Adventure, Love, poetry

Let Me

Let me trek the wilderness that is your body,

and toss back and forth on your tempest seas.

I can glide silently in your sunny skies

and run with pounding feet on your sandy shores.

Let me brave the desert of your memories

and scale the mountains that keep you so far away.

Let me find you in your landscape

and build my home in your trees.

  • Stephanie Janecek, 2018

 

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joy, Life, Love, poetry, prose, Uncategorized, Words

A Poem For You on This Day

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Happy Anniversay To My Love.

 

Your Magnificent Body

 

The half moon is your reflection.

Your face is a mirror that shows others what is in their own souls.

Your hands bear the tasks of a thousand ancestors.

Your shoulders hold the weight of unfolding generations.

You ears keep the whispers of uncounted secrets.

Your feet tread the ground of those who were once warriors.

Your arms cradle the hopes of quiet dread.

Your eyes bear witness to the kind and the evil of this place.

Your knees bend with the weight of untold worry.

Your spine is the column that holds the world.

Stephanie Janecek, 2018

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Death, Family, Love, Memory Lane, This is my Soul, Uncategorized

To The Friend Who Broke Up With Me

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Dear Former Friend,

Salutations!

I always laugh when I see that word. It reminds me of you and how funny and witty you are. I miss you, but that, just like my feelings for this Charlotte’s Web themed greeting, is fading.

I had always prided our friendship in the fact that no matter where we went, we always came back to each other. It could be months or years, and we would always pick up, judgement free, and laugh and love like no time had ever passed. I know why you broke up with me, and I don’t blame you. You were sick of chasing me around, trying to pin down a date so you could get me to open up and spill my guts to you. And maybe I needed that. What you didn’t know when you texted me those unnerving words, “I am not going to contact you anymore. I love you….” I was already waist deep in heartache.

It had been unbearable to get out of bed in the mornings, and unbearable to step foot inside the apartment at night. The last few months had been spent tip-toeing through life, afraid to wake the beast of a man who I was once madly in love with.

Part of me wanted to see you so badly. I missed you for years. I missed your stories, and that contagious laughter…. all of our silly gossip. Another part of me did not want you to see me like this; fat and distracted, disgusting in my own skin.

I started writing these words over 3 years ago. It took me that long to be able to say these things to you in a passive blog post that I don’t think you will even see. Maybe I don’t want you to see it. Maybe I don’t want you to know how much it hurt to lose you; how much it still hurts when I go through old pictures of us having a dinner party in my mom’s kitchen or some random night out at a karaoke joint. I am sad to have seen this friendship end. Maybe it was supposed to end. Maybe our time together had run the course.

We were friends a lifetime ago, maybe two. I still think about you often, but I don’t miss you anymore. I hope your life is everything you ever wanted it to be. I hope you are happy. I have made new friends, and I also have old friends. I have friends who I have yet to meet. None of these can replace you and I wouldn’t even try. I know I am not totally healed, but I am very close.

Thank you. Thank you for many years of fun friendship. I am sure we both learned a lot from each other and grew into adults in each others care.

I cherish you. Be well.

xoxo

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Cats, Death, I love cats!, Life, Love, Memory Lane, small joy, Uncategorized

Where There is Life

There is a window in my living room that is full of plants. There are at least 15 plants crammed in or near the only window in the main room of the loft space. It may seem like a lot, but in reality, it’s not nearly enough.

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My cat of 16 years recently died. Well, she didn’t die per se, but I was forced with having to make the choice of giving her back to the universe. That was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. The night before I took her to the vet, I sat with her on the couch and we shared the better part of a rotisserie chicken. She ate until she couldn’t move.

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I sat there with her for some time, thinking about the first night she spent in my care. My boyfriend at the time (BAT) and I wanted cats and had certain criteria: I wanted an all-black cat so I could name it “Mr. T” and he wanted 2 cats so one would never be lonely. It was a Sunday and we had been to countless shelters. No one wanted to adopt to us because we were in college. Around closing time, we found this dumpy little pet store in Shirley, NY and they had some cages with kittens, ready to be adopted free with $20 purchase.

