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I've been "soul-searching" lately because one of my courses is a really analytical and heavy on psychology of self/self-concept. I'm forced to really be conscious of my own thought process over the last few days and to trace back the source/stimulus that made me think/act the way I do. Not surprisingly, I have a list of items that I can never make sense of no matter how hard I tried. Granted, I do have fears like the fear of death and spiders bigger than my fist, but those are justifiable and follow some sort of logical pattern.
I divided these items into three categories: hatred, irritation, and fears. I left out the goody-happy-go-lucky-rainbow-cakes-and-unicorns-for-everyone feelings because I'm the type of person who'd rather self-destruct from locking those feelings away than be vulnerable. And most likely, you wouldn't want to read a blog about what makes my heart and crotch tingle.
Irrational Hatred
Lampshades
Just fucking hate them. I want to swing a metal bat at everyone of those I see. Surprisingly enough, I'm not charged towards the light producing portion. I just want to rip and burn the cone portion that keeps light from really illuminating the room.
Leather Seating
I'm not faithful to any belief systems that respects cows or even organization that protects animal rights. I don't care if all the cows in the world were killed to produce the world's biggest and most useless leather chair. Scratch that, I would care just because there's a huge fucking leather chair in the world. I just hate leather seating and it doesn't matter if it's furniture or lines the seating of your car, I'll still severely judge who you are as a person for no explicable reason.
This one brand of cologne that is worn by mature Italian men
I actually don't hate cologne in general. I sometimes like it on a guy, but I would never wear it myself because I'm a cheap motherfucker who, at worst, subtlety smells like stale water like asphalt run-off. However there is one brand (the picture isn't representative of the one I hate) that makes my nostrils flare. It's quite odd, but I always smell it around Italian men between the ages of 30 and 40, never before or after that range. And it's not restricted to my town, I've walked past them and can tell VERY quickly they're wearing it, especially at Disneyland.
Irrational Irritation
Potpourri
I lived in a snotty affluent white community where they send their children to soccer, band, AND space camp on the same summer. Almost every time I visit my friends' house, there is always a bowl of dried, decomposing crap on a fireplace mantle or living room table. The smell never bothered me because it's just a more concentrated Glade plug-in, but it always bothered me. I just want to put it in a corner, outside my field of vision, but never had enough angst to smash it against a wall.
Stick Shift
I can drive one although I primarily use an automatic and I don't mind the constant changes in acceleration when riding passenger. If I were given the choice between sitting shotgun with my best friend who drives stick or a fairly close acquaintance who drives automatic, my mind would jump to the latter, but I'll grit my teeth and ride with my best friend.
When people say boobies and titties instead of boobs and tits
Most of time, I don't care what people say as long as they're not prideful, ignorant bigots or class B assholes. But when people say boobies or titties instead of boobs or tits, it bothers me A LOT. I tried reasoning to myself by thinking that only teenagers who have yet to watch porn or have some say it, but even I don't mind those kind of people saying it.
Irrational Fears
Heidi Klum
I've watched enough Project Runway to respect her. In fact, I have a 100% straight crush on her and she is a total MILF. However, I don't know what part of her I'm so afraid of her. She's easy on the eyes, confident/feisty, and has a personality. If I saw her in real life, I wouldn't be intimidated to go up to her and strike a conversation, but I would be fettered by the security guards that may politely escort me away.
"Now, work in pairs"
I've spoken as a President's Cabinet Student Rep in undergrad, hosted workshops at NEACURH/NACURH and Circle K conferences, and most recently, I had to give a grad assistant lecture to Psych I undergrad class which is basically speaking for half the lecture time (~45 minutes) with barely any reading from the Powerpoints to 50ish students. I am confident in myself and public speaking and engaging myself with any group of people. However recently, in one of my own classes, the professor said to pair up and discuss the homework reading and prepare questions/comments to share. I didn't mind the activity itself because I actually do my homework and it's impossible to hide from professors the fact that you haven't prepared yourself thorough, especially in grad school where there are at most 10 people per class in a school that values low student:professor ratios. I was paired with someone I'm chill with but the idea of pairing up sent chills down my spine. I know I can handle any social situation, but the fear lingers. My body has those "neck hairs standing up", "clammy hands", and "chills running down my spine" despite knowing full well I can breeze through it.
