Why Are You So Quiet?

“Why are you so quiet?”
A coworker asked the other day.
“Talking is easy, just try it!
Do you really have nothing to say?”

“I’m sorry my silence offends you,”
I carefully replied,
“But you see, I’ve work to do,
And my mind is occupied.”

“Here, here,” my nemesis cried,
“That’s no reason for restraint.
Look at Betsy, Susan, Clyde,
They greet me without complaint.”

“Is this only a matter of greeting?
Why, I said hello just last week.”
(Sadly, for some it bears repeating.
I forget this, hence her critique.)

She continued our conversation,
Claimed it the most we talked since we met.
“It’s liable to cause a sensation,”
She said, “I’ll surely win the office bet.”

I did not like the sound of that,
Though I knew it was just a tease.
I tried again: “No time to chat,
I’ll return to my desk, if you please.”

Did she listen? Of course not, they never do,
These garrulous acquaintances we soon regret.
She spoke of shopping, shoes, the weather,
Or maybe it was her health, I forget.

The fact is, I’m with her still,
If it weren’t so tragic, I might laugh.
But as I’ll die here, I’ll write my will,
At last, it’s quiet, my epitaph.

Right, Sure, and Yeah-Yeah-Yeah

I know a woman who uses a lot of pet phrases.

And by ‘a lot of pet phrases,’ I mean, ‘Please, dear God, make it stop.’

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But however many times a day I hear, “It is what it is,” or “It’s all good,” or “Just sayin’!” — I haven’t said a word about it.

Not. One. Word.

Which just goes to show people can change.

Back in high school, I had a friend who developed the annoying habit of ending all her sentences with “you know?” And this bothered me so much that every time she said it – and I mean every time – I’d say, “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Which now that I think about it, may explain why I didn’t have more friends in high school.

But that’s not the point of today’s post. Today, I wish to focus on the words and phrases people use when other people are talking.

It’s those little words people say, or sounds they make, in order to prove they’re listening and want to keep the flow of conversation happening. It’s the, Oh yeah, Uh-huh, Mmm-yeah, or I hear ya, combos.

I’ve done some studying into the matter, and I made a few observations: Continue reading “Right, Sure, and Yeah-Yeah-Yeah”

Don’t Stand So Close to Me

Everyone has a sense of personal space around them – a bubble if you will. My bubble might be bigger than your bubble. In fact, I’m sure it is.

Apologies in advance if reading this gets a certain song stuck in your head

I was in the grocery store the other day, my time at the checkout was at hand, and I stepped forward to the register with my wallet out, at the ready.

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Problem is, the guy behind me in line stepped forward as well. You know, like we were in line for a ride at Disneyland or something.

Continue reading “Don’t Stand So Close to Me”

While Strolling Through the Park One Day…

Bear with me, people. It’s another park story.

Desert mountainSo I’m walking Dog along a mountain path – she’s off leash, by the way. Yes, there is a sign clearly posted at the entrance of the park with a rule stating, “Pets must remain leashed at all times.”

Right. I’m going to walk in this big mountain park, with jackrabbits galore, with Dog who is part Border Collie, part Lab, and I’m going to keep her leashed? Not bloody likely.

Before you lecture me, Dog is extremely well-behaved, comes to my side whenever I call her, and I always pick up after her. Always. Because I’m not a barbarian.

Anyway, I’m walking along the path, Dog is trotting ahead happily, having just sniffed a rock with great satisfaction, and I am very, very deep in thought. If you must know, I am thinking about the elephant shrew.

Continue reading “While Strolling Through the Park One Day…”

Extroverts Are Cute

sunshine-2Recently I volunteered at a community concert thing-a-ma-jig. Lest you imagine that makes me a caring, noble creature, I did it because it got me a free ticket to the thing-a-ma-jig.

They asked me to usher, which just goes to show how little they knew me. Somehow I thought I’d be alone in a ticket booth, or maybe asked to count money (which between you and me, I really like to do). As it was, my main job was standing at a door and tearing tickets in half.

It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.

With me was a little-old-lady named Lorraine. She stood about four feet tall and I’m guessing weighed about 80 pounds. Lorraine’s job was handing out the programs. She also smiled constantly, greeted each patron and chatted. A lot. Lorraine was chatty.

I don’t know about you, but when I meet a really chatty person — such as Lorraine — I assume they’re not the brightest bulb in the socket. (It’s a prejudice of mine, I know.) Turns out Lorraine had been a concert organist, holds a doctorate in Music music-notesPerformance, played with the Michigan Symphony and taught at Arizona State.

She contracted polio as an infant and was in an iron lung for … um, a long time. I don’t remember the specifics. She also went through two bouts of cancer and is a firm believer in the medicinal value of lemon peels.

My part in the above conversation primarily consisted of: “Oh really? … Huh … Yeah … That’s interesting … Uh-huh … Yeah … Wow … Really? … Wow …”

I think if I were a psychologist, I would make a study of extroverts. Of course, the tricky thing would be to find a way to study them where they didn’t rush over to me, ask me how I was doing, perform a song and dance for me, and proceed to introduce me to every blame person in the nearby vicinity who they only just met a short while ago but are now their life-long friends.

I mean, my God, who are these people?! Where do they come from?

And where do they get all that energy? 🙂