7 2 OFF SUIT: Fine, fine, I’ll talk about them

by Staff

By Kristen Ace Nevarez, Senior Staff Columnist

I don’t talk about my feelings.

My ex-boyfriend says I’m a “bad communicator.” My mom says I’m just like my father. I say I don’t really like listening to anyone else talk about their feelings, and the feeling is probably mutual.

I don’t like to share. I blame it on being homeschooled. When you’ve spent 10 years not having to share the glue stick, it’s rough learning to share your innermost thoughts and emotions.

My mother recently told me if I keep all the negative things bottled inside I’ll snap and become bipolar, which sounded ridiculous at first. However, because she was right about the whole “study more Kristen or you’re going to get bad grades and go to a state school” thing, I decided I better listen to her.

I called my friend to talk about my feelings. Luckily he didn’t pick up, so I just left a voicemail about my truest and deepest passions.

OK. No. I didn’t.

It was only 20 seconds long and it went something like this: “Um, if you were Batman and I was a victim suspended above a vat of boiling liquid, this ‘leave a message and I will get back to you’ thing wouldn’t play out very well. But, uh, well — I’m not above a tub of acid … per se, but, you know, in the abstract concept of life aren’t we all? Anyway. That’s how I feel about your voicemail. So … there … I talked about my feelings. Bye.”

The next morning I got one text from him: “That doesn’t count.”

So to prevent future bi-polar-ness, I will talk about what I am feeling. Right now.


I hate that DC Comics have redone the Wonder Woman costume and now she looks like a space-age motorcyclist. Actually, I hate when any cartoon is revamped. Yeah, I’m talking to you “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time.” Who do you think you are? There are certain things that need to be respected and pizza-eating, surfer turtles are one of them.

I feel the same about board games. They ruined the new version of the “Life” board game. Now all the job options available if you don’t go to college are just as awesome as if you do go, and that just takes the morality right out of the game. If Glenn Beck is looking for something new to march on, I say go for the Mattel building.

I hate the end of “10 Things I Hate About You” where she recites the poem, which keeps running through my mind as I write this.

I hate when people misuse the words: semantics, metaphor, your, you’re, literally and love.

I hate when people condescendingly tell me they only use the word “love” when they really mean it so as not to diminish its value. I hate when those same people use the word “hate” to describe how much they dislike people weakening the true meaning of love.

I hate when people are vacuuming and they are too lazy to lift a chair to vacuum under it and just ram it. This is America. Do you think lethargic negligence is part of the Yankee work ethic? No.

I hate Tuesdays. Tuesdays are a horrible way to spend one-seventh of your life.

I hate when people actually write a full-disclosure biography of their lives in that Facebook bio box. Facebook is a place for secrets and stalking. And I hate that Facebook knows who I have a crush on and keeps showing his pictures in the “Photo Memories” sidebar. I hate that it’s so obvious Mark Zuckerberg figured it out and now he’s just baiting me.

I hate that I find myself relating to almost every P!nk song I hear. I hate people who cut the corners when making turns in Parking Structure 4. I hate when people ask questions in my theater history lecture just to prove they did the reading.

I hate that I haven’t slept in 22 hours. “But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

… Dang it Julia Stiles!

—Kristen Ace Nevarez is a theatre arts senior.

—This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.