Pet Peeves

Sometimes I honestly wonder whether or not people are aware of their own stupidity/annoying habits.  And I guess that would mean I’d have to wonder about myself.  Everyone’s got issues, especially yours truly.  However, I truly believe that if we were to simply be made aware of said issues, we might be able to change them.  Or at least give them a little tweak.

If any of you happen to watch New Girl, you’re familiar with the “Pogo” episode in which each character is identified as having a pogo, or something that everyone talks about when they leave the room.  For example, Winston’s pogo is literally that – a pogo.  He walks around with morning wood every day and without realizing it, bumps into/springs off of his roommates.  Hence the term “pogo.”

My coworkers and I discussed this phenomenon in detail and it was revealed that my pogo is that I take my sweet ass time getting ready.  While everyone else is standing, computers in hand, ready to head off to a meeting, I’m still deciding if I should take just a pen or a pen and a highlighter – and wait, do I really need my notebook too?  My calendar?  Hurry the fuck up.

So today I got to thinking about pet peeves.  Those little things that drive you absofuckinglutely insane.  In the scheme of things, they’re really not that big of a deal.  But nonetheless, they’re annoying.  And they make you want to cut someone.  Or at least scare them with a shank.

  • Grammar Mistakes Nobody’s perfect.  Typos happen.  Autocorrect is a little bastard.  I get it.  What I don’t get is how you can misspell a word that you can clearly look up on dictionary.com for the correct spelling.  There’s no such thing as “reeking havoc.”  That would mean you smell like havoc.  And what the fuck does that even mean?  Look it up before you post in on Facebook for the world to see your stupidity.  I know you read and have an education.  You’re an actor for fuck’s sake.  Don’t you read scripts all the time?  Books?  I mean really, unless you’re foreign, there’s no excuse.  Also – please, for the love of all things holy, learn which to/too/two and your/you’re and there/their/they’re to use appropriately.  “Me to!” means what exactly?  You to where?  You to do what?  Jar Jar Binks would speak more elegantly.  When shit like this happens, I have to do everything in my power to hold back a sarcastic comment or an outright grammar correction.  Because if I let myself do that for every asinine mistake out there, I would look like the biggest dick on the planet.  And really, I guess I’m admitting with this paragraph that I’m the biggest dick on the planet.  Because who really cares?  Oh that’s right – any and every potential job you apply for in the future and any and every potential boss that has at least a high school education.  Unless you plan on flipping burgers at McDonald’s for the rest of your life, I suggest you invest in a dictionary.  Stat.
  • Broadcasting Weight Issues But Not Doing Anything To Change  I like cake.  Sometimes I like it too much.  This is why I do not aspire to be a runway model anytime soon.  However, I happen to be quite happy with my figure and have accepted my curves as womanly and something I’m proud of.  I would rather have a little cushion for the pushin’ and be able to occasionally indulge in beer and fries and pies and everything else that’s horrible for you but oh-so-good – and be happy.  But they’re called “indulgences” and “snacks” and “treats” for a reason.  If you eat them all the fucking time, you will get fat.  End of story.  Unless of course you have the metabolism and workout ambition of Michael Phelps.  Then, ignore what I just said.  Where my pet peeve comes in is when people who are clearly overweight sit and complain about how they want to lose weight and be skinny or whatever – but as they sit there, they consume a Mountain Dew, Cheetos, and a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese.  Or they try to fool everyone and themselves that they’re “eating right” by having a Smart Ones meal for lunch, then diving into the open bag of chips on the team table and making not-so-funny jokes about how nobody should worry because they’ll be happy to polish off the bag.  Ha.  Ha.  Ha.  I’m sure your arteries are cracking up right now as well.  Don’t get me wrong – I know it’s helluh hard to lose weight – been there, done that.  And you may think I’m a heartless bitch for being so candid.  But really.  Don’t complain unless you’re actually trying to fix it.  If you’re comfortable with your size and eating habits, great!  Embrace it!  I will respect that a hell of a lot more than if you sit and whine for weeks on end.  Those love handles aren’t going to minimize themselves.  There’s no magic weight loss potion out there.  Hard to believe, but I bet Jennifer Aniston actually works out for her figure.  Just a thought.
