• Driving through the complex with trash on roof of their car.
• Riding bike while holding trash in one hand.
• Pushing it on a skateboard.
• Driving with it on the trunk (not in trunk, on).
• Driving with it on the hood of their car.
• Pushing it on top of babies stroller.
• Holding leash controlling kid in one hand, dragging trash with other.
• Open truck containing trash bouncing along.
• Man smoking cigarette and talking on cellphone while girlfriend carries garbage.
• Dog carrying trash bag in mouth.
• RARELY backseat of car or within closed trunk.

Technorati Tags: creative, taking out trash, trash, lazy people, creative people, The South

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• Wildlife a part of your every day. Sure, I realize that most cities have some sort of wildlife but, for the most part, it is contained and you don’t see much of it besides pigeons and rats. Every day, walking around or driving home from work I tend to see big birds that could mess your shit up if they so chose. Mack and I have also, on three separate occasions, saved turtles who are wandering in the road. And what else? One word: alligators.
• Spring. The weather is perfect right now. Not so humid and hot that you want to rip your skin off just to cool down your organs. It’s been in the high 70s, low 80s with manageable humidity. This is trapping Jon into a false sense of “I can handle this” right now. Wait until summer. But everything is in bloom here and I’m thoroughly enjoying the wild flowers everywhere. So much so that I started drifting into a random lane in looking at the flowers while driving. Mack will, of course, never let me live it down.
• Sunsets. I don’t remember too many sunsets growing up in Seattle. Before you get in a huff, northwest (and thus dislodging the moss that covers your body) I said “too many”. The ones I remember were of course beautiful. Phoenix, as well, had some stunning ones since nothing was really there to block it. The sunset touching the desert? Breathtaking. Florida sunsets, however, leave me stunned every night at the color palette that fills the sky and the unique view I have that day. I don’t think in our time here I have seen a single sunset that is the same. I do have an entire flickr set devoted to Florida skies after-all.
• People who over-share. I like to over-share. This, sometimes, drives Mack, friends, and family up the wall. In some regards, I feel no shame when I do open my mouth to give you input. Southern people, from what I have experienced, feel the same way. Last night, for example, we went to the grocery store and happened to walk by a man who was in a deep (and loud) conversation on his cell phone. Once his conversation was done, he turned to us and started giving us a blow-by-blow as to the background and the circumstances of the call and his opinion on the matters. He and I happened to go down the same aisle and he informed me that the other grocery store you could gets deals on all these items! Afterwards I informed Mack that I could be social when the need arises. Mack pointed out it wasn’t so much I was being social but being bludgeoned by that dude’s conversation.
• Warm beaches. Sure, I want to harpoon or strangle the beach bums and those who spend hours on the beach (GET A JOB). This is due primarily to the fact that these people have a major sense of entitlement. This extends, of course, to my work’s parking lot which the beach crowd feels they may use despite the signs saying “PRIVATE LOT” and “CARS WILL BE TOWED.” But if you take away the idiots that travel in mass to the beaches, I enjoy having warm beaches with sunshine, sand, and beautiful sun-kissed waves. Beaches in the northwest are typically cold, grey, with rocks instead of sand. While this did not hinder the childhood efforts of jumping in the frigid Strait of Juan de Fuca, it’s kind of nice to know if I jumped in these waters it’d be warm enough to really have to worry about sharks.
• Lower cost of living. I don’t know what it is about the west coast/areas that aren’t the south, but the cost of living there is kind of ridiculous. For a smaller two-bedroom apartment, Mack and I were paying about $300 more a month when we were living in Phoenix. At first, the lower cost of living made me suspicious like “What is wrong with this place?” and while I could draw some conclusions I’ll keep it on a positive note: lower-cost of living is nice. Especially in this economy.
• Space Launches. Do I honestly need to say more?
• History everywhere. Not saying Phoenix and Seattle doesn’t have history behind it but, at least where we are, they embrace it more fully and it is a part of your every day. We are about thirty minutes from St. Augustine, which is the oldest European occupied city in the United States. Plus: it has a giant cross! And fountain of youth! I also love being semi-close to Civil War battle grounds since I’m a history buff (and also weird).

