Like, what do you do when your interlocutor doesn't know how to stop? A comment, an explanation, and another explanation of the explanation. I mean you can't get anywhere from there. Even a simple 'I'm sorry,' leads to an explanation of what happened, what was intended, all ending in a criticism. Everyone's been there.
For young people, I think there's a reason. They've had to listen so much, have been taught so much, they just lay it all on you whenever there's a chance. But older people do the same. Roll your hands in a circle until they quit? Scream. Walk away, have a smoke, even if you don't smoke?
miércoles, 28 de julio de 2010
martes, 20 de julio de 2010
the weekend, Drumheller, Canada.
There is a beginning and an end, like a story that has a starting place, a middle and an ending. In life, however, the beginnings keep changing, and the destination... either isn't quite known or changes along with the starting point. So maybe this blog is like a road movie. Got back last weekend to more or less where I started. Nothing to do with where I am. Or at least where I think I am.
At the moment, there will be a brief, I hope pause, while I try to put in an image or two of the restaurant Albert's where J and I picked up my sister Alona, and met my other sister and nephew for breakfast. Another picture of the damaged done to J's car after he had pulled out of his parking space and stopped a second too long while an older woman and her mother smashed into the door on my side of the car. No pictures of the following police station hour. Happiness was recovered with a stop at Three Hills. There was a fruit stand with cherries and some other strange juicy peach-like transgenic. Unfortunately, the navagator's knowledge stopped there, 'that's all I know,' We could have taken a known route, but were told this one was definitely shorter. No problem. All south-east roads lead to where we're going.
I'm working on a new note-pad computer, and the keyboard and punctuation is set up for Spanish. I could reset it, but that would be another distraction, like the images, that haven't come up yet.
At the moment, there will be a brief, I hope pause, while I try to put in an image or two of the restaurant Albert's where J and I picked up my sister Alona, and met my other sister and nephew for breakfast. Another picture of the damaged done to J's car after he had pulled out of his parking space and stopped a second too long while an older woman and her mother smashed into the door on my side of the car. No pictures of the following police station hour. Happiness was recovered with a stop at Three Hills. There was a fruit stand with cherries and some other strange juicy peach-like transgenic. Unfortunately, the navagator's knowledge stopped there, 'that's all I know,' We could have taken a known route, but were told this one was definitely shorter. No problem. All south-east roads lead to where we're going.
I'm working on a new note-pad computer, and the keyboard and punctuation is set up for Spanish. I could reset it, but that would be another distraction, like the images, that haven't come up yet.
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