1. Sometimes I come up with good ideas….

Like the Bitch Box. Or the Soul Note. Or the #getintuit (which is free intuitive advice delivered in 140 characters or less on twitter). Or the Intuitive Cupcake (which is very affordable intuitive advice delivered by email, once a year, but not right now).

2. Sometimes I steal good ideas…

Like this list. This list idea originally came from Lisa Sonora Beam. It’s also been done well by: Jolie Guillebeau, Havi Brooks and others who I am now forgetting, but who are important too.

It’s supposed to be a list of things that you’re too shy to share, so you put yourself out there. I’m not sure if this list does that. I am only somewhat shy.

3. I like funny stuff.

Like Marcel the Shell or Bat by Remi Gaillard

4. I am verbose…

My blog posts are too long. Like this one. I have a hard time not writing like I talk. My stories wind around. There are no straight paths here.

Sometimes I think there should be an express lane on my blog posts. Like, push this button and you get to the point. But then I think you won’t read my other words.

I’m complicated like that.

5. All my teeth are sweet…

My grandmother used to say that about her teeth. I love a good sweet, especially a French Macaron.

Also, a huge fan of the Whoopie Pie:

Traditional Maine Whoopie Pies have a marshmallow center, which I would be a fan of, but my favorite bakery, Baker and Spice does one with a whipped cream/marscapone center that is absolutely divine.

If you are in my neighborhood, you could buy some and then walk up the hill to my house. We could sit in my office and swap stories over whoopie pies and tea.

6. My family is crazy and lovely.

We went through some hard times.
My childhood was painful.
The details aren’t for public consumption.
Over time, we found a way to mostly get along with each other.
And I love them very much.

At one time, I would have quoted Anna Karenina, where it reads Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

But I don’t think that’s true anymore. I don’t think there are any families that are happy all the time. All families are happy and unhappy in their own way. Everything is a mixed bag.

7. My last name means “To Pillage”…

It’s French.
And either somebody was so proud of it, or they were so good at it that it stuck as a last name.
Sometimes I imagine Renior paintings where the Pillouds picnic along the Seine with the murderers and prostitutes and petty thieves. There we are. We brought the cheese. Watch out for the broken glass shards.

8. I believe in God…

Yes. The Big “G”. I see him as a big guy with a flowy beard, and a very, bright white robe. He’s funny. He’s got a warm sense of humor. He has a lot of messages of hope and clarity. We talk. Really. A lot.

We talk, mostly before I get up in the morning, and also, often, with clients, in session.

God is unknowable in God’s entirety. So God can come to us as a grandfather or a grandmother, as a goddess, as a child. God can appear as a tree or a glass of milk.

In one of J.D. Salinger’s books, he describes a sister drinking a glass of milk and says, She was pouring God into God.

I like that.

If God is ultimately unknowable, I’m going to resonate with the parts of God that feel most real to me. I was surprised that he was male to me. But warm, funny, busy, alert, focused-yeah, that’s the God I relate to.

9. I don’t believe in the God that some people believe in…

This Guy:—->Oh, hey, I’ll accept you but only if you believe in me and also, don’t be nice to those gay people or the Jews or the Muslims. And by the way, you’re a sinner, and it’s only because I’m merciful that I let you hang around on this blue planet and I might let you into heaven if you behave and also confess all your sins to me and worship me.

What is that about? That’s social control. That’s keeping people feeling bad about themselves. That’s a situation of control and coercion. Where’s God in that?

In fact, I’m really rather pissed off that these people have done a bait-and-switch on God.

Here’s love and mercy, but you have to do what we say, because it says so in the bible right here. Oh that part about not wearing fibers from two different beasts? Oh we skip over that. Yes, some of what we’re asking has nothing to do with love and mercy, but you gotta break some eggs to make an omelet.

And did we mention that we really need your money?

I’m not talking about all churches here. You know the ones I’m talking about. They piss me off. Okay, I’m pissed off now.

This is one reason why I often use the term Spirit when I’m talking about God. Because I don’t want anybody thinking I’m going to bring up the word Sin in a session with me. So many people have been screwed over by organized religion. It breaks my heart.

And yet, I met two nuns this past weekend at my brother’s wedding. My brother is friends with nuns. These two women have given their lives to helping others. They’ve given everything they have to support the people around them, to be, as they would put it, Christ’s loving example on earth.

I think you know what I mean.

10. I also believe in mysteries…

I do not have the answer about why we’re here or where we are going. Perhaps this is just a massive spiritual Easter egg hunt.

I like that.

11. I don’t understand the New Age movement.

Really. I have not read Deepak Chopra or Ram Dass. I don’t believe that this time is more special than any other. I don’t wear crystals.
I don’t care what people do to find their spiritual path. I think the important thing is to find it.
I find that many new age people just want to try new things, instead of finding a path that works for them. That’s why there’s lots of books to buy.
And I can’t cope with the New Agers who feel like they have all the answers. Nobody has all the answers.
Hubris sucks, people.

12. I am non-judgmental about most things

Contrary to #11 and #9, I am pretty non-judgmental.

Life is full of contradiction and there is little that I will get my panties in a wad about.

13. Except when people are petty…

That is:
Marked by narrowness of mind, ideas, or views.
Marked by meanness or lack of generosity, especially in trifling matters.

