Example #1
Stacey: What's your middle name?
Carolyn: Grey.
Stacey: I have gray sheets.
1. Nice job! You found something you have in common.
----
Example #2
Carolyn: I feel like a cat who needs to be kept in the bathroom for a while.
Stacey: ...
2. This is tricky. You've just said something that your conversational partner will find alarming because it's unusual. First, assume nothing. Don't assume the person is joking just because the thing sounds unfathomable. A smile and an understanding nod go a long way for those in-between moments.
----
Example #3
Carolyn: *&%$!!!
Stacey: Maybe hold back on the cursing until the call to prayer is over.
3. It's okay to be angry. Before spouting off curse words, look around for reasons why cursing might be a bad idea. The reason they're called curse words is because they're not appropriate for most situations, during the call to prayer and in front of a mosque, for instance, would be a bad time to talk about something potentially frustrating.
----
Example #4
Carolyn: Murder really annoys me.
4. Remember, when you're annoyed, try to imagine if someone else in the situation might be more annoyed than you are.
----
Example #5
Carolyn: I think we're lost.
Stacey: We're not lost, we're just not there, yet!
5. Good work! See how a positive attitude can redirect your anxious thoughts? Keep going!
Showing posts with label conversations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conversations. Show all posts
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
The Importance of Herbs and Turn-of-Phrase
Me: I think we should throw away this old dill weed. It's at least three years old.
Joella: I don't think that's a good idea. Old dill is better than no dill.
Me: I guess we should wait to throw it away 'til we replace it.
Joella: Yeah, 'cause you don't know how important dill is until you have none. Then you're really in a pickle.
Joella: I don't think that's a good idea. Old dill is better than no dill.
Me: I guess we should wait to throw it away 'til we replace it.
Joella: Yeah, 'cause you don't know how important dill is until you have none. Then you're really in a pickle.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Evidence Supporting the Little-Discussed Possibility That I May Not Be a Responsible Adult
I kinda strong-armed Asher into driving back from Longwood Gardens because I was hungry, never mind that he was both tired and hungry...
"When is your inspection?" he asked.
"I dunno. October maybe?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure it's this month. Unless this sticker is wrong."
"Really? Huh. That's... huh. I don't know when I would have noticed that if you hadn't pointed it out."
Inspection Friday.
"When is your inspection?" he asked.
"I dunno. October maybe?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure it's this month. Unless this sticker is wrong."
"Really? Huh. That's... huh. I don't know when I would have noticed that if you hadn't pointed it out."
Inspection Friday.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
A Post About Pot
In the last month, I have given the "don't-do-drugs" talk to precisely three young men. I would have stopped at one if not for a brief conversation I was privy to over the holidays between two people I love very much. It went like this:
Person A: You know, I was talking with my buddy just this week, and we were saying, pot isn't dangerous right away. It's insidious. I look back on my life so far, and I've missed whole years because of pot.
Person B (a generation older) : I've missed decades.
+++
I know a lot of people use pot responsibly, despite obtaining it illegally. But I will keep giving the "don't-do-drugs" talk even after pot is legalized. I have trouble teaching the glazed, red eyes in class, sedated, for the moment, occasionally asking questions that I've already answered, writing papers that they think are brilliant, but are nonsense.
+++
Of course all the states will legalize pot, eventually. If we accept alcohol, which is insidious, indeed, then we are sure to accept pot, too. And neither marijuana nor alcohol are to blame if people become dependent upon them. But let's not. Let's not even break the law to get pot, because it doesn't control us. And while we're at it, let's not allow a host of slowly detrimental behaviors to control us, especially not short-lived pleasure.
+++
The three guys I talked to, by the way, all share commonalities: they feel incredible pressure to become something important. They are representing their families in the U.S.; they have this one chance to make good, and they are so afraid of failing.
Person A: You know, I was talking with my buddy just this week, and we were saying, pot isn't dangerous right away. It's insidious. I look back on my life so far, and I've missed whole years because of pot.
Person B (a generation older) : I've missed decades.
+++
I know a lot of people use pot responsibly, despite obtaining it illegally. But I will keep giving the "don't-do-drugs" talk even after pot is legalized. I have trouble teaching the glazed, red eyes in class, sedated, for the moment, occasionally asking questions that I've already answered, writing papers that they think are brilliant, but are nonsense.
