Can't seem to find my smarty pants

I tend to feel that I am somewhat lacking in the intelligence department, not to be confused with the Department of Intelligence, in which case I am severely lacking (ba-dum ching!). The truth is, I haven't gone to college. I was set to, but things kind of fell apart and I haven't found my way back. Yet. I realize there are plenty of people who go back to school in their 30s. Hell, there are people who get to class in their 70s! And I'm fully aware that there are individuals walking around out there with doctorates who are complete morons. My not having a degree doesn't usually bother me, but sometimes I feel slitely stoopid, you know?

Yesterday I was catching up with a close friend. I told him about my new fascination with glasses and how I secretly long to be a sexy librarian, that I feel like I need to step up my game in the kitchen now that people on Google+ can see my food pics (especially since my favorite vegan blogger is aware of my existence), and about my mission to create the ultimate Christmas music collection (I'm almost finished, yay!). He was pleasantly supportive of these things, but I suddenly felt shallow and selfish. I tried to steer the conversation to even ground, bringing up video games, which he loves. We're both looking forward to the new Assassin's Creed game, Revelations:


I don't actually play video games, I just get a figurative hard-on for Ezio Auditore. *rawr* Still, the conversation felt like a mountain of fluff. For some reason, I felt compelled to mention this.

"My hobbies are stupid," I said. "Not to you they aren't," he said. This didn't make me feel any better. When I went to bed last night I was still bothered. I decided to read the New York Times on my phone. I read about Obama being a centrist when it comes to the economy (or whatever), which made me angry, and I went to sleep feeling both stupid AND pissed off.

Today I began reading "The Second Sex" by Simone de Beauvoir. This is a nice change from my usual romance novels. I need to branch out more. A few years ago, on a whim, I borrowed Michio Kaku's "Einstein's Cosmos: How Albert Einstein's Vision Transformed Our Understanding of Space and Time (Great Discoveries)" from the library and I really enjoyed it. I love theoretical physics. And I love nature documentaries. So maybe I'm not so dumb after all.

And even if I were, would that make me less of a person?

We have a female cat named Squee. Before I continue, I'd like to point out that I named her this BEFORE the word "squee" became an exclamation for all things cute and exciting. I actually named her after the comic book character who lived next to Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (proof). Anyway, Squee is quite possibly the dumbest feline I've ever met, but she is also the sweetest. She has a lovely personality, and while I occasionally chuckle at her reasoning skills, I don't think any less of her for them. Much. Ha!

Who? Me?
I think a little extra learnin' would make me feel better. Not to keep others from judging me, but just for myself. And maybe I'm not so bad off. It's not like I sit around eating potting soil or anything.

I grew out of that habit years ago.