A middle-aged moment of realization
May. 3rd, 2005 07:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninevirtuesHey all,
I woke up this morning laughing hysterically and having what it pleases me to call a middle-aged moment.
I am, at 35, middle aged, so I qualify. I would call some of you, to laugh hysterically and explain the moment... but for you, it's 4:30 AM (most of you). However much you might appreciate the joke when you were fully awake... you won't appreciate it right just now.
On to the Moment:
There is one young woman in my class who is Exceptionally Snotty. She's managed to be rude to just about everyone. If you are not in her favored clique, and you pass her in the hallway, she will not make eye contact with you-- you are beneath her notice. (She went to Elon for her undergraduate degree, and she belongs to the Pi Mu sorority, which is reputed to be the snottiest, most status-conscious and money-conscious sorority on campus. This goes a long way toward explaining her behavior-- effectively, she's been marinated in snotty exclusivity for four years.)
She's joined in this happy ignorance by a clique of 8-10 other classmates, some of whom went to Elon for their undergraduate degrees and some of whom did not. In any case, these people arrive at class perfectly dressed, blown out, made up. They snub people not in their group. Expensive clothes, bags, shoes, and cars are objects of intense interest.
And the joke: In the big city where I'm from, people fight to get luxury items like Manolo Blahnik shoes, Fendi and Kate Spade bags, Prada clothing. What are they fighting over and showing off here, in this tiny backwater Southern town?
A tote bag that looks suspiciously like a flowered diaper bag. That's right. A diaper bag.
All right, ladies and gentlemen. This brings you to my Moment: These people have been looking down on me (and, it took me a while to emerge from my misery and discover, the rest of my classmates) for a year and a half now. Everyone else is doing this on loans. They drive Hondas. They eat hot dogs. We are graduate students. Life is like that.
Me: I am.... not without resources. If I really WANTED stuff by prada, or coach, or fendi, or God help me, a flowered diaper bag-- I'd go buy it. I can outdress and outdrive them all, if I really want to. But hello.... I am not operating on Daddy's money. It is mine, and I have more sense than to spend it on stuff like that.
I woke up this morning laughing hysterically and having what it pleases me to call a middle-aged moment.
I am, at 35, middle aged, so I qualify. I would call some of you, to laugh hysterically and explain the moment... but for you, it's 4:30 AM (most of you). However much you might appreciate the joke when you were fully awake... you won't appreciate it right just now.
On to the Moment:
There is one young woman in my class who is Exceptionally Snotty. She's managed to be rude to just about everyone. If you are not in her favored clique, and you pass her in the hallway, she will not make eye contact with you-- you are beneath her notice. (She went to Elon for her undergraduate degree, and she belongs to the Pi Mu sorority, which is reputed to be the snottiest, most status-conscious and money-conscious sorority on campus. This goes a long way toward explaining her behavior-- effectively, she's been marinated in snotty exclusivity for four years.)
She's joined in this happy ignorance by a clique of 8-10 other classmates, some of whom went to Elon for their undergraduate degrees and some of whom did not. In any case, these people arrive at class perfectly dressed, blown out, made up. They snub people not in their group. Expensive clothes, bags, shoes, and cars are objects of intense interest.
And the joke: In the big city where I'm from, people fight to get luxury items like Manolo Blahnik shoes, Fendi and Kate Spade bags, Prada clothing. What are they fighting over and showing off here, in this tiny backwater Southern town?
A tote bag that looks suspiciously like a flowered diaper bag. That's right. A diaper bag.
All right, ladies and gentlemen. This brings you to my Moment: These people have been looking down on me (and, it took me a while to emerge from my misery and discover, the rest of my classmates) for a year and a half now. Everyone else is doing this on loans. They drive Hondas. They eat hot dogs. We are graduate students. Life is like that.
Me: I am.... not without resources. If I really WANTED stuff by prada, or coach, or fendi, or God help me, a flowered diaper bag-- I'd go buy it. I can outdress and outdrive them all, if I really want to. But hello.... I am not operating on Daddy's money. It is mine, and I have more sense than to spend it on stuff like that.
