I’ve already done this, but the first time I listed my pet peeves for a #30DayChallenge, I focused on the romantic pet peeves. Things such as talking down to me and, since I’ve now learned the term for it, ghosting. I can’t stand that! I really find it rude not to respond to a text. If I take the time to send you a message, it literally takes less than 30 seconds to send a simple “Ok” or “Busy” response.
And intentionally ghosting…. Don’t get me started on how cowardly that is!
Before I get lost in a tangent, let me get to today’s post. After all, there’s no need to rehash all that negativity.
In the few weeks (it may even only be 2 weeks, God help me!) since I’ve been home, I’ve learned there are quite a few things that qualify as pet peeves. Some of them I was mildly aware of before, but since I’ve been home, the irksomeness of them has become noticeable.
A Lack of Volume control
My parents are getting older, and they have 8 indoor dogs (5 dachshunds, 2 mutts, and an Australian shepherd), thus the volume on the TV has to be loud enough that you can hear it throughout the entire house! Between the TV, the dogs, the birds, the air conditioners, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten something, there is never a quiet moment. It is loud. All. The. Time.
And I can’t stand the constant racket. I feel myself becoming a little unhinged. And now, since my summer job is at the place where my mother works her summer job, the manager kindly scheduled us together so we could carpool. Thus, I feel like I rarely get a moment to myself. And when I do, I find myself using those moments to sleep, because I’ve developed a rather unpleasant case of insomnia in the last few weeks…partly due to the constant LOUDNESS!
So my first pet peeve would be, as I said, a lack of volume control.
People that yell for no reason, or the need to have the TV up so loud that you have to yell at the person next to you, that sort of thing. I even noticed that I don’t much care of the club scene because I can’t talk to people in a club without yelling, and I don’t like to yell. Maybe I have sensitive ears, or something, but the loudness is leading to headaches, and that leads to a very grumpy Liz.
Purposely misspelling words.
Because of the brevity required to properly Tweet or text, people have shortened words that don’t always need shortening and come up with what they think are new words all the time. Words like “cray” and “bae” and “totes.”
In the first two instances, you’ve simply removed one, single letter. And, more importantly, all three of those are actually words. Crayfish, anyone? And a “tote” is a bag with large-ish handles. Or it can be used as a verb, meaning “to lug or carry.”
So… when you say “she totes cray cray,” my brain is confused as to why whatever female you are referring to is lugging around large quantities of small shellfish.
And “bae?” It means poop. You literally called your partner crap, shit, excrement, fecal matter, boo boo, whatever.
Stop butchering the language just for brevity’s sake. And if you do it out of necessity in text, that’s one thing, but why would you actually use those words in every day speech?!
Being an Extremist
I’m running the risk of being a hypocrite with this one, but I’ll take my chances. I get really frustrated when people get overly self-righteous about certain issues… generally the ones that were once a good idea, and the self-righteous attitude was necessary, but now we need to try a different approach.
Feminism is the one that comes first to mind. I can’t stand it when I read about feminism gone totally awry. Like that guy who didn’t think about the shirt he wore to an interview, and it had sexy, scantily clad women on it, and the feminists were in an uproar about how demeaning it was. If memory serves, the feminists got him fired. At the very least, I remember him publicly apologizing for wearing a shirt given to him by a female friend of his.
My best friend explained to me that it was part of the third wave feminist movement. As best I can tell, “third wave feminism” says that women should get to define exactly how feminism works…which really means, they are misusing feminism as a way to promote misandry.
They are also the ones who are trying to promote the views that women are equally as sexual beings as men are, and therefor shouldn’t be viewed differently. The idea being that a man who sleeps around is sort of praised in our culture, while a woman who does the same is considered a slut or a whore. The third wave feminists are trying to fix that by embracing the word slut like it’s a good thing…
Destroying the double standard is great! But doing so in a way that basically says, “hey, it’s okay, let’s all be sluts and whores, men and women alike,” I’m not sure I’m cool with that.
I feel the same way when people start talking about race.
