Not So Mellow Yellow

We painted our house. Rather, I helped power wash, scrape, and tape and my husband painted the house. It's Hawaiian Pineapple yellow. I'm not one for subtle color choices. I've always wanted a yellow house. Yellow houses are happy, adorable, and quaint little abodes that express charm and personality. Some of the most surprising reactions to our color choice are as follows:

1. When he finished the east side of the house, I took out the trash and admired the color in the bright sun. I promptly sneezed. I sneeze in bright light. I sneeze after being in a dark move theater. I sneeze if someone's headlights are too bright on the highway. I found it highly entertaining that our new house color made me sneeze. I repeated this reaction on subsequent attempts to enjoy the new color.

When your sneeze is powerful enough to create an uplifting experience for your buddy.

2. Our neighbor two doors down came to admire our house. She introduced herself and we chitchatted about how much she respected our work ethic and our color choice. She loves yellow. Of course, then she proceeded to proselytize for her Baptist church which has apparently been newly renovated and is just down the street. *sigh

Goat giving side eye because he can't believe you went there.

3. Another neighbor who was driving down the street stopped to talk to my husband about the color. He opened with, "Let me guess: your wife chose the color?" When my husband confirmed the assumption, the man grumpily stated, "I hate yellow," at which point my husband disengaged and went back to work. The man drove off. Wow.  Today he drove by and gave a friendly smile and wave to my husband, so I guess it wasn't personal. Maybe just expressing his deep sympathy for my husband's arduous task of dealing with such a terrible hue as yellow.

You're absolutely right, bro. It's awful. Let's go tell my wife to change it.

4. My husband posted updates on his Facebook about our progress. He showed pictures of the post wash/scrape endeavors. Then he posted each side as it got coated in yellow paint. When he posted the final picture, we got a lot of"Good jobs" and "Looks great!" However, one person he knows who used to live by him growing up expressed her sympathy for our neighbors. She took some heat from some friends of ours. Then she said that sometimes we're too close and love something so much we can't see how ugly it really is. This incurred more bulldog support from our other friends. Seriously--it was this huge FB argument over the color of our house. I made jokes about it. My husband said he wanted to put googly eyes on it, which I granted so long as he put feathers on the chimney like Big Bird. Needless to say, the opposition got irate and eventually called people names until my hubby shut her down. Over. A. Yellow. House.

Oh. You think our house is ugly? This is what I think of your opinion.

So, what have I learned about yellow houses? They force sneezes from my nose. They encourage our neighbors to save our souls, commiserate over spousal choices, as well as argue ridiculously and meanly online. It also prompted some rather amusing Sponge Bob jokes like "Does Patrick live down the street?" and "Who lives in a pineapple just down the street?" Whatever people's reactions, they are theirs and theirs alone. I will take the sneezes and the Sponge Bob jokes, but the rest shall run off my shoulders like so much rain. I've got bigger fish to fry in life than worry about the color of my neighbor' houses.

To Give a Fuck Freely

I enjoy swearing. I find it useful and I do not get offended easily by cussing such as shit, hell, damn, or fuck. I don't even mind the occasional cunt comment in conversation or media. I do mind when someone tries to judge me or shame me for my word choice because I have yet to meet someone who condemns swearing for reasons other than personal beliefs that are contradicted by actual evidence.

I'd need a much larger jar.

Earlier this week, my belly dance instructor approached me. After the last restaurant performance, she asked the two who were with her about creating a possible code of conduct so to speak. Essentially, do I think it's necessary and would I have any input? I could see it as a guideline for anyone who wants to move up to the level of dancing at the restaurant. I know it would've helped me with things like costumes and other etiquette that I had to learn along the way; however, my instructor mentioned in particular swearing and how one of my fellow dancers needs to stop the cussing.

This is the same person who argued with my husband that "retard" is an acceptable synonym for stupid.

Here is where I acknowledge her point of view: It is a business she runs. When we go to class, we are in her business space which she rents from a local museum. Museum staff and other members of the public could pop in at any point. My instructor's 13 year old daughter is also a part of classes and other people have brought their children to classes before. Consequently, I totally get needing to monitor our language. It wouldn't be a positive image for someone to come check out the belly dance scene and hear us talking like proverbial sailors. Parents of children present have a right to request that we watch our language as by law, swearing at or around children is considered abuse. The same holds for any time we are representing the dance group at community events and especially at the restaurant. We must create a professional and classy image to dispel the myth of belly dance being in any way vulgar. BTW, if you've seen vulgar belly dance, then I am truly sorry. What you saw was likely a bastardization of the dance rather than a form of artistry.

This is not belly dance. If you equate belly dance to burleseque or exotic dancing, then you need to Google Ruby Beh, Silvia Salamanca, or Tito Seif.

