I was unabashedly annoying from the ages of eight to twelve. I would spend birthdays, Christmas or anytime my parents would go into Midtown at the American Girl Doll Store. I would bring my dolls in their special carrying case and teach them about the city, not caring if anyone would overhear.
The original flagship store was three floors full of wonder and extremely expensive, tiny furniture. I would roam the aisles taking pictures with a digital camera and would talk to anyone who listened. I would also sit at the bookstore reading as much as I could on how to braid my dolls’ hair and what comb I should not use. Or I would dine at the café, learning the proper etiquette of having a full afternoon tea and memorizing what should be on the serving stand.
Perhaps this tangent explains my annoying tendencies. Although I annoy myself daily, I would not have it any other way. I wonder what it’s like to live life so miserably, with no joy or excitement. A world devoid of laughter and cheer. I cannot imagine what it is like to suppress emotion because it is too cringey.
I have never gotten over anything that has happened to me like the few strands of hair that never grew out from impulsive bangs after nearly a decade. I can never tell just one story as there is always something I forgot to mention. I only have two sides – silly goofy girl or political discourse addict. I spend hours at stores walking out empty handed or buying too much and then returning everything because I felt too guilty for getting nothing. I love giving nicknames and shortening words or phrases. Whenever I see or hear someone mention Harry Styles, I scream just like I did when I was 15. I am not even going to mention all the stupid things I have done for Timothée Chalamet.
It took almost six months into my freshman year to stop talking in stan twitter terminology after quarantine. I spend all of my disposable income on Iced Matcha Lattes with oat milk and I do not care if anyone thinks Matcha tastes like grass. Depending on what I am writing, the type of pen is crucial, nothing academic related gets done unless I have my uniball Onyx Rollerball, eco-fine point in 0.7mm black ink. I really like cow prints, but the spots must be small or it looks too costumey. I take every opportunity to rant about the evils of neo-liberalism, but Kendall Roy is still my babygirl.
All these quirks to everyone else’s irritation bring me so much amusement. I would much rather be annoying than have no personality. There is nothing wrong with having a little fun if you are not hurting anybody. I enjoy listening to a rant on something I did not know existed 10 minutes ago or defending terrible music because someone I know really likes it. Embrace the annoying because why would you listen to opinions that you do not respect anyways?
