It's almost Thanksgiving- that time of year when we'll all be gathered together with our loved ones feeling blessed. We hope. It seems this year a lot of us are stressed about being gathered together and.....feeling pissed off if someone mentions the recent election. Trust me, I don't really want to talk about it either since I got my ass kicked. So, here you go, my handy-dandy, "Thanksgiving, Non-Political Conversation Starters."You know, that random thing you can say when someone starts a conversation with, "I can't believe all the morons who voted........." Mine will come complete with answers for you.
1. What's the most memorable Thanksgiving you've ever had? (When Mom and Pop came to my place in San Diego.)
2. What's one dish you wish we never had on Thanksgiving? (Pumpkin Pie- the texture makes me queasy)
3. If you had to eat just one of these leftovers for the next year, which would it be? (Mashed potatoes)
4. Not counting today, who was the last person you hugged and why? (Big E, because I hug him multiple times a day.)
5. If you had to go without one article of clothing for the rest of your life what would it be? (Underwear, of course. It's optional, right?)
6. If you had to chose only one article of clothing for the rest of your life what would it be? (Running shoes. Duh.)
7. Where is the weirdest place you've ever dropped your own undies? (On the counter at LuLuLemon.)
8. If you could hide somewhere and spy for a day, where would it be? (In any gym where the Rock is working out.)
9. If you had to pick someone to illustrate your childhood, who would be most suited? (Norman Rockwell [although Pop would probably say Charles Schulz because he thinks I'm Pigpen])
10. What's your biggest quirk? (I still twirl my hair around my fingers when I'm tired or nervous. Contrary to the doc's opinion when I was a kid, I still don't have a bald spot.)
11. If you could video tape yourself doing one thing and leave it as your legacy, what you would be doing? (Laughing)
Of course, feel free to add your own. The most important thing is that you listen to the answers.
Monday, November 21, 2016
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Why You Should Get Your Ass Out of Bed Tomorrow
After a 5 month hiatus, the blog has been turned back on. When I was talked into running for office, I decided that perhaps leaving public a sometimes raunchy, rarely politically correct and always blatantly honest blog was perhaps not the best idea. I briefly contemplated just hiding the naughtiest posts. Then Big E reminded me that would be all of them. He is always the voice of reason in our house.
For most of the summer, I was too busy to write a single sentence anyway, but a few weeks ago, something happened that compelled me to break my silence. Since it was the height of my door to door campaign, the words had to wait until today. I figure with less than 6 hours to go, no one's going to be able to do much damage if they find a few blog posts where I dropped the F bomb.
Anyway, back to that incident a few weeks ago. I was running with a friend and she told me how two of her clients had cancelled their appointments the day after the presidential town hall because they were too depressed to get out of bed. I was shocked, for many reasons, not the least of which is that fact that the last thing any of us should do if we're afraid of who will become president is hide in bed. That's precisely what got us into this mess.
We've spent the last I don't know how many years dividing ourselves, hiding in our homes while slamming those who disagree with us on Facebook and blaming our problems on anyone who doesn't belong to our political party. It should come as no surprise to any of us that this resulted in some pretty crappy choices for president. Hiding under the covers when one of them becomes president and spending the next four years complaining about it isn't going to solve the problem. Neither will moving to Canada.
I get it, a lot of people are going to be disappointed tomorrow. Trust me, the thousands of us who ran for office this year will be among those people. Over half of us won't win. Over half of us will have spent months in our districts going door to door trying to convince people to vote for us. A loss tomorrow means that didn't work. Many of us ran in districts considered safe for our opponents, which means we chose to do all that work despite the fact that we'd likely lose.
In my case, I'm running as a Republican in a district that typically votes 70-75% DFL. My only chance of winning was to go door to door and convince people to stop voting for parties and start voting for people. Unfortunately, my district also contains quite a few dangerous neighborhoods. So basically, along with the inevitable things that happened, like doors slammed in my face, I encountered enough scary shit to change my outlook on life just a little bit.
There was the day three different people told me I shouldn't be by myself in a neighborhood because of frequent gunshots. There were many days when my longest conversations were with people so strung out on drugs they didn't know where they were. There was the day a man was found wandering down the street bleeding from a knife wound shortly after I'd been there. A few days after that, two guys tried to lure me into their car. (I'm pretty sure the presence of my pepper spray made them reconsider wanting to become my pimp.) The same day, a man took my flyer and stuck it down the front of his hospital pants.
