Don't speak now

Every once in a while, I think everyone could benefit from a muzzle.

I often find myself saying things and then stepping back and thinking, "Did that really just come out of my mouth?" These are usually moments when I say something really ditzy—a role I really don't like to play. I mean, I don't want to sound like I belong in the movie "Clueless" or "Mean Girls," which, by the way, happen to be rather quality movies. I need to add "Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion" to that list, as well. It's a highly quotable movie—mostly because half of the things that you can quote only make sense in Barbie's world, where education is optional.


Sometimes I should not be allowed to talk.



Then there are moments where I say things that I immediately want to take back because they aren't very nice. When you are angry or frustrated in situations, it's so easy for emotions to get the best of us and let our mouths run amuck. I'm sure some people have more control over there tongues, and props to them for that, but some of us really do need to stop, breathe, count to 14, then just not say anything. My mom always used too tell me the trite advice: "If you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all." While I definitely can't say I adhere to that all of the time, I think it would be wise to follow in certain instances.

I can't even count how many times I said mean things to family members when we got into arguments while we were growing up. My sister and I still do it sometimes. Then, one of us comes back into the room with that "I'm-so-guilty-and-really-don't-want-to-apologize-to-you-but-I-really-have-to-because-I-missed-talking-to-you-these-past-27-minutes" look on her face, and the other knows what's coming.

"I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."


Why is it so hard to admit that we didn't mean something? Oh, maybe it's because we realize that we let our mouths run a bit too freely again, and we don't have as much control over our tongues as we thought we did.


Ugh. I had defeat—especially when it's my own.


"Nobody makes me bleed my own blood." Chalk that up as another quote that really should have had more thought put into it before it was said. Good movie, though.

I think one setting where it's really easy to say things that don't carry much value with them are at sporting events. I mean, how many of us have caught ourselves yelling things at opponents, refs or even the players we love so dearly simply because we get caught up in the moment? I know I'm guilty of this. I would never talk that way to people in a normal conversation, but I will surely yell to a player that he's a "talentless flopper who should take a bus back to dirty San Antonio." (For those in confusion, I am referring to Manu Ginobli.) I can't even begin to spout off all of the nasty things I've said about Tim Duncan, Tom Brady, the entire New York Yankees organization, TCU sports, Barry Bonds, Warren Sapp--the list just goes on! And some of the players I've disliked the most have been ones whom I've really come to find quite entertaining in their post-playing careers (i.e. Charles Barkley and Reggie Miller).


My most recent "oops" moment actually didn't even happen, thankfully. I was at a hockey game with LizRaz, Plankton and Mama Parsons on Sunday, and the refs were really frustrating me with their lack of calls against the other team. I mean, sure, the team had already had numerous infractions that resulted in two-minute penalties, but some of the foul plays they were ignoring were worse than the ones that they actually called against a pretty dirty team. Yes, this was a recreational league. Still, you have to make those calls. I said some things directed at the other team that I guarantee I wasn't thinking earlier that morning at church.

After the game, we were walking past the ref's room, and I was about to say something rather snide to Olson, the ref who stuck his tongue out at us at the end of the game, when he stepped out with a bunch of pink/red/black beaded bracelets in his hands.

Olson appears to have a side hobby.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said as he let us choose which ones we wanted to adorn our wrists. He had made them himself. Wow, I felt like such a jerk. Imagine how awful it would have been if I had said something to him about his inability to see a dirty hit if it slapped him in the face! I mean, this guy was a decent old man who is just like all of us: imperfect. Sure, he's going to mess up every once in a while when he's out there on the ice. I should have been complimenting him on the good calls that he did make, combined with his talent to stay on his feet the entire time. I'm not sure that even my Phiten would keep me from combing the ice with my face plants.


Thank you, Olson.


I had joked with Plankton during the game that he needed a muzzle, but I think it's pretty clear that we all need them in our rashest of moments. So, pause, count to 14, and see if what you were about to say is really the best idea. Because once you let them leave your mouth, there's no turning back.

Just make sure whatever leaves that trap isn't something that will get you in a trap later.