- campaign ads
- my boss' prediliction for only using pens that match the outfit she is wearing on any given day. Thus she has 40+ pens.
- light string cheese
- bank fees
- bank fees making me spend $37.25 on an americano.
- boys who hit on me by saying "you've got really, really cute glasses. Where did you get those?"
Sorry, last time I checked, the optical department at Fred Meyers wasn't the hip place to go on a date.
- whole chickens being suddenly ridiculously cheap everywhere.
- my complete inability to resist purchasing said cheap protein.
- my complete inability to successfuly cut up a whole raw chicken without slicing my finger and/or hand.
- my complete inability to find good band aids for such difficult places as the intersection of palm and forefinger.
- salt in the wound.
- Music Man, this guy who many of us, Friend One and Friend Two included, took a seminar with first year, and who is thus named because he was getting a Master's in Music Composition Theory. He came up to me at a bar recently and said, "you were the best poet in that class!" He was nonplussed after I mentioned that I was not a poet, but tried to stay in the game. "Oh, I know," he said. "I still thought your work was the greatest." This was right before he gave me his email address, saying "we should get together and write a libretto sometime."
Oh. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?
- Les...I mean, Fort Awesome, whenever she says something completely full of psycho babble over chat like "you are attracted to men who make you feel inferior," and "I think this may be about your childhood" when I say something like, "I miss Ehud," or "I'm craving butternut squash."
- Friend One who calls me from NYC, drunk and in a cab, and says, "I got a pedicure today. A manicure, I mean. Yeah. The hands."
- Friend Two, who calls me while driving to see Singing Love and leaves me messages like, "I don't think you could easily call a man and a cantelope hybrid a mantelope because that would be confusing. People might think it's a cross between a man and an antelope. I think it would have to be canterman." And then calling back five minutes later, saying, "Why do you spurn me? Why don't you take my calls? Are you screening your calls? I'm just driving here, in the middle of nowhere, and it's dark," then ending with calling out my last name* as though in great pain.
- My own crankiness apparent in this list.
*I love terms of endearment but my last name is one I love beyond all reason and only let a few people call me. Friends One and Two and I routinely call each other by our last names.