Roundup and ramble

Mark Bittman encourages you to make some real food and reiterates that it is neither complicated, nor expensive. James Gorman encourages you to eat invasive species.

***
I encourage you to eat whole grains. Really, I just encourage you to figure out whatever works for you, but to be honest about it.

Just now
Mom: I think porridge (kasha) does make you fat.
A.: If you pour a cup of cream into it, it certainly will.
Mom: No, I think it's the kasha.
A.: [Shrug]

Yesterday

Mom: I think you've put on weight.
A.: [Shrug]
Mom: Why don't you have sour cream with your soup?
A.: Because I don't like it. Never did.
Mom: Are you sure you're not just being politically correct?
A.: I'm not sharp enough to grasp the connection between sour cream and political correctness. Which is not to say that there aren't "political" reasons for not eating dairy, but that's another issue.

***
Do you remember, shortly after RM moved in--we'd already had the 'I need space' conversation but there was no hostility? It was really maybe the first interaction we had after the first 'I need space' conversation, which is why I was surprised that he was bugging me as I was sitting there minding my own business (it was also before I understood that he was incapable of not bugging me whenever I was present, and therefore, the only way to get some peace was to relocate from the common spaces of the house to my office. It was also before he started breaking into my office, but that's another story).

Anyway, I was sitting there, minding my own business--maybe reading the paper, maybe blogging--I don't remember. He was sitting on the opposite couch, talking to Gracie. Baby talking to her, actually.

RM, in a silly voice: My name is Gracie. I live with A.

[Pause]

RM: Do you hear me?
A.: Yes, I hear you. I'm trying not to hear you, because I'm busy, but I do hear you.
RM: Oh, well, it's not me talking. It's Gracie.

I bring this up because "do you hear me" is one of the most irritating rhetorical habits ever. And one on which mom relies regularly.

Mom: So, then she decided to shop for jewelry parts, but the stores were closed. Do you hear me??
A.: Yes. I hear you.
Mom: What did you hear?
A.: That she went to shop for jewelry parts but the stores were closed.
Mom: Anyway, she needed to get everything done for the crafts fair... [talks for five more minutes] and a lot of her granddaughter's friends were going to be there... do you hear me.
A.: Yes. Yes I hear you. Why wouldn't I hear you??

Here's a public service announcement to all you extroverts all there: if you need to constantly ask the people you're talking to whether they hear you, you may instead want to ask yourself whether you're boring the crap out of them and whether it wouldn't be best to change the subject to something where you were sure they were hearing you. Or maybe your stories are not boring, but just long. Or maybe they're fine but it's not a good time for people to listen to you. All of those might apply to RM. Here's the one that applies to mom: not everyone has the same rhetorical style. I know other extroverts who are offended because they don't get what they consider sufficient 'feedback.' Not everyone is going to nod and comment at every sentence. Constantly interrupting your own talking to ask whether someone hears you isn't conducive to relaxing conversation.