Awkward


Language is fascinating. One small, seemingly harmless sentence can change a person’s life, or even change the course of history. (Should calling Hillary Clinton “a monster” off the record have gotten that Obama adviser fired? Well, I don’t think so. But then again, I’ve called Hillary much worse.) The written word is even trickier. It eliminates inflection, emphasis, timing, tone…all things pretty necessary in conveying exactly what you want to communicate. I’ve recently come across several correspondences that illuminate this very idea.

There’s so much that’s difficult to communicate through writing. Wit is a tricky one. It can sound like condescension. Emotion is another. It can end up sounding either pathetic or absolutely incomprehensible. But writing also gives you the opportunity to weed out the superfluous thoughts and channel exactly the point you want to say….and what’s the point I want to say?…I dunno, I just think we could all benefit from a good dose of reality. You know, face-to-face interaction. Smiles and laughs and rainbows and shit.

Just a thought.

Everybody poops.

teehee.

Yay for Christmas break! Granted it’s only 4 1/2 days, but oh what a wonderful 4 1/2 days it will be. (Stay tuned for my next post: “A Jew Defends Christmas”.)

We had an early release at work today. Yippee! 2pm and I had the rest of the day to myself. So, merry christmas to me, i decided to get a full-body massage. The massage was quite wonderful…until when it was over i’m pretty sure the asian lady who had been rubbing me down for the past 45 minutes offered to give me a happy ending. she didn’t say it so much in those words, but it was DEFINITELY implied (“more time? you want finish?”). if you thought only guys were offered happy endings, well…you would be wrong. not only was the offer awkward and uncomfortable, but on top of that the place was basically just one big room with some opaque shades and curtains and what not up. like NO sound-proofing. at all. what happens when someone inevitably does get a happy ending? does everyone in the whole massage place get to experience it second hand? in the zen-like state that massages induce, that is the LAST thing you want to hear: the pleasure moans of a complete stranger. awwww, bleehhhhh. that noise in no way comes close to expressing the larry david-esque-ness (really??) of the situation…

anyway, i know she offers up happy endings simply to make more money, which is understandable (hey, a girl’s gotta eat). i guess in a way it was actually kind of nice of her to offer. (“awww, thanks, but no thanks :) “) so i gave her a big tip. though i couldn’t really look her in the eye. and regardless of how good the massage was, i’m not sure that i’ll be able to bring myself to go back…aaaaawkward.