We all have things that drive us batty, right? Sometimes a bit crazier than average? Well, I seem to be in a cranky-puss mood the last couple of weeks–yes, my ribs still hurt like hell; no, I haven’t found a medical professional in Arizona who can bring me any relief; yes, I’ve tried every combination of over-the-counter medication; no, I’m not super enthused about needing narcotics every single day; yes, this has been going on for almost a month solid!
So, instead of trying to get my hearts-and-flowers-and-smooshy-Valentine’s jam on, I’m just gonna work with what I’ve got. Irritation and general annoyance. *For the record, I actually like Valentine’s Day, not the huge romantic gestures part of it, but things like frosted sugar cookies and construction paper hearts on every conceivable surface.
- Ribs, skeletal issues, body parts that hurt and will not be comforted. Ya’ll, I’m nearing the part where I am literally driven crazy by a back and neck and shoulder that just will not quit. I can see how people with chronic pain will go to drastic measures for a chance of reducing the pain. If a fairy-doctor told me to climb Mt. McKinley and locate the rare blue flower with red leaves, make it into tea, and then pour it over my head, I would book airfare to Alaska immediately.
- Pants that are too short. I realize the capri and ankle-length pant have been “in” for quite a while, and I’ve tried, I really have, but I just feel like my pants are too short.
- Nasty drinking water. Yes, it’s wet and nourishing, but I don’t want it to taste like iron, or dirt, or feet.
- People who don’t use their blinker. JUST LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU ARE PLANNING ON DOING BEFORE YOU SWERVE YOUR ENORMOUS, MOVING, HUNK OF STEEL RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.
- “Just for show.” I see stuff all over the place that is styled or Photoshopped to within an inch of it’s life in order to sell a particular idea, feeling, or encourage some kind of purchase. This drives me crazy; it just seems so fake and disingenuous.
- Ditto pockets on clothing that are not actually pockets, just pretend pockets. STOP LYING TO ME, POCKETS!
- I won’t eat chicken, or popcorn, or spicy food, or raisins, or blueberries, and half the time I will pick olives off whatever food they have sullied and the other half of the time I’ll put one on each finger and eat them like lollipops.
- Donald Trump. Just, no. No, no, no.
- The nine prickly hairs that incessantly grow on my chin. And the one dead center in the middle of my chest. Why!?
- Autocorrect. Hate, loathe, despise. Refer to it as Autocucumber at all times, out of spite.
- When people ask questions that can EASILY be answered by Google. I mean, I suppose I appreciate the thought that you assume my brain has the all-reaching power of a supercomputer, but why can’t you just look it up yourself? This is particularly annoying when people ask this kind of crap online/on social media.
- Those pop-up windows asking you to join a mailing list/download the mobile app after you’ve been on a website for approximately 2 seconds. Um, hello? I don’t even know who you are/what you offer/how you live your life. WHY WOULD I WANT TO AGREE TO GIVE YOU MY EMAIL ADDRESS OR ACCESS TO MY PHONE APPLICATIONS!?!?!
- The suburbs. I am not adjusting well.
- Emojiglyphics. The cute little smiley faces are fine; adding a heart or a prancing pony or whatever after your message is fine. Substituting words for sort-of-applicable pixelated images? Stop. (Also, why is this a default setting in my phone!?)
- Dark tan paint, the kind that covers the interior of almost all households in Arizona. I would take builder’s beige in a heartbeat over this yellowy-brown, it’s seriously the color of sad cardboard and was on every. single. vertical surface. I’ve got 2 rooms left to repaint and they are taunting me.
I’ve made a list of things I hate before; the carry-overs are popcorn and chin hair, although I have more chin hairs now than I did then. (Sob!) What do you hate? What drives you crazy? Pet peeves? Annoyances? Eye-roll generators?
Not to wallow in negativity… but I loved this post and LOLed a few times (because I a) agree or b) can commiserate or c) think you’re hilarious!). I mean, chin hair – why does that even exist on women? And Trump…. don’t even get me started. Just NO.
I sincerely hope that you’ll fid a remedy for your chronic pain (it makes me so angry that you have to deal with this)… and if it includes a trip to Alaska to find the rare blue flower: sign me up! I have a pair of well-working eyes and two capable legs.
Alaska, here we come!! 🙂
#9 and #11 – 100%! (I have that same goddamn chest hair too – WTF?)
Confession: I often think women ask easily answerable/look-up-able questions because they have been conditioned to be helpless, like, it’s somehow a desirable trait. And THAT, more than anything else, drives me bonkers on this particular issue. Yes, you CAN figure out that answer by yourself, but you need to rely on your own brain and intuition, and yes, that can be scary, but it’s probably better for you overall.
I’m also probably unnecessarily biased here, but I do think that women do this more often than men, and I think a patriarchal social culture is a component of that, and that bugs me.
Staying within the realm of ‘chin hair’…why is mine (yes, just one) on my upper left cheek!?! Oh, and its gray…lovely. Moving on to “other” hairs. How about that one that hangs out in your nose and then one day decides to start tickling the outside of your nose! Yea, that one.