+++
Of course all the states will legalize pot, eventually. If we accept alcohol, which is insidious, indeed, then we are sure to accept pot, too. And neither marijuana nor alcohol are to blame if people become dependent upon them. But let's not. Let's not even break the law to get pot, because it doesn't control us. And while we're at it, let's not allow a host of slowly detrimental behaviors to control us, especially not short-lived pleasure.
+++
The three guys I talked to, by the way, all share commonalities: they feel incredible pressure to become something important. They are representing their families in the U.S.; they have this one chance to make good, and they are so afraid of failing.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Why Hugging a T-Rex is Not Funny
I wrote a joke on the whiteboard in the residence hall a while back: "Reminder: Sunday is hug a T-rex day!"
Nono and Qing walked in and saw the board. They discussed it together in Mandarin, but eventually the conversation flowed over to me:
Qing: What is a trex?
Me: It is a big dinosaur.
Qing: A dinesor? What is?
Me: With motions. You know, raaaarrrr!
Nono: Oh! She tells Qing in Mandarin what I'm talking about.
Qing: Less confused for a moment, then re-confused. Why should we hug it?
Me: Suddenly at a loss. Because, probably nobody ever hugs them.
Qing: It's dangerous.
Nono and Qing walked in and saw the board. They discussed it together in Mandarin, but eventually the conversation flowed over to me:
Qing: What is a trex?
Me: It is a big dinosaur.
Qing: A dinesor? What is?
Me: With motions. You know, raaaarrrr!
Nono: Oh! She tells Qing in Mandarin what I'm talking about.
Qing: Less confused for a moment, then re-confused. Why should we hug it?
Me: Suddenly at a loss. Because, probably nobody ever hugs them.
Qing: It's dangerous.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
June
It's beautiful: being overcome
by simple exhaustion at the end of a school year.
[Breathe.]
It's beautiful.
by simple exhaustion at the end of a school year.
[Breathe.]
It's beautiful.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Conversation
Readers, this is remarkable only because I believe she was somewhat serious.
Me: You want a snow day?
Alyssa: Yes! When do we have?
Me: It has to snow first.
Alyssa: Oh... Can't we have a day off?
Me: Are you asking me to make it snow? Seriously?
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Life Tastes Sweet
Funny how tempting it is to blog about blogging or to make apologies for long, informative posts. Ha. This blog is about my life, so I feel justified in a few very long posts now and then that solely relay strings of experiences.
The painfully anticipated break is nearing its end, and I have lots of feelings and few moments to share. But I don't enjoy writing or reading about feelings. And I love to write and read about moments. So here are a few that come back to me, with their corresponding food of the moment.
On Christmas eve eve, I visited Krystle. We baked banana bread and talked and talked. She presented me with a gift of a beautiful hand-made afghan that rests snugly over the shoulders. It reminded me of Joella's grandmother's prayer shawl. I am wearing the afghan even now. Turkey Hill Double Dunker ice cream.
On Christmas eve, Stephen (my brother), my sister-in-law Megan, and my niece and nephew Aida and Holden went to Megan's aunt's house for dinner. Everyone eats and drinks and dodges children in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. One moment, I found myself on a big, well-stuffed chair, with Aida sitting next to me. We were discussing something. Then her cousin Maddy found her way to my lap. Then her cousin Luke found his way up the back of the chair, covering me in children. They fell over and on top of me, a sweet, laughing kid puddle. Orange sherbet punch.
Christmas day, we stayed inside like bums and watched A Christmas Story in segments that amounted to three full viewings. Sweet potato souffle.
The day after, we decided to eat at the Waffle Shop in State College. We waited for 15 minutes to be seated because it was so crowded. I sat between Aida and Holden. A teething Holden was biting the side of the table as our waitress came up. I forget our conversation. But she told us that she had been a waitress for 49 years, and she loved to serve people. Blueberry pancakes.
In Waynesboro later that week, Kelly, Sladana, Jack, Chelsea and I stopped at Sheetz for a snack before arriving at the movie theater. We sat in the round table and chatted about nothing, I'm sure. But the moment was sweet, there on the quiet edge of a spinning world. Macaroni bites.
