That’s MISTER Smarty-pants to You!
Yeap, I have an irrational paranoia of having to explaining myself to other people. I realize it is self-condemnation… I realize it is stupid… but I still hate having to explain myself. I am generally held prisoner by the questions of “what does that word mean?” “What are you trying to tell me?” Don’t ask me why I have such a low opinion of myself when this is asked of me… but I think it has something to do with the idea that I think I have failed to communicate.
I’ve had ingrained into me (thanks in large parts to my parents) the idea that unless who you are speeching to understands what you are saying, you fail to communicate– and communication is the entire point of speeching. Now… I was a horrible communicator growing up. If it entered my brain, it came out of my mouth. My scattered little-kid mind wasn’t that great at forming coherent thoughts. Arguably, I haven’t completely grown out of that yet. In light of that, it was very good that I was taught as I was.
Thanks to my education, I have a big vocabulary, a relatively good grasp on grammar (pardon my alliteration), and an appreciation for creative endeavors. You would think that all of those together would make for incredibly clear and accurate communication abilites. Unfortunately, tis not always so. Sometimes my large repetoire of multifarious verbiage tends to confuzzle the snot out of your “normal plebian” types. You know that your vocabulary is big when someone has to pull out an electronic dictionary when you are talking, and they can’t spell the word correctly. The “normal plebians” are not dumb… I just happen to know quite a bit. As one of my friends said, “Language is the primary antagonist of communication.”