Wednesday, July 20, 2011

10 Things I Hate About You

I keep going back and forth between feeling miserable and sorry for myself to angry. It's better to be angry than sad, right?

Dear cute neighbor,

I hate the way you think you're always right. You may be smart, and have the letters after your name to prove it, but sometimes you. are. wrong. Pennsylvania is a landlocked state. Just because its eastern border is a river that eventually leads to the Bay and the ocean, does not mean it has a coastline. No matter how hard you drunkenly argue that this is the case, you are wrong, you fucking moron.

I hate the way you think not owning a television makes you somehow intellectually superior to others. It doesn't. Especially when you just come over to my house, turn on the tv immediately, and are so completely entranced by it that I cannot get your attention, no matter how many articles of clothing I remove. You're just like every other man on the planet.

I hate the way you can't use a fucking coaster. They're right there, next to the glass you just put down on the coffee table.

I hate the way you reacted when someone didn't know something you felt they should have. Not everyone listens to NPR 24 hours a day. Besides, you're the one who didn't know Punxatawney Phil lives in Pennsylvania.

I hate the way you grabbed my hand when we were about to cross the street and there was a car coming, as if that would somehow save me from a speeding SUV. Actually, I didn't hate that at all, but now I hate that it apparently meant nothing.

I hate the fact that I can't go to our favorite dive bar for a $4 pitcher of beer or watch Swamp People because both things are synonymous with "us."

I hate the way I feel like this is somehow my fault, a deficiency of mine that caused this not to work. I am not the problem here, you are. You are 35 years old, and this relationship officially became your longest ever months ago. So no, it's not me, it's you.

I hate the fact that you have the ability to make me so happy and so, so miserable.

But mostly I hate the way I'm completely torn up about this and you probably haven't given it a second thought.

May you be cursed with impotency and perpetual diarrhea.


1 comment:

Fenella said...

How could he not know that Punxatawney Phil lives in Pennsylvania?!