Chels and I sat down together and watched The Prestige. I took Benadryl for some strange and awful allergy. I shouted out my guesses at the plot. She shouted out how annoying that was. Decaf tea.
Thursday lunch Sladana, BJ, Kelly, Josiah, and I ate together in Chambersburg. We sat in the draughty Subway sharing potato chips and stories and ideas. Sladana had work, so we remaining went to Starbucks. On the drive, we recalled our long and glorious history of loving Homestarrunner. Flurries had kicked up, but we were warm. Grande, soy, no vanilla, Mocha Frappuccino.
Thursday night, I joined Kelly's mom's dinner party out at some barn-like bed and breakfast. We sat with Kelly's mom's friends and chatted the evening away. Her friend Kim was telling us about the Alaskan village where her father lived and died, and their communal practices of supporting families through grief. Meanwhile, a bluegrass band with lovely vocal harmony played just behind us. Peppermint ice cream pie.
I leaned on my mom's bed as she woke up from her evening nap (she works nights) and we chatted before I left for Lancaster again. We talked about the things on our minds that mattered. It's funny, sometimes I wonder if I have anything important to say. But talking with Mom makes those trifling thoughts melt away, and what remains feels rock-solid, like it matters. The cat lay on the down blanket, with an occasional wistful sigh. LifeSavers peppermints.
On New Year's Eve with Joella's family, Anita and I talked in the kitchen while the other young people played a game in which players are "shot" and eliminated one by one. Asher came to join us. Our conversation intensified a bit, as we listed single ladies for him to consider. Then Tobias joined us, also "dead" to discuss the pros and cons of casual dating, if there is such a thing. The conversational intensity grew another notch. By this time we were all seated on the kitchen floor, weary from standing. Then Zion. Then Isaac. Then Tirzah. Then Boni and Joella. The conversational intensity had evened out around the entrance of Tirzah, and dropped off around the coming of Isaac. Olive cheese balls.
The painfully anticipated break is nearing its end, and I have lots of feelings and few moments to share. But I don't enjoy writing or reading about feelings. And I love to write and read about moments. So here are a few that come back to me, with their corresponding food of the moment.
On Christmas eve eve, I visited Krystle. We baked banana bread and talked and talked. She presented me with a gift of a beautiful hand-made afghan that rests snugly over the shoulders. It reminded me of Joella's grandmother's prayer shawl. I am wearing the afghan even now. Turkey Hill Double Dunker ice cream.
On Christmas eve, Stephen (my brother), my sister-in-law Megan, and my niece and nephew Aida and Holden went to Megan's aunt's house for dinner. Everyone eats and drinks and dodges children in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. One moment, I found myself on a big, well-stuffed chair, with Aida sitting next to me. We were discussing something. Then her cousin Maddy found her way to my lap. Then her cousin Luke found his way up the back of the chair, covering me in children. They fell over and on top of me, a sweet, laughing kid puddle. Orange sherbet punch.
Christmas day, we stayed inside like bums and watched A Christmas Story in segments that amounted to three full viewings. Sweet potato souffle.
The day after, we decided to eat at the Waffle Shop in State College. We waited for 15 minutes to be seated because it was so crowded. I sat between Aida and Holden. A teething Holden was biting the side of the table as our waitress came up. I forget our conversation. But she told us that she had been a waitress for 49 years, and she loved to serve people. Blueberry pancakes.
In Waynesboro later that week, Kelly, Sladana, Jack, Chelsea and I stopped at Sheetz for a snack before arriving at the movie theater. We sat in the round table and chatted about nothing, I'm sure. But the moment was sweet, there on the quiet edge of a spinning world. Macaroni bites.
Chels and I sat down together and watched The Prestige. I took Benadryl for some strange and awful allergy. I shouted out my guesses at the plot. She shouted out how annoying that was. Decaf tea.
Thursday lunch Sladana, BJ, Kelly, Josiah, and I ate together in Chambersburg. We sat in the draughty Subway sharing potato chips and stories and ideas. Sladana had work, so we remaining went to Starbucks. On the drive, we recalled our long and glorious history of loving Homestarrunner. Flurries had kicked up, but we were warm. Grande, soy, no vanilla, Mocha Frappuccino.
