And being pretty ok with that

Hitchhiking out to a minimum security state prison farm at the age of 16 to neck with an inmate and smuggle pot into him. Wrong.

Stealing cash out of the purses of secretaries at the county office building where I worked in maintenance. Wrong.

Playing the game “I hit you hard and then you hit me soft” with my little sister. Wrong.

Pinching old man Marty’s Demoral and letting my partner take the blame. Wrong.

Destroying an apartment after finding out a boyfriend was out at a picnic with someone else. Wrong.

Getting dogs and not taking proper care to train them and keep them safe. Wrong.

Lying to the counselors after smoking pot on a church work tour outing to New England. Wrong.

Shoplifting. Wrong.

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Courtesy of Openclipart-Vectors

All of the above and a laundry list more that we don’t need to unload here and now were WRONG. And I did every one of them.

I sure would give a lot to go back and right those wrongs. And, in fact, I have been given the incredible opportunity to at least make amends for a bunch of them. Plus I don’t do that shit anymore.

But then there’s wrong.

Getting married in a mini-van in Reno in a drive thru wedding chapel. Wrong (but a lot of fun).

Being really relieved and grateful that I never had kids. Wrong.

Busting my ass to get into an Ivy League school at the age of 42 so I could accumulate enough student loan debt to have bought two Cadillac Escalades. Wrong.

Marrying the gorgeous queer man I met at a sex party and with whom I was having the best sex ever before knowing his last name. Wrong (see above, re: Reno).

Moving to New York City in my 40’s, knowing no one and not having a job waiting. Wrong.

Earning a BA in Literature Writing at said Ivy League school so I could work part time and write stories. Wrong.

Never getting a driver’s license or wanting one. Wrong.

Telling a room full of fellow writing students (again at said Ivy League school) that I don’t like kids or dogs. Wrong.

Aggressively saving up money for a trip to Spain in May and to get back out to Burning Man in August instead of putting into a retirement savings account. Wrong.

Pushing back when a street person tried to shove her way into our building. Wrong…….really wrong.

Being a sex worker. Wrong.

You see where I’m going here, right? There’s a whole lot of “wrong” in this world according to certain arbiters of behavior. If you find yourself shaking your head, as I do, over laws that penalize more than protect and societal mores that resemble clucking old gossips, check this book out:

And, I’m really curious here. What are your wrongs? Oh, come on, you’re among friends.

Thanks for reading.

© Remington Write 2019. All Rights Reserved

Written by

Writing because I can’t not write. Twitter: @RemingtonWrite or Email me at:

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