Almost everyone and everything, at some point will annoy me. I was tempted to name this blog something rant-y or angry, simply because I figured that most of my posts would consist of venting. So far that has not been the case, but today that changes, in a big way.
Today I present a non-inclusive list of things that annoy the living shit out of me.
1) When people exhibit a lack of common courtesy and manners. Honestly, a large percentage of things that piss me off on a regular basis boil down to this. Whether it's being so self-absorbed in public that you don't watch where you're going, or what you're doing, and just expect that everyone else will get the fuck out of your way, or not thanking strangers who do nice things for you, or thinking that the rules of polite society don't apply to you and acting like an asshole, your behavior is guaranteed to raise my blood pressure on a regular basis. I have tried to ignore the jerks. I have tried to live and let live. So far, it has not been effective, because I firmly believe that the entire world would be a better place is people would just treat each other with courtesy, manners, and kindness.
2) Whistling, popping/cracking gum, humming, basically making any noise at all. Let me clarify this one. It is a fact of life that people will make noise as they go about their daily lives. And it is up to me to learn to live with the fact that I am hyper-sensitive to noise. Having said that, no one needs to listen to you whistle as you walk around the building. Whistling is one of the most grating noises a person can make, and I don't know why people (men, okay, MEN! I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, the number of women I have heard whistle as they walk around) think people want to hear this. Gum cracking and popping refers to constant cracking and popping. The occasional crack or pop, one that happens naturally or, if you decide to blow a bubble, don't bother me. It's the person who cracks his or her gum with every chew (how does that HAPPEN?) or has to pop a bubble ever single chew that gets on my nerves. People who sniffle when they're sick can fall into this category, also, depending on how often the sniffling happens, how many days in a row it has gone on, and whether there is freely available tissues, toilet paper, or other means of blowing the nose.
3) Calling my house or knocking on my front door to sell me something/convert me to something/convince me that your political candidate rocks! Yes, I am on the Do Not Call List. Yes, I still get calls. No, I do not answer them, because I have Caller ID and only answer the phone when I recognize the number. I registered to vote when I turned 18, got my absentee ballot, cast my vote, then promptly never voted again (it was for Bill Clinton's first term, for perspective). I updated my registration ahead of the Obama-McCain election, since I had moved many times since my first registration and I really wanted to vote in this election, but not where I used to live many moons ago. As soon as I did, I was inundated with political phone calls. Between the normal phone spam I get (not that much) and the political spam (a lot before an election), when the phone rings, I get angry. I have a Pavlovian response to the phone ringing that carries over into the phone conversation. It doesn't matter if I want to talk to the person who called, I am now at rage level 11 (on a scale of 1 to 10), simply because the phone rang. People knocking on the door is even worse. I'm referring to people knocking out of the blue, not delivery people. Now that I have a dog, the knocking drives my dog batshit. I adopted the attitude that if I am not expecting you, I will not answer the door. I will not hide, I will not act like I am not home. I am under no obligation to answer my door, so if I don't, just leave.
4) People who want to debate their hot button topic. This refers to people who love to beat the dead horse. They feel passionately about their religion/political party/political candidate/abortion/etc. and even though it is a topic where people have deeply held beliefs, and rarely change them, these folks love to shit-stir. I'm married to a shit-stirrer, in a way. He doesn't pick fights, but loves to go on and on about his topics of choice. I don't care. People's minds are rarely changed when people hold forth like this, and all it does is start arguments. I'm of the belief that so long as your opinion/value system doesn't actively harm someone (physically, mentally, or emotionally) then feel free to practice it. I don't need to practice it, in order for it to have any more value. The fact that I don't doesn't lessen it's value, so leave me be. I'll use an example: religion. I have religious friends, an atheist husband, and I am agnostic (I suppose). I don't care if you practice religion, I don't think any less or more of you. It's just something about you, like your hair color, or where you were born. My husband is one of those atheists who think that religion is for the weak, it's a crutch, etc., etc., and while he would never ever get into an argument with you to your face, he will go on and on with me about how it is stupid. My parents are very religious, and had I not nipped their efforts to bring me back into the fold years ago, I'm sure I'd be on the receiving end of their religious efforts. I don't judge them for being religious, and I don't judge my husband for not being religious, and them arguing about it isn't going to change anyone's mind, so how about we all agree to disagree, and live and let live, huh?
That's enough for today. I could go on and on, because a lot of things annoy me, but then this post would be the length of War and Peace. I will end by saying that I recognize that I am not perfect and I'm sure I do things regularly that annoys the shit out of people.
Recommended listening: I Hate People by Jemina Pearl and Fuck You by Cee-Lo Green.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
An open letter to my past
Someone I went to high school with passed away recently. She and I were not good friends, but we had good friends in common, so I saw the events unfold on Facebook. What happened isn't important to this post, what is important is that one of the people on my friends list said that she was glad that she had had the chance to reconnect with this friend before her passing. This got me thinking about friends in my past, friends that I have lost track of over the years. This post is dedicated to them.