Anyway, my instructor believes that how we speak is a reflection on our reputation, on the troupe, and on her. I agree to a point. I raised the idea that while I believe that time and place and behavior are indeed important to our mission as a troupe, when I'm on my own time at a house party or even in the community, I can engage in some tirades of the tongue; just because that may get back to her does not mean it's her business nor does it follow that she needs to intercede or "handle" the situation. I was really interested where she was going with establishing a boundary for the proposed code. She made the comparison to the guards at Arlington Cemetary who follow a code their entire lives and if they disparage that code, then they relinquish their title and honor in the guard.

I shit you not. She compared our duty as members of the troupe to Arlington Cemetary guards.

We are not military. We are not honor bound in that way. Furthermore, I will not give up my right to freefloating cursing to her for any kind of sanitizinging, permission, or censorship outside of my role as a belly dancer. I am, as are my fellow dancers, an adult. She did mention that she has no intention of being our mommy or policing us, but at the same time, why bring up the Arlington reference?

She also mentioned in what I interpreted as a wee bit snooty and judgey tone that if I choose to cuss, it reflects on me. She continued that she believes as her grandfather taught her that people swear when they lack other vocabulary for the situation. She feels that when she has resorted to swearing it was because she was acting like a moron. I'd kind of like to see that actually, but that's a different tale to follow.

You know if we could understand them, these two are not avoiding the expletives.

"You're my bitch now, Mousie."

"Holy shit! Where's Dangermouse when you fucking need him?"

I completely disagree with her on all these points. My vocabulary reflects on me negatively only if I cannot change it to reflect the setting and purpose. I do not swear openly at class for the reasons included previously in this post. I do not swear freely at work because that would be unprofessional and a violation of the behavior expected of someone in my position. I would curtail my cursing out of respect for my instructor and her business so that the image people have of us as dancers is positive. Furthermore, read any studies on linguistics lately and you will discover that they have found swearing is part of a complete, well-balanced vocabulary. In fact, people who swear more have higher vocabulary usage and fluency according to Stephanie Hayes at The Atlantic. In her article from January/February 2016 "A Strategic Guide to Swearing," that using swear words " is not the result of a limited vocabulary or a lack of imagination." Additionally, "casual" cursing actually serves a purpose by being the right word for the right context. We don't swear because we don't have other wording; we swear because those are the words that our language has to fit that emotion or situation. If I'm really hopping mad about something, I know that swearing my ass off is a great way to vent. My cats probably could tell you stories of my dastardly creativity when it comes to configuring variations of the word fuck in particular. Moreover, swearing is also connected with increased pain tolerance,  improving morale among coworkers,  and enhancing persuasion in some settings including politics.

Let's not forget funny. Castiel trying to swear during this scene makes me laugh every time. It's iconic in the Supernatural fandom for a reason.

Scientific American also took up this issue in the article "Is Swearing a Sign of Limited Vocabulary" by PIercarlo Valdesolo. I encourage you to read the whole thing, but in short. No.

Absofuckinglutely no, sprinkling your conversation with intermittent shits or damns or bloody hells does not indicate any kind of dysfunction with your intelligence, creativity, or vocabulary. The article goes so far as to say that "a fluency with taboo words might be a sign of general verbal fluency" up to and including "exceptionally vulgar" word choice with being "exceptionally eloquent and intelligent". After three studies of verbal fluency, the data did not support the assumption that swearing is an indicator of anything other than a person's ability to choose words for certain and correct circumstances even if someone may consider the cussing less acceptable than any other verbiage. The author stated that cussing can be "creative, smart and even downright lyrical."

C'mon! Be honest. Who can deny the musciality of "Shut your fucking face, uncle fucker"?

Along with those articles, Tiffanie Wen writes for BBC Future and notes further fascinating facts in her article "The Surprising Benefits of Swearing." Not only does she point out the function of swearing as having a positive impact on pain tolerance and persuasion, but also that in some situations it might actually bond people together. The article refers to a case in New Zealand where members of the same work group swore more with each other, but less with members from other work groups. When we are comfortable and familiar with our surroundings and people, we tend to swear. The article also points out that it's not true that Japan has no swear words. A variety of terms for sex and poopoo exist as do a plethora of ways to insult one another making the way Westerners swear at one another largely unnecessary. Japanese apparently has far more options for being crude than English does. We English speakers are clearly shitty at swearing and need to stop our damnable slacking.

This goat's too tired to gratify your need for new curse words.

Cocksucker. Let me sleep.

With all this evidence, I reject anyone's assumption that my swearing or anyone else's for that matter is shameful or indicating a lack of intelligence or vocabulary. I took that FB quiz and my vocabulary is at about 30, 0000 thank you. My IQ is well above average. With all that taken together, I know when to let loose the fucks and when not to. I know when and what curse word best suits my purpose whether it's bitching or boasting. I have fun creating inventive variations of swear words like "fucksticks and lollipops!" Even though I know that words invoke literal and connotative or even deeply personal reactions, I will freely offer my fucks, my shits, my bastards, and my bloody fuckin' hells when I deem it suitable whether my instructor or anyone of her ilk chooses to look down their noses at me or not. Fuck 'em.