I was six years old when I heard my babysitter say the word suck.
“That’s a bad word!” I said, shocked. In fear of retribution from on high, more like it. She was about to get zapped by the Lord, right there on our brown tweed couch.
This should tell you a little something about the kind of household we were raised in. Jesus did not approve of the word suck. What he thought about all those words my dad hollered when fixing the car, well, I was pretty sure the two of them came to an arrangement long before I was born. The Almighty gave my dad some crazy back disease, and my dad was allowed to curse.
“It is not a bad word,” Natalie assured me. She was sitting next to her lanky, red-headed boyfriend, eating Cheetos, totally relaxed. She didn’t look like she was afraid of any zapping. “You know, like, suck an egg?”
I wasn’t convinced.
I was ten when I saw that same babysitter again… at Girl Scout camp. I can’t tell you how many cool points I got for knowing that the lifeguard’s name wasn’t actually Splash. I called her Natalie every chance I got. This, in turn, should tell you a little something about just how “cool” Girl Scout camp cool points actually were. I think you got a dozen or so just for wearing a training bra. I also rocked at tie-dyeing. Sometimes I suspect that I peaked in coolness at Camp Treefoil.
Anyway, so suck was a bad word, and I never heard my mother curse in our home, and even in all my awkward rebellion, I didn’t allow the F-bomb to pass my lips until I was twenty-three years old. And now? Well, now you’d have to peel that word from my cold, dead tongue if you wanted me to clean up my act. Funny how that works. (I guess it’s sorta like how when I was eleven and I wanted to wear pantyhose so bad, I gave up both of my security blankets for them in one of the least shrewd trades I have ever made. And now? I’d kick puppies to get out of wearing them. And I want my damn blankets back.)
Sometimes, I get it in my head to write a post, and then midway through it occurs to me to question why, oh why, the Interweb would need to hear such a story. This is one of those occasions. But then again, a foul-mouthed father, Camp Treefoil and Jesus all made me who I am today. So, you know, what the f*ck. I’ll tell the damn story.
I must confess, it’s days like today when I count on your job to be really freaking boring.
So freaking boring that I’m the first post. Sad really.
Come on. We’ll get a box of Thin Mints and be sad together.
You underestimate just how boring the job is…. truly. Bring on the Peanut Butter Patties.
Not just boring, stupendously boring. But I guess we all have to suck it up now and again to have things like housing, food, clothing, and most importantly, Internet access! Here’s hoping your day gets brighter
Holy jeeze, I haven’t heard the phrase suck an egg (and I still don’t even really get it) since I was ten – and that was thirty years ago…it brought me right down memory lane hearing it. Thanks Heather
Give yourself more credit – you also help with procrastination. Haha.
I read even if my job isnt boring. I always make time for my fishy friend. Plus you are F’ing hilarious! We will miss you this weekend
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My job is not boring – not today anyway. But…I am happy to drop what I’m doing to check out This Fish for gems like:
“Well, now you’d have to peel that word from my cold, dead tongue if you wanted me to clean up my act.”
I am a writer, and I am inspired by your razor sharp wit and sheer talent. Because my razor sharp wit is trapped inside a science writer’s mind and refuses to come out an play with the written word.
Your former boss is an idiot.
mmmm…thin mints. OR, that super yummy Edy’s Thin Mint ice cream!
“I can’t tell you how many cool points I got for knowing that the lifeguard’s name wasn’t actually Splash.”
I can’t tell you the girl scout memories that came back with that.
Classic!
Your reader ‘Joni’ hit it dead on. To reiterate her words… your former boss IS an idiot & you razor sharp wit keeps me coming back daily (even though my job is hardly ever boring).
Second Blanket. Hedging your bets even at 10, hey?
From This Fish: Right?! I mean, a girl who needs two security blankets has trust issues right out of the womb!
Oh it is, don’t you worry =/
How about it f*cking sucks and is boring! But you and I will get major cool points when we get f*cking wonderful new jobs that don’t suck!
Boring job? You have no idea…..
Oh, wait. That probably sounded really mean…. Sorry.
And cool points notwithstanding, I don’t think Camp Trefoil was the peak of coolness for you or anyone. Who calls their lifeguard “Splash?”
Happy Wednesday, Fish!!
Work today was sucktastic. Thanks for makin’ it better.
both “that sucks” and “stupid” were bad words in my parents’ house and Jesus had nothing to do with it
i use them both quite a bit now. but i have to be pretty cranky to get all the way to f*ck.
Work is definitely boring. And I totally related to this post! I said my first swear word of any variety when I was 18. And I think the sound of it reverberated through the halls of my high school.
