Royalty suits me

Addison: There is a land called Passive Agressiva, and I am their queen
-Grey's Anatomy

Yeap. That’s me.

Case in point:

I went out with old friend who is back in town for a couple of weeks. Note, it’s 10.30pm and we’re off to mid valley to yum cha and hang out or whatever. Had to convince dad to drop me at the mall – wasn’t so jammed so that was rather stress free. Fast forward to about mid-night. I get a call from aforementioned father saying to call him when I get into the cab on the way to my friend’s house where he will be waiting to whisk me back home. Finding a willing cab is tough and it takes about 5 minutes before we find one which: 1) is willing, and 2) knows where to go. In the meanwhile I’m joking with my friend’s friend (from Kenya incidentally) about South Park and as a result, forget to call dad from the cab. We are 5 minutes into the journey and I remember. Dial the number and all I hear from the other side is high-anxiety and a rather perturbed parental figure. Not rather perturbed, he’s pretty much screaming “why didn’t you call me sooner?” etcetera etcetera. As I reach my friend’s place, dad is obviously not here yet so I go in and chill out in her study room for a bit. 15 minutes go by and I am wondering where daddykins may be. I do not want to call because, in reference to the last phone conversation, I do not wish to irritate him any further. However, the phone rings and lo and behold, it is an even angrier voice saying “where are you and why didn’t you call as soon as you got to her house”

At this point, all I’m concerned about is damage control.

Let me take a moment to clarify who I see interactions with people, whether between me and another person, or between people in general. It’s usually all attack and defence I think. Not to say it’s all hostile, I mean, countries can have peaceful negotiations too but when things get emotional, that’s all it really boils down to.

So after being “attacked” by the superior being in a singlet and shorts, I have no choice but to defend myself as well as I can. Minimise damage, regroup and plan out the next move.

Well, first I have to withstand a 10 minute barrage from the person on my right. I timed it. See how long I could last. Test out the waters: any sound that comes out of my throat is met with extreme hostility so I try to not say anything or even breathe. At about minute 7, I realise I haven’t swallowed since I left my friends house. Of course, I have to answer his inane questions to which any reply is the wrong one. He already knows the answer and anything short of “I’m dying” or “I think the engine just blew up” would increase his propensity to yell at me.

Ah, and as a further avoidary tactic, I stare glumly at the keyhole in the glove box, feigning repentance and sorrow. I don’t think I was too convincing in the beginning because I forgot the wry smile I had on my face. After removing that, however, things calmed down somewhat.

While pondering the complexities of keys and glove boxes, I plan out my next move. It’s too early for a counter-attack, so further damage control is warranted. I know from past experience that as soon as home is reached, mother will be contacted and join father in their formation of attack. And because I know this, I have the upper hand. To avoid such confrontation with would never ever go in my favour (two-v-one, very small apartment) I plan to head straight to my room, tidy it up as best possible, change clothes, lock the door and finish my latest Jeffrey Archer.

Doorstep. Quickstep towards my room. Change. Tidy. Damn. My book is outside. Peer tentatively outside the room. Parents watching heroes. Double damn. Oh well. Book is about 7 metres ahead. Walk casually up to it. Look straight ahead. Grab it. Turn away from parents and head back to room. “Do some studying.” Grrr. They saw me. Return to safe zone. Lock door. Mission accomplished.

Next morning, my door remains locked and no signs of parents stirring from mandatory sleep. It’s still pretty early. I decide on the silent treatment. Meanwhile, I read messages on handphone and get on with drawing up group stage futsal tables on the computer. 20 mintues into that, mother awakes and offers breakfast. Half boiled eggs and toast. Not a bad treaty so I agree. Dad’s not fully up yet (placing a deposit with the sewage company). Eggs and toast seal the deal but she had to spoil it right at the end. “Why didn’t you call him yesterday? Show some respect.” I sigh inside. Fine. I can deal with this for the rest of the day. My throat is rather clogged up for talking with anyway.

I return to scrawling out tables on MS Word. While dad awakes and walks around the house, he tries to start up conversation. I repeatedly ignore him. Not that I want an apology, but the temper tantrums have to stop. More rehabilitation than retribution. Eventually he apologises. “Sorry for yelling at you yesterday. What time do you need to go to your friend’s house?” Offers of peace to end the cold front. I decide he’s had enough and while I’m watching the trailer for “The Rise of the Silver Surfer” I ask him what time Heroes is on today. We have a mini conversation and he leaves a little cheerier.

Now all I have to do is change mother’s mind about yesterday now that dad has relented (that’s the word I was looking for). Mother’s mind is harder to change. She’s rather stubborn – in a stupid kind of way. At least when dad decides something, he uses either logic or emotion, and if his emotional decisions don’t gel with his logic, he’ll admit it. Mother is rather like a bloodhound – she’ll follow a decision regardless of where it came from or where it’s going. Making her turn around will be harder. I have yet to find a quick and effective method of getting round her. But it will be found eventually.

* * *

Nose is still really irritating me. I don’t feel woozy anymore but the running nose is spoiling my fluid balance and wasting tissues.

I’m gonna look horrible tomorrow. Hopefully I won’t have to referee unless I really really have to. See how I can wrangle my way out of this.