And there they were, these two little scared babies – one all black, the other a mottled grey and cream. They were terrified and scratched me until I bled, but I loved them the minute I saw them.

After spending the obligatory $20, the kitties were packed up and took their very first and only trip ever to Walmart. The little babes were a little scared in their carrier, bumping around in the cart, and stayed huddled and quiet, snuggled together in complete fear. About $200 later, as we finished checking out, the store manager came over and kicked us out for having live animals in the store. Dick.

After loading the stuff in the car and checking on the babes, I see that they have peed all over the carrier. We took them out and put them in the backseat so the carrier could be cleaned. Once all tidy, the kittens were gathered to be put back in, but we could only find one. The fucking horror that ensued after realizing the little grey one was missing was incredible, not even 1 hour after getting these creature, we already lost one.

The Walmart security guard came around with flashlights and helped us look for the kitten. After about an hour, it started to rain and we lost all hope. BAT and I went home a little sad with one scared kitten in tow.

The next morning, BAT came in excited and asked me to go out to the car. There, sitting on the dashboard, was the missing grey kitten. I ran inside to grab the black kitten, affectionately named Mr. T, and put her in the car as if to indicate, “Hey, they’re cool, don’t worry.” Well grey kitty was not having it and started to climb into the steering column, which is apparently where she was hiding when we were in the Walmart parking lot and driving home the night before. I felt so bad – we had to pull her out by her tail.

Eventually, she grew to love us, but always stayed a little skittish, earning her the name Merdok, from the hit 80’s show “The A Team.” Merdok was the crazy one. While I was earning my business degree, I’d sit on the bed cross legged on my bed to study and she’d curl up in the space between my knees. She’d do typical cat things, like try to catch my feet under the blankets when I was asleep or come snuggle in the middle of the night. Merdok was notorious for her head butts and could catch you off guard at any moment with a painful punch to the face with her head.

She was very affectionate and always purring. I woke up one night to her little motor running and her face about 3 inches from mine, asking to get under the covers because the roommate had forgotten to pay the oil bill and we had no heat. She was a very good girl for all 16 years of her life.

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Towards the end, you could tell she was tired. She slept a lot and starting going to the bathroom on laundry, the rug, the couch…. Her eyes were taking on that glazed, cloudy look and despite having a ferocious appetite, she had dwindled to just 4 pounds. After our last night of chicken gluttony, I slept with her on the sofa and turned most of the lights out. She laid right next to my head, as she has always done, and purred. She put her paw on my third eye as I was drifting off to sleep and my brain started to go crazy. It was a very emotional and spiritual moment to share with a cat, and I am still not sure what to make of it.

Moments before we left for the vet the next day, it started to pour. My sweet friend Ebonie agreed to take me, and she stayed with me for most of the vet visit and took pictures that captured my last moments with my old friend. My last minutes were spent telling her how much I loved her and how sorry I was that I had to let her go. I have never had to put a pet down and I wept as they put her into twilight. At that point I saw that she was already gone and I immediately regretted my decision – not because it was the wrong thing to do, but the guilt was overwhelming. My last words to this tiny little creature were “be good,” which are my parting words to the critters when I leave the house every morning for work. I felt it in my soul when the vet techs administered the dose of euthanasia, pronounced her “passed” and quietly hurried from the room.

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Grief does weird things to you – It’s exhausting, and the guilt lingered for days and weeks. Leaving the vet’s office with an empty carrier was a true trial in sadness. I cried spontaneously for a few days, overwhelmed with endless stages of grief. I know Merdok was just a cat, but she was so much more than that to me. She was my companion and confidant. She kept every secret I ever whispered in her little ears. She was unconditional and more genuine that a lot of folks I have met. What I have learned from loss is that life goes on. No matter what, the world keeps on turning and you can’t stay down for too long or life will slip on by.

