The things that I hate

I took an improv class once.

On our very first day we had to stand up in front of everyone and rattle of a list of things we loved. The seated students were meant to cheer, loudly, in hearty approbation of the presenting student's list of loves. An accountant stood up and informed the class excitedly that she loved her border collie, and the class became giddy. A social worker awkwardly revealed that he loved beer. The other students roared, and bolstered, the man shared that he loved TV dinners, and the Toronto Maple Leafs, and AC/DC, and weddings, and snowboarding, redheads, Mountain Dew, fuzzy slippers and martinis. The other students went nuts.

I found the exercise difficult. I would have preferred instead to be asked to recite a list of things I hated instead. I wouldn't consider myself a hater necessarily, it's just that those feelings are just more accessible to me. If my mind had a desk, the things that I hate would sit in the top drawer.

"My feelings," I would start. "I hate my feelings and the voices in my head. The voices that insist and prattle and fill my veins with doubt. I also hate sharp cheddar and the taste of envelope glue. I hate obligation and thus I hate the fabric of most social interactions. I hate that my default mode is a combination of guilt and passive-aggression and fear. I hate grippy socks, and fingerless gloves, and I hate when people talk about cars or sports or music that I have not heard of. I hate my shriveled attention span and the cold, oh, how I hate the fucking cold. I hate the ocean and I hate the sound of the oboe. I hate snowboarding, and redheads, Mountain Dew, fuzzy slippers and martinis.

"I hate my proclivity to buy books that I will not read, and I hate when people walk four abreast on sidewalks and then slow to a crawl for seemingly no reason. I hate the practice of dentistry.

"I hate my most interesting acquaintances for they are the most selfish and demanding, but I hate the rest of my acquaintances also. I hate having to consider and empathize and sympathize and acknowledge other minds, and feeling this way, I hate my own selfishness, my thoughts, my hypocrisy, and thus, myself.

"Oh, and though I haven't quite made up my mind on the subject, I am sure I hate the cosmos too."

And at this point the class would look at each other bemused, and Ted, our instructor would surely lead us in another game of zip, zap, zop.