Anti Book List

You know what random thought I had today? I’ll tell you. But you have to promise to remember that these are my opinions because it’s my blog. Got it? Good.

I thought about why does everyone talk about their favorite book? Oh you just have to read (blank)! It’s my favoriiiite. You’ll never guess the ending! Ok, ok I’ll tell you! It’s …

Which is great and fine. But have you ever met someone who hated the same person you did? How strong was your bond over the person you both hated? Like a bundle of sticks: unbreakable!

So, I’m going to tell you my 4 LEAST favorite books of all time, and you can thank me for it so that you can steer clear of them. You’re so welcome. It’s like anti good reads (which I’m not sure why no one has thought of that yet.)

4. The Last Days of Magic

I was literally shaking my head over this book the entire time I was reading it. It was a complete information dump with absolutely no plot and a terrible ending. I was expecting the best because it was about Irish folklore (my sweet spot) but it read more like a dictionary than a novel. Do not recommend.

3. Catcher in the Rye

– Who is this whiny kid and why do so many English teachers stand by him? Listen, if I wanted to hear someone curse and act childish, I’d watch home videos of myself. Is there anything else that I’m supposed to feel other than frustrated with this kid? Do not recommend.

2. Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone

– Listen, before you judge or grab a wand, go back and read it. I promise that it wasn’t as good as you thought it was. I actually had to see the movie in order to pick the book back up again when I started it for the first time. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but if there was a way to understand the whole series without the first book then I’d recommend that. But since there isn’t and the books eventually are awesome, I have to mark this one as recommend with reservations.

1. Where the Red Fern Grows

– Oh. My. God. Who let this book be read to children?! I read it in the fourth grade, for crying out loud! The kid in the story saves all his money to buy two hunting dogs and then THEY DIE. HORRIFICALLY. What lesson is this supposed to teach me again? Don’t work hard, kids! Whatever you buy will just die after awhile! Ugh. Do not recommend.

So what about you? What books do you hate?

I Hate This

I’m starting to resent this blog a little. 

(Don’t worry. I won’t go on a hiatus like I normally do. I’ll just complain about it. Right here.) 

Well, here’s the thing. It’s not because I have to crank out a post daily. And it’s not even because most nights I have writer’s block that nothing can cure. And it’s definitely not because I have so many ideas that I don’t know what to write first. 

It’s that I am forced to find a silver lining in my day. Just one. Because that’s what Bailey Dailey is all about. It’s about being out in the world and finding the good in it. 

And most days, I have to look really hard. I mean, really hard to find the good. And more than that, most days, I would really like to crank up some loud music and drown the rest of the world out, good or no. 

And so, I sort of hate this. I hate holding myself accountable to my own happiness. Because I’d much rather sulk and wallow. 

But I’m grateful for everyone that reads this blog. Because you all make me do it anyway. Even though I hate it a little. Even though it’s hard. Even though I’d much rather be writing Bailey tells it like it is or Bailey serves up cold harsh reality. 

But that’s not why I started this blog. I started it because I saw a need for it. I saw that people needed a little bit of light in their lives. They needed reminders about what’s good. They don’t need more sadness or anger or hatred. There’s enough of that. 

So, yes, even though I have a little sadness and anger and even hatred toward this blog sometimes, that’s only because you have to work hard if you want something good. And this blog? It’s the best part of me. 

And at the end of the day, I hope you read it because it’s the best part of you, too. 

What I Learned from Hating Taylor Swift

That’s right. I consider myself one of the original Taylor Swift haters. I am sipping on that haterade when it comes to T Swift. I’m seeing red when it comes to “Red.” And before you jump down my throat and try to defend America’s sweetheart, I think you should listen to what I have to say. You might like it.

Well, first, let’s clear the air. I originally just disliked Taylor Swift’s music. Repetitive lyrics and annoying hooks just aren’t my cup of tea. But I could avoid it. I could change the channel on the radio station. I could coexist in a world who absolutely freakin’ adored her.

But then she started to show up on my television and in my social media. And she was making money off of being awkward and angry. (That’s me! I can be awkward and angry better than anyone! Why aren’t thousands of people following my Instagram account?) And don’t get me started about what she said about my girl Nicki Minaj recently. Let’s just say it wasn’t cool on any level.

But I have to admit, she has made it harder for me to hate her. I started to hear how much she appreciated her fans and how she would go out of her way to meet them. I thought that was more than great; I thought it was awesome. And then she came out with “Bad Blood,” and I became obsessed with my first Taylor Swift song. She’s a master of those anthems that you can sing along to in the car, speeding down the highway, with the windows down and your hair flying into your mouth.

At this point, I was completely confused. It felt like my reality was unravelling, and I was having an identity crisis. It was one of those things that I built the core of my being around: I love flannel shirts, I’ve never had my nails done, and I hate Taylor Swift.

Yet, the point is, I learned something really important about hating people by hating Taylor Swift. I learned that even if you don’t know them, even if they are strangers and you think that you couldn’t hate anyone more, the truth is, you probably could. Because there will always be some characteristic or trait that you do like about them. And so really, there isn’t any such thing as hate when it comes to people you don’t really know. There’s just…distaste until proven better.

Now, I’m not buying a T Swift t-shirt any time soon. I’m not even going to buy her album. But I no longer want to send her to live with the Mars colony. Unless she tries to “white feminist” her way out of anything again.

I guess me and T don’t have “bad blood” anymore. (Oh my god, forgive me. That was awful, but I had to.)