people should be seen and not heard and not seen much

my ideal coffee shop has single-person booths, like cubicles, and the baristas bring you your drink and no one is allowed to talk to each other or on their cellphones or listen to music without headphones and no children are allowed and no conversation of any kind

my ideal coffee shop is a library with a really strict librarian but also you are allowed to drink coffee

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things I hate at the coffee shop:

    • people sitting in my direct line of vision even though I sit in the corner away from the window
    • people who take my seat at the starbucks I usually go to (My seat is the one in the corner by the door because there’s only once chance for someone to sit next to me and nobody likes the lounge chairs directly in front of me so usually there isn’t anyone sitting between me and the window and when the door opens, there’s a warm breeze mixed in with the AC.)
    • when there are more than two or three people in line because the baristas here are slow and odds are one of those people is going to order six different drinks and get confused halfway through ordering them so that one of the other baristas who could be making drinks has to come over and do an interpretive dance explaining the difference between iced and hot drinks
    • people who sit next to me when there are other seats available not next to me

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    • people who peer into the windows like they are looking for someone but actually they are just looking at their reflection
    • people who stand near me when I am sitting because I can only think about their dirty buttholes or smelly crotches being near my food
    • people who fuck with their hair more seems necessary this is a coffee shop you are not beyonce this is not a music video this is my life
    • people who squirm in my peripheral vision or in front of me and even across the way because it disturbs my whole aura
    • people who sit down in the bench seat like they are trying to catch something fast-moving with their butt because it makes me bounce on the cushion
    • skinny people who think they are skinnier than they are and try to squeeze into places where they don’t fit you are skinny not elastic
    • single customers who take up two tables when there are people looking for tables
    • people who sit four or five to a two-top table (and the two-top is really a one-top)
    • people who talk on their cellphones or watch or listen to anything without headphones on
    • students who look like they are meant to be studying but keeping replying to messages on their phone and giggling and making breathing noises

    • people who come to cafes for meetings, especially sales pitches–i have watched people open up a giant bag and start pouring liquids into various vials and expound upon the cleaning power of their products in the middle of an otherwise quiet coffee shop
    • anyone who comes into a quiet coffee shop making any kind of noise
    • families with children that do an elaborate but bad job of both trying to get their kids seated and arranged and stand in line at the same time
    • people who want a private consultation before they commit to ordering bread and coffee
    • people who come to Starbucks to buy gifts, not coffee, and want to confer with the barista like they need the details on an important investment
    • people who cut in line and the stupid surprised face they make when someone points it out to them like they thought three other people were just hanging out near the cash register because the wifi is better there, or something
    • people who eat their sandwiches with a fork and a knife
    • people who slurp their coffee
    • people who grab for their coffee too frequently (counts as squirming)
    • people who sit next to me instead of the other person when there are two empty seats between us
    • slow baristas
    • the person who shows up just as the rush is over so you had to wait ten minutes for an americano but she gets her frappucino in like 3 seconds and breezes out like no big deal
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    • the starbucks manager who always acts like my ordering a drink is a hurdle to her getting her work done
    • when one barista is making the drinks and two baristas are slapping each other with towels while five customers are waiting for their coffee
    • the delivery guy who comes and flirts really loudly with the baristas and makes them shriek and squeal really loudly
    • the people who let the door slam at the Starbucks by the train station
    • the stupid tiny fucking tables at the cama coffee behind sogo
    • the fact that my favorite Louisa never opened until 9:30 a.m. and now it’s perma-closed
    • whatever the fuck this traditional italian folk music remixed with a techno beat is what
    • the entourage accompanying the one person who is actually ordering a drink, and the fact that all six of them will notice that the one guy is blocking the exit except the guy who is actually blocking the exit
    • people who take pictures of their starbucks order
    • people who take multiple selfies at starbucks
    • people who think starbucks is fancy (overpriced, yes, but its not expensive enough to keep broke college students and people with kids out)