28 years old and still have the Blanky. Proudly (most of the time).
I have always wondered if all Girl Scout Camps were the same.
All in all an excellent reason to avoid work & get a chuckle at the same time. Thanks for the diversion, Fish!
I’m new to the Fish.. but I can say that my job has its boring moments.. and though I never got the pleasure of going to Girl Scout Camp.. Cheer camp was pretty much the same. No “suck”, “stupid” or “lose”.
I love your sense of humour. You really make me laugh.
I am more then happy to oblige with the boring job bit. In fact, I pretty much rely on your wonderful bits and pieces to get me through that post lunch haze.
Thanks!
Mmmm, you got to trade your security blankets?! At age seven I was told my teddy was gone, that he’d wanted out. I was gutted. I found him again 3 or 4 years later, minus eyes, nose and generally in appalling condition. I 100% knew it was him as he still had the missing patch of fur on his chest where I would swirl my finger whilst going off to sleep. He had become my cousins, and even though by that time I really was too old for a teddy bear, I still endeavoured a rescue. My young cousin, who judging by the state of Ted had no real love for him made such a stink, that I was made to feel the bad guy, and give him up anew. Cuz got Ted, I got to nurture a lingering sense of betrayal. Thanks for listening….
Okay, I had two security blankets as a kid. One day the “blanket fairy” decided to cash in and take one of them away because of the big hole in the backing
Some years later, as a teen, we were going through the hope chest, and what do I see but my long lost Mickey Mouse blanket! Thank you Mom, but Mickey needed to rejoin Snoopy (the other blanket). It was not for the fact of security, but more in retaliation for taking it away in the first place! And now at the ripe age of 24, I still sleep with both. They make a great neck support. And the blanket fairy gave up a long time ago…
Sorry if this is a really dumb question, but I thought your job was writing this blog? I’m confused what job you got fired from?
i don’t remember wearing training bras…
oh yeah, no ‘suck’ for me either. nor any words that could possibly be code for a real curse word – no ‘f that’ or “freaking idiot” anything like that.
but these days i can make a trucker blush, if the mood strikes…
Good Lord, your blog is extremely brilliant. Exchange links?
We weren’t allowed to say “shut up.” So we’d get really mad and yell at each other, “HUSH UP!” “No, YOU HUSH UP!” Which doesn’t really get the point across.
That brings back some seriously funny memories for me. My mom also hated the word ‘suck’. It was forbidden in our house along with all other swear words. I remember using things like ‘stinks’ or ‘jerk’ instead of the more appropriate (in my mind) swear words. Now as a teacher and coach I do have to watch my words, but I do use an occasional swear word out in public. I think now-a-days you actually get less emphasis by using swear words cause they are so common…I try to find ‘long’ words that state the same thing and the kids pay attention.
p.s. Hope you find a new job soon!
HEY JUST DONT THINK DO AS U LIKE N ENJOYE THE LIFE AS U THINK N WANNA TO ……………………….
I had a friend who wasn’t allowed to say “shoot” I don’t think her family even knew the F word existed.
I just came back from maternity leave to a company that’s moving out of state. Someone at the other location is doing my job and getting paid more than me. True, I get a HUGE bonus for sticking through to the end. So not only is my job boring, it’s depressing to see 75 people lose their jobs to people half their age making more money. I’d rather be home with my baby.
i wasn’t even allowed to say the word “crap.” Jesus never would have accepted that.
The pointless wandering blog posts are often the most entertaining and relatable. I totally got the “disappointed father” look the first time I said “sucks” in front of my Dad. And there’s nothing like the “disappointed father” look to make a girl stop saying something. For a bit anyway.
You can always count on me, then.
Hope things are going okay for you!
No bad words were allowed, and I still dont really utter them. Its how you know I’m really quite ticked! Suck though, thats everyday usage, nowadays.
Teddy bear instead of a blankie, and he still sleeps in the bed. Friends in college used to take him away or hide him etc. It was their motivating force to get me to do anything.
The only other thing that holds power is saying ” well i guess you cant, you ARE a girl”!
Don’t worry, it is.
Also on the naughty list of words at my house were crap and fart. To this day my mother cringes when anyone utters the word fart. In fact she would rather hear a whole string of curse words than fart. Of course, we torment her mercilessly with the word at every possible opportunity!
