(The Long Awaited) Something Like a Chameleon Parte Deux: Why Learning to be Properly Socialized Has Convinced Me That I am Innately Evil

Okay. So you did not hold me to it very long. I told you too. There's a good chance I would not have felt the compulsion to post today had it not been for the daily increasing salience of the threat of being dropped from April's blogroll. Also, I've more or less forgotten what I actually included in "Something Like a Chameleon." This post, therefore, might end up a mix of things, might segue with a complete lack of style and grace into new things that I think I'd like to tell you, dear readers.

And I'm spent. Maybe I'll continue this at work? No. I'll go rinse my bowl and get a pear, and then try again.

I rinsed my spoon as well. And contemplated putting away my iron. And noted that we should dump out the salt and pepper shakers because Joanne, possibly evil landlady, sanded the wall behind them while they were still sitting in their spot on the stove, probably filling them with gross toxic wall dust.

Okay, so why am I evil. Something about being an elitist bitch. Something about little moments of thinking I'm better than people. No, that's not even it. That I figured out without socializing. It's being able to turn on and off. To pretend that I am something that I am not, that I know I am not, fully aware that I am imitating the people around me only in the interest of extracting something from them. I can't quite identify what it is that I want, what I'm trying to get, but I know that it's something innocent and unsavoury all at once. Something that makes me think there's something deeply twisted and dangerous inside my mind.

I'd go on, but the mentor just called. Off to be dutiful. I'll tell you about it later.