Holy dog dung, I can't believe this is my third blog. Hee, hee humans find so many ways to express themselves. We are such a creative, screwed up lot.
If blogging were available back in the day I could have saved all the dough that paid my therapist.
Have you ever felt that you went about your life and very few people pay attention to you? How many times have you talked to someone only to realize that person's mind was tuned into a totally different channel?
My own mother never asks me how I am. The woman asks how my husband is; how are the dogs. Oh, how's your girlfriend from New Orleans? Her family?
One of the coolest things about having friends is sharing who you are with somebody who cares about who you are. When a friend frequently interrupts your turn to get back to her; what are you supposed to think?
People are always telling me about themselves. In the airport, at the check out counter it doesn't matter. People want you to know who they are; they have a story. So often there is a sense of urgency in them, that you hear their story.
Some stories are interesting, cute, funny, sweet; some are flat out lies, only one so sadly boring as to wish the phone would ring. People's stories are almost endlessly interesting in one way or another...
An introspective person might deduce, I am one big bore; the extrovert, well, who cares. Let's just hope they don't get together to figure out how egocentrist we all are.
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