The evil contraption

[muckefuck]

Today I was looking forward to a leisurely lunch full of conversation with zompist. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, as he was forced to cancel abruptly. Then, out of the blue, I got a message that niemandsrose was only steps away, so as compensation I had a brief tea break full of conversation instead. We ended up talking about phone etiquette and how calling someone is so unusual in some circles that "every call is like the 3 a.m. call".

I chuckled uncomfortably, because zompist had actually rung me the evening before to confirm our lunch date and my reaction was, "Who the hell is calling at this hour?" "This hour" was 8:50 p.m. To be fair, I was watching Mizoguchi's Ugetsu and it was reaching its climax. To be fair to Zomp, however, how could he possibly have anticipated that? I let the machine get it and checked afterwards. The polite thing to do at that point would've been to return the call. Instead, I sent an e-mail basically teasing him for indulging in an old-fashioned courtesy.

I owned up to some of my issues around phone calls, including my frequent inexplicable resistance to making them. For instance, months ago now I collected a phone number from a friend of a friend who does bodywork and despite being reminded every night when I crawl into bed just how ridiculously tense the muscles in my back have gotten I have not been able to bring myself to ring him. Sunday I promised the Old Man (whose also looking for a masseur) I'd make the call. Then I forgot all about it.

Ironically, part of the reason was that I ended up touching base with my mother about a phone call she'd been fighting for more than a year. I offered to make it for her, but instead she asked bunj because it related to something he's been working with her on. Now--to the relief of all--things are rolling again. It just never occurred to her that she could allow herself to ask someone to do that for her.

I shared this with niemandsrose and she came back with, "Your parents are divorced, right?" Because ideally, she continued, you form relationships with someone who can step in and do the things you can't when you reach an impasse like this. Of course, if at any point the Old Man had said, "Give me the phone number and I'll call the massage therapist" I would've refused and sworn to do it myself--and most likely would've followed through at that point, since the shame of failure would've been too much to bear.

It all brought home to me again how determined I am to NOT be my mother. So not only did I finally put through the call (Dammit! Foiled by voicemail!), but I went online and dealt with a couple more things I'd been putting off (such as finding and purchasing a handmade furoshiki for my sister--thank you, Etsy!). I wish I could say it felt good, but it doesn't really; it's always perversely nerve-wracking and I have to find something else to do to calm down afterwards. (Like write a navel-gazing LJ entry.)

Comments

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I hate making phone calls too, almost to the point of phobia.