New Year's Resolutions

Does this come as a surprise to anyone?

Every year, we put together a list of ways in which we intend to improve ourselves over the next year. That's fine, but, by making it a formal resolution, we are setting ourselves up for failure.

"This year, I resolve to ... "

Guess what? Most of us break these resolutions. By the numbers (if you poke around a bit), you'll find that 75% of us manage a whole week on our resolutions. As the year goes on, that number drops and drops and drops. And a fair number of us feel bad for breaking resolutions.

"I fail at improving myself."

That's right: We are working on ways to make ourselves feel bad.

Depression is - depending on who you talk to - epidemic, and things like New Year's Resolutions don't serve to help that at all.

Christmas

Given the schedule, I'm sure you had to see this one coming.

I don't dislike Christmas. I dislike what it has become.

Even if you're not an American, you've probably noticed our month-long Festival of Commercialization. Last I heard, we'd already infected parts of Canada and Europe.

Even non-Christians can see the appeal of a holiday that's all about love and celebrating life when surrounded by the death of Winter. It's a holiday that says to the cold, "You can't get us, because we stand together!"

And we've totally lost that. Now it's a holiday where people are trampled to death trying to get the best deals on a very limited number of products. Where people have been known to get into fistfights over a $40 chunk of plastic, fake fur, and some wires.

I don't just dislike that: I hate that.

CPAP and Bi-PAP Machines

Do you know what sucks? Not breathing in your sleep. It's called Sleep Apnea, and it's not as uncommon as I want it to be.

By the time you read this, I'll have been on CPAP for about three months and a BiPAP for about a week.

It has a bunch of parts - there's the unit itself, an attached humidifier (that I need to keep filled with distilled water), a hose, and a mask. If I don't use the humidifier, it dries my nose and mouth out. The mask clips tightly to my face, creating a seal through which air is (theoretically) not able to escape (except through the vents). Unfortunately, there are a few spots where the seal isn't great and I keep waking up with air in my eyes.

Do you know what's almost as bad as not breathing at night? Not being able to randomly wake up, roll over, and kiss your wife without unclipping and then removing a mask, being careful not to get tangled in the hose. At which point, she's already awake from the commotion and there's no surprise in the kiss.

I hate that.

I even have to travel with the damn thing, and I don't trust airline baggage handlers with delicate equipment. At least the government says it doesn't count against my carry-ons. And the TSA has to let it through.

Not that I trust either group - I've got a doctor's note to help me through security and onto the airplane. I'm going to have it laminated.

Because I can't just leave the machine at home - after all, it's keeping me alive, right?

Drama

Not the class you take in school. I mean the real thing.

In the last few years, I've had to cut ties with a couple of drama-llamas. Either they couldn't accept that differing opinions weren't personal attacks or else they couldn't handle the very idea that someone might not like them.

And no, I'm not going to give names or descriptions or even point at who the problems are. That would be unfair and would probably lead to more drama which - as you may have noticed - I dislike intensely.

If I hate being around drama, I hate being in the midst of it even more. When drama appears, feelings get hurt. And I hate feelings. Maybe I should write about those sometime.

The worst thing about drama? Sometimes you need to use it to get rid of the drama-llamas, because they don't understand plain English.

Here is some quick conversation samples I've had with Llamas a while back (I've edited them for clarity, so don't expect a blow-for-blow word-for-word account):

"I don't want to date your sister-in-law. I don't find her attractive."
"Maybe we can discuss then when you're ready to date again." [This was about two weeks before I started dating the woman who is now my wife.]
"My health is fine. I just don't like her. Or, for that matter, you."
"We'll discuss this once your mental health is improved."

Because - apparently - not being attracted to a specific woman is a sign of mental illness or of being ill-prepared to date. And disliking people is also a sign of mental illness.

"I don't like you. I never have. And you were well aware of that - you even discussed it with [mutual friend] a while ago."
"I don't know what to tell you. I don't know what I have done to cause you not to like me. Why don't you like me? I'm perfect! I'm a amazing! I'm a precious butterfly! *SOB* *SOB* *SOB* I was even a good hostess when you visited my husband who is a dear friend of yours! Now I'm going to call all of my friends and try to form an alliance against you, even though they're your friends, too!"

