On Hating

I know that most of you know this, but I'm sort of a hater. For such a nice girl, it's hard to believe, but it's true. I get agitated with the behavior of strangers ALL THE TIME. And it makes my stomach churn acid, and my adrenalin gets pumping like I'm going to fight-or-flight.

1. Flipflops. See previous post. But I forgot one thing, which is that I HATE long toenails so much I can't even tell you. I hate it when toenails are even medium length, because they must be short. And worst of all, I hate when cute young girls wearing summery skirts and flipflops get FRENCH TOENAIL PEDICURES. For those of you who need this defined (Bob), a French Manicure is the type that accentuates the delineation between the white part of your nail and the pink part... they paint your whole nail sorta nudish/pinkish and then put an opaque white strip at the edge. When girls get this on their feet, it strikes me as horrendous in the same way seeing a girl wearing prosthetic nose hairs would. Why would you accentuate the length of your toenails???

2. Gum cracking. I hate gum snapping, popping and cracking. Rosie knows this, and so does Courtney. I get agitated with my own friends and family when I can even so much as barely hear the suggestion of gum in someone's mouth. I will routinely change cars on Amtrak or straight up get off the bus to avoid hearing this noise.

3. Repetitive noises. When Dennis uses the packing tape gun that's shaped like a shark, and it makes that loud tape noise, I start to get insane if it goes on too long. When a truck is backing up and keeps beep-beep-beeping, I start to freak. If a car alarm is going off near my window, I can't work. There is also a certain person in my office whose laugh sounds like a dying sheep, and although it's not completely repetitive, it is extremely upsetting. I know this noise thing is a problem that I would do well to solve, but I haven't been able to figure out how! My mom says I have a tolerance problem. She is right. I just can't seem to turn off the physical homicidal reaction I get to these things.

Anyway, this list is fun. I'll leave it alone for now and add more later as I think of things. (Things that make me freakishly intolerant and not really suited for life with other humans, that is.)

The Scourge of Things I Hate Contrasted with the Joy of Things I Love

Hate:

Girls who wear flipflops and think that flipflops are shoes. They're NOT SHOES! This morning I saw a woman on the bus who was wearing a business suit with black flipflops! Black flipflops are not "formal" flipflops. Neither should flipflops with a wedge heel be considered as an extra stylish version of the standard flipflop. Ladies, seriously, I really wish that you would not wear these things with a dress-up outfit. The appropriate use of the FF is with a really ratty pair of jeans or shorts and a tank top and you're actually going to the beach or just bumming around your block. Not for a job interview and not for going to class and not for Saturday night.

Update: I can't believe I forgot to mention this other particularity of my flipflop/toenail hate.

The only thing I hate worse than the start of flipflop season is this other character who shows up all year round - the Jock Wearing Those Blue and White Addidas Plastic Sandals with the Nubby Things on the Inside of the Foot Part and Who Never, Ever Picks up His/Her Feet So those Damned Things Slap Against the Ground All Day Long. He/she is often spotted in the bathroom of your suite at Foothill dorm at U.C. Berkeley. Pick up your feet, kid! Step lively!!!

Finally, I hate that I cannot sleep these days. CAN'T SLEEP. Am not sleeping. Actually, I'm surprised I'm not more tired right now.


Love:

Nice sandals. Strappy sandals that I cannot wear right now because my feet are too dinner-rollish due to pregnancy.

Also, love the weather today. As I was walking back from the doctor's to my office, I realized it was perfect ice cream weather. I noticed that this divey pizza place I walked past had ice cream, so I went in and asked for a mint-chip cone; the guy who served it up seemed like he had never done it before, and the ice cream kept falling off the cone back into the bucket. He was an old Italian guy. Finally he got it to stay on there and says, "Hey, becausa you pretty lady anda you also pregnant, I treat you," and gives me the cone. I love him!

Except the cone was weak. I mean, the ice cream was tasty enough, but there wasn't much of it and it was el cheapo stuff. So I ate it and kept walking and then passed ANOTHER ice cream place, except this one was a real parlor, so I WENT IN AND GOT ANOTHER CONE. You heard me, I ate two ice cream cones in a row! The second one was blueberry cheesecake flavor and greatly exceeded the first in quantity and quality. It was delicious. I gotta take advantage of this preg thing while I still can, you know.

I think it's cute when ladies ask me when I'm due and then announce, "It's a boy, right?" and when I say "yes," they act like, DAMN, they're good. I love that. They feel so accomplished at having predicted Dean's maleness by observing something in the way my beachball is positioned on me. They are always so proud of themselves, these ladies who are usually older immigrant ladies or older black American ladies. They are cute.

Finally, the one good things about not being able to sleep is that I get to witness Carmen's predawn antics. I love them. Around four in the a.m., Carmen perks up and starts looking around. Her ears go up. She waits. She sits there on the bed looking towards the window. She turns on her ESP radar thing she has. At approximately 4:12 am, she gets extra alert and maybe says, "Boh!" softly. Then at 4:14 a vehicle can be heard at the end of the street, but barely... at this point she runs downstairs to get set up. At 4:15, the vehicle passes our house, slows down or stops, and the newspaper comes through the door slot - this is the moment she's been building to! She barks like hell for about 10 seconds and bites the paper out of the slot. Then she leaves it down there, comes back upstairs, brushes her paws together in self-satisfaction, and goes back to sleep. I love her.

I'm sorry!

Dear Blog,

I realize that I am not giving you the attention that I had hoped to give you. I know you understand that there are things going on in my life right now that are a bit distracting, but I also know that it's not your problem and you shouldn't be made to feel ignored or neglected.

Sometimes we all have to make sacrifices. That's what being a family's all about! For example, Nani is going to have to stop sitting on the counter where the amp used to be, because that's going to be where the changing area is. We are probably going to move her food to some other counter, since my mom thinks it's gross to keep catfood on the kitchen counter anyway (and she's probably right, given where those paws have been. Ew.)

Carmen will also need to make sacrifices. She's going to have to learn how to not step on people's feet all the time, and how to not kick Dean in the head by accident. It's time Carmen got a better understanding of where exactly her body parts are in space, relative to other objects. And she will be asked nicely not to eviscerate Dean's toys, and to refrain from pulling the plastic eyes off of things.

As for you, you just have to sit tight and understand that sometimes new family members come along that demand a little more attention for a period of time than you do. We will get you things to make you feel honored, like a tee-shirt that says, "I'm the Big Sister!" but we require your patience and help, ok? Can you do that? Do you think you can help Mommy and Daddy by being extra good for a while? Perhaps you might consider writing a few entries on your own - I could even check the spelling for you and make helpful comments here and there.

If you can manage to be nice and patient for a whole month, I will take you to Kiddie City and let you pick out any game you want.

Love,
Dubin