Technorati Tags: the south, living in the south, florida, florida living, the sunshine state, spring, lists, positive living, things I like, history, southeast, first coast

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When I moved to Phoenix, to say I was surprised about the wild animals in Phoenix would be the understatement of the year. Yes, I get that it was a part of the “wild west” but, again, it was 2007 and from what I could see of the city there wasn’t much there to make me fear. My brother’s brother-in-law had a horrible scorpion problem at his house but the ignorant part of me figured I’d probably never really encounter anything out of the ordinary in my apartment while I lived there.

Until I found a giant spider in my apartment about a month after moving there.

At this time, I didn’t know Mack, and so didn’t have someone I could scream at while I hid on my bed whimpering and pointing (as I have done since we started dating [Mack's note: she does this about spiders, not about me]). I had to take care of the hideous abomination against mankind, before my stupid cat decided to eat it and potentially kill himself by the spiders wrath.

But, besides spiders, I never really ran into anything horribly nasty in my time in Phoenix. The only time I ran into a scorpion was while waiting outside, in line for the roller derby. I was about to lean back against a brick wall. Lucky for me, Mack noticed the baby scorpion (aka the ones to fear) on the wall, so I kept a respectful distance from that wall, as to not piss off the creature. While out driving on a few occasions, Mack and I encountered coyotes running around in business complexes near our apartment. Mack’s apartment there, before we moved in with each other, was cockroach central (due in no part to Mack but rather the shitty apartment complex) as well as the head quarters to the Kitty Mafia.

But that is a story for another time and another person to tell.

In moving to The South, aka more Georgia then Florida, I have been surprised by the sheer amount of nature out there that is out to kill me. Not only do we have man-eating bees the size of my eyeballs (carpenter bees) roaming around looking for fights, we also have the added joys of the cockroaches, lizards, and other nasty creepy crawling stuff that thrives in practically tropical environments. Also, the turtles. There are turtles everywhere and, as a result, on multiple occasions Mack and I have had to pull a U-turn and save their slow shells from getting pegged, because they were on the road.

As of this moment, here in Florida, it’s 83°F and 75% humidity. To a girl raised in the northwest this is almost Hell on earth.

“But Anne,” you, the reader, could argue, “just because you are disgusted by the creepy crawling creatures doesn’t mean that they are out to kill you!” True, reader, but did you not know that we have alligators here? That like to just chill in puddles? Also, did you know, that they can reach up to 35 mph if they set their minds to it? Luckily, the worst I have encountered of those unfriendly storm drain dwellers is, thus far, in the car as I drive by and cringe into myself and cry to Mack that it looked at me funny (to be read same as: he wants to eat me).

Don’t get me wrong, all you have to do it look at my flickr account to see I love being outdoors and photographing it, but storm drain ninja alligators? Not so much on my list of good times. Perhaps it’s just be being embittered that I am allergic to this state and have had more creepy crawling creatures crawling on me (in bed while trying to sleep… thanks Mack for knocking that ant off the ceiling so it could find its way to crawl up in my arm, in the dark) then should constitute legal.

I guess all I am saying to people thinking of visiting or moving to the south is this: the south bites back… or at least lurks in ditches waiting to stare at you with a hungry glint in its eyes.

Technorati Tags: the south, florida, nature, wildlife, wild animals, creepy crawlers, insects, carpenter bees, alligators, northern florida, guh, females hate bugs, disgusting

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But that is a whole other story.

The point is, I hated rain growing up. It ruined my plans to go outside and play in the woods and ride my bike around the neighborhood. Sure, at many points I kind of said “f–k it” and just went out in the rain. Late elementary, my best friend and I took to puddle hopping since the puddles in our neighborhood tended to reach a foot deep at times.

Can you imagine the splash that came off of those? I salivate at the thought.

By my senior year of high school, Hayley and I discovered we held a mutual rain-enjoyment in common: driving in the rain. Especially through puddles. No, we weren’t those jerks who purposely drove through puddles when pedestrians were around. We knew the best spots that had prime puddles that, after a few days of rain, were ripe for the drive-throughs. This tradition we kept up through high school, college, and up until I moved to Phoenix.

Upon moving to Arizona I quickly discovered that a) there was almost constant sunshine (which scared me) and b) people didn’t know how to f–king drive in the rain! When Mack and I first started exchanging emails it was something we laughed about in our emails: people’s inability to drive when it rained. Sure, Phoenix has shit for drainage and there are parking lots that will fill with over 6-feet of water. But seriously, people there will drive 5mph with their hazard lights and/or pull over to the side of the road and cry from the sheer horror of it all.

