hate – inshiftingcolour

This post is for my darling parents who, after twenty-nine years of knowing me, were shocked to discover that I dislike roast chicken. I’m a polite sort, and I pride myself on eating what is put in front of me (there are exceptions, roast chicken is not one), so I suppose this did come as quite a surprise.

To avoid future surprises, here’s a list of other things that I really, truly don’t like.

Roast pork is probably the grossest roast there is.

Roast pork
It’s a contentious issue, but no–I don’t like it. I enjoy pork crackling on occasion, and I can’t get enough of those crackling chips, but as for actual roast pork itself? It’s one thing I will literally not eat. Not even to be polite. I’m sorry.
The colour orange
You know how there are some things that you feel very strongly about, but can’t really nail down a reason why? That’s me and the colour orange. It offends me. I don’t understand how anyone looks at that ghastly pigment and thinks, ‘Oh that’s a nice colour!’.

It’s a beautiful lie.
The snow
I’ve only been once, and I’ve never forgiven it. The snow is a lie. It looks fluffy and nice and happy, but underneath that facade (lie!) is a hard, cold, and miserable reality. It’s probably worth mentioning that the one time I did go to the snow, I got hit by a toboggan and it completely ruined my day.
The beach
This is a bit unfair. What I really hate is sand. The beach is nice enough to look at, but getting to the good bit (the water!) means tracking through sand that gets in your shoes and refuses to leave no matter how much you shake them. Worse, sand stuck to wet skin. And even worse than that, sand stuck to wet skin under damp clothes. Gross.
Doing the dishes
But everyone hates this, you say! So do I. I hate the feel of dishwater, even if it’s perfectly clean. It leaves me with an icky feeling that makes my skin crawl, so I try not to do the dishes by hand unless I’m able to shower immediately afterward. Doing the dishes in winter is even worse, because then I have to chose between being warm and wearing long sleeves, or being cold but avoiding the death-like grip of wet cuffs around my wrists.

I also hate when people put dishes in the sink while you’re washing. I hate having dishes in the dish water at all, unless I’m actively washing them. This picture makes me unreasonably angry.
Wet clothing
If you haven’t worked it out by now, I absolutely hate wet clothing. Jeans and wool especially. Jeans soaked up from the bottom slapping against my calves… just thinking about it makes me shudder.
Small yappy dogs
Or anything maltese, shih-tzu, small, excitable and demanding bundles of animated poop. I have a semi-rational hatred for these breeds, stemming from an unfortunate incident with newborn kittens. Much as I know I shouldn’t blame the breed for the deeds of others, I still find them annoying and all-round dreadful. I like big dogs, though. Big dogs are awesome.
Alfalfa sprouts
I don’t hate the taste, but it’s hard to get past the feeling of having shoved a handful of pubic hair in your mouth. They’re difficult to remove from your food, too, which makes them even more offensive in my opinion.

Zombie toes.
Broad beans
I’ll eat them if they’re put on my plate, but I won’t go out of my way to get them. Broad beans are basically zombie toes masquerading as food. Nope.
Peas (mixed with corn)
I don’t mind peas, but why in the world would you mix them with corn? Corn was made to be enjoyed on its delicious own, scooped up by the forkful! It’s so much harder to eat my dinner when I have to eat all the peas out of the way first. Actually, why would you even cook peas? They’re so much better fresh. Ditto for carrots.
Mashed potato, smooth peanut butter and chocolate mud cake
And other dense or mushy foods. I’ve choked on a mouthful of chocolate mud cake before. I don’t like the way these foods stick to my mouth and are difficult to swallow. Crunchy peanut butter is awesome, and I love potato when it’s not mashed. Just don’t expect me to get too excited if you pick the chocolate mud cake over the light and fluffy sponge with jam and cream (which, lets be honest, should be the first choice every time).
Phone calls
I really hate talking on the phone, and when I do, I get frustrated by idle chit chat. Phone calls should be for getting things done. Getting answers that are needed now, things that can’t wait for a reply to a text or email. Unless we’re going to have a meaningful exchange beyond common pleasantries, I’m really not interested in being on the phone. Mind you, I also hate text messages trying to sort out plans when a more immediate phone call could have details settled in a minute or two.
Chit chat
I made so much of this in retail, and I had to, but that didn’t make it fun. I’m not really interested in the mundane details of people’s lives, and I assume no one is really interested in the mundane details of mine. I like to talk about things that matter, not what you had for breakfast and what sites you visited on your phone while taking your morning shit.

