Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Confession Tuesday

The Image on our Hip Hotel Room Wall

Dear Reader, 

It's been one week since I've last confessed, but a roadtrip makes me feel as if it's been ages, maybe it has been.  Maybe I've been in Portland for 3 weeks instead of 3 days.  As a homebody, traveling makes me feel that way.

But I'm back and it's Tuesday, 2 reasons I better start telling you my sins.  I guess I'll begin here... to the confessional--



I confess these may or may not have been the books that Powell's selected for their New & Favorite Poetry.

I confess when I go into bookstores and see my friends' poetry books, I face them out or move them so they get better recognition.  I may have done this to your book too.  And if I read your blog or ended up on a blog that has been helpful to me and you have ads you are getting revenue from, I may have followed a few links to say thank you.

~

I confess I tend not to get annoyed when traveling when things don't work out because I figure it's all material for later use.  I think that is why people see me as an easygoing person.  I tend not to freak out over little things and in fact, tend to deal with things with humor.  (Note: this might not be fun for you if you like to freak out and/or get worked up about little things as I'll be making a joke of something.)

I confess I do freak out though, but it usually has to do with something from someone I love that just rips my torso open.  Or if I'm ridiculously hungry and no one will allow me to get something to eat (Note:  this never happened on our trip - we were all on the same happy level when it came to snacks.)

I confess usually as long as I have snacks I am happy.


(Backstory: When I was a girl of the 70's, my mum used to pack me a brown paperbag of snacks to take with me on roadtrips, which is why I think I still do the same thing minus brown paperbag- it's now an eco bag.

I remember sitting in the back of our Pinto station wagon having my own personal picnic as we raced down the highway...  Um, this was before carseats, seatbelt use, and obviously any sort of safety measures for kids.  I was the Pinto darling of the 70's, unrestrained and well-fed.)

~
Susan Rich & Annette Spaulding-Convy, Portland 2010

I confess I was hoping to find a Kells' bar, but we did find a Rich's Cigar Store & Magazines for Susan.  And no, we did not go in.

Amen.

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6 comments:

Susan Rich said...

Thanks, Kelli! I confess that some days owning a cigar and magazine store actually sounds just right. What would my poems be like if they were surrounded by cigar boxes and suede sacs of tobacco?

It was a fun trip and I am ready to hit the road with you and Annette again -- maybe for Dodge!

Anonymous said...

Kel, I spent many hours in the back of a pinto wagon as well. Did your family wagon grunt like a pig too? NP

Kells said...

Susan, a cigar store (and magazine shop) should definitely make its way into your poem. And yes a fun trip. Dodge 2012? I think yes.

Nancy- I don't remember our pinto grunting, but I was young and naive and probably thought all cars sounded like that. I don't remember it bursting into flames, which I am glad of. ;-)

Sam Braden said...

Love your confessions!
And yes, I forgive you. Haha.
No, sorry.
Thank you very much for your muse and inspiration!

Anonymous said...

I confess whenever I enter a Borders or other record store, I always place a Dixie Chicks CD over Toby Keith, and face Olbermann over O'Reilly, and
Clinton over Coulter.
Paul David Adkins

Kells said...

Sam-- Thanks!

Paul-- I love it! BTW, we listened to the Dixie Chicks "Wide Open Spaces" the whole ride to a dude ranch in Montana.

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