Thursday night, I joined Kelly's mom's dinner party out at some barn-like bed and breakfast. We sat with Kelly's mom's friends and chatted the evening away. Her friend Kim was telling us about the Alaskan village where her father lived and died, and their communal practices of supporting families through grief. Meanwhile, a bluegrass band with lovely vocal harmony played just behind us. Peppermint ice cream pie.
I leaned on my mom's bed as she woke up from her evening nap (she works nights) and we chatted before I left for Lancaster again. We talked about the things on our minds that mattered. It's funny, sometimes I wonder if I have anything important to say. But talking with Mom makes those trifling thoughts melt away, and what remains feels rock-solid, like it matters. The cat lay on the down blanket, with an occasional wistful sigh. LifeSavers peppermints.
On New Year's Eve with Joella's family, Anita and I talked in the kitchen while the other young people played a game in which players are "shot" and eliminated one by one. Asher came to join us. Our conversation intensified a bit, as we listed single ladies for him to consider. Then Tobias joined us, also "dead" to discuss the pros and cons of casual dating, if there is such a thing. The conversational intensity grew another notch. By this time we were all seated on the kitchen floor, weary from standing. Then Zion. Then Isaac. Then Tirzah. Then Boni and Joella. The conversational intensity had evened out around the entrance of Tirzah, and dropped off around the coming of Isaac. Olive cheese balls.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Some Looking Back
This conversation took place during our last summer of still having conversations. We were both working on moving to Lancaster. Neither of us was sure where we would work or how we would subsist. We were low on cash, and discussed our situations frequently. Also, he and LBC had differing views on cursing.
A Conversation from July 21, 2008
10:18 PM Ken: [...]
SPONTANEOUS!
I found five dollars today while i was packing my books and throwing away trash
10:19 PM it was in an envelope from the President of LBC that I got when I graduated but never opened for some reason (hint: reason is that I would need it later)
me: did the prez of LBC give all of the grads a $5?
Ken: yes
it comes with a form
and a suggestion that you give it back to lbc
10:20 PM me: no
Ken: and commit to giving five dollars every month
hahaha
no joke
I don't feel even a little bad about this.
It's GOD's money, right? And clearly he was saving it for my time of need. So LBC can shove it. hahahahhahaha
10:21 PM :P
me: cuz God said so
Ken: When I had my exit interview
's'right
they talked to me about donating as an alumnus
and the guy doing the interview was actually (by chance, a bunch of different staff do the exits) the VP of Financial Affairs
10:22 PM and he started it with "Idk what God has in store for you. You know? You could be a millionaire--"
And I started laughing pretty hard
and then I said, "I promise, if God makes me a millionaire, I'll give some money back to LBC."
hahaha
10:23 PM me: lol
Ken: (Image of myself making out a 100 dollar check and writing something smart in the Memo line."
)
me: what would you write? c'mon on now
my choice would be "because I am now a millionaire"
10:24 PM Ken: "As promised; Hope you don't mind this money from a dirty fucker."
tell me not to write cusses!
lol
you know they'd still cash it, too
hahaha
10:25 PM me: well, they might mumble something about the money of the rich being stored up for the poor...
*money of the wicked
Ken: same diff
haha
they might mumble
but they'd mumble in line at the bank
10:26 PM Nick is convinced they are funded by the CIA
(LBC)
[...]
10:30 PM Ken: I know that the VP of Financial Affairs actually told me (when he was asking me to give) that for "some reason" LBC is one of the few colleges that isn't mostly supported financially by their alumni, b/c LBC alumni give a "shockingly" little amount to the college
me: God works in mysterious ways...
Ken: So does the CIA!
me: lol
i gotta go
Ken: k
have fun tomorrow
don't get too lost
me: thanks, sorry you can't come!
Ken: it's okay
me: i'll try hard not ot
*to
Ken: call my house if you get lost and need directions
Cause I don't work until 5, I'll be packing
me: expect a call
10:31 PM Ken: haha, okay
bye!
me: i'm serious
cya!
Ken: okay
haha
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