Yes, I’m a potty mouth

There came a point in my teenage years that I started cussing. Growing up I remember getting punished for saying a bad word or two. Now it has turned into a very bad habit, that’s going to take a lot to break.

I think cussing was my outlet growing up. I had to be naughty some where. I was a good student, never in trouble and hardly got punished at home or in school. Heck, I didn’t get a detention until 6th grade, and that was for a missing assignment or book, I can’t remember which. I didn’t get sent to the principal’s office until I was a freshman in high school, and you may have guessed it, I cussed in class.

Now that I’m a mother, it’s become even harder for me to break the cussing habit. I often get frustrated and sometimes spout off and let the bad words fly. Last Sunday I was just that, frustrated. It seemed like there was endless lines wherever we went, nowhere to park and it just wasn’t a good day. Exasperated, I said, “what is with all these f****** cars,” when we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. My husband looked at me annoyed by my choice of words in front of our son, and no sooner than his glare flashed in my eyes, Shaun repeated word-for-word, what I had just said. I was embarrassed. My husband was disappointed.

Something has got to change. I can’t be the mother with the potty mouth that has a little boy with the same mouth. I want him to be smart and articulate and use his words for good, not bad. I guess for now, I will have to find a another outlet!

And if you have suggestions or tips to help me break the cussing habit, I am all ears.

My two-year-old, Shaun or repeat, as I often call him since he has to say everything I do.

My two-year-old, Shaun or repeat, as I often call him since he has to say everything I do.

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Work

I ran across a tweet on Twitter this morning, that said, “I don’t want a job, I just want money.” Oh how perfect life would be if one didn’t have to work for their money. At least that’s what I am feeling this morning.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love my job, but it would be nice to be able to do every single thing my mind wanders to and wishes for. It would be nice to have a workshop and I could sand, paint, stain and create to my heart’s content. It would be nice to have a fully stocked office with a super fast computer and a bag full of awesome lenses that way I could edit the many magnificent photos I know I can find and take. It would be nice to have a way to make money at creating things and capturing images. I know many people do the things I am wishing for each day and are very successful at them. What is holding me back? Heck, I don’t know. Maybe its fear of failure. Maybe its lack of desire. Maybe it’s lack of time.

My very first job out of college started a week after graduation. In that week, I moved into my apartment, tucked away all of my things, and sent the rest of my stuff back home with my dad. One of my most prized possessions would have to remain there too, my horse. But it wasn’t long before I found a place for her to live and she joined me back in Oklahoma. At my job as a general assignment reporter I covered anything that was thrown at me – education issues, agriculture issues, news stories, and even features. It was a fun time, and one that I won’t forget and one that taught me so much, but I wanted to be directly involved in writing about agriculture.

Nearly 10 years ago I started at my current job. My title at the time was copy editor. My days were filled with editing stories and sending them to the right edition. I occasionally got to write stories and take photos. Then web editor was added to my resume. I did a lot of the same things, but with more of a web-influenced track. Then in 2012 I was promoted to associate editor. With more of a focus on stories, covering events, photos and other duties my job sure has evolved from what it did when I started in 2003. But I do like to write, really enjoy taking photos and traveling.

So, why then does the thought of changing my path creep into my brain? Am I getting a seven-year itch three years too late? Who knows. But what I do know is I need a steady job to pay the bills to survive. We have a house to maintain, horses to feed and Shaun to feed and clothe. Those things aren’t cheap, not to mention the bills that seem to always make their way to our mailbox.

When telling my husband about my thoughts on the subject of work last night, he asked, “what would you do if you didn’t work there?” Honestly, I said, I don’t know. But what I do know is that I will keep on keeping on. I’m not a quitter and will get the job done, no matter how unpleasant or unhappy I am. Then, as I was trolling Twitter again, thinking of how to finish up this post, I ran across this – Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely. -Unknown

Snarky

Urban Dictionary describes snark as a combination of “snide” and “remark.” Sarcastic comment(s). Also snarky (adj.) and snarkily (adv.)

Sometimes in my social media outlets I have to refrain from stating my true feelings for two reasons. 1) likely there’s no one who wants to hear it and 2) my accounts are tied to my job, and the last thing I want to do is make my employer mad or give a bad impression of my field. That being said, I apologize in advance. Some of the things I’m going to talk about in this blog post may not jive, and if you are easily offended, I won’t be offended that you stop reading now on move on.

Occasionally my personality gets the best of me, and even though I try hard to be nice,  that bad segment of me shows its face every once in a while. I’m not sure where in my genetic make up the snark gene is, but there are times I have to keep my mouth shut (or keys in this case) and silence it.

Case in point, Facebook. I admit it. I spend entirely too much time looking at Facebook. I like it because I can keep up with old classmates, friends or acquaintances without having to reach out to them. Plus I like seeing the news come across Facebook or Twitter and scooping friends or family with the latest.

My biggest peeve (well I actually have three) with it is people who must “share” an account with their husband/wife/significant other. I get that you are a couple. I get you are committed to one another. I get it, but WHY not have your own account?? I guess I don’t share very well. My husband and I have separate accounts and I don’t know the password to his account and I prefer to keep it that way. I have nothing to hide.

My second peeve with FB? A business that doesn’t have a page, but a regular account. There’s so much more a page can do for a business than a regular FB account. It’s much easier to “like” a business page and look through their wares, than bother with the whole “friending” process. And a page can have a million likes, while a regular account is limited on the number of friends it can have.

Another peeve is those people who share EVERYTHING on their FB. There are some things that shouldn’t be said out loud much less on the Internet. Don’t be an attention-getting/seeking whore on FB just because you feel bad about a certain subject. How about you TALK to the person you have a beef with instead of bashing them on FB?

Twitter is a whole nother beast and in the last year I have finally gotten the hang of it and managing it with Hootsuite. One thing that bothers me the most is the spammers. They tend to bring out my ugly snark more often than not.

Phew.. I feel better now. Snark (much like farts) must be released otherwise they travel up your spine and cause all kinds of bad ideas and negativity. Ok, maybe not, but its funny.

Grammar

I am not perfect, but I try to be in my writing.

When I was attending Kansas State, I had a professor for my editing and design class that pounded into our heads appropriate grammar and usage. On one of the first days of the class we took a quiz to see how much we knew (or in my case) didn’t know. I was horrified to only have gotten a few correct on the quiz. Thanks Dodge City Public Schools. I think I learned more in that editing and design class than I had learned in all of my elementary, middle and high school English classes.

From then on, I was completely corrupted. I can’t read a magazine without copy editing it or looking for a mistake. Even now, 12 years since that class, I have a hard time getting through an email from someone who has poor grammar or even a text message. Yes, I’m one of those people who spells out words in texts. I have a hard time not doing it and succumbing to the abbreviations of texting.

My first real job out of college was at a daily newspaper in Northwest Oklahoma, and there I again was shown what I didn’t know. My editor harped on “over and under/more than and less than” and one of my least favorite terms, first annual. I despise that term. There’s no such thing as first annual! You have to have an event more than once for it to be an annual event. My husband rolls his eyes every time I rant and rave about that term. I even drug out my old AP stylebook to prove to him that I was right one day last year.

Grammar is often humbling. I can get a kick out of someone’s lack of proper grammar, and eventually I will make a mistake and use incorrect grammar. So watch out! I’m on to you..

Annual event entry.

My AP stylebook from college.