I wrote something odd on Facebook today.

The worst part is that it was to someone I don’t know personally who I admire because when I read her Facebook stuff I’m always impressed with what she’s doing.

This is not new for me.

I’ve always said nutty stuff out of the blue. Ask anyone who knows me.

I have no ability for small talk. I’ve written about that before. When there’s a silence in a conversation I frequently fill it with , hell I don’t know what. Whatever comes into my mind.

I think it’s getting worse because now I’m putting stuff in writing without giving it any thought at all.

Like what I wrote today.

I won’t say the person’s name but it is someone who is very successful and talented and adventurous.

She wrote that she was at some National Running Center waiting to get evaluated.

Just that. No comment necessary and if there was one it should be from a close friend or family member or even someone interested in running.

Here’s what I wrote,  “I was evaluated recently. They called me lumpy.”

Now there wasn’t a reason in the world to write that. Sure I thought it was funny but this woman knows me not at all. And I don’t really know her except to know that she has a bee and a goose.

What made me think I had the right to comment on her space?

I do it to people I know and love too.

The other day one of my nieces, a successful writer and mother (not Julie) whose name sounds like Shmeryl put a comment on Facebook praising a boy who was fighting to have his yearbook photo be a picture of him holding his fluffy cat.

Not even thinking I commented ” I gotta think that the closest that guy gets to any pussy will be his cat when the girls  see that picture”

Almost immediately my comment was deleted. Not by me, I’m not sensitive enough for that. I guess by Shmeryl.

When I gave it some thought I understood. After all I wasn’t the only one following her. Writing colleagues, people whose children went to school with her children and maybe others that mightn’t like the word pussy. At least that’s the conclusion I came to.

I know I should try to be more careful but if I can’t remember to wear the same shoes how much hope is there that I’ll succeed?