me to ship packages to her house so certain individuals will be none the wiser to my clandestine activities. Some would say that she is enabling me in my addiction but I choose to look at it another way, that sometimes true friendship is defined by co-conspiracy. Someone needs to cover your back when the po-po's on your tail. Every girl needs someone who will be on her side when she's in the trenches, my someone is Becky.
This necklace is for Becky. A multi-faceted turquoise bead bridged across gold chain because she sees all my facets; bad, guilty, mischievous, insidious, and occasionally good.
Guilt is deeply seeded within my moral register. Thirteen + years (including Kindergarten and college) of Catholic school will do that. Which is why I find it poetic and somewhat entertaining that I confess my deepest darkest secrets to a runaway, coffee-drinking Mormon: Becky. She understands me. She doesn't judge me. I can freely confide in her when I blow through money earmarked for debt reduction on a pair of cognac-colored riding boots without being reprimanded. She will aid and abet me in ordering enough to reach the minimum spending requirement for free shipping when I purchase online. She will even allow me to ship packages to her house so certain individuals will be none the wiser to my clandestine activities. Some would say that she is enabling me in my addiction but I choose to look at it another way, that sometimes true friendship is defined by co-conspiracy. Someone needs to cover your back when the po-po's on your tail. Every girl needs someone who will be on her side when she's in the trenches, my someone is Becky.
This necklace is for Becky. A multi-faceted turquoise bead bridged across gold chain because she sees all my facets; bad, guilty, mischievous, insidious, and occasionally good.
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