On Anger and Spoiled

I'm not very good at anger. I never used to think of this as a problem, but now I am starting to wonder. I can rail against people very well when they are not present and I tend to speak my mind no matter the company (a failing and a virtue both), but when actually confronted with the source of my anger... well.
Part of the problem: Most of the time, the people who make me angry are people I love. I may want justice, but in the end I WANT to forgive the people I love. Life is really much nicer that way.
A note about the grudges I have held in my life, which are few but deep: they were a betrayal of love, in some form. If not love, at least trust, and I rarely trust with out at least some small measure of love. If not love, respect.
Hm.

I did a naughty thing today.
What did you do Carla?
Oh, now, I really shouldn't say...
Oh no, now you HAVE to tell...
Well, if you really want to know...
Out with it!
I threw a carton of spoiled milk out my window, which is, by the way, on the third story. In the middle of campus. If I were a properly behaved, responsible, and environmental person, I would simply have put it in the trash bin. Alas, it was not to be! Not only did I loathe the notion of having to carry the repugnant carton down the stairs and outside to the trash when I wasn't even wearing any pants yet, but the carton was... inflated. With some sort of gas, I think. There was only one course of action. I HAD to, don't you see? For SCIENCE.
So I flung it out the window. And you know what happened when it hit the ground? IT WENT BOOM. I mean it. There was an actual "BOOM" sound, a big one, as milk sprayed and spread across the grass in a deformed puddle that looked like nothing so much as the white blood of my enemies. I looked down triumphantly at the pathetic carton who had moments ago been so puffed up with pride and noxious gas. Victory was mine.