Mack and I? Yeah, we’d go racing! — I mean, drive responsibly through the rain soaked roads and see who could, within the law abiding speeds, get to the others apartment first. And no, we were never caught. Remember, I got my first speeding ticket here in Florida.

Whenever it rained in Phoenix, and now Jacksonville, Mack and I open the blinds in our apartment and thrive in the grey skies and drip-drop of the raindrops against the pavement outside. We adore loading up in his car and driving around watching people freaking out over WET STUFF FALLING FROM THE SKY! It’s totally amusing…

Until you want to go somewhere.

Mornings that I wake up and realize it is raining, I want to cry since I know what a headache my commute will be. People drive slow, have their lights on full-blast, and generally spazz as though they are the first people in humanity to experience this travesty against man-kind. WHY MUST YOU TOY WITH THEM SO?! I realize in Jacksonville, rain kind of dumps on your car as though you’re driving through a river or something but seriously? Driving in the rain isn’t brain surgery people.

It’s times like this I wish I had my Washington plates still on my car so people can follow me! Since I thrive in the rain fall.

Technorati Tags: weather, raining, Seattle, Florida, Washington, rain, bad drivers, driving in rain, stupid drivers, road rage, Phoenix, storming

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But I digress.

The launch was scheduled for 7:43p.m. EDT and is about two hours away from where we live so naturally around 2PM I started harassing Mack that it was time to go like, TEN HOURS AGO. After taking my word to heart he burned an audio book of “Four Hour Work Week” for the drive down and off we went, around 3PM. Unfortunately for him and that audio book, I was in a very Irish mood due to the Irish Festival the day before so the two-hour trip was spent listening to Flogging Molly which, frankly, put me in a damn fine mood. I didn’t even mind when we took the Kennedy Space Center exit that the lights were out and it was a cluster-f**k every-whichway. Mack was on it though and was like “HOLD ON” as he got back in the freeway north and took the exit towards the Space View Park which, as it turns out, EVERYONE had thought of before us. Oh yeah, and their dogs too.

It wouldn’t have been as bad if the launch had:

1. been on Wednesday since people work on weekdays
2. a late (at night) launch.

But c’est la vie and do you see a parking spot? Did you see that woman and what she is wearing? As we inched through the area, with the teeming masses of humanity sitting and walking slowly on every square inch of that park, we looked at each other and decided it might be best to go sit in a dumpster instead. At least there we might be alone and have our space. Luckily, before we resorted to that, we went through a neighborhood and saw a sign inviting those who wanted to watch the space launch to view it (for free!) from their backyard. Cautious, we parked to check out what the deal was and oh my, straight shot view of the launch pad from across the water and much better then we’d be able to do at the park.

We were happy campers. So happy that we didn’t let the kids on my left (who’s parents gave them cinnamon rolls, energy drinks, potato chips and wondered why their kids were on a sugar rush) annoy us too much.

From the patio behind us, where the owners and their friends were watching the launch, they yelled out the countdown and all fifty pairs of eyes on their lawn looked across the water and witnessed NASA’s brilliance at work:

You can see the rest of them at my flickr set for the launch.

Obviously, the launch was amazing, awe inspiring, the whole nine yards. The part that SUCKED, though, was trying to leave the town. You can tell even that, even though there is a “Space Viewing Park”, this town does not believe in having a good infrastructure to handle the multitude of tourists who come in for launches. We left directly after the launch about 7:55PM and managed to get back the I-95 freeway about 11PM (we stopped for food for about 15 minutes at around 10:30PM since I was getting sick to my stomach). This, of course, meant we were home by 1AM which SUCKED. Worth it, but SUCKED.

