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talking the talk
I love sitting around and talking to people. Good, meaty conversations. Huge, open, expansive minds. People who know how to listen and how to tell a good story. I love my friends for their stretchy brains.

I used to hang out with someone who was dear to me but all his friends knew how to do, it seemed, was banter. You know: sports, pop culture, sarcastic remarks...since when did sarcasm replace true wit?

It drove me crazy.

You know what is funny? When people are learning to speak another language, and they can't hide behind the banter. It is the strangest phenomenon: Something about speaking a new language makes people reveal very personal things. Do you know what I am talking about?

And you can never really know how you sound. I mean, you can sort of guess how you will come across in your own culture, but it is anyone's guess how our deftly-designed mixture of tones and facial expressions translate in other languages/countries.

In England, people always treated me like I was a bit retarded when they met me. I have heard lots of Southerners complain about the same stereotypes.

There is one person in Toronto who I should not name who constantly perceives my attempts at inclusive jokiness as hostile mockery.

This entry has no conclusion. I am bored of this topic. Anyone else want to pick it up from here?

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post #539
bio: adina

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