Random Thoughts: Things I Hate (and One Thing I Love)

I am not writing this post because I am in a bad mood, or because I am trying to call anyone out on anything.  It really stems from the guy who lives in the apartment below me and was playing his guitar out on his balcony late into the night, apparently unaware that he has no business playing a guitar or singing.  Damn you, wannabe John Mayer!  Damn you to hell!

You may not agree with everything I write, but that’s okay.  I forgive you.  And be sure to sound off below if there’s things that piss you off (and no, you can’t say this blog post pisses you off.  That’s just redundant).

 Things That Piss Me Off:

--You know when you open a bottle of ketchup or mustard and you don’t shake it first and what comes out is that gross watery stuff that soaks into the hamburger bun?  I HATE THAT.

--I hate that I can’t tell yet if the new house I’m moving into is haunted or not.  Part of me wants it to be haunted so I can call Ghost Hunters and make them send Steve Gonsalves out to my house and save me (if you don’t know who that is, google him.  But remember, my tastes are different).  But part of me doesn’t want it to be haunted because I don’t have time to deal with a ghost.

--Deadlines.  I hate deadlines so much.  Work stuff.  Book stuff.  I’m lazy.  I procrastinate.  Don’t give me a fucking deadline.

--Tic Tacs.  Don’t ask.

--When in a M/M book the heroes start telling they love each other by the second date.  Really?  Really?  Unless it’s a supernatural story with some version of the idea of “mates” please don’t have your characters say I love you by the second date.  When I’m on a second date, I’m probably still trying to remember your last name.

--Shopping carts.  I walked into one when a hot guy was checking me out.  Shopping carts are evil and I hate them with every fiber of my being.

--the word “lave”.  I don’t want to “lave” anything.  Not balls, not a Jolly Rancher.  Stop using that word.

--Excessively negative people (natch).

--People who are always rude.  Get over yourself and fall into a volcano.

--The use of the word “babe or baby” in an affectionate way in m/m books.  Not that I’m against it as a whole, but when characters start calling each other that and then that’s ALL they call each other?  In EVERY OTHER SENTENCE?  Stop it.  Just please, stop it.  (oh, and this also applies to the word “cutie.”  Please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t use that word more than once and only if you are being facetious.  I’d even take “baby” over “cutie” any day.

--How much dialogue there seems to be between two main characters in sex scenes these days.  Do people really talk that much during sex?  I know that it’s romance and maybe people want to hear it, but I know when I have sex, I don’t say things like “I want to feel you come apart around me,” or “I am going to make you mine,” or “Your penis is gargantuan.”  Really?  I know that if it’s good, I’m lucky if I am able to think coherently, much less actually have conversation. 

--How, now that I have my house, I’m starting to notice things I don’t like about it.  Where were these things when I was looking at it like 8 different times? 

--Books that have sad, but realistic endings.  Apparently, I have the emotional maturity of a teenage girl.  I have an ugly cry face.  I look like a Wookie.

--The song “Iris” by the Goo-Goo Dolls.  But only because I can’t stop listening to it.

--That there seems to be almost a snobby divide between what is considered "gay fiction" and what is considered to be "m/m fiction."  I write about gay men.  Therefore, it is m/m and gay fiction. 

--That I want to decorate for Christmas already and it’s only September. 

--That my new book won’t write itself for me.  That would be rad.

--The fact that this is the end. 

Things I love:

--You.