Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Don't Speak

I once dated a dude who'd call me every fucking morning just to hear my morning voice.
He thought my groggy anger was cute. I found his early morning calls annoying and stupid.
Four month relationship that lasted four months too long.

Anyway, I've always found my voice annoying. Downright ugly.
There's a husky quality that borderlines tranny whenever I'm sick.
People who knew me as a toddler make fun of me, because my voice was so jock-y as a baby. There's a particular line I'm popular for:
Te quero muncho, MUNCHO!
Which, in correct Spanish would have been said as "Te quiero mucho, mucho," aka "I love (like) you a lot, A LOT!" but again, I was a stupid toddler with a voice apt for James Earl Jones' offspring.

That was back when I was learning how to talk. Now that I don't really interact with people, there are days when I don't even speak. I can go days without hearing my own voice... unless it's just the one in my head, which never shuts the fuck up and loves to criticize.

This brings me to today.
My coworkers try to get me to talk, and while I do, I tend to do it at a low volume... because I do that when I'm shy. It's like forcing a mouse to talk.
Can't I just sit here and work, guys? Must I really have an opinion on stuff? Must you really want to hear it?
The coworkers who try to get me to talk are all dudes. The chicks are click-y and don't give a shit about me. I guess you could say they give me my privacy.
Since today we had to heavily rely on quality control issues, we basically shot the shit at our cubicles, discussing music.
Most of the time I had a comment (usually along the lines of "Oh, I KILL this song on Guitar Hero." Because I imitate Kurt Cobain and Coldplay's Chris Martin to perfection... Gold Star on Expert perfection. On a good day, I'll also be killin' it as Muse's Matt Bellamy. "Plug-in Baby" has to be one of my GUILTIEST pleasures to sing along to... I just love singing the "I've exposed your lies, bayyyybeeee" part. I find it sexy as hell. haha), the guys would have to ask me to speak up.
Musketeer: I always have to ask you to speak up. You need to learn how to be a little louder.
Me: But I have such a stupid voice. When I'm loud, I'm annoying as fuck.
Musketeer: No, it's not stupid at all. Your voice is beautiful.
Dude1: I find your voice rather pleasant. I wish I could hear it more often.
(I kiiinda have a crush on this dude)
Christ! Are you serious?! WTF?
Dude2: What are you talking about? You have a pretty voice!
(this guy's a sweetheart. Each time I see him, I get the urge to squeeze him in a tight bear hug)
Me: I've never liked the sound of my voice. I'd rather be silent than listen to the stupid noise made by my faulty voice box.

The next five minutes were spent listening to the guys in the office compliment my voice, and me, telling them there's no way they're going to convince me to speak louder (who understands men? They complain when girls don't shut the fuck up, then they complain when a girl is too quiet. I'd rather be next to someone who doesn't say a word, than someone who won't shut the fuck up).

Weirdest five minutes of my life (though I did feel this strange happiness when I heard Musketeer give me that sincere compliment. My friends are definitely responsible for my ability to communicate and behave in public. They give me the security and comfort I need to not feel stupid about shit).
And of course, the chicks in the office thought I was doing it on purpose... because girls can't be naturally timid and quiet.

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