2005-05-09 - 11:41 p.m.
So, in this elitist, academia-ruled world that we live in (rather, that I live in with my second-rate attempt at bettering myself via Bachelor's degrees), isn't it much easier to define ourselves by way of categories that we make up. I mean, I suppose it's better than allowing someone else to make them up, right? And we all look like better human beings for being so self-aware.
I don't listen to you when you speak. I'm much more interested in entertaining everyone, and my attention span is shorter than it should be. I'm a "self-amuser."
I hate all of the hipsters in my Modernism class that refer to readers of Nabokov in terms of "the naive" and "the sophisticated" (or "them" and "us"). Instead I spend that class making fun of Jackie Nosering in the back row for thinking she's above the the rest of the world while she's decided to accessorize with the most ridiculous handbag I've ever seen in my life. I know I'm better than her. I'm a "neo-senior-maxed-out-Clintonized-Reaganite."
I ditch my date to the junior prom, and let all her friends in on the punchline a month in advance. I'm a "dick."
I have this blog that I use to rip apart my ex-boyfriend who doesn't give a shit anymore and to yearn for my new boyfriend who does, but who will only comfort me for the next two months. I "see the world through poop-colored glasses."
I can't make my next car payment. I'm a "dirty yuppie."
I really do love it here. My hair just looked really crappy today.
