My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Big City Trashmouth Mouths Off

Thatís the nickname my husband gave me years ago Ė Big City Trashmouth Ė because of my penchant for cursing. Itís one of the things I havenít been able to curb even now that Iím surrounded by ďlittle pitchers.Ē I do try to keep my mouth shut while driving with Dusty in the car because hereís a conversation I DONíT want to have:

Dusty: Mommy, whatís motherfucker?
Me: Nothing, nevermind. Forget I said anything.
Dusty: Whatís ĎChrist on the half shell?í
Me: Donít say that, please.
Dusty: You said it.
Me: Yeah, well, Mommyís got a foul mouth and thereís no hope for her.

Let me just reiterate that the above conversation has never occurred and, hopefully, never will. I now save those choice terms for when Iíve got Red in the car and some big-eared eighty year old goober insists on driving 20 miles UNDER the posted speed limit on a sunny day. On a dry road. And, god help you if a flake of snow [and what the hell, I ask you, is with all this damn snow and sleet and just overall gray nastiness? This is Virginia, for godís sake!] or a drop of rain should fall.

The worst thatís so far come of my inability to control my mouth has been Dustyís exclaiming, ďDammit!Ē which Iíve tried to ask her not to say but she knows a hypocrite when she hears one. Itís a fine line. Or maybe itís a fat one. I donít know.

But, while Iím on the topic of cussing, and since Iíve got nothing to write about, here is a list of things that piss me off or otherwise drive me crazy:

1. People asking me personal questions (examples below).

2. The sound of someone: chewing gum, flossing, doing that snorting-in of phlegm down his throat instead of just getting a damn Kleenex and blowing his nose, whistling (the horror), clicking his dentures.

3. People coming to a complete stop before making a right turn.

4. Drivers who: talk on their cell phones, donít understand how to use turn signals, dump their full ashtrays in parking lots, throw their goddamn butts out the window (Iíve had one come into my window before and burn a hole in my seat!) like the world is their personal trash can, do pretty much anything other than paying attention to the road and going at least the posted speed limit. Five mph over the limit would be nice. Just a suggestion.

5. People who get upset that I donít dress my baby in gender-appropriate clothes so THEY will know ďwhat she is.Ē I know what she is: my own personal child. If you wish to admire my child, feel free, but donít say, ďIs it a girl or a boy, I canít tell by the clothing.Ē Fuck off (see how well I meet the demands of my nickname?).

6. People who are constantly late.

7. People who do not return phone calls. Especially workmen or companies youíre trying to hire to do a ďjob of work.Ē Do you not need the business? Then, why donít you just put that on your voicemail message: ďYouíve reached XYZ plumbers. Sorry weíre not able to take your call right now but weíve got plenty of clients already and donít need you. Call someone else or take a vo-tech class and learn how to install a toilet by yourself.Ē Common courtesy is all Iím asking for here.

8. Virginia Legislators wasting my tax dollars arguing bills about what teenagers are wearing, putting prayer back in public schools (oooh, do not get me started on this one), keeping ďgaysĒ from adopting children or being considered citizens at all, and anesthetizing fetuses prior to abortion (my blood pressure is rising...I better stop). And, they donít actually expect these things to pass, itís just political-fucking-posturing!

9. The person at work who asks me, when she sees me cleaning the parts of my breast pump, ďAre you still doing that?Ē Um, Redís only eight months old and I plan to breast feed her until she weans herself and that means, yes, I still pump two or three times a day at work. If for no other reason than itís free. Have you seen what formula costs? Christ on the half shell!

10. My own mind. Last night I had a dream that I found out (through someone at work, of all things Ė these two worlds rarely collide) that my husband planned to go to Australia with friends over spring break (heís a college instructor; they get things like spring breaks) and hadnít bothered to tell me. Much less invite me to go along. I was still pissed off when I woke up! And then I realized it was a dream. Duh.

Well, Iím certainly in a mood today arenít I? Iím sure Iíll be better when the weather improves. And when Red can be bothered to sleep through the night. At least itís finally March.


10:02 a.m. ::
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