A loose-lipped scribe needs mental Kaopectate for her Writerrhea
by Lindsay Ferrier
For as long as I've known her, my mother has had an incurable, untreatable disease, one that often causes great embarrassment when she's out in public. I'm not aware of the medical term for what she's got; I've always called it Footinthemouthitis.
One outbreak happened in Scotland, where Hubs and I got married. The morning after our wedding night, we met up with both sets of our parents, who were eating together in the hotel dining room.
"So?" my mom asked expectantly once we were seated at their table. I stared at her blankly. "How was it?" she continued, with the most innocent of smiles.
I nearly choked on my blood pudding.
Another episode that's now legendary in my family occurred when mom and I visited a restroom together and entered side-by-side stalls. I finished quickly, making way for another woman who was waiting outside. My mom didn't realize someone else had taken my place.
When the woman began to rather noisily go about her business, Mom, one stall over, suffered from yet another Footinthemouthitis attack.
"Oh my!" she remarked loudly. "Did you order beans or something?"
I stood outside the stalls with my mouth open while she continued commenting on the sounds coming from what she thought was my stall. I wish you could have seen her face when she opened her door, saw me standing at the sinks, and realized she'd been remarking on the bathroom habits of a complete stranger.
I tell you all this only because I'm convinced that I suffer from a variation of my mom's illness. In my case, I'd call it Writerrhea, because while I manage to say all the right things in public, I constantly embarrass myself on the page. And the fallout never ends.
"You'll never guess what just happened," Hubs hissed at me on the phone a few weeks ago. "I was in line at the Kroger deli when the woman in front of me turned around and said, 'Tell your wife the Book Bully says hello!' "
"Heh," I laughed nervously. I had written a column a few months earlier about my own particular Book Bully, a librarian at my local branch, but honestly, I tried to stay vague enough that every mean librarian in town would think I was talking about her. I liked to think I was providing a public service to beleaguered library patrons citywide.
"Did she seem mad?" I asked in a small voice.
"Did she seem mad?!" he scoffed. "Are you kidding? Of course she seemed mad!"
Maybe she'd have felt more charitable if she'd known about my Writerrhea.
Then there was the time I wrote about entering a restroom right after Martina McBride, only to find that the toilet hadn't been flushed. McToiletgate, as it would come to be known, stirred up a viper's nest of agitated publicists, producers and promoters, who proceeded to leave me angry messages on my answering machine for the next three weeks.
This being Nashville, it wasn't too long after that column came out that I took my kids to a children's crafting program at Warner Park, where I was joined by two other moms and their children. Wouldn't you know it, one of the mothers was Martina herself.
For an entire hour, we sat stone-faced across from each other at a toddler-sized table, while our children colored beside us. But Martina said nothing. She didn't go to the bathroom, either, in case you were wondering.
Worst of all is when my Writerrhea affects my own family, like the time I wrote a piece for Her Nashville magazine about getting a very—shall we say—involved type of bikini wax.
Honestly, I didn't think twice about writing the piece. Tons of women get waxed down there, and even more wonder what it's like and are too afraid to find out. But from the reaction I've gotten, you'd think I'd admitted to owning a collection of clown porn.
Hubs complained of enduring more than a few smirking comments about the column at work. But it wasn't until I paid my parents a visit that things really got itchy.
"I can't believe you wrote about getting a Brazilian," my mother giggled as we were chatting in the kitchen.
"One of my partners wanted to know what a Brazilian was," my father said sternly from across the room. That's when I turned pale. Dad is a venerable Southern doctor and an elder at his church.
"Writerrhea," I whispered. Surely the physician in him could sympathize.
So the next time I write something that rubs you the wrong way, don't get mad. Pity me.
It's totally beyond my control.
Read more Suburban Turmoil at www.suburbanturmoil.com.
Comments (27)
Showing 1-25 of 27
I guess you've convinced yourself that you're clever, or witty, or something, so that it justifies the shit that your scribble. That's right, scribble. Because even if you type this shit, it's still scribble. Who in the good Jesus Christ, do you think you are? What gives you the right to say this shit? If you're going to have this platform, and God only knows why anyone would waste their time reading this shit,You might TRY to feel some responsibility towards - oh, I don't know - children, perhaps? Get a fucking real job, because you're wasting your time and everyone elses with this shit. Exactly honey - shit. I can only pray that I won't run into this shit again. It's a great big internet out there, and it's just too bad that it'll never be big enough for there to be a useful place in it for your shit. You're an asshole. Get the fuck over yourself.
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yikes the fan mail you must recive! Even if "Mike Stand" doesn't enjoy your writing I generally do and I hope you don't get too discouraged by the haters. hattahall.blogspot.com
Wow, someone must have held a gun to Mike's head to make him read the article. I love your writing, I look forward to starting each day off with a dose of Ms Ferrier! Keep it up. Plus- there is the added bonus of ticking off morons like Mr Stand!
In the Navy we have a saying "Diarrhea of the mouth”. I think Mike just might have caught that someplace. I like his comment about what give you the right to say this “shit”. Yea... failed history did you? Hey Mike, the village called. They want you back.
