1. Foot shufflers. You're too tired to pick up your foot all the way, so you are just gonna shove it along the ground? NO. This is fork on a china plate level irritation for me. I'll have to REPLACE MY KNEES one day (I just have bad knees) and even I can lift my foot a full inch off the ground and ambulate. (Can't help it, it strikes me as lazy/slovenly.) Ick, that slippery high-pitched sheening noise that slippers make on tile makes me want to stab my ears. Wait, not mine, theirs.

2. Negative Nancys. The people that find the potential problem, that see a flaw, that see a problem, that just have to contradict, like it's a freaking ingrained reflex (which it probably is by now.) I have literally posted about how I freaking HATE that kind of banter in my LJ three times THIS YEAR SO FAR. It's March 3. And for the umpeenth time: this is my personal journal that you enjoy with me, not a community journal where we have to share space.

I do not care if you hate something I love. It is douchebaggy to tell me that you hate it when I just said I love it. Period. You may be a wonderful, kind, and loving person IRL. But that kind of commenting makes me see only the douchebaggery and I will call you out on it. UGH. How many times do I have to post about this, good hell! From this point forward I will give a canned response: "What the f*ck is wrong with you?" but I won't omit the letter U, because that's the important part in the equation.

3. People who don't know their boundaries. EXAMPLE. I have just posted a review of, say, National Geographic's Expose on Cave Systems and talk at length about my own experiences spelunking. You then comment with something thusly: "So I'm confused, when you went spelunking you wore a bathing suit, right? I ask because when I put a bathing suit on I immediately get a severe rash on my cha cha, then my boyfriend (who is married to a woman that hates caves, it's so weird) gets the rash on his hoo hoo dilly, and it would help me if you would come over while I sit on a mirror and validate my existence. Also, I think you have a drinking problem."

(omg, I am lol'ing so hard.)

BUT SERIOUSLY. I do not want to know about your sex life, stranger. I especially do not want to know about it on a post about a tv show. Unless we are RL friends, I don't need you coming over here (or to Hey, Don't Judge Me) and filling me in on specific life choices you're making. Unless I ask you for specifics, let's consider that a rule, shall we? What you do in YOUR space is a-ok with me. I just don't want it HERE, that's fair, right? STAY ON TOPIC.

IN COMPLETELY UNRELATED NEWS: I saw an outdoor bathtub (!!) made to look like a giant GEODE. I wish it really was a geode, the crystals all smoothed over inside, instead of the cement-polish look, because then it would be like bathing inside a huge gemstone. It would feel tres glamorous, non? I <3 geodes.

Also, I want patterns for these bathing suits because I want to make my own. <-- I'm insane, we all know this. But cute retro-styled bikinis are either impossible to find, or super expensive. I'm looking at you, Betsey Johnson, with your almost $100 per piece.

Lastly, I wish that the garden blogs that have pretty designs would actually point out what ALL of the plants are, instead of saying one or two, then you're left wondering what the amazing blah blah in the foreground is. You can rest assured that I will note everything. EVERYTHING. I'll even point out the damn nematodes, if you wanted. ;)