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Timing is important

So today, Lilla calls me at ten til 1, waking me up, telling me I have an hour to get to her parent's house so I can ride with them to Lilla's recital (which I did indeed want to go to). One hour's warning for this, and the last time she told me about it was days ago, and she didn't even know when it was.

I was, of course, irritated. First of all, she should have called me yesterday to remind me of it, tell me WHEN it was, so I could put it in my phone to be woken up in time. One hour to go from being asleep to being ready for a recital is nearly impossible, especially on a Sunday, when there's 30 minutes or more between buses. It takes more than an hour to get to Lilla's parent's house by bus on a Sunday. I would have had to forgo breakfast to get there in time, and that's not something I can do. Whenever I've tried, I've nearly passed out after an hour.

So naturally, I did not make it there by the impossible deadline. Though I did make it close enough to her place that it would have taken her mom five minutes, if that, to pick me up where I was at, and Lilla knew this because I told her so, at the time, when she called again. So, because her impatient (and, I suspect, selfish-to-the-point-of-psychopathy) mother couldn't be arsed to go maybe five minutes out of her way to pick me up, Lilla instead gave me the address and directions to where the recital was. I repeated them back to her several times to make sure I had the information right, and she said I did.

Her directions were completely worthless, however. She said the line 15 bus would take me right there, if I got off at 35th; it did not. The address she gave me was 3505 SE Tibbles or Tiddles or something like that, an address that everyone I asked (even Google Maps, later) agrees does not exist. There IS no Tibbles or Tiddles or any other T streets in that area except for Taylor, and Lilla insists that wasn't it.

She said something about a church. I found a church, asked the guy at the door (pastor, I think) if there was a recital there. There was not. So I looked up and down 35th, trying to find a 3505 at one of the streets intersecting it, and found nothing. After half an hour of fruitless searching with utterly worthless directions to a nonexistent address, I gave up and went to Starbucks, leaving messages on Lilla's parent's home machine since Lilla almost never answers her cell phone. (Why she even bothers having a cell phone, when she only answers it once out of every 40 attempts to call her, and takes at least 24 hours to respond to text messages, I have no idea.)

Then when I explained all this to her, when she called a third time, she got annoyed with me. Ha! Lilla, annoyed with ME, over something that was almost entirely her fault? It is to laugh! *Sigh* I don't know WHAT was going through her mind today. Let us review:

1. It was ridiculous for her to expect me to be awake, when the last I knew, she didn't even know what time the silly thing was, and she's lucky I got as much sleep as I did (6 hours), considering I had forgotten entirely about the silly thing, as she KNEW I would. She knows I have a memory like a steel sieve.

2. She should have reminded me the day before, so I could put it in my phone. But she didn't.

3. I'm irritated at her mother for being too impatient to go less than 5 minutes out of her way to pick me up.

4. Lilla should have known better than to be the one to give me directions anyway; this (Lilla) is the girl who gets lost going from the bathroom to the kitchen, for cryin' out loud. Lilla giving me directions anywhere is like a Saint Bernard trying to teach someone calculus.

5. Most importantly, she should have given me TWO hours to get there, not one. Especially on a Sunday!

But at this point, I'm kind of used to friends doing things despite the fact that they should know better. Brooke still hasn't learned that I don't like being touched without explicit permission, nor does she listen when I keep telling her in detail the fucked-up ways my brain works, then gets annoyed with me when she forgets to take these facts into account, which is even more annoying... she's hardly NT herself, you'd think she'd learn. Also, she KNOWS I'm hard of hearing, and keeps acting as though I can hear perfectly, getting annoyed with me when I point out that what she's said sounds like "Wah wah wah wah wuh wah" to me.

And more importantly, I have lost count of how many times I've told Brooke that MY BRAIN OFTEN CANNOT TELL THE DIFFERENCE between voices and background noise; she keeps talking at me suddenly, reading out stuff without so much as a "Hey Fay, listen to this," and by the time my brain realizes that the sound its hearing is human speech and maybe it ought to switch gears, I've already lost half of what she's said. I've only told her this about umpteen-thousand times, and she still gets irritated with me when she has to repeat things, even though it's her own damned fault for not making sure my brain is in the right gear to process speech first.

