Cleaning up my act

(originally posted 12/26/2006)
Cleaning up my act
Christmas os over, press on to the '07!
Christmas was awesome. The crowning jewel gift of spoiled little Cayceness was the 37'' LG Flatscreen I got for my bedroom, but it didn't stop there. I got a fabulous topaz ring, a chi hair iron, a new robe, a giant purse, 4 cds (for those who care: The Walkmen, The Decemberists, TV on the Radio and Bloc Party), more maternity clothes and loungewear than you can shake a stick at, and a bunch of kitchen SHIT... stuff (for those who care: a new mixer, silverware, ceramic mixing bowls, a pizza stone, and more). And more, much much more... I feel so spoiled. Like gross, disgustingly spoiled.
And in the spirit of gluttony, I ate 2+ Holiday dinners, calories galore. I made buckeye balls. I ate hershey kisses, and cheesecake and candycanes until I thought I was going to vomit. I actually did vomit, but only once (I blame this on pregnancy).
And somewhere between the eating and gifting and sleeping I came up with an idea. An idea that, mind you, lets me give a little something back... helps me feel like I deserve all of the wonderful gifts I received.
You see, I cuss like a FUCKING sailor. I cuss about everything. I cuss when I am pissed, when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am pregnant, when I am not pregnant. I cuss to myself. I cuss to others (short my stepson, to whom I limit my cussing considerably). Yesterday before christmas dinner, I said FUCK no fewer than 246 times - at my mother's house.
The cussing recently became an issue when I began blogging, because I read just how much I cuss. If you have read any of my previous blogs, you certainly know what I am talking about. I re-read each one before I post it and have a mini-panic attack about who will read it and what they will think of me. Always, I post them without edit, but, I think about not posting them - and that is what really made me do some soul searching.
I believe my mouth reached it's high point of filth when I was working at bars and restaurants during and post college. You see, the career service industry worker can weave a tapestry of profanity so fine, they are constantly cloaked in it. The "CUNT"s and "FUCK"s just roll off their tongue as if they are speaking an exotic foreign language. This excited me, and I mimicked their language, eventually adopting it as my own.
And it has gotten considerably worse.
Now everyone, save 10-15 people I know, are ASSHOLES. If you do something goofy, you are surely a DOUCHE, or a DOUCHEBAG. I am always asking hubs to get his SHIT off of the stairs. And my favorite: The FUCKING Phone, The FUCKING mailman, my FUCKING car, the MOTHER FUCKING house, etc...
Soooo, I have decided to clean up my FUC... my mouth. This will not be a total transformation, as I truly enjoy cussing, but rather a limit to the amount I let myself get away with.
So wish me luck, ASSHO.... I mean people!