Jill - You and I had been best friends since sixth grade. We went through the gawky, awkward years together. I still think you are the only person in the world, besides my husband, who truly, really, understands and gets me. We had so much fun together, no matter whatever it was we were doing. We drifted apart a little at the end of high school, but ended up together in college. I don't know whether going to the same college was a good thing, or the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. Either way, I think living together our senior year was the beginning of the end. I know I was a hot mess, and had been for many years, and you were going through a lot yourself. I wish I had been in a better place, and better able to help you through what you were going through. Regardless, once college was over and we were both married, you made it clear that you didn't want to be friends anymore, and that hurt. I thought we'd still be friends, maybe not ones who saw each other all of the time, but ones who saw each other once or twice a year, maybe sending e-mails back and forth. I've thought about you over the years. I would wonder how you were and what you were up to, but I didn't have the guts to pick up the phone and call you. I wish I could go back and pick up the phone, when I knew where you were and how to get a hold of you. I miss my best friend.
Megan - You and I (along with Kristy) had so much fun the last year or so of high school. I will never forget your chicken dance. We had a lot of fun in college, too (at least before everything got so dysfunctional). There's a lot about how your friendship ended that I wish I could go back and change. I miss you a lot, too. I would say more, but I can't be as vague with you as I could with Jill, and I'm afraid to say too much that would be identifying.
Dennis - I don't think you'll ever really know how much your friendship meant to me. In college, I met the evil version of you, the manipulative, controlling, asshole version of you, and it made me appreciate your pure friendship even more. I wish I could get together with you now and show you how normal and happy I've become, to show you that all those hours I spent crying on your shoulder were not in vain, that you made such a positive impact on my life. I can never thank you enough.
Michael - I forgive you. You were trying to find yourself in college, and as much as your manipulative, controlling actions hurt me at the time, I realize now that some of that might have been your insecurity about who and what you were. You and I had a really good friendship deep down, and it's too bad that all that other stuff got in the way. Although I forgive you, I'm not interested in ever speaking to you again. Letting go of the past, letting go of hurt and pain and resentment only goes so far.
Sometimes I think I should reach out and try to reconnect with some of these folks. Some would be easy to find (one has Facebook, I'm friends with someone who is still in touch with another), others would be more difficult to find. It's scary, though, to put yourself out there, open to rejection. Or worse...silence. I think an outright rejection would be preferable to radio silence. I can't decide whether this is incredibly selfish of me, because, after all, I want to do this because of my new philosophy of life (let things go, don't hold onto anger and resentment, life is too short for that). But then again, isn't almost all human contact inherently selfish?
The older I get, the harder it is to make real, lifelong friends. I feel like the friend-train has passed me by. Maybe I want to look back, since, to paraphrase Stand By Me, I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was younger. Jesus, does anyone?
I love my husband, don't get me wrong, but it is nice to have friends outside of my marriage too, you know?
Recommended listening: In My Life by the Beatles.
Jill - You and I had been best friends since sixth grade. We went through the gawky, awkward years together. I still think you are the only person in the world, besides my husband, who truly, really, understands and gets me. We had so much fun together, no matter whatever it was we were doing. We drifted apart a little at the end of high school, but ended up together in college. I don't know whether going to the same college was a good thing, or the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. Either way, I think living together our senior year was the beginning of the end. I know I was a hot mess, and had been for many years, and you were going through a lot yourself. I wish I had been in a better place, and better able to help you through what you were going through. Regardless, once college was over and we were both married, you made it clear that you didn't want to be friends anymore, and that hurt. I thought we'd still be friends, maybe not ones who saw each other all of the time, but ones who saw each other once or twice a year, maybe sending e-mails back and forth. I've thought about you over the years. I would wonder how you were and what you were up to, but I didn't have the guts to pick up the phone and call you. I wish I could go back and pick up the phone, when I knew where you were and how to get a hold of you. I miss my best friend.
Megan - You and I (along with Kristy) had so much fun the last year or so of high school. I will never forget your chicken dance. We had a lot of fun in college, too (at least before everything got so dysfunctional). There's a lot about how your friendship ended that I wish I could go back and change. I miss you a lot, too. I would say more, but I can't be as vague with you as I could with Jill, and I'm afraid to say too much that would be identifying.
Dennis - I don't think you'll ever really know how much your friendship meant to me. In college, I met the evil version of you, the manipulative, controlling, asshole version of you, and it made me appreciate your pure friendship even more. I wish I could get together with you now and show you how normal and happy I've become, to show you that all those hours I spent crying on your shoulder were not in vain, that you made such a positive impact on my life. I can never thank you enough.
Michael - I forgive you. You were trying to find yourself in college, and as much as your manipulative, controlling actions hurt me at the time, I realize now that some of that might have been your insecurity about who and what you were. You and I had a really good friendship deep down, and it's too bad that all that other stuff got in the way. Although I forgive you, I'm not interested in ever speaking to you again. Letting go of the past, letting go of hurt and pain and resentment only goes so far.
Sometimes I think I should reach out and try to reconnect with some of these folks. Some would be easy to find (one has Facebook, I'm friends with someone who is still in touch with another), others would be more difficult to find. It's scary, though, to put yourself out there, open to rejection. Or worse...silence. I think an outright rejection would be preferable to radio silence. I can't decide whether this is incredibly selfish of me, because, after all, I want to do this because of my new philosophy of life (let things go, don't hold onto anger and resentment, life is too short for that). But then again, isn't almost all human contact inherently selfish?
The older I get, the harder it is to make real, lifelong friends. I feel like the friend-train has passed me by. Maybe I want to look back, since, to paraphrase Stand By Me, I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was younger. Jesus, does anyone?
I love my husband, don't get me wrong, but it is nice to have friends outside of my marriage too, you know?
Recommended listening: In My Life by the Beatles.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)