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As hard as losing a pet is, I am already looking forward to my next critter. Carlos, my little monster, is in dire need of a new friend, and I like having at least two little souls in my home. Today marks the 2 year anniversary of the death of Mr. T, which was a very hard loss for me. I have also designated today as Carlos’ birthday, so I am reminded that the time for mourning has passed, and I must celebrate instead.

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Gandhi once wrote, “Where there is love, there is life.” This is why I keep plants all huddled in the window. I keep them pruned and watered and fed with sunlight, dead leaves, and eggshells. I let the cat chew on them and throw them up. I let life be life. I let life fill my home and my heart because where there is life, there is also love.

 

 

 

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Change, Opinion, Rules To Live By, Save The World, Uncategorized

Revisiting 25 Rules to Live By

This post is originally from September 21, 2013 and has been edited.

Every religion has a list of rules. Christianity has the 10 Commandments, Buddhism has the Eight-Fold Path and the Four Noble Truths, and Islam has 38 Prohibitions. I don’t like to think of these lists as rules, but rather a guideline for how to live life.  If you break the rules down they are pretty much telling you not to steal or cheat or lie or idolize, etc, etc…

Now, I am certainly no moral authority, but I have lived what feels like a million lifetimes already, and have generated a list of rules that I aspire to keep. Sometimes the rules are a struggle, and sometimes they are a joy.

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Rule #1: Be Kind 

Ah, yes! The Golden Rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” It’s pretty much a “DUH” rule, but you would be surprised at how many rude and awful people there are out there. This rule deals with empathy and compassion for others as well as karma for yourself. Of course some people take in a “harm or be harmed” approach to life, which is easy to fall into if you are bitter or overly morose. I find that in my own personal life, this is the easiest and most rewarding rule to follow. I suspect that goes for most of us, unless you’re obtuse, then you’re screwed and so are the rest of us.

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Rule #2: Eat Well

This rule sucks. I love pizza and bagels and cheese, which makes Rule #2 one of the harder rules for me to follow. I do my best, however, to intake life’s yummy pleasures by moderating them and I hardly EVER eat fast food anymore. I have found the more that you eat salad, the more you crave it. Of course if I do eat a salad I tend to offset it with a sprinkle of cheese because that is easy for me to rationalize.

Also, avoid sodas and too much juice. Drink water instead! 80% of your body will be happy while the entire 100% will thank you. I am also a huge advocate for seltzer water. It’s like soda, but it’s also just water with some bubbs.

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RULE #3: No Spitting

This rule is on here because some of y’all need to be reminded not to be gross. A woman sitting on a subway bench got up in front of me as I was about to pass by and spit (like a huge loogie) onto the train tracks. Yeah, just like that. If you do need to spit, be discrete. Pretend it’s a pee that you really need to take and go hide behind a tree or in a corner. Not all up in my face. Thanks.

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Rule #4: Be Generous

It is better to give than receive, yes? Yes! I love Christmas because I get to give people things that I want them to have. Of course, they want me to have socks and other oddities, but I am happy to receive! Of course, I totally one-up them with a handmade picture frame or a sweet ass bonsai tree that is older than I am, or a Groupon to some amazing adventure they didn’t know about. In some ways being generous also makes me feel selfish, since it is my goal to give you a better gift than you give to me. PS – I always need socks, so thank you very much!

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Rule #5: Be Honest

Growing up I was taught that “honesty is the best policy.”  Sadly, it really didn’t matter if I lied or told the truth – I always got in trouble regardless.  I also happen to be an awful liar. At a certain point, I figured if I came clean, then the punishment wouldn’t be so bad. Looking back I realize that lies lead to more lies, and that is just no good in the long run.

