Friday, October 19, 2012

Week in Seven Words #141

When I go somewhere new and don't know anybody, instead of hanging around awkwardly with my drink and thinking about who I should approach and whether anyone will approach me, I try to find a bookcase; then I can half-browse for books, half-scope out the room without feeling like a spotlight is on me.

When shouting/singing/dancing/whirling people pour into the room and fill it wall-to-wall, I slip outside for a breather.

Why are so many educators humorless? When they make jokes they look pained and nervous, as if they've colored outside the lines and won't get a sticker for their work.

As he lectures us in a nasal voice, admitting no interruptions, he reminds me of a tortoise. A pedantic tortoise in an pea green coat. Thinking about him this way makes him more human to me.

Passive-aggressive silence is more effective, and obnoxious, than an explicit renunciation.

The Prayer for Rain permeates us.

At last the heat is on, and the floor no longer feels like permafrost.


naida said...

I hope you enjoyed the outing. I'm not a big fan of mingling and making small talk and half browsing for books sounds like a good idea.
Great week in words! Have a nice weekend :)

HKatz said...

Thanks Naida - I managed to combine the book-browsing with the small-talk :)

Relyn Lawson said...

OK - MUST steal the book idea. I hate being somewhere where I know no one. I bet the books will help. What don't books help, come to think of it?