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  • when the barista tries to fix a drink she messed up instead of remaking it because I paid US$5 for this vanilla iced cold-brew coffee and i struggle not to feel stupid about that decision but when you fuck it up and just put some more sugary syrup in it and remind me to stir it myself it’s like a bad-idea one-night stand that doesn’t even redeem itself with decent sex
  • people who bring in their US$2 breakfast to enjoy the air-conditioned Starbucks atmosphere that I paid like US$8 to be able to sit in why didn’t the rest of us think of that you’re so smart ya dickhead
  • people who can’t fucking slide a chair or table over without making a big production like they are remodeling their living space and having an enraptured audience gives them inspiration to go on
  • people who line up too close to me i will make it awkward by flipping my hair or feigning a tic that looks like the electric slide
  • strangers who want to talk about anything besides what i want to drink

things I love

  • watching people try to squeeze through the closing gap in the electric doors because they didn’t know you have to press the button
  • watching people who try to cut in line like they are princess frappuccino get told to line behind those of us who are obviously waiting
  • watching the shitty Starbucks manager tell people who rocked up with breakfast shop sandwiches that cost like US$1 that they have to order a US$5 coffee or leave and watching them leave
  • the hot guys who used to run my favorite louisa’s and sometimes were still buttoning their collared shirts when i came in as they were opening

Maybe next time I will stand up for myself by myself

So let’s flashback to when I was fresh out of college, a new teacher in Taiwan. I had just turned 23. My co-workers and I, we didn’t have an office: we all shared a giant table with cupboards underneath, so there was plenty of opportunities for everyone to interact. I worked with a woman who became my best friend, a couple of other people, and this older guy named — who was married and had a kid, male pattern baldness, and literal war stories.

This is what -- looked like when I met him in 2004. He looks older now.
This is what — looked like when I met him in 2004. He looks older now.

Here’s what I remember about –:

  • He asked me to do a recording session for an English test with him. I did it. In the car on the way home, the man driving asked him how long he’d been in Taiwan. He said, “Taiwan very good.” The man stopped talking to us. I’d been in Taiwan less than six months at that point and knew he didn’t have a clue what was being said.
  • He used to talk about being in the military and fighting in the Gulf War. But he always said that driving in Taiwan was more dangerous than being in the infantry.
  • When we all had an hour break between evening classes on Wednesdays for a spell, he invited us into an empty classroom each week to watch Northern Exposure. But then he started making us watch videos about government conspiracies, so we stopped going, which sucked, because Northern Exposure was good TV.

Anyway, I started working elsewhere after two years and did not keep in touch with –.

Jump ahead to just a few weeks ago when we end up at dinner with friends of friends and — is there. Quelle surprise! He’s looking a little more worn, a little more tired, but whatevs, it’s been like a DECADE. So I introduce him to my hubs and that’s it.

Now, I didn’t miss –, and the rest of the people at the table I either don’t know or don’t like, but we’re at like my favorite restaurant that we never go to because J doesn’t like it. Fine. I resolve to love the shit out of my bamboo pork. These people are not gonna take that away from me.

I overhear — telling somebody about being in the military and I think, man, those stories were already old when you were dropping them in 2004, but, bamboo pork. I don’t care.

Then comes the part where someone mentions that a foreigner they know is a “know-it-all”. This strikes me as funny because basically every person at that table falls into that category. (Note to self: do some soul-searching, cause you probably do this shit, too.)

So I say something: “Dude, every foreigner who’s been here like a year is a know-it-all.”

“Do you mean foreigners in general, or specifically people at this table?” queries –. I instantly regret making him think I want to talk to him, but J is on the job.

“No, not necessarily people at this table, but like anybody who’s been here for a while thinks they know all about Taiwan and Chinese culture and whatever,” says J.

“Well, really, that’s funny, because I seem to remember Rae talking a whole lot when I knew her before. It was like, jeez, you couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Isn’t that right, Rae?”

So all at once I’m feeling hot and embarrassed, and I can feel some anger in there somewhere, but it’s not gonna beat the apology out of my mouth, and I am already doubly pissed for apologizing to this guy…

“No,” says J in his nice, big boom.

“What?” says –.

“No. Whatever you just said, no.”

Granted, the rhetoric could be polished up a bit, but that’s how it went down. And — got the point, because now he turns back to me to say, “C’mon, Rae, don’t you remember? I know you’ve changed a lot…”

But something snapped in me when J interrupted him. It wasn’t only that J defended me, because that was cool, but when he did that, I realized I was defendable. That I wasn’t automatically wrong, that I didn’t have to apologize, that I could talk back to this guy. That my apology-reflex is on steroids, but I have other muscles to flex.

“I don’t know about that, but I seem to remember someone not letting us watch Northern Exposure until he proselytized us with government conspiracy theories,” I said.

Again, you know, with time, I could have scripted a wittier exchange, but this is how it went down.

The gall! Even if I did or do talk too much, coming from him, that’s a textbook example of the pot calling the kettle black. And then to observe me during a dinner where I was flanked and outnumbered by my enemies and had resigned myself to just enjoying my meal, and to deduce that I had “changed” in any way…and then to ask me to publicly disagree with my husband while he’s standing up for me was just so stupid.

