Perhaps the only time you can count on a New Yorker's mouth being open without words coming out is at the dentist. And so it was as I sat for an hour while cute and single Dr. Michael Apa bleached my teeth and I tried to make legible sentences all the while staring at the beautiful ceiling with pastel Fragonard-ish birds and flowers.
It actually gave me time to think about my life and imagine what it would be like if people thought before they talked - me included. It had been a complicated week reinforcing my belief that there is no such thing as a sisterhood in New York City. Don't beat me up for saying this but we are all gossips here letting drop morsels that can wreck and ruin lives just like a crumb that drops on a rug only to be stepped on and ground deeper.
In between meditating and enjoying myself while I listened to dental muzack - and by the way you have the option to watch dvd's of your choice while getting worked on -- I thought about killing the messengers who deliver bad news to you. Tell me the motive behind someone repeating to you what someone else has said - unless it's fantastic news, of course and how often does that happen? And I want to understand why some people get away with being the messenger without being murdered?
I have always been outspoken and quite honest and though it's amusing, it's not very smart; my remarks are often repeated and always attributed so I become the bad guy. It's tough being clever and amusing because you're encouraged to entertain and then you're blamed. Meanwhile there are those ladies in New York, who dine out on what you've said and though echoing your sentiments, get to say, "Betsy says...." So my lesson now is hold tight to my thoughts before they exit my mouth. My role in life is not to be the entertainment and I don't need to fill in blank spaces of air time anymore; if I have evil thoughts about people, I'll share them with someone who can't repeat - my chihuahua or maybe someone totally non English speaking.
So maybe the idea of keeping one's mouth open without words exiting is a good exercise. I did end up with gorgeous white teeth, and I didn't say anything I'd regret later on except maybe, as I shared with Dr. Apa, that I long to have teeth like Jessica Simpson. He politely winced and said the goal these days was simply to look like a younger and better version of yourself.
So white teeth and a new outlook on life isn't bad for one hour. Wonder what else I can do if I don't talk anymore?