Snob

My return to school this year has made me into... a snob. Or an anti-snob, which is in and of itself pretty snobby. There are too many snobs. Snob. Now it doesn't sound like a word. Snob snob snob.

It has sapped all of my time- well, not really. Combined with my general laziness and my slight lack of time, I have not blogged in some time. It took a bit of cajoling to win back my sponsor. They pay me tens of theoretical dollars. I can't forgo that money, my sirs and madams.

I am an anti-Abercrombie-&-Fitch snob, which means that if I ever stop wasting my time and start doing something worthwhile, they will NEVER sponsor me. I really hate the brand, even if it is begrudgingly well made, because it symbolizes everything I hate. Most of my childhood hatred can be summarized in Abercrombie & Fitch. It symbolizes vapidity to me, the idea of buying something just so you can have the tiny logo on your shirt pocket, bragging to everybody that you just paid $48 for a t-shirt that's so thin you'll pull holes in it by Week 5. Without the logo, the shirt would be costing a lot less. I hate it. I HATE IT.

I am, in general, a snob. But I am a Harry Potter snob almost more than anything.

I hate it when people only watch the movies and don't read the books (what's the point?), I hate it when people watch one movie and they declare themselves 'a fan' (the fact that you own five Hot Topic shirts with Rupert Grint's face on them is, while admirable, NOT directly related to you being a fan), and worst of all, I hate annoying Harry Potter fans who feel the need to rub their Harry Potter lovin' in everybody's faces. We get it, Irritating-Girl-in-My-Math-Class. You've read the books "forty-two times each! I SO wanna go!"

See if I care. Go on, ask me if I care.

NO.

But worst of all is:

"I can't wait to go! My friend got us tickets and everything! So which movie is it? Five?" (True story, by the way.)

AAARGH. Give ME the tickets!

I am also a clothes snob, but I am the worst kind of all- I am a hypocritical clothes snob. I care more about what other people wear than what I wear. Like K. (Remember K, my brother who I represent with a fake initial?) I care very much about what he wears, which makes him want to walk outside in a pair of shabby clown pants and only one suspender.

I wish I owned suspenders. But two, at least.

Quote for Thursday, November 18, 2010:

It is impossible, in our condition of Society, not to be sometimes a Snob.

-William Makepeace Thackeray

(http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/snob.html)

Muse for Today:

I am so tired that I cannot decide whether 'Thackeray' is an awful last name or a good one, and whether coupling it with 'Makepeace' makes it better or worse.

Smarter Than My Teacher

Those people at The Improbable Purchases Store agreed to sponsor Muse for a Day, so for every post I write, I get paid tens of theoretical dollars! (And no, 'tens' is not a typo for 'tons''. i dont duooe TYpos.)

So they tried to counter my overdose of Essence of Self-Esteem with a Humility Chaser, which is working rather well, but I still have the dregs of Too Much Self-Esteem swilling around in my bloodstream. Which explains this post somewhat, even though even if I wasn't all filled with Humility and Self-Esteem, would have made me proud.

But if I didn't have all of that Self-Esteem, I wouldn't blog about it.

Two Things I Know Better Than My Social Studies Teacher:

1. Contrary to what you told my class, Ares was the god of war, not Hermes. Why This is a Little Bit Excusable: To all of you aren't mythology people like I am, Hermes and Ares do sound a little bit the same.
2. Mona Lisa doesn't have eyebrows in the portrait. In da Vinci's time, it was fashionable for women to shave off their eyebrows completely. Why This is a Little Bit Excusable: My teacher isn't teaching us art.

It's a little bit upsetting when you're smarter than the people who are supposed to be teaching you. Now I can't trust anything my teacher has said!

I should be running the class!

No, I shouldn't. I will quit writing before I lose my sponsor.

I'm Not Self-Centered, I'm the Best

I've been reading all of my old posts, and I am the funniest and best person I know! I'm almost crying from my excellent humor! How did I become so riotous?

And since I know you all are always interested in news that has to do with me, I graced the employees of the local Improbable Purchases store with my most marvelous presence to inform them that they were totally at fault for my overdose of Essence of Self-Esteem, and that I was deeply insulted that I needed a tonic to appreciate how riveting I actually am. I want the Essence of Self-Esteem to be removed from my system.

