Glass Half Full – Corinne Grant

Glass Half Full is an Invitation Only challenge extended to exceptional people in the business, science, entertainment, arts and housewife industries.
The actual challenge it to pinpoint something you hate, and write 5 positive points about it. It sounds hard, and it is hard. And not everyone can do it.
I can’t. Which is why I am inviting others to do it for me.
Like most things.

Corinne Grant is a comedian, writer, performer and student nurse drop-out. Her first book, “Lessons In Letting Go: Confessions of a Hoarder” will be in bookshops from September 27th. There are no pictures in the book. She also reads WoogsWorld so you know she is a top chick. And now she is going to share with us her point of view about something that gets on her grits. And why she loves it.

I hate people who sneeze without covering their mouths and noses. I admit that I am obsessive about this, to the point that I may be mentally un-hinged. I firmly believe that people who sneeze—spraying their spit and snot in a cloud of disease and foulness all over me—should be shot. No questions asked. Either that, or they should have to spend the rest of their lives wearing a replica of that mask that Hannibal Lecter wore in Silence of the Lambs.

Five reasons why I love people who sneeze without covering their mouths and noses.

1.It builds up my immune system. I’m not a mother, but if I was, I’d be the kind that let my kids eat dirt. If they could keep soil down, chances are they’d be able to handle my cooking as well. It would also mean that I could strap them to my back and go trekking through India without worrying about taking all those pesky antibiotics. If the cliché ‘what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger’ is true, then it should apply not only to babies eating dirt, but to me being covered in other people’s bird flu germs. Hopefully I am building up my immune system, whilst gaining an attractive mucus-based sheen at the same time.

2.People lose their dignity on planes. They fart, burp, cough and sneeze, seemingly without giving a damn about the people around them. It’s like they save up a week’s worth of bodily functions, just so they can let fly as they fly. Every time I don’t jump from my seat when someone sneezes and start running to the exit screaming “It’s the plague, the plaaaague!” I congratulate myself on being a ‘normal person’, or, at least managing to keep my mentalness to myself. Self-restraint is rare in my world, I need to celebrate the few moments of it I get.

3.I’m not particularly elegant. In fact, I’m the kind of person who buys a new outfit, puts it on, and immediately looks like I’ve crawled out of a dumpster. My idea of doing my hair is fixing my fringe and avoiding mirrors that might reveal to me what the back of my head looks like. The only reason I work in television is because they pay someone else to groom me. If I was left to my own devices, I’d get Jim’s Dog Washing to come around and hose me down once a week. So, when I am surrounded by people who are incapable of using tissues, or even putting a hand to their mouths when they sneeze, I feel smugly superior when I pull out a hanky and sneeze delicately and hygienically. It’s makes me feel like I’m Quentin Bryce.

4.In the same vein, I really love giving other people disapproving looks. Problem is, most of the time I am the one doing things that make other people look disapprovingly at me. Short-list: I sing along to my iPod on public transport, I am a ‘backwards walker’ in queues and constantly tread on the feet of the people behind me, I swear in front of children and I eat dim sims in poorly ventilated rooms. So, when the person sitting beside me on the tram sneezes without covering their mouth, it’s finally my turn to huff and roll my eyes and look down my nose at them—whilst yelling ‘dickhead’ through a mouthful of dim sim.

5.Apparently, the reason it’s impossible to sneeze with your eyes open is that the force of the sneeze would blow your eyeballs clean out of your head. I comfort myself on long plane trips, on public transport and in over-crowded lifts that there is always a chance, however slim, that the sneezing bum-hole beside me will be the first person to do it. I carry a camera with me at all times, just in case. I am, after all, a glass half-full kinda gal.