meaner mini mes

gosh, I am a nice person.really, more than I sometimes post.

My friends say I take the high road, provide largesse when thwarted. I do my best and so many love me. I thank them.

But who is this harpie who swears all over the blog? Where does SHE come from?

I have been told that people who talk out loud to themselves do because they do not have enough external stimulation. Hit your food, shout ouch and go on. Or, damn, and go on. but in writing, why do I use the word fuck so much? Because I live alone so much?

I think it is in part the good girl, bad girl syndrome. Be good, but underneath it all is red underwear, black bras and really, an invisible set of tatoos. ( too bored to really get one, hell, I get tired of my glasses) No whips thank you mamm, but a firm grip does wonders for me, alternating with caresses. Shit, it comes back to sex. There I go again, another obscenity.

But wait! there's more! What if these aren't really obscenities but truly Schwartzenegger words? Pumped up on steroid words that I cannot, in polite company, or as a public employee say in public? Linen shirt outsides, haircloth and sack ashes inside. Hmmm, "Honey I love you", and inside, "Who in the Hell do you think you are?"

Is it duplicitous or a release? I think the latter.

I AM nice. And, I have a naughty, highly critical, dyseptic, misanthropic side that I generally try to keep to myself. Unless; reading murder mysteries, which are really happily cathartic, kill the son of a bitch. Or, forget the cuisinart, just wack the hell out of the garlic, and throw it in the hot oil like a cannibal cooking in a chef coat.

I have two women friends who swear. One, a blue blood Eastern Jewess, Sarah Lawrence hippie of indeterminate age ;except she was driving her kids in the van across Afghanistan when I was just starting college. "Fuck this and that", I love her for her forthrightness and what I imagine Katherine Hepburn to be if she had not had Spence but a wok instead. The other, a true brilliantly neurotic woman; now running a B and B in Eastern Oregon. A Berkley graduate in comparative literature who taught in Ethiopia. I see a similarity here. And, they both speak their mind, sometimes uncomfortably so. And they love me, I can count on them to speak truth.

So, maybe I am not a crank, but similar in a way, I would sooner take you out than feed you if you crossed me about my daughter. I would defend you to the death, truly, if you loved me and needed help. And, muzzled in the daily world of my teaching, I can express myself in words which sometimes surprise me in intensity, and obscenity. The chipotle of words, obscenities, but if overused they flood the palate and ear with too much. So I will go sotto voice darn it, because truly I am not that cranky at all. Just a veneer, a charcoaled marshmallow over the fire and sweet gooey insides to suck out. gosh darn it, gee whiz, and pretty please, just read through to the soft bits.