Funny thing has been weighing on my mind lately. It’s the issue of swearing. OK, wait, that’s not the funny part. The funny part is that I have been struggling with the dilemna of swearing in my posts and had been considering writing about it and then good ol’ Fuzzbox happened to mention it, too. See, back in the day when I started this blog I was all excited to have a medium where I could swear like a fucking son of a bitch. Because it really is my natural inclination to swear more than not. I may be one of those chicks who goes to afternoon tea, and always has a purse, and have been told I have an “innocent” face (whatever that fucking means) but I can extensively and enthusiastically curse. One of my girlfriends once called me her “potty-mouth tea friend”. However, through the years of academic interviews, dinners with in-laws, and professional employment, not to mention the fact that many of my friends started having kids before I did, I had learned to curb the naughty mouth until it almost didn’t exist anymore. I figure it’s just something you don’t want to do around the kids. My own included.
(Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not so crass as to be someone who uses shit, fuck, or damn every other word, just for the sake of saying shit, fuck, or damn. But I do think there is a proper time for everything and that includes cuss words. Such as… when a strong emphasis is needed or just for the pure enjoyment of swearing. Life is short, damnit.)
So when I started this blog I thought, “Cool shit, sailor, you get to whip open the fucking pants and let them fly!!” I thought this is the place I can swear again. The kid doesn’t have to hear it, the in-laws don’t have to hear it, no one I work with has to hear it (except for the Sales department – I think it’s required in there), I am good to GO! But another funny thing happened. Once I started typing swear words, they started creeping back into my everyday speech.
See it seems my brain only has two modes, swear like a sailor or good mommy, and these two modes affect all functions (writing, talking, conversing with strangers). I couldn’t swear in one place without swearing in another. If you notice I kind of go back and forth on this blog. Some days I swear a lot, then comes a dry spell, and then the cycle renews. I still WANT to curse, I just don’t want to do it around my son. Once I start catching myself doing it around my son, i.e. “Man, that Dora is a fucking tool,” then I cut out writing the curse words, too.
Poor Fuzzbox was under the impression that I don’t swear at all. So sadly untrue. And especially if I get worked up I have a hard time holding back. But I rarely swear on other people’s blog’s comments. ‘Cause even though you are all more than welcome to swear in my comments if you’d like (go ahead, I DON’T mind), I just think it’s kind of rude to do it in other people’s houses. Ya know? - the weirdgirl
P.S. One of my favorite curse-able expressions (not that I ever got to work it into conversation): If the streets were lined with dicks your mother would be walking on her ass.