Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Hulk smash! Hulk CRASH!

Yesterday was quite a weird day for me…
It was busy and all seemed to be happening on some surreal level. I didn’t let it bug me though, thinking that my follow up appointment with my hairstylist might bring my senses back to The Real, - having one of the girls wash, dry and style my hair might make me feel human again, right? Or so I thought. It turned out to be an equally unrewarding, empty experience. My hair looks GREAT – don’t get me wrong – but I just wasn’t “in the moment” somehow…
The last straw came when I got home expecting to find a receipt and some change for a bill that I’d asked my father to pay, safely chucked on my bed. Instead I find that he’s given the people the ENTIRE amount (no change!) and they’ve made the receipt out incorrectly! (I requested that they do it a certain way for my tax return.) Argh! You’ve got to understand that my arrangement with the people came after several lengthy phone calls and visits, so when they STILL didn’t get it right, I felt like I had every reason to be pissed! I don’t think I’ve ever felt so “alone” than at that moment. The feeling that, if I didn’t do it myself, I actually couldn’t rely on anyone to just “take care of it” for me. I had asked for a little support on something really simple and my support system had failed. In fact the support system felt nonexistent. In no time at all, I graduated from silent indifference in the car, to screaming blind bloody rage, - fury so intense that, let’s just say it’s a good thing I don’t have a gun. I could have quite easily off-ed him!
It was clearly time for what I like to call a “breaky-breaky, fucky-fucky”, which is basically where you ravage your way through the house/office (actually any space will do!) like Godzilla or The Hulk, pulverizing everything in your path… (For added effect you can also growl/yell “Hulk smash! Hulk CRASH!” as you drop kick things out of your way!) So I did a few Jean-Claude Van Damme flying kicks to some shit in my room and skulked off to the lounge to breathe (deeply!) and try to calm the throbbing vein in my cranium.
Some good advice from someone who knows: Don’t try to practice your favourite hobby when your mad. You’ll just end up like that guy in the toothbrush commercial who builds a squiff cupboard (with drawers that don’t fit), smashes it to pieces and then brushes his teeth too hard. Know the one? Well… all the murderous rage in my shoulders went straight down my arms, through my fingertips and along my crochet needle and wool, to make stitches so tight and tense that at one stage I thought I had knotted the needle in permanently! (@£$%£$%!!!!!)
But then a funny thing happened: The Guy called quite unexpectedly to find out how my hair appointment had gone. When I told him that I needed to go back for yet another follow up appointment next week, he proceeded to have the sexiest little jealousy fit ever! He barked something about how he’s convinced that my (very straight) hairstylist is actually just getting me back there so he can run his fingers through my hair (crap, - trust me!) and that he’s coming with me next week so that he can bust a cap in the salon. (I had visions of him having a breaky-breaky fucky-fucky in this uber cool, serene, grey salon while Tibetan monk meditation music twinkled gently in the background. Hilarious!) There was also a very crude “pube” remark that I’m too much of a lady to ever repeat, - but damn! It made me laugh. He made me laugh. And the heavens opened up, and the angels started singing, and the sun shone through the clouds and the vein stopped throbbing etc.
What is this strange power that men have over women?
I’m an independent woman dammit! I am in control of my own feelings right?
The Guy turned a totally kak day around with a simple little phone call. Powerful stuff, if I say so myself. A few days ago he joked that I should start saving up for his Christmas gift, - a turbo thingy for his car worth thousands. (He’s such a dreamer! Pfft!) But I think I should just get him a cape and mask. “SuperGuy” has a nice ring to it, I think.
The little midnight calls that followed later only sweetened the deal even more…

1 comment:

cher said...

Ah! Sweetheart I'm thrilled that GUY GUY is back to his normal jealous self... and I'm uber happy you're happy!

Actually I'm sad! I miss your boobs... boobies... could I just rest my head against your chest? aha-ha!

(Beeg kiss, little hug, little kiss, beeg hug)