People

You know that feeling when you enjoy spending time with someone, and it’s unofficially time to leave, but you don’t want to leave, because you’d much prefer to continue talking with that person, but you know that any lull in the conversation likely would bring about the awareness of it being time to leave one another’s presence, and so you grab for just about any topic of discussion, and you suddenly realize that you’re talking about what feels like some of the most pointless of subjects, but you simultaneously know that it is fully point-filled, because all you’d wanted was to continue talking with that person, and here you have achieved just that?

Yeah… it’s a silly feeling, but I enjoy it anyway.

It has me wonder if things wouldn’t be easier just declaring that ‘I like talking with you and I want to continue talking with you,’ but then I recall that the whole reason I didn’t do that in the first place was out of concern for the person misunderstanding and being weirded out…

It doesn’t mean necessarily anything beyond just wanting to continue talking…, but it often is difficult for people to see that I might not be hinting at something else, but I might just mean exactly what I say.

(People really don’t do that, I find…)

In some cases, however, I want to continue talking because I just want to be around the person and be interacting with the person… that’s most of those cases, actually.

I really am not aiming to jump your bones here – I just like spending time with you.

But when do people say that?

When do people hear things like that?

When do people mean that, even if they don’t say it aloud?

I recently did this, actually(!!!).

I told a guy that I really enjoyed talking with him, and then he tried to kiss me(!). (Little bit o Hashtag outrage, right?)

So, yeah… that didn’t really work out well… I just enjoyed talking with him, and I meant exactly what I’d said with that statement…, but he totally didn’t believe me, nor that my words were exactly as I’d chosen them to be because they were what I’d meant, and not because I’d wanted to hint at something else…

Hmm…

Anyway, it’s a thought…

Post-a-day 2019

Advertisements

Coffee and a smoke for the win (for once)

Driving one day, arriving at a red light, she noticed a woman walking on the sidewalk, drinking from a Starbucks cup in one hand, and then taking a drag on her cigarette in the other hand, preparing to cross the street.

She also noticed a man walking on the other side of the road who looked to have little or no money to his name, and who quite possibly was homeless.

When the light changed, and she was heading on her way again, she saw the possibly homeless man again: With a glint in his eye, he was now taking a drag on a cigarette in the one hand, while holding a Starbucks coffee cup in the other.

……

Yup… same cigarette and coffee…

πŸ™‚

Kinda makes you smile, doesn’t it?

People really can be quite silly yet sweet… let’s do more of that kind of silly love in life.

Post-a-day 2019

Missing Context Clues

“I don’t think it needs the liquid… I think it needs the skin smashed across it.”

“Then smash the skin across it… I’ll go get the tray…”

And, yet again, my mother and I are able to crack up at our own conversations… it happened many times today…, especially when we kept returning to the blueberry-dyed eggs that ended up looking, as I called them, like they were covered in dinosaur boogers… which, I suppose, is another story for another day.

For now, I leave you with little context, and instead give you our thoughts about a lack of context. ;P

You see, we regularly laugh at our own conversations, my mother and I, not necessarily because the conversation itself is funny – though it sometimes and sometimes often is – but because we consider how it would sound to a passer-by, someone hearing it out of context or without the visual guidance of what is currently in front of us… imagine a person standing on the other side of a doorway, hearing our conversation passively…, or someone on the other end of a phone, overhearing things, but seeing nothing…, and you can imagine how absurd that person must find what he or she hears from a great deal of our conversations.

Just the other day, we were discussing how ‘he wouldn’t necessarily look fat, because it depends on whose hand it is…’

Our topic of discussion is clear as day to just about everyone, right?

Oh, wait… it’s just clear for me. πŸ˜›

So, that’s what we do oftentimes with our conversations – we realize how crazy they could and likely would sound out of context… and then we laugh a bunch, because it is totally laugh-worthy. πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Some days

Some days, you want to go back to sleep, but you get up and go anyway, and you end up meeting just the right people (and rather unexpectedly).

And then, you want to nap, but you don’t, and you meet just the right people and you serve your community wonderfully in a much-needed way that no one else had been able to manage.

And then, you want to go to bed super early, but you don’t, because you’ve met just the right people.

And you discover that this mantra and meditation class is exactly where you needed to be, and things had to go this way today, in order for you to end up here as you did, being where you needed to be.

And you are still totally exhausted as you stumble up to bed, but you feel great through and through, because, all-in-all, it was a great day.

