Things I don’t believe in

Tree-flavored food or drink. Pine is for candles and forests. I’m looking at you, Starbucks Juniper Latte. 

Counting calories. Sometimes I laugh when I remember that I ever did this. It is just a ridiculous notion. Tracking (and limiting) single units of energy that your body needs to thrive and survive? Insanity. 

Florida. Can we all just stop pretending that Florida is paradise? It’s never not humid and sticky there. Even its rain is hot. Also have you SEEN The Paper Boy? I mean, come on. Also alligators. 

Hockey. It’s cold, on purpose. Plus there’s just so much back-and-forth and back-and-forth and back-and-forth without any real thing actually happening besides the skating back-and-forth. AND YOU CAN TIE. If the game ends at 0-0, is it even a game? If the result is that there’s no winner, is that even a sport?

Soccer. See “Hockey” rationale above. Minus the cold. 

Gyms. They used to be my second home. I once literally wrote in my journal, “I feel most at home when I’m at the gym.” LIES. You, I, we, do not feel at home at gyms. They are gyms. They are soul-sucking concrete blocks built to give you space to intentionally shape your body into something it naturally isn’t and doesn’t want to be. Those aspirational posters of muscley white girls seep into your psyche whether you guard against them or not. The talk of food plans and work out goals and weight management wreak havoc on your heart whether you engage in the conversation or not. Get outta there. Your body wants intuitive movement, but please don’t make it do that in a gym. 

Selecting a bathroom stall directly next to my selected bathroom stall in any given public restroom.
Unless, say, it’s intermission at a theatre show and there is literally a line of ladies waiting to pee, why on God’s green earth would you intentionally opt in to having a toilet neighbor? This is especially flabbergasting if there are an actual dozen open stalls and you see one door closed and IN USE, and you choose to plop your naked ass down right next door. If you do this, you are honestly a monster.  

White chocolate. Gross. 

Beyoncé. I’m hiding this one in the middle because it’s dripping with controversy. I’m not anti-Queen Bey, I just consider myself neutral on her. 

Plain/regular/original M&Ms. Once you’ve had literally any other kind of M&M, you realize how crunchy and downright uninspiring the plain ones are. And you know what’s worse than plain M&Ms plain? Plain M&Ms in ice cream. Do not commit this act of horror. 

Emojis. Just kidding. Emojis are the best and if you disagree you’re wrong.

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