Unless it’s interesting to you, and you communicate how that’s interesting to you–because honestly, what’s interesting to you is interesting to me. But if we’re making conversation just to make conversation… don’t be surprised if I tune out.
Traffic
Some of you know my resistance to crossing the road anywhere outside of a designated crossing area, or have seen me wait and wait and wait to cross the road when I could have gone several times already. I hate traffic. It’s chaotic, loud, and confusing. Even when you know the rules, you can’t guarantee that road users are going to abide by them, so there’s no safety in it whatsoever. Add that I am terrible at judging speed and distance, and you can see how I much prefer to cross at the lights when, at least if I’m hit by a car, the driver could be charged with vehicular manslaughter.
That cutlery-on-plate sound
You know the one. Where your knife or fork slips in a weird way, and scrapes awkwardly along the plate with that horrible REEEEK. Similar to when your teeth catch each other and the sound vibrates through your head. Feels like it’s shaking your skeleton. Do not like.
Nightclubs
Pushy people, loud music, flashing lights, music that makes no sense and goes on with no defined purpose but for bodies to shuffle around until they get bored. Why is no one else as bored as me in those places? Don’t they get tired of the repetitive movement? Aren’t they getting a headache from the noise? You can’t even have a conversation, it’s like a suffocating dungeon of eternal dancing. I am never drunk enough for that.

Does no one value personal space? No?
Vague time-frames
‘In a while’ is not a time-frame. Neither is ‘pretty soon’ or ‘in a few days’. Vagueness bothers me in general, which is strange–because I’m so good at it myself. But when someone says to me ‘I’ll text you soon’, I will literally wait by the phone until it comes through. If someone says ‘I’ll pick you up today some time’ I will spend the entire day ready and waiting, even if you don’t turn up until 7pm. I like specific times. That way I can plan myself according to what I expect will happen, rather than being in limbo.
Sudden changes
I like to have a good idea of what’s happening, and roughly when it will happen. This gives me time to prepare myself (mentally and physically) for what comes next. Sudden changes to the plan can deeply upset my day. Whether that’s something doesn’t work like it should have, or someone deciding out of the blue that we should just ‘go now’ when I expected another hour or so (or if a vague, or no time frame was specified).

It’s one of those things that happens in the real world, and I have to suck it up–but don’t be surprised if I get unreasonably snippy or don’t seem ‘ready’ when plans change. My sense of order has been thrown out, and I’m trying to put it back together.
Unresolved things
If something is broken, I have to fix it. If I’m capable of fixing it, I need to fix it now. If something is getting in the way of my ability to fix it, I’m going to be the most frustrated person you ever saw. If I’m not capable of fixing it, or I don’t know how to go about it, I will aggressively Google until I’ve found every potential solution and looked through them to choose a course of action. This can take hours. Other normal things, like eating and sleeping, become way less important on my crusade to resolve what is usually a minor issue. I have frequently pulled all-nighters trying to make something work.
Spelling and grammar mistakes
Before you plead the case of those who are less capable, let me say that I understand that. I’m not great with numbers, other people aren’t great with grammar. When it comes to more conversational writing, such as here or Facebook, I’m happy to let the rules of grammar and spelling slide a little.

What I hate is errors in publications that should have been proofread. Sales documents, signage, news media and educational material. One error in the work is enough for me to discredit the entire thing. Harsh, but if you can’t even get a decent proofreader, you’re not an authority on anything.
Roast chicken
Finally, we get to what sparked all of this: roast chicken. In fact, all meat that still has bones/eyes/scales/tails/whatever still attached–I don’t want it. When I do have roast chicken, you can bet I’ll be picking out the pieces that I’m absolutely certain are edible, and steering clear of anything that might be fat, bone, cartilage or some poor person’s finger. Nice clean fillets make me happy.