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Rule #6: Get a Pet

Pets make life so much better and serve as wonderful companions. They take away stress and anxiety and are faithful friends for as many years as they can carry. HERE is a great article on the benefits of owning a pet.

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Rule #7: Wipe the Seat

If you pee on the seat, wipe it off. People will be more likely not to pee on the seat if it is already clean because then it is safe to sit on. Plus, it’s gross if you don’t, especially if it’s in your own bathroom.

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Image courtesy of Leigh Kosloski.

Rule #8: Write Letters

There are only a few things that are more awesome than receiving a letter in someone’s own handwriting. In this age of technology, it’s acceptable to be informal with email and private messaging. Send a letter every once in a while, it will do good for your soul and brighten someone’s day. You also get to exercise your handwriting skills. When is that last time you wrote in script? Do you even know how to anymore? Why don’t you give it a try and send someone a damn snail mail!

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Rule #9: Cry

It’s okay to cry. It’s actually healthy. A Sad movie or YouTube video can trigger the waterworks, so let it. Don’t hold it in. It will make your brain happy.

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Rule #10: Drink Beer

This is another one of those rules that I have no problem imbibing by (did you see my attempt at a very clever pun?). Beer has nutritional value, and, if indulged in moderation, will have excellent effects to your health and overall mood. Don’t believe me? Check it HERE.

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Rule #11: Bathe Daily

Unless you are camping out in the woods, this should be followed religiously. Do I need to say more?

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Rule #12: Talk to Strangers

Saying Good Morning to a stranger is not only going to make you feel good, but may change the course of someone else’s day.

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Rule #13: Be on Time

If you know me at all then you know that this rule is a constant struggle for me. In recent history I have greatly improved my statistics for being on time, which means showing up exactly at 9:05 am for work, or catching the train or bus needed to get to my hosts in other counties / states at the exact time they expect my arrival. Being on time is important. It shows that you are reliable and diligent.And get a Mickey Mouse watch, because they are awesome.

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Rule #14: Be Fearless

Coach Butler, my High School varsity basketball coach would always tell me “Have ice in your veins.” What a pep talk! I would get back out on the court with the strength and honor of a thousand buffalo. Yay!

Have you ever wondered what is there really to be afraid of? I try to consider my biggest fear to be myself. I really don’t have any idea what we, as humans, are capable of. Fearing the unknown is a trait that has been learned. I once read an article about a woman who has no amygdala (read HERE), which makes her immune to fear. If only we could learn to control the fear “juice” and extend ourselves beyond the unknown, then we would be limitless, and truly fearless. For now I will just settle for my recently improved fear of Spiders. In reality, they aren’t so bad.

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 Rule #15: Try

Another one of my High School mentors was my Chorus teacher, Mr. Roberts. He once gave a short lecture on the word TRY and related it to music as well as life. If you don’t make an effort, then your heart is not really in whatever it is you are doing. If you are passionate about what you are doing, then why not exhaust yourself doing it?

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Rule #16: Stick up for Yourself

This one might be an obvious one, but for me it is certainly a struggle. I am a huge fan of passive aggression and try to avoid confrontation at all costs. I am, however, working on toughening up my skin and have learned that I don’t have to take shit from anybody. In fact, I am learning to give shit back.

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Rule #17: Be Happy in Your Work

You will spend most of your life working. Sometimes all you work for is for a paycheck. Sadly, when most of your life is spent simply earning a check, your life will not be a happy one. A paycheck does not determine happiness. Happiness begets happiness.

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Rule #18: Help Others

Holding a door for your neighbor who is carrying a shit load of groceries or helping a stranger with a baby stroller climb the stairs will restore a sense of goodness in humanity as well as make both you and that other person a little more grateful for being alive. Have you ever fed the homeless? Or even played basketball with a friends kid? Helping others is another way to help yourself. We should all learn to do it naturally.

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Rule #20: Call your Mom

Moms worry and they want to hear from you. And when you actually go and see your mom, bring her flowers. She has most certainly earned them.

