Tuesday 25 August 2009

...

I am not generally given to loud, expressive fits of anger. This might be in part because I think loud fits of anything are genuinely warranted only in very rare cases. Also, I despise confrontations like I despise Criss Angel, that no talent, goth fuck. And usually before I work up to that kind of anger, I get distracted by whatever social networking site I’m using indiscriminately at the time or say like, a potato chip. Then there’s the fact that I stay calm to spite those people who say ‘let it out’ with those infuriating hand actions, heads cocked to one side, voice all calm and soothing-like. No bugger off, I’m keeping it in, I’m keeping it ALL in, go be Oprah some place else and get out of my face.
But a big reason, you’ll almost never hear me screaming or typing in angry caps, and I’m aware of how cutesy and made up this sounds even though it’s a 100% true, is the Old Spice song.

Remember that one? Unfortunately I can’t find it on Youtube so for those who can’t remember it, you may use Chariots of Fire as stand in, it has the same effect. If you haven’t heard Chariots of Fire, you’re probably deaf. In which case, nevermind the rest of this post.

Anyway.

Everytime I’m on the brink of blowing off some serious steam, the song starts playing in my head. Its rising crescendo perfectly accompanying the gradual slowing down of the words and expressions until it’s all very comical, I stop to chuckle and in the process the loud anger has dissipated. What’s left can well be dialed down to sarcasm, the odd snide comment and some heavy duty passive-aggressive bullshit like eating the last muffin I knew the person really wanted or uploading unnecessarily cheerful status updates that I know will piss him/her off.

Only recently it occurred to me that the latter method is long drawn, tedious and even more laughable than being caught Old Spicing. Also less fulfilling, because honestly, while I’m plotting all these abstruse ways of putting it across, the person concerned probably just thinks I’m having my period. Whereas a well-timed ‘Fuck you’ said at a higher decibel is succinct yet descriptive and clear as a bell.

That settles it. Come Monday (I hate starting new resolutions mid-week) and I’m really getting into this whole 'expressing self' business. I may end up feeling better or I may end up halving the number of people who put up with me always, to one. But that’s okay. No longer is a men’s aftershave lotion going to come between me and my true feelings.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

I will be your friend even on Monday Annie, I promise! I've put up with you for some 20 years by now, figured I might as well continue until forever :-D

P.S - Didn't know you could be as funny as me...

Unknown said...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyGz_17_0lk

You can thank me later. BTW it's 'O fortuna' from Carmina Burana by Karl Orff