Pet Peeves

We all have them. Those little things that drive us crazy, no matter how stupid they are. We call them pet peeves. Which is an interesting name. I just looked it up, interested to see where it came from. Peeve is actually an American word. Go figure. We're American. Things annoy us. It was back-formed from "peevish," which is from Middle English, and it was first used around 1910. How on earth could they know that?!

I could point out several more things about the origins of the phrase, but I shall resist the temptation. Hopefully people divulging useless information is nobody's pet peeve...

At any rate, I was on some website the other day (I don't remember which one). The soul purpose of this particular webpage is to log in to the website. There's nothing else you can do on the page, except maybe link back to a home page. And yet, when you get there, the cursor doesn't automatically show up in the username field. Now, I'm no web designer, but it seems to me that it can't be that hard to make the cursor go where it needs to go. Everyone else does it. Instead, I have to actually click on the field. I know - the horror, right? Probably doesn't bother most people. But it drives me crazy.

That made me think of some of my other pet peeves. Things like people who don't use their turn signal, and then get upset when you don't let them into your lane. Because I'm supposed to read your mind? Or were you signaling by letting your car drift dangerously close to mine? Because I thought that was just because you were texting your friends while you were driving.

I suppose I should pay more attention to the unstated intentions of others.

Of course, there are plenty of pet peeves to be discussed when it come to driving (cough, tailgating, cough). Let's face it. We always consider ourselves the best driver on the road. Anything happens, and it's automatically someone else's fault. Don't lie - you know you feel that way. At any rate, I'm going to leave the realm of bad driving at that...

Another thing that drives me crazy is when somebody interrupts another person who is speaking. It doesn't even have to be me being interrupted - just listening to a conversation when one person consistently interrupts bugs me. I'm not talking about an occasional I'm-too-excited-to-tell-you-what-I'm-thinking-so-I'm-going-to-interrupt-you type of a thing. I'm talking about the persistent interrupters. Apparently anything they have to say is much more important. Than anything else.

I could go on, of course, but I don't want to sound like some peevish, negative person. I leave that to all of you - what are your pet peeves?

Aunting

Wow. Two blogs in as many days. What's wrong with me?!

I have four brothers and a sister, all of whom are married and all of whom have at least two children. Needless to say, I have a few nieces and nephews. The newest little Bruner joined our ranks nearly a month ago. Lucky girl. I finally got some pictures off of my digital camera, and I had to share with the world...


This is Claire Louise at about a day old. Isn't she adorable? Aw.

I couldn't pass up putting this one on here. This is Claire with her cousin Alex, who absolutely loves babies. Alex is almost 6, and she sat and held Claire for at least an hour this last weekend.

Anyway, the biggest perk to being the only single one in the family is that I get to spoil my nieces and nephews and brag about them. Because they're the cutest kids in the world. All seventeen of them.

And I'm not biased at all...

Parents

Everyone who knows my dad knows he has a great sense of humor. Very corny, but great nonetheless. The best part, of course, is his laugh. You just can't listen to him laugh and not join in. And, since he tends to laugh at his own jokes, it's very difficult not to laugh, whether the joke is actually funny or not.

My mom is just as hilarious, but her humor is a bit more subtle, so not as many people are aware of it. Recently, she showed just how funny she could be...

First of all, you have to understand that Dad is a bit, well, obsessive-compulsive. Or, as they said in the old days, anal. Have you ever seen the TV show Monk? Yeah. That's Dad.

Anyway, we have an end table by our couch with magazines on it, and every time Dad walked by, he would straighten them, so that they'd look something like this:

Then, as soon as he left the room, my mom would get up and go mess them up again, just to see if he would notice. Then Dad would walk back through the room and straighten them out once more. He never said anything about it.

This went on for about a month, until my mom couldn't take it anymore. She watched him straighten them one more time, and then asked him if he ever got frustrated with them getting messed up. He started to answer, and then he said, "Wait, have you been doing that?!"

At which point he started laughing so hard that it was impossible not to join in.

Moving

You know those life-changing decisions that everyone hates making? Things like should I quit and get a different job? Should I get married to what's-his-name? Should I have ice cream after dinner tonight? You know, the important ones.

Well, I've made an important, life-changing decision lately, and I'm really pretty excited about it.

I'm going to be moving next month. I'll be sharing an apartment with my cousin (we've lived together before, so we know we can do it without killing each other), and we're both ready for this change.

When I was making this decision, several people told me I should buy a house. It wasn't a bad idea, but I decided not to. Since then, I've decided that renting definitely has its perks. First of all, we'll have a pool. That we don't have to take care of. And a hot tub. Ah yeah.

Also, if anything breaks, someone else will fix it for us. Not that I won't try anyway, cause I like to pretend that I'm good at fixing things, but when I can't figure it out, there's always someone to call. Definite perk. And according to people who have lived in this complex before, they're pretty good about fixing things right away. Gotta love that!

There's also the issue of a yard. Not that I wouldn't like the benefits of a yard, but I don't have to take care of one (except maybe my parents, for when I feel like gardening...). We have a playground on the property of our apartment building, for when our nieces and nephews want to visit. We're set!

If anyone wants to see where we'll be moving, you can click here. We'll be in a two-bedroom apartment. It's about a five-minute drive to work, and it's right by a huge shopping center. Booyah!