This family has problems

Communication is a sticking point around here. Instead of telling each other stuff we prefer to think that because we know it, everyone else must have read our minds and therefore knows it too. It causes some arguments. However, I am happy to inform you that not only am I not the only one in the family with communication issues (contrary to what you might think if you listened to some of the one-sided stories around here), it's not just our family who likes to keep to themselves.

So that you know who I'm talking about, our cast of characters is as following:

Me: Your friendly redheaded lifeguardblogger. And don't even tell me that's not a word.
Aly: A friend of mine that I knew before lifeguarding. She is now a lifeguard as well and we work together every Monday.
Aaron: Aly's boyfriend, who is in my math class. He realized who I was at almost the exact same minute I realized who he was. We know it was at the same time because we both told Aly on Facebook.
Blair: The girl who used to sit next to me in class but now makes the pilgrimage to the other side to sit with whatshername.
Sur: The Burmese girl who sits somewhere in between me and Aaron.
Virginia: My sister. She's silly.
Jesse: My brother. He plays banjo.
Tyler: A friend of VA and my other brother, Jesse. He lives in Tennessee and we see him once a year at RenoFest. They email.

So that's who we're dealing with. Now as you may or may not know (I use that phrase a lot. Y'all have very ambiguous knowledge.), my family went to RenoFest for the weekend. We left early Friday morning, so I skipped school. Being an overachiever, I was naturally worried about who I was going to get notes from when I got home.

Since Blair no longer sits by me, I wasn't about to yell across the room to ask her for notes. It just wouldn't do. I couldn't ask some other people (nameless) because they don't know what they're doing and their notes would be of questionable validity. I couldn't ask some other people (nameless) because they think they know everything and probably write specific problems rather than actual notes.

So I elected to ask Aaron for notes. The kid is apparently a genius and got a higher grade than me on the last test. I figured he was a safe bet. He obviously knows what he's doing.

The problems with this scheme are 1). I pretty much don't say anything in class, 2). Aaron pretty much doesn't say anything in class, 3). We've definitely don't say things to each other in class, 4). We haven't even talked any other time, and 5). He sits about six seats away from me, which is obviously much too far to yell.

But I really needed notes.

Please note that while Aaron and I have never actually spoken face-to-face, we have a lot of three-way conversations through Aly. She tells me his grades and we talk about the test. I assume she tells him my grades and they talk about the test. You get the idea. We don't actually talk to each other, but we know what's happenin'.

I finally texted Aly when I got to class on Wednesday morning. "Do you know if Aaron will be in class on Friday?" I asked. Aaron wasn't there yet so naturally I couldn't ask him. It was a great excuse. Aly didn't text me back and I was left biting my fingernails (not really). She told me later that she tried but her phone was wicked. My words, not hers. Aly's very sweet and non-antagonistic. Usually.

When Aaron walked into class I didn't need to ask him, because I had just texted Aly. Right? Right.

Are you getting the extent of our communication issues here? Just wait. It gets better.

Finally I sent Aaron a Facebook message asking if I could borrow his notes when I got back. I even friended him, to show that I was really sincere. Or something like that, anyway. He didn't reply, but I figured that got the message across so I didn't worry about it.

Right about now you should be getting an inkling that I am not the only uncommunicative person in this little non-exchange.

We had a fun weekend and returned safe and sound. I honestly forgot that I even needed notes until right before I got to school, but I wasn't worried. When Aaron walked in, I thought, "Eeeehhhhh, um, I'll ask him after class. Cough."

Imagine my surprise and delight--and inner giggles--when Sur leaned over to me in the first few minutes of class and handed me a piece of paper.

"What's this?" I whispered.
"It's from him," she whispered back.

I peeked past her, and there was Aaron writing in his notebook like he hadn't moved at all. I had gotten my notes and not a word did we say.

"Oh! Thanks!" I said to Sur.

Later I got the nerve up to say, "Hey Aaron, I'll copy these tonight and bring 'em back tomorrow, is that ok?" To which Aaron replied, "Yeah, sure." He probably thought I sounded very angry and intense, but I was just in a hurry and intense. Really. Oh, and completely unused to actually speaking to people at school. Creepy.

When I gave his notes back, I even said, "Here's your notes Aaron, thanks," and he even said, "Oh, thanks."

I was going to tell him that Aly told me we should be friends, but I think five words were quite enough for one day.

I think our relationship is looking very steeply uphill. Oh yes.

In other words, we'll probably never say anything to each other again, at least at school. We're so weird. I know. You don't have to tell me.

You think I'm finished but I'm not. Cuz I'm not the only one with this little problem.

My sister Virginia also has this problem.

To understand this, you have to realize that she and Jesse have been emailing back and forth with Tyler for a year now, ever since last RenoFest. I get the impression that Virginia is quite vocal and even leaves Tyler at a loss for words sometimes, since apparently he'll wait for a very long time to reply to some particularly unusual thing she's said. My sister has a way with words.

She said about five of those words to Tyler at RenoFest. Apparently she said "hi" to him once, and then as we were leaving, literally driving away, she ran up with Jesse to get his banjo, but instead of going with Jesse, she talked to Tyler. She told me later that she said, "Uh, we're leaving. Sorry all I said was, 'Where's Jesse.'" And then she gave him a hug and left.

Can you say awkward?

The problem is not that we're shy. We're not. We just don't have anything to say. We weren't raised to speak constant nonsense to fill the space. That's an acquired skill, and we've definitely acquired it, but only at home and with close friends. If we have nothing to say, we're fine with not trying to say anything.

Unless we're typing. Then we talk way too much. You can tell, can't you?

I knew it.