We all were leaving anyway, so we left, and — shot us a few awkward, possibly conciliatory glances as he left, but we did not acknowledge him. But I got a taste of what it could be like if I don’t automatically cringe and say sorry every time someone drops a complaint at my door. And yeah, shriveled-up, bullshit, ten-year-old complaints are not being received here. Take that shit right to the trash.

Bye, –.

The Bay City Rollers

From the very excellent essay The Magic Merge by Tracy Rose Keaton in Frequencies, Volume 1 Fall 2012 p.56-59:

The Scottish foursome The Bay City Rollers were the little neon-pink tulips that rose from AM radio’s utopian soil, and every girl wanted more than a whiff. […]

The boys ascended from their black car, so pale and slender, their shoulders narrow, and their hair ornately chopped-up in beautiful plumage. They wore plaid pants in gleaming red and green, with their little hipbones jutting out…These men were like girls, bird-like and frail. They looked like me, except with weenies. Where was their daddy, I thought. […]

The birdmen bobbed up and down, perpetually smiling. Suddenly girls were appearing on the stage, wrapping their bodies around the young men. Big dudes ran out of the wings, unwrapping the young girls from the birdmen’s bodies and carrying them off the stage. There was one girl after another, and sometimes we would be only a couple feet away from them as they were dragged offstage.

I will never forget the girl who required four men to carry her off. She was spasming, her pink baby-tee pulled up around her chest to reveal soft white rolls of fat, her sad little face knit in anger and disappointment. “I JUST WANT TO TOUCH THEM! I JUST WANT TO TOUCH THEM!” she wailed over and over.

Everything I need to know, I learned teaching kindergarten

This old thing was drafted during the years I wasn’t teaching. I’ve dusted it off and posted it so you can appreciate everything I knew circa 2012. Every. thing.

Break tasks into the smallest possible steps.
The first time I ever got observed as a kindy teacher, I tried to wow the head office with a very involved arts-and-crafts project. I brought all the ingredients for kids to make paper pizzas: paper plates, colored paper, tissue paper, glitter, stickers, gold and silver paint pens, markers, crayons, pom-poms, you name it. I explained every step to my kids: take a plate, glue on some red origami paper, okay, well, tear the paper first, then put on some stickers, and if you can be careful, dab some glue here and there and sprinkle the glitter on it, wait, but, put the stickers on first…

I made a pile of materials on each table and the class went into meltdown. They glued the paper in clumps, stuck the stickers on the back of the plates, spilled the glitter, and drew on everything with that damn silver pen. My observer explained to me that I should have given them just one item at a time and showed them one step at a time. In fact, I could have taken two days to finish the project. I felt bad because in my inexperience I had set them up for failure, but I learned something that day: Kids can’t make pizza. 

Provide an example
It’s no use to explain to twenty five-year-olds how to fold a piece of paper into an origami frog from scratch. They aren’t going to visualize a frog while you’re talking. You need to have an already-made example to show them what they’re making. Next time it’s your turn to show your colleagues how to make origami frogs, make a few examples ahead of time to compensate for their inability to conceptualize frogs.

Do a little something every day.
I taught kindy  at a school that provided us with a vague schedule and some teaching materials without expecting us to follow strict lesson plans. This gave experienced teachers a lot of latitude when it came to deciding what to do each day. But there’s no way twenty kindergartners can all cram a semester’s worth of English phonics in the last week of classes before their assessments like a bunch of undergrads strung out on Ritalin. Baby steps. That goes for you in your 40s trying to learn how to hula hoop or play the guitar.

You have to learn how to learn.
Kids literally know nothing when they are little. Most adults don’t know much. Why? Because they don’t know how to learn. In kindy, this means memorizing lots of information about the way we categorize the world and also learning to look for and identify patterns–colors, numbers, correlated events, phonics patterns, etc. Show me a kid who never picks up a book on their own because they don’t know how to read it until it’s been taught in class, and twenty years later I’ll show you the people who need to be walked through the Starbucks menu like it’s a whole new world every time they go. Every.single.time. Nobody likes those people.

Do it right AND fast
In Taiwan, even my kindy kids had to prep for an entrance exam into the next level of the program. The test was difficult, but it was also timed. Other teachers were generous with their students, requiring the whole class to move no faster than the slowest kid and letting them finish their practice tests at their own pace. In my class, once I was confident my students knew how to finish it, I put pressure on them to finish it quickly. Time limits and prizes for the fastest kids had them working at high speeds. In the end, more of my kids passed the test than anyone else’s. WHAT’S GOOD, DEBBIE WITH THE SHORT HAIR?!

