There are these peculiar things that I don’t understand about myself. For example, I can’t stand it when people talk about yogurt. I don’t know why but it fills my whole being with disgust and remorse for the human condition. But why yogurt? I’m fine talking about ice cream, crab cakes, granola bars. Why yogurt? Also, I think that I have a mild version of misophonia because the sound of someone drinking water and gulping is sometimes completely unbearable to me. I don’t have an extreme case of this but it’s definitely there and I’ve often wondered if there is some weird relationship between this and writing since sound is so important to me—how I can’t write unless there’s complete silence—which is um hard when you have two children. Craig always compares me to Sei Shonagon. Craig’s position is that I pretend to be “down-to-earth” but my tastes and are, at heart, maddeningly aristocratic. What can I say!? I like good things! Have you read “Hateful Things”? I always teach this in my creative nonfiction class and (most) of the students find it very entertaining and funny. A few just think that she’s a hateful and bitchy snob, but that’s not the stance of the majority of the class.
“Indeed, one’s attachment to a man depends largely on the elegance of his leave-taking. When he jumps out of bed, scurries about the room, tightly fastens his trouser-sash, rolls up the sleeves of his Court cloak, over-robe, or hunting costume, stuffs his belongings into the breast of his robe and then briskly secures the outer sash — one really begins to hate him.”
“One is in a hurry to leave, but one’s visitor keeps chattering away. If it is someone of no importance, one can get rid of him by saying, “You must tell me all about it next time”; but, should it be the sort of visitor whose presence commands one’s best behavior, the situation is hateful indeed.”
“An admirer has come on a clandestine visit, but a dog catches sight of him and starts barking. One feels like killing the beast.”