I am away for a few days at the Canadian Authors Association CanWrite! conference. To give myself some time away to refill my creative well, I pre-scheduled a post with a lighter tone.
Things I don’t like that I’m supposed to like
I like the idea of thick towels. I like looking at thick towels. I even like holding a thick towel as a comfort. But when it comes to drying off after a bath or a swim, thick towels just don’t work as well. I know I’m supposed to like them, but I don’t.
I often decline dessert because I really don’t want it. I prefer salty or savoury foods to sweet. People don’t believe me though. They always say, “Well, aren’t you being good?” or “I wish I had your willpower.” I am not “being good” and it has nothing to do with willpower. I know I’m supposed to want to eat dessert first, but I don’t.
World Cup Soccer
I am a sports fan, and I’ve tried to love World Cup, but I can’t summon even a scintilla of interest in World Cup Soccer. The field is so big, the goal is so big, the back and forth is so constant, the goals so elusive and the officiating so plainly ridiculous. If Canada ever makes it, maybe I’ll try harder, but right now even though I’m supposed to go crazy about World Cup Soccer, I don’t.
Is there an activity more soul-sapping and patience-testing than shopping? Not for me. I feel my brain atrophy second by second as I stroll through the racks. The energy seeps from my body through the soles of my shoes and dissipates into the ether until I drag myself out of the mall. I know it’s supposed to be some feminine genetic trait to crave shopping, but I don’t.
I don’t require a soundtrack for every activity in my life. I like the sounds of reality, thank you. When I walk I think many interesting and amazing thoughts; my thoughts are darned entertaining. And when I meet people on the street, I hear when they speak to me because I don’t have buds in my ear. I respect other people’s desire to use them, and I know I’m supposed to want one, but I don’t.
My idea of a pleasant boat ride: The craft glides into the water with barely a ripple and calmly meanders along the shore line. I enjoy the view of the homes or cottages, I say “Hello, ducks!” to the waterfowl bobbing gently on the waves beside us, and I reach a hand over the side to touch the delicate white flower of a water lily.
What usually happens: The boat accelerates at such a rate that the back of the boat sinks and the nose juts straight up into the air. I clutch my hat before it flies away out of the back of the boat. I hang on to the side for dear life. The scenery passes in a blur as the boat whooomp, whooomp, whooomps its way across the waves. Ducks squawk and flap away in fright. We never get anywhere near a water lily.
I know I’m supposed to be excited when people say “Let’s go for a boat ride!” but I’m not.
Coach bags, or any designer handbag that costs way too much money for no good reason
Seriously? $500 for a handbag? No. No. No.
This is a big disappointment to my husband, the car freak. Who doesn’t like convertibles, right? I don’t. Why you would want to ride anywhere in a vehicle with the thundering roar of wind and whipping strands of hair pelting the face? Convertibles are too cold on cold days and too hot on hot days. I know I am supposed to want to let my hair down in convertible style, but I don’t.
That’s my list (so far). How about you? What things do other people rave about but leave you cold?