A true lady doesn't swear -

She sure as hell can, goddamnit.

This was what i was told when i was 12, and not that i needed any encouraging, but this made me wanna swear all the time as loud as possible. I was never the 8th grader that said "Yeah, well that suck-- i mean, uh, that f*cking sucks." Oh, no. I could turn an obscenity with eloquence and grace.

My Science teacher had a sign that said "Swearing is the crutch of the English language." I always thought that meant he didn't like swearing, but then the mug that held the scientific rulers had the Play-boy bunny etched on its side and i decided the phrase was encouraging us to swear.

Of course, junior high wasn't where it all started. Oh, no. Picture me as a 4-year-old:
"Daddy, can i ask you a question?"
"Of course you can, you can always ask me anything."
[Pause]
"Is Jesus-f*cking-Christ a bad word?"
[Astonished pause]
"Yeah, yeah. That's a bad one. Let's not use that one."
"Okay."

I do feel swearing is a freedom & a hard-earned right of speech. I also think there is a time & place. Such as one shouldn't swear around children (i'm so guilty, even though i censor! i try very hard to censor. i often get 2/3rds of the word out & then clasp my mouth shut). The workplace is fine for the occasional, well deserved swear but on a whole not a good idea. Church, also not wise (but kinda funny, sorry).

Now, y'all probably think i'm a big potty mouth. And i don't think i am, i hope not. i'm a thoughtful and particular user of the English language's crass offerings. i am a fan of phrases that require hyphens.

All that said, take a peek at the Swear Jar.

cell phones + public restrooms = not okay

There has got to be a way to stop this insanity.

You know what i'm talking about: People on their cell phones in public restrooms. What the hell?

Now, i don't know if this is a female-only phenomenon (guys?), but honestly, is the call that important that you can't take 2 minutes to pee sans ear piece chirping?

And again, i don't care what you do at home, that's everyone's choice, but in public?

And you may be thinking, "i don't see this really as a problem, christine. i don't know what public restrooms you frequent, but...." Well, you don't work where i work, 'cause where does this happen the most? for me, in the work bathroom. At least twice a week i'm popping-a-squat while someone is yakking on the phone.
Delightful.
i'm going to print signs & post them in the loos, i swear.

So ladies, please, hang-up the goddamn phone, please. Thank you.

Original? Or maybe not so much

So i have this fantastic pal who thinks i am way hipper than i actually am (i mean leaps&bounds here, people). He sends me fashionista gossip (i can barely pronounce most of the designer's names), updates to avant garde film fêtes and then the occasional piece of relatable, tangible news that is suited for moi. (and by no means, stop sending me these things! They seriously make me feel hip just to think that someone even imagines i get this stuff! in short, it is excellent for my ego.)

Okay, so i've set the tone? yes. So the other day i get this piece of fun in my inbox & immediately think, "oh, boy!" as in wonderment i connect to this winsome link.

And voilà i am--
i'm relating! i actually am relat--, oh, wait i'm relating too much. stop! stop readin', christine. Noooooooooooooo.

This site is amazing. it's a blog all on "stuff white people like" [click on that title now, if you missed the 'winsome link' clue earlier.] and it is dead-on, balls accurate-- to quote the only watchable Marisa Tomei film.

Outta the 87 or so items on this list, i can honestly say all but about a dozen or so of them do not apply to me. And when i got home tonight & i was thinking about The List & me & bloggin' about it, i started to feel a wee bit, well, okay a lotta bit, gulp, generic. Now i'm not a true child of the 80s (i wasn't double digits in that decade, really), i don't hate my parents & i didn't know what Duran Duran was until i was 14-15 years old (Ordinary World!). Most certainly not a generation Xer. i have always kinda thought of myself as different & unique. Which I am, no one can take that away from me! --but not for the reasons i sorta thought made me stand-behind that statement.

Now this is not a pity-party, no sir! But me, myself, the one i've worked hard on constantly, seems a bit run-o'-the-mill, weak-sauce, unoriginal.

BUT at the same, exact time I feel a-part of something. I know, mushy-ickyness, but seriously. I've always marveled at the amazing peeps i've surrounded myself with & soak in their cultures, lifestyles & histories and have been a tad envious. i've contented myself since i was a young kid that my traditions were familial, based within my close-knit, lovely fam, not time-honored customs with origins based on other continents.

But guess what? i've been deeply fooling myself; i've been part of something all along. Ding, ding, can we say denial?! Now this 'something' has certainly not always been great and definitely has a past & present that needs some major rectifying but hey, i'm white (aka self-dubbed american mutt), and there are bunches of us. And it took a smart, funny blog to make me realize the motivations for a lot of the things i do are rooted in my american heritage.

So on that note, i'm so moving to Canada.

Falling for the right type...or not

What does that even mean? i know we have control over our little universes, but when feelings & brain are at odds, what is a girl [or boy] to do?


I mean, i know my past boy-pals have been wrong for me. And yet there is this patteren where the outward packaging differs from each past example, yet underneath it all they have all been the same, and i've known from the start; not right for me.


So here is to breaking the patterns of bad decisions; time to make some NEW bad decisions. YES! Who is with me?


Right, mr. rice?


Or you can sit on chimneys
Put some fire up your ass
No need to know what you're doing or waiting for


Coconut Skins ~