She Thinks

I almost bailed on this topic as I was really struggling to come up with any bad habits.

(Cause I’m just such a wonderful person.)

Or…I can’t keep focused long enough to think about any bad stuff about myself.

So I asked Ally.

I left her a voicemail saying that I was having a really hard time and needed her to tell me what bad habits I had.  (I figured they’d just roll off her tongue!)

Apparently, my message must have come off as somewhat needy with a high pitched voice, because she texted me back:

“Just got your message…be sure to add whining to the list.”

So I whine.  But only when I don’t get what I want…when I want it.

And I guess that’s a bad habit.

I also leave the TV on for the dogs when I’m not home.

I don’t really expect them to watch it, but somehow I feel like the noise of human voices coming out of the box on the wall will provide comfort to them in my absence.

But I know it doesn’t.  They could care less.  It just makes me feel better about leaving them.

And I know it’s a really bad habit because it totally wastes energy.

But I don’t stop.  I left it on for them tonight when I went out for dinner …as I was adding it to my list of bad habits.

And I waste water too.

I take really long showers and I leave the water running in the sink when I brush my teeth.

I know it’s wrong and wasteful, but I just let that water run and run and run (and please note… I am very clean).

And finally…

I use an enormous amount of tissues in any given day.

I wad them up in my pants, stuff them in my shirt cuffs (YES…like an 80 year old woman), shove a dozen or so loose tissues into my purse, and stash tons of them in every coat pocket in my closet.

The actual possession of tissues is not by itself a bad habit…no…it’s the mixture of the used and unused pieces that causes me to sift through them all seeking the most unused one…that I’d say is the bad part of the habit.

But I don’t stop.

I’m a waster.  And a mixer.

And now I have a whole new group of pet peeves (about me this time) that I can’t stand.

I should be shot.

I think there’s a difference between “romance” and “romantic.”

To me, “romantic” refers to a moment in time.  An act that somehow conjures up visions of low lighting (candles maybe), roof top dinners (not that I’ve EVER experienced that), flowers (unexpectedly arriving with a loving note) or a presentation of a small, unmarked box with something sparkly inside (along with some low lighting and music in the background perhaps?).

It’s an expression of our love that happens at a specific time and place as in “we went out for a candlelit dinner last night and it was so romantic.”  Or…”he got me flowers every day last week”…”he’s soooo romantic.”

It’s when one person goes out of their way to set up a situation that says…”this is all about you.”  It makes us feel all warm inside with the knowledge that we’ve just been wrapped up tight in someone else’s admiration (adoration/love/wanting) of us…combining surprise, attention to detail and even ambience.

It’s romantic.

Now romance is a different thing for me all together.

It’s a process.  It happens over time.

It’s the act of being in love.    Like a constant state of being wooed, and wooing the other person, even after each has gotten comfortable with the other.

It’s about maintaining the flirt.

The blush.

The giggle.

The anticipation.

As I think back on it…I believe my parents lived a life of romance.  They believed in being in love.  Never taking each other for granted.  Keeping it fresh and alive.  Always flirting.

Don’t get me wrong…they had their ups and downs, their times when daily life overwhelmed them…but they would come out on the other side even more in love and exuding even more romance because (I think) they got through it together.

So I know it can happen.  But it’s not typical.

We usually refer to the beginning of our relationships as the time of our romance.  When we didn’t know each other well enough to take each other for granted…and were still trying to impress each other so that we could spend more time exploring one another.

That’s the exciting time.  It’s fresh.  It’s new.

But once we’ve gone through the hunt and landed our prey, we tend to let it go. (And I mean that in the most romantic way possible.)

But imagine what it would be like if we tried to maintain the romance.

If we kept up the flirt.

If we created situations where we didn’t quite know what to expect (and I’m not talking about going to a bar and pretending you don’t know each other).

If we infused a certain amount of surprise into our relationship…on an ongoing basis.

If we set up romantic moments other than just on Valentine’s Day.

IMAGINE what our long-term relationships would be like.

We might even blush with excitement like it was all fresh and new.  OY.

For me that’s romance.

I have so many…it’s hard to narrow them all down to the biggest….which probably says more about me than about the peeves themselves.

But given this forum, I will certainly try.

In general, my pet peeves ALL have to do with noises.  Not just any noises.  People noises.

You know.  The kinds of sounds that people make that annoy, disturb and grate on your nerves down to your soul.

Like cracking knuckles.

OMG I hate it when people crack their knuckles.  I physically stop and turn and glare when I hear someone make that sound of bone joints being pushed in a downward motion until they involuntarily crack…out loud.

OY…it drives me nuts.

Some members of my family (you know who you are) would probably be much happier if they were “allowed” to crack their poor innocent knuckles in my presence, but alas…they know it will never happen.   Because it is the most god awful noise on the planet, and I’m not a nice enough person to “let it go” in favor of letting them indulge in something that drives me so insane.

Because it’s really about me.  Duh.

They’ve tried to tell me that they crack their knuckles “unconsciously.”  Like the urge to move the little bones in their hands until they snap, crackle and pop comes over them in some uncontrollable way.

I don’t think so.

If I want to let loose with an ear screeching squeal (like a panicked dolphin call)…of which I’ve been known to do in the presence of “unconscious” knuckle cracking…I do so with absolute intent.  There’s nothing unconscious about it.

So a word to the wise…when you’re near me, don’t crack your knuckles or I might start squealing at the top of my lungs.

Pet peeve #2…Cracking Gum (notice a pattern here).

Who really likes to be around someone who’s cracking their gum?

I mean really.  No one can crack their gum quietly or with grace.  No…it takes a good amount of jaw thrashing to move their gum strategically to the back of their jaws, while forcing an air bubble into the stretchy fibers, and then biting down at just the right moment to achieve the perfect crack.

It’s a disgusting habit that takes years to perfect…and I have to admit it…I’d like to kill anyone whose worked that hard to perfect it.

Really.

I actually almost lost a job once because I leapt over my desk at a co-worker who had been cracking her gum for 4 straight hours.   No warning…just leapt and went for her throat (her mouth actually to rip out the stupid gum) before another co-worker grabbed me and shook me to my senses.

Which brings me to my last biggest peeve.

Sniffing.

Don’t you think that people who sniff should be shot?

There is no reason for it.  We have tissues.  We have sleeves (I know it’s disgusting but it’s better than sniffing!).  So I have absolutely no tolerance for people who sniff.

Unless they’re at a funeral, in which case they get a sniffing pass.

Or they’re really sick with a raging sinus infection and a temperature of over 103 degrees (no less).

Otherwise…there is no excuse for sniffing.

Or cracking your knuckles or your gum.