British Curse Words

Sometimes when you have OCD you worry about saying weird things out loud.

And sometimes when you have OCD, because you worry about it, you do say those weird things out loud. At the sensitive age of 10 years old, I was in the kitchen with my mom talking about a class project. My class project was on fertilizer. (Don’t ask me why, I probably picked the topic and was for some reason interested in the dangers of eating chemicals).

Now – before I go any further with this story, I need to explain my family’s idea of open communication. When kissing came up on a movie, my parents would say “Close your eyes!”

My dad’s idea of talking about the birds and the bees was to covertly ask me, “Soo. Do you believe that Mary was a virgin?”

,

"Yees"

 “Do you know what that means?”

"Yees."

And that was the end of that.

Well, except that from them on I assiduously avoided any topics that might feel as intensely awkward as that did.

Ok, back to the kitchen when I was ten. I was talking to my mom about my project and practicing it in front of her. When it came time for me to say “fertilizer,” I said “testicles.”

No other context or reason other than my OCD brain made exactly what I was afraid of come true.

My mom:

“Do you know what that means?”

Me: 

I think the subconscious thought process in my mind was something along the lines of this:

“Ok I’m talking about fertilizer……roosters fertilize eggs….how does that work?…..testicles….That would be SO awkward if you said that out loud.”

And then the word came out of my mouth like a gymnast sticking a perfect landing on the mat. Loud and proud for all the world to see. Unmovable and unmistakable.

I considered trying to pretend that I had said another word similar to that. Festival, cubicle, anything but what had so very horribly come out of my mouth. I quickly realized there was no recourse and said something like, “IIIIIII have to go arrange my American Girl dolls now.”

14 years later, I was on the phone with someone from Great Britain. I used one of the exclamations that I like. Something like “man alive” or “jeezy petes.” That started a conversation about what exclamations Brits use. There was a girl from England in my ward and she would always say “bollocks” when she missed the ball during volleyball. She seemed like a nice, normal girl, so I didn't think the word would have any bad connotations. I brought up this word to my friend and he lost it on the phone. At that moment, I knew I had made a tragic mistake. How grave a mistake, I wasn’t sure, but definitely a mistake.

He composed himself, explained what it meant, and I realized that my old "fertilizer" friend had come back to afflict my life. Except this time the word was wearing a Union Jack. Loud and proud for all the world to see.

Julia Vincent Hetherton

Julia vs. Stuff

I am an anti-hoarder. I love to throw things away. It's like a high for me. I get a trip out of tossing something triumphantly into the trash. "You don't have any hold on me you transient worldly dross!"
It's freeing. I try to convert people all the time, but humans are surprisingly attached to their stuff.

Secretly, I would LOVE to be a professional de-clutterer. Getting to throw people's crap away would be exhilarating. This is how I feel when I chuck something into the trash:

But like I said, people are attached to their stuff and the chances of me getting seriously maimed would go way up.

"You don't need this ratty sweatshirt from high school."

"But I like it."

"But you don't neeeeed it."

*Tosses it smugly into the trash*

*Gets beat up*

The only sentimental thing that I keep is notes from people. If you write me something even just mildly personal and kind, I will keep it.

On the flip side, I am also a tightwad. So the things I do keep, I use sparingly. My mind has decided that there is some special occasion coming up in the future that I need to save my nice things for. What that special occasion is, my mind has yet to inform me. Usually this applies to perfume and nice shoes, things that will either run out or get worn out if I use them too frequently.

When there is a special occasion that I might use my nice things for, I usually forget to use them. I buy perfume and because I worry about it running out, I don't use it. So it's essentially like I don't have perfume. WHICH IS THE PROBLEM THAT I'M TRYING TO AVOID IN THE FIRST PLACE. Sometimes I really don't think that I raised my brain.

Even though we live in a world of scarcity (thank you Econ 110 and Dr. Kearl) I am trying to live abundantly. Not wastefully, but abundantly.

I've realized that each moment can be a special occasion because "this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure" - Oprah Winfrey

Cheesy, but true.

So my advice is this: use the dang perfume and then throw the bottle away.

And here's more Soul Train because there are few things greater in this world. The last one is my personal favorite.

"Their Eyes Were Watching God" - thoughts

For those who are familiar with my blog, you will quickly realize that this is not one of my typical posts. This is not a story about something that happened in my life. Instead it is my thoughts on a book that I read. Since I didn't have anyone to discuss it with, I wanted to discuss it with myself. So if you fancy that, read on.

I'm a sucker for literary titles. I have to admit, that is one of the reasons I was drawn to read this book by Zora Neale Hurston. I didn't know much about it except that the title seems to contain a whole world in one sentence. "Their Eyes Were Watching God." It tells the reader almost nothing, but ignites questions. "Who are they?" "Why are they watching God?" It implies some sort of struggle. It implies humans interactions with a force greater than themselves.

So with this curiosity, I started to read.

I found that this book was exactly about struggle and forces greater than us. And yet, it is not a sad story. It contains, among other things, sadness and even worse than sadness, apathy, but I closed the cover feeling enlightened, wiser and with a desire to live my life with more purpose. As Janie Crawford, the main character, says "You got tuh go there tuh know there." I want to go "there" now. I want to have experiences and live and not be afraid of the struggle.

Janie's experiences at first stifle her thoughts and her voice. Then, partly because she meets Tea Cake, her third husband and the man that propels her forward towards her horizon, she rediscovers herself. One great symbol of this is when she lets down her hair from the constricting hair wrap that her second husband forces her to wear.

I love how Janie learns to put what people think of her into perspective. She wants to be true to herself, rather than be true others. This is illustrated poignantly at Tea Cake's funeral. " No expensive veils and robes for Janie this time. She went on in her overalls. She was too busy feeling grief to dress like grief."

As an INFJ, I frequently feel that my actions conform depending on who I am around. Janie encounters this too. With her grandmother and her three husbands she changes how she behaves and how she loves. She compares love to the changeable sea. "Love ain’t somethin’ lak uh grindstone dat’s de same thing everywhere and do de same thing tuh everything it touch. Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing...it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.”

Each marriage that she has is a shore. Most importantly, at the end of the book, she arrives at her own shore and is able to love herself and her voice.

To put it in the words of Peoby, Janie's best friend,  “Ah done growed ten feet higher from jus’ listenin’ tuh you, Janie.