I too have verbal diarrhea, I totally sympathize with your mom. although it seems like the gallant Mike Stand has a worse case than the three of us combined. I've been reading your work (blog mostly) for a long time, and finally decided it was time to comment...Those of us with similar afflictions should stand together.
Could Mike Stand possibly be the Starbucks guy? What we do know is that he has an amazing vocabulary and no anger management issues of which to speak! I recently started reading your column and blog, and I enjoy them both. Keep up the Writerrhea! http://urbanowl.wordpress.com/
I literally laughed out loud!!! What I admire about you, Lindsay, is your transparency. Your honesty. I think that authenticity is essential to good writing. Sometimes I wish I had a little bit more Writerrhea--didn't care so much what others thought. But I have a bit more anonymity than you. People don't recognize my husband at Kroger. :) Anyway, keep doing what you're doing. I always enjoy your column and blog. (And your mom sounds hilarious!) http://www.writingmomof3.com
I call it diarrhea of the mouth, but ya know, from one to another, I feel ya. ;) http://mandiesmumblings.blogspot.com
Oh my. Although, I do sympathize with your mom, a bit. Sometimes the voices in my head accidently trigger the "outside" of my head voice, to my utter embarrassment. Writerrhea, though...by nature and by training (I'm a cpa), I'm reluctant to put anything in writing that may incriminate me at some future date. I have to say I do self edit (even in my handwritten, personal journal, in spite of the fact I live alone and there is NO chance anyone will ever see it). http://www.quiltbabe8.blogspot.com/
Try simply updating your myspace/facebook status to say that you took your daughter to the LOCAL park, then go pick up your step son a day later and his mom has told him we didn't bother to invite him and we don't treat him like he's part of our family. I guess we all have to be careful of what we write these days. www.brookeblogsthis.blogspot.com
Oh my. I do feel your pain. I remember the first time someone local stopped me to tell me they loved reading my blog.. I had no idea what to say, because well, she was a church going woman and I cuss like a sailor! (and much more inventively than Mr. Stand!) She still reads today, so I guess I'm doing something right! :) http://parentingteensblog.net
I understand! It just can't be helped. Sometimes good stories MUST be repeated! www.bpeight.blogpot.com
We creative nonfiction writers have to stick together--and stick to our confessional convictions. If we don't tell it like it is--bikini wax and all--who the hell will? * Wilson author, Not Quite What I Expected www.NotQuiteWhatIExpected.net
You make me laugh. I always wonder how people can write about their in laws the way they do. Do their in laws NOT have the internet? I'm jealous. I would have the BEST stories if I could freely write about comments from my in laws! But alas my MIL checks my blog 100 thousand times a day waiting for an update! :) Keep up the Writerrhea - it makes me day so many days! http://hermanfamdam.blogspot.com/
I live in a small town now, and I WISH I could write the things you do--I would definitely be hated! But I love what you write, and often find myself echoing a silent, "yeah!" when I read. You are wonderful to take and embrace the responsibility for writerrhea, so the rest of us don't have to! :) rachel http://rachelboldman.blogspot.com
Hilarious, as always Lindsay. Love it, love it. www.revandthemissus.blogspot.com (my new blog)
Umm. . .yeah, I do it all the time, in my writing, in talking to people. I tend to over share much to the chagrin of my mother. Seriously, you want to see my surgery pictures? Here they are! Want to talk about poop? I am your girl! And some days I wonder why I am still single. I just don't know when to keep my trap shut! www.growingupandtryingtogetitright.wordpress.com
Goodness, Mike is having a shitty day I'd say. What a dumbass. Anyhoo, I found it to be funny especially the part about your mother. Oh the embarrassment to be had. But what is life if not a little bit of fun and laughs along the way? Really Mike, you must have flushed your sense of humor a long time ago....Thanks for the keeping the humor alive Lindsay!
McToiletgate? I'm STILL laughing about that! :P http://terradisephotography.blogspot.com/
Over the years I've suffered from saying exactly what is on my mind to my boss, in front of everyone and it's gotten me in trouble more then once (I'm going on one full year since the last one so maybe I've recovered). It's painful, really painful. http://sprocketswife.blogspot.com/
Oh and I used to be appalled by the comments from Nashville folks but now I've come to expect an irrational overly dramatic response in the comments. Good job there Mike, only wish you had a blog so we could continue to read about life from your perspective.
If you've got a disease, let others be so cursed! Your incurable honesty is what makes you fun to read. I'm sorry for anyone who doesn't see it that way. Their loss! http://jacoblawrencenewman.blogspot.com/
I guess Mike likes to say the word "shit" a lot, huh? Good grief! {eye roll} I adore what you write, Linds, and funnily enough, I have the exact OPPOSITE issue - I write better than I speak. I censor myself in the written sense, backspace, delete, rewrite, think, rethink, then post. Speaking, however, if only I could mull over what I say before saying it a bit, I tend to ramble. Heh. Great post, as usual.
