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.

Polly’s Party Game: The Feeding on Folly Edition

How do I get into these things?

Somehow, through no fault of my own, I wind up participating in some sort of friendly, “getting to know you” kind of game. And this is bad because I really stink at them.

It goes waaay back. Like in high school, when a friend would start with:

“Okay, so you’re on a desert island and you can only have two things–”
“Why two things? Who’s keeping me from having more things?”
“No one. It’s just you only have two things.”
“That’s dumb. Who goes to a desert island with only two things?”
“That’s all you have after your ship sank.”
“Wait, I was on a ship? Why did it sink? Are we at war?”
“Gah! Never mind!”
“WAS ANYONE ELSE ON THE SHIP? DID EVERYONE DIE?!”

Suffice it to say, I avoid those sorts of things. But the other day, Rhonda over at Pollyanna’s Path wrote of her Party Game, and me being the observant reader that I am, asked if she expected others to play.

And what with one thing leading to another… well… here’s me playing Polly’s Party Game. (Man. I really stepped into this one.) Continue reading “Polly’s Party Game: The Feeding on Folly Edition”

The Post Office, The Rock, and Timid Little Me

automated-postal-centerYou know what the best thing is about the Christmas season? The absolute bestest thing?

Yeah, sure, you got your presents, the decorations, the yummy food. That’s all well and good.

But the best thing – the super cool bestest thing – is being able to send packages using the Magical Mystical Mailing Machine. Continue reading “The Post Office, The Rock, and Timid Little Me”

Why I’ll Never Enter Another Contest

Have you ever read about lottery winners who won a huge jackpot, then messed up their lives?

That’s not the kind of contest I’m referring to, but even winning on a smaller scale has its drawbacks. Trust me on this.

Husband and I were at store recently and they had a drawing for a $25 gift card. As the guy was reading off numbers, I realized I was the only one not holding a ticket.

marbles1This was no accident. I duck past drawings, raffles, ‘guess-how-many-marbles-in-the-jar’ contests I see. Because I know, with my luck, I’d probably win.

And I’d probably hate it.

Because having my name announced in a room full of people brings back painful memories. Dark memories.

Such as the time I was in college…

Continue reading “Why I’ll Never Enter Another Contest”

We Need to Talk. It’s About Your Popups.

I was at your site a few days ago. Not sure if you saw me? I waved.

White dog next to person with laptopSomeone left a link on Facebook saying they really like your writing, so I thought I’d check it out.

I started to read your post.

I think it was the one where you went to that place? And did that thing? And then something really funny happened?

Or maybe it wasn’t funny. Maybe it was profound and life-changing.

To be honest, I didn’t read the whole piece. It’s not that your writing was bad or anything. I mean, your first two sentences were killer good. Really.

It’s just that right after I read the second sentence, a popup box just, you know, popped up, asking me to subscribe to your site.

Here’s the thing: I’m only two flippin’ sentences in! How do I know if I want to subscribe to your site?! Continue reading “We Need to Talk. It’s About Your Popups.”

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”

Can’t Believe I’m Asking, but…

Do you have any poetry suggestions for me?

Reason being, I came across this cool article about fostering your creativity. It included this graphic, based on Ray Bradbury’s diet for feeding his subconscious:

4ways4

What’s good enough for Ray Bradbury is more than good enough for me, but my bookshelf is suffering a severe famine in the poetry department. (I live in great fear of the bad stuff.)

Who are your favorite poets?

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.

Embed from Getty Images

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…”