Thursday, October 28, 2010

Holding my tongue

I think that one advantage that kids have over adults is that they typically feel freer to say exactly what they're thinking. For example, you usually don't hear adults say stuff like, "You're mean! I hate you!" or "You look like the monster hiding under my bed!" or "Your voice is so weird that even Alvin and the Chipmunks would laugh at you!"

But most adults aren't like that. We don't always say what we think, because we don't want to hurt other people's feelings. Or maybe it's because we're afraid of what others will think of us. Once we say it out loud, we can't take it back.

Here are a few examples of things that I was thinking over the past few days and wished I could have said out loud, but I didn't.

To the guy who sat next to me on the train:
Me: Wow, it's really crowded today. Everyone on the train is squished together. I'm just going to move over to this other seat.

What I wanted to say: Looks like someone needs to trim his nosehairs. And by the way? Unless you want to get slapped with your own hand, you'll stop pressing your leg against mine.

To the neighbor who left three loads of laundry in three dryers for more than two hours after the loads were completed, thus preventing me from using any of them.
Me: I was wondering whose laundry that was. I've been waiting for a while to use the dryers, and I really need to get my own laundry done.

What I wanted to say: Do you want your laundry to be thrown out on the front lawn? Because it will happen if you do this again.

To the barista taking my drink order at Starbucks:
Me: I'll take a Frappuccino and a doughnut, please.

What I wanted to say: I really want two doughnuts, but I'm afraid that you and the customers will be silently judging me for eating too much. And then I'll never be able to come back to this Starbucks again and I'll start having nightmares of people throwing doughnuts at me.

To the female acquaintance showing me her new outfit:
Me: What a nice shirt! I think it looks great.

What I wanted to say: Richard Simmons called. He wants his shirt back.

To the cute guy standing behind me in line at the grocery store:
Me: (nothing)

What I wanted to say: I really wish I wasn't holding a copy of Cosmopolitan right now. You didn't, uh, read the headlines on it, did you? Because I'm just buying this for the, uh, fashion tips. I wish there was a way to discreetly turn to the article in here on how to talk to cute guys without making them think I have "issues".

To the guy talking to his friends as I was walking by:
Guy: And there are all these people doing Satan's bidding right here on Earth! (I swear I'm not making that line up.)

Me: (nothing)

What I wanted to say: Does watching the Jersey Shore count as doing Satan's bidding? Because if that's the case, then I'm definitely going to hell.

What about you? Is there anything that you wish you could say out loud?

The amazing writer and blogger Lisa Maliga's new book, Notes from Nadir, is now out on Kindle! Be sure to check it out. I've included's description of her book below:

Notes from Nadir is Lisa Maliga's fictionalized tale of discovering that the past is never quite through with you -- even if you think it is. She's a determined writer who leaves her Midwestern home to become a Hollywood screenwriter. After years of working a series of temp jobs and almost making it in Los Angeles, financial troubles force her return to the flyover country she's renamed Nadir.

Lisa moves in with her ailing Mom, tries to find work, meets her relatives, and attempts to adapt to a much smaller city filled with memories of her younger, more hopeful self.

If noon is Zenith then Nadir is 6:30. And it was 6:29 and counting down. Way down.

For more information on Lisa's book and how to access it through Kindle, check out her blog.

Also check out Theresa Milstein's Halloween Haunting, where you'll get the chance to win a free book, read new blogs, and get new followers!


  1. Hello! I'm over from Theresa's Happy Haunting. Nice to meet you. I'll be back later to follow as the blogger button doesn't seem to be working right now. Happy Haunting!

  2. Hi there! I'm also haunting your blog from Theresa's :-) This post is hilarious. My rage and inner monologue come out most when I ride my bike to and from work through New York City. I play out entire conversations/screaming fights in my head with the following: police officers who park in the bike lane, bikers who ride the wrong way in the bike lane, and pedestrians who stop in the bike lane. I have bike lane issues...

  3. Hi Talei,
    Thanks for stopping by my blog! Nice to meet you too! I like this happy haunting idea; it's interesting.

    Hi Melissa,
    Wow, all those people in the bike lane would be annoying. I admire you for riding your bike through New York City. I wish I could do that here in Chicago, but I'm kind of scared to, partly because the roads are usually icy during the winter and I'm afraid I might fall or something.

  4. Love love LOVE the Richard Simmons comment! haha!

    I have Lisa's book on my Kindle and I really enjoyed it!

  5. Hi Talli,
    Thanks! I think Richard Simmons might not like it, though. :) I must admit, though, I did own one of his workout videos , tee hee.

  6. I cam e over from Theresa's Halloween haunting. This made me giggle. I ride but not bikes. Horses. We live in the country. So far in the country, they have to pipe the sunshine in. :)

  7. I hopped over from the Halloween Haunting, too. I'm always keeping my tongue in check and it makes me appear really shy and awkward. I wish I had the courage to just say what I thought but I do care about others' feelings and sometimes thinking it is just as bad as saying it.

    Life can be so political.

  8. Hi E. Elle,
    Welcome to my blog! I wish I had the courage to say what I think too. I like your phrase "Life can be so political"; I think it's right on. And I don't even know anything about politics. :)

  9. Hi Robyn,
    I'm jealous that you get to ride horses; I've only ever gone horseback riding once, when I was eight. I think if I could ride a horse to school it'd make the commute a lot more fun.