Fake it til you make it
The parents of the students at my school expected their kids to be reading age-appropriate English books within weeks of studying English. It was kind of nuts. BUT their spongy little minds could memorize books in just a few days. The kids didn’t know they weren’t reading, but neither did the parents. Mom and Dad were happy, the kids were happy, and so the teachers were happy. And by the end of the three-year kindergarten program, the kids were actually literate. Like once I started reading about the wine I was drinking, I got tasked with ordering the wine all the time. The extent of my knowledge was “Merlots are generally fruity and accessible”. I ordered a Merlot, everyone loved it. I was a superstar because none of them had seen Sideways. You got this!

His cucumber video


A badass Egyptian woman gives an aggressive cat-caller a dose of his own medicine in this awesome video. The filmmaker Sharine Arif tells the story of Nora Labib, a woman who refuses to be a victim of cat-calling.

This could only have been better if a bunch of women then beat him up with the heels of their shoes. Goddamn. I really thought this was a beautiful thing.

It’s scary, though, to think how this reaction could have gone wrong. Perhaps in a less crowded place, this guy would have gotten violent. Why? Because men who behave like this are predators, inspired by a sense of entitlement, and any questioning of that entitlement is a personal attack that left unanswered becomes a diminishment of their masculinity and themselves.

But I hope every woman who can, every victim of a bully, gets to enjoy this feeling of being able to stand up for themself.


Out of Print tees review

So a little while ago we went to this wine expo in Taipei and it was amazing! We had so much fun!

But the point is that while we were there, this guy rocked up wearing a Great Gatsby t-shirt and everyone freaked out and wanted to talk to him about books. I got really jealous–I love books! I want strangers to know I love books and initiate conversations with me about books! So after drinking an obscene amount of wine, I went home and did some drunk shopping on Out of Print.

At that time, I got a The Sun Also Rises t-shirt and a Breakfast of Champions t-shirt. They were $28 apiece, which to me is expensive for a t-shirt. (They say with every purchase they give a free book to a library in need…but I think I could buy a t-shirt and donate some books to some schools for less than $28.)

I got a notebook, too, to get free shipping, which was cool. Also I love composition books, and they’re college-ruled, and the stationery here is so different and I have never gotten totally used to it…

This picture was taken by a third-grader, which is no excuse for my hair.
This picture was taken by a third-grader, which is no excuse for my hair.


I was kinda sweaty in this pic, but you can tell how the shirt fits.
I was kinda sweaty in this pic, but you can tell how the shirt fits.

So those shirts were on the way and then I get an e-mail from Out of Print saying now they’re having a BOGO offer. Ugh, I tried to hold off but…in the final hour (literally), I bought four more t-shirts: Mind of My Mind, The Great Gatsby, Animal Farm, and Metamorphosis.

My rule was that I couldn’t buy a t-shirt for a book I hadn’t read or didn’t like, and I didn’t want to to get more than one shirt of a certain color. That’s how I ended up with this white The Great Gatsby t-shirt because I really wanted to the Animal Farm tee in blue because it had a scoop neck. It took a long time to decide. I could have bought more if I didn’t already feel slightly sick about spending so much on t-shirts.

Overall, I was really pleased with all these shirts. I went with a large instead of medium, and I thought the fit was flattering. The cotton felt quality and I was happy with what I got. But this Gatsby shirt, man, it’s a large, too, but it fits like it’s a size smaller than the others, and it’s literally so thin that it’s transparent. I definitely considered returning it, but I’d gotten it on sale, and it was shipping from the U.S., and that seemed like a lot of work. So I have to wear a tank top under this one, and maybe lose another ten pounds. Honestly, it’s like a joke. I’m annoyed that I even paid $14 for this shirt.

This is the tightest of all the shirts. And it's super thin!
This is the tightest of all the shirts. And it’s super thin! They cheaped out on this one for sure.

