Intelligence as Intimidation Factor

How can it tank so fast? Another woman chickens out of meeting me, saying,

"I didn't expect to like you this much, this fast....While it's true I am very intelligent, I am not really well read or informed on as many subjects as u and I don't want to feel less-than, from the start."

So i guess I'm supposed to pretend i don't know what i know, dumb myself down so as not to intimidate??? WTF?

Do i have to go to a fucking Mensa meeting to find a woman who is NOT intimidated by the fact that i have a brain and know how to use it? It's not like I'm Einstein for Harpy's sake.  I know my IQ is well above average (149)--but hell's bells! I'm also funny, playful, sincere, intuitive, understanding, affectionate, open, honest, ethical--and pretty damn good in bed, too......When did intelligence become Pariahville in this society?

With all the information out there available to anyone with a computer, anyone can learn. I don't have a Master's degree or a PhD, but I learn about everything that interests me, and even some things that don't, because i feel I should know about it. (And generally I share that knowledge in books I write, blogs I write, conversations I have, on Facebook, on Twitter and anywhere I else i think it might be beneficial to others). Though I've had 8 years of college, I am primarily self-educated.  I've cultivated the skill of conversation (or at least communication) with clarity-- and hopefully sometimes eloquence. 

Yes. I am pissed. I'm sure I won't stay that way, but right now I am. I resent being socially ostracized just because I'm smart. Socially and interpersonally, I always try to seek out all the highly intelligent people, but they are hard to find. They are perhaps hiding from those who are intimidated by them.

Intelligence as Intimidation Factor

Witty Segues: Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys

[this is a writing exercise I do, wherein I take a list of unrelated subjects and phrases in my files (or through suggestions from readers) and try to connect them in prose...and it's usually humorous. It also teaches you how to construct segues. The items in this list are, Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys.] so...here we go....


I am a pariah. I know this, though the usual response from my friends to this proclamation is a dismissive, "No you're not...you're just rare and wonderful." Like a good steak. So I'm only good for a food source.

One of my biggest fears is that I'm going to die alone in my home, and my cats will eat me because I am too dead to open their food cans. I have three (cats, not food cans...this is The Crazy Cat Lady Starter Kit). I might have a chance to avoid that fate, because one of my cats, Monkey, happens to be polydactyl--she has 22 fingers--to include thumbs. As in Opposable Thumbs. A higher life form. Who can, perhaps, manipulate things like can openers.

If I am lucky enough to avoid the death-by-cat-consumption, it's a distinct possibility that I might be ostracized by my community...I keep waiting for a bunch of torch-carrying village people to come get me...I don't mean VILLAGE PEOPLE...like [singing] Yyyyyyy--M--C--Aaaaaa. I don't know what those guys might carry. KY, perhaps [singing: Kaaaaaay---yyy-------] okay, not enough letters for that to fit the timing of the song.... Anyway, no, Not Village People, Villagers. Torch-carrying Villagers. Hillary Clinton said it takes a village. But nothing is said of the Villagers themselves. Do they all carry torches? Or just the ones who are intolerant pyromaniacs?

I have been guilty of intolerance myself, when it's warranted. But I don't pursue pariahs with a burning torch in my hand. I can live vicariously through books and movies. Though, perhaps my reticence to be part of the torching mob is because I don't much like horror movies. Like, Nightmare on the Village People Street. Must be about hate crimes, not sure.

I just finished reviewing that horror flick, The Descent, and I liked it in spite of its horribleness, though I didn't envy those women who had to defend themselves against subterranean carnivorous humanoids. I usually enjoy tamer fare. Like Sleepless in Seattle, or You've Got Mail.


Speaking of which, I just got some mail that made my day. It was a gadget called the Eroscillator. I've asked it to marry me. I told my best friend about it, but she wasn't quite clear what eroscillating might be. She said, "Is it like an oscillating heater?"

"Well, maybe more like an Oscillating Peter. But yeah, it does create some heat."


Oscillating Peter sounds like a Sundance film. 'Oscillating Peter...coming to a theater near you.'

I don't think I want an Oscillating Peter in a theater near me.

Witty Segues: Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys

Witty Segues: Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys

[this is a writing exercise I do, wherein I take a list of unrelated subjects and phrases in my files (or through suggestions from readers) and try to connect them in prose...and it's usually humorous. It also teaches you how to construct segues. The items in this list are, Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys.] so...here we go....


I am a pariah. I know this, though the usual response from my friends to this proclamation is a dismissive, "No you're not...you're just rare and wonderful." Like a good steak. So I'm only good for a food source.

One of my biggest fears is that I'm going to die alone in my home, and my cats will eat me because I am too dead to open their food cans. I have three (cats, not food cans...this is The Crazy Cat Lady Starter Kit). I might have a chance to avoid that fate, because one of my cats, Monkey, happens to be polydactyl--she has 22 fingers--to include thumbs. As in Opposable Thumbs. A higher life form. Who can, perhaps, manipulate things like can openers.

If I am lucky enough to avoid the death-by-cat-consumption, it's a distinct possibility that I might be ostracized by my community...I keep waiting for a bunch of torch-carrying village people to come get me...I don't mean VILLAGE PEOPLE...like [singing] Yyyyyyy--M--C--Aaaaaa. I don't know what those guys might carry. KY, perhaps [singing: Kaaaaaay---yyy-------] okay, not enough letters for that to fit the timing of the song.... Anyway, no, Not Village People, Villagers. Torch-carrying Villagers. Hillary Clinton said it takes a village. But nothing is said of the Villagers themselves. Do they all carry torches? Or just the ones who are intolerant pyromaniacs?

I have been guilty of intolerance myself, when it's warranted. But I don't pursue pariahs with a burning torch in my hand. I can live vicariously through books and movies. Though, perhaps my reticence to be part of the torching mob is because I don't much like horror movies. Like, Nightmare on the Village People Street. Must be about hate crimes, not sure.

I just finished reviewing that horror flick, The Descent, and I liked it in spite of its horribleness, though I didn't envy those women who had to defend themselves against subterranean carnivorous humanoids. I usually enjoy tamer fare. Like Sleepless in Seattle, or You've Got Mail.

Speaking of which, I just got some mail that made my day. It was a gadget called the Eroscillator. I've asked it to marry me. I told my best friend about it, but she wasn't quite clear what eroscillating might be. She said, "Is it like an oscillating heater?"

"Well, maybe more like an Oscillating Peter. But yeah, it does create some heat."

Oscillating Peter sounds like a Sundance film. 'Oscillating Peter...coming to a theater near you.'

I don't think I want an Oscillating Peter in a theater near me.

Witty Segues: Pariahs, Torches, Movies & Sex Toys