Cordelia ,'End of Days'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Some neurolingists say exactly this...that the brain doesn't hear the 'not' words.
That reminds me of a conversation I had with my dad a few weeks ago, when I was visiting. Dad: "I'm going to the grocery store -- do you need anything?" Me: "Yeah, rice milk. They only carry one brand, and I want the one that says 'Original' or 'Plain' or something like that -- it's the one that doesn't say 'Vanilla.' Got that?" Dad: "Right. Vanilla."
Squishing back! Hi back!
Squish again!
My In-Laws gave me this: [link] for Xmas, despite the fact that I have never worn a watch in the 18 years they have known me, I hate fake diamonds and have tiny hands, so the face is as big as my arm. Blue plastic and glitz, it's so me.
Okay, I was prepared to like that watch based on your description (except the diamonds, which I don't actually like, real or not) and it's fugly.
basking in the squishes
I'm waiting for someone to get home and check their front door for a package. The wait is driving me batty. What if they don't go home? What if the package isn't there? What if they don't like what's in it?
I'm basking in squishes on tenterhooks. Weird.
Squish, Deena!
Are you keeping warm this winter? (No reason.)
I am! As a matter of fact, I am, right this VERY moment, wearing the most luxuriously soft red scarfy thing ever. It's a gorgeous red, sort of cranberryish. It came from someone really smart in Chicago, who writes with the same kind of silver pen I write with, on occasion. Hmmmm.
I'd say former phase but Duranies are forever.
Word, my sistah.
Moral: I should have said what I DO like.
But, see, I think you were clear on what you don't like. It wasn't ambiguous. Don't like hearts. Don't like orange and yellow. Don't like expensive. Don't like necklaces.
Maybe it really is a thing where he heard words but only heard every other word.
My mom and I figured out each others' taste in gifts about two years before she died. But those were two nice Christmases, gift-wise. Now my sister sends me very detailed lists for her family, and I send her lists with links to the exact items (including size and color, where relevant) for myself. If I don't like what I get nowadays, I have only myself to blame. I'm all for knowing a person and shopping for something that will meet their tastes and needs, but I only see the family a couple of times a year. That's decades in teenager fashion time or 20-something geek tech time.
Moral: I should have said what I DO like.
But that's actually really hard to do, and can be pretty restrictive. No hearts should not be that complicated an instruction for an adult. We're into learned helplessness territory here, and I'm not sure I'm down with that.