lunedì, maggio 08, 2006

I'm afraid of Virginia Woolf

Dear Couples:

I've been told that bickering is an inevitable symptom of an established, comfortable relationship; just one of those degenerations that come with time like a flabby midriff or nostalgia for pop music that was already shitty the first time around. And that's fine. Maybe if I had bickered with my men more, our communication would have been better and the relationships wouldn't have ended in the somehow anticlimactic freakshows they did. So good. Good for you for communicating. That's well done.

Sadly, when you bicker in front of me, and I am a captive audience who can't get away from your established, comfortable communication, I'm not thinking what a healthy relationship you have, I'm thinking of what a massive dick you sound. I'm thinking, "My god, how can he/she be such a bitch that he/she is willing to belittle his/her lover in public like this?" Or "holy FUCK, is he/she still talking about THAT? How is it possible to be that fucking petty?" Or "sweet Jesus, is he/she trying to make him/her angry and jealous on purpose? What the hell?"

What I'm trying to say is that when you bicker publicly, you're turning your absolute worst face to the world; your arrogant, insecure, vicious, angry, nasty face. Now, I can see that perhaps you'd want to avoid hypocrisy, and think perhaps that if you bicker privately it's only reasonable to bicker publicly as well. So good. Good for you for avoiding hypocrisy. That's well done. But as you bicker in front of me, I'd like you to bear three things in mind:

1. I'm finding out uncomfortable things about your personality that I'm not going to forget as soon as you stop bickering.

2. I'm blow-my-own-head-off bored and wishing to Jeebus there was someone, anyone else in the captive situation to talk to. Anyone. I'd fucking take Bill O'Fucking Reilly.

3. And finally, just - fucking - once a week or something, get a little outside of yourself while you bicker and ask yourself if these are things you'd say or ways you'd act towards your worst fucking enemy. I don't know if that would stop you from bickering but it might help you appreciate your lover a little more.

Yours,

Mistress La Spliffe

7 commenti:

calisaurus ha detto...

I've heard that couples are often meaner to each other than they would be to people in the office that they hate, or even strangers on the street! It's that level of comfortability that makes people think they can get away with crap like that. And sadly, when we get crap like that from people we love we just take it, because we assume that this special person would never treat us so poorly so we must be overreacting. I hope I make sense with all of this us-you-me-we-general population babbling.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

Yeah, I know what you mean. It's really hard to watch someone take it, too. Especially when you know they're taking it because they're figuring it all adds up, that they're somehow building up Jackass Credit so that when they finally snap themselves and start acting like a bitchy dick in return, forgiveness should come easy. And then it doesn't, and then the double standard is just one more thing to get upset about.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.

What to do, what to do. When you live in a motherfucking shoe. You've been seeing Mr. S for a loooooong time now so you must have something clever worked out about communicating annoyance without being a jerk. I shall have to get your advice someday.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

That's not to imply you'd need extra annoyance-dealing skills because you're seeing Mr. S, who I bet is less annoying than most people. Just that you must have extra annoyance-dealing skills because you've been seeing *anyone* for awhile.

Mmmmmmm. My foot tastes like graham crackers.

calisaurus ha detto...

I wrote and posted a response to this but it isn't showing up.

Well screw it!

I didn't think you were implying Mr. S was annoying to deal with, haha. He's lovely to deal with and killed a giant bug for me this past weekend which puts him in my extra-good books. And I mean giant!!!

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

That's adorable of him. I don't know what it is about me, but I always seem to be with men who I have to chase away bugs and such for. Do I come off as really, uhm, what's that word, maternal or something? Because I do seem to attract pathetic little sissy boys.

Luckily Figaro isn't such a big old pussy. In fact, while he was here he "took care" of a mouse my cat was torturing to death while I just stared at her, aghast and nauseous. She's my bloodthirsty little sweetheart.

You Need A Mess Of Help ha detto...

Mistress, that post was actually life-changing. Major fucking props to you, wise woman.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

Mess, if the annoyance I felt this weekend has actually helped anyone (besides me, as the only way I stopped myself from manual auto-asphyxiation was repeating 'cautionary tale' 50 times fast), I feel better about going through them - thank you!