Animal-Child Confusion

GUEST PEEVE!!  THIS ENTRY IS WRITTEN BY MY THIRTEEN YEAR OLD NEPHEW, MR. K, AND I BELIEVE THAT IT IS QUITE INSIGHTFUL...I SEE A BRIGHT FUTURE OF LIVING A LIFE FULL OF PEEVES.

Today's wonderful pet peeve was inspired by our friend, Paris Hilton. (...Yay?...) What is it, you may ask?  Well, it's animal-child confusion, and no I don't mean the weird feral child from Mad Max 2 The Road Warrior, I mean treating kids like animals and vice versa. 

That doesn't mean that I don't like animals in fact, it's exactly the opposite, I like animals but not in that weird "Oopsy Poopsy, cute wittle puppy I wub you soooo much, yes I do awwww wook at your wittle puppy eyes" way.  I like them just as much as the next guy, but it makes me sick when you treat animals the same way you treat a baby and to be honest it grosses me out just a little (especially when you touch tongues with your dog)

(no this picture is not considered normal behavior
for a pet owner)
Also if you have read this fantastic blog for a while (which I highly recommend if you haven't) you may have read the one about child leashes, which are the opposite end of the spectrum... if you read that you'll know what I'm talking about.  Another child animal confusion that amazes and disturbs me is if you go to a dog park and listen to the oopsie poppies talk for a while and then go to walmart and listen to the same people say "Tommy, I told you GET OUTTA THAT CART!"  It just proves my point... I assume that this whole thing is the work of aliens...

Curves

That's right, CURVES (as in the work-out franchise) is a pet peeve of mine.  Have you ever noticed that they pop up like parasites where ever an unsuspecting mini-mall lies? - in big cities, in the smallest of towns that seem like they couldn't even support such an enterprise...they are everywhere!  Curves weighs in on my peeve-o-meter because I feel like they are operating under a banner of false advertising.  I mean, I have always gotten the impression that we are supposed to believe that a vigilant schedule of Curves would help improve your own curves.  Simplified, Curves = Weight loss.
But just hold the dumbbell a minute, have you  met or encountered anyone that goes to Curves that has any of the following: an ounce of weight less than when they started, a more athletic build, or a rocking body?  I dare you to say you have!
Once I was riding on the airport tram with my husband when I overheard two ladies that had just met come to the realization that they worked out at the same facility.  Looking over, I saw a pleasantly plump middle aged lady and a softish younger women.  They spoke of their dedication and diligence of going to the club four to five times a week.  At this point, I leaned over to my husband and whispered "Curves."  And I'll be damned if I didn't hear one say to the other before exiting that she was hoping to find a Curves in Florida to work out at when she was out of town!
Maybe it's fun.  Maybe there is great camaraderie.  Perhaps one's cardiovascular health is improved at Curves.  But, if all  of my high tech research is correct - don't be fooled by the innocent mini-mall disguise and the big talk of weight loss and fitness, Curves is nothing more than a parasite of empty promises.

Skinny Jeans

When is this fashion trend going to end?  (Actually - funny I should ask, as I have recently read in more than one reputable fashion magazine that the trend is over and you should stop wearing your skinny jeans, but this of course means that we will have at least another five to ten years of those sausage casings parading as pants on the racks in main stream America.)
The peeve of the skinny jean is that only about .015% of the population should be wearing them.  Yet, they have become the mainstay of every retail store from J.Crew to the Gap to Deb.  There are substances on the average female leg (example - body fat) that shouldn't be forced into a two inch width of material.  Have you ever noticed that small pickles are so squeezed into glass jars that they nearly burst from the jar when the lid is removed?  And, yet, the jumbo pickle is actually sold in a liquid-filled plastic sleeve, allowing for adequate wiggle room to support its comfort level?  That large pickle represents the thighs of American women.  Allow your legs the same respect as the jumbo pickle, ladies.   
Just the other day I was behind a women on a sidewalk and I actually had to look away.  She was wearing the advanced type of skinny jean that is in fact a stretch pant with all of the jean accouterments painted on.  I felt as if I was invading her privacy just by walking down the same sidewalk.  No stranger should be privy to every nuance of your cellulite, every indentation of your gluteus maximus.
I know that the skinny pant is hard to avoid.  I have a pair of corduroys myself that are breathing down the neck of the skinny look.  But when you try on a set of these toothpick casings, really look at yourself.  If there was more material used to make your underwear than the pants, put them back on the shelf.  I believe that by closing the door on the skinny jean, you are opening the window for the bootleg, the stovepipe, the straight leg, the flare, etc, etc. 
Yikes - I forgot to even touch on the subject of skinny pants for men.  No words needed.  Please see below.

