Apr 30, 2008

A List of Insignificance

Photo: She annoys me, too.

Things I find annoying that are fairly insignificant:

*Putting on a pair of freshly laundered pants, then sitting in them for three hours; I hate it when they lose their shape and the seat of my pants are hanging by my knees.

*Wilted lettuce. I know it happens, but something about its' wastefulness really bugs me.

*A warm, sunny day with rain. Pick a team, that's all I'm saying.

*Misspelled text messages; I'm talking about the ones I erroneously send to people before checking them. I feel uber-lazy or like I have meathooks for hands.

*Asymmetrical things; edgy haircuts, contemporary furniture design, clothing, buildings, eyebrows.

*The texture of fish. I love to eat fish, but I'm not in it for the rubbery, concrete-colored coating.

*The smell of sulfur. Matches are my enemy.

*People who don't care about acceptable parallel parking; do they not see how everyone is in a straight line while they're parked at a right angle?

*Guys who like, love, and worship only Asian chicks; the sex-kitten hero worship can reach a yellow-fevered pitch, which tends to drown out any real social life the guy could be happily having. This is especially annoying when the guy hasn't actually dated an Asian girl, much less met one, in his entire freaking life.

*Ugly dogs. Why do we love them? They're everywhere.

*The color purple; it's too finicky. One shade this way and it's a symbol of royalty, one shade lighter and it's the chosen color for an 80's hair band. I'm almost a fan of aubergine, but only when it suits me.

*People who use the words 'retarded' and 'whatever' too much in a conversation. Like me.

*Squeaky swings. I can hear one through my bedroom windows, coming from the park across the street. That is the only soundtrack you would ever need to film a children-of-the-undead slasher flick; and yet, it's the soundtrack of my dreams. Delightful.

*Trees without leaves. I just feel hopeless looking at them. And fat.

*DVD jewel cases (is that what they call them?). The plastic number your DVD's come in. They're cold, ungrateful, and hard to open. Great design strategy.

*Round-toed dress shoes. The 21st Century called, and the message was this: your shoes suck.

*Carpet stains. In anyone's house, including mine (although I live in a hardwood palace). It doesn't matter what they are; they could be water, or milk from the baby's bottle, or a ketchup stain someone left at the last summer barbecue. Whatever it is, I will always think it's blood and that something sinister happened in your household. Thank you, Jon-Benet.

*Spiral notebooks. They seem so young and hopeful to me, but I can never find a use for them.

*Coffee drink orders that are longer than this blog. To be fair, I'm not a coffee drinker, I'm a hot chocolate girl; so anything that is longer than 'tall caramel latte' is going to piss me off. But before the iced grande half-caf, non-fat, no-foam, single-shot, soy vanilla latte you ordered, you had to have consumed something else.... what was it, juice? ...milk? ...water? I can guarantee, all of those things are better for your overall health than coffee. Liberate yourselves!

Ah, Seattle.


Michelle Auer said...

The squeaky swing reminded me of when I used to have a neighbor who had a squeaky door. It just bothered me listening to it squeaking in the wind. (IT was an outside screen door that they never closed) So, one very late night, after a couple of drinks, I decided I was going to WD40 that sucker. I snuck up the stairs in my PJ's and slippers and sprayed all of their hinges. Could you imagine how that would have looked had I been caught? So silly. BUT, it worked. I suggest you hit those swings. With two squirts of the old WD40 that problem would be solved!

Snotty McSnotterson said...

The neighbors have come up with a few different scenarios: 1) We sneak over there, much in the same manner as you did, and make a human ladder to the top, so we can WD40 the swing. 2) We put one of the neighbors IN the swing, and swing them as high as possible, and while they're flipping over the swingset, they can WD40 the hinges. 3) We leave it and say the park is haunted. I like all of our options.