Okay, so I don't feel like such an idiot tonight. I went back, took a few more of those practice GRE tests, and kicked major ass. My few wrong answers, with the exception of straight guesses on analogies with words I didn't know, consisted of careless shit like me not paying attention to the question's directions or in fact not seeing the question at all because I somehow scrolled past it. And since, hopefully, the latter wouldn't happen during the test due to the pencil-and-paper format (though I recall having made a similar mistakes on a past test and having had to correct for the error by erasing and shifting all of my answers down one) and I'd be a little more attentive to the former difficulty during the actual exam, I think I'd do fairly well.

I still don't give a shit about returning to academia, though. It's interesting -- I know a few people who will be entering prestigious grad and law programs in the fall, and I'm jealous as all hell of them. Admittedly, a certain part of that consists of a "these people are no smarter than me and are quite probably, in several cases, less so; therefore, I should at least be there with them, if not instead of them" mentality, but I think (and hope, since this feeling makes me seem like less of an asshole) that the greater part of it is just that I don't want to be left behind and forgotten about or viewed as an inferior.

And maybe it just goes to show that I don't think that highly of them, or of academic achievers in general -- or maybe I don't think that highly of myself, since I think that they'd naturally come to this conclusion -- but I think that once they've gotten their advanced degrees, they'll look down on me and dissociate themselves from me completely, since I'm so far beneath them and can have nothing to offer them. It's happened before -- people with whom I was once close enough suddenly never write anymore, though that may also be because they're so busy. I still feel like I've been abandoned, like there's suddenly some rift between us I'll never be able to cross. I felt it this weekend with those two people I'll probably never see again -- they sat there talking about rooming issues for next year, their respective graduate programs, etc., and I sat there downing shot after shot of sake because I had nothing whatsoever to contribute. Everything I said seemed to be met with condescension and an air of scorn, like I was a lowly townie sitting nearby at the bar who kept trying, pitifully and with little success, to break into their conversation.

I am not an idiot. I do not take kindly to being treated like one, and I do not enjoy feeling like I'm being treated like one. These people will be revered and lauded for their supposed intelligence, and they'll look down on me -- even though they know very well that I am not a moron, even though they've called on me to help them at one point or another with their assignments. They'll believe themselves to be above me in every possible way, and they'll shun me completely. Either that, or I'll dissociate myself from them because I'll feel like an inferior, and my shame and insecurity will bar me from showing my face or speaking a word in their presence. I mean, what could I possibly have to contribute to the life of the girl with a doctorate degree from Yale? Not a thing! And I'll burn with this irrational jealousy, because they're pursuing something I ultimately have no desire to pursue -- advanced degrees and academic achievement -- for I know that, ultimately, possession of these things do not necessarily mean that one is any smarter or kinder or better; one might be more likely to improve oneself in those respects by reading in solitude and conversing with loved ones. And yet I've been conditioned to lust after these things and to covet them instinctively.

And yet, if you gave me the choice -- a full ride to Yale grad school to study any subject I wished or a glorious, memorable death (say, saving a toddler from being run down by a speeding trailer before being bowled over myself) -- I'd choose the latter without hesitation. In my heart of hearts, I really don't care to place Ph.D. after my name. You can "earn" such degrees with less than stellar grades, you know -- so what does it really mean? That you're smarter than everyone else? That you're better than everyone else? No -- just that you completed certain requirements (which, by the way, vary from university to university -- hell, I could get a doctorate online from some rinky-dink school with minimal effort) and were awarded the advanced degree as a result. Maybe I've watched too much anime and played too many video games, but I think I'd rather have the power to create giant energy balls with the strength of my spirit and blow up buildings and shit. I'd like to scale walls and shatter skylights and leap down and kill dozens of people in seconds flat while groovy techno music plays in the background. I don't even need to do it for real -- just cast me in a movie with lots of CGI effects and a stunt double and let me sit back later on and watch the screen and pretend that I was there, in the heart of the action, slashing and spraying blood everywhere and hitting arteries presicely at points in the song where a violent gush was most appropriate. Yeah, you liked that 180, didn't you? Anyway, I don't know what to do about it all.

Frank Miller style! Ja.