If that Hat fits, it doesn't mean you should wear it

This pet peeve is about hats.  Specifically, the hats that don't fall into any particular, utilitarian category other than "fashion."  Not a baseball cap, cowboy hat, certainly not a hat to keep you warm, but rather those hats that say only "Look at me in jaunty cap.  Aren't I sassy?" 
This look is, in fact, usually a descendant of a formerly functioning piece of head wear.  There is the military-inspired hat that has a certain "Reporting for Duty"-circa World War II look.  And there is also the "Gov'ner, care for today's paper for a quid?" look of the remastered newsboy cap.  The problem with these hats, perhaps better called 'looks' or 'fashion statements', is that I feel a need to put them on the stage of a small town summer production of a bad musical.  They require a costume from the neck-down, not just the neck-up.
Also, these types of jaunty caps are never put on by accident.  Never to cover up an unbrushed head of hair - no matter how much the wearer would like you to think that they just casually threw this old thing on.  No, they are quintessentially an intentional trip down the runway of life.  In fact, - and this could be it's own pet peeve, as it applies to all types of hats - the hair is often quaffed and styled around the cap itself.  That's right, I am suggesting that first the hat is placed on top of the head and then actually followed by styling tools and products to form the hair into the perfect companion to the chapeau.  If that doesn't ring your peeve bell, I don't know what does!  Oh, wait, perhaps it is when women actually bobby-pin a hat into place, allowing for the full strandular glory of their hair to be the star, with the hat working as a perfectly set stage.  Unless it is a tiara (and don't think that it is okay to wear tiaras unless it is under VERY specific circumstances) bobby pins should never be employed when putting on a lid.
So - just to reCAP (ha, ha)...Hats should not require you to be eating military rations or to don a cockney accent.  And, unless you are going as Private Benjamen for Halloween or starring as one of the extras in a production of Oliver Twist, your hat should have some semblance of purpose other than an attempt to be a fashionista.

Air Heads

ANOTHER GUEST PEEVE!  THIS ONE IS ELOQUENTLY WRITTEN BY MY SISTER, ELIZABETH, AND CONTINUES THE THEME OF CELL PHONE MISUSE.  READ IT!

This guest peeve could fall under the Cell Outs heading, but really implies a deeper problem than inappropriate cell phone etiquette.  This is the passenger who responds immediately to "Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Chicago, where the local time is 6:20PM.  If you can reach your cell phone without leaving your seat, you are welcome to use it at this time......"  You know the guy.  He immediately picks up his phone and dials.  He announces that he "just landed" (duh), that he isn't at the gate yet (duh), that he will have to get his bag (duh), and often that he will call again (because at this point, there really isn't any information that the recipient can't live without).  You can always tell that said caller is met with the equivalent of an empty stare. 

This call has no purpose.  Not only can you look up flight information (and this guy probably called when he left, too), but even if the flight is delayed, you can track the flight online.  At any given moment you can see that this plane left the gate 17 minutes late, is traveling over Iowa, and is expected to arrive eight minutes late at gate C38.  Bags can be claimed at carousel #12.  Inevitably, this guy hangs up with a bit of a sigh and then pushes ahead of you in the aisle of the plane, only to stand and wait for his bag to arrive (probably while on the phone with his next victim). 

