My Three Levels of Loud (or, ways I annoy Jordan by doing absolutely nothing)
It's an undisputed fact of life that I am awesome. Nevermind that my awesomeness is undisputed because I have yet to discuss it with anyone, the fact is, I am awesome at an uncounted number of things, including but not limited to:
Being socially awkward, cooking macaroni from a box, throwing like a girl, forgetting to respond to text messages, and blaming my farts on other people. Just kidding on that last one. Kind of. But the thing I am most awesome at--and probably the thing I'm most proud of--is my ability to annoy Jordan while doing nothing more than performing routine functions necessary for daily life. Namely: talking, walking, and eating.
Allow me to explain.
I'm not about selling myself out, but my advanced level of humility allows me the ability to do what many others cannot: acknowledge my own faults.
The fact of the matter is this: I am a loud person. Over
the past year and four months of marriage, my loudness has become more
and more apparent to my dear husband, who is as quiet and introverted as I am loud and extroverted. Fortunately, my loudness is something I'm aware of. Unfortunately, it's not something I can control.
The following are his top three complaints re: my levels of loud*: *You
might be interested to know that when I told Jordan I was writing a
post about three ways I'm loud, he immediately listed the same three I'm about to discuss.
To be honest, this first point is a bit of a sore spot for Jordan and I, mostly because it causes a great deal of embarrassment for him whenever we leave the confines of our apartment. I believe it's the main reason he's scared to take me out in public. The fact that I talk too loud is, however, something I will readily admit. I have an inability to whisper and an odd ability to shout when I'm just trying to speak at a regular volume.
Case in point:
Earlier this year I ran a 10k with my dad. The timing chips were the kind you strap to your shoelace, expect I'd never used that kind before and didn't know how it worked. Apparently I voiced my confusion louder than I intended, because a stranger in the middle of the crowd offered to help me, even though I was clearly surrounded by friends/family. This wouldn't have been that odd except directly after this happened I wondered out loud if my watch had a light on it. Almost immediately, a different stranger provided the answer by physically showing me where I could find the light on my watch. I appreciate the kindness of strangers as much as the next girl, and I was grateful for the assistance; but when random people are constantly answering the questions you're asking yourself out loud, it's safe to assume you have a problem with volume. And probably also that you should stop talking to yourself. Jordan, however, doesn't like strangers and therefore doesn't like when I talk loudly enough for strangers to talk to us. He is less concerned about their kindness and more concerned about that fact that they overheard me in the first place because I was being loud. Before you start thinking that maybe it's just Jordan, I feel I should mention that my loudness has been a longstanding family joke pretty much since the delivery room, when I came out at a whopping ten and a half pounds, screaming my chubby face off and looking like a two-month-old ready to take down the premies.
Which, I suppose, is as good a segue as any into my next loudness:
(Note: This is a picture of me sitting on a small pink bicycle and really has nothing to do with anything except that I was looking though pictures trying to find a good one for walking and got nostalgic about my very first bike that we sold when my parents moved to Texas.)
The second annoyance my presence bestows upon my lucky husband is the loudness of my walk. This is also something I am aware of. Unfortunately for me, can I really fix the weight at which I step? Is there physical therapy for this type of problem? This I don't know, but the fact of the matter is: I feel sorry for my downstairs neighbors, because I do walk heavy. Fact.
This, however, must be a family trait, because my younger brother also walks heavy. He was here visiting a week or so ago, and Jordan later said, "Man, your brother walks heavy too." So I obviously have no choice but to blame my parents.
Seriously, though, I sound like a giant when I walk. Maybe even a giant carrying a dwarf. And I'm not fat! (Insert childhood flashback to my brothers calling me "whale.") You can hear me coming from rooms away, and even though Jordan gets annoyed by it, I'm pretty sure I'm just the sort of person Helen Keller would have loved to have around.
I saved the best for last, because this one confuses me. Question: CAN one eat too loud? Is that even a thing? Apparently it is and I can, as evidenced by the following episode:
Occasionally I will set my alarm to get up and go running around 5:15 in the morning. Jordan is, of course, fast asleep at this time. Unfortunately for him, he wakes up instantly whenever I so much as move my arm (see: patterns of sleep, which is an amusing account of all the ways I annoy Jordan while sleeping). Jordan being a light sleeper is fortunate for me or WILL be fortunate for me should our apartment catch on fire or a band of gremlins decide to break into our apartment and steal our futon. No matter how quiet I try to be in the morning, he wakes up. But then I leave for an hour or so to run, and he resumes his slumber. The tricky part is when I come back. Apparently the act of me inserting the key into the lock wakes him up (three rooms away AND through the closed bedroom door). Fortunately for him, he married a kind and selfless wife (that's me), and I've started leaving the bathroom fan on to muffle the sound of the key. This has worked well. It's worked well, that is, until last week, when I came back from the gym and immediately poured myself a bowl of honey nut cheerios. I happily munched along and slurped up the leftover milk (yes, I'm one of those cereal-milk drinkers) and then hopped in the shower. By the time I got out, Jordan's alarm was going off and it was officially time for him to be awake, so I walked in the bedroom and leaned in to give him a good-morning kiss. He gave me a halfhearted peck and then followed it up with this: "You eat too loud." Um, good morning to you too, honey. "What?" I said. "You eat too loud," he repeated. "You crunch on the cereal and slurp up the milk, and it's loud and it wakes me up." (Insert: childhood flashbacks of my brothers calling me camel because I chewed with my mouth open. True story. Camel and whale. I really don't know how I've gotten this far in life without the help of a certified therapist.) I'm sure I came up with a snooty retort, because I'm witty like that, but I can't remember it now. The point is, apparently I'm a loud eater, to which I say, "Jordan, dear husband of mine, darling love...would you rather have a wife who goes running three times a week and then wakes you up as she eats a heart-healthy breakfast or a wife who does not exercise and then wakes you up when she moves in her sleep and accidentally smothers you with her fat rolls?" I think you see where I'm going with this.
* * * So there you have it Three ways I annoy Jordan while doing absolutely nothing. He's so lucky to have me, don'tcha think?