Ouch...

Gar, I've got to admit that I'm rather disappointed with you right now.

Did I ever do anything to make you look down on me? When we were talking every day and you were leaning on me, I was someone to respect. I was special to you; in fact, you said many times that I was everything to you. Sure, that wasn't healthy and we've grown out of it ... but does that give you any call to treat me as an inferior?

All this "during your youth" & Co. has really hurt me. Why does it never occur to you that I am the same age - and even slightly older - now as when you were telling me I was the only person who could ever understand you? Gareth, I can stand most things; and this you know. One thing I don't stand up well under is people I view as my dear friends treating me as an inferior.

Gareth, you're intelligent - I give you full marks for that - but we're on at least equal footing when it comes to scholastic achievements. At this rate, even if you go back to the same course and just work to finish it, I will graduate at the same time as you. You work ... well, no, I guess you don't, do you? You go over to the Ukraine (on funds provided you by others) to try to convince Jews - who, by your own description, are happy where they are - to move to Israel. Why? Because you're misapplying Old Testament prophecies which apply to the Babylonian captivity (and a couple others) to say that all Abraham's decendants should be in the Promised Land. Don't you READ the New Testament? You might as well pack up and go to Israel yourself, Gar; the verses you recite to people are as valid (?invalid?) for you as they are for anyone else.

Enough. I don't like this bitterness in myself. I'm upset because you wounded my pride; no, deeper then that. I'm upset because I feel like I've gone from being the most precious thing in the world to being the butt end of a bad joke. I hate that feeling. I don't like this superior attitude you've suddenly adopted. I recieve respect from the people around me. Should I want to point to concrete reasons, there are several by which I ought to command a measure of respect from you. The biggest of those is simple: I am (or at least was) your friend.

Hmm...

You know, once I get a life and actually have something to write about, I will have too many blogs. I should probably start thinking about what to do then.

*long sigh*

I'm thinking about taking a blue-collar job (Publix or something in that genre) as opposed to doing more transcription. The money would be considerably less there, but I am spending too much time on this comp. I'm really getting tired of it. Working at something like Publix would be a first for me in terms of a job where I don't need to wear office clothes and heels. I don't know how much I'm looking forward to it, but I should probably do this just for the experience. I've never worked a job like that before; never worked a cashier that wasn't at a conference, never been in any job that didn't command respect from all present, it's been a while since I wasn't the one in charge of everyone but the folks signing the checks or at least on the level of everyone else on my team. It will be strange to be treated like "everyone else" by my co-workers.

I guess that's what I always hated about the idea of working a blue-collar job: the sheer normalcy of it. All college students - and even high school kids - work these silly jobs over the summer. I didn't want to be like them. I suppose I viewed it as beneath my skill level; stupid and immature as that sounds. I ought to do this, even just because it is normal. If I started early enough, I'd still have time to do some white-collar work on the side & make good money. It would most likely do me good.

Besides, blue's always been one of my favorite colors.

NOTE: "guys" = "not mature enough to be 'men'"

Guys can be really annoying. Especially when they're trying to be cool. Is it possible to go outside anymore without being whistled, clicked, smooched, or yelled at?? I really don't mind polite attention, nor does anyone I know, but this junk makes me feel like a horse at auction.