I like the way the Animal Farm shirt fits, but then like because it’s based on the cover of the Japanese edition, and so there are kanji characters, which are traditional Chinese characters, so that I am just wearing this shirt with a pig on it that says Animal Farm in Chinese. I’d bet you like a pretty substantial sum that zero of my co-workers have read Animal Farm–why would they have? I wonder if they think I’m just weird. They probably think the pigs are cute, or aspiring to be cute…

amateur vagrant out of print tee review animal farm orwell

I also like the way my Mind of My Mind shirt fits. Actually, I really like Octavia E. Butler, but this wasn’t my favorite book of hers. But I think wearing like A Parable of the Sower t-shirt would be depressing, and wearing a Kindred t-shirt as a white woman might be kind of tone-deaf. Both of those books I preferred, though.

amateur vagrant out of print tee review mind of my mind octavia butler

I wore this Metamorphosis t-shirt, and J was like, I’m not sure if you realize that there are kind of like eyes, you know, right there…Which I did realize when I bought the shirt and I thought that would be hilarious. Also it says F. Kafka across my bellybutton when I wear it. I think that’s funny.

amateur vagrant out of print tees review kafka the metamorphosis
I did not realize these pants were reflective until the picture was taken. It’s all about the shirt, though…

Also, like more than a year ago, I bought two sweatshirts from this same company: Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen is a perennial favorite and I’m really into the peacock motif lately) and the stamped library card. They are both larges. They didn’t fit me the way I expected when I bought them, but then I lost some weight and I think they are a bit baggier now, which I like. Anyway, I often wear them over collared shirts in the winter.

And after all that…nobody even notices. If I’m not with my husband, I’m with Taiwanese co-workers and elementary school kids, and none of them are reading English novels. I taught a class of third-grade girls for two hours the other day, and it wasn’t until they were getting ready to go home that one of them noticed that my Mind of My Mind shirt “had a face on it.”

Who’s cool now? Still not me.

None of these links are affiliate links and this post is not at all sponsored. I had trouble finding reviews and helpful information before I bought these shirts, so I was just trying to give others a fighting chance to make good decisions. For me, I’d buy anything else there in the future except another white-white shirt like the Gatsby shirt.


  1. How are you?
  2. How old are you?
  3. Are you married?
  4. Is your husband Taiwanese?
  5. Do you have any kids?
  6. Why not?
  7. Are you pregnant?
  8. Why are you so fat?
  9. Why you here is so big?
  10. What did you eat for dinner?
  11. Who cooked it for you?
  12. You can cook?
  13. Do you have a sticky ball?
  14. Can we have some gum?
  15. Can we have stickers?
  16. Why do you live in Taiwan?
  17. What do you like, Taiwan or America?
  18. Do you know Stephen Curry?
  19. What is “fuckboy” mean?
  20. May I go to the bathroom?
  21. May I take out my trash?
  22. May I borrow a tissue?
  23. May I get some water?
  24. May I get some trash?
  25. May I wash you hand?
  26. You eat is what?
  27. May I have one?
  28. What you drink?
  29. Do you know Taylor Swift?
  30. Do you want some chocolate?
  31. You phone all is English. Can you read?
  32. All?
  33. You husband is handsome or ugly?
  34. Where is you mom?
  35. You every day go back America?
  36. May I borrow a pencil?
  37. May I borrow an eraser?
  38. You shoes is how many money?
  39. You have FB?
  40. What is your FB name?
  41. Do you have Line?
  42. How do you know Chinese?
  43. Do you know what is “turtle head”?
  44. Do you know what is “make love”?
  45. Do you think Taiwan children is so cute?

Sloopy, my horned frog

Sloopy the ladykiller
Sloopy the ladykiller

I really want a dog, but not a pet shop dog, and also my husband doesn’t want a dog, and we live in an apartment so sometimes I think it would be downright wrong to have a dog, so all I’ve done so far is whispered, “Okay, universe, I am open to getting a pet.”

So far, the universe has given me two hamsters and an albino horned frog.

For some reason, these frogs are kind of popular in Taiwan. I think it might be like a feng shui thing because they eat a lot and get very fat without expending much energy. Maybe it’s a metaphor for earning and saving money? I think that because I see these frogs in homes and businesses the way you might expect to see a fish tank here, and I know the fish are for feng shui.

Also, one of my students used to have this little statute of what she said was a mythical Chinese creature that ate but didn’t poop, and it was supposed to help bring the family good luck in earning money. That doesn’t seem incredibly different from what my boring frog does.

Little fatty
Little fatty
This is his "action" shot
This is his “action” shot

In Taiwan, I see these frogs living in tiny little tanks, usually in water like they are aquatic. But they are not aquatic and I don’t think anything should be living in a tiny tank. I don’t really get it. I’ve set my buddy up in a little terrarium with a layer of soil (from the pet shop) and a layer of terrarium moss (from the pet shop).

