Women. We talk and we talk and we talk. Of course there are men who speak just to hear their own voices but they are called lawyers and get paid for it. Verbal diarrhea seems to generally afflict more women than men. Maybe we are just more verbal naturally or maybe we are raised to communicate that way. At any rate, words can be a gift or a curse. It’s all about what is coming out of our mouths.
Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t some high and mighty sermon here where I judge all the gossipers. I do it, too. We all gossip and talk about other people sometimes. Whether it’s whatever the latest celebrity rag is hocking or what the neighbors or co-workers are up to, we are all in the glass house.
I have the good fortune to work and hang out in places where I can do a lot of evesdropping. I say good fortune because a lot of times, I just hear odd snippets of conversation that are really funny out of context, like a group of doctors talking about poop. Yes, they were enjoying a meal. Or half of a cell phone conversation at a coffeehouse. And being one of the few sober persons in a bar is always a good time. “Don’t eat that. It’ll make your butthole burn,” is a new classic. One of my favorite evesdrops was a convo with no words. A deaf family was fighting. Angry faces and gestures. I still wanna know what pissed that kid off. Probably the most memorable thing I have ever overheard was, “It’s almost my birthday and I’d like another diamond, but I don’t know where I’d put it,” as she flashed enough bling around her hands, neck, and face to match the GDP of a small country.
It’s the people like that who tend to stick with me. Lots of material but not a lot of substance. (Ah, the sweet sound of judgment.) There was a group of several women I overheard the other day who didn’t seem to have anything nice to say. Granted, they had had a few drinks, it was the weekend, and they were blowing off steam with friends. They were well-mannered and well-dressed. But one had to wonder about the well-being of people who participated in that unbridled bitchfest. Husbands, family, friends not there… no one was safe from the venom.
One of my favorite books is “The Four Agreements.” It is one of the reasons that I am still walking this earth and able to do it sober. One of the most important lessons I took from that book is that everything that is communicated is a reflection of the communicator. If someone says something nasty to me or about me, it was never really about me. It’s so easy to internalize everyone else’s crap and judgments and just get right on the negative train.
I really do make the effort to find the good in situations. I make a lot of jokes, can be sarcastic, and gossip. I just hope that I do it all for fun and not at the expense of others. I’m trying to adopt the “Bark Less, Wag More” platform of the bitches.
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