frontal lobeThis entire blog displays perfectly why this title fits. It, in and of itself is a frontal lobe paroxysm. Luckily, I  have some really great friends who tell me to blow off these little fits…heck, they even tell me that they are part of why I am so lovable. I tell you this, after becoming entrenched in one or two I don’t think they  make me very lovable.

So, what am I even talking about when I say “frontal lobe paroxysm”?

I am like a big overgrown puppy dog. You know what happens when a puppy dog gets their brain wrapped into something, even if it is as dumb as a tennis ball. They are coo-coo for coco puffs. They cannot stop. They are on it. They act up and misbehave in the name of this idea they have. Well, that is me. When I get my brain dug into an idea in a certain sort of way, I start blabbing about it. Not necessarily to other people, like gossip, but to the actual person who the conversation is with.  I talk and talk and talk about it until there is nothing left to regurgitate except embarrassing, inappropriate and idiotic things. It is like I have Tourrette’s, or something. I am always shocked what might come out of my mouth. Further, it could be about something as mundane as my father’s work history or it could be something that tickles me so much that I am awash in delight. Either way, when the frontal lobe paroxysm kicks in, I am in embarrassing trouble because I am, literally, transfixed on that topic, unable to break away.

Today it happened.

It happened with something I didn’t want it to happen about and with someone I didn’t want it to happen with. To be fair, there are only a hand full of people that I could care less if this happened with. They are all people I have no embarrassment in front of and who would have no problem telling me to shut the fuck up if they didn’t want to hear it. It is like I blow my load the first second I stick it in. (that was dreadfully inappropriate, but right on the

The worst part is that there is a perfectly inverse relationship to how much I want to impress a person and whether or not this terrible thing is going to happen. There have been times when this has happened that are so memorable that I remember them 25 years later. My friend Alex and her boyfriend had to experience one around 1992 that I will never forget for its insanity.

Today, it started out safe and sane and I got really lame, really quick. I poured out life histories that were bent to this particular tic in my head. After I said things like, “you don’t want to hear this” or “I really shouldn’t say this”, what did I do? You guessed it, I said it. I had absolutely no self control and, what’s worse is that I meant every single bit of it. I just should have held something back. I should have stopped. What is even worse is that there is so much more to say on this topic, I can’t foresee me not going into a similar frontal lobe paroxysm at the next possible encounter. I know I won’t be able to stop it. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that I am so moronic about it, I would be eagerly awaiting such an  encounter.

If I were with this person now, I would still be chattering. That is because it is a visceral response. It is tied to extreme emotion, whether that emotion is anger or joy or excitement. I get the shivers up and down my body and I have to still my teeth. I start talking and talking and I don’t think and I don’t shut up. After the fact, it is highly embarrassing, not because I said things I didn’t mean but because this person probably didn’t want to hear what I meant and probably didn’t want to listen to a crack addict (I am not on crack…but figuratively) go on and on about it. Tourrette’s doesn’t begin to epitomize it.

Hopefully, it will pan out that this person didn’t notice (yeah right?) or, in the alternative,  enjoys the frontal lobe paroxysms of this social moron.

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