On Patience and Annoyances

It’s a given that no one’s perfect. Everyone has his or her flaws and annoyances. No one can expect to be completely likable by everyone and no one can expect to be liked by everyone. Such is life, simple as that.

But everyone tries to be liked by everyone on some level or another. Everyone tries to be accepted and to win others over. There are successes and there are failures. And one can only hope that there are more successes than there are failures.


This past Saturday was the first official day of spring. Many people were out walking around, biking, picnicking, and simply enjoying the company of their friends and family. Birds chirping, flowers blooming, kids running through fountains. Many people would enjoy such days. Many people like being outdoors soaking up some much needed sunlight. And understandable, Southern California actually gets a lot of sunlight. It’s great. It’s why we all love living out here. How many other places can you enjoy sun so often during the year?

But there are indeed those who find simple pleasures not as enjoyable. Some find elaborate adventures more exciting than a day at the park. Others find time spent being productive in front of a computer or at work a more beneficial use of their time. But every once in a while, when the sun is shining, the weather’s mild, and there are people whose company you enjoy with you, a day in the sun doing is just as gratifying as finishing and handing off that final report.

So back to Saturday. We had agreed on going out on Saturday. We were going to pick up one friend from the final grasps of the winter quarter and return her home for a week without studying and exams. Perhaps the plan was too vague, which was why things went south. Or perhaps we weren’t as considerate of each other’s likes and dislikes.

But in certain cases, it’s hard to be considerate of each other’s likes and dislikes if they themselves aren’t consistent about their likes and dislikes.

Balboa Park is actually a very beautiful park. Its vast grounds include several different gardens, museums, and numerous hiking trails. Perfect for the naturalist, the history buff, and the fitness guru. Apparently, however, not perfect for the animal-loving, baby-hating, cynical, bubbly, eleven year old trapped in a twenty-seven year old body girl. Apparently, as we were to find out, there was no point in going to a park unless you had a dog to walk. Nope. No point at all. You don’t go to a park to enjoy the day. You don’t go to the park to walk around and get some fresh air. You don’t go to catch up with your friends.

Nope. You just don’t go to the park without a pet to walk.

And yes, I understand that there are people who like the indoors, and there are people that like the outdoors. But if you insist on saying that you like hanging out with your friends and that the particular place doesn’t matter, well then what’s the problem with hanging out at the park? In fact, if chatting in a parking lot outside of McDonalds is what you find entertaining, then what – please tell me – is the problem with enjoying your friends’ company outside in a park when the sun is out and the flowers are blooming? Of course, you’re allergic to pollen a day outside is definitely not enjoyable. But if that’s not the case, then I just don’t get it.

So said Eleven Year Old Girl decides that complaining all day at the park would be the best route to go. Doesn’t matter that Eleven’s friends enjoyed walking around Balboa Park, no, she didn’t and that was a problem. Not a minor problem, more of a must complain loudly and continuously type of problem. Such a problem that the solution to the problem was not a diplomatic solution, but more of a totalitarian, dictatorial type of solution. All or nothing. My way or the highway type of solution.

Five steps and another lengthy complain. “Why are we here? I don’t get why we are at a park! What are we doing here? This is so stupid.” Five steps of silence, followed by another lengthy complain. “Oh my gosh! You guys are walking so fast! What’s the hurry? Why are we here? Can we go now? Oh my gosh! This is so stupid!” Walk, walk, walk, dragging her feet, dragging her feet, dragging her feet. Complain, complain, complain.

Now, it’s times like these were I feel like a mother with the crying baby. There are two options: one, to cave and spoil the child, or two, to stand your ground and let the crying baby cry till the baby falls asleep. Today, after caving in last night to the incessant wants, I refused to back down. We were at the park and we were going to have a good day, even if I’m the only one enjoying it! And so I walked on, taking pictures and living vicariously through the other people clearly enjoying the first day spring.

However, it definitely puts a damper on your mood when you’re walking around the park with a complaining, whining, inconsistent, inconsiderate Eleven.

“Why do you guys like parks so much?” she asked for probably the tenth time that first hour.

I admit, after what felt like the tenth hour of her complaining I caved. I gave the attention to the crying baby. Eleven had me fed up. “What DON’T you like about parks? I mean you walk your dogs in parks. Why not walk them around your neighborhood or a factory for that matter? What’s the difference to you? Why even walk your dogs?”

She shrugs. “They like it. I don’t like it. I think it’s stupid.”

“Well why? Why do you think it’s stupid? You know, for someone who professes her disdain for parks, why on earth did you get married in one?”

“Oh that was different! That was a nice park! And we were there for a reason: my wedding! Right now we’re just walking around. There’s no point to this trip!”

“What are you talking about?” our other friend joined in. “Of course there’s a point! We’re enjoying the day, the sun, the company of friends!”

