On a much more childish and selfish level....my five housemates and I had a 'house meeting' tonight, our third in the four semesters we've been living together--we tend to get along fine, with no real reason to meet. However, this time four of my housemates were calling the meeting because they had already decided we were having a party, set a date and started inviting people well before they felt inclined to let the other two of us know about it, because they knew that Katie and I were opposed to the notion. In fact, two years ago when we signed the lease, we signed on the condition that there be no big parties in the house--we wanted a nice house that didn't reak of beer, a notion that the other housemates echoed. Jump to two years later and there we were, sitting in the living room, making an agreement about what could and could not happen at said party, which was already happening being that people were already invited. I was livid about them going behind our backs--I'd had a higher opinion of them than that; it was surprising and disappointing. And I admit, I definately started to lose my temper with one of my housemates, but hardly got bad about it. So the compromises were set, the meeting was over and we went to respective rooms, until the four party-throwers were suddenly all in one room, behind a closed door speaking in hushed tones. I did not desire to listen in, but what I heard in passing was enough to know that I was happy I didn't hear the rest. Personal attacks just seem to come in waves, don't they? And I struggle with my reaction to it--maturity says, "Don't let it get to you, just watch what you say, who you say it to and wait it out--you'll be out of the house in 90-some odd days. Till then, keep to yourself, don't put yourself out there for them, don't trust 'em, just ride it out." but my more childish side wants to go out, start a fight and play mean, drag it out, etc. Be snappy, sassy, bitchy and generally very much the angry female. I have a terrible ability to rip people apart with words, a talent I struggle to control. The bridges are there for the burning, ya know?
I guess I'm more hurt and surprised--it's a wound to the pride for sure, a wound to friendships and a wound to trust. It's these times when I remembering the "honor one another above yourselves' and the "better to be a nobody and have a servant than pretend to be a somebody and have no food." but where the rubber meets the road I struggle to put them into practice. I guess that's my prayer this week--that I will be able to approach this in a more mature way than it's being presented from the other side. Whew. A daunting task.
