I was probably in third grade when my teacher very delicately told me I had “diarrhea of the mouth.”
And looking back on it, I realize she had a point. I’ve always talked a lot and if I hear my mom say one more time, “Think before you speak!” I’ll probably staple my mouth shut.
OK. So maybe I won’t do that.
Though it would be a fairly effective means of weight control. But then again, how the heck am I supposed to eat bacon with my lips stapled together. And then there’s always the whole pain factor and infection.
I had a friend back in college who was into all things piercing related and she used to always tell me the mouth is one of the diciest places to get a piercing due to the high rate of infection.
Hello, ADD tangent. How are you tonight?
Point. Where the heck did I put the point of this whole thing?
So I’m doing this super secret-hasn’t launched yet-but it’s not really that secret internet thing [that doesn’t require me to take off my clothes] and I’ve started spending a good deal of time on Skype talking with the fabulous women who are also participating in this “thing” – because I’m not going to type all that out again. It makes my brain hurt trying to figure out where to put the dashes.
There’s this one chick – and I won’t use her name or link to her because I don’t want her to shoot me – who is hella cool and she’s got a great sense of humor. Basically, I want her to be my BFF but not in a “It rubs the lotion on its skin” kind of way.
For some reason, I clicked on her Skype profile since I was curious about her age. Who knows why I did it since I’ve never really cared about someone’s age. But, I did it anyway.
And she’s a few years older than me. But she doesn’t act older. And that’s not to say she’s immature…she’s just fun and not what I expect out of someone her age.
I’m trying REALLY hard not to dig my proverbial grave any deeper because what I did next, when coupled with that last sentence just kind of puts more proverbial nails in my proverbial coffin in my proverbial grave and stuff.
So I said to her – in a room full of women on Skype, mind you – “This is completely not going to come out right, but [cool lady], when I’m your age, I hope I’m just like you.”
And I knew the second I typed those words – especially since they were prefaced with “This is completely not going to come out right…” – that my itty-bitty internal filter had failed me yet again. What I should really do is type this stuff and then hit the backspace button and delete it all. That way, my brain thinks I said it, but, I manage to keep myself from looking like too much of an ass.
It’s all about brain trickery. You gotta sneak up on it.
Because, really? If someone said that to me when I’m her age, or even now for that matter, I would have gotten the head waggle thing going on and been all like “OH NO SHE DIDN’T!”
You see, I have this issue with age.
I also have a sneaking suspicion that thirty is going to be absolutely freaking hell on me. I worry too much about losing myself in the day-to-day riggers of life and when I see someone who’s older than me, but who I still consider “cool”, it gives me hope that I’m not going to end up in a muumuu and watching Maury.
Though I have heard muumuu’s are extremely comfortable and can you ever really ever get too much of “Who’s her baby’s daddy?”
I think not.
Mind you, she took it with grace and when I appologized privately about being an ass, she didn’t seem too broken up about it. Which made me feel better.
Internal filter, why must you fail me yet again?!