In an effort to begin checking things off my insanely long California bucket list, Saturday night I ventured out with some friends to the LA Galaxy game. It was my first soccer game since I saw “Tatu” play with the Dallas Sidekicks. {I know. I am probably dating myself. But there is no hiding it anyway. I am 35. Or at least I will be Wednesday. Ugh. Pardon my digression, I’m pretty sure it is just another symptom of my old age.}

Back to the soccer game. Or actually back to what my ears bleed during the soccer game.

Two male contemporaries sat directly behind us. And for an hour or so they grated on each of our nerves as they loud-talked about marathoning. One of the men had completed several races. And the other was just beginning his training.

It wasn’t ONLY the deafening decibal at which they spoke that made them annoying. It was also the way in which they conversed with each other.

One spoke without listening. One spoke dropping big words and accomplishments so that he appeared uber-knowledgable. One spoke overstating his meager skills so he might fit in. One gave half-hearted yet wholly-unconvincing assurances. One spoke with an air of superiority. One spoke with a hint of insecurity. And they both took themselves, and their running, way too seriously.

The unease during their exchange was so apparent, it united me and my friends in a mix of agitation and hilarity. But as I reflected back on it this morning, I wondered if someone, anyone, might overhear some of my conversations and observe the same lame conversation skills.

Yep. I fear they might.

And so this is the song I sing, the prayer I pray,

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. Psalm 19:14

And may I not sound like the foolish idiot I regretfully am time and time again.

Have you witnessed, or displayed, any lame conversation skills in recent memory? 

Today I am contributing to the Cultivate Her blog. Below is a preview. You have to hop over there to read the whole thing…

When I was in school, I was kind of a “crammer.” You know…I’d wait until a few days before the test, try to jam everything I might possibly need to know into my brain, ace the test (this might or might not be an exaggeration), and then forget everything?

All this to say..I remember very few facts or formulas that we were taught in school. (Don’t ask me to list the state capitals, Presidents, or chemical elements. All those things went in one ear, hung out for awhile, but then flew out the other.)

But there is one formula I remember. And truth be known it has helped me out of a pinch or two.

I took this peer counseling class and they taught us a quick, but very helpful, formula for assertive communication (aka how to get your point across without offending friend and colleagues).

(click here to read more…)

I am going to Bonnaroo tomorrow afternoon with a friend. As we bantered back and forth about what we’d need for the weekend, she asked me if I was going to bring a “book bag.” I said, “a what?” wondering why in the world I would take a bag full of books to a music festival. I work for a publisher and love books but that just seems WEIRD. She quickly clarified that she meant a “backpack.” She just grew up some backwards place where they call “backpacks” “book bags.” She preceded to tell me that she calls a “trunk” a “boot” which threw me for a total loop.

"Backpack" or "Book bag"???

This confusing conversation got me thinking about how regionally people use different words to describe basic things. The most common would be the whole “soda”, “pop”, “Coke” thing. (Be sure to check out this map that spells out the most common name for soft drinks by county.) But here are some others that just make me giggle: (more…)