You might not realize this from reading my blog, but I swear a lot. Ten years of single-sex education does that to a girl. After all, there's no point in acting all dainty around other girls, so we let it rip, and by senior year, a lot of us could make a sailor blush.
Now, I try to behave myself. And I often succeed. I tend not to say "fuck" or "shit" around children, or old ladies, or ladies-who-lunch, or people at screenings of Lady and the Tramp, or My Fair Lady, or while someone is whistling "Luck Be a Lady, " or ... well, you get the point. Lady Be Good; that's me.
The thing is, there's a time and place for swearing. And the older I get, the more I realize that not only is this not the time, this is also not the place.
Now this afternoon I'm running a committee meeting. It's for a fundraiser that will take place next June. And the meeting will be at a ladies' club, and the committee, mostly ladies, but also some gentlemen, will be behaving in a nice, civilized fashion. Imagine my chagrin. I mean, someone will say "Oh, good news--I've secured a free week in a palazzo on the Grand Canal in Venice, plus round-trip airfare from Chicago--would you like to add that to the live auction?" My natural response would be:
but I'm much more likely to say something like:
Oh, that would be just lovely. Thanks so much!
So please indulge me while I get a few swears out of my system.
1) I read two excellent editorials this morning in the Chicago Tribune. Really excellent. This one was the shit. Worth registering for, in case you have to do it. (BTW I'm a leftie, so proceed with caution.)
2) Excuse me? What's with all the fucking rain? Does Mother Nature want Poppy to become mildewed?
3) Oh my God, I totally need to get my roots taken care of; I look like shit!
There. That was fucking lovely. Thanks so much!