ha. i know how you feel. who are they? where do they come from? what do they eat that makes them that way? Sometimes i'm jealous, sometimes i'm angry...usually a bit of both. and suspicious...it's oddly motivating in a way. sad, but motivating. blerg
Rosa, it's comforting to know you've had the same experience, based on the tone of your comment (suspicious, jealous angry:) Like you, I typically harness my fear and turn it into blind competitive rage (those weren't quite your words), but this semester, the kid actually broke out into some effin HEBREW. I almost threw my pen at him. If he's going to lace his readings of poetry with Biblical language, then I want some of the academic steroids he's taking!
So that was Murderous Rage that I was detecting from the Grown-Up corners of the room! (Present company excluded, thankfully!) Gee, I thought I was just paranoid. :)
Anyway, for the record, speaking for My People, we're sorry. (Speaking for myself, I'm sorry for any time I stepped on the toes of people who were working far harder than I ever cared to.) As far as where we come from, Rosa, well, *insert speech about bell curves, normal distribution, etc.* (I didn't never take no statistics.) Translation: weird stuff just happens sometimes. People never end up where you'd expect them to. Sometimes that means they end up sitting next to you.
And I have to say, Ms. Crazy, I was not an eyewitness to your undergraduate years, but am I to believe that you have not been on both sides of this particular fence? Just sayin' :)
Dedalus--your accusations are well founded and indeed, quite true. I am quite convinced that my animosity (though that is a strong word) is etched more deeply as a direct result of my previous status.
As Woody Allen says of Homer Simpson's fortune-cookie-writing skills, "He's like a young me! ...I should be in New York writing riddles on Popsicle sticks"
4 comments:
ha. i know how you feel. who are they? where do they come from? what do they eat that makes them that way? Sometimes i'm jealous, sometimes i'm angry...usually a bit of both. and suspicious...it's oddly motivating in a way. sad, but motivating. blerg
Rosa, it's comforting to know you've had the same experience, based on the tone of your comment (suspicious, jealous angry:) Like you, I typically harness my fear and turn it into blind competitive rage (those weren't quite your words), but this semester, the kid actually broke out into some effin HEBREW. I almost threw my pen at him. If he's going to lace his readings of poetry with Biblical language, then I want some of the academic steroids he's taking!
So that was Murderous Rage that I was detecting from the Grown-Up corners of the room! (Present company excluded, thankfully!) Gee, I thought I was just paranoid. :)
Anyway, for the record, speaking for My People, we're sorry. (Speaking for myself, I'm sorry for any time I stepped on the toes of people who were working far harder than I ever cared to.) As far as where we come from, Rosa, well, *insert speech about bell curves, normal distribution, etc.* (I didn't never take no statistics.) Translation: weird stuff just happens sometimes. People never end up where you'd expect them to. Sometimes that means they end up sitting next to you.
And I have to say, Ms. Crazy, I was not an eyewitness to your undergraduate years, but am I to believe that you have not been on both sides of this particular fence? Just sayin' :)
Dedalus--your accusations are well founded and indeed, quite true. I am quite convinced that my animosity (though that is a strong word) is etched more deeply as a direct result of my previous status.
As Woody Allen says of Homer Simpson's fortune-cookie-writing skills, "He's like a young me! ...I should be in New York writing riddles on Popsicle sticks"
forthcoming blog expounding on these issues.
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