All that happened in the better neighborhoods. In an attempt to reach out to the people in more dangerous areas and apartment buildings, I sent postcards and advertised on Facebook. I stuck to a positive ad. After all, everyone complains about the negative ads so surely they don't want them, right? I quickly discovered that trying to spread positivity on Facebook is like trying to sell veggies in a candy store. The alternative is cheap, easy and offers too much of a quick fix for people to resist. After 10 days, I finally took the damn ad down. I tolerated some fool who kept trying to accuse me of just wanting to fight ISIS (apparently that's all Republicans want to do), but when someone tried to turn the whole thing into a negative ad against a city council person who isn't up for re-election and isn't in my district, I'd had enough.
In the middle of all of this, our house was burglarized. I came home in the middle of the day to the door pried open and the sinking feeling that someone was still inside. While it was quite interesting to witness how the K9 unit searches a house, I was kind of hoping it would never be my own. An hour later, I sat down on our couch and bawled my eyes out. When I was finished I got up and drove to the bank to start the long process of closing accounts and opening new ones. The next day, I got out of bed and kept going door to door. Trust me, I wanted to stay under the covers. At this point, I was literally afraid of my own reflection in people's front door. I screamed at myself. Twice. But I wasn't giving up and staying in bed. I came close a couple days later when a drug dealer shamed me for running as a Republican, but I didn't. I cried walking to the next house, but I refused to give up.
When I wake up tomorrow morning and likely haven't won, I won't then either. Why? After all that, after witnessing so much of the crappy side of humanity in my own neighborhood, why not? I mean, seriously, I just spent 5 months walking the streets near my own house and discovered that it would be easier to score drugs or turn a few tricks there than it would be to change many minds. So why not just throw in the towel on life tomorrow and stay in bed?
Because a whole lot of people, many of them friends and family who can't even vote for me, donated to my campaign. Because many of those same friends came to a bike scavenger hunt near my house and handed out my cards to my neighbors, even though they identify with the "other" political party. Because this morning, this happened in MI:
Because between all the crazy stuff that happened while door knocking, there were some great conversations that happened on the front porches of total strangers. Because my neighbor, who didn't know me until June and is fighting cancer, visited over 2,000 homes with my flyers. Because I know I changed a few minds, convinced a few people that it's not all about the party. It's about the people.
That's why we should get out of bed tomorrow no matter what. Because it's not about our president. It's about us. It's about how we treat each other. It's about taking some time to listen to someone different from you. It's about refusing to draw lines in the sand and stepping over them when someone else does. It's about refusing to let our politicians define us. They only matter to the extent that we let them matter. We have the choice to go out there and try to change things, no matter who our president, mayor, state rep or city council person is. As long as that's the case, I'm getting my ass out of bed. What are you going to do with yours?
For most of the summer, I was too busy to write a single sentence anyway, but a few weeks ago, something happened that compelled me to break my silence. Since it was the height of my door to door campaign, the words had to wait until today. I figure with less than 6 hours to go, no one's going to be able to do much damage if they find a few blog posts where I dropped the F bomb.
Anyway, back to that incident a few weeks ago. I was running with a friend and she told me how two of her clients had cancelled their appointments the day after the presidential town hall because they were too depressed to get out of bed. I was shocked, for many reasons, not the least of which is that fact that the last thing any of us should do if we're afraid of who will become president is hide in bed. That's precisely what got us into this mess.
We've spent the last I don't know how many years dividing ourselves, hiding in our homes while slamming those who disagree with us on Facebook and blaming our problems on anyone who doesn't belong to our political party. It should come as no surprise to any of us that this resulted in some pretty crappy choices for president. Hiding under the covers when one of them becomes president and spending the next four years complaining about it isn't going to solve the problem. Neither will moving to Canada.
I get it, a lot of people are going to be disappointed tomorrow. Trust me, the thousands of us who ran for office this year will be among those people. Over half of us won't win. Over half of us will have spent months in our districts going door to door trying to convince people to vote for us. A loss tomorrow means that didn't work. Many of us ran in districts considered safe for our opponents, which means we chose to do all that work despite the fact that we'd likely lose.