“Oh but you guys are fun and interesting. Parks on the other hand are boring and stupid. Why would anyone want to hang out here and just walk around?? Why don’t we just go somewhere and talk? We don’t need to walk around in a park!”

I can say for a fact that there were many easily refutable parts in her “argument”. Number 1: Parks can’t be boring and stupid because she chose a park for her wedding. Number 2: If we were fun and interesting, you wouldn’t be so engrossed in your book and you’d actually be talking and participating in the conversation. Number 3: If you hated parks so much, why are you so eager to play with the dogs and rabbits in the park and go into the museums? So tell me, are you suure you hate parks? Or is it more that you hate that you’re not getting your way?

I tried hard to be patient with Eleven. I kept my mouth shut. I kept my temper down. I even tried to reason with her. But it seemed that all was futile after a few hours.

Okay, so I might be overly toting my patience. Within the hour I was already ready to snap at her. And I did. And I seriously couldn’t take it anymore. So after snapping back at her, after blatantly telling her that there was acceptable behavior and there was unacceptable behavior, and that what she was doing was definitely unacceptable – and inconsistent to what she had claimed before – behavior, I decided it was better for me to be by myself and enjoy the day myself. To clear my head and not try to change her.

After finally going back to civil terms with a clear head, I realize that there really wasn’t much I could do outside of telling her what I thought and changing myself. A key to happiness is to accept certain things. In our Saturday outing there was Eleven, me and our Army Friend. The greatest part of Army Friend is that she tries hard to make situations genial. Perhaps on the passive-aggressive side, she still tries to keep the peace and works hard to not exacerbate the situation. In the relationship equation there is A=me, B=Eleven, C=Army Friend, and D=the relationship. A+B+C=D Simply stated. Me+Eleven+Army Friend= Relationship. The fact is, as hard as I try, I can’t change Eleven. I can’t change Army Friend. What I can change is me. And, simply stated, I can change me and I can change the outcome. Change A and C will change. As hard as I try the other variables won’t change. I can only change myself.

And so, if I want to be less annoyed, less bitter, less upset, I have to change myself. I have to change the situation. Perhaps I even have to take a variable out of the equation. Such is life. Some things just don’t go well together.

Relations

Name: Laura and Jay
Relation: High School Friends, Married
Occupation: Insurance agent, pop culture enthusiast, Hollywood know-it-all/stalker

“Oh My God! Just marry him already and get it over with! I can’t believe you two are at it again!”

In complete Laura style, smoke was fuming from her ears and fiery darts were shooting from her eyes, if it were possible. I’m not quite sure what the ratio between anger and exasperation is at the moment with her – perhaps it’s safer to say that it’s a wild mix of the two – but at the moment I feel the safest place for anyone is at least ten miles away from here. Imagine Mount Vesuvius smoking up and villagers fleeing. Except I’m here and yes it was me that set her off.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going up there again! I had to hear about it from Fai that you went up to see him again! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ashes spewing and red lava’s visible at the apex now. Definitely not how I wanted this conversation to go.

“I mean you guys broke up for a reason, you know. Do you even remember what the reason is? Because I do! I remember how you guys were driving each other insane and not talking to each other while you two were living with each other!”

“Yeah..” I felt silly with my sheepish response, but that was all I could muster. Perhaps if I let her go on and on eventually she will run out of steam and I’ll be able to get a word or two in. Mount Vesuvius did after all stop exploding. Given that it did leave a lot of dead people in its wake.

“This is ridiculous you know, tell her, Jay. You guys broke up so many times and okay I’ll give you the high school ones because we were in high school and – god – we were stupid, but the ones after that … How many times did you break up with him since high school, huh?”

“Well there was that time we both dated other people in college. Then when I moved out, then again in France, though that –“

“Wait what?” I’m not quite sure if she could actually yell any louder. If anyone wanted to know my life story I was sure anywhere within a quarter mile radius from us right now would have still been within crystal clear earshot.

“How the hell did you guys break up while you were in France when you guys weren’t even together? When the hell did you guys get back together? Why the hell did you guys get back together?”

I lied. She can in fact get louder. Brilliant me had just added fuel to the fire. It had just escalated from Mount Vesuvius to the apocalypse. There’s no escape. I’m done for it.

In the middle of all her yelling from which my ears have already begun ringing, I try to formulate an argument defending myself.

We had broken up, but then we started talking again and then we started flirting again and one thing led to another and before we knew it we were having “the talk” again. Not the “dun-dun-dun we need to talk” talk, but the “well what do you think” talk. The “you’re leaving to france and I’m staying here, we just started getting good again, we’re not good at distance what are we going to do, where do we go from here” talk. And that’s not the type of talk you want to have before leaving for another country an ocean and a continent away.

“Gah! Just marry him already! You know what your problem is? You’re really bad in relationships. And I don’t mean you’re bad with relationships, just bad in relationships.”

What?

