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I once was visiting my sister at college, and she had a list up on the wall of her likes and dislikes.  It wasn’t lame as in, ” long walks on the beach,” “the smell of clean cotton,” or “sharing a movie with a good friend”.  The list held honest little truths that any one reading it would be able to actually get to know my sister by reading.  Inspired, I tried my own list, but I’d forget to update it, and the entry in my journal I started for that purpose is dated 7/8/09.  Here’s what I wrote:

Things I like:

  • living in a place that has fireflies
  • the smell of linen closets

Things I Don’t Like:

  • When stores do not follow their posted hours, and are closed when their signs say they are open.  Ditto for stores that just leave up the OPEN sign or don’t post hours so you don’t know when to come back.
  • When you stake out a private spot at the beach or a lawn concert or the fireworks only to have a large family, preferably smokers, with many small children sit practically on top of you.
  • Group projects.
  • Meetings that go on for an hour to discuss a 5 minute item.

I think I’ll take the time now to expand the Don’t Like list, since it’s decidedly less lame, and I can rant for hours, while being positive and meaningful is very draining.

MORE things I don’t like:

  • Having such a sensitive nose.  I can detect dog shit if it’s anywhere in the house.  With our new “puppy”, this has become all too frequent.  I’ll start sniffing, Mr. Apron will deny it, and I’ll go on a paranoid hunt for the mythic dog shit.  Or I’ll be the only one offended by someone’s liberal application of Brut, KMart’s finest fragrance, or B.O., or cigarette smoke.  And then I get migraines, and then no one’s happy.
  • The tire pressure idiot light on my dashboard.  The number of false positives that stupid light reads is infuriating.  I pulled over tonight, convinced my car was listing to the left, sure I had a flat on the left, certain I was going to have to change my tire at 9:30 at night wearing a skirt.  Nope.  False alarm.  Like every other time it came on, except once.  And that once keeps me checking.
  • Having the windows down in Mr. Apron’s car when my hair is not pulled back.  Something to do with the wind resistance, cabin-forward design, positioning of the A-pillar.  I don’t know, but that car’s open window blows my hair in my face like no other, including his former car, a 2001 New Beetle tarted up like Herbie the Love Bug, in which the front seat occupants sat practically in the middle of the car, and the only convertible I’ve spent ample time in, a 1973 MGB.  His current car, a 2002 Volvo S40 takes the cake.  I keep a bandana in it for such purposes, only it looks less Elizabeth Taylor, more Golde from Fiddler on the Roof. 
  • Running out of bobbin thread on my sewing machine 2 inches from the end.  Also, realizing I’ve been sewing 80% of my work without a bobbin thread and will have to do it all over again.
  • Rules for rules’ sake, not for common sense.  You see this in stores/corporate places where all the employees can do is recite The Rules, and aren’t allowed to have an independence, sensical thought.  For example, at work, the impending edict is that footwear needs to have closed backs.  The reasoning behind this was not explained.  We surmise it is so we can ostensibly run after children without losing footwear in the pursuit.  But how much more effective are flimsy skimmers than a well-fitted (open-back) sandal at running after eloping children?  We tell the kids to wear sneakers so they can run and climb and play.  We don’t have to wear sneakers, so it’s not an example we’re supposed to be setting.  And why don’t they care about our toes?  I care about my toes.  I’m considering looping a piece of elastic on my flip-flops so they meet the requirement, just to flaunt my disrespect for the rules. Cause that’s how I roll.
  • Having to eat and pee.  Mind you, I don’t mind the processes themselves, rather the inconvenience of always having to plan for those eventualities.  Road tripping?  You’ll have to stop for both.  Day-trips?  You’ll have to think about both.  Bring your own food, store it, keep it cool/hot, or suffer the consequences of overpriced captive audience food, also known as the $9 hot dog at the ball park.  Doing an all-day craft fair?  Find someone to babysit the booth, and then suffer the port-o-let’s cruel wrath.  I like eating, I like food, just not having stop what I’m doing to take care of those needs.
  • Experiencing bad parenting in public.  Occasionally, I’ll hear something that will make my heart sing.  At the same craft fair where I had to be next in line at a Potty Queen after a little boy had spent a loooong time in there, I saw a little girl in a stroller bend over the edge, point excitedly at a leaf, and say, “Look! A heart!” and the Daddy stopped picked it up, and reinforced her discovery, even showing it to me.  This happens 1% of the time.  The other 99%, I hear, “Put it down!”  “No, it’s a leaf!” “Don’t touch that; it’s nasty!” “Why are you doing that!?” and other supportive phrases.  I see clueless parents prolonging tantrums by continually engaging kids with unending threats they’ll never carry out.  “Okay, the next time you do that, we’re really leaving.  I mean it this time.  You do that again, you’re not getting a toy.  That’s it.  We’re leaving.”  But they never do.  It ruins my shopping experience, and my heart aches for the kids. 

Mr. Apron has informed me, via reading over my shoulder, that the post is getting “very long”, so he suggests I leave it to be continued for another time.  I really could go on and on, and on, but that might be something you don’t like.

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