(no subject)
Did I mention that this would probably be a whole lot of disconnected ramblings?
It is well known among my friends that I am a master at revisiting and picking up previous conversations. Sometimes this occurs 15 minutes after the fact, when I and whomever I am talking with have moved on to 3 or 4 more topics, but I have also restarted conversations or picked up where we left off hours, days, and once weeks after the fact. Someone I met a few years ago, who didn't end up a friend, and doesn't think I'm absolutely wonderful, told me that it was a really annoying habit. I hope it isn't though, because I really love doing that. There is something really satisfying about getting everything there is to say about something out on the table. And if we are interrupted, or I think of something else that applies, I really like bringing it back up and getting it all out there. With some things, you will never be able to say all there is to say, but there is a sense of closure when you are all out of words about something. I feel, sometimes, like Bubba, in the movie Forrest Gump, when he lists all the recipes you can make with shrimp. That's just so satisfying to say, "Well, that's all."
I also find myself starting with one topic, moving to another, another, another, but somehow, much like an episode of the Simpson's, ending up right back at the original idea and having it all flow together and make sense. Like a jazz solo. It starts out with a slight variation on the melody, and can turn into this wild, expansive, expressive thing, but it always comes back, at the point of applause, to the original notes and chord progression.
I remember hearing, once, about mean, yet funny, things parents have done to their children to get them to behave, and one that really stuck with me is the man who was tired of having his daughter pester him with one million questions while he was trying to manuever through rush hour traffic. He told her that we are only given so many words in our lifetime, and once we used them up, we wouldn't have anymore, and wouldn't be able to speak. It got her quiet right away, and is a humorous story, but I am definitely not afraid of using up all my words. I love words. I love how language works, how there are similarities and differences between words in different languages, and how a literal translation of an idiom in English will get you a funny look in Sweden, China, or Sri Lanka, and vice versa. I love verbal wit, and plays-on-words. I like hearing verbal sparring in movies, especially classic ones.
There may very well be no point to this entry, except to say that if you read these entries, expect to get drawn in to some elaborate explanation or anecdote which will only serve as a huge pre-amble to a rather brief account of some recent event or development in my life. Just thought I'd warn you.
Sorry I don't have a clever, sitcom inner-monologue to sum it up.
That's it.
It is well known among my friends that I am a master at revisiting and picking up previous conversations. Sometimes this occurs 15 minutes after the fact, when I and whomever I am talking with have moved on to 3 or 4 more topics, but I have also restarted conversations or picked up where we left off hours, days, and once weeks after the fact. Someone I met a few years ago, who didn't end up a friend, and doesn't think I'm absolutely wonderful, told me that it was a really annoying habit. I hope it isn't though, because I really love doing that. There is something really satisfying about getting everything there is to say about something out on the table. And if we are interrupted, or I think of something else that applies, I really like bringing it back up and getting it all out there. With some things, you will never be able to say all there is to say, but there is a sense of closure when you are all out of words about something. I feel, sometimes, like Bubba, in the movie Forrest Gump, when he lists all the recipes you can make with shrimp. That's just so satisfying to say, "Well, that's all."
I also find myself starting with one topic, moving to another, another, another, but somehow, much like an episode of the Simpson's, ending up right back at the original idea and having it all flow together and make sense. Like a jazz solo. It starts out with a slight variation on the melody, and can turn into this wild, expansive, expressive thing, but it always comes back, at the point of applause, to the original notes and chord progression.
I remember hearing, once, about mean, yet funny, things parents have done to their children to get them to behave, and one that really stuck with me is the man who was tired of having his daughter pester him with one million questions while he was trying to manuever through rush hour traffic. He told her that we are only given so many words in our lifetime, and once we used them up, we wouldn't have anymore, and wouldn't be able to speak. It got her quiet right away, and is a humorous story, but I am definitely not afraid of using up all my words. I love words. I love how language works, how there are similarities and differences between words in different languages, and how a literal translation of an idiom in English will get you a funny look in Sweden, China, or Sri Lanka, and vice versa. I love verbal wit, and plays-on-words. I like hearing verbal sparring in movies, especially classic ones.
There may very well be no point to this entry, except to say that if you read these entries, expect to get drawn in to some elaborate explanation or anecdote which will only serve as a huge pre-amble to a rather brief account of some recent event or development in my life. Just thought I'd warn you.
Sorry I don't have a clever, sitcom inner-monologue to sum it up.
That's it.