What does that mean? I’m bad at relationships but I’m not at the same time? How does that work? I’m flabbergasted and Laura’s livid. And Jay? Poor calm Jay who hasn’t said a word since we met up for lunch? Well he’s given up on holding Laura back. In fact, as I glance over at him I wonder just how much of him is actually present in this situation. I look over at him with a “Help me! Your wife’s gone crazy” look, but he’s not even looking at us. Instead he’s playing with his BlackBerry either surfing the web or chatting with a friend. No rescue or sympathy from him. He’s only physically here.

“I mean I’m sure you’re a good girlfriend but it’s like when you’re in a relationship you use it as a way out! Whenever things go bad or you get into a fight you don’t want to fix you just break up. You never fix it! Or work at it! You know relationships require work right?”

“Now wait a minute!” I finally interject. Up till now her argument had been pretty legit. Sure we broke up way too often and sure we got back together more often than anyone else we knew, but that didn’t mean we didn’t try to work things out. “We fought! A lot too! It wasn’t like every time I was unhappy I just broke up with him”

“Yeah, but you guys have gotten back together so many times that clearly you guys still want to be with each other.” So Jay had been listening all along. “I mean think about it, how long was the longest time you two spent after a break up without talking to each other?”

“Well there was that time in college when we both started seeing other people.” Thinking back even after breakups he and I would always start talking again. The awkward hi’s and obligatory how-are-you’s would always return to its daily rate and lengthiness. Truth be told, we had a hard time just being acquaintances. After all that history between us being less than friends just didn’t seem right. Which is why we always tried to become friends. Which is why it always turned back into flirting. Which is why we always got back together. Because that’s the story of him and me.

Relations

Name: Julie
Relation: Family friend
Occupation: Florist, Gossip central, Advice distributer.

“Any good news?” Julie’s standard greeting nowadays. After she had heard his name come up in conversation again she had immediately switched gears and entered the pre-wedding phase. Or rather the pre-engagement phase. With her at this point it was simply that I should marry the boy and call it game over. She was so certain of our eventual nuptials that she imposed a bet against anyone who said otherwise and in turn her winnings would go towards our wedding gift. Julie looked up from the large spring arrangement that she was working on with a mischievous look.

“I’m telling you, there’s no point in waiting any longer. You two have been dating for how long now?”

I start to toy with a discarded daisy in attempts to avoid her question. “We’re taking things slow right now. We want to ‘get to know each other’ again.”

Everyone in the store laughed. My aunt stayed quiet and listened to Julie berate me with her questions. Even as the words came out of my mouth it sounded ridiculous. He and I had known each other since the first day of high school. And even now, post college and into the working world, we were still playing the game of him and me. Sure there were points where we lost touch, but all in all it had been relatively consistent in some sort of communication. Or was that wishful thinking?

“Cie,” she called me. Though she was older, it had become a habit for her to call me “older sister” like everyone else in the family. Here, it was rank that defined you. After all, there were younger sisters, cousins, family friends that looked at the older siblings for guidance. “How old are you now?”

Oh god. The irrefutable count of how long we had been together. “I know I know, Cie Julie, it’s been forever. I know. But in our defense --!”

“No, no! Just how old are you?"

“Twenty-six. But it’s different!” I pause. Different, sure. How? Dunno. “Really, it’s different… I just don’t know how just yet.”

“Okay, now what’s twenty-six minus fifteen?” Julie was adamant. To her, we had been together for way too long.

I sigh. There was no point in fighting it. Logically, she was right. “Eleven. But again! In our defense, we broke up several times and dated other people so that number is completely inaccurate!”

“I don’t care Corinne, all I know is that you started dating him when you were fifteen and now you’re twenty-six. Which means, you two have been dating for eleven years now! Eleven! I don’t even know anyone who’s dated that long before getting married!”

Logically, reasonably, she had a point. Even without the breakups and the “just friends” periods, it was still about six to seven years of being in a relationship with him. And by then the question of marriage would have already been on the table for quite some time with many couples. But with him and me, the topic of marriage had always evaded us for some reason or another.
Either way though, I had no intentions of backing down from Julie. I was right. It was different. The counter started over when we got back together. “It’s different though!” I stubbornly argued. “We’re working things out and learning about each other again.” Because, you know, we forgot who we were. Right… That’s believable.

Well okay, it had a bit of truth to it. Truth is, no matter how much he loved me, and no matter how I changed, he was still worried about my flightiness. He knew we had both changed and matured during the past year apart, but he couldn’t shake the fact that I had a propensity for running. I was the Runaway Bride, only we’d always start talking again and I would always run back to him and then I’d run off again. And there was no ring or a white dress just yet.

“You should just marry him, Cie.” She grinned. “Then I can win that bet and we can have a big party finally!”

“E yah, Niek,” my grandmother chimed in agreement. Her English isn’t good, but when it comes to wedding gossip, she knows. Like a sixth sense, she’ll know. “He’s a good person,” she adds in Chinese. “Hurry, he’s a good person.”