Like Nails on a Chalkboard

I love stuff. But then, other stuff just makes me mad. Here is said stuff.

The radio. How is it not obsolete yet?
I’m not sure why, but the radio annoys me quite a bit. I’m pretty sure there’s no station in Calgary that can play more than two songs in a row that I actually like. But the music I can deal with. The talking is the main thing. Irritating commercials completely aside, in between the music you may or may not like, there’s that mindless chatter. That stupid banter. It’s funny sometimes, but mainly… no. I still remember the last time I listened to an English radio station by my own free will. It was January of last year. Shine FM. 6:10 am, my clock radio turned on. Two morning show hosts, a guy and a girl. The guy mentioned 24, which jolted me awake a little, because 24 does that to me. I knew it was starting in exactly two weeks. Then the girl says, “Oh, 24, I love that show! I’m completely addicted! Has it started up yet?” This is no word of a lie friends, I sat up in bed and glared at the radio. Woman, if you’re completely addicted to a show, you don’t have to ask if it’s started. You’re either not ‘completely addicted’ or you don’t know what ‘completely addicted’ means. Let’s make a metaphor. Say we have someone who is addicted to cocaine. You tell them there’s going to be a ‘Freeeee crack giveaway!’ three weeks from now. They’re not going to come up to you in four days and ask you, ‘Hey, did that giveaway happen yet’? No, man, they know when it’s going down, because they’ll remember if they’re addicted! Okay… calming down… Anyways, on that day I realized that there was no possible topic that I’d want to hear discussed glibly by radio DJs at 6:10 in the morning, so I switched it to a French station (Radio-Canada’s Espace Musique) where, now, I am often nudged awake by either Haydn or Bach, or a deep & sensual French male voice which I have no interest in translating that early in the morning.

Bomb the Blogosphere!
I hate the word ‘Blog’. I think it’s so stupid and it sucks that I use it several times a day. For a long time I used the word ‘journal’ as a substitute, but as Blog got more popular, people started mistaking ‘journal’ for ‘diary’, as in written with a pen in a spiral bound book. So I conformed, but I’m not happy about it!

Spitters. They’ve disgusted me since Diablo I.
Ok, all nerdiness aside, I’m actually not talking about the acid-spitters from my first beloved Blizzard RPG. I’m talking about the people who spit on the ground. It’s so annoying. People seem to love to do it on the train platform especially. I remember one time in particular when I was sitting on a train which was stopped at a platform, and there was a guy outside who spat about four times while I was there. I made a point of staring at him with the most beautifully blank expression for a second before slowly raising one eyebrow, intending to convey, ‘Seriously? Four times?’. He did look a bit sheepish after that, so maybe he got the message.

In short: fidgeting.
I know it’s a compulsion, but it’s quite distracting. Just sit still, okay?

I fervently dislike avoiding the word ‘hate’ on principle.
Every so often I hear of someone who stoutly refuses to use the word ‘hate’, ever. Maybe it only annoys be because I doubt I could do it. I’m not exactly sure of the reasoning behind it, beyond that maybe the idea is that the word implies a sentiment that they don’t want to be filling themselves with. Which is fair enough. I agree that it’s bad to say you hate someone. I know it’s a strong word. But it’s an expressive word, and I’ll use it if it’s an expression I want to make. (I mean, language does define our world but saying you dislike something when you hate it? That’s a lie, isn’t it?) For me, it relieves pressure to say “I hate fighting against rogues!” or “I hate answering phones at work!”. I think hate is not always bad as long as it’s directed or controlled. Even God hates sin, right?

Religion — carried on a chromosome, perhaps?
Another thing that bugs me is when people claim they’re of a religion based on nothing else than the fact that their parents/grandparents/family are of that religion. I was talking to someone (whom I don’t know very well) around the time of the Awlwyn vote. I said I couldn’t come to this event she invited me to because there was a congregational meeting that I had to go to, since we were voting for a new senior pastor. Immediately she got a bit huffy, stepping back and brushing it off, saying, “Oh I don’t do any of that church stuff,” and shaking her head. I got the distinct impression she didn’t want to talk about religion at all, so I didn’t push it. She then continued with, “So pastors have to be voted in? I thought they were assigned. But they don’t get paid, do they?” She seemed a bit surprised when I said they did, and that this particular vote was a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’, not the climax of some heated political pastor-battle. “Really. What religion are you again?” I said Christian. “Oh yes, me too. Protestant, yeah,” she replied proudly before walking off. Now… call me crazy (and I don’t know, maybe there’s more to the story) but… I was actually annoyed that she strongly asserted that she ‘doesn’t do the church thing’ and yet claimed that ‘she’s a Christian’. I know there’s hypocrisy in the church. I know it’s a big problem and many people who ‘do the church thing’ can still be leading very messed up lives. But just because your grandma is Anglican doesn’t mean you are. If you aren’t following (or at least trying to follow) Christ then you can’t call yourself a Christ-follower. It’s just that simple. My dad was baptized Catholic. Does that make me Catholic? No, considering I’ve only been to one Catholic mass in my life, that would be a pretty absurd thing to claim. Has the fact that my parents raised me as a Baptist influenced my personal choice in religion? Of course it has. But it’s still a decision I made, and now it’s my own faith, not just theirs. Now I’m rambling. I just wish people would be honest with themselves. If you don’t pursue a religion, don’t imply that you do.

Fishing. But not in Harvest Moon, I kind of liked it in Harvest Moon.
No, I’m talking about compliment fishing, or fishing for someone to help you, etc. It makes me mad every time I hear about it. Hypothetically, your friend from out of town phones you and says, ‘I’m coming into town! I could maybe come see you if my HOTEL was closer, or maybe if I could find somewhere else…’ Awkward silence until you offer your place for them to stay at, and then they act all surprised and flattered, resisting weakly before agreeing to stay with you. That truly is hypothetical (most hypothetical situations really aren’t) and you know what I mean. Or when people only give you just enough information about something that you have to ask about it to really know what they’re even talking about, and to them it gives them the right to brag all they want afterwards because, hey, you wanted to know! Bragging also is one of my peeves but that’s probably because I fall easily into jealousy.

Well, there you have it. Those are the main ones, anyway!