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Rule #21: Don’t Stare

If you are going to stare, then make it a point not to get caught.

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Rule #22: Watch Less TV

There is a real world out there. I will never understand how people spend their time watching someone else’s life on a reality TV show. Don’t you have your own life to live? TV should be treated like beer: Indulge in moderation.

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Rule #23: Don’t be Wasteful

Your old food can go a long way. Share with nature. Start a mulch pile. Make a bird feeder. Plant a flower garden. There are many ways to “feed the ducks” and it starts with you being environmentally responsible.

I know lots of people who grew up on farms and taught me so many things that have changed my perspective on being (even just a little bit) green: Toss your old coffee grinds and egg shells in an outside planter, use Tupperware and wash your zip-lock bags for re-use, pack recyclables in separate bags so building management can sort them more efficiently (or the can collectors don’t tear through the bags in haste), use canvas shopping bags and any plastic bags are used for garbage liners or art projects. It’s not that hard to change these habits. Be aware of nature and don’t take it for granted.

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Rule #24: Love

If you truly love, let it be frivolous. Everyone needs love, and if you give love, it will most certainly be returned to you.

I love you. ❤

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Rule #25: Break the Rules

I know, I know. This is a list of rules to follow and the last rule is to break the rules. Obviously some rules are meant to be broken.  And when you do break a rule, there is some sense of independence and defiance that is completely satisfying. You should always question any rule and play the devil’s advocate, even if you are not the devil. Always question everything. There is no reason anyone should ever tell you how to live your life.

My personal take on rules to live by is one of poetic and philosophical gesture. I can sum it up by telling you that you don’t need a book or religion to tell you what to do. You tell yourself what to do as you are your own maker. There are no actual “Rules to Live By” and while some people believe that certain rules are written in stone (literally, just google “Moses”), there is no such thing. Your set of rules will differ from everyone else’s, but as long as you live a good life (or at least give it your best effort), you will be golden.

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Change, Journal, Life, Uncategorized

The Bitch is Back

Hi Everyone. I’m back.

I am sorry it has taken me years to get back to you. I recenlty logged back into my wordpress and discovered 29 drafts from the past 5 years. Titles include:

The Noise Hole
Monsters
I am a City
The Banana Incident
My First Period
We are all Slaves
20 Women
Meet My Mom

There must be over 20,000 words already written. I am making it my goal to finish a few of these gems (once I figure out where the hell I was going with some of them) and give you some new things as well.

As a general update, here is what I have been doing for the past few years:

I turned 34, 35, then (shocker) 36 years old. I have eaten close to 1,000 bagels and probably double that in pizza slices and tortilla chips. Two of my cherished kitties have passed away and another one is very close to the end. There are two new men in my life, one is my little tuxedo kitty named Carlos and the other is a man I’d LOVE to see in a tuxedo, Gonzalo. My new apartment is a part of my old loft from years ago and is filling itself with new memories and new artwork. I have lost some friends, which was a short series of bad, sad breakups, and have made new relationships with better people. I am fat and happy.

Oh – and I got bangs!

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I have been working for an Interior Designer for the past 2.5 years and absolutely love it. As per my typical places of employment, it’s high end and pretentious and I class it down just a little bit with bubbly jokes and crude sweetness. I finally make what I deserve and I work with an incredible group of talented and wonderful people.

In 2017, I made a resolution to donate once a month to a different charity. In 2018, I began doing these donation on Facebook as a monthly fundraiser. I cannot begin to tell you how rewarding this resolution has been for me. In my spare time, I run the South Bronx Yard Exchange Flea Market with Gonzalo and my neighbor and friend, Ebonie Simone, who creates incredible pieces of jewelry and art. This Saturday, July 14th,  the Flea Market will be holding a clothing drive for The Bottomless Closet NYC, which coincides with July’s Fundraiser for the same group.

As you can tell, I am still a little shameless.

