Foot-in-mouth disease

I'm pretty shy. I don't connect with people easily. In person anyway. I have a chronic case of Foot-in-mouth disease. I've had it as long as I can remember, and it's getting worse in my old age. I'm THAT woman. The one who attempts to compliment but insults instead. The one who says something completely innocent but it doesn't realize it came out obnoxious or lewd until hours later when it's too late to compound the issue by trying to clear it up. The one who catches herself mid-toe-swallow and tries to cover it up and only makes it worse in the end. There have been a lot of Morning After's where I'd swear I've seen toe nails and sock fuzzies floating in the toilet bowl. Which reminds me about a story concerning that blue beer they serve at Quarks Bar in the Star Trek Experience at the Las Vegas Hilton. It's pretty hysterical. But I'll save that for another day.

I'm much better with the written word. Preferably on a computer so I can delete, rearrange and sit on something before I release my words into the world. I seem much more intelligent that way. This is because I suffer from another chronic syndrome called BLABBER MOUTH. (BM) Once I'm comfortable with a person, which takes about six months or so, I'll start talking about something I'm completely enthusiastic about. I'll keep going and going until I realize that no, the other person is NOT having a seizure, their eyes are darting all over the place looking around desperately for an escape route from my breathless commentary. I abruptly shut up and walk quickly away in shame, while the other person is alternatively wondering where salvation came from and WHERE exactly that shut off button was so they can use it next time. Yeah, that's me.

I always seem to have so much to share. I love to make people laugh. I believe laughter is the most beautiful sound in the world, to me anyway. But sometimes I get a bit carried away. I'm really trying to work on this. Hopefully I'll find a cure before someone calls the nice men in white coats to carry ME away! Although, I might enjoy it for a while, and wouldn't THAT just be a laugh and a half?

I'm pretty sure I had a point I was trying to make when I started this post. Of course, I've had a complete brain fart and lost it through my pointless rambling on and on. So I'll just say this... Because I suffer from BM, I can pretty much guarantee every post I make will be edited a minimum of eight times, and I'll wind up cutting at least HALF of what I've written before I post anything. I hope it helps. If not, at least you were warned.