Log: Laurie and Haller

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Another backdated one, this time to the 23rd July 2009

Laurie finds Haller enjoying the summer sun, and the two talk about choosing your battles.



Laurie whistled softly to herself as she carried the small picnic basket and the fishing rod down toward the mansion's lake. Sure, there wasn't a lot of fish in there, but sometimes fishing wasn't about what you caught, but the fact that you were relaxing and letting the warm summer sun give you a healthy dose of vitemin D.

It wasn't till she'd almost tripped over him that she saw Haller laying in the grass.

"Opps," Laurie muttered, jumping nimbly over him. "Didn't see you there."

Jim cracked an eyelid as her shadow passed over his face. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Fishing?"

The older man was stretched out on the grass, hands behind his head. He didn't try to get up because he doubted he could. While managing to escape the last mission without any serious injuries, the left side of his face and most of his torso had still been badly bruised. His knees were also an angry purple, but that he blamed on his own panicked diving. It was bearable as long as he kept movement to a minimum.

"Fishing," Laurie confirmed with a sunny grin. She was feeling decidely chipper today, she supposed having everyone back in one piece, if a little battered, gave you a definite edge on the glooms. "Getting a tan?"

"Basically. I don't think it'll get me yelled at by the medical types. It's basically just bedrest with a side of fresh air."

"Well, not as long as you remembered the sunblock," Laurie noted with a lightly teasing note. "Then the good doctors might make you sit through the horrors of skin cancer video they put us through in health classes."

Jim let his eyes close again. "I say bring it on. I grew up on Muir. I can take any number of no-smoking posters and weird STD videos."

Laurie shook her head slightly and squinted up at the sun, before looking down at the man laid out in the grass, "Want company?"

The telepath's eyebrows rose. "Sure," he replied. She'd said that with the tenor of someone with something on her mind.

Laurie placed the basket she'd been holding on the ground, and then flipped the backpack from her back and placed it carefully beside it. Then, leaning the fishing rod against the two bags, she took a seat beside Haller, her legs stretched out in front of her as she leaned against her hands.

"There," she said, almost to herself. "Have you eaten?" she asked, wondering how she was going to bring up what she wanted to ask. Food seemed a fairly safe topic of conversation to be having while she thought her way through the more difficult things.

With a soft grunt, Jim managed to push himself into a sitting position. He suspected this was going to be a conversation that warranted being somewhere around Laurie's eyelevel. "Yes -- a little more regularly than usual, really. I pushed myself a little, which is fine, but my body's demanding compensation."

"I made a picnic for myself, if you want something," Laurie said, opening her basket and pulling out a box of what appeared to be potato salad. Her fingers played over the clasps on top of the box for a moment before she placed it on the ground and gave Haller a somewhat more serious look. "Also, I um, I wanted to say sorry."

Ignoring the food, Haller merely raised an eyebrow. "For what?

"Being such a brat, I suppose," Laurie answer, a frown making a soft furrow in her brow as she pulled a plate out of the basket and some utensils. "I never really treated you with the respect you deserved, just saw you as someone who needed to be cared for, like everyone else here really. Well, sort of everyone, some people seem more able to take care of themselves then others. "

Jim laughed. "Under the circumstances, it's kind of excusable -- I seem to give off that vibe, and forgetting to eat every other day doesn't help. But thank you for the apology. And for realizing it might be an issue. As a personality trait, it can cause problems later on." He gave her a half-smile. "Though you may have noticed that for yourself."

"Somewhat," Laurie noted with a wry look, placing some potato salad onto the plate and then reaching back into the basket for a sandwich. "I'm trying to fix things but it's taking time. I don't think people really trust me any more."

"There's no good shortcut for that, unfortunately," Jim admitted. "But if you're serious about changing, the best thing you can do is persevere. Monitor yourself, and if someone starts pointing out they think you're backsliding, take some time to consider it. Backsliding happens to the best of us, so don't beat yourself up too hard if it happens to you."

He picked at the grass with a scarred hand. "And weird as it sounds -- don't worry too much about what other people think of you. Some people have a hard time adjusting a first impression, and that's not your problem. All you need to worry about is doing the right thing. The rest will follow."

"I think that's been the hardest thing," Laurie admitted, placing the sandwich on the plate and then pushing things back into the basket. She placed the plate on her lap and simply looked at it for a moment before turning her eyes back to Haller. "It's probably not much different from how it felt for them when I wouldn't change my opinions though. I don't exactly think I'm wrong about everything, but I'm trying to understand more. It sucks not knowing when to know you're right and screw everyone else, and when to listen, especially when people can get hurt."

"I usually advise listening first. Even if you still think you're right at the end of it, at least now you know what points to rebutt." Jim looked at her steadily. "Also remember that agreeing to disagree isn't a bad thing -- not for most issues, anyway. I mean, if someone's trying to justify something like committing a crime just for kicks, sure, that's a ground-standing subject. But for stuff like whether or not such-and-such language is acceptable to use in a specific situation . . . you can be annoyed, you can disagree, but it's not really worth a major fight, right? It's good to choose your battles. It gives more value to the instances when you do stand your ground."

Laurie thought about that for a moment, and then smiled, "Sound advice, and it'll certainly keep me out of trouble with the 'being drunk is cool lol' crowd. Even if I don't really agree with them, doesn't mean I don't like them, or think they're all brainless morons for disagreeing. I'll remember that for next time. Even if sometimes it's just really, really hard to give up being right, and being able to say 'I told you so' to someone."

Jim shrugged. "Well, sometimes people need it. Still, if they're your friends, it's best to do it in the context of empathizing with them about whatever just blew up in their face rather than, well, gloating. Gloating in general doesn't do a whole lot to clarify the difference between 'I disagree' and 'I think you're a moron' for them. Know what I mean?"

"The difference between being an asshole and a friend who just happens to have assholish moments," Laurie replied, munching on a forkful of potato salad as she thought about what Haller had said. "I understand, yeah. I was somewhat proud of myself for not going off on our Snow Valley friends the last week."

The older man nodded. "It's a slow-process. Still, it helps to think of every journal thread as an opportunity for self-improvement." And, if past incidents were any indication, there were going to be a lot of opportunities.