Because the solution to being disliked is to drag in every mutual friend you know. And being a good hostess is the key to being liked.

Did I say that was the worst? I lied. The worst thing about drama is being one of those friends who is not involved in a situation and is trying not to be involved in the situation, but who is inevitably sucked in and attacked by one of the participants.

Yeah. I dislike drama. And drama-llamas.

Crowds

Given how much I dislike individual people, it should come as no surprise that I dislike crowds.

Too many people in one place lose all shreds of intelligence.

Someone once told me that the average IQ of a crowd dropped noticeably the more people were added to that crowd, and it's true.

Crowds suck. They get in your way, and can turn malicious or dangerous at the drop of a hat.

Remember the riots of the New Hot Toy? You can substitute "Tickle Me Elmo" or "Furby" or "Zhu Zhu Pets" or whatever else for "New Hot Toy" in that previous sentence.

On those rare occasions when I go shopping (which, remember, I dislike), the crowds are inevitably in between me and the target of the trip. And then I get to stand in line, because of the crowds.

And people travel in packs - you can watch it happening. Go to a food court, sometime. People will stand around, looking around, trying to decide what they want to eat until one person goes to get whatever food they decided that they want. A line will instantly form behind them.

So to sum up: I dislike crowds.

Shopping

That's right: I dislike shopping.

I don't like grocery shopping, gift shopping, or any other kind of shopping. I dislike malls, shops, stores, and markets.

Part of it is the fact that I dislike people.

Part of it is that I know I'm spending money - I've been conditioned by my upbringing to believe that spending money is bad. I know that my parents didn't have grocery or clothes shopping in mind when this was drilled into me, but it sure stuck that way.

It doesn't help that I'm bad with money, and shopping just reminds me of that.

Mushrooms

My calendar says it's nearly Thanksgiving. How's about I bitch about something food-related this week?

I don't like mushrooms.

They're not a food, they're a fungus.

They're rubbery and unpleasant from the word "go."

Vegetarians and Vegans who used to eat meat often try to sell us on the "meaty" texture of the mushrooms. If I want meat, I'll eat a damn steak, not a fungus!

And don't even get me started on the numerous sins of Cream of Mushroom Soup!

Fluxx

Given who I am, you didn't think it'd be THAT long before I brought in a game, did you?

Fluxx isn't a game. Seriously. It's a way to spend time with (ideally) friends.

There's not enough strategy. It's 100% random. Games can last two turns or two days - and there's no way to predict which one it's going to be on the way in. Annoying players can prolong the game almost indefinitely.

This, by the way, is not my idea of a good time. If I'm going to spend two hours playing a game, I'd prefer it if it were a game where my actions moved me closer to victory rather than a game where the winner will be almost 100% arbitrary.

Does Eric Dislike You?

Because I know I'll eventually get asked, here is a quick quiz to help you determine whether or not I will probably dislike you:

Question #1:
Are you a human being?

If yes, add 1 to your score.
If no, add 0 to your score.

Scoring
If your score is:
0: Eric probably dislikes you. Unless you are a cat or an inanimate object, and even then it's a coin toss.
1: Eric probably dislikes you.
2 or more: Not only do you suck at math, but Eric probably dislikes you.

Uncontrolled Children

I don't mind kids. Really, I don't. Provided said children have even a small shred of manners or discipline.

But please don't let your demonspawn run loose unmonitored and unrestricted at all times.

I know that children need to play. I know that they need to have time to run around and shriek and have a good time. I'm okay with that, provided that the children ALSO learn that there is a time to be quiet and know to use inside voices.

I saw something a few weeks ago about how the role of children has changed over the years. It was fascinating. Apparently children who grow up with chores to do tend to turn out better-adjusted to life than children who can just sit around doing nothing.

If you don't at least make the attempt to control your children, don't expect me over for dinner.

Poorly-Edited Books

I love my Kindle. Don't get me wrong. I think that it (and similar devices) are the future of the publishing industry.

