guenievre: (lovers)
[personal profile] guenievre
It's funny how those words rhyme... funny how it feels like they're still synonyms, even after I think I don't have angst about being who I am and having the life I do anymore.

Why the angst? well, I got into another of those conversations at work - the ones that always leave me feeling like, well, a freak. See, every so often the topic of where N and I went to high school comes up. (In this case it was because someone had some lotion which smelled EXACTLY like the air freshener they used to use after dissections). Which, of course, because it's so out of the ordinary - not that many people leave home to go to boarding school at 16 - leads to questions of "how'd you get to go there? you must be really smart! what's your IQ?" etc etc. I don't think that the people who I end up having these questions with are being meanspirited about it, they're honestly curious and not really trying to be rude. And I'm not conversationally graceful enough to derail the conversation before it starts... and I'm just arrogant enough that I am not very good at downplaying the truth about my test scores and whatnot. (Not that I don't realize that the thrice-cursed scores really don't mean anything and wouldn't even really get me a cup of coffee).

In fact, I don't really recognize that the conversation has hit THAT path again until I'm back at my desk and wondering why I feel like a freak again. I used to get sucked into these conversations long before NCSSM, of course - beeing a Very Big Fish (scroll to 1997, my maiden name was Rehmann) in the Very Small Pond I grew up in will do that - if it wasn't my parents showing me off it was my teachers, and the natural reaction of my peers to that was in fact a very similar conversation - except, of course, it wasn't honest curiosity, it was venom pure and simple. (Or was it? looking back on things now I have problems even telling what was real and what was in my head in those days.) All I knew then was that I desperately didn't want to be different... but I was and there was nothing I could do about it. Geek=freak, end of story.

Now? Some days I'm good at flying my geek-pride flag high. The latest Survivor? of course I didn't watch it, I was too busy fighting/sewing/playing WarCrack. Others? well, I end up both embarrassed by my intelligence and by the fact I'm not doing anything more... significant with it.
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April 2011

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