I absolutely judge people. You think I'm being friendly when I shake your hand but really? TOTALLY JUDGING YOU. Oh yes.
This addiction to on-the-spot superficial character analysis has been given a full and unhealthy scope in my creative writing evening class. Why, there is even a section of the syllabus on character development so it is practically an assignment to UNFAIRLY JUDGE EVERYONE IN THE ROOM.
Take the two girls who normally sit to my left. They have long, dyed blond hair, never finish the assignments and wear more make-up than I would ever have the patience to put on. Or the ability. I THEREFORE JUDGE THEM AS BIMBOS. Plus, they look disconcertingly identical so I judge them as bimbos WHO I AM CREEPED OUT BY.
While I pack a couple of pens and a writing pad to come to class, the bimbos pack their boyfriends. One of these lover accessories likes his characters in a certain state; namely dead. No assignment of his is complete without a body count higher than the class attendance. This demise has to be achieved with at least 6 implements intent on demonstrating the meaning of mortality, all of which are wielded so inexpertly that the room became red with blood. Even when it is a cavernous ballroom. It swiftly became a personal rule to eat lightly before class. Then last week he vanished to join a full time program. When I heard this my eyes narrowed. Partly because I could have eaten dinner. Partly because it was late in the semester for a place to become available on a course. The feeling of unease was compounded by the fact he was obviously PLANNING A HOMICIDE. Or 50. I therefore judged him right there and then as AN AXE MURDERER.
At the back of the class sits a curvaceous young man with a portfolio case and over-grown hair. Originally he was silent. I instantly judged him as a SOCIAL MISFIT. Now though, he sits at the front of the class, interrupts to randomly agree with our teacher and points while he speaks. When finally asked to be quiet because someone else was reading he responded "It's ok, I've finished." I therefore changed my mind. He is now an EGOTISTICAL POINTY SOCIAL MISFIT.
Then there is the guy with the stubbly chin, shoulder length hair and tinted glasses. He feels the need to stop and add explanation of his work as he reads it which is CONFUSING. I judged him as intentionally cultivating the look of a writer and therefore TRYING TOO HARD. However, in several weeks the act hasn't slipped. So I graciously retracted my judgment. I now judge him as BEING ON DRUGS.
Finally, there is the girl who had short blond hair, has recently turned 30 and keeps a blog.
... indescribably I feel slightly freaked out by this.
This addiction to on-the-spot superficial character analysis has been given a full and unhealthy scope in my creative writing evening class. Why, there is even a section of the syllabus on character development so it is practically an assignment to UNFAIRLY JUDGE EVERYONE IN THE ROOM.
Take the two girls who normally sit to my left. They have long, dyed blond hair, never finish the assignments and wear more make-up than I would ever have the patience to put on. Or the ability. I THEREFORE JUDGE THEM AS BIMBOS. Plus, they look disconcertingly identical so I judge them as bimbos WHO I AM CREEPED OUT BY.
While I pack a couple of pens and a writing pad to come to class, the bimbos pack their boyfriends. One of these lover accessories likes his characters in a certain state; namely dead. No assignment of his is complete without a body count higher than the class attendance. This demise has to be achieved with at least 6 implements intent on demonstrating the meaning of mortality, all of which are wielded so inexpertly that the room became red with blood. Even when it is a cavernous ballroom. It swiftly became a personal rule to eat lightly before class. Then last week he vanished to join a full time program. When I heard this my eyes narrowed. Partly because I could have eaten dinner. Partly because it was late in the semester for a place to become available on a course. The feeling of unease was compounded by the fact he was obviously PLANNING A HOMICIDE. Or 50. I therefore judged him right there and then as AN AXE MURDERER.
At the back of the class sits a curvaceous young man with a portfolio case and over-grown hair. Originally he was silent. I instantly judged him as a SOCIAL MISFIT. Now though, he sits at the front of the class, interrupts to randomly agree with our teacher and points while he speaks. When finally asked to be quiet because someone else was reading he responded "It's ok, I've finished." I therefore changed my mind. He is now an EGOTISTICAL POINTY SOCIAL MISFIT.
Then there is the guy with the stubbly chin, shoulder length hair and tinted glasses. He feels the need to stop and add explanation of his work as he reads it which is CONFUSING. I judged him as intentionally cultivating the look of a writer and therefore TRYING TOO HARD. However, in several weeks the act hasn't slipped. So I graciously retracted my judgment. I now judge him as BEING ON DRUGS.
Finally, there is the girl who had short blond hair, has recently turned 30 and keeps a blog.
... indescribably I feel slightly freaked out by this.
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