After laughing for fifteen minutes (they could just sense the aura of my most striking humor), they said that if I 'came to terms with my own flaws', my self-esteem would sink back down to its normal level.

*scoffs* What flaws?

Whatever.

Read about me taking Essence of Self-Esteem here.

I'm the Most Humble and Intelligent Person Ever, and You are Lucky to Know Me

I bought some Essence of Self-Esteem at the local Improbable Purchases store, because some people think that I don't have enough of it. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be working. Oh, well. I'm sure you'll notice a change in my attitude over the next few posts.

On to the post.

A lot of things have happened to me in the last week.

School started.

I got my first ever cell phone.

Now, these two I had no control over. If I had any control over the education system, I wouldn't be here right now. And you would be working for me.

*OMINOUS CRASHES OF THUNDER AND LIGHTNING*

And a cell phone was not my choice either. I would prefer not to have one, actually, but telling this story would disclose too much personal information than I ever want to tell the Internet.

But the third thing is something which is a shame, shame, shame of mine.

I have two pairs of skinny jeans.

If you don't know me, you might find it difficult to understand why this upsets me. Well, because I've always thought that I was better than that. Better than falling for some trend so that I could be 'cool'.

I tormented myself with this for a while, and then several sprigs of reason sprouted into my mind.

1. Under NO circumstances, in any way in this lifetime will I EVER, EVER, EVER be considered cool, and one style of clothing is not going to make me this way. Really. Even if I wore a shirt that said 'I am cool" it would be a lie. (Actually, anyone who wears a shirt proclaiming that they are cool is automatically not cool.)
2. What is cool, anyway? It's an illusion. Pants cannot make someone cool. What are they without the pants? Pantless, that's what. Pantless and uncool and probably embarrassed because they aren't wearing any pants, and today was the day that they chose to wear their favorite Care-Bears underwear. So, being cool is actually embarrassing and painful. (If you stay in school, you can be as smart as me but not really.)
3. If I had bought these pants at the start of skinny jeans trend, then I would be a stupid trend follower. But I didn't. So there. (Cold comfort. And I find that comfort is best served with a side of chocolate and sympathy. Oh, self! You are so good at turning an already bad joke into a prolonged, obscure, worse one. You are so smart.)

I know there are people who follow fashion closely, and I'm not saying that they are idiots. I'm saying that 'tis more important to wear what you want to wear, even if it looks kind of awful, than to only follow what other people think is cool and not look like yourself at all.

Sometimes, I feel as though all of my moral principals are not common. That not everyone thinks the way I do.

And then I realize that I'm right, and I congratulate myself heartily and appreciate how lucky I am to know a person as smart as me.

Look at how humble I am in this post. Ah, that's one of the things I love most about myself.

*OMINOUS CRASHES OF THUNDER AND LIGHTNING*

I thought I turned my Ominous Crashes of Thunder and Lightning Machine (patent pending) off! Can't even trust myself anymore, no matter how unbelievable a prodigy I am.

Quote for Saturday, August 28, 2010:

I am the only good person for quotes anymore. Ha!

-New, Brimming-with-Confidence Me

Muse for Today:

Gasp! I may have overdosed on Essence of Self-Esteem! The people at the Improbable Store warned me about this! They called it... Overconfidence. They said that after overdosing Essence of Self-Esteem, there is no going back!

Well, who said that that's a bad thing? I'm so amazing, it's only right that I should appreciate what an intelligent, witty, superior, popular, funny, lovable, talented, fantastic, nimble, literate, good-smelling, enviable genius I am! Besides, I never do anything wrong, so my overdose of Essence of Self-Esteem was the fault of the people at the Improbable Purchases store for selling me too much of it. Ugh, corporate people. They'll never be like me, their brains are too diminutive to handle everything that I know!

Sorry this Muse is so long... I became so lost in my excellent word choice...

One More Thing

Oh. Right. Guess who hasn't read the Atlantis Complex yet? And guess who else is rubbing it in my face by blogging about it? All the time?

(This is, in case you hadn't noticed, a VERY SORE SUBJECT.)