Friday, January 23, 2015

Why I Hate Surprises

Because I'm a control freak.  Because I hate being put on the spot.  Because it will take me a day to think of a good comeback.  Because sometimes the only thing you can do is curl up into the fetal position and wait for the surprise to disappear.  Because I hate change.  Because once it happens, it is over, and where do you go from there?

Now when people think of surprises, they think of good ones.  A diamond ring dangled on a proposal, a birthday party, an unexpected windfall, a vacation, a raise, a new car, a present of some kind.  All of these are good things, great things even, but still things I don't want to be surprised about.  On the rare occasion when someone has said to me "I've got a surprise for you", my stomach knotted and I prepared for the worst.  I have always hated surprises. 

To me, the only good surprise is being scared shitless.  Does that even count as a surprise?  I don't know but that adrenaline rush from someone jumping out at you in a haunted house is excellent!  That I can take.  There's nothing in this world that can match being scared to death. 

I don't know why I've always hated surprises.  I don't know if there was something that happened in my childhood that since has rested dormant in the repressed recesses of my mind, lying in wait for a good hypnosis to jerk it back to the forefront of my reality.  Maybe a creepy clown jumped out at one of the birthday parties I attended as an incredibly introverted child and scared the dread of surprises into me.  Or maybe someone said that to me with a very different idea of what constitutes a good surprise, and it left a sourness in my throat. Or still maybe it's because I hate being the center of attention, all eyes on me, because that's what a surprise does.  It marches you to the front of the classroom where those privy to the secret watch with baited breath for your reaction...which is what? Disbelief? Happiness? Disappointment? Feigned joy? Chants of "Speech, speech!" ring out for you to comment on this horrid encounter you've just been tossed into against your will. Well, I really can't recall, I just know I hate them.

I quite enjoy quiet surprises--when I found out the gender of my babies, either through birth or the doctor, waking up to three inches of snow and a quiet world, getting an email from someone I thought had forgotten about me and finding out they missed me, too. Are those surprises or unexpected events?  Are they one in the same? I may never know, but since I enjoy them by myself in peace and privacy, they are good.  

I will never be a fan of surprises.  They mostly fall short of what I really want, and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, or pretend that I love what I don't.  And what do I want?  For someone to understand this about me and accept it. That would be a good surprise. 

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