Tuesday, May 01, 2007
(12:03 AM) | The Girl:
Tuesday Hatred: Molto OdioOh, denizens of the Weblog, you can now rest easy! While I certainly appreciate Ben Wolfson’s valiant Tuesday Hatred effort last week, things are now back to normal, with another hot broad picking up where equally hot broad Claire left off. In my typical fashion, I almost forgot about my hating duties, only realizing my commitment 79 minutes prior to this fine first day of May. As such, I will not bore you with (or rather, attempt to compose) a witty exposition; instead, I will launch into what you’re here for: The Hatred.
I hate Mario Batali. Even more, I hate his penchant for the evil that is neon Crocs, and further, I hate when he wears said Crocs with shorts and white socks. Men, take note: This is a bad, bad look that every other woman I know hates, as well.
I hate the varying opinions on interview attire. I hate that I will be interviewing at a corporate, yet creative office, and the ensuing confusion that arises from this combination. Traditional wisdom holds that a young lady ought to wear suiting to an interview, perhaps even taking the extra step, as my mother told me today, of donning pantyhose. (I hate pantyhose.) However, traditional wisdom also suggests that creative fields eschew suits and that you will look staid and stuffy if you show up wearing Ann Taylor when you really ought to be wearing some overpriced ensemble from a Bucktown boutique. I hate how much other people take into account clothing choices, although I suppose that would be the pot calling the kettle black.
I hate when big-ticket items such as cars, shelving systems and computers advertise their “starting from” rate. Specifically, I hate that the iMac I was going to purchase quickly jumped from $1199 to about $1750. I hate that I will thusly be left with my completely inept HP laptop for another several months.
I hate when friends’ boyfriends hit on me or flirt with me in front of their girlfriend. While this doesn’t occur frequently, I am nevertheless surprised and filled with hatred it when it happens. I hate the immediacy with which my girl friend awkwardly (and obviously) ushered me out the door this weekend, suddenly deciding that we should probably avoid having a late lunch and just call it a day after her boyfriend suggested that he go shoe shopping with me.
I hate that none of my friends are in healthy relationships. I hate that no one can offer advice on dating and love, as everyone else is in even more convoluted situations than me.
I hate not having a dishwasher. I hate how dirty I let my kitchen get due to the combination of not having a dishwasher and instead having a shallow, single sink that is inexplicably set diagonally into a corner about four inches from the edge of the counter. Please ponder this set-up, Weblogians. Yes, I can tell you would hate it too.
And, rapidly, I hate:
-the smell of the zoo
-the Bachelor and the naivete of the ladies vying for his affection
-that the Park District does not answer its phone
-not knowing what to buy my mother for Mother’s Day
-how silly I feel posting on the Weblog, as everyone else seems much more intelligent
-96.7% of jeans, and for that matter, pants