Bushwhackers

Next to annoying I-know-it-all talkers, lack of respect for time (read: always late), and men not washing their hands after they tinkle in the toilet, my biggest pet peeve are surprises...surprise visits for that matter. Some of you might think I'm retarded for hating surprises. But, hey, hear me out.

I am obsessive-compulsive. No, not so much like the Jack Nicholson-type in As Good As It Gets, but OC nevertheless. And being OC, I have this lethal necessity of having control over my schedule (cutely pronounced as "shed-yoo-wool"). I know I may not be able to regulate other people's schedules...but I have to master mine at least. And being OC, I need to make plans. Spontaneity is for teenagers and college students who have all the time in the world, and a whole lot of space for errors and discoveries. Spray-paint the word spontaneous on my wall and I'll freak out and start planning steps on how to erase it from my dated, numbered, and outlined wall.

Surprises are lovely. I do not mind getting a surprise from someone. A snapshot. A birthday card. An unexpected package. A stem or whole bouquet of blue tulips. A bottle of wine. Anything.

But a surprise VISIT? So not going to make me happy. Why? A surprise visit encroaches upon one or more person's privacy, timetables, and previous plans. It may also cause some form of friction/tension on both parties.

My friend Chie's boyfriend Louis tried to surprise her in her condo in Rockwell one time. He's been out of the country for almost two months, and he decided to show up at Chie's doorstep with himself in a bow as homecoming gift. Chie, obviously not knowing this was going to happen that night, went out with her friends at Eastwood, and her phone battery dying on her just as Louis was stepping out of his pad to surprise her. Louis got really upset and mad at Chie, saying she should've been at home. When Chie told me this, I was like, "Duh...so not your fault". True, Louis' gesture was so romantic...but surely, you'd agree with me that Chie was not at fault. After all, there was no plan whatsoever.

My aunt Solly hates it, too. An impromptu visit scares the bejeezus out of her (and my Mom, too, and sister...no wonder I'm like that, too!). To her, visits--especially by friends of her daughter, or visiting relatives from abroad--are supposed to be carefully planned: from the chlorine-reeky cleaning of the toilet bowl down to the four- or five-course menus. And, needless to say, she isn't a believer of the cliche "it's not the food served , but the company and conversations". Do you sense a Bree Van Dekamp (of Desperate Housewives) in that?

I was ambushed this morning (at exactly 10am) by my hunny JW and "entourage" (three friends, to be exact). Turns out, this surprise visit was JW's idea of saying sorry for being mean to me last night. A fuckin' surprise visit. I didn't know whether to feel more consternation over the idea of an unannounced visit or the still-haven't-met-by-me friends being brought as reinforcement and support for a forgiveness plea. In the end, the former prevailed. I had no fuckin' food, the house was a mishmash, I haven't even taken a shower, and worst of all, I've already made plans for the day (all of which I wasn't able to do), thanks to their bushwhacking.

OK, fine. I let that pass...but not without telling JW that another one of these surprise visits, and I'm really going to be hysterical. Yada-yada-yada and JW and I made up...and out. At least THAT turned out to be a nice surprise. *evil grin*

God. The things you do for love.... ;)