[Update: For the summer, he is hanging out in a tank with water and a slope of gravel that allows him to move in and out of the water. He doesn’t move much, but the soil was getting moldy in the heat and this was my compromise to try to keep him moist, comfortable, and healthy.]

I called him Sloopy because that sounds like the name of something that isn’t very active. Also, my husband is an OSU fan, and that includes the marching band, and their signature song is Hang On Sloopy.

I don’t know why.

These frogs are only opportunistic eaters. They sit and wait for something to walk in front of them, and then they eat it if they can. Otherwise, they don’t move.

It’s about the same as having a houseplant that needs to have the soil changed every so often, and also needs crickets for food. So I have another little tank with crickets in it, and the crickets have a little food try where I put their fruit, and so on.

Maybe the universe is testing me. If I can take good care of this frog that doesn’t do anything and is in no way adorable, maybe I’ll get my puppy.

Okay, actually, sometimes, I think he’s so ugly, he’s cute.


Eating his dinner: the biggest fish in the tiny feeding tank
Eating his dinner: the biggest fish in the tiny feeding tank
His face looks like Kermit, trying to swallow that big fish
His face looks like Kermit, trying to swallow that big fish

9 things I can’t handle

  1. The sticky flypaper in my house. We live on a tropical island, so fruit flies and mosquitoes are ubiquitous. My adorable husband is really diligent in trying to minimize the number of little pests we have to deal with. His latest idea is posting sticky fly paper on the wall above our little kitchen trash can. I never notice it except when I am scraping something into the trash can, and only when THE STICKY FLY PAPER COVERED IN DEAD FRUIT FLIES GETS STUCK IN MY HAIR. Last time it happened, I burst into tears like a toddler. So gross.
  2. Things with tendrils. I’m not sure how to explain this. I can eat things with tentacles. Tentacles don’t bother me. But like when a bean sprout gets caught in the mesh covering our sink drain and I have to pull it out and there are maybe little roots (it grows fast here, give me a break), then I feel nauseous. I imagine this stuff growing into my skin and I want to die. People who are scared of holes are trypophobic, but what are people who are afraid of tentacles/tendrils called?
  3. Bugs. Beyond the fruit flies and the mosquitoes, I don’t have to deal with a lot of insects, but I have a horned frog and he eats crickets. I have to pick them up every now and then and they kind of stick to me and kind of crawl and it makes me go cold.
  4. Coughing without covering your mouth. It’s nuts how often you can see people walking around with their mouths WIDE OPEN LIKE AN AIRPLANE HANGAR and just make terrible noises and letting whatever is in their mouth fly out. This is how the world ends.
  5. Spitting. The sight of somebody’s wad of sputum on the ground makes me nauseous, but also, c’mon guys: GERMS. If you have something you gotta get rid of, get a tissue or get thee to a toilet and expectorate. Don’t just put all your nastiness outside for everyone to share.
  6. Leftover Chinese food. I LOVE CHINESE FOOD. But most of it is stir-fried and very oily. Most of the meat is very fatty. The vegetables are boiled, steam, or sauteed, and very wet. There is nothing better when it’s hot out of the wok, and nothing less appetizing when it’s gotten cold. People disagree with me, but I don’t think you can reheat Chinese food, either. It’s just never edible again. That’s why I eat it all right away.
  7. Thick drinking glasses. Okay, obviously, I can if I have to. But I really like drinking out of the “right” cups–thin, crystal glasses for wine, mason jars for iced tea, little juice glasses, highball class, beer bottles or cans, my Nalgene…but some people have these thick glass or plastic cups and they just use them for whatever and they are bulky and uncomfortable and poorly made and I just would rather not have anything to drink than drink my tea out of some weird heavy glass.
  8. Loose hairs. I have fairly long hair and I shed a lot, so I am always finding hairs on me, hairs on the floor, hairs in the bathroom…but every time, it makes me feel a little sick. And other people’s hair makes me feel doubly unwell. Also, loose fingernails. For a while, one of my sibs was collecting their fingernails in a little glass jar just to be a weirdo, and they showed it to me, and I almost puked. Ugh. If it’s supposed to be attached to your/my person, and it’s not, it makes me ill.
  9. Other people’s beds or laundry. This all kind of falls under the same umbrella because I feel like it’s all gross. Of course I have slept in other people’s beds before, but I am usually at least a little uncomfortable. Other people sleeping in my bed tends to put me right over the edge if I think about it too much. I don’t even like to mix other people’s laundry in with mine, except for my husband. All those dirty underwear rubbing around together in that germy water…

…I die.