Yeah… some days…

Or maybe that’s just the case for me…

πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Grazingly uncomfortable

A few years ago, I was talking to a male friend of mine about one of the other guys at dance, and how I couldn’t figure out if he noticed that he would end up swiping the edge of my boob whenever we danced together (partner dancing).

He informed me and the other females present that a guy always knows when he has touched boob – it is like radar… whenever boob touches any part of a guy’s body, it immediately alerts, “BOOB!”

And so then we were all wondering if the occasional faces that the guy we’d been discussing would make – an almost embarrassed, pursed-lip, laughing expression, like a little boy who’s snuck ice cream before dinner, and his favorite aunt calls him out on it, but they both know she won’t tell Mommy (and probably just will steal a bite in exchange for her nonverbal agreed-upon silence in the matter) every so often while dancing with me were because he noticed that he’d touched boob, but hadn’t meant to do so, and so now didn’t know how to respond appropriately, but did his best to ignore the event (with his face totally betraying him).

Because we really couldn’t figure out why he always made those faces when dancing with me…., but this seemed like a reasonable and likely solution to our quandary.

The specific guy was an actual well-known friend, and so we all agreed easily that he was not at all intentionally malicious in any way with the boob grazing – he was just not that great with the body management while staying on beat and all in the dancing.

I don’t remember if I ever verified this theory – aka tested it time and time again, when dancing with the guy – but I have a sense of being rather convinced of that being the case, even now, years later, so I’m thinking I did check that he always made those faces just after what seemed like an unintentional boob graze.

Now, the reason this has come up tonight, is because of something that happened tonight.

When giving me a side hug tonight, a long-armed guy’s arm went a little too far around my back – about half an inch, I guess – and his fingertips, ever so slightly, grazed the outer edge of my breast.

When it happened, I naturally pulled strategically out of the hug, from years of practice in removing myself from any sort of uncomfortable situation, intended or accidental.

I didn’t say anything, though, because I found myself wondering first, Did he notice that?, which was almost immediately cut off by the memory of what my friend had told me years before: “BOOB!”

And then I wondered, Was that intentional?

????????????????

And then I didn’t know where to go with it.

He’s a tall guy, so misalignments can happen rather easily, as they happen with extreme height differences…, but he’s a tall guy, and he has been a tall guy for some time, and ought to know how to manage such things by this point in his life… but he’s also really not a ladies’ man, and so might not be too accustomed to hugging girls in the first place…

After the fact, I feel almost embarrassed that I was too embarrassed for him to bring it up, to tell him in some way that I disapprove of the behavior, whether it was intentional or not – I didn’t have to be mean to him at all, but I think it would have been valuable to inform him either way to be cautious in the future.

Yet, it was not so natural a thing to me that I even considered saying anything at the time… I just moved away from the incident altogether, for fear of discomfort.

I didn’t want to embarrass him over something he had neither intentionally done nor known about.

I was embarrassed for myself at the prospect of pointing out that he had touched me inappropriately, period.

This is something for me to work on for myself – I want to be comfortable to speak up and conscious enough to do so, whenever anything like this might happen.

And I want all people to be encouraged to do so themselves, too – I want us to be happy and comfortable in our own skins, and to be able to express, in a useful and beneficial way, what doesn’t work from other people’s behavior toward us.

Yeah.

Post-a-day 2019

My future, felt

I’m starting to have a rather solid feeling about this idea of doing interviews… in some form or other, I want to interview people.

Perhaps it is journalistic or nerdy, or even fan-style of up-and-coming individuals in various realms of society interviews… perhaps it is Malcolm Gladwell blow-your-mind-every-single-time-while-leaving-you-feeling-like-a-now-genius book interviews style… perhaps something else entirely…

But it is interviews… I can finally feel that clearly enough to tell.

And I’m excited

Post-a-day 2018

Call me Ishmael

If another adult – recalling that I am, in fact, an adult myself – insists that I call him/her “Dr.”, because he/she ‘worked so hard for that degree,’ or because he/she is ‘so proud of having earned it,’ is that not quite comparable to my saying that people must converse with me in French, because I worked so hard to learn it and I’m so proud of being able to speak it?

(I’m not saying that it’s the same, but just comparable oddities with the same reasoning.)

It’s just a thought that came to mind today, and it has me a bit flummoxed.

I grew up in a world where we are all people, not classes or ranks, so I’ve never really been able to understand people’s required uses of name ranks (beyond someone’s voluntarily being respectful in addressing another, I mean [though even that gets me sometimes]).

Post-a-day 2018