In my case, I'm running as a Republican in a district that typically votes 70-75% DFL. My only chance of winning was to go door to door and convince people to stop voting for parties and start voting for people. Unfortunately, my district also contains quite a few dangerous neighborhoods. So basically, along with the inevitable things that happened, like doors slammed in my face, I encountered enough scary shit to change my outlook on life just a little bit.
There was the day three different people told me I shouldn't be by myself in a neighborhood because of frequent gunshots. There were many days when my longest conversations were with people so strung out on drugs they didn't know where they were. There was the day a man was found wandering down the street bleeding from a knife wound shortly after I'd been there. A few days after that, two guys tried to lure me into their car. (I'm pretty sure the presence of my pepper spray made them reconsider wanting to become my pimp.) The same day, a man took my flyer and stuck it down the front of his hospital pants.
All that happened in the better neighborhoods. In an attempt to reach out to the people in more dangerous areas and apartment buildings, I sent postcards and advertised on Facebook. I stuck to a positive ad. After all, everyone complains about the negative ads so surely they don't want them, right? I quickly discovered that trying to spread positivity on Facebook is like trying to sell veggies in a candy store. The alternative is cheap, easy and offers too much of a quick fix for people to resist. After 10 days, I finally took the damn ad down. I tolerated some fool who kept trying to accuse me of just wanting to fight ISIS (apparently that's all Republicans want to do), but when someone tried to turn the whole thing into a negative ad against a city council person who isn't up for re-election and isn't in my district, I'd had enough.
In the middle of all of this, our house was burglarized. I came home in the middle of the day to the door pried open and the sinking feeling that someone was still inside. While it was quite interesting to witness how the K9 unit searches a house, I was kind of hoping it would never be my own. An hour later, I sat down on our couch and bawled my eyes out. When I was finished I got up and drove to the bank to start the long process of closing accounts and opening new ones. The next day, I got out of bed and kept going door to door. Trust me, I wanted to stay under the covers. At this point, I was literally afraid of my own reflection in people's front door. I screamed at myself. Twice. But I wasn't giving up and staying in bed. I came close a couple days later when a drug dealer shamed me for running as a Republican, but I didn't. I cried walking to the next house, but I refused to give up.
When I wake up tomorrow morning and likely haven't won, I won't then either. Why? After all that, after witnessing so much of the crappy side of humanity in my own neighborhood, why not? I mean, seriously, I just spent 5 months walking the streets near my own house and discovered that it would be easier to score drugs or turn a few tricks there than it would be to change many minds. So why not just throw in the towel on life tomorrow and stay in bed?
Because a whole lot of people, many of them friends and family who can't even vote for me, donated to my campaign. Because many of those same friends came to a bike scavenger hunt near my house and handed out my cards to my neighbors, even though they identify with the "other" political party. Because this morning, this happened in MI:
Because between all the crazy stuff that happened while door knocking, there were some great conversations that happened on the front porches of total strangers. Because my neighbor, who didn't know me until June and is fighting cancer, visited over 2,000 homes with my flyers. Because I know I changed a few minds, convinced a few people that it's not all about the party. It's about the people.
That's why we should get out of bed tomorrow no matter what. Because it's not about our president. It's about us. It's about how we treat each other. It's about taking some time to listen to someone different from you. It's about refusing to draw lines in the sand and stepping over them when someone else does. It's about refusing to let our politicians define us. They only matter to the extent that we let them matter. We have the choice to go out there and try to change things, no matter who our president, mayor, state rep or city council person is. As long as that's the case, I'm getting my ass out of bed. What are you going to do with yours?
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Joint Compound, John Kasich and My Glute Medius
It's official. My insistence on saying "yes" to everything has made me busy. Things that have happened in the last month:
1. I turned the sheet-rocked room pictured in my last blog into a massage room. It was a whirlwind of a weekend but somehow I managed to have it presentable in 3 days. Trophy was treated to the first massage.
The baseboard still isn't nailed into place and I already had to kill a mouse, but hey, it's presentable and it smells good.
2. In the process I learned that applying joint compound is fun. (Despite the fact that I don't seem to want it on my hands in this picture. And yes, I am applying it with a stir stick. I work with what I have.)
3. I also learned that sanding that same compound down sucks. There were no smiling pictures from that evening.
4.Once I had the room ready, my business had its best month in over a year in that new space. I'll take that as a good sign. Apparently hearing rap music through the door isn't turning anyone off. Who knows, maybe the mixture of heavy beats from the gym and mellow massage music is working some kind of magic on people.
