And now we are thirty-three.

I don't hate A Beautiful Mind; it's merely an average film, the weakest of the five nominations for Best Picture. Russell Crowe was deserving of Best Actor (though he did not win), and Jennifer Connelly of Best Actress (though she only won as Best Supporting Actress), but I didn't think the rest of the film was noteworthy in any respect. Kris hated the directing and I thought the script was weak. It wasn't Best Picture.

Andrew did show up yesterday, and I'm glad he did. It would have been nice if Mac could have joined us, too, but we had fun on our own.

We played Baldur's Gate II, a computer role-playing game. I wasn't keen on the game when Andrew first mentioned it, and agreed to play it just so I could spend time with him. As it turns out, the game is entertaining. It seems deep, and is certainly thoughtfully designed. I enjoyed it.

The game wasn't the best part of the day. The best part of the day was seeing Andrew again, spending time with him as a friend. We didn't talk much, but things felt right, comfortable. It gives me hope that things may be returning to normal after months of strangeness. I hope to see him more in the near future.

Kris and I had dinner at Jeremy and Jennifer's tonight; we had a great time. For various reasons, the meal was thrown together at the last minute, yet it was quite tasty: roast chicken, fresh cornbread, a tasty salad, and root beer floats.

After dinner we spent some time playing with Hank and Scout. Harrison had a rough evening. He got "time out" for disobeying Jeremy, he walked off a kitchen chair and smacked his head on the floor, Emma inadvertently smacked him in the face with a book, etc. He asked me to read him Frog and Toad (and the story of the cookies), but I insisted on calling them Dog and Todd. This was obviously unacceptable so he told me, "Kris can read the book." Even after I promised to read the story correctly, he took the book to Kris and had her read it. Emma seized the opportunity to have me play with her instead.

After Kris finished reading to Hank, and I finished playing with Scout, and their parents "put the kids down", the four adults sat and talked. We had a good discussion.

Several weeks ago I had asked Jenn, via e-mail, why the MNF group never has serious discussions, about personal life, about politics, about world events, about books, about anything. The group seems to exist and interact on a superficial level. "Do the serious discussions take place at bible study and Sunday school?" I asked.

Jenn answered tonight, saying that she thinks that the group does have serious discussions, but that they are limited because mostly we meet in a large group with many young children. Kris pointed out that these kind of conversations had never occurred before the children arrived, either.

Jeremy and Jennifer think that serious discussions do occur in the religious settings, but that even there some of the people are unwilling to be forthcoming. They believe, correctly I think, that many of the group members are not comfortable sharing their personal lives or discussing subjects that might be controversial. All four of us agree that many members of the group are deeply afraid of confrontation in any guise.

We talked about the manner in which the group interacts. We talked about how Jeremy and I are both very direct. Jeremy admitted that he is often too confrontational, and that this can make it difficult for him to achieve his objectives. I admitted that I lack tact, I'm too direct, and that this makes it difficult for me to achieve my objectives.

We talked about how these different styles affect communication and perception. My sister-in-law, Stephanie, and I are complete opposites in many regards. She values appearances and peace. I value intentions and honesty. Neither set of values is necessarily better than the other set. Problems arise when neither of us is willing to view the world from the other's perspective.

An illustrative anecdote: A couple of years ago the MNF group spent a weekend in Bend. During the stay, I spent a lot of time outside in the hot tub, a bastion of warmth amidst the January snow. I brought a nice big towel from home so that I wouldn't have to drip drip drip my way into the house. On the final morning of the trip, I went to find my towel so that I could take one last dip in the hot tub. It wasn't where I had left it. I asked around but nobody knew where my towel was. When I found Steph, she was in the laundry room folding all of the towels, which she had just washed. "You washed my towel?" I asked, puzzled, probably in a tone more confrontational than I had intended. "Here -- just take it," she snapped and threw me my towel. I left this encounter feeling hurt, and I'm sure Stephanie did too.

What does this story illustrate? It illustrates that Stephanie and I have two different views of the world, neither of which is better than the other. These two views are somewhat at odds with each other. Stephanie likes clean towels, and thought that by doing the laundry for everybody else she was being nice. She felt my response to her actions was rude. I don't care whether my towel has been washed in the past week, let alone in the past day, and I'd prefer that somebody ask me before taking my towel to wash it. I felt her actions toward me were rude.

(A similar, fictional example: If I were to ask Steph, "Do you like my haircut?" she would say, "Yes, your hair looks great" whether or not my hair did, indeed, look great. She would consider any other answer to be rude. If Steph were to ask me, "Do you like my haircut?" I would answer "Yes" or "No" according to whether or not I liked her haircut. I would consider any answer other than an honest one to be rude.)

Jeremy and Jennifer and Kris and I talked about how this story is indicative of the way in which different people in the MNF group act, and why it is difficult for this group to have meaningful conversations. Many of the people (Jeff, Steph, and Kim, for example) are reluctant to say anything that might offend other members of the group; they are afraid to voice an opinion because the opinion may be controversial. Others (Jeremy, me, and, to some extent, Kris) are not afraid to voice our opinions, are actually too overbearing, squashing other voices in the group.

So. The four of us had a good discussion tonight. On the drive home, Kris noted that Jenn probably couldn't have raised this as a topic for discussion in the MNF group because people would have been afraid to discuss it. The conversation would die before it was even born.

I left the discussion feeling like Tigger after he's bounced himself off the page: sadder and humbler. But in a good way. I recognize that over the past decade my personality has changed drastically. I am no longer patient with other people, I am more aggressive than assertive (there's nothing wrong with assertiveness), though I can see another person's viewpoint I do little with this knowledge.

Jeremy and I have both decided to reread Dale Carnegie's chestnut, How to Win Friends and Influence People. Yes, this book is so old as to have become trite. Yes, this book contains advice that slimy salespeople have abused for decades. But it also contains some good advice about effective interpersonal communication. This is a skill that I used to possess; I'd like to regain it.

On this day at foldedspace.org

2005 — 36   How a thirty-six-year-old J.D. celebrates...

2004 — Middle-Aged Man   As of today, I consider myself middle-aged. I am thirty-five. Childhood is a distant memory, and young adulthood has passed away. I am middle-aged.

— Transfer in Progress   The site transfer is in progress.

2003 — 34   Thanks, everyone, for your birthday e-mails, phone calls, and cards.