  • Talking During Movies  I paid $10 to see this film.  Don’t ruin it for me.  I don’t give two shits about what you think is going to happen or who’s going to die or how hot you think the lead is or your theories on why the two lovers don’t have as much chemistry as you think you’d clearly have if you had her role.  Shut. The. Fuck. Up.  I also refuse to watch movies at home with people who feel the need to comment on every little plot twist.  Or people who don’t actually care about what happens in the film and instead talk to you about what they did that day and what they bought at the mall, yada yada.  I was once watching Simon Birch in my dorm with two of my best friends.  The movie started and about 15 minutes in, they wouldn’t stop giggling and dicking around and chatting.  So I turned up the volume.  When that didn’t work, I paused the movie, turned to them and said, “Listen.  I really want to watch this movie.  If you don’t shut up, you can leave.”  I don’t fuck around.
  • Overly Cheery Morning People  I love lazy mornings.  I’m a chipper motherfucker on weekends when I can sleep in till 10, enjoy a few cups of coffee, and read my book or catch up on a show.  I’ll chat for hours and there will be fucking sunshine shooting out of all my limbs.  It’s the weekday mornings when I finally roll out of bed after my third alarm and zombie walk to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee that I cannot stand chit chat.  I need at least 30-45 minutes to myself – I need some coffee in my system, breakfast, a hot shower, and then – and only then – could I maybe have a light discussion.  It isn’t you, it’s me.  I apologize in advance for my crabbiness, but when I’m giving grunts instead of formulating words, I would go ahead and take that as a “she is NOT in the mood to talk and NO nothing is actually wrong so stop asking that question over and over – she just isn’t an early morning person.”  And just to drive the point home, watch this brilliant commercial: Happy Morning.
  • Cutesy Nicknames  When I studied abroad, one of my roommates always played the “mom.”  Sweety, I don’t think that’s a good idea.  Honey…don’t cross yet.  Honey, really?  If I wanted to live with my mother I would have saved a hell of a lot more money just driving back to Wisconsin.  It got so bad at one point that while on a weekend trip to Nice, she grabbed another friend and warned her not to cross the street yet because the big bad cars were speeding by.  That was it.  I was done-zo.  The next time we were out at the bars, when we were all a little drunk and crouched on the steps of a random building attempting to take selfies (totally normal), she kept insisting we leave because we were supposed to meet friends at the next club.  We kept taking pictures.  She finally grabbed the camera, said “I’ll take the picture” then proceeded to walk away with my camera.  “Oh hell no.  Give me my fucking camera back.  I’ll stay here all fucking night and take as many fucking pictures as I want.”  And that was the end of that.
  • No Sense of Urgency  When the elevator door opens, kindly exit in a timely manner.  Don’t stand there gaping at the pretty magical new floor you’re on and finish your stupid ass conversation about the time you flew on Delta and had to stay on the runway for two hours.  I have places to be and people to see.  It seems like people don’t get the clue until I start walking into the elevator.  Then all of a sudden it’s like, “Oh, excuse me – so sorry! Didn’t even realize!”  Yes you fucking did.  Have some awareness, please.
  • Moochers  There’s this unwritten rule that if you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours.  I’ve got this round of drinks, you grab the next happy hour.  Sure, I’ll pay for the ice cream – you drove us here!  That’s what friends are for, right?  However, if you take take take take take and never give, I will inevitably get tired of it.  You may think you’re getting away with murder, but I’m not a fucking idiot.  I see exactly what you’re doing.  A friend lived with us for a month last summer and while she stayed in our humble abode, she drank my coffee (with cream) every morning.  I had no qualms about it – I don’t mind sharing that kind of stuff.  If I make a pot, have at it!  But then we ran out of coffee and creamer.  So, at the grocery store, the three of us passed by the coffee aisle.  “Hey – I’ll grab us some more coffee if you could just pick up the creamer.  It’s right down that aisle.”  Note: a can of coffee costs around $7-8.  A bottle of creamer costs less than $3.  “Oh, actually I don’t really use creamer lately.  I’m into black coffee.”  “Oh…okay.”  Said friend then walked down the next aisle with my other roommate and said, “Well, I mean, I’ll use the cream if it’s there.”  Fuck you bitch.  How the fuck do you think it gets there?

Patience is, of course, a virtue.  Mine just has its limits.

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4 thoughts on “Pet Peeves

  1. I love it! Hahaha. Everything I didn’t mention in my post is here, from the movies to moochers. Along with the moochers one is giving people lifts. I don’t mind giving people a lift to places whenever they need it, and 90% of the time I won’t even ask for petrol money, but the one time I need a lift and you don’t provide when you’re clearly capable and don’t have a reasonable excuse really gets me annoyed.

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