3. I went to my Congressional District meeting as a delegate and I didn't slap anyone. This was quite a challenge since the only acceptable outfit I owned was purple and Prince had just died. By the end of the day I needed a badge that read "NO I'M NOT WEARING PURPLE BECAUSE PRINCE DIED" because if I'd had to answer that question one more time, I would've just disrobed then and there to save myself the torture of hearing it again. I'm pretty sure the Kasich supporters would've had a heart attack had this happened since I was proudly wearing his sticker (on my purple shirt of course) in a room full of Cruz fans.
4. I scored another awesome part time job, which then overlapped with the one I already had during the busiest month of my business in a year. So, last Friday I didn't sit down (except on my bike to my office) from 6:45am until 6:30pm, at which point I sat down to work the new job for four hours. I'm just happy to find a part time job where I can actually sit. My legs are thanking me already.
5. Since my new office is in a gym, I decided to jump into some of the group workouts that take place. Let's just say this- my willingness to say "yes" is being put to the test, but so far, I've managed to avoid any "Oh hell no" responses when I'm asked to do things like glute bridge 1 1/2 times my body weight.
6. That said, I've discovered a new kind DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) which prefers to take up residence in my ass. As I put it yesterday, "Well, at least I know I have a glute medius."
Now I just need to make time to get a massage myself.....
1. I turned the sheet-rocked room pictured in my last blog into a massage room. It was a whirlwind of a weekend but somehow I managed to have it presentable in 3 days. Trophy was treated to the first massage.
2. In the process I learned that applying joint compound is fun. (Despite the fact that I don't seem to want it on my hands in this picture. And yes, I am applying it with a stir stick. I work with what I have.)
4.Once I had the room ready, my business had its best month in over a year in that new space. I'll take that as a good sign. Apparently hearing rap music through the door isn't turning anyone off. Who knows, maybe the mixture of heavy beats from the gym and mellow massage music is working some kind of magic on people.
3. I went to my Congressional District meeting as a delegate and I didn't slap anyone. This was quite a challenge since the only acceptable outfit I owned was purple and Prince had just died. By the end of the day I needed a badge that read "NO I'M NOT WEARING PURPLE BECAUSE PRINCE DIED" because if I'd had to answer that question one more time, I would've just disrobed then and there to save myself the torture of hearing it again. I'm pretty sure the Kasich supporters would've had a heart attack had this happened since I was proudly wearing his sticker (on my purple shirt of course) in a room full of Cruz fans.
4. I scored another awesome part time job, which then overlapped with the one I already had during the busiest month of my business in a year. So, last Friday I didn't sit down (except on my bike to my office) from 6:45am until 6:30pm, at which point I sat down to work the new job for four hours. I'm just happy to find a part time job where I can actually sit. My legs are thanking me already.
5. Since my new office is in a gym, I decided to jump into some of the group workouts that take place. Let's just say this- my willingness to say "yes" is being put to the test, but so far, I've managed to avoid any "Oh hell no" responses when I'm asked to do things like glute bridge 1 1/2 times my body weight.
6. That said, I've discovered a new kind DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) which prefers to take up residence in my ass. As I put it yesterday, "Well, at least I know I have a glute medius."
Now I just need to make time to get a massage myself.....
Thursday, March 31, 2016
My Hobbit Feet
Yes, I am alive. I have forgotten to blog because, well, some days I don't sit down and it's hard to blog standing up. It might not be if I had a standing desk but I don't. So I blog on the couch.
Since our big snowmobile trip life has been quite exciting. We dog sat. Somehow I managed to turn a golden retriever into a vicious attack dog in three days. Not that Eddie wasn't able to charm her after she tried valiantly to keep him away from me when he came home dressed in bike clothes. (Bike clothes are apparently terrifying to dogs!)
I took the trophy to Red Squirrel's big 5-0 party. We had to pose for pics since he was the first winner of the trophy.
Somehow the trophy ended up in my nose.
What do you expect after a few drinks?
I don't have a picture because I figured busting out the phone for this moment would be weird, but I was elected a delegate for my area and I get to go the the Republican MN state convention. Yes, I realize they would never have elected me had they seen the above picture. What they don't know won't kill them.
I made Easter dessert and it didn't suck. Big E even said it was better than the first time I made it for Pop. (Sorry Pop, I'll have to give it another go for you.)