That said, however, the fact that any monkey with a keyboard can publish a book for the Kindle (allow me to plug my other blog, which is available on Kindle) has unfortunately hurt its potential.

Take, for example, Starstrikers. It includes such gems as:

Wending his way over dead defenders and crater holes, Sloan dove head first into the canon pit. He gave Centar a brief wave and then manned the twin-tube canon.

Of course, "Canon" is very different from "Cannon." For the record: The author used the correct word throughout most of the rest of the book.

You should not use your spell-checker instead of an editor.

I like Military Sci-Fi (MilSF). I even enjoy cheesy MilSF. This ... it was a poorly-edited collection of cliches mashed together with a helping of cheese that wanted to be gritty.

Throw the editing on top, and you have the trifecta.

When I bought the book, it was only $0.99. And it was overpriced at that. Now, to take advantage of Amazon's royalty scheme, it's gone up a bit. And it's made me wary of other self-published books that can be found in the Kindle store.

That's right, self-publishers: One badly-edited book that you had nothing to do with may have just cost you money.

Sugar

Well, not SUGAR, so much as its prevalence. Seriously - look at nearly any pre-packaged food.

Ever wonder why Americans, as a group, are so fat? As any expert will tell you, the biggest problems are diet and lack of exercise. The fact that every single food we eat contains ever-increasing quantities of sugar in an ever-increasing variety of chemical combinations is probably not helping.

Even McDonald's french fries contain sugar - they're sprayed with a (sugar-containing) mixture on the way out of the factory, because it gives them that golden color that we've come to associate with "correctly fried." Burger King does the same thing. So do dozens and dozens of food-producing companies.

Again: Go read the labels. If it ends in -ose, odds are better than good it's sugar¹. Sucrose and Fructose are two of the most common. And they're bad for you if you have too much - say "a little bit in every single food you consume."

It's enough to drive you out of the restaurants and into your own kitchen.

¹ My friend Geoff, who is a chemist, informed me this morning that all chemicals ending in -ose are sugars. Thanks, Geoff!

The Color Orange

I vaguely remember parts of the seventies. But one unfortunate reminder keeps popping up on kitchen countertops everywhere: The color orange.

I'm not fond of any shade of the color, but it's that bright eye-piercing hideous shade of orange that you can't get away from that I especially hate.

You know the color: It's the same one that blogger uses for its logo. And the Miami Dolphins. And ING Direct - love the service, hate the logo.

Can't we just put the seventies behind us and move on to something better?

Dogs

That's right. Dogs.

I don't like dogs.



Isn't she cute? She's a min-pin mix.

In English, that means she will grow up to chew up everything you own, piddle on everything you thought you owned, and attack all of your friends in a series of misguided attempts to establish dominance.

In fact, most dogs are like this. If you're not part of their pack, then you're a threat. And if you ARE part of their pack, they want to be more important than you. They want to be the Alpha, so you need to continually remind them that you outrank them within the pack.

It involves a lot of difficult training and constant reminders that you're in charge.

In general, it's not worth the effort.

Things Eric Dislikes

That's a pretty straightforward title, there. It should be pretty clear what I'm doing here, right?

Each post on this blog will be nothing more than me talking briefly about something I dislike. If I have some useful pictures, I'll throw those up. If I don't, I may look for a creative commons image on Flickr and use that. Or I'll hit you with the Wall of Text.

Expect more Wall of Text than pics, though.

Posts can be a few sentences to a few pages in length, depending on how many words I can find to complain about the subject at hand.

Fair warning: I'm likely to be snarky, sarcastic, and occasionally bitter. Sometimes I may be amusing. And I'll probably swear a bit, too. Because it's no fun bitching about something if you have to censor yourself.

If you have a thin skin, I may occasionally offend you. Spend some time in the sun. Toughen up. Read this when you can handle it.

Most of the time, this blog will be a complete waste of your time.

That's right: I suggest that you not read this blog. How do you like them apples?

Hopefully this blog will last longer than Eric Hates Everything (which both is not me AND stole the name I wanted to use).

Unlike my other blog, I will not maintain a set schedule here. At least, not until I find my voice, here. I will not update more than once per week unless I feel like it.