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Like a Banana with a Disease

Kate W is a great writer, but an annoying person.  Check out her bio here.

When I first received this assignment to write about the making of mischief, my gut reaction was something to the effect of “oh, shit.” I have been called a lot of things in my time walking this earth, and I’ve thought many things of myself, but mischievous has never been one of them.

Imagine my surprise when I took to the dictionary to find the definition of the word.

Pronunciation: \ˈmis-chə-vəs, ˈmish-; ÷mis-ˈchē-vē-əs, mish-\
Function: adjective
Date: 14th century
1 : harmful, injurious <mischievous gossip>
2 a : able or tending to cause annoyance, trouble, or minor injury b : irresponsibly playful <mischievous behavior>

You see that there? Right there, entry 2 a? That’s me, you guys! I am tremendously gifted at causing annoyance! Seriously.

It started the very day I was born. I managed to annoy the hell out of my mom by not only trying to come out breech — resulting in the doctor having to jam his hand in there to flip me around — but having the audacity to weigh in at a whopping 9 pounds, 14 ½ ounces.

I was the thorn in my older brother’s side throughout my entire childhood and into adulthood. Following him wherever he went? Check. Getting him in trouble for teaching me the word “douchebag” by using it in front of him and my mom at the movie theater? Check. Mixing water with McDonald’s sweet and sour sauce and pouring it on his sheets before he stumbled into bed one drunken evening? Check.

In kindergarten I annoyed Mrs. W. with my inability to use scissors. In first grade I got Jane J.’s goat for many reasons, resulting in her deciding to spit in my face. In second grade my loud mouth was an obvious source of frustration for Vinny D. It got so bad that one day he punched both me and my Cabbage Patch Kid in the stomach. But that wasn’t the only use I got out of that particular Cabbage Patch Kid – I also used it to ruffle the feathers of my babysitter, an elderly gentleman named Howard, who strongly disapproved when I stuffed tissues up the doll’s handmade sweater to give her boobs. In fourth grade I wrote down all the wrong answers to a test that Tony B. was cheating off of, waited for him to turn in the paper, then erased all my wrong answers and filled in the right ones (mostly).

My ability to annoy had become pretty finely honed by the time I hit sixth grade. For three years, poor Danny W. walked around with a target on his back. I told him the wrong spelling of the word “drunkard” so he would lose the spelling bee and I would win. I kicked him hard in the shins in seventh grade after HE tried to annoy ME (can you believe that shiz?!)  by taking the lock from my locker and securing it to the bin under my chair. In eighth grade I said nothing when Mrs. H. berated him for humming in her science class. In truth, it was really me, having gotten Bette Midler’s “I Think It’s Going to Rain Today” stuck in my head. (What? “Beaches” is a great movie.)

I tried to tone it down a bit in high school, but some talents just can’t be held back. I was able to annoy Jane J. – you know, the girl from first grade – with my carpool driving skills and the fact that I didn’t always pick up my feet when I walked. Kevin M., a dear friend of mine now, seemed terribly irked by me freshman year. He once told me I had cat eyes, but that it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Gasp! I still wonder how I moved past such a heinous statement. I probably felt a lot better after Kevin told Jane J. that she looked like a banana with a disease while wearing a shirt that was not so pretty in his eyes.

College was a whole new ballgame with a whole new set of rules. And also? My powers of annoyance had grown exponentially since high school. Now I was able to annoy people without even talking to them! A girl that lived in my hall freshman year hated me on sight!  I felt almost magical.

At some point, I decided to move to Chicago from my home state of Connecticut. I went from living in a tiny town of fewer than 5,000 people to residing in the third-largest city in the country. With that came many instances of nettling people without even knowing it – let’s not even get into the poor elevated train etiquette I exhibited for the first few weeks I lived here. I don’t want to alienate the one person who’s still reading this.

These days I spend most of my time bugging my husband, co-workers, friends and family with too many questions and too many jokes made at their expense. And now, I’m lucky enough to share my ability with the lovely 30pov audience, too! Color me excited!

Me? Mischievous? Never would’ve thunk it, but I guess I can’t hide from the truth any longer.

14 responses to “Like a Banana with a Disease”

  1. Avatar angelatav says:

    God! Not the Cabbage Patch!

  2. […] October 14, 2009 · Leave a Comment Hi, you guys! Guess what? My first 30pov post is up! Check it out here! […]

  3. I’m not judging, but simply curious…why water and McDonald’s sweet ‘n’ sour sauce? One or the other wouldn’t do on its own? Too funny!

  4. Avatar Kate says:

    angelatav: Yes! The Cabbage Patch!
    Mr. Poopoopachu: Truthfully? I was going for a more urine-like consistency. The sauce, though the appropriate color, was too thick all by itself.

  5. Avatar lee lee says:

    I knew there was a {million} reasons I hired you… Welcome. Also a big welcome/open invitation to Kevin M., wherever he is!!!

  6. emmyem7 emmyem7 says:

    Oh dear god, this is fantastic. You have a gift. Can I just hang around & watch you in action?

  7. Avatar omawarisan says:

    God, your mischief is effortless, yet effective. I admire artistry like yours.

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Kate About Kate

Kate Wade has her very own office at work. It comes complete with a sink, refrigerator and a back door (escape route?), clearly its most important feature.

Read more by this author on 30POV .


December 2009
Season Finale
November 2009
{Seven Deadly} Sins
October 2009
Mischief Making
September 2009
Green Ethics
August 2009