I solemnly swear

I have never really been big on swearing... until now.  In my adult life I have finally been counted among the ranks that use "fuck" to punctuate their every day vernacular.  I honestly, don't know what has come over me.   I used to have this theory that you never really learn to swear, until you learn to drive.  Part of me still believes that this is true.  Yet, I have always had some sort of weird relationship with swearing - it's almost as if I'm getting away with something.  Maybe I am?

It's not that I came from a family that doesn't allow you to swear.  In fact, my grandfather quite possibly swears more than anyone I know.  I do know that I learned the word "shit" from him at a considerably young age.  To this day it is probably my favorite swear word to use, and comes out of my mouth more than I'd like to admit.  If James Lipton asked me my favorite swear word, I'd definitely answer with "shit." However, "shit" is not my issue of late.  I'm fine saying this word.  To me the "sh-word" isn't really swearing anymore.  It's quite useful, and to me, not at all offensive.  I have a very different take on the word "fuck."

There is something so powerful with The F-word.  It connotates a type of whirring of feeling and energy that no other word in our language implies.  You know someone thinks they're a bad-ass if they say "fuck" a lot (they aren't).  Still whenever I say it, I feel like something all mighty is looking down upon me, shaking their finger and saying "no, no, no."  And now, I think that my saying that word too often has become a problem.

I should probably tell the story of how I came to know the elusive "f-word."  My parents were never really big on not using the word.  I knew an "f-word" existed, but it remained this untapped, sparkly, pot-of-gold-at-the-end-of-a-rainbow mystery to me. Until my first day of kindergarten... or so I thought. 

I galloped off to school with anxious combustible excitement as any precocious five-year-old would.  I was gearing up to take on the world, and proud of it.  Having already learned to read a few years before, I was ready for anything.  Yet, I don't think my mom expected to hear what I had learned when I came home from school.  After my first day, I remember running up the stairs to my front porch filled with glee like I had eaten 15 jellybeans and couldn't wait to tell everyone I knew about it (I probably did eat 15 jellybeans that day, knowing me).  I had had found the knowledge of something I had been wanting to learn for as long as I knew it existed... The F-word.   

So, I ran up to the front door, flung it open with gusto, and proclaimed "I know the F-word!"  I don't know of any mother who wants to hear from their child that the very first thing they learned on their very first day of Kindergarten is "The f-word."  My mom, the proper calm person that she is, leaned down and asked me incredulously, "well what is it?"  I looked up at her beaming... "It's fart!"  My mom chuckled to herself and said, "yes, Elana, the f-word is 'fart.'"

I know what many of you are probably thinking... How has a five-year-old never heard the word "fart" before? Well, I hadn't.  I knew this wonderful and mature word as "tooting" or "dropping cookies," or something random in Yiddish that I can't remember.  "Fart" was completely new jargon for me.  Yet, I only thought this was "The F-word" for only a little while longer.  After the second day of school, I stomped into my house, with my hands on my hips and looked at my mom as said, "Now, I really know The F-word."  My mother groaned to herself.  The damage had been done.

Today, many people think that I still don't swear.  I know that I put up the image of a goodie-goodie preppy, who tries to do what's right.  And to some extent people are correct on that assumption.  I am "a Jackie" after all.  Yet, I'll drop an f-bomb when I think it's necessary.  Which, these days is too much.

Unfortunately, I also have this bizarre uncanny ability to swear at my worst in front of children.  Without fail, I'll say the worst shit in front people who I subconsciously know it will offend.  I see a stroller, and "mother f-er" will fly out of my mouth.  I see a cute pre-schooler with ringlets, I'll drop 4 or 5 f-bombs in one sentence.  There's a class of kids walking through the park, I probably will say someone is being a "C U Next Tuesday" or something (I still detest that word).  I have a sickness, and it has to be remedied. 

So, today I proclaim that I am now getting onto the no swearing wagon.  I'm going to quit.  Or at least attempt to.  Perhaps, all I really need is to drop the word "fart" instead.

Until next time,

Elana