I prefer the written word one hundred thousand times more than the spoken word. This is one of the many reasons why I am a writer, and not a public speaker.
When I write, I have all the time in the world to think about what I want to say, and then say it in an intelligent and insightful way.
Well, with any luck, anyway.
But talking? I have no ability to filter what comes out of my mouth. Granted, I can usually prevent myself from saying mean or wildly inappropriate things. I'm not a derelict. It's just that I usually don't think things through well enough before I say them, and as a result, I just word vomit all over the place.
Which brings me to my story of the day...
In English last week, we were talking about the Canterbury Tales. In case you were wondering, they are dreadfully boring except when Chaucer throws in some innuendo. And then they are mildly entertaining in an at-least-this-story's-better-than-it-was-two-minutes-ago kind of way.
Our teacher was talking about how all of the Canterbury Tales have an off-color aspect to them.
"I don't mean just sex, but other gross things," she said.
Now, as I've mentioned in this blog before, I don't believe in premarital sex. Anyone who knows me or Boyfriend knows that. We're not shy about sharing that. Sometimes I make jokes about how having sex can kill you or what have you. So I thought it would infinitely funny to say something along the lines of that to one of my friends sitting next to me, who can appreciate a good sex-related joke.
"But sex is gross!" I said to her.
Only I said it about ten times louder than I wanted to. So loud in fact, that the entire room heard me. Several people asked who had said it because, after all, I am the quiet girl who sits in the back (see above word vomit comments), and they didn't expect me to burst out about the evils of sex.
Luckily, my English teacher can appreciate slightly inappropriate humor, and even had an assignment where we had to write our own Canterbury Tale, preferably with innuendo. (I might post mine later. It's about the party store during the Halloween rush, and a defiled fat-suit stripper costume. We'll see. Let me know if there's any interest.)
All she said was,
"Okay. Sex is gross."
The thing that gets met the most is that I should know better than to talk. Nothing good has ever come from me talking. Especially since the incident in Statistics class when we had to figure out what percent of parents during some obscure year from an outdated text book were married, no longer married, or never married. Naturally, instead of just keeping my mouth shut, I yelled out incredulously,
"But you can't have babies if you're not married!"
To which the teacher said,
"You'd be surprised how many people do, Susan."
Then my friend had to inform her that I was only kidding. Ironically, the same friend who I was trying to whisper "sex is gross" to.
I blame her entirely.
I used to be really shy and had pretty close to no self-esteem. Obviously, I'm happy to be away from that now, and in a place where I'm at least comfortable with myself. But the whole not talking thing I had going on back then? I may have to think about returning to that.
Oh, the shame.
Song of the Day:
"So you feel everything and everything should be all that you wanted. Stay with me. I'm in no condition to be alone." - Howie Day, "Brace Yourself"