I am glad to be back. I know that picking up the pen or clacking free-thoughtfully into the keyboard is going to be good for me and, hopefully, you, too.

Until next time, here’s a picture of Carlos the Cat. You can follow him on instagram @monsterkittycarlos.

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By Definition, Curse Words, Fuck You, FUN!, Language, Life, Opinion, Rules To Live By, Truck Drivers, Vocabulary

Like a Truck Driver

**WARNING: This post is filled with all sorts of foul language. I am advising discretion to those of you who are sensitive to the vulgarities of those who swear like truck drivers. This might not be the post for you. Truck drivers, of course, are welcome.

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I have always had a potty mouth. I have no idea how I got it, since my parents are quite religious, but I got it, and it’s here to stay. A potty mouth paired with a censor-less brain-to-mouth internal wiring system and intense sarcasm can sometimes lead to catastrophe, or some really meaningful and hilarious sidebars.

Once I fell and skinned my knee on the concrete. I yelled “SHIT!” My sister heard me and blackmailed me for YEARS over that. One day, when I was a teenager, she said, “Do this, or I am going to tell mom what you said.” I replied, “Oh fucking hell, Mom, I said “shit” ten years ago when I fell and skinned my knee. Would you like to see the scar?” Then we all just laughed and laughed.

I grew up climbing trees and playing any sport that had the word “ball” in it (I love balls). I even ran track for a season so I wouldn’t be bored. Sports as a female teen were always interesting. You learn about sex on every bus ride to away games, and by the ripe age of 15 have a general knowledge of all of the bad words, their definitions, and proper usage.

By the time I went to college, I was a professional “verbal truck driver.” My very first class in college was an English course with a very attractive gay man. I can’t remember his name, but I am certain that I was in love with him, regardless of his non-desire for me (that is generally the way it goes). I like to think that it was because his first lecture was all about the bad words, and why they aren’t bad at all, they only sound bad.

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He started his lecture by saying the “N” word. I cringe every time I hear that word. It is ugly and harsh and gross… no one should EVER use it. Then he said a whole bunch of other bad words, which made us all giggle and blush a little. He asked us what all these words had in common (minus their vulgar meanings, of course). He went on to explain to us 18 year old champions of foul language that curse words don’t necessarily mean bad things, but they are concocted with sounds that are harsh and brash to the ears. They also take on the flavor of what you are saying and how you are saying it.

The SH and T in SHIT keep the word short and hard, as do the F and CK in FUCK, as well as the B and TCH in BITCH. You can see where he was going with all of this very interesting information. Then he came back to the “N” word. He explained the difference between using the word with and ER and an A at the end. By ending the word with an A, you have a “friendly greeting.” By using it with an ER at the end, you are a fucking racist. Again, I find this word to make my ears burn and wish it never existed. I am particularly turned off when adolescents are using it, listening to music with it in the lyrics, and singing along to them without a second thought.

The use of harsh, short letters really make all the difference. For instance, compare the following by saying them aloud:

SHIT! vs RATS!

FUCK YOU vs SCREW YOU (please use a Schwarzenegger accent)!

DAMN IT! vs DARN IT!

ASSHOLE! vs MORON!

Yes, they are all excellent words that can successfully be used appropriately, but some are stronger than others.

An interesting side-note… Learning about the effects of the sounds changed my writing in many ways, allowing for subtle hints of joy or anger, even sarcasm. Alliteration is a powerful friend, you Seven Sided Son-of-a-Bitch.

Anyway, I had never experienced a classroom setting where there were so many (or any) curse words used, but also dissected and recombined to affect meaning and level of offense or emotion. Needless to say, I loved college from that first class. My mind was blown wide open. I realized that cursing was okay, and was used as a poignant display of emotions, whether it be a raging anger or dubious excitement. Sometimes cursing can also be used as pain reliever, like when I scraped my knee as a child. I try not to curse around kids or old people, out of common sense and respect, respectively, but being able to hold these words in when they come out so naturally is like zipping your lips and then trying to swallow the key… it’s just not possible.