I’ve got one hair on my ear that grows really long, (on, not in), but it’s still pretty baby-soft and blonde, so I hardly notice it. But the chin ones have GOT TO GO!
At 40+ weeks pregnant, I pretty much hate everything and everyone. My current favourites list are people who tailgate, then swerve around me to get right behind the person in front of me (good job, buddy, you’ve really gotten there a lot faster); Door to door sales people, especially ones that come back over and over; The slush – I’m happy that it’s warm and it’s not snowing but the slushy snow and gross muddy backyard = ick.
Door-to-door-ers drive me bonkers. I’m sure this reaction comes from living in a code-protected apartment for so long, but I somehow feel like my space is violated if someone comes to my door without sending me a text first; if they don’t have my number, they have no business being on my front porch. Obvs, Halloween trick-or-treaters (who are still children) are the exception.
1. Being talked down to because of my gender. The worst offenders were the Mercedes dealership in Lindon, Utah, where one dude wouldn’t even say hello or otherwise acknowledge my presence in his office whenever Loel and I brought the car in. (Unfortunately it was the only smart car dealership in a tri-state radius or we would have switched pronto), and a sporting goods store where *I* asked about their bike racks since *I* have a bike and the dude replied to Loel, who does not have a bike but has a penis which is apparently the same thing. I recently visited a local bike shop and wasn’t mansplained to, which first made me almost giddy with happiness, then super sad because why is that so rare??
2. People hearing I’m Dutch and then telling me stories about a trip they/their cousin/a friend four times removed took to Norway, Denmark, or Sweden. I can’t tell if they do not know these are different countries, if they think it’s close enough to be relevant, or if they’re trying to relate and this is the best they can do. (I once heard a U of U student who heard a prof was from Cuba tell her all about her trip to Argentina. Really.)
Also, I will totally accompany you to Alaska, no questions asked.
Mansplaining and all the rest of it MUST GO!
Oh yes. This is happening. Thank you for the outlet cuz this girl has stuff to say.
1. Stores with entrances and exits on opposite sides of the building (I’m looking at you IKEA, Lowe’s, and Home Depot). Do you realize that there is no ideal parking spot? What’s the deal? (and I totally walk in and out of any door I please and avert my gaze from any onlookers who may be judging me) (also, this is totally different that going in a door that says Exit that is right next to a door that says Enter. They are three feet apart. Use the right one, idiots!)
2. Unreliable friends. We all bail occasionally, but you people that bail or fail to follow thru any damn time are no good to me. That’s right, friend who can’t even send me a frickin’ recipe after I’ve asked three times, and all you need to do is take a picture of it and text it to me. You! Friend who asks me for recipes all the time and needs them RIGHT THIS SECOND because you’re making the food RIGHT NOW.
3. People in my public speaking class (mind you, it is online so all of our speeches are recorded) who scratch your heads during presentations. I have no idea what you’re talking about because I’m too busy envisioning the possible defects of your scalp. Do you have fleas? Are you contagious?
4. Speaking of speaking, people in my class that give speeches sitting down. Stand up and own it you pied ninnies!
(I get extra credit for Shakespeare references on your blog, right?)
Peace out, friend.
Haha! Extra credit granted!! <3 <3
Also, I'm dying over your public speaking classmates! Haha!! Yes! They probably have fleas!
Sorry that you are still in pain. Hope you find a doctor and/or physical therapist soon.
I’m with you on chin hair and the suburbs. I too ended up in the suburbs because that is where my husband owned a house, but I like exactly 3 things about the town where I live (1. my house 2. my gym 3. my library); everything else is either awful or mediocre. Well, having an Ikea 5 minutes away is rather convenient, I must admit.
I too hate Donald Trump, but it’s not so much the man himself. He’s an idiot and an entertainer and I’m not convinced he believes most of what he says. He’s not really worthy of my hate. No, it’s his campaign and followers that terrify me. These angry, hateful, fearful people make me understand more about the types of people who enabled the atrocities of history to occur.
Other stuff I hate: missing the 1-2 day window when my avocado is perfectly ripe, being addressed as Mrs. [Husband’s name], when my kickboxing class is so full that I worry I might accidentally kick someone or be kicked, commercials on Pandora
Haaaa… a hearty PREACH on practically all of these! (STOP LYING TO ME, POCKETS! Heeeeheeheehee!)
🙂 Glad you liked that. lol
I am right with you on the Mrs. Husband, that drives me nuts. And the suburbs…lawsy, I don’t know how so many people live here. Blergh. My library branch is tiny and musty and horrible, there are NO yelp-rated restaurants in a 10 mile radius, just chains like Chipotle, Smash Burger, and Chilis, and IKEA is still 45 minutes away. I live in hell.
Most of these make my list as well hahaha.
Donald Trump makes me fear for America. Crazy town! (You’re welcome to move in with me here in Canada if he’s elected.)
Noted. I’ll let you know in November. 😉