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9 December, 2005

Tiny talk

To keep her current job, Jack has (regrettably, necessarily) sacrificed some of her principles and is attempting to engage in (or at least respond to) small talk with her office colleagues.  She speaks my mind:

I do not care for small talk. I am not interested in the dull minutae of people's lives and the swapping of my own that passes for everyday conversation. I am not sufficiently interested most in other people to find it engaging and don't find myself fascinating enough to relate my own. And that distaste combined with a certain shyness means unless I actually have something to say I am stilted, self-conscious and uncomfortable when made to talk. I'd like to think of it as sexily mysterious linguistic economy but you'd probably call me a snob; we'll settle in the middle and just give me the lazy sobriequet of anti-social and both be glad that this translates to long periods of silence rather than a need to tell you What I Did This Weekend.
Read the whole entry. I also share Jack's view of irrelevant relatives. I haven't spoken to any family member more distant than my parents and sister for years – decades, on my father's side – but the memory of downright boring family visits no doubt contributes to my ongoing and increasing dislike of the christmas period.
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