Hierarchy of Loathing

Some people love to love, but I loathe to loathe. It seems like every 10 minutes during my waking hours (and perhaps a little less frequently during my slumbering hours), I run into a situation that inspires loathing. Here are some every day examples, ordered from mildly loatheable to loathesomely enraging.

-People who abruptly reverse their direction in the middle of a crowded street. Pick a lane!

-Your upstairs neighbors walking all over their creaky floors when you are trying to go to sleep.

-Your across-the-courtyard neighbors blasting banda music at 9 am on a Saturday.

-Dogs wearing sweaters. God gave them fur to spare us the hideousness of dogs in sweaters, but alas, we live in a fallen world.

-A train closing its doors just as you emerge onto the platform.

-The knowledge that you could have made that train if only you hadn't gone back for your iPod.

-The knowledge that you could have made that train if not for the slow-moving person you were stuck behind on the stairs.

-People who stand on the steps of a subway entrance to talk on their phones. There's no way you're going be able to hear the train coming, say goodbye to your boyfriend, run down the stairs, swipe through the turnstile, and still catch the train, so why not stand where you aren't in the way?

-Groups of people who don't know how to use a Metrocard trying to get through an entrance with only two turnstiles.

-Bachelorette parties.

-Dogs in strollers.

Those are just some of the items on my loathe list. Thankfully one doesn't see a lot of clothed dogs walking (or being pushed) around the city in August, but all of the other items are a fairly frequent occurrence. I could do a whole list on the subway, but let's just keep it right here for now. And for those of you with a lot of bottled-up loathing, why not write a list of the things that annoy you and release some of it before you rage against the dying of the light? Unless of course, writing lists of things that annoy you annoys you.

The Crepuscule of Sailor's Wife Life

Yes, so I went for a little poetry with today's blog title, but why the heck not? And who doesn't love the word "crepuscule?" It's a disgusting-sounding word for the most beautiful time of day, just after sunset. It sounds like some kind of bivalve creature, though.

The grand language I use because this may one day be an historic moment in my life; the moment just before I found out whether my husband was offered a land job. You see, in less than an hour, the hubs is due to enter an office and negotiate a contract for an engineering job- on land. For the four-plus years we've known each other, our relationship has always been long distance for half of the year. For the past three years, it's been three weeks on the ship and three weeks off. There have been birthdays, Christmases, and anniversaries spent apart, and weddings attended sans my plus-one. There have been lonely, pathetic, and frustrated nights. There have been nightly hour-long phone calls. There was one text that read "Another ship hit ours. But everyone's okay!" There was the kitten acquired to dull my loneliness. Then there were the phone pictures of the kitten growing up, sent via email. It became a way of life, and I became accustomed to it. I stopped feeling jealous of other couples who get to see each other every day. To my friends and family, I painted a picture of a life that was exciting and romantic.

But now it may be over. I might finally be on the cusp of knowing what it's like to be married, full time. The possibility is dangling above me for the next hour or so, and yet I have to go on at work like nothing is happening. Yes? No? Yes?