I’m in the first 24 hours of Red Wedding Week, which means everyone around me is treading lightly like they’re looking for landmines with Princess Diana. If I don’t constantly have a chocolate bar or cookie in my hand, I’m a miserable human being to be around.
Since I’m hormonal and volatile, I obviously thought, “Why not channel this ovarian rage into a blog post?”
Here’s a list of things I’m irrationally hating this week.
Zooey Deschanel reveals the name of her baby girl to be Elsie Otter.
Really? An Otter? Is that a family name? Unless it’s after a relative who fled Eastern Europe during the Holocaust, that’s a dumb name to give to your baby. In fact…
People who name their babies after animals – NOPE.
Bear. Birdie. Raven. Hawk. Phoenix. Fox.
I don’t even like the name Joey because it makes me think of Kangaroos. Sure, it’s cute to say, “This is our little baby Bear” but in 20 years when Bear’s applying for a job, I’m worried he’s going to wear his best Birkenstocks and shirt made of hemp to the interview.
People who Instagram pictures of themselves doing Yoga – NOPE.
There’s nothing zen and in the moment of you asking your friend to get out of warrior pose and snap your picture. You’re not searching for balance and inner peace, you’re thirsty for likes. Buddha’s judging you.
Drake’s Turtleneck – NOPE
Like all girls within a 100km radius of Toronto, I for sure have a lady hard-on for Drake. What I refuse to accept is that he’s trying to bring back the turtleneck for men in his video Hotline Bling. Not just a turtleneck, a chunky knit turtleneck of 98 Degrees proportions. I’m not against people keeping their necks warm, but I will not stand by and let the early 2000’s come back into fashion. If we let this happen we’re opening the door for bedazzled boot-cut jeans and studded belts.
I won’t stand for it.
#NormalizeBreastfeeding – NOPE
This hashtag drives me up the wall. Normalize breastfeeding? I can’t think of anything that’s MORE normal than breastfeeding a baby. Seriously. There was literally a point in history when there was a woman, in your village or town, whose job was to breastfeed babies that weren’t even her own. It’s called a Wet Nurse.
Just like I don’t enjoy when people Instagram food, I don’t enjoy people who post pictures of themselves breastfeeding their children. I get it, it’s natural. It’s good for your baby, and all those who don’t breastfeed will burn in the fiery depths of hell (yeah right), but please. I came on Instagram for two reasons :
- To stalk randoms and celebrities with beautiful hair and to feel like shit about my life
I want to have unrealistic ideas about other people’s lives, and I want to look at foster kittens. I don’t want to interrupt your child’s dinner. Frankly, it’s rude. No phones at the dinner table. Have some manners.
So, that’s me for the next 4-6 days. If anyone needs me I’ll be in bed by 5pm with a giant bag of Skinny Pop binge watching American Horror Story.
I bid you farewell.
To all the babies and future babies named after animals, I’ll still love you.