Yesterday was a painful day.
I lost my flash drive. If you are a student your flash drive is a valuable item beyond finances because even if you had the cash to replace, you still lose research papers, articles, homework, reports, pirated copies of e-books that you have to read and never get again... uggg!
Second issue of pain was the Belize-Mexico Across the Board Cultural Symposium. I presented a research paper I did last semester during it. It was good. I revealed my passion to the world. I prepared nicely. I did the slides in Spanish and I spoke in English so I could fill my ten minute presentation to the fullest. Plus, I won't have to worry about forgot how to say something in Spanish (as I am prone to do). This was a handy cap however, because that meant I had no pointers, no graphics, not silly statics. Maybe that made my presentation better. I don't know. But the bottom line is, I spent 10 minutes presenting to teachers, students, diplomats, publishers, writers, all sorts of big cheeses. Did I feel edified in any way? Nope. In fact while I sat quietly for the 3 hours after my presentation while other "colleagues" presented I began to see through all the glorifying bore. Pompous floated into my head. This is all pompous!
I got an award out of it. I piece of think paper with some ink on it. It is smaller than a regular sized typing sheet. people clapped for me. I wonder why I wasted my time. Why didn't I just take the time out and do some other work. Why did I neglect my Anasi paper for this? I could have sent the day reading the Awakening or researching for a class project on Barbados. I should have finding all of the things that I lost when my flash drive disappeared.
I find it interesting, however, that some people thrive on pompousness. Pretense is important for them. I got this from my landlady this morning. I stay in the capital city on days I go to school with a older, long time family friend. She is a nice lady but very old fashioned. Today I don't have any class but I needed to come to school to find all things I lost on my flash drive and take some time out to blog. I was wearing the nicest most comfortable, old and worn pants. It is my favourite, and since I plan on just sitting on my bum all day working on the computer in the lab, I didn't think much about the stains and faded marks. Besides, they are comfy. The most comfy pants I own. So who really cares? Any one who would doesn't have a real life anyway.
Sort of like my friend going to the store in her pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt.
Unfortunately Landlady does care. She laughed at first. When she realized I was seriously going to school in THOSE pants she got mad. She asked me to change. I told her I didn't bring another pair this week, she dug in her closet and found me a pair of faded, silly fat old lady pants. They are strife and funny shaped. I laughed. These pants are properly gross. At least my pants have character.
I was going to rebel. I got mad. "The principle behind it!" I was going to preach. But then my heart had a check. What is the principle behind it? I say pants don't matter. I claim that pomposity disgust me. But then, would I be pompous? If pants don't really matter why make a big deal about her old lady pants? She is really trying to be nice. I think her views are twisted, but hey, at least she cares about me.
So to prove to myself that pants don't matter I am wearing old lady pants today.