<Bloggety Blah Blog>

Bloggety Blah Blog

Lalalalalalala...I can't HEAR you!

Thursday, July 20, 2006

The real me

I talk to myself. There. I've said it. The cat is out of the proverbial bag.

Not that it comes as any surprise to those who know me well. I've always been one to chat myself up. I've caught myself doing it in the shower, on the freeway, walking between my office and car, while shopping, while putting on make-up, while cleaning house (yes, I occasionally clean house), etc. And yet, those who love me and know me best will still walk into a room, eyes shifting from left to right under a furrowed brow and ask, "Uhhhhhhh, who are you talking to?" Often followed up by, "Why do you do always that?"

I explained to Queenie in a recent conversation that it's totally subconscious and that I am usually just working something out in my head. The more audible my conversation, the more passionate I am about the subject matter (i.e. the more pissed I am) . If I'm just talking out some lovely fantasy, like winning millions in the lottery, I pretty much just move my lips. If I'm really excited about it, I might actually progress into a hint of a whisper. If I'm in a rage, like for example when my husband does the 50th moronic thing in a week, I'll go from a full out whisper to actually talking.out.loud. Which can be embarassing since I normally can't even repeat what I've just said if I'm caught in the act. It's out of my head that fast. So, if someone walks in on me, and I realize I've been speaking my thoughts out loud, for the life of me I have no idea whether I've said something horrible or incriminating or what.

On a related tangent, Queenie informed me recently that my grammar and coherent sentence structure directly correlates to how pissed I am. The more angry and flustered I am, apparently, the worse my grammar and the more likely I am to misplace words or word meanings within a sentence. Go figure.

So now she says things to me like, "So, have you got that 'all worked out in your head'?" Or, "I know you're not really mad at me, your grammar was perfect."

Little shit.

And since I'm making admissions, I'm also a car dancer. And singer. In this instance, according to those who know and love me, how well I do these things is directly proportional to the number of drinks I've had. Not that it takes a drink stronger than coffee to get me going. But, that's a story for another day.

posted by *******DIANE******* @ 10:37 AM

0 Comments: