Blood, Dreams, Emails

Last night I got a sudden and violent nosebleed, to the point where it was dripping down my face and onto my shirt before I could walk 5 feet to the tissue box. It was pretty intense. I had to sit there with tissue after tissue on my nose, leaning forward because if I leaned back I could taste and feel the blood pouring down my throat and oh my god gross. There was a moment or two where I thought, “Well, looks like an emergency room night” but it clotted, I blew out the huge clots and it eventually stopped. I think it’s a combination of my compulsive nose-blowing, the dryness of the weather, and the 4 ibuprofen I took for my Whonked Foot.

***

I had a dream last night about a first kiss, and the butterflies that come along with it. Remember those? When I got married I wondered if I would miss those feelings and they would make me become a cheater. Isn’t that horrible? God.

Now that I am married I realize that the butterflies are different, but still there. Like, for example, the special stirrings I feel when Hubs does the dishes, or loves on the kitties in a really cute way. I get butterflies for new levels of loving him that I didn’t think I had in me. It’s pretty sweet.

***

So….Let’s have a lesson on communication. Sigh.

I got an email back from my Dad last night about the phone numbers I sent him.

“Thank you, My (middle name), for the update on the phone numbers. I was really getting “ticked” that you were’nt returning any of my phone calls. I thought, “Now what did I do to irritate her so that she won’t answer any of my calls?”
I couldn’t think of anything, so then I thought maybe (middle name)’s socially inept and doesn’t realize how important RSVPing is when one is invited to dinner.
But then I thought, “Why didn’t she call back when I asked her when and where she wanted to go for her birthday dinner?” Does she not want to have anything to do with me? I was getting more and more confused. Finally the light dawned yesterday when I got the “Disconnected Message” upon calling your number.

I suppose you were getting ticked with me at the same time for not remembering your birtday, etc. Shall we try again? Can we set up a time that we can take you and (Hubs) to dinner to celebrate your b/d? Have you been to The Shortcake Factory and/or would you like to go there for dinner?

Love,

Dad “

I got the email on my phone last night but didn’t have it in me to read it til today. My first thought? “DAMNIT!! My righteous indignation! My reason for not having to talk to him any more! The way out of uncomfortable dinners!”

Not exactly what I should have thought. What I should have thought is, “Well, he’s finally figured out what’s wrong, and I should forgive him for not realizing before because he is old and slow and he’s making an effort.”

But… I don’t wanna

So here’s my reply:

“Dad,

Maybe you should have written down my phone number when I gave it to you repeatedly almost a year ago. Maybe you shouldn’t have accidentally saved my phone number under your ex-wife’s name, because I know you did. Maybe you should have emailed me and asked me what’s up instead of stewing in a pit of your anger. By the way, it bugs me that you use the word, “ticked.” A lot of things you say bug me. A lot of things you don’t say bug me. You are really really horrible at communicating and it’s way more trouble than it’s worth to try to have a relationship with you. How do you let things get this far? It’s not like I’m going to call and ask you if you were ever planning on acknowledging my birthday or inviting me to dinner. That’s trashy. ARG! You are so FRUSTRATING!

Man, we are really good at not communicating, assuming the worst, and stewing in a pile of confusion/anger, aren’t we? I’m glad that everything is straightened out, because I was sitting around wondering what I did to make you so mad, too.

We’d love to have dinner with you, and I’ve been waiting for a good excuse to throw back a zillion cheesecake factory calories. We’re probably free this weekend, we’re usually pretty open. Give me a call later on tonight (###-#### ha ha) and we’ll set that up.

Let’s do try to not sit around and stew like this again, eh? That was a whole lot of totally unnecessary stress for us and I feel pretty dumb about it now.

Love you,
(Middle name)”

Eh, he’s my Dad. I’m genetically obligated to forgive most things, right? Plus I do let things get out of hand like this with my family because I hate conflict, but I reaaally hate conflict with family. We’re a group of folks that say nothing in a lot of words, it’s how we roll.

Also, Shortcake Factory. Ha ha ha hahahaaaaa.