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• Red-lights don’t count for the first five-seconds. A few times a day, while I’m driving to and from work (and running errands), I see at least two people run red lights. Typically, it is that the light switches to yellow, and people about a mile away gun it. Mack and I learned quickly when the green light switches in your favor, don’t move for a few seconds, else you will get smashed (and most likely blamed).
• It is not necessary to signal when you merge, change lanes, or otherwise turn. I’ve only seen turn signals used on a handful of occasions here, and usually it is when they are already half-way in your lane (after NOT checking over their shoulder— they just start moving). I’ve used my horn more in eight months in Florida then my whole driving experience in Washington AND Arizona. I’m sorry Florida but I’m not a mindreader thus I can’t predict your actions as you drive that ton of death metal.
• Tail-gating is a socially acceptable (and expected) past-time. I admit I will tailgate. I’m not as bad as like, two inches away from the bumper at freeway speeds (which is very common here). Usually I will have about half a car length (to a car and a half length) between me and the car in front of me since, well, people will cut you off if you give them room to do it. Again see point above about them NOT looking and just merging as they weave through traffic. This is, unfortunately, an east-coast tendency I am well acquainted with due to one of my brothers having lived on the east coast the past twelve years. There are probably grip marks and foot imprints on my Mom’s car from her “oh shit” handling and “invisible breaking” all the time while he drives.
• There is no such thing as speed limit. Either go 10 miles above or below, NEVER ON. Yes, Florida has old people which tend to drive slower then the average driver. This in itself doesn’t particularly annoy me (unless I have somewhere to be within this lifetime). It’s when people ride my ass due to the slow person in front of me that will get my goat. Then they will swerve into the next lane (sans looking) and flip me the bird. Stay classy.
• Swerving through three lanes last minute is acceptable if there is enough room for half a car. If your exit is coming up next, please don’t drive until you’re almost past said exit, and swerve suddenly across the freeway to take the exit. It’s not cute and I’m sure if my car seat had buttons they’d be pinched off by now. I’ve seen delivery trucks do this (in front of me) all the time. I know they are paying attention to the road and exits since usually before hand they will be swerving lanes to go quickly then sudden, SWERVE, they exit.
• If you turn onto a road and someone is a mile plus away in that lane they will speed up and try to ride your ass for “cutting them off”. Another guilty behavior I do partake in, since people will pull off side roads in front of my car usually when I’m five feet away from them. However, if they are a mile plus down the road, I’ll let it slide since, well, there is no threat they’d hit my car. Just this morning I was pulling onto the main road from the side street and the car was at least a mile away and guns it doing 60mph (in a 40mph) to ride my bumper and show me what’s-what.
• Driving in the rain requires you to drive 5 miles per hour (this is also true in Phoenix). I’m probably biased since I learned to drive in the northwest so I’m used to hazardous driving conditions on a daily basis. I’ve hydroplaned so much I don’t even realize it’s really happening and just go with the flow. When it rains here (and Phoenix) people PANIC. I realize that there is excess oil on the road that will need time to wash away, but coming to a complete stop on the freeway because of that? It makes me wonder about your mental capabilities just a little.
• The worse times to drive: rush-hour (obviously) and Sunday morning (when the church crowd gets out). It makes sense about rush-hour since that is pretty much anywhere you live. My commute in Phoenix would be about thirty-five minutes without traffic and two-hours with. It sucked. Luckily my current commute goes against traffic so I’m never really experiencing it. However, a new experience is the Sunday morning (pardon the language) cluster f**k that happens. I guess it makes sense since I, technically, live in The Bible Belt but for that reason Mack and I avoid leaving the apartment on Sundays till at least 2PM.
• Driving down the wrong-way of a one-way street is socially acceptable and YOU are at fault for trying to drive correctly. When we were in Orlando this weekend for the Flogging Molly concert we were driving down a one-way and suddenly this woman swerves onto the road approaching us and glared at us for giving her an incredulous look. I get some one-ways choose themselves at random and aren’t clearly marked but in this instance it was very clearly marked and our lives were unfortunately in her bad-driving hands.
• The middle-finger is a favorite past-time and an excellent communication skill. This one I’m pretty well prepared for since one of my older brothers taught me how to flip the bird when I was four. Yes, my parents were thrilled (same with the other brother who was the first recipient of said gesture). I’m not judging (snort) Florida since I encountered this everywhere I’ve ever been within the United States, however, flipping the bird when I have right of way and you choose to go instead? Don’t mind when I pull a face at your raised middle finger as I narrowly avoid your law-breaking monster truck.
• Watch out for random pedestrians EVERYWHERE. They jump out in the dark and walk really slow… especially near beaches. I work by the beach, which brings out the best specimens of humanity otherwise known as beach bums. Especially as the weather warms up (and they steal all the parking spots) the best of the best crawl out of the wood work. Just the other day, I saw a tan, bleach-blonde girl not paying attention kind of give a “tehe” before she ran into traffic… and almost got pegged by cars from both directions. What does she do? Apologize and move out of the way? No. Stands there like a deer in the headlights before “tehe”-ing her way out of traffic. It’s not just the beach bums that dodge into traffic. People just like to randomly walk into the road since those “cross walk” and “legal” things just don’t bother them. In parking lots, sure, that is one thing (there, I am of the mentality of if you hit me, my student loans will be paid off by you), but in moving major traffic? Yeaaah. Also, jumping at our car like giselle on the safari while wearing black at night thus scaring Mack and I senseless? Priceless.
• Your big trucks aren’t tricking anyone: you are compensating. Yes, we all know what the big trucks represent for the male anatomy. Nowhere have I found the sheer size and girth of trucks then in The South. Phoenix, I admit, came close since in their hearts-of-hearts they all wish they were cowboys, but the sheer size and mass production of them will never outrank The South. When we went to the grocery store the other day, there was a truck so large it was sticking half way out of the spot (fully pulled forward) and I swear to you my head came up to the door handle (I’m 5’11″ by the way). Now, I’ll give The South the benefit of the doubt that they don’t all have small peckers but those trucks are not helping with the whole ‘NASCAR lovin’ redneck Southern’ stereotype a lot of the nation throws our way.

