florafloraflora (florafloraflora) wrote,
florafloraflora
florafloraflora

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What's your fighting style? [not a meme!]

A colleague and I were talking about different fighting styles that couples, families and friends have. She, and I, are the kind to blow up, even curse, at our spouses, and then forget about it 5 minutes later. Meanwhile, the spouses, stunned by our outbursts, stop talking to us and nurse their injuries in a freeze-out that can go on for days, until we've forgotten what the fight was even about and have no idea why they're acting so cold. Then there are those, like my dear grandmother, who are determined to be painfully, sickeningly sweet and cheerful at all times, until all the grievances they've been saving up get the best of them and they blow up like the Hindenburg. And then there are the tear-ninjas, who have a secret weapon to bring out just when things are looking darkest for them. And there are the mild-mannered types who are capable of monstrous acts of sudden violence; I'm happy to say I've never known one of these in person, but I read about them a lot in the paper.

I think fighting styles run in families, either by imitation or in reaction. When I was growing up, my dad was a screamer, always having a fit about something. Some people were scared of his fits, but I got so jaded to them that they lost their power to impress me, and the biggest reaction I could muster up was, oh, Baby's having a fit again. That's why being screamed at doesn't faze me, and it's probably also where I get the tendency to be a little too vehement in fights. That may also be why my dad is super-nice to me and hasn't screamed at me in decades, although he still does it to other people. My mom can fight right back, until things get really ugly and she has to play the bursting-into-tears card, which tends to shut things down with a quickness. I have a bit of that skill, too, although it takes a lot to make me cry.

What's your style? Does it work for you? How does it play with your friends and family?

In other news, I found a stash of CDs, in one of those zippy-case things, that the Mr. and I had in heavy rotation a few years ago. I've been listening to them. Some are fantastic, like seeing old friends again: The White Stripes' eponymous debut album ("The Big Three Killed My Baby", "St. James Infirmary", "Sugar Never Tasted So Good") and the last three tracks on the Nirvana Unplugged CD. Some haven't aged so well: Queens of the Stone Age's Songs for the Deaf doesn't impress me half as much as it did back them, when it seemed gigantic, the best thing ever recorded; and Phrenology, by knowledge-rappers The Roots, is still good but nowhere near as listenable as I thought in 2003 when it lived in my car's CD changer all summer. Some of the CD's I like even better now, like the Lost in Translation soundtrack. What a difference two or three years can make.
Tags: all about me, music
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