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criticaloversite

Mt Clemens

Member Since 2004

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Monday Jun 18, 2007

Jun 18, 2007
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After being roused from my Valium coma by Steph, as she's known to do, I was treated to a gyro sandwich at the local Coney Island. I know, they're pretty...well...plain, but I've got a special place in my heart for them.

While at said restaurant, Watson rekindled an interesting point of inquiry in me regarding people's names. I'm absolutely horrible with remembering names, however, as a counter to that, I will probably remember your face until I die. I believe the point that I'll remember your name with me falls somewhere after about 7 or 8 random encounters, or 2 to 3 personal meetings. I don't know why this is, however, I tend to blame the pot. And getting hit in the head a lot.

Thing is, though, think about how often you actually use someone's name when speaking to the person in question. We barely do it. It almost seems as if your name is an unecessary additive in immediate interaction, a footnote to be used only in your absence as a reference tool. I think, perhaps, one of the exceptions to this is during sex, however I personally am generally too busy issuing...we'll call them suggestions...like I'm directing a movie.

What contradicts this lack of name-calling, if you will, with me, is my general attitude towards saying a person's name for them once in awhile as a token to verify that you're paying attention. I've always figured it was the polite thing to do, and that people like it, despite me feeling like I'm basically just validating a parking ticket. I mean, if I'm talking to you, odds are, I'm not going anywhere. I love conversation, particularly with new people.

Huh.


Say my name, betch.
paz:
I really like how you didn't complain at all in this entry.
Jun 19, 2007

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