Because I’m racially ambiguous, people from all sorts of ethnic backgrounds seem to think it’s okay to tell me how their people suffered the most, and how racism is what oppresses them, still even to this day. In a lot of cases, their points are valid, but the honorable, valid points are almost always sidled with their own racist comments.
Like a friend of a friend made a comment one time while we were giving her a ride to work, and then ended up staying there with her, that she was glad that she wasn’t going to be stuck listening to “white people conversations.”
Had someone said the exact same comment, but swapped the word “white” for “black,” it would have been a social faux pas so egregious that there might very well be throwing of things and name calling and the end of friendships.
But, because she feels that the white people still oppress her people, a racist comment is okay… And my racially ambiguous self has to sit there and not say a word because saying something may make me look like a racist when I am anything but.
Similarly, while watching a show at the Boy’s house one time, he was commenting about a female character on the show, but couldn’t remember her name, so I asked if he was referring to the blonde or the “other one.” He acted offended and then just kept on going. I legitimately didn’t know what the actress’s ethnicity was, and as I know how irksome being mislabeled can be, I try not to do it to others.
I suppose I could have said “blonde or brunette,” but I honestly didn’t think about it. I could have also asked “the one with long hair, or with short hair?” But, for some reason, “the blonde, or the other one?” made sense to me, and didn’t seem that inappropriate.
Yet the Boy made me feel like I’d committed a hate crime.
And here’s where I think I might come across as a hypocrite: those of you who feel I over-reacted to Mr. West Coast will read all of this and say I’m guilty of what I was just complaining about. I can hear the argument now.
The difference is that I tried to have a discussion with him. I tried to point out the things I thought he said were out of line to see if perhaps there had been a misunderstanding. Perhaps I didn’t handle it in the best way, but I tried. On multiple occasions I tried. I would wait days to respond to give myself time to cool down and reread what he’d said to see if it still seemed out of place. I asked for the opinions of others to make sure I wasn’t over-reacting. And once I was satisfied that it wasn’t just my misconception, I would write my response.
The reason why it got so big, big enough for me to dedicate more than one post to it, was because he wouldn’t even acknowledge what I’d said. He would tell me it was funny, that I’d made him laugh, and that he took some of it seriously, but mostly it just made him laugh.
He would tell me not to get riled up, but he would not acknowledge what I actually said. He was making judgments about me left and right, and kept telling me to accept the truth, but couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge that I had a different opinion.
The last message he wrote, he basically told me that I was stepping outside of my role as a woman by trying to force him to admit he was wrong, instead of letting him come to that conclusion on his own. And because of that attitude, I was destined to be alone forever. That twisting of words to hint at how he might be my only salvation from a life of loneliness set off huge warning bells. Or rather, that attitude confirmed my earlier suspicions about his character.
I wasn’t in his face because I was trying to be an uber feminist. I was in his face because he was on the verge of being emotionally abusive, on top of being a bigot. I deal with bigots regularly, but because he had suggested that we could speak freely with one another and really get to the heart of some issues, when he showed an outdated, sexist attitude, compounded by inappropriate behaviors, I couldn’t help but try to help him see the error of his ways. He consistently came back with emotionally abusive comments trying to convince me that he was right, and that he was happy, and if I’d just shut up and listen to his way of doing things, I could be happy, too, instead of the sad, pathetic, loser that I presented… he even went so far to tell me I was whining like an old lady because I didn’t just agree with him.
Ugh! I said I wasn’t going to rehash negativity! I also said I wasn’t going to discuss my old pet peeves list, but his actions certainly hit on one of them: I really hate being talked down to like I’m an idiot just because I’m a woman!
And I don’t think that’s the same as being racist to combat racism, or being sexist to combat sexism. That’s just me expressing my dislike for being mistreated!
I also hate it when people treat me like I’m uneducated because my skin is darker than theirs. The woman thing happens more often, though, so I notice it more. I just hate prejudice, in all it’s shapes, sizes, genders, and colors.