I make a habit of spending 30 minutes each weekday learning something.
Or, at least reading outside of my usual interests, following interesting links, etc.
Today, I clicked on a link to [improve my communication][https://www.cnbc.com/2017/03/02/the-3-minutes-it-takes-to-read-this-will-improve-your-conversations-forever.html], and while most of it was quite good, I’d think, one thing really stood out for me.
Questions about specifics lead people to give you answers that are not generic.
Example: Don’t ask, “What was fun about your trip?” Instead, drill down and ask, “What was the single most fun moment of the trip?”
Oh, please no. Don’t ask me about:
- Most fun
- Best ever
- coolest thing
I may be a total freak of nature, but my brain doesn’t work like that.
Sure, I have a few glib answers to favorite movie (Blazing Saddles) and best album of all time (Bat Out of Hell), but even those don’t apply all of the time, because reasons.
And asking me my favorite is a good way to shut down a conversation.
My brain stops. Or doesn’t stop. It overloads, trying to compare so many amazing pieces of my life that I enjoy/love/adore for disparate reasons in different times of my life, to narrow it down to a sing unrevocable TRUTH.
And I get hung up.
Maybe it’s me.
Perhaps I need more RAM.
Or, perhaps I don’t filter things as well as others do. Like, even tiny pleasures suddenly crowd into my head when people ask me my favorite sexual experience ever.
- Was it the first Bad Dragon play Pet and I did, and the discovery of ‘scaled for pleasure’ as a thing?
- The 3-hour kinky threesome that left me aphasic?
- The wild roll of a full night of it, starting with a hot tub in the snow?
- The time I cried from overwhelming love as he moved in me?
- That quick (and hard) ass fuck in front of a mirror?
How do I choose? I don’t. I can’t.
Instead, ask me what makes me feel filled up. Or what make me laugh during sex. Or what about different toys makes me love them (or not).
Oh, I know these are not as easy as “What is your favorite…” and I’m a tiny bit sorry about that. But not a lot.
After all, I’m giving you fair warning.