10 June, 1997

Yeah, maybe I do have "caitiff" tattooed on my forehead, but you can't see it!

I'm beginning to think that you're born popular or unpopular, and that you give off some psychic vibration that keys other people in to what you are. I can't think of any other way to explain it. I mean, how the hell else can you explain the existence of cliques on the net?

I'm pissed. I'm hurt and I'm pissed. Mostly pissed. I sat down and wrote a really nice email to this girl. I told her I'd help her out after she'd asked for assistance with some project. As I sent off the email, I felt pretty good. Like I was doing my good deed, you know? She never replied. A week went by. Some other schmuckola piped up, and the chick handed her the job. She's popular; I'm not.

It wouldn't be so bad if the girl had sent me a note declining my offer to help. Just a little one-liner "no thanks." God, is that too much to ask? Is it really necessary to treat me like a pile of shit because you don't think I meet your standards? Blacklisters have feelings, too. Or, is that just too much of a Duh News Update for you?

It wouldn't be so bad if she could see and hear me, and thus pass judgement on me. But she can't! All she has are my words. Do they fucking vibrate? Let's get metafuckingphysical here, folks. Do these pages hum the ostracism tune, or what? Sounds silly, doesn't it? You're right. It does. Yet, this is what I've been chewing on for the last few days.

It wouldn't be so bad if it hadn't all transpired on a public forum. Have I told you how much I hate to be embarrassed? Have I ever mentioned that I can actually embarrass myself in front of myself only? Well, now I've told you.

She pulled three of the Big Four on me: Discourtesy; Blind Discrimination; Public Embarrassment. She might as well have thrown Lying in there and rounded out the "let's peeve gage to no end" game. Geez, why the hell not. She was on a roll.

Ah, well. She got three out of four. Harvey, let's tell the girl what she's won! A week's vacation to Anathema World, the infamous hot spot for rude popular people (is that redundant?).