Somewhere in there I also moved out of my office and began getting my new one ready. I have three more days to make this into a massage room.
Anything is possible with a little drywall tape, joint compound and paint. Oh yes, and carpet. I will learn how to lay carpet in the oddest shaped room on the planet. I've always been geometry challenged so this should be exciting.
I also finally shaved my hobbit feet.
I know. Miracles do happen. You're welcome, Big E. Now that I have girlified my feet for you I expect nightly foot rubs.
Since our big snowmobile trip life has been quite exciting. We dog sat. Somehow I managed to turn a golden retriever into a vicious attack dog in three days. Not that Eddie wasn't able to charm her after she tried valiantly to keep him away from me when he came home dressed in bike clothes. (Bike clothes are apparently terrifying to dogs!)
I took the trophy to Red Squirrel's big 5-0 party. We had to pose for pics since he was the first winner of the trophy.
I don't have a picture because I figured busting out the phone for this moment would be weird, but I was elected a delegate for my area and I get to go the the Republican MN state convention. Yes, I realize they would never have elected me had they seen the above picture. What they don't know won't kill them.
I made Easter dessert and it didn't suck. Big E even said it was better than the first time I made it for Pop. (Sorry Pop, I'll have to give it another go for you.)
Somewhere in there I also moved out of my office and began getting my new one ready. I have three more days to make this into a massage room.
Anything is possible with a little drywall tape, joint compound and paint. Oh yes, and carpet. I will learn how to lay carpet in the oddest shaped room on the planet. I've always been geometry challenged so this should be exciting.
I also finally shaved my hobbit feet.
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Hot Tubs and Snowmobiles
You'd think at the age of 44 there wouldn't be that many new things for me to try. However, considering that I didn't grow up around a wide variety motorized vehicles and Big E is a lover of all things with wheels, I'm beginning to think the opportunities for me to try something new and fast are never-ending.
What started as a "fishing weekend" at the Grand Ely Lodge (which I won in a raffle) quickly turned into a snowmobile weekend when we learned that the ice houses had to be brought in due to slush. Believe it or not, even though I grew up in the great white north, I'd never actually driven a snowmobile so Big E jumped at the chance to borrow a buddy's sled and loan me his to scare the crap out of myself for a weekend.
After a slippery drive in what just might prove to be the last snow of the season, we arrived at our hot tub suite (courtesy of my winning ticket) late Friday afternoon.
I conquered my fear of driving on frozen lakes while simultaneously learning to drive a snowmobile in the dark with Big E on the back. Of course, I learned later that the sense of security I felt with him on the back was actually more like a false sense. According to him, had I missed a corner, there probably wasn't much he could've done. What can I say? Sometimes a false sense of security is all I need to push myself. Not that I really went all that fast in the dark.
We hit the trails again the next day, me trailing behind gradually gaining confidence as the day went on and I didn't crash into any trees...or buildings. I learned a few things in the process:
1- A snowmobile is not like a bike. You have to keep the gas on on the downhills or you'll stop. Duh.
2- I can go 60...but Big E can go 100.
3- I'm willing to hit a big bump at 35mph and catch air once by accident, but I will probably never do it on purpose.
4- Frozen lakes make me drive faster...because I really want to be off them and onto land.
Of course, I had a blast. How could I not love ripping around in the snow on a sunny day?
Of course, I had to remind Big E that since my first snowmobiling trip involved having a hot tub in my room, I now think this is what all snowmobiling will be like.
The bar for winter fun has been set...
What started as a "fishing weekend" at the Grand Ely Lodge (which I won in a raffle) quickly turned into a snowmobile weekend when we learned that the ice houses had to be brought in due to slush. Believe it or not, even though I grew up in the great white north, I'd never actually driven a snowmobile so Big E jumped at the chance to borrow a buddy's sled and loan me his to scare the crap out of myself for a weekend.
After a slippery drive in what just might prove to be the last snow of the season, we arrived at our hot tub suite (courtesy of my winning ticket) late Friday afternoon.
We hit the trails again the next day, me trailing behind gradually gaining confidence as the day went on and I didn't crash into any trees...or buildings. I learned a few things in the process:
1- A snowmobile is not like a bike. You have to keep the gas on on the downhills or you'll stop. Duh.
2- I can go 60...but Big E can go 100.