14. Or treat children or animals badly…

Of Course.

15. Or are narcissists…

Oh sweet lord, I can’t stand narcissism.

16. I worry that I am a narcissist…

You know, that whole thing about how the thing that bugs you in others is the thing you need to work on.
Yes.
This may be why my blog posts are so damn long.

17. I don’t believe the world is ending in 2012

The world ends and begins each day.

18. My thyroid is borked.

It doesn’t work right. So I’m chubby and I get tired a lot and my hair is falling out.

19. I am a twin.

I have a twin brother. His name is Joel. Being a twin complicates one’s childhood, as you always have someone right there to compare yourself to.

Being a twin complicates one’s adulthood too. But it’s okay. I like him. He got married this past weekend, to a lovely woman named Angela.

Here they are.

20. I know what it means to be very poor.

One summer, I had a friend who took me out to eat for lunch every day. I saved half my lunch to give to my two-year-old as his dinner. He got breakfast and lunch at his preschool, which my former mother-in-law paid for. My kid went to his dad’s each weekend.

From my part-time jobs, I had just enough money to pay for my $235 a month rent and $80 utilities and to buy gas for my car.

I was too ashamed to get food stamps. I regret that.

21. I know what it means to fail.

One of the reasons why I had no money that summer was that I took my college loan for living expenses and invested it in a restaurant next to a strip club in downtown Lincoln, Nebraska. It failed.

During one winter, I got divorced, lost my restaurant and failed most of my classes. I was very tired, overwhelmed and thin. I remember talking on the phone with a friend and realizing that I could put my thumb under my rib and pull on my ribcage.

Failure is part of living. So is success. Don’t judge yourself. This too shall pass.

22. My biggest flaw is that I do not ask for help.

I am independent. I don’t know how to ask, and I hate to put people out. I’m working on that.

23. This flaw is congenital.

My parents redid their very huge house by hand by themselves over a period of 12 years. My dad, who is 69, finally broke down and let somebody else re-roof it last summer. My dad hangs ceiling sheetrock by himself, using special tools that he’s developed to hold up one end while he holds up the other.

24. I once received a speeding ticket on my birthday.

The officer said, “Hey, it’s your birthday! Happy Birthday!”
And then he handed me a ticket.

25. I have chickens. They have formed a union.

The leader is named Meg. She is a Buff Orpington (big and blonde and huffy). I am looking for things to give them because they are bored in their enclosure.

26. I will never live in a big house.

See #23

27. I like to tell stories.

A lot. In public.

28. I don’t have a favorite color.

or a favorite flavor of ice cream. I have very few favorites.

29. I like the names of tomato seeds.

like Mortgage Lifter, Moneymaker, Earliosa, Oxheart, and Lushka.

30. I don’t like raw tomatoes.

I want to like them, but I don’t like them.

31. When I think about what cheese is, it icks me out, but I eat it anyway.

I mean, seriously, milk that’s curdled with the stomach of a calf. Feed that to your children. Put it on nachos. People are weird. Yes, I’d like some please.

32. I am from a flat place.

I can hike for miles and miles and miles on the flat. But put a hill in front of me and I cry. There’s a hill in Eastern Oregon that leads to one of the most beautiful lakes. It’s stunning and gorgeous and private and 2 miles on a significant grade up. I cry all the way up to it. It’s worse than childbirth. I do it every year (the hiking, I mean).

33. I like to swim.

Especially in the ocean.

34. I worry that people don’t like me.

This is probably universal.

35. It’s congenital.

I don’t remember not worrying about this.

36. I mean, I know in my brain that people like me.

But sometimes I’m like Sally Field.

37. I am not afraid of my future.

Though saying that makes me wonder if I am putting my neck out.

38. I am a dog person.

But I like cats too. And horses. And pretty much any animal.

39. Sometimes I pretend that I am writing a book called, “You’re Fucking Killing Me.”

In this book, I speak directly to those who cut me off in traffic, make me stand in long lines, make ridiculous political lies or poop in my garage.

I don’t think these are the same people. In fact, I think one of them is a dog. I saw some campaign posters hidden behind the dog food bags.

Each chapter would be something like this:

May 15, 2010-
Dear Douchebag in the convertible mini-cooper who has cranked Sublime to number 11,

You nearly hit my car to keep me from merging. You’re from Oregon, right? That’s what your tags say. In Oregon we merge gracefully, one from each line. It was my turn, you bastard. You’re fucking killing me.

Love, Bridget

P.S. I can see your hair plugs. They look like doll hair.

Pretending that I’m writing this book makes me laugh at how seriously I take myself. Also, I come up with brilliant insults that I don’t actually say out loud, which makes me feel witty and pleased with myself.

I don’t  think or write these about my family or friends. It’s stranger-on-stranger snark. I don’t know how these strangers are getting into my garage! Why would they do that? It’s a mystery.

40. I want to write a real book too.

One that’s useful. I’ve thought about writing about being in the weirdo box. That felt pretty good. I also want to write The Little Book of Bridget. I know I have a book in me. And I hope you’ll want to read it.

Okay, that’s it.

And if you got this far, you deserve a special something.

Tell me something about you?