Sound Rage

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I giggled to myself earlier, eavesdropping on the television whilst working on some university things. Yes, I placed myself prone to a risk wherein my already ruined reputation in front of my family would be ruined even more had I been caught giggling to myself in a menacing manner at early hours in the morning. 

She's lost it! they would think. Although I bet they probably already know that, but that is besides the point. The point is that there was something that initiated this wild little giggle, and that is what was said in an advertisement for tomorrow night's show about a segment titled 'Sound Rage', wherein it is alleged that a heap of Australians feel enraged by the constant repetition of certain sounds.

The reason behind my giggling is that if Australians are enraged by repeated sounds, how do they think Lebanese people feel? Having grown up in a strictly Lebanese household, I will gladly represent the entire population of Lebanese people alike in telling everyone how it feels to be surrounded by annoying noises and how I manage not to lose my sanity to the point where Duke Nukem enters my body and massacres my family. I will tell you all how my life has not turned into a first-person shooter game like Doom - but first, I will expose you to some of the annoying noises I face on a daily basis.

The telephone
When the telephone rings, we all run and hide. Chances are that on the other side of the line, my grandpa awaits to deteriorate our hearing abilities and repeatedly ask the same questions that he asked twenty minutes ago. I tolerate this because yes, he is old and though he is old he still is more intelligent than most old men I have come to meet.

Dinnertime
My father likes to make it clear to everyone, non-verbally, that his dinner is hot and that he is extremely hungry. Not only does the noise of blowing annoy me, but I have to deal with having 3.4% of his dinner crawling on my face and the smell burning up my nose. In fact I still feel that my left eye is drier than the right because of the episodal food-blowing that occurred seven hours ago.

Alright?
My father also likes to make it clear to everyone that he in some way or another cares about their existence. This is done by repeatedly asking, "alright?" Whatever the case, the question is always, "alright?" I walk out of the toilet and walk past him, "alright?" I wake up and go to have breakfast, "alright?" I walk past him with coffee, "alright?" I walk back past him without coffee, "alright?" It never ends.

Yawning through the removal of curses
Yes, my parents believe that if you chant some prayer that can only be passed on from boy to girl whilst stroking the victim of the 'evil eye', that each time you yawn parts of the curse is removed. Note that I said part - this means that my mother has to yawn in my face on an interval of every fifteen seconds, wide, breath-drawing yawns that suck the insomnia out of me. There are three other members in my family. Multiply these yawns by three and you have my life.

Computer generated images
If we are watching a really well edited movie with awesome computer generated images, my mother and father will sit there saying, "oh my gahd! Oh my gahhhhhd!" This does not end until after the movie and thirty minutes or less after that depending on how great its ending was.

There are plenty more instances of utter annoyance that I have not documented, but the point is that there are more elements of rage than just sound. People who feel victimised by the sounds of others should come spend a day with me. Or try to spend Mondays four years ago with me where my lactose intolerant sister, who did not identify her problem with milk until recently, used to sit in front of me in the car after a breakfast full of hearty goodness, and get repeated blows to your face with both sound and smell. Then try to convince me how little noises annoy you.