3- I'm willing to hit a big bump at 35mph and catch air once by accident, but I will probably never do it on purpose.
4- Frozen lakes make me drive faster...because I really want to be off them and onto land.
Of course, I had a blast. How could I not love ripping around in the snow on a sunny day?
The bar for winter fun has been set...
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
My Big Fat Hillside Trophy
Along the way there have been many uncomfortable moments- insecurity when I know I'll be lapped, terror at the prospect of riding downhill as fast as I can, nausea after unwisely downing nearly an entire pint of ice cream in the middle of a race, dehydration when bottles froze in the winter and when temps reached 90 in a 24 hour race. I've come in dead last there more than once, but it's also one of the places where I've been able to gut out some of my few wins, made possible by the fact that Rich, Jeremie, Sue, David and the crew always stayed committed to putting on races that reward scrappiness (also known as the persistence of those who don't have a lot of skill or speed) as much as they do speed. In other words- they've perfected the art of putting on races that, as the PIC put it last year, "make you question who you are." Personally, I think that's a good thing because, in the end, you end up somehow better or stronger or at least more self-aware-even if your ass is raw, your stomach hurts and your knees are bloody.
Every year, the above trophy goes to the person who has accrued the most points for the year at Hillside. You get to keep the trophy for the year, your name goes on the back but you have to return it the following year. We chicks have never won it. Even though we've gone from sometimes only having 1-2 of us at a race to once having 20+, there still simply weren't enough of us for anyone to rack up enough points to beat the guys and there was only one trophy. This year, since the men's winner was a repeat of last year, Rich decided to add a women's class. Apparently, yours truly gutted out enough laps on that trail to take it home.
Rumor has it I'm supposed to "share" it with the men's winner. However, I was also told that the original idea for this trophy was that whoever had it for the year was supposed to take it around and take pictures of it. That said, Mr. Colbert is going to have to chase me around a bit if he wants possession of it because I plan to tote that heavy-ass trophy all over the place and pose with it. As someone put it at dinner, "She no longer poses for pictures without the trophy."
Funny how some things come when you most need them. After a rough end to last year's racing, I'm now ready to find some new adventures so I can keep the spirit of this thing alive.....and take its picture in some really cool places. (Of course, Big E has already become my "trophy sherpa" since I can barely lift the thing myself.)
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Let's Get Together
For some reason, my love of reading about the world often leads me to choose books about serial killers but that's probably another blog post entirely. Or something I should see a shrink about.
Anyway- today I couldn't resist this book. I went to the library right after teaching a particularly difficult class, the kind that left me wondering how in the world our current 10 year olds are ever going to function in the world as grown ups. Of course the obvious answer to that question probably has something to do with the fact that by the time they are grown ups, the world will be very different. Perhaps by then they will function in it much better than I will because it will be a world very much influenced by them.
To be frank, that scares the hell out of me.
Why? Because many of the kids I see today have no idea how to interact with a human face to face. They're completely unable to read body language and just as completely unaware of how their own might affect someone else. You can't really blame them. Their parents were probably busy texting or taking Facebook photos as they gave birth.
You know it happens.
Needless to say, I was rather intrigued by this book on the shelf. I'm not the most social person on the planet by any means, but I do love a good conversation. A real one. One that does not involve my phone. One with eye contact and emotions and body language. One that doesn't get edited. One that could involve tears or hysterical laughter or a hug.
I don't care what anyone says. Nothing on the internet or your phone can ever replace a hug.
One of the cool things I've noticed about ditching Facebook is that it leaves me more available for real conversations. Not available in the sense of having more time but "available" in the sense that when I see someone, I'm more present in the conversation because since I haven't seen the "updates" of their life on Facebook, I'm more genuinely interested in listening to them. I've realized that I spent a lot of years knowing what people did but never knowing how they felt. No wonder, as the author of the book had pointed out by page two, our younger generation seems to lack empathy. They are growing up in a world where the most used forms of communication lack emotion. I wonder how long this can really go on before it's not just our communication that lacks emotion, but our selves.
I don't know about you, but I don't want that to happen. I embrace the hysterical laughter, the occasional anger and the heartfelt tears that are sometimes part of a real conversation. They're all part of the human connection that makes our lives meaningful.
That said, let's get together for a conversation. I might even give you a hug. (Or cry on your shoulder...)
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