I also hate Christmas, too!

(Kidding).

Okay, so the dislike of murderers, the inexcusably tight-wadded or, say...Massachusetts drivers ("MASSHOLES") is universal.

However, for me, I'm realizing, I dislike some things that most people like, if not, LOVE.

Consider the following grounds to call me a Debbie Downer:


Candy
Except for Trolli Peachie-Os about twice a year (I'm weird), high fructose corn syrup alone is not my kind of sweet fun. I prefer the old school sugar and butter derivatives.


Swings
Yeah, that old childhood park pastime. Well, they make me dizzy and nauseous.

I distinctly remember a kindergarten "Glad/Sad" workbook exercise and marking an image of an elephant swinging as "Sad." I was a sharp little tot, probably bored with such petty exercises and wanting to answer 'truthfully' to stir up some non-conformity.


Soda/Pop
When I tell people I don't drink soda, they usually respond with some kind of form of "Good for you/Oh man, you're so healthy/Wow, I wish I could give it up too."
No, people. Seriously, it's not even for health reasons.
It's simply because I think it tastes like candy (see above) in liquid form, and to top it off, IT BURNS.

Liquid candy + burn factor equals NOT my idea of fun. It continues to shock me how much of an anomaly I am this way. Don't other people see this???!!! Something that tastes rotten and HURTS YOU AS YOU DRINK IT (and I'm not even addressing the osteoporosis).

Might as well have NyQuil or Robitussin- stuff is all the same. The only soda you'll ever see me gag down is half a glass of Ginger Ale on airplane flights (to keep my stomach at ease).


Milk Chocolate
It has to be dark (without lecithin wax filler) or it's not of any interest. You can now see that without candy or any chocolate Hershey or Nestle products, how Halloween ties with Flag Day on my 'fun holidays' list.


Roadtrips
I must preface this by saying that wide open spaces intensely scare me because I conjure some strange grandiose subconscious notion that all civilization will vanish before I've had a chance to return.

So...long periods of time spent staring out at them? My idea of hell!

Oh did I mention I have legs (inseam: 35") and would rather be in bed to do most everything.


Dogs
How could I be so heartless? Well...my first experience with my little neighbor buddy's dog was really traumatizing.
It's name was Mistral. It was seriously hyperactive, bipolar, and also had some kind of vicious ailment like leukemia or something.
Dog was evil.

It was not disciplined properly I guess (but my memories of Mistral also involve my friend's mom yelling at it to stop and chaining it up), so it always jumped up and barked in excess quantity and decibel level. Nasty creature.

(Later, I would find out that 'Mistral' is the name for seasonal winds in Provence, France (like the Santa Anas of Southern California, I think). Well, as you can see, Mistral was the dog equivalent of an unwelcome Santa Ana.)

PLUS: my little sister Katherine was once bit by a dog (Siberian husky). Foul and wrong!

I'm sure if I had a dog like Old Yeller or Lassie, I would feel differently, but honestly, when I see a dog I see 'unnecessary mess' written all over it: unnecessary food going towards an un-eatable specimen who will crap unnecessary feces over MY terrain.

('MY terrain' being the world).

And why in the world would I want to go up and let something that doesn't talk 'sniff my hand'...for all I know, it's going to bite it off!