And finally:
Getting sliced in half along the transverse plane
Sure, getting cut in any fashion should instigate some fear, but I cannot for the life of me understand why I am so scared of especially being chopped in half along the waist. I thought about being decapitated and even be cut down the middle via chainsaw, but they don't strike as much immense fear in me. I have this crazy instinct of suddenly not feeling my thighs anymore even if my arms are fully extended downward while my lumbar region of my spine slowly separating and I get overly hysteric about it
I divided these items into three categories: hatred, irritation, and fears. I left out the goody-happy-go-lucky-rainbow-cakes-and-unicorns-for-everyone feelings because I'm the type of person who'd rather self-destruct from locking those feelings away than be vulnerable. And most likely, you wouldn't want to read a blog about what makes my heart and crotch tingle.
Irrational Hatred
Lampshades
Just fucking hate them. I want to swing a metal bat at everyone of those I see. Surprisingly enough, I'm not charged towards the light producing portion. I just want to rip and burn the cone portion that keeps light from really illuminating the room.
Leather Seating
I'm not faithful to any belief systems that respects cows or even organization that protects animal rights. I don't care if all the cows in the world were killed to produce the world's biggest and most useless leather chair. Scratch that, I would care just because there's a huge fucking leather chair in the world. I just hate leather seating and it doesn't matter if it's furniture or lines the seating of your car, I'll still severely judge who you are as a person for no explicable reason.
This one brand of cologne that is worn by mature Italian men
I actually don't hate cologne in general. I sometimes like it on a guy, but I would never wear it myself because I'm a cheap motherfucker who, at worst, subtlety smells like stale water like asphalt run-off. However there is one brand (the picture isn't representative of the one I hate) that makes my nostrils flare. It's quite odd, but I always smell it around Italian men between the ages of 30 and 40, never before or after that range. And it's not restricted to my town, I've walked past them and can tell VERY quickly they're wearing it, especially at Disneyland.
Irrational Irritation
Potpourri
I lived in a snotty affluent white community where they send their children to soccer, band, AND space camp on the same summer. Almost every time I visit my friends' house, there is always a bowl of dried, decomposing crap on a fireplace mantle or living room table. The smell never bothered me because it's just a more concentrated Glade plug-in, but it always bothered me. I just want to put it in a corner, outside my field of vision, but never had enough angst to smash it against a wall.
Stick Shift
I can drive one although I primarily use an automatic and I don't mind the constant changes in acceleration when riding passenger. If I were given the choice between sitting shotgun with my best friend who drives stick or a fairly close acquaintance who drives automatic, my mind would jump to the latter, but I'll grit my teeth and ride with my best friend.
When people say boobies and titties instead of boobs and tits
Most of time, I don't care what people say as long as they're not prideful, ignorant bigots or class B assholes. But when people say boobies or titties instead of boobs or tits, it bothers me A LOT. I tried reasoning to myself by thinking that only teenagers who have yet to watch porn or have some say it, but even I don't mind those kind of people saying it.
Irrational Fears
Heidi Klum
I've watched enough Project Runway to respect her. In fact, I have a 100% straight crush on her and she is a total MILF. However, I don't know what part of her I'm so afraid of her. She's easy on the eyes, confident/feisty, and has a personality. If I saw her in real life, I wouldn't be intimidated to go up to her and strike a conversation, but I would be fettered by the security guards that may politely escort me away.
"Now, work in pairs"
I've spoken as a President's Cabinet Student Rep in undergrad, hosted workshops at NEACURH/NACURH and Circle K conferences, and most recently, I had to give a grad assistant lecture to Psych I undergrad class which is basically speaking for half the lecture time (~45 minutes) with barely any reading from the Powerpoints to 50ish students. I am confident in myself and public speaking and engaging myself with any group of people. However recently, in one of my own classes, the professor said to pair up and discuss the homework reading and prepare questions/comments to share. I didn't mind the activity itself because I actually do my homework and it's impossible to hide from professors the fact that you haven't prepared yourself thorough, especially in grad school where there are at most 10 people per class in a school that values low student:professor ratios. I was paired with someone I'm chill with but the idea of pairing up sent chills down my spine. I know I can handle any social situation, but the fear lingers. My body has those "neck hairs standing up", "clammy hands", and "chills running down my spine" despite knowing full well I can breeze through it.
And finally:
Getting sliced in half along the transverse plane
Sure, getting cut in any fashion should instigate some fear, but I cannot for the life of me understand why I am so scared of especially being chopped in half along the waist. I thought about being decapitated and even be cut down the middle via chainsaw, but they don't strike as much immense fear in me. I have this crazy instinct of suddenly not feeling my thighs anymore even if my arms are fully extended downward while my lumbar region of my spine slowly separating and I get overly hysteric about it
