Things I loathe
There are certain things that, frankly, I just cannot stand.
Disclaimer: Just because I am choosing to focus on the negative this morning does not mean that I am always a negative person. I happen to have a panoply of things that I love, too (one of which being the asparagus bruschetta that I ate at the Sitting Room last night – an explosion of flavor so delicious, it was almost painful), but now is simply not the time nor place for cheer.
So without further ado, THINGS I LOATHE:
* Fleece. The idea of fleece is nice – soft, warm, cozy – but in reality, to me, the fabric has an affect akin to nails on a chalkboard. Who knows why, but when I touch it, I am afraid that my fingernails are going to crack apart. The 2006 Parsons’ family Christmas picture involved us all wearing our new matching LL Bean fleeces (I know… you wish your family was as cool…), and my mom practically having to forcefully pull mine down over my head. Fleece is always covered in dog hair and long strands of Tahitian Dawn, which brings me to my next topic…
* Hair that’s detached from the head. I don’t mind touching hair, as long as it is still firmly rooted in the scalp. Once it’s loosened, a free agent falling to wherever it might land (MAYBE ON ME, MAYBE ON ME, EWWWWW), it takes on a disgusting, alien persona, and there is nothing grosser than hair on the bathroom floor.
* “King Kong.” I found this to be the worst movie ever. I distinctly remember sitting in the theater on Christmas night 2005, and every 10 minutes or so exchanging glances with my mom and my sisters, like, “This must be what it feels like to die.” The ape doesn’t even show up for the first hour and a half… and even at that point, you’re only half-way through. I mean, come on… dinosaurs? aboriginals? Jack Black? I felt nothing for the poor beast – I was too distracted by Naomi Watts’s vacant stare accompanied by a half-open mouth.
* The awful way that my hands feel after peeling an orange: contaminated and dry. I normally have at least one cut on one of my fingers, made altogether evident by the excruciating sting of citrus juice. How is it that so much pain can be caused by one tiny paper-cut? You might as well skin me and douse me in lemon juice.
* Christian awkwardness in the form of promise rings, unity candles, and foot-washing. Promise rings are for couples who are too young, broke, and unprepared for marriage (i.e. should not even be considering marriage in the first place). The unity candle is the gratuitous tradition that no one is really moved by, but somehow the bride and groom feel compelled to include in their ceremony anyway. And foot-washing? I’m sure that there’s a time and place – I’m sure, right? Maybe? I can’t think of one right now. I’m a Christian girl who sees a time and a place for biblical tradition – and yet, foot-washing? I cannot handle it. Just try to change my mind on this one – just try.
* Comic Sans font. I read something in Comic Sans, and I imagine Goofy’s voice reading it – it’s just a silly, nonsensical print. Me? I’m an Arial girl, and I live in an Arial world.
This list is far from complete. But I feel confident in saying that I would rather be forced to memorize the book of Leviticus than experience anything mentioned here.