deckardcanine | (no subject)

Had a pretty down and out weekend. At first I thought it was because I kept doing things wrong, like not checking Craig's List for new housing options. It couldn't have helped that I hadn't exercised in a while either. But really this was an unusual weekend: my dad returned from a four-day business trip to San Francisco, my counseling sister returned from camp just for the weekend with a New Zealand friend, my mom returned from a hectic three-day business stay at a hotel in the city, and a Colorado friend of the family came following a trip to eastern Europe. Everybody had a lot to tell, except for me. I had to be almost exclusively a passive listener, something I've never done well. I must have tuned out the entire last 45 minutes of my dad's birthday dinner celebration, speaking only when I had stood up three times and could wait politely no longer.

Too bad I take hardly any more interest in my own family's stories than in the stories of people I never met, like here on LJ. Of course, it helps that (1) the stories here are in writing, (2) I can read them at whatever leisure time I please, (3) nobody notices if I don't even show up, and (4) I don't have to wait for an opening to speak.

Sometimes I'm lonelier when actually with people. My sister's presence makes me especially lonely. I learned to love growing up with her, but now an unusual college schedule, 10 weeks of overnight camp, and a propensity for going out with friends make her very hard to reach in person. I hoped to watch a movie with her, but with such a short break, she wanted to do only things she can't do at camp (which, BTW, has gotten awful since I've left, but she has her place in the musical theater department). I considered offering a two-player video game of her choice, but she seldom agrees to those; besides, I want to see how long I can go before touching those controls again. I never got around to showing her the cartoons I've drawn since she was last here. Didn't even rightly say goodbye to her, because I hadn't realized that I would be at a choir party when she left.

I'm starting to enjoy mowing the lawn.

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"counseling sister" ?

You may find that a bit more distance (moving out) will make your heart grow even fonder. Keeping in touch via blogs & emails will help all of that, too. Says me :)

Relationships still boggle me. A dear woman whom i love like a mother will send me stupid joke emails, and she sends her personal updates to a group of friends via email. So, today, I gave her my LJ addy and I told her about my brother's near-fatal accident (he is still in critical condition 7 weeks later). Her response was "Sorry, I am not into blogging." Not a word about my brother. And maybe I read this wrong, but I feel her response says "I am not interested in you or in what's going on with you." *shrug*

You sing? Me, too :)

I was trying to find a succinct way to say that my sister was a camp counselor. In another wording I considered, it sounded like she was a counselor just for the weekend.

Hopefully, that "dear woman" was responding at a bad time for her emotions. She might have been cranky or in a hurry and opted to dismiss something the moment she saw "journal."

I don't know how much longer I'll be singing with this church. Depending where I move, it could be too long a commute.

Well, a voice is a cool thing. It travels well :)

So would you say that you've just got a problem listening? Most people aren't very good listeners, even those who say that they are. I've found that in the last few years I've had to learn how to be a good listener (rather than waiting to talk). It's tough really. I guess it says something about the selfishness of the human condition.

My problem listening to anybody outside of entertainment was downright extreme from early childhood. Adults wondered if I had a hearing problem, but I had extra-sharp hearing. I'm not sure that selfishness accounts for all of it: I was good at absorbing what I read.

Don't start resenting anything, that always ends up sucking.

I am another one of those freaks who prefer to listen to speaking.

I try not to associate those who love to listen and hate to speak...with the dopey Hazel from John Steinbeck's Cannery Row. I try.

Seriously, your preference is a gift that I'd love to have. Even if it makes for a pretty empty journal.

...I was a pretty bad listener, too. But then John Michael (

clemenceau) told me that our entire friendship was built upon the fact that I was the best listener he'd ever known. I guess, as a teacher, I gradually developed the skill, and didn't know I had it until I really needed it, to "connect" with someone who really loved me.

Hm, I've been asked to volunteer as a teacher's aide. Guess I have yet another reason to accept.

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