To The Beautiful Lady Down the Pew

the one with her adorable grand-daughter who is always in pretty pink dresses with shoes that match:

I’m sorry I’m always so short worded.  I just have no idea what to say.

 

I’m always disheveled, clean but scruffy, my hair is at best utilitarian and my girls are naturally lovely but dressed like a blind man grabbed stuff at random; you are perfectly coifed and your grandaughter is smooth and polished.

 

You are ALWAYS on time, your granddaughter is quiet- either adoring or snuggling against you, never yelling.  My girls alternate between yelling, commenting and “singing.”

 

You know all the words without having to read the book—I’m a half-beat behind the chorus.

 

You’ve got a half dozen conversation starters—the best I can do is respond like someone who’s only half awake.  Sure, I am only half awake, with the baby and all, but I hate being rude.  I just have no idea what to say, even while I agree our Parish community is awesome.

I wish I knew how to respond to the overtures you’ve made—I always end up with a horrible case of shoulda-saids.  A half hour later, I know what I should’ve said to keep the conversation going.

 

I’m sorry.

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10 thoughts on “To The Beautiful Lady Down the Pew”

  1. I’m sure she remembers being a young mother. As long as you’re neighborly enough to smile and say something, I’m sure she doesn’t take any offense. :)

    A lot of this is the difference between “open answers” (that call for further conversation or include “open questions” calling for more than yes or no) and “closed answers” (where you just answer the question in an efficient way). I’m pretty sure you spent time being trained in “closed answers” in your old job, so it’s not surprising that you’d automatically go back to that when tired.

  2. Mostly, I nod and wildly grasp for SOMETHING to say, then I get flustered because I think I’m coming across like I don’t like her, and then it gets worse. >.<

      1. Oh, I’m always a head-strong geek, I just have a horrible fear of rejection. I have the devil’s own time giving people gifts for crying out loud.

        On line, I can deal with bullies; polished words are my weapon, objective research is my shield.

        Face to face? I blank out on key details, I don’t know what to do when people reject solid evidence and I don’t have some sort of proof, I get angry when people yell. I can be played like a fiddle by any manipulator worth his salt.

  3. When I told a young lady (she’ll be 42 soon) at work that I have a political blog, she informed me that she never votes, but then she kept drawing me back to her to talk about her political views and ask me about why there was so much racism “back in the day” but really isn’t now.

    And when she was talking her political views, her head was bobbing all over the place and her index finger was flying all over the place. And I had to tell her I agree with nearly everything she said, and believe it or not, she’s a Conservative. Not sure she even understood what a Conservative or a Liberal is. But I gave her my blog addy (very long, that it is) and she said she’d check it out.

    I speak very little around, ya know, living bio-forms, but what I did say made her seek me out so she could speak a lot more.

    A good conversationalist is not someone who talks a lot, but rather someone who listens a lot and gets other people to talk a lot.

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