Grumpy and Tired

Put the word “cunt” in your opening sentence and you’re bound to have a higher percentage of readers driven to the second. Just one of the many things I’ve learned in my current writing class.

I love it. My class. I do. I love the art on the walls, and the big red velvet chair, and the silver colored die on the table next to all the other dice, and most of all, I love the people I’m meeting there. All but one. Okay. I love all but a few, to be exact. I like most of the few that I don’t love; but there’s one fellow student whose work I dread hearing from week to week. I mean, like, if I saw her at a cocktail party, I’d drop a plate to avoid talking to her. Just because she’s that annoying. Sweet enough. But. . . well . . .

They all have this fucking blog address, too, my classmates. So it’s highly inappropriate and stupid to even be blogging this way. But, you know what? I’m a whore for words. I am. Not to mention the fact that, as liars go, I’ve got a penchant for tactlessly spewing the truth, or, if not the truth with a capital T, then at least my point-of-view at any given moment (subject to change, of course). Plus, NEWSFLASH, most people don’t read this blog.

Besides blogging inappropriately and stupidly, I’m breaking an important rule, too. Another writing teacher of mine proclaimed to her class years ago something like, “Above all, write with a generous heart.” Such good guidance. But I’ve always had a rule-breaking streak in my heart. No, not heart, scratch that, that’s cliche. My cunt? Gross. I’ve always had a rule breaking streak in my boots. My spleen. My molars. My taste buds. My right fist. Or, how about the balls of my feet? All of the above?

One point of clarification: IF this blog is read by the woman who actually used the word “cunt” in her piece in class tonight, she should know that she’s not the individual whose work and presence bothers me. I say this, because from the limited conversations I’ve had with her (the woman who used “cunt” in her opening line) she might wonder about that. And I would want her to know what I’ll probably tell her at some point, “You’re fabulous!” If one of us doesn’t die first. Because that happens.

It does.

In the meantime, though, before the conversations I hope to have, before one or all of us dies, before I say the c-word one more time, right now, there will be sleep. For me.

Grumpy & Tired Word Whore signing off.

 

6 thoughts on “Grumpy and Tired

  1. Darling Roo, I have missed you!! I read your blog!! But I guess I could be no one… :P j/k
    Here’s that snarky, fiery side that has been hidden for too long. I owe you an email.
    To be honest, nothing much has changed and I hate admitting that so I hate writing update emails. I think you may be able to empathize with this, albeit for a completely different reason. Nonetheless, I have not given up the fight and I see neither have you.
    I think one day we will meet and it will be like embracing a good friend after a long absence, even though we will have never met before. Well, in fantasy world anyway. Wow! Was that a bit creepy? You know I mean it with the utmost respect and not in the stalkerish way at all! :P
    I’d love to read some of what you have been working on.
    I truly hope you are well!
    xoxo – S.

    1. Aw, S! Thank you! I’m so behind on my blog reading. You’ve been writing up a storm. Looking forward to catching up. Big hug.

  2. The best way to destroy the shock value of a word seems to be to use it. As a youngster, saying “shit” was enough to get you the Cane. “Fuck” was only permitted on Australian TV after children’s official bedtime and earned a movie an automatic “Adults only” rating.
    “Motherfucker” was an unforgivable insult until pop culture turned it into a compliment ” You crazy MF”
    I have noticed an increase in the usage of “Cunt” for shock value. “Game of Thrones” and “Shameless” are wearing the word out rapidly. Soon we must move on to achieve shock value. Are there any or have we reached the end of the road?

    1. Yes, “cunt’ is losing its power. Can even be rather charming if the right person utters it in the right context.

      There will have to be new words to shock in the future, I just can’t imagine what they will be.

      Not highly inflammatory, but couple nights ago in writing class, we had a discussion of “snatch” — would a woman say it of her own body part in her private diary? I proposed that some women might (good heavens, not me! :) ;) ) , but I lost the debate.

      . . . Oh words. I love them.

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