Tuesday, May 17, 2005


Anonymous, all I can do is think about you. I'm infatuated with your translucent eyes, your fine, fine hair. Anonymous, your name slips silently through my lips as I try to sleep, yet think only thoughts of your ghostly ways. Anonymous, I love you.

All I've been doing for the past few days is reading the anonymous confessions thread on the Oberlin LiveJournal. Five thousand burning admissions later, it's been continued over here.

It's fascinating because I know some of the people being discussed. It's fascinating because I hold out hope I'll find my name attached to a horrifically romantic excretion of love. It's fascinating in its sheer number of posts, and it's fascinating that so many people have jumped at the chance to confess something they never would've uttered had their name been attached to it.

But what's most fascinating is that people only want tell a secret about one of two things:

1. Love.
2. Flatulence.

It seems these are the great taboos left in our society. Unrequited attraction for another, and stinking up your roommate's territory. Ninety percent of that thread is:

Dear _____, I love you so much I can't control it. Seeing the back of your neck in philosophy class makes my heart quiver and my loins also quiver, but more so, and in a less metaphorical way. Please, please, please turn around one of these days and say hi. I love you, philosphy girl.

follwed by:

That one time after dinner I wasn't trying to blow you off I just really had to fart and I didn't want to do it in front of you and now I think you think I hate you, but I don't. It's my bowels I hate.

In the spirit of coming clean, I'll freely admit the following:

1. I am wearing stupid pants today. I know this, I have come to terms with this, and I hope it will convince me to finally do laundry.
2. Someone just called me at work who had a good telephone voice, and I googled him to see if he was cute.
3. I will not buy something from the vending machine if someone else is looking. It embarasses me, and I don't know why.

I recommend everyone reading 'fess up to something in the comments section. You don't have to sign it, of course. Do it anonymously. I'll even make encouraging comments* about how much I admire your candor.

*By which I mean snarky retorts.


Anonymous not brad said...

one time i peed into my friend kathy's cherry coke and she didn't notice.

12:48 PM  
Anonymous NotWhatsHerFace said...

Good. I hate that bitch.

12:52 PM  
Blogger joslik said...

Try this http://postsecret.blogspot.com/ if you haven't seen it already. Lots of secrets for the illustrious Kathy to enjoy...


1:06 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

I know, I love that site! But they only update once a week. I need a constant flow of classified information to be happy.


1:09 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I once made a number 2 in my pants comming home with my baby boy. It was all over the place, but I cleaned up before my husband came home. Talk about an embaressing moment!

And it wasn't about flatulens.... ;)

And I'm like writing from Copenhagen, if you have heard of it. We have a queen, too.

1:29 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

God bless the Danish.

1:34 PM  
Anonymous not DMo said...

Dear Flatulence,

I love you so much and I just can’t control it -- or you, for that matter. You make my loins, bowels and sometimes, even the seat, quiver. Nay, you make them shake uproariously, as if Jack’s beanstalk were rising from the earth and parting the land.

Sure, there have been girls that don’t appreciate you the way that I do, but it is you that I love, Flatulence, not them. Screw those jealous bitches if they can’t deal with the time we spend together -- in my sub-compact car, the elevator, my sleeping bag and within other enclosed areas.

I am always so pleased when you quietly sneak into the room and swiftly pull an attractive girl away from me ending a potential make-out session. I vow to forever boycott products such as these in hopes that you and I may be together 4Eva. Please, please, please turn around one of these days and say hi.

1:34 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

From flatulence-filter.com: "Our seat cushion has been tested by a team of scientists..."

I take it back. I don't have the worst job in the world.

1:52 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

once i dreamt i wrestled with my baby boy on a rooftop and watched in horror as he tumbled over. someday, if i can ever 'fess in person, i'd like to know what that dream meant.

3:28 PM  
Blogger JMH said...

I have the handwriting and bladder of a 5 year old. I don't know how much of a secret that is though, as no one (sometimes not even myself) can read my writing and I spend half the day walking back and forth to the restroom.

4:27 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i have a neurotic tendency to attach significance to the number 111 (for example, to find certain quotes particulary meaningful on page 111 of books). this was the street number of someone i loved when i was sixteen. i'm twenty four and in love and in cahoots with someone else, but cant shake the numerical myth-making. which troubles me.

10:17 AM  

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