You know those things in life that you either see or hear or participate in on a daily basis but it just kills you a little bit inside each time because you really, really hate actually seeing or hearing or participating in them?
Well, not only do I but I also just so happen to have an entire list of them, of which I conveniently elaborated upon: not only to work though my psychological problems having to do with the following items but also to put them all in one place so that my magical mystery fairy godmother make them all go away with only one swipe of her fairy dust wand (I am considerate, you know)…
So here they are, in no particular order:
- Crafting – I love cutesy hand-made artesanio. How cozy cute are those handmade cotton flowers you can use as a pin or a hairclip or a key ring or for hiding a secret spy microphone? How sugary sweet are handwritten packages coming in from somewhere, someplace made with sparkles and sunshine and smiles? How absolutely touchingly tender does it make you feel when you have something made just for you with so much love? SO MUCH is the obvious answer; but, the thought of gluing things to each other with sparkles and lace and then coloring and then the doing it and making things, makes me absolutely shudder. It makes me shudder to the point where it makes me stress. It makes me stress to the point where I have no motivation. It makes me have no motivation to the point where I start to contemplate my life plan. It makes me contemplate my life plan to the point where I curl up in a ball in bed. It makes me curl up in a ball in bed until someone rescues me with pizza or thick and chunky chips ahoy and fills me up with artificial salty and sweet carbohydrates until I no longer what induced my ball in bed status.
- Indian food – the colors, the spices, the aroma, the mystery… I have even been to India and tried it. I have even been to Whole Foods hot buffet and tried it. I want to like it, I dream of liking it but the actual process of eating makes me want to curl up (once more) in a ball until I can get up and find me a a nice thicky juicy bleeding cheeseburger with mayo and ketchup and some fries on the side… with some more mayo and ketchup…
- Going to the gym – no explanation needed.
- Coca-cola – everyone likes it, even celebrities drink it. But, the color, so unnatural, the look, so bubbly, the taste, inhumanly. Give me some H2O infused with Darjeeling anyday, even though I do get sad that my taste buds and my stomach don’t let me jump on this bandwagon.
- Milk chocolate – who doesn’t like milk chocolate? After all, it is everywhere: cake, cookies, ice-cream, bars, brownies, candies… even spaghetti! Unfortunately, I don’t like it – too creamy or something, I don’t know but something about the flavor is off. But, oh, how I want to like it. How I would give anything to be able to answer to someone’s “MmMmm… isn’t a nice piece of chocolate the perfect end to this day?” with a Giant “YES! Yes, it is!” with imaginary but visual stars and fireworks exploding all around as I take a bite scrumptuously shaking my head with an up and down motion instead of my typical “No, thanks, I’m not the biggest fan…” of which is then responded to with a look of such utter disgust and disdain as if you are telling a child that Santa doesn’t really live in the North Pole. I get it, and I know, my life is one light dimmer as I don’t have the brilliant ability to eat (and enjoy) milk chocolate.
- Waiting on line for a Ryanair flight – inter-European flights tend to be dominated by the low-cost airline Ryanair, which is a good thing as you can fly, for example, between Barcelona and Berlin for the equivalent of like 30 bucks, but which is a bad thing as to get on the flight you must fight your way through a crowd of people like a rabid animal just to score a seat with a friend (and maybe even overhead space). How i wish I actually liked waiting on line for a Ryanair flight. How I wish I could use that time to catch up on a magazine, send some emails, even by pretending I was an actress in a movie called “Keep Calm and Ryanair on”, but I cannot. These hours of agonizing waiting on line to be able to get a “decent” (and by decent once again, you are lucky if you get a seat next to a companion – in these cases it is asking to much to have your luggage in arms distance) seat on the plane which you have honorably and rightfully acquired a place through payment. It is such a suffrance and not minding it (here, I won’t even say not liking it… but I will go with not even minding it, because the extent of my dislike is so grave) would really add me years of life, because I am positive, in fact, that I loose them as I get annoyed when I see one person save a spot in line for his/her 15-20 flying companions, as I loose my place in line because I need to prove to the stewdardess that my luggage can fit in its entirety in a cutout of a cardboard box the size of a box of ballet flats, as I waste hours and hours before the flight takes off in this line to try to avoide the aforementioned issues. It is a vicious and unavoidable cycle that would, I suppose not be so bad if you were an easy-going person who “just let’s things go”. But, I am not that person, and this process is SUCH a torture to me and will continue being so. The whole conundrum here is that Ryanair does have a priority seating option (by priority seating let us not confuse ourselves with anything that is a semblance of first-class, nono, priority seating means that you get to fight your way through the rabid animal line and no one is allowed to bite you, infecting you with disaease and misfortune, whilst you do so), that costs only 5€ more per ticket – but “He who supports the existence of these classist measures be the fool that pays them!” JUST ASSIGN SEATS, RYANAIR, AND IT WOULD BE ALL GOOD AND THE WHOLE AFOREMENTIONED RANT WOULD CEASE TO EXIST, bro! So as I said, not “minding” would make my life simpler, I wish I didn’t mind, I really did – flying may even have been pleasant… but well, we can’t have it all at a discounted rate, can we…
- Blow-drying my hair – a nice blow out is the key to feeling great, to feeling put together, to feeling on top of the world because the hair gods have blessed this head and I want to shout it from the rooftops. But, oh my, the horror, every morning after my shower when I need to dry my hair because it is so cold outside that not doing it may result in severe icicles (or maybe a head cold). Someone somewhere in some place once said that beauty is pain; but this “beauty” is giving my unwanted forceps ready to compete at the Miss Bodybuilder contest. Oh, the sacrifices one must make for the metaphorical cherry hair top on one’s metaphotical ice cream sundae head.
- Using my bike card – I fortunately live in a one of those city’s that offers a puclic bicycling system, so totally radically rocking awesome dude, right. Right. Except, though I am a card-carrying member of the system, dutifully paying my dues each and every year. I avoide the bikes like the plague. I would truly love to go home (well not after work, as I already explained how much I thoroughly enjoy my mission:decompression) from somewhere, anywhere and go to the first bike station, proudly swipe my card and be purposefully excercising (you know, when you exercise with a purpose, in this case, transporting myself to my cozy zone – home); but well, in real life, who really wants to break a sweat when they just want to eat chocolate chip cookies. So, day in and day out, I go about my daily business, taking alternate routes so as to not see the bicycle staying, out of sight out of mind, right? But what a sweet life it would be if I wasn’t so lazy and could tighten up my butt by going from point A to point B, on a bicycle that I don’t have to take in for maintenance or store and I can just leave anywhere… Oh wait, I can… I am just a lazy bastard… that also complains about not going to the gym. Life. Moving on.
- Public bathrooms – they are everywhere, made and strewed about to make life easier for everyone. A place to pee (or whatever) no matter where you are, for free, set up to make you feel just like your at home. Except you are not at home, you are in the middle of a busy street, people all over the place, pee-stained walls, floor and odor, NO scented candles, no cotton hand towel with almond-scented hand soap… makes me want to run for the hills, the mountains, outerspace, and open field… Comfort does not necessarily mean COMFORTABLE people!
- Bleu cheese – buffalo chicken wings, salad dressing, tostatas.. what isn’t better with blue cheese, except my stomach, my taste buds, my peace of mind, my gag reflexes. Such a good concept in theory, the Applebee’s 1/2 appetize menu always makes my mouth water… but in practice it never-failingly proves to effect my stomach something equivalent to the side-effects of a the morning after too many margaritas.