There are ways to curse excellently and ways to curse like a douche. For instance, in Star Trek: Generations (1994) when Data utters his first expletive, “Oh Shit!” … That is genius! Not only is Data an android and has no feelings or use for such vocabulary, he has also never used a curse word ever! It’s so unexpected that it’s funny.

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For a bad example of poor curse word usage, please watch the character Deb in any Dexter episode. She is terrible at cursing. It’s so forced and awkward. It’s like the actor was originally a ballerina and has never used profanity before in her life, and was cast to play the part of a tom-boy potty mouth super cop. Um, no. It’s just plain bad.

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I have usually worked places where cursing was a norm. Working in factories and workrooms, the girls curse just as much (if not more) than the guys do. Even the sweet blonde from Georgia will slide and angry “Fuck!” in there every once in a while. I even once went to an interview, where the owner was cursing up a storm. I remember thinking, “hmmm, I might actually like it here.” Of course the cursing isn’t directed at anyone, but tossed into the universe. Like, “Shit, I just cut the shit out of my fucking finger!” or “Fuck this shit!” As long as those kinds of negative statements are offset by “Shit! That looks great!” and “Fucking hell, this is the shit!” then the energy in the universe can keep a (somewhat) dynamic equilibrium.

I find cursing to be self healing. When I jab my toe or crack my elbow on something sharp, cursing helps me emotionally and physically present that pain to the world. It helps me cope with a pain that feels like it may never go away. I also find that cursing at objects makes them do what I want. For instance, when I am at work trying to pry loose a fabric that needs to be put to work, I pull and tug and say, “Come on, you fucking fuck!” and just like magic, the roll pulls out. Name calling is also effective in these situations. When called a slut, the fabric responds in a similar manner.

Whoever said “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” probably never got pelted with a sharp, hurtful “FUCK YOU.” I have a  stockpile of those in my “emotional cursing arsenal” saved for just the right moment when I need to let someone know exactly how I feel about them. While I do not always intentionally throw it out there to act as a dagger, it is  certainly expelled from my lips with a force reserved specifically for causing pain. Sorry (but also probably not sorry because the person, most likely, fucking deserves it).

My favorite curse word is FUCK, as you can probably tell from the amount of F-bombs dropped already. To me, it is the most versatile of curse words. It is an extremely passionate word. You can bring someone down (Fuck You!) or rile someone up (That’s fucking awesome!). You can express anger ( I’m not a fucking moron!). You can also use it to let things go (Fuck it! (which was my personal motto from 2002-2011)).

My least favorite word of all time, besides the “N” word, is C*NT. I can’t even write it. The “C” word should be reserved for situation where it’s use is absolutely necessary. A nice alternative to the “C” word (but just as vulgar and ear exploding) is C*NT’s dainty cousin, TWAT. A gal pal of mine uses this word, and she’s so sweet that she makes it sound like a term of endearment. How charming! C U Next Tuesday is also a sneaky way of throwing some shade at an asshole.

When my niece was about 1 year old, we were in church and she dropped the toy she was playing with. She yelled, “SHIT!” and bent down top pick it up. I said, “Excuse me, Gabby?” She looked me dead in the eyes and said “Shit.” in the most serious and sternest way possible. Being the cool aunt, I brushed it off with a smile and a high five (that’s my girl!). The church ladies did not approve. I didn’t give a fuck.

I have tried to rationalize having a  swear jar, but I’d be really broke all of the time with a huge vacation fund. Perhaps that is the only way I will ever save money to travel the world. Then I can learn how to swear in other languages, which may come in handy if I , say, stub a toe in Spain, or smash my kneecap in China.

My dear readers, I leave you with THIS.

And please remember, there is always room for a fucking swear word, just please curse responsibly.

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