saying stupid stuff…

So in our pride we ordered for breakfast an omelet, toast and coffee and what has just arrived is a tomato salad with onions, a dish of pickles, a big slice of watermelon and two bottles of cream soda.    John Steinbeck

I am often fearful of hitting the Publish button instead of the Preview button when I type a blog post.  If that ever happens and all the partial sentences, bad grammar and incoherent thoughts are shared, I will have to change my name and disconnect from social media for the shame of it all.

In person I think before speaking and choose words carefully.  When I post a Facebook message or comment on another person’s post, I’m equally cautious… Except. When. I. Am. Not.

Sometimes I say stupid stuff.

Recently on social media, I wrote something I thought added value.  I hit Enter and left the page.  But I had this awkward feeling, so I went back to read.  I couldn’t believe the idiocy I’d sent into cyberspace.  I sounded like a know-it-all.  It was just like Steinbeck’s quote – I thought I was serving up one thing, but it came out as something else altogether.

I was embarrassed.

…I was embarrassed the same way I felt the first time I met Doug’s family before we got married.  I flew to Vancouver, British Columbia for a New Year’s Eve party.  I was determined to wear my red high heels because they matched my outfit.  It didn’t matter to me there was a foot of snow on the ground… and it didn’t matter to the ice covered porch that I was wearing heels.  My backside hit those steps really hard.  California girl meets Canadian winter.  Nice way to impress the future in-laws.

…I was embarrassed the same way I felt at my first pool session for scuba diving lessons… when we were all supposed to sit on the bottom of the pool and practice breathing with our regulators.  It was so cool to be sitting under water, looking through my spiffy, new prescription lens dive mask.  But I quickly realized something was wrong when I couldn’t take a breath, and everyone was looking and pointing at me, and I saw my regulator floating next to me instead of being in my mouth where it belonged.

Sometimes I do stupid stuff too.

For the last week my home has been filled with company.  My sister and niece were here for a week, my nephew and his family for four days, and over that course of time three of my sons and their families popped in and out.  It’s been a busy, fun time.

Large family gatherings are prime ground for saying stupid stuff.  But at least, over time, hopefully, words and feelings can be worked through.

I figure that my husband and I have spoken about a dozen novels worth of stupid stuff over the years to one another.  The difference is we can go back and say, “no, wait, that’s not what I meant”  – or “yes, that is exactly what I meant and here’s why!”.

You don’t get a do-over on social media.  Especially when so many connections are people you know casually or really, not at all.  It’s a curious thing that we feel free to write something on the internet that we might not say in person.

After a couple of days of internal cringing at my online babble, I’ve lightened up.  Over the years I’ve offered grace for foolish comments spoken and written.  The same grace has been extended to me.

And I’d rather connect with people than live in a vacuum.  I guess, I would rather risk saying a stupid thing once in awhile than saying nothing at all.

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with saying stupid stuff.  It’s just a picture I love… especially the feet wearing the boots.  It’s a little boy who doesn’t yet know his grandmother’s wordy ways or her unfortunate choices in footwear.  Hopefully we can keep it that way awhile longer.

Logans boots

2 thoughts on “saying stupid stuff…

  1. Sarge

    Much truth and wisdom here, Brooke, to say nothing of entertainment. Thank you. (And you can never go wrong quoting Steinbeck. I have a picture of him on the wall of my office.)


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