Technorati Tags: the south, florida, driving, driving in florida, stupid drivers, idiot drivers, bad driving, tailgating, traffic violations, rude

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Ah yes, but I never got specific with which part of The South I’m located in. See the wikipedia map? Yes, we’re located in northern Florida. It only takes about a 30-minute drive until we hit Georgia.

My Mom grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah as a practicing Mormon. My great-great grandmother (whom I was named after) traveled the Mormon trail and kept a diary (I happen to have a copy of said bound diary). When my Mom married she converted to my Dad’s religion. Growing up, religion never really had a role in my life, though. The only exposure I had with church was occasionally going with my friends and totally being lost when they talked about the Biblical stories and these things called “morals” (joking). During school, people assumed I was really religious since I was very, very quiet and pretty withdrawn. No offense intended, but this is what people assumed about me based on my character.

Part of me believed in God (or some divine being) but as I grew older, I found myself seeing the arguments from both sides and being undecided as to where I stand. Currently my stance is “I’m Agnostic”.

Before moving to The South, religion was never an issue. Since moving here, it almost feels like, sometimes, I’m being beaten over the head with the religious message. I accept people’s beliefs, just as I wish to have the same done to me. What I have a hard time accepting, especially since moving to The South, is the judgement I will receive while out doing chores. 

Take, for example, when I went to get my Florida license plates. This, in itself, was a long and painfully drawn out experience. Between having to take time off work to get it dealt with, insurance issues, and (oops) my Washington tabs running out, having my wisdom teeth removed gave me more pleasure than this experience. On my first visit to the wonderful employees of the DMV, I happened to go to the Queen Bee of the DMV. For some reason, she asked me if I had the same last name as Mack. Chuckling, I said no we are not married so we have different last names.

Puckered lips.

Judgement filled eyes that won’t look at me.

“Oh… I see.”

If this was an isolated instance, I’d understand. But it’s not. And it happens, unfortunately, fairly often. At the grocery store, pharmacy, wherever it comes up that me and my boyfriend are living in Mortal Sin with Different Last Names. In The South. In YOUR neighborhood. And yes, the reason why we have different last names is because we’re not married.

Lock up your house; me and my “loose” morals on are on a rampage!

According to the 2000 U.S. census:

“. . . the number of unmarried-partner households had increased to 5.5 million, of which 4.9 million consisted of partners of the opposite sex. In 1990, unmarried-partner households accounted for 3.5 percent of all households, while in Census 2000 they accounted for 5.2 percent of all households.” [page 7]

For being such a high number, and the whole unmarried partners living together being fairly commonplace today and on the rise… what’s with all the judgement?

I guess I just wish people would take a chill pill with the judgement and trying to “save me”. Many a conversation has been had around me about religion, church, etc, and while I’m totally chill with your beliefs, giving me the sideways look or making a point to have me listen? 

Not particularly cool.

I just wish, in my heart of hearts, that people could be accepting of me and my beliefs as I am of theirs. Though, that is an idea for a perfect world and this? This is by no means a perfect world.

