I feel like writing a little ranty post today. I don’t quite know why. Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s uncertainty regarding the future, and especially October. I was right in agonizing about the demands of September, for not many have been fulfilled, and it’s up to October to sort out the rest. The thing is, I’ve stopped caring. An insignificant little creature, not doing much in the world. It’s time to redirect some of that self-hate outside. Hey, writing is supposed to be cathartic, right? Or, so I’ve been told.
A pet peeve is something that you find annoying, to a much greater degree than the general population. It is being in the precarious position of learning to live with it, but never getting used to it. And never missing a chance to complain about it. So, if your pet peeves have to do with weather changes, good luck to you. I’m fine by the weather personally. Unless it gets too hot, which can be a prolonged crisis living in a tropical country. Of course, the thing with ranting about things you can’t control is, it just makes them even more awful. The worst thing you can do in a tropical country is complain about the weather. You need all that saliva you will save from not shouting to keep you from getting dehydrated. If only our emotions were attuned with our bodily needs. Huh, name one human need that is effectively satisfied with the corresponding human emotion. Or maybe not. Rhetorical sentences can be pet peeves for some people after all. You never know, do you?
Here’s a list of mine, with a short description of why they are so:
1. Headphones. Already dedicated a full post to this. I find them exceedingly isolating. You cannot appreciate music at its best with it. And nothing says, “scoot off” * better than having your headphones on when someone approaches you.
2. Waiting for over 40 minutes. I am a punctual person, and it makes me miserable. I take no pride in being the first to arrive and wait for others. I envy them the extra sleep they get. I hate standing like an idiot, with everyone around watching me, thinking “what a pathetic loser…” I have learned to give my waitees‘ a leniency period of 40 minutes, giving them the benefit of traffic – an excuse I will get anyway, whether it is true or not. 5-15 minutes, and I don’t even count it as waiting. 20-35, a brewing struggle with my patience, my rationality, and the ensuing numbing of my legs. 40, and times up. You’ve crossed the threshold. I don’t care who you are. You have to pay. Welcome to the rant you deserve.
3. Waiting for movies. So, if you want extra sauce with that rant that awaits you, you better be late when we are going to watch a movie. Or any entertainment show, for that matter. I even get enraged if it’s a seminar. And there is no threshold for that either. We should never get to a movie on time, because that is late. We should always be extra, extra early, so that we can choose our seats and our popcorn with the indulgent spirit of a Bacchanalian orgy.
4. Best wishes. No two, independently poetic, words could ever convey coldness and dismissal as much as these two put together. I don’t care if you are the Prime Minister or the most beautiful human being in the world. If that is what you end our conversation with, you just dropped to a bottomless pit from my lists of “I admire” and “I moderately like”. If you wanted to wish the best for me, in the singular or plural, you would just say, “I wish the best for you”. It is more honest, and intimate, without being dangerously close. I almost feel “best wishes” is a Victorian euphemism for “scoot off” *. Could anyone who doesn’t mind using this expression explain why they do so?
5. Manners with no meaning. I am not asking you to feel heavily at every human interaction. But, it isn’t Edwardian England anymore. So, it’s about time we dropped words like“regards” unless we actually use it in a sentence as a verb.
6. Manners with too much meaning. This is where I actually agree with Edwardian England. While it is bad to be cold, it is much, much worse to be extra warm. I don’t want to be suffocated by your sweaty hug when we’ve just met for the first time. I don’t want to feel your salivary kiss on one, or God forbid, both of my cheeks. And I certainly don’t want you to squeeze my dominant right hand, so that it can’t function for the next 6 hours. A smile will do very well, thank you.
7. Ranty people. Yes, yes, I’ve been one for the length of this post. I haven’t had much perspective because I’m blinded by rage. And that is why, I am deeply annoyed by ranty people. Some people find angry people sexy. I do, too. Only on screen, where I am not physically at the other end of it, and there is a context that does not concern me. I would love to ask Malcolm Tucker(from the TV show The Thick of It), perhaps the most poetically angry man ever on screen, to joke-swear at me. But, if we were in an actual context, I might do two things. Rant back, or renounce the world and become a nun. This is why I don’t like angry people. They make me angry.
*scoot off – I am an average swearer, but I try to keep the blog clean. So, “scoot” is my official substitute now for you-know-what.