Now, it is probably also safe to assume that this is the same guy that calls the minute his departure has been delayed.  Again, no information to pass on just yet.  You hear him say in anger "my flight's delayed, some mechanical problem, weather, whatever....."  Of course, he is told, if anything, to call back when he knows more.  Which you can bet on.......

Please See March 2nd

My actions on today's pet peeve could be a peeve in and of themselves, but I'm taking the easy way out - if you haven't read it, please look at the guest peeve from yesterday.  Because it technically includes about five peeves, and because I would like to express and agree with all of the sentiments there.

Cell Outs

GUEST PEEVE!  MR. W BRINGS IT WITH THIS WELL-ROUNDED PET PEEVE. 

THANK YOU SIR, AND I COULDN'T AGREE MORE.

Cell phones are awesome.  Seriously, not only can you talk to people wherever you are whenever you want to, you can also check your email, surf the web, take pictures, text, etc…..

Unfortunately, unlike driving a car, no license is needed to operate a cell phone.  However, for the cell phone abusers, maybe one should be required.  I’m not even going to get into the people who talk on their phone at the movies, weddings, funerals, plays, or the ones who think it’s a good idea to text while driving.  Even if these offenders had a license, it should be permanently revoked…..they are too far gone.

Go away.

The real pet peeves are perhaps a little more subtle, but just as annoying.  Unlike those listed above, the abusers we’ll talk about now have a chance to get better with a little help from their friends.   So without further ado let’s examine a few peeves. 

Toilet talk

Need I say more?  Probably not, but I will anyway.  This is about the guy who is doing his business in a public bathroom while conducting business (?) on his phone.  I’m talking about the guy dropping bombs that can be heard down the hall, so they can certainly be heard by the person on the other end of his very significant call.   Hey Mr. Trump, if you were that important you would have a private bathroom to conduct your business.  Drop the phone before you drop the kids off at the pool.

Mr. Trump or Mr. Dump?

Shopper Talk

Okay, you come into a small store with one employee and you are carrying on a conversation while ignoring the person whose job it is to help you.  Couldn’t you finish your call prior to coming into the store?  The answer is, of course you could have.  What is the point of this idle chatter?  Do you think the person in the store cares about your gossip?  Should they stand around and wait for you to get off this extremely important call?  This is pretty simple.  If you’re going into a store, any type of store, get off your phone.  I can assure you that unless you’re P Diddy level, no one cares about your conversation, especially the people working at the store. 

 

P Diddy?  More like P Don’ty.

The Argument

This one confounds me.  The public argument is bad enough, but the public cell phone argument?  Seriously?  You can’t wait until you’re alone to drop f bombs to whomever it is that you’re talking to?  Inappropriate on so many levels.  I don’t care how angry you are, or how important you think this particular argument is.  What I do care about is that your angry, sometimes filthy, nonsensical ranting has invaded my ear-space.  You know when the public cell phone argument is appropriate?  Never.  The End.

Shhhhhhhhh.

The Restaurant Talker

This is similar to the Shopper Talker, but a lot more dangerous.  Here’s the thing about people who work in restaurants….they don’t appreciate rudeness on any level.  Take it from me; I worked in all kinds of them for years.  Be polite to your waiter, it is in your best interest.  Talking on your cell phone when the waiter is trying to take your order is not advisable.  Trust me on this one.  In fact, other than being a bad tipper this is one of the worst offenses you can commit in a restaurant.  Again, if you’re important enough to be taking this call while at a restaurant, you would probably have an assistant ordering for you.  If that is the case, talk away.  Otherwise, get off the phone and listen to the special of the day so you don’t get the other special of the day you probably wouldn’t be too keen on.

You look happy….I wonder what’s in your salad.

Last but certainly not least, this one needs no explanation.

The Bluetooth

Do you wear your sunglasses at night?

