Wednesday, June 29, 2005


My brother and sister like to talk on the phone. Both of them call me, frequently. I do not particularly like to talk on the phone. When either my brother or sister tells me a story, they revel in each detail, telling me word for word what the other person or persons said, complete with mimicry of tone and phrasing. The telling is, for me, generally more interesting than what is being told. That said, I still get impatient, and try to end the conversation as quickly as possible without being rude. My mother was the same way; she liked to talk on the phone too. I am not like them. In fact, as phones become more and more omnipresent, I begin to dislike them even more. Ironically, though, I was one of the early cell-phone users. I hate the thought of being unfindable. But if you call me, I won't really want to talk so much. Don't take it personally.

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