After 107 hours with no food (details in my next post), it was time for the Cola Ritual. Of course, it wasn't cola, it was Dr. Pepper, I haven't had any cola (sigh, whimper) since June of 2012. Anyway, fill the cup with ice, pour the brown bubbly syrup, take a sip...
Hyena: Oh. My. God.
Dementia: The food of the gods?
Hyena: The gods were pikers.
There is a craft show at the mall this weekend; they were setting up when I came through yesterday morning, and by Saturday afternoon there were decent crowds, enough to make walking an exercise in pathfinding. The obvious attendant at one of the booths was a pretty blonde in a tank top with a full color owl tattoo that covered her entire left upper arm. I told her I liked her owl; she thanked me; I said I had an affinity for owls, and indicated my belt buckle. She complimented me on the buckle, I said it was produced on a high end 3D printer, she said she wanted to learn to do 3D printing, and had been signed up for a course that had just been cancelled. This led to a discussion of Shapeways tutuorials and services, and then she had a twinge of conscience and mentioned that they had several pieces of owl jewelry in their inventory. And then an older, more dominant woman broke in and did the standard sales pitch for all of the various owl pieces.
The progression was a bit jarring. From random drive-by flirtation to friendly exchange of desired and valuable information to being just another mark at the carnival in about three minutes. I exited politely and went on my way.
With regard to no specific situation:
I love to argue. I am fond of winning. I am almost as fond of losing. The key, always, is that consensus has been achieved, that mutual truth has been found. This is always delightful.
Sometimes, we arrive at mutual agreement on the facts, but parts of the issue remain unresolved due to (usually unreconcilable) ethical differences. This is tolerable, but barely so.
Sometimes, I realize that my respondent is not interested in finding mutual truth, but only in winning. When this happens, I leave the discussion as quickly as possible, inevitably allowing my respondent the last word. This hurts, but long and bitter experience has shown it to be the best response. I do my best to simply vanish; my pride will not allow me exit to with a polite lie, and any other action will drag me back into the situation. Sometimes when this happens, my relationship with my resondent is irrevocably damaged. Often, my opinion of my respondent is irrevocably damaged. Always, I am made unhappy.
May 8 (Mother's Day):
My mother's body died in 2010. Her personality died in 2008. I loved her, and I miss her, but there are things so much worse than death...