– My GPS. Specifically, when my GPS tells me to make a slight left when the turn is at an obvious 90 degree angle. This inevitably results in me yelling at the GPS lady in my phone “THAT IS NOT A SLIGHT LEFT, HERMIONE! THAT IS A HARD LEFT. THAT IS DEFINITELY A HARD LEFT.”
(Yes, my phone is named Hermione. I don’t have an iPhone so I got to choose my own name and I think we can all agree that Hermione is way cooler than Siri.)
– Our local 90’s radio station. Listen, I love the 90’s. And my musical genre of choice is basically 90’s pop, 90’s country, 90’s hiphop, 90’s R&B, 90’s alternative, and early 2000 Britney Spears. My 90’s playlists are perfection, carefully curated with a wide range of artists and copied onto CDs so that I can enjoy them in my car that does not have an aux port or bluetooth. Because it is from the 90’s.
And yet my local 90’s radio station insists on playing nothing but a compilation comprised of Chumbawumba, The Spice Girls, and Alanis Morisette’s Ironic. Who is even in charge of this? How did they get this gig? Did they even live in the 90’s? YOU DON’T KNOW MY LIFE.
When we were in Ireland our tour guide pointed out Dolores O’Riordan’s summer home and said “I don’t know if that even means anything to you.” And then J sucked in his breath just as I was all “DOESN’T MEAN ANYTHING TO ME? DO YOU KNOW WHAT MY FAVORITE BAND OF BASICALLY ALL TIME FOREVER IS? THE CRANBERRIES, THAT’S WHO. PLEASE LET ME GO KNOCK ON HER DOOR RAT NAO!”
Do you know what band my 90’s station rarely plays? THE CRANBERRIES. How can you play Tubthumpin’ over Zombie? How? Who gave you the credentials to run the soundboard? This shall not stand.
– Our garbage disposal. Our garbage disposal broke this weekend and by broke I mean “Began spewing water over everything underneath my cabinets.” And so I watched a lot of videos on youtube about how to fix a garbage disposal as J began to dismantle it. This is the first difference between men and women. I was all “Maybe we could look at some instructions first” and J was all “GARBAGE DISPOSAL OUT!” Once he had gotten it half apart we discovered that what we really needed was to just replace the entire unit because it was beyond repair. Only then it wouldn’t go back together quite as tightly because we didn’t have some sort of special clampy thing. That is the technical term for it.
Later, when J went to turn on the dishwasher I was all “NO! DON’T DO IT! WE UNHOOKED THAT HOSE!” Because, you know, the dishwasher hooks up to the garbage disposal. Or maybe you didn’t know that either but I watched a lot of youtube videos about garbage disposals so now I’m an expert, basically. And this is the second difference between men and women, how J said “Well, let’s just try it and see what happens.” And I was all “Sure, except what is going to happen is that water is going to shoot out of the wall.”
I’ll let you guess what happened.
So now I have to wash all the dishes by hand in just one side of the sink until the new garbage disposal gets here and so it is definitely not on my good list.
– Bugs. Something keeps eating my rosebushes. They are full of holes. I do not know what kind of bug is doing this but when I figure it out they will rue the day they messed with the roses that I have been nurturing for the past five years. RUE THE DAY.
So you know, things are just totally chill around here and I’m not at all the girl who is standing in the front yard ranting incoherently at her rosebushes while the neighbors look on in morbid fascination like this
