LET THE HATERS MAKE YOU GREATER

One of my best friends is 25 years younger than I am. Nata is brilliant, gorgeous, and funny AF. Her life is wildly different from mine, filled with dating, traveling and the kinds of experiences that come with being 30, flirty and fabulous. So, why is she friends with me?

The story of how we came to be is hilarious and inappropriate and one day we will share it with the world. Today is not that day.

What I can share is the moment I knew we were going to be BFFFs. (Best Fucking Friends Forever)

A few months into our burgeoning friendship, I texted her to vent about a situation so random it’s actually embarrassing to think about.

“Ugh, that’s annoying AF,” she replied. “I’ll put it on your Hate List.”

THE HATE LIST

The purpose of Zefu is to give zero fucks about the little annoyances of everyday life so they don’t suck the joy out of your existence.

The purpose of The Hate List is to identify the little annoyances of everyday life and to acknowledge their joy sucking power.

If Zefu Lisa is all peace and zen, Hate List Lisa has the patience of a gnat.

That’s the beauty of THL - it gives you permission

to be a petty asshole, which is absolutely my

favorite type of asshole to be.

IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU, BOO

The things on my Hate List are mine. Only mine. They literally have nothing to do with you. For example, the phrase “I love you to the moon and back” is on my Hate List. My dear friend has this on a beautiful hand-lettered sign in her home. I have never commented on her sign. I keep my hate to myself because my hate list has nothing to do with her. It's not my house; it's not her list.

Does it hurt her feelings that I hate that phrase? I hope not. There are things I absolutely love (Crocs) that appear on The Hate Lists of my closest friends. It's like coconut - some people love it (me), some people hate it (Beth). It does not bother me that Beth hates coconut. It has nothing to do with me. It just is.

Haters are speaking their truth, not yours

Personally, I don’t have actual people on my Hate List, but some of my friends have listed football coaches, political figures, actors, or one of the 8 men who own the same wealth as the 3.6 billion people who make up the poorest half of humanity.

The Hate List is incredibly personal and absolutely not for me to judge.

That being said, if your list has words like Jews, Blacks, or Queers:

Fuck right off.
You are a raging asshole.
You clearly don't understand the concept of The Hate List.
Seriously, Fuck. Right. Off.

Just so we're clear, if you hate someone based on where they were born, the color of their skin, who they love or how they worship - seriously, go fuck yourself.

If you want to hate Swifties, Disney Adults, Patriot's Fans - have at it. Not everyone will get it, it's your list.

ZEN, ZEFU, & THE HATING GAME

I have tried meditating numerous times in my life. I bought a special pillow to elevate my hips above my knees as I sit criss-cross applesauce. I have played new age music with bells, flutes and chimes. I’ve tried white noise, rain sounds and silence. I have kept my eyes closed and I have stared intently at a candle flame. None of these things have made meditating easy or even doable for me.

My brain is the problem.

“Clear your mind”, they say. “Quiet your thoughts”, they say. If a thought comes unbidden into your mind, “acknowledge and release it”, they say. "Bullshit," I say.

Never in the history of ever has my brain been clear or quiet, so the chances of me being able to acknowledge and release are slim. God knows I have tried, and if God wanted me to meditate he wouldn’t have blessed me with ADHD.

The beauty of The Hate List is that for the first time in my life I’m able to acknowledge and release. There is not one thing on my Hate List that is worth the energy required to hate it, because every item on my list is ridiculous.

By listing it, I can acknowledge the Fu I’m wasting.

And just like that, I can let that shit go.

The Hate List is a Fu pass. If it’s on the list, you don’t have to fight the need to give it Fu. You don’t have to think about it, dwell on it or talk yourself out of it. You certainly don’t have to feel guilty about it. You can acknowledge and release. Because if it’s on your list, it just is.

Love on an elevator, Hate on an escalator

I have lived in Pittsburgh for 26 years, and in that time I have gone to Kennywood Park countless times. Every time I have parked in upper level parking, and every effing time the escalator to the lower level has been broken.

Never have I ever been on that escalator and had it deliver me to my destination with no effort on my part.

Ever.

All those years ago, I texted Nata to complain about how much I hate climbing/descending non-working escalators. And Nata put that on a Hate List for me.

And the rest, as they say, is history.