Thursday, October 9, 2008

It must be getting close... OR "What I hate."

You know what I hate?

I hate that so many people think that just because I'm bubbly and accomodating, that I'm ditsy and stupid. Really? I mean come ON! If you're one of these people, just know that I'm on to you, okay? And cut it out, cuz it's rude.

I hate when someone tells you that they have never approved of any decisions you have ever made, but they are glad you turned out alright anyway. Really? You didn't approve, but I turned out, so keep it to yourself cuz what's the point in telling me now other than to make me feel like mud?

I hate when people do things to piss me off just for fun. It's mean and un-friendly. Cut that shit out.

I hate that my husband comes home at dinner time to a clean house and a prepared dinner and clean (albeit unfolded) laundry but a sweaty body and greasy hair (because not only did she not get to take a shower in the morning after her speed training but she's spent nearly the whole day cleaning) and says, "You didn't change her diaper since she got home from school?" This after he's been home for nearly two hours. I don't think he changed her when he brought her home from school either. Hmmmmm...

I hate when people want to keep you dangling on a string just so they can have an audience. A fan. Because they know that you are generous with your praise and they need to hear it, even though as soon as you pet their ego again, you won't hear from them for a week or so, or so, or so.

I hate that I told a friend the truth about something her husband did to me when I was a child that messed me up for pretty much most of my life and instead of being like, "Yeah, thanks for sharing that with me. That sucks. I'm glad everyone has been able to move on," she pulled the same move as everyone else and said, "Get out of my life." Sure, I probably shouldn't have told her. I don't know why I did, even. But I'm not sorry I did, somehow. We were becoming such good friends and maybe I felt uneasy to keep lying by omission. *shrug*

I hate that I don't know how to feel about anything. That much of the time, I'm really happy to be here but that I know part of it is because I know it's so temporary. And that other times, I'm homesick because I'd like just a tad of familiarity and confidence and security. To feel "cool" again like I know I am. And to not have to keep telling my own self that I'm cool because French people just don't know, just.how.cool I am in real life.

I hate not having the vocabulary and cultural capital to be able to express EXACTLY what I want to say. To be able to show that I do know what I'm talking about some times and that I'm not some stupid foreigner who is always searching her mental vocabulary.

I hate when French people you've just met correct teensy French mistakes like the gender of articles. Who gives a shit? Would you rather I just speak English? I can, you know? And I'll express myself a LOT better, but you still won't freaking understand me!!!!!!

I hate how people think that honking your horn over and over and for longer and longer actually does something... I'm sure they are the same people who keep pushing the damn elevator button because they think it's going to make it get there faster. *eye roll*

I hate people thinking that just because I am trying to do EVERYthing I can organically that the first thing they should do when they come over is point out everything that is NOT organic/natural/green. Shall I reciprocate?

I hate the handful of friends who because they know I'm bisexual, think it's okay to make jokes about me digging chicks. To actually point out a chick and ask if I dig her. To actually make the sound hyuck, hyuck. My sexuality is 1)none of your business, really and 2) not to be the butt of your stupid jokes/inuendos.

Okay... I think I'm done now. If the above paragraphs have alienated you, well, I hate that, too. But I won't apologize. You'll just have to chalk it up to it being close to that time of month...

Oh, yeah... I hate it when people see you pissed off and ask you if you're about to start your period... Oh, oh, oh, or if you're pregnant, they say, "Wow, you're hormonal," as if your being pissed off is less valid or as if the stress of carrying an unborn human and its paraphenalia inside your body isn't enough of a cause to be pissed off, that you have to add HORMONES to the mix.

So,... what do YOU hate?

6 comments:

Erin said...

Yeah, sister! I hate anyone that makes you or me or anyone else feel stupid. So if you need me to f$#k some s*%t up, consider it done.
I hate that the majority of voters make their decisions based on the "facts" they get from the debates and/or media soundbites. Excuse me?
I hate that I still feel shy in front of groups of people in professional situations. I'm mean sheesh, I'll be 33 in a few days. Will it ever change?
I hate haters.
But I love you! You are one of the most colorful, ambitious, passionate, gregarious and talented people I have ever met. And I'm so glad to know ya. So there.

Erin said...

I'm just realizing that I said "I hate haters"...but not meaning hating people who hate things, but mean people. Mean people suck. I think you probably knew what I meant, but just thought I'd clarify. :)

Rachel said...

Man, I should have read this before saying I thought you were going to tell us you were preggers. :) Love ya!!! (PS- People are idiots.)

Joelie said...

E... I'll keep your number on speed dial in the case that some sh!t needs to get fu@ked up. *wink*

I agree about the voters thing and I hate that people can't see right through all the rhetoric and realize that these people are CAMPAIGNING... by the very nature of campaigning, they are NOT who they are in real life. They are putting on a show... All of 'em. So, praise and worship if you wanna but don't be all disappointed when they trip and fall off that pedestal. Whew. Guess I needed to get that out, too. And I knew what you meant about haters, yo. I feel ya.

R... No sweat, babe. I ain't preggers (and won't be until after the Paris marathon) so I don't have to worry about people accusing me of being hormonal until then. *wink* And if, at that point, they DO... I'll call Erin. *grin*

Stacy said...

Here here to that.

Laurel said...

I think you're pretty cool.

I hate that you're not here.