I DON'T WANT TO YELL

Sometimes I can't handle being in this house.
My family yells to communicate, and sometimes it's cute, but most of the time it just raises blood pressure and stresses everyone out.
There is no middle ground. There is either silence (as there is now) where each of us is holed up in our little corner of the house occupied by our personal neuroses, or there is calamity, confusion, accusations, yelling yelling YELLING, stress stress stress.

You are what you are.
You are what you come from.
You are what you know.
But I don't want to have to yell to solve problems. I never want to yell to communicate.

One of my biggest fears is that when I have my own family, this exact pattern of behaviour will repeat itself. After all, who will want to be with me besides someone who understands the yelling? And if they understand it, it means they most likely come from something similar themselves. And when you throw two yellers together, you get yelling.

I make a conscious effort in personal relationships - with friends and significant others - to employ modes of communication that are more effective than the ones I employ at home. I try to listen, I try to phrase things in such a way that they won't be misunderstood - but if I'm really angry, I always default to what I know best: defensive, angry yelling.

And it's not that I haven't tried to be more peaceful at home, hoping to rub off on the others, but when you're consistently outnumbered 3:1, it becomes hard to get noticed.

I don't think that it's healthy that I go out with friends, most of all, to escape my home reality.
I have this poetic notion that you're supposed to go out with friends because you enjoy their company specifically or because you wish to have some fun - not to run away from something even worse.
But hey, whatever works, right?

In the bathroom, doorbell rings.

Oh great, what fresh hell is this?
"BE RIGHT THERE!"

Doorbell rings again.
"I'M COMING!"

Sprint to the door. The FedEx guy is getting ready to leave me one of those "missed you while you were out" cards. But I made it.

Sweet. Package for dad? I'll sign.

"Didn't think anyone was home... Are you DUNDG-A?"
"Uh, yeah. Kthnxbye."

Walk into the house.
Now what could this be? Who'd be sending me a package? Definitely didn't order anything...
Huh.
Addy looks a little familiar, but I can't quite place...
Probably tickets from comtix... I didn't notice that they didn't send them all at once... typical Dunja...

Where's the knife? I can't get this stupid thing undone.
Haha, hope it's not a bomb...
Oh shit. What if it's a bomb?!

Oh common, just open it.

Hm. Bubble wrap and something white.
Now, who sent me coke?!

Hmmm... AWWWW FUCK! I SEE AN APPLE!

Cardy card card card... is this who I think it is?!
OMFG.

***
Love,
Spazzy

OMFG.
IT'S AN iPOD shuffle!

I was telling him how much I wanted one the other day... and how cute it'd be to get one for my sister... 'cause you can engrave them... and... oh, it's engraved!

Mork.

And now, I'm crying. Oh great, why am I crying?
Maybe because it's so thoughtful and so typical and so wonderful and so unexpected, and yet not surprising - because it's not something I thought he'd do, but it's not something I'd ever put past him...

<3

And so what I missed a shift I didn't know I had at work and will probably get written up for it...?
I'm going out to dinner with Spazzy and this is the best day I can remember since that day when my grandpa bought me a pink bunny rabbit balloon when I was 3.

i...

I cannot believe my day.
Booking it down the QEW at 150km/h, men in vans with families in tow waving at me to slow down, only to make it to rehearsal fully half an hour late.
Rehearsal flying by as if though it were an hour, not 7, and realizing not a minute too soon that I still hadn't gone over my aunt's paper, or my genetics homework for the quiz I have tomorrow.
Then, driving on empty through Mississauga trying to figure out what the fastest way to Dixie is from campus.
Lastly, booking it home 2.5 hours later then I'd planned to, assuring my irate mother that I'd be safe and sound in my bed in 15 minutes, max, only to set off the car alarm as soon as I rolled into the garage.
I was so spaced out and feeling so crazy and dazed about what I'd just said to Spazzy, that the horn sounded four times before I found the "unlock" button on the keys in my hands.

And what gem escaped my lips?

Only "I love you"... which I'm not even sure that I mean, which I wasn't even planning on saying, which hadn't even entered my brain until it had fully escaped my mouth.

His jaw dropped open.
I had to think to stop my hand from covering my mouth. Then I had 0.2 seconds in which to decide whether I should say something, like, "I say that to everyone when I'm saying bye" or "I don't really mean that" or "I don't even know why I just said that", or to just pretend like nothing ever happened and run away.
So, after he composed himself and kissed me like he meant it (my brain screaming "GET OUT! GET OUT!" the whole time)I ran away.
And to my car.
And peeled out of the parking lot.

Then I called Nelly because 1) it's her birthday
and 2) she's the only person on the planet who'd appreciate potentially getting woken up at 1am on a Monday to hear how I just accidentally told my boyfriend I loved him like so:

"Bye!" - Him
"Bye! I love you!" - Me
Reflexive. I tell every one of my friends "Bye, I love you!" when I'm leaving, but, up until now, I've been good at suppressing this reflex with someone to whom it might seem to mean more... UNTIL TONIGHT.

I'm never getting over this.
WHO DOES THAT?

nice save...

Pretty sure this prof - Blanksomethingorother - says the same things every single lecture.
"They've delayed the DSM-V another year... can't teach an old dog new tricks... they want to have a more dimensional look at disorders... consistent with what we've said previously... I know I mentioned this last class, but... it's a totally different way of making sense of problems that children have... I encourage you to read about it in the textbook... and think about it... think about it loooong and hard."
Shut up.

I love my life right now. I handed in an assignment on time, and even had enough time on the DAY THAT IT WAS DUE to watch an episode of Dr. Phil! Only a slight panic attack when the printer wouldn't print. It's all thanks to Pauly, (the being-on-time thing) who went through a lot of hard work trying to explain how computers work to his dad, so he could pick up some quality books for me from the downtown library.
I hate that UTM doesn't have any of the books I need on campus. Ever.

I loved going out to a fancy-pants dinner with Pauly and Zeebs and Tash, but hated almost wrecking my fancy pants when I fell (almost on my face - luckily I was able to pull my hands out of my pockets and catch myself before that happened) while Pauly laughed mercilessly, stopping only to take a breath and ask if I was alright after I had already stood up and brushed myself off.

I LOVE THAT I FINISHED THAT ASSIGNMENT. ON TIME!

I love the conversation I just had with Spazzy.
"You're in class RIGHT NOW?"
"Yes."
"You're one of THOSE people?"
"Yes."

"Should I call you when I'm done class?"
"Nice save..."

"YES! CALL ME! GOD!"

mmKAY.

Did you know that people on the Dean's List actually exist?
I thought those were the things of fairy tales.