Sometimes I think I talk too much. I will just keep going and going, until I finally hit on the right thing to say. The funniest thing to say. The thing that gets me noticed.
Sometimes I say things that are deliberately over-the-top, and I have convinced myself that I am just being open, or flippant, or sarcastic, that people know that about me.
But then sometimes I have to tell myself, “For God’s sake, BB, SHUT UP!”
Sometimes I think I explain too much, expect too much, feel too much. And then when I talk about this too much-ness, I feel foolish and young and hopelessly immature.
Sometimes I make myself cringe.
Sometimes - if I am feeling benevolent about myself - I know that I am intelligent, and curious and opinionated. I have things to say, interesting things to say, I think - I think a lot. I think too much, sometimes.
Many times.
Most of the time.
You know, they have medication for that sort of obsessiveness...
I read a lot. I think I do some cool stuff.
I? Can be a very interesting individual.
Sometimes I think the quiet people around me, the ones who don’t say much, who perhaps just smile, are – not dull, exactly, but just not QUICK.
But then I think, *they* are the ones who are calm and adult and self-confident enough to not have to be running their mouths continually. Who don’t have to try to be funny, to be the life of any gathering.
Other times I think, if I don’t talk, for God’s sake, who will? We can’t all just stand here and STARE at each other. Why wouldn’t we take advantage of the opportunity to converse with other smart and interesting people? Of course, not everyone else is stuck at home all day with baseball-obsessed five- and three-year-olds, and a nonverbal-as-yet toddler. Not everyone else is as desperate for adult conversation, meaningful dialogue, as I appear to be.
For someone who likes to be alone as much as I do, I certainly do seem to, if not require, at least greatly enjoy an appreciative audience.
Hey, you’re the one who’s still reading.
Thank God.
Someday I will grow up, I suppose.
At 36, I start to wonder when.
When I am grown-up, I will be confident and calm and sure of myself in many ways.
How very pleasant that will be.
14 comments:
Don't ever change. I'm a talker too (but most of it is drivel), and I've judged some of my quieter friends in the past for not being 'quick'. They have all surprised me. Just because they're not talking all the time, doesn't mean they're not thinking. I'd like to think a little more and talk a little less. But, people like us make for smooth social occasions and put other people at ease. I'm coming to see it as a gift not a curse:-)The ones I don't like are the people who use silence as a weapon. As in "i'm not saying anything, just letting you prattle on, filling in the quiet, and then I'll pounce when you say the wrong thing and skewer you". They are prize bitches. I'll stop now.
I recognize this I'm-a-talker feeling. I feel it too. Yeah, it can be awkward, but it's got its upside, too. I think we're not usually talking just cos we love the sound of our own voice. We're talking because we have something to say, right? This is because we're sensitive, perceptive people, IMHO. Also, IMHO, this impulse to say what's on our minds tends to go along with the impulse to blog or sing or paint or write letters to the editor or just generally speak truth to power, KWIM? That's a good thing!
It's funny, that feeling of not being a grown-up when by all objective measures you clearly are a grown-up. Do a lot of people feel that way? I know I do.
Oh yes. When I am a grown up I will be able to converse freely and intelligently in every social situation without going red or stuttering or sounding stupid.
(I will also not have cellulite, won't need as much sleep, and will look like Audrey Hepburn. When does this grown up thingy kick in?)
Cut from the same cloth, we are.
Anyways, women create endorphins when they talk, so I figure that's something good...
Okay, stump speechless--but it's Ocober, so that's my excuse.
Keep talking and writing, that's all I gotta say, so there. And about that "grown-up" thing--it's overrated.
Oh! *I* want to look like Audrey Hepburn too! Now I really want to grow up!
I still feel as if I am sixteen most days. But fatter.
I felt this way in my 30's, too.
And the reality? Looking back at the photos? I was my most beautiful in my mid to late 30's - even 40's. I think the insecurity of that age makes women very dear and sweet. They really have it all - beauty, experience, knowledge. But like most things in life, they don't believe it while living it!
And the beauty of being 50? Is being very very happy with oneself. Not caring so much what people think anymore. Glad to share what knowledge you've gleaned from life, and not afraid to speak of it. Having good faith in your own opinions and abilities. I am the strongest I've ever been in my life, physically and emotionally. I feel very lucky and grateful, too, which creates a sense of peace and well being.
I just wish I wouldn't have waited 'til I was near 50 to embrace my gifts and be happy with myself.
I feel 23 most days. But I am SO looking forward to being 50. "Youth is a mortal wound." (from Jacob Have I Loved by K. Paterson)
I babble like a brook when I finally get another adult within range. I sometimes annoy even myself with my chattiness, so I'm sure I annoy others.
As for being a grown up? Hasn't happened to me yet, either. I feel like a total fraud most days and I'm just waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and tell me there's been a mistake, that I'm not mature enough to have all this.
LC is right -- those of you who are chatty make for smooth social occasions. If it weren't for you everyone would just sit there looking at each other.
I loved my thirties -- my forties, not so much. Next year I will be fifty and I still don't feel like an adult.
Growing up is overrated. I've decided not to. It doesn't sound like much fun.
I also talk a lot in social situations AND I interrupt people and mimic their accents. Not on purpose, though. Just shut up! pretty much runs on a continuous loop in my head.
You are smart. You are interesting. You *don't* talk too much. And you're much more grown-up than I am.
So there!
You had me at hello.
I'll just say, "Ditto!" and leave it at that.
(OK, who am I kidding? I CAN'T leave it at that because I, too, am a yapper.)
(As if you couldn't tell.)
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