Demonizing Barbie

Why do people have to hate on Barbie?  All she ever wanted to do was have fun (Malibu Barbie), excel at her career (Registered Nurse Barbie), keep fit (Great Shape Barbie), travel the world (Cinco De Mayo Barbie), and just look Fabulous (Pink and Pretty Barbie - along with many others to be sure).
Yes, she has made a few missteps in her illustrious lifetime.  Maybe her proportions should exist in the realm of non-fiction, rather than as a hybrid cross of a sand wasp, Stretch Armstrong, and a watermelon patch.  But it stills peeves me that Barbie should be the scape-doll for so many problems.  Is that smiling plastic face really causing self confidence problems in American girls?  Are those petite feet really walking their way to the creation of eating disorders, early sexual activity, and another myriad of female issues?
The idea of evil Barbie is a personal peeve, because I spent so many years loving her so dearly.  I never thought she was real.  Never expected to look like her.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  I created, along with my favorite co-conspirator (the Ms. V), a world for Barbie filled with so much intrigue, triumph, heartbreak, devastation, and excitement that no living human could have ever been expected to survive it.  This on-going, live soap opera continued for years.  New Barbies came in, an old Barbie was demoted to a lesser role, a better looking Ken took up residence in the corvette, the dream house was remodeled.  I imagine that the whirlwind lifestyle of these Barbies continues.  (And likely would have continued even further into our childhood if the fifth grade "cool" guy hadn't sauntered into Ms. V's basement while we guiltily clutched our Barbies which should have likely been respectfully set aside in the third grade.)  They were just so hard to let go!  
If you have hardened your heart to Barbie and her cause, please see the photo of Peaches and Cream Barbie below.  (One of the greatest ever made.)  And see if that doesn't soften you up a bit.

   

People treating me like I'm stupid

I think the title of this peeve says it all.  In fact, I'm not sure if I can go much deeper than that, but I will put in my greatest effort to try to describe in detail what I mean.
Let me start by saying - I am no genius.  But, I would like to immediately counter that with - I am no idiot, either.  My grandma used to say, "You can call me ugly.  You can call me stupid.  But, just don't call me late to dinner."  I concur, but I would like to alter this bit of wisdom to say, "Don't call me stupid."  Or, at least don't treat me like I'm stupid.
You know you're being treated like a jerk when someone begins to speak in a condescending tone (this can be done just as easily in an e-mail or other form of communication.)  Alerts that it is happening:  meticulous, slow talking to the point of the ridiculous, tilting of the head in one direction, putting a question mark at the end of every sentence.
I used to work with a girl who always smelled a little like cheese, had a suspiciously invisible "fiance", and claimed to never pass gas unless she was seated on a toilet (something about particulates - but trust me, she didn't look that particular).  Anyway, because she was on the job before my arrival, she liked to drop knowledge that you may have picked up in the womb and quickly follow it up with a question of concern about whether you could have possibly understood.  Oh, I understood.  And I wonder if she ever understood that I wanted to crush her like a boiled egg.   

Unsuitable Alcoholic Beverages

Have you ever been to a fast-food-ish restaurant chain like Chipotle or Noodles, saw the display cooler of alcoholic beverages behind the counter, and wondered to yourself, "Who in the heck gets a glass of Merlot to accompany their five dollar bowl of noodles, ordered at the counter and eaten in a McDonald's-esque atmosphere?"  (Unfortunately, this question was actually answered for me once by my husband, who boldly ordered a beer at Noodles...but that's a story for another time.)
The peeve here is that the beverage is misplaced, it is an alien in a world that should be inhabited by sodas and ice teas.  The parallel peeve of the unsuitable alcoholic beverage is the drink that has landed in a restaurant of the wrong continent.  No one should be allowed to order a strawberry daiquiri at an Italian pizza joint.  Keep it to the swim-up bar at the pool, people.  Or margaritas at a rustic ski lodge.  No!  Pina Coladas and hamburgers; Mulled wine and cucumber tea sandwiches; Sake and croissants...You get the idea.
You can take the drink out of the bar, but you can't (or you shouldn't) put it in a fast food joint or in a world where it has no visa and no passport.