My friend was also not allowed to say fart and was trained to replace it with “fluffy” — which made it really entertaining when we were in our 20′s and she slipped with “oh my gosh, it totally smells like a fluffy”…
I don’t let my kids say – dang, shoot (as a replacement for s**t), freak, pissed, hell (it’s heaven or the bad place!), or any swear words in front of me. they are teenagers and always questions the words I have listed, but I’m not relenting. they sound horrible coming from kids! especially girls.
I didn’t so much care about the pantyhose at eleven but I desperately wanted to shave. I was told I couldn’t. I decided to sneak and do it. It’s hard to pretend you weren’t shaving when you’re leaving a wake of blood behind you as you walk down the hall.
Of course, my mother believed that virgins couldn’t use tampons. These days I wonder where the heck she saw the mutant monster tampons that would de-virginate a gal.
~shaking head sadly~
I was such a dork. I believed her.
You underestimate the boredom that my job provides. Hours and Hours of staring at a computer screen trying not to eat my lunch before it’s even 10 am…
Just like Sarah Brown, we weren’t allowed to say “shut up”. We had to say ‘be quiet’. Nice.
Also, she didn’t tolerate tattling. If my sister was bothering me, I had to say, “Suzanne, that’s annoying me please stop.” If she didn’t listen by the third time then and only then could I tell my mother.
Us, too! We had to say, “be quiet, please.”
What a crock.
Swearing was strictly forbidden in my household growing up as well, Unfortunately or fortunately maybe, I quickly became the coolest girl in 5 grade by uttering the word *hit every once and awhile on the playground during recess.. Such low standards for popularity back then!
Hey Fish,
I was really sad to hear about you losing your job. But at least you’re here in Dallas where things are a little more affordable than NYC.
I don’t know if you read Daily Candy articles, but I think they sometimes accept freelance articles, or heck, they might even be hiring right now. It’s just a thought.
Best of luck,
ash
Loved, loved this post!
You are such an amazing writer!
I have to say, I signed on today hoping and praying that there would be a blog to make me laugh or smile or be happy or think… and every day you don’t post is a little bit sad for me… Your blogs brighten my day
I completely understand. We weren’t allowed to say the word ‘fart’ in our house when we were children. Consequently now I only have to hear the lamest fart joke and I’m rolling on the floor in hysterics. pathetic
I wasn’t allowed to say “fart” either! I had to make up other words, like “pop” or “toot”! So embarassing, as is the entire subject of passing gas. See? Still can’t say it!
Remember those horrifying days in elementary school when someone always shouted out, “WHO FARTED?”, and even if it wasn’t you, you felt the shame? And the hand signals or you “ate it”? Please tell me someone else remembers all this, or was my school just full of raunchy kids?
Not boring, but made better by your stories!
I’ll have you know, I was elected Queen of Camp Treefoil the single year I attended. Nothing worse than finding out you’re allergic to horses AFTER you get to camp. It was all Cloud Rim for me after that.
Oh my. Truth be told, Cloud Rim was actually the camp where Splash was our lifeguard, but I couldn’t think of the name. Treefoil where where I learned to play the harmonica and a rat ran across my third grade teacher during a sleep over. She SO earned that ****.
and the slow descent into consuming non-biodegradable cans of icing and neighborhood watch presidency begins…
I confess to a boring existence. I could go into detail about how boring, but these comment sections only allow a maximum number of characters I always tend to exceed. However, our boredom isn’t why you should have posted this latest entry. It’s good that you did, because it shows that your sense of humor and determination are still intact and because of that, you’ll find the job you’re looking for and it’ll be a good one.
there was no swearing in my house. we weren’t allowed to say “hate” or tell anyone to “shut up”. I once heard my Dad say “Damnit” while using a hammer. “Naughty” words were met with my father saying “say, say, say. we don’t talk that way”. i know I will end up saying the same thing to my kids someday! Scary when we become our parents!
No, I enjoy these types of musings just as much!
Your stories are anything but boring!! I am sooooo glad to have found your blog, very entertaining.
Pantyhose SUCK.
Commence puppy kicking now.
Boy did my parents hate it when ‘schmuck’ became a cool slang word. But they went easy- we were way too young to know what it referred to, and no way was my mom going to say ‘penis’ us.
Poor mom.
*Sigh* A perfect solution to not only boring jobs, but insomnia!
This cracked me up, and brought me back to the days when a friend’s mom was told that we were caught yelling every obscenity in the book on the playground one day. She tried to convince us to replace them with “fudge” “shoot” and (I kid you not) “Oh, yinkie-binkie”!
Needless to say we decided that she was f’ing ridiculous as soon as she left the room.
Hey, I love your blog!
Girl Scout camp… so many memories. I did the same thing every time I knew someone’s real name.