True Confession: Dream Crusher

I was not raised Catholic. Not exactly. I was raised in the Episcopal church. Think all the hoopla of the Catholic church but without the guilt. We drank wine (and still do) and danced (and still do) but without a single Hail Mary or confession. It was and is glorious…but as a result, you are required to hear me confess an entire quarter of a century’s worth of I-probably-shouldn’t-haves in my very own ongoing blog confessional. What? You thought I dish out my DIY tips for free? Silly friend.

True Confession: I crush nostalgia.

Elaboration is needed…

Nearly every friend-client I meet invites me into their home for the first time with the same You’ve probably never seen a house this messy. I just didn’t have time to tidy up! disclaimer. Oh, trust this girl. I have, and worse. In our line of business it’s not uncommon to stumble upon hoarding situations, dirty unmentionables, and oh, I don’t know, entire rooms filled with “adult” entertainment, shall we say? We’ve seen lots…and lots.

AND if you’re as big of a home talker as I am, everyone wants to chat you up about the house they just bought or grew up in or where their piano teacher/first boyfriend/super hunky lifeguard lived…and I LOVE it. I could talk it up all day…until I crush nostalgia-packed memories by releasing comments such as these from my unfiltered mouth…

…Oh! I love that house! Man, you should have seen it before they cleaned all of the bat guano out of the attic….

…or…Yes! I know exactly which house you are talking about! I’m really glad the new owners could look past the pile of syringes in the basement and symbols spray painted on the walls…

…or…Great house! Best layout on the street! I remember when it was on the market, there was this gigantic self portrait of the owner in the dining room, and I swear to you, she had a beard thicker than most 40 year old men…Oh, that was your aunt’s house? Like I said, fabulous layout…

It happens. By now I’ve gotten pretty good at catching myself when I feel the inappropriateness bubbling from within, but should you stumble upon me after a long day or a glass of wine or two, you can’t say you weren’t adequately warned when I reveal that your granny hid a well-worn voodoo doll in the AC vent that carried a strikingly similar resemblance to your grandpa.

Happy Thursday, y’all!

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