A man can’t go along indefinitely carrying around in his pocket a key that doesn’t fit anything.

—J.D. Salinger, “A Girl I Knew”


I’m Being a Rebel and Not Writing About Mother’s Day

Okay, I lied.  Brief bit about Mother’s Day: I was planning on cleaning the house after my parents went to bed, but it’s midnight and my dad still hasn’t gone to bed.  And I’m starting to get tired.  Darn it.

Anyway, in the spirit of doing nice things, I thought I’d talk about love languages.  Wow, I sound like a talk show host or something–but a really lame one.  My dad brought to my attention the other day that a person can “speak” and “hear” different love languages.  I suppose this isn’t quite as revolutionary of an idea as it struck me at the time, but it’s interesting.  It also provides quite a problem in looking to not offend people.  I generally just assume that if a person gives a lot of hugs, then they’d want a lot of hugs in return.  But maybe that’s not actually the case.  Maybe the person who gives a lot of hugs wants to be told she’s pretty in return.  But how on earth would someone not super close to her figure that out?  I don’t generally like to ask questions unless I have some idea of an answer to them, but I have no idea in this case.  People are not my strong point, not my specialty.  For as much people watching as I do, I don’t understand them.  I’m getting better, but it’s a struggle.