The pen is mightier then the sword?

I must say that although I have always been one of those annoying talkers -- you know the ones that tell you their life story within 2 seconds of meeting them. The ones that talk to much you want to staple their lips together -- that I am NOT someone who can verbally explain my feelings.

My mother always said that on paper I had a way with words that was incomparable to anything or anyone she's ever encountered. My sense of humor and perspective on the world are so different from the norm that if I were to express some of the thoughts that come to my mind out loud I'd either be labeled a geek, freak or sent in for a psychiatric evaluation.

I mean come on, who else (other than Two) uses the phrase Monkey Butt as much as I do?

I write this now because while I have an appointment next week to receive a referral to a counselor, I wonder if "talking" about my feeling is going to really help me.

In the past month or so I've been writing on this blog, I have had more relief, laughter, tears and support than I think I ever had in my life.

The people who read my crazy ramblings "get" me.

There aren't any fake smiles with blank eyes. Smug looks meant to say "she is such a loser" There aren't the people who claim to be here for you only to be the first to gossip.

But the one thing I love most about writing is there is an edit button. I can go over my thoughts before letting the world know them. Thus saving me from some pretty embarrassing moments.

Have you ever witnessed someone erupt in a display of verbal sewage?
It's quite a site.

It's like pulling the cork out of a farting elephant's rear. You're not quite sure why you did it, but all of your attempts to correct the situation either leave you stinking so bad even the flies won't touch you, or backpedaling so fast you find yourself in another zip code.

That's perhaps why I've never felt "at home" with any type of women's group. Despite claiming they are here to support and accept you I feel they are a lot of times a front for those who have nothing better to do than label, manipulate or ostracize anyone who isn't part of the "norm." The people who never left high school behind.

One wrong move, one awkward pause after an awkward sentence and the damage is done.

So in the end I DO think the pen is mightier than the sword.
Why? Because while I may in person sounds like Gomer Pyle's "special" cousin, on paper I'm kicking monkey butt and taking names.

On a lighter note, David decided to pursue his dream of becoming the next Picasso/Miami Ink protegee.

Luckily it wasn't permanent.