Technorati Tags: religion, intolerance, the south, bible belt, living in sin, mortal sin, judgement, prejudice

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Don’t get me started on the nightmare that is jean shopping.

Within the shopping sphere of existence, however grocery shopping ranks as the number one thing I dislike, even above shoe shopping. Let me outline why I think getting my wisdom teeth out was more fun then grocery shopping (since, face it, with my wisdom teeth I was knocked out on all sorts of wonderful drugs and it was a one-time deal).

First, finding a parking space. I don’t know what about food shopping brings out people’s inner-caveman, but I have nearly been speared for a prime parking spot. People can be downright nasty for the prime parking locations (read: spot as close to the door as possible so their lazy asses don’t have to walk). My typical solution to this problem is Mack and I will drive near the front of the store and if we see a spot, cool, we’ll take it and gloat to those people who glare at taking their spot (since clearly they carved their initials into the hide of the parking spot). If not, we’ll walk. Those extra calories we’re burning? Yeah, we feel it and it feels good. 

Walking into the store, people swarm about, hustling and bustling about trying to go into and out of the store. If I want a shopping cart, there is a high likelihood that I will be rammed with a shopping cart from either direction. When I was living in Japan, I got used to being rammed with shopping carts by old people. Mack, my every loving boyfriend, will usually either glare people into submission as to not touch his woman or warn me two seconds before it happens.

Now that is love.

Typically when we get into the store, we start at the right side of the store and work our way left, going up and down the aisles on which we see something that is either a) of interest, or b) on our pathetic excuses of shopping lists. As we’re working our way down the aisles the following ALWAYS happens:

• Someone will be parked in the middle of the aisle. A lot of the time people will apologize for this while other times they will glare at you, beating you with their eye signals that they were there first and they are getting the $0.05 those pickles, damn it.
• There will always be a child screaming bloody murder. Granted, I don’t have kids, so who am I to judge? But if your child is screaming at the top of their lungs for more then five minutes, don’t you think you could take them outside? I know I don’t have kids so, again, I can’t really judge but 9 times out of 10 there is a child screaming and the parents are ignoring it (or letting is scream jumping up and down in the cart. Yes, we’ve seen it. No, it’s not helping our idea of The South). 
• There will always be the hot chick on the cellphone. She wants nothing to do with you and your mundane existence. She like totally needs her food (tic-tacs) and usually can been seen there after her work out so she’ll be in really small shorts and a tight shirt. The guys in the store will be drawn to her like moths to flames, even the married ones. “Of course honey, let me go get the bread on the other side of the store…”
• People like to cluster at the back of the store and be exactly where you want to be. Something about the back of the store draws people back there. Perhaps since that is where the meat is located? And our cave-man instincts demands flesh to eat. Raw. But people likes being back there and will sit and debate Every. Single. Item. while not. moving.
• Glacial pace sets the tone for how people move. When we are approaching the store, I think an announcement is blasted over the speakers letting people know we’re arriving and nothing pisses us off more then if you walk really slowly, preferably in front of us. Now, with older people I find it endless endearing. I just want to put old people in my pocket and protect them from the jerks of the world. If you’re not old and you’re just walking slow to be a jerk? Don’t mind if I ram you with my cart.

I think something else that makes grocery shopping a painful experience is that Mack and I just really suck at it. Mack is really non-committal when it comes to getting food. Usually I get responses of “Does that sound good?”, “I’m cool with whatever.” “I guess.” And “Whatever” when we are shopping together. Mack just doesn’t care what the heck we eat. Just tell him what to make and he’ll do it. With me, on the other hand, I’ll either know exactly what is wanted or I debate everything. This is most likely why Mack is non-committal since I give him so many choices he’s like “Whatever. Like she’ll listen to me anyway.”

This is probably why we let our apartment get down to stale crackers, expired milk, and popcorn before we finally venture forth for food. 

About ten minutes into shopping Mack and I will just get so fed up with people and just the idiocy of it all we’ll be like “Screw it, we’ll come back later” and leave with a lot less food than we should be getting.

Until grocery stores implement a) letting us carry around stick to stab our food selections since we have the cave-man mentality or b) put in bumper cars so I get legitimately ram people who bug me, I don’t think I’ll ever really enjoy the shopping experience. 

How do you handle grocery shopping? Do you like it?

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