Bliggle!

I believe that using foul language in many situations to be utterly inappropriate. In a classroon, at a public-service job, in a family-friendly website...such situations are simply not places for swearing. That being said - I curse like a sailor. Not in these specific situations, but with friends, by myself - I have the mouth of a stevedore. Name it, I've said it, likely in several languages. And, used descriptive gestures as appropriate. Most would not guess this about me. I do not write this way, and with people with whom I do not have a "friend" relationship, I do not speak this way. But put me around and in the familiar - watch out.

I do not know why this is the case. I did not grow up in a house where foul language was used. My school friends were not potty-mouths. At some point, though, during college, I started to evince a greater tendency to use profanity than before. Not that it is a gratuitous thing - it is not part of my normal discourse (as it has become with many of the modern generation), but I do not censor myself when a vulgarity could emphasize my point in a conversation. I do not stop to think of a kinder word, something gentler on the listener's ears. The expletive blurts forth with unabashed glee. I find that I cannot write that way, however. When I write, these words do not even enter my brain. My writing is like a simple transcription of my inner dialogue and I find it interesting that my brain does not even think these words during this period.

Actually, I don't think in swears at all. When my brain is having its personal scizophrenic conversations, swer words are not part of the vocabulary. It is only when my mouth is engaged that these words are manifest. And, I cannot claim peer influence. I swear like a drunken pirate when I speak aloud to myself (which is distressingly often). My internal conversation is papally clean; when my mouth opens it degenerates immediately. Some nervous stimulation generated by mouth movement causes the cussin' control center to kick in to action. Out comes the 4-letter fiends against which polite society rails.

As a schoolteacher, this of course, is a dangerous situation. My mouth is engaged continuously and this keeps the vulgarity-demon ready to destroy my repuration as a cultured woman. I find, though, that another control-center - the upright schoolmarm nerve nexus - is also functional while I am in the confines of my school building and it seems to exert negative feedback on the cussin' center. The more "schoolish" the situation, the more the schoolmarm nexus governs my actions and the less the effect of the cussin' center. The less "schoolish" the situation, such as in the teacher's room, the weaker the schoolmarm influence and the greater the profanity pathway effect. It is not a conscious effort, either. I can almost feel myself shifting gears automatically as I move between locations and sceanrios within my building.

In professtional situations or when convesing on the phone with people I do not know personally, my language is most pristine. I am very polite, very cheerful and utterly clean of tongue. Step outside the door to meet friends waiting in the car and the dam breaks. Again, uncouscious in act, but observal in its reality. I must admit, though, that I do not always self-censor in the presence of small children. First off, they often frustrate me to the point where all of my more polite controls go into overload. Secondly, I do not see small children in any professional venue. They are in my house, in my car, etc. They fall into that category of "friends." I do try not to use any of the true eye-watering expletive examples, but the minor offenders will often slip through my lips.

I have a robust vocabulary. I have a solid education in both the sciences and the arts. I am well-read. I have a keen mind. And I cuss like a truck-stop trollop. I suspect that every individual has a personality anomaly. Adds color to the character. Ain't life a #@$&*% wonderful thing!