Oh, and I shouldn't even get STARTED on how many times I've explained about the times my brain is in the right gear for speech, I'm listening, I hear every word clearly, and STILL none of it makes an ounce of sense for some reason...

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1136081.html
You can comment either here or there.

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
kengr
Apr. 22nd, 2013 02:35 am (UTC)
And more importantly, I have lost count of how many times I've told Brooke that MY BRAIN OFTEN CANNOT TELL THE DIFFERENCE between voices and background noise; she keeps talking at me suddenly, reading out stuff without so much as a "Hey Fay, listen to this," and by the time my brain realizes that the sound its hearing is human speech and maybe it ought to switch gears, I've already lost half of what she's said. I've only told her this about umpteen-thousand times, and she still gets irritated with me when she has to repeat things, even though it's her own damned fault for not making sure my brain is in the right gear to process speech first.

Fay, they way mammal brains are wired, they require 10 correct "trainings" or more *without* "errors". *One* error before the 10 repeats of the "right" way invalidates the entire "training session".

Which means that because you *do* hear (or mostly hear) things more than half the time, your corrections *can't* work to "train" me or anybody else. At least not without *thousands* of repeats. And a lot more consistency.

To have any chance of it sticking, you're going to have to remind me *every time* I talk to you *even when you do hear it*. Yes, it'll be a pain. For both of us. But it's the only thing that has a chance of training me to do things with *you* differently than I would with someone else.

Oh, and I shouldn't even get STARTED on how many times I've explained about the times my brain is in the right gear for speech, I'm listening, I hear every word clearly, and STILL none of it makes an ounce of sense for some reason...

Try "damn few". Seriously. You may think you've told me this, but if you have it wasn't phrased remotely like this. The problem you described above is not anything I recall you ever mentioning. I have trouble trying to come up with things you have told me that are even close to this.
fayanora
Apr. 22nd, 2013 03:20 am (UTC)
Try "damn few". Seriously. You may think you've told me this, but if you have it wasn't phrased remotely like this. The problem you described above is not anything I recall you ever mentioning. I have trouble trying to come up with things you have told me that are even close to this.

I tell you this every time you get annoyed with me because of it. Every bloody time. And it happens often enough that it ought to at least sound familiar by now.

But thanks for the info on mammal brains. I'll try to remember to do that. Maybe one day it'll give me the excuse to say "She CAN be taught!" ;-)
kengr
Apr. 22nd, 2013 11:26 pm (UTC)
I tell you this every time you get annoyed with me because of it. Every bloody time. And it happens often enough that it ought to at least sound familiar by now.

After thinking about it for a bit I think I know what's going on.

What you say is, essentially "I can hear you but not understand you".

Which means "I can tell that you are talking but not make out the words" (at least in common usage).

What you stated in the post is something *very* different (and sufficiently uncommon that there isn't a normal "shorthand" for it). Namely, "I can make out the words but the words aren't making any sense."

The former is an auditory deficit (ie the eatrs or links between the ears and brain are not working well). The latter is a *processing* deficit (the *language* processing centers in the brain aren't working right) and can't be helped by hearing aids, amplifiers, etc.

A similarly odd malfunction is what often happens to me in dreams. I can read a sign but a page of written or printed stuff is either "I know the gist of it" or else. The words won't resolve. I can tell they are words, but other than them being assemblages of letters and spaces, they can't be processed (ie I know that there are letters and spaces, but I can't even ID the individual letters beyond the fact that they *are* letters in the Latin alphabet)
irishgirl1984
Apr. 15th, 2017 02:34 pm (UTC)
Timing Is Important
Timing’s definitely important. I guess the end of my previous marriage did bring some good things. I found Sean “Mixingk” Keffer. It’s been a year since we’ve been together, and both of us will soon have our ultimate wish come true. My parents will soon be getting a new puppy, and my mom has already told us that we can help with the training process. Our puppy will be an e-motional support companion, going to nursing homes and supportive living places to spend time with the residents and staff.
It’ll be nice having a dog again—a late birthday present for me and early for Sean. I hope that we can also get to name the dog. Because we regularly watch “Lucky Dog” on CBS each Saturday. It’d be fun to use the techniques from the show to train the dog for the purpose that my mom’s actually wanting to do with the dog.
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

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