Half pickled Thursday afternoons; don't you people understand that I'm supposed to be working/

{Riff} Indeed. I remember with fondness the silly word games and references in which my family indulged over the evening meal. When I finally went to a job I found that all of my witty(?) remarks simply floated above. I was, to be honest, devastated. Nevertheless, I have finally found a 'home' in the various M.C. style web sites. Whilst my 'witty' remarks are not alway appreciated and, having met many who are far more clever than myself, I find that I rather like this community.

Sorry for the pathetic overtones, but it's true.

I'm not that good at small talk, I find it tiring and often don't know what to talk about, and so just lapse into silence, listen, watch, etc. If it's something I'm interested in, I can talk about/around it, or if I have nothing to say, can listen to someone burble on, and ask a question or two, or add something here or there (often surprising people, in the process, it seems). I'm learning to ask questions. I'm always much more comfortable with one or two other people, or in small groups rather than large ones, and definitely preferably people I know. I don't know about any men/women difference. But I am willing to let conversations pause.

Some people find this disconcerting, or think I'm boring, or (more likely) stupid. *shrugs*. It's lonely sometimes, but places like this are very good, and I think I've learned a great deal. Thanks.

[flerdle] I'm exactly the same, and I quite agree.

The "other one" out of the disorders that manifest themselves in compulsive menky collecting types of behaviour is Asperger Syndrome, believed in recent years to be a sort of autism-lite. It basically is intended to be an umbrella label for those with somewhat impaired social skills, a preoccupation with abstract hobbies on which they "perseverate" (e.g. focus on to the exclusion of all else for long periods of time, including when talking to someone else) and who find it difficult to empathise or instinctively understand other people's motivations. For a time I believed I was aspergic until I actually went out and met some people who really were and had the chance to compare. This was a painful exercise which involved listening politely to the full details of the history of South West trains. After years of neglect it has become an extremely fashionable diagnosis recently for children, and, it seems to me, is overapplied.