Ok, so Oprah has given women in the mid-west the "a-ha moment." The rest of use just come to our senses and are like, "Oh, ok. Cool." Then you go back to eating your taco or would have you.
So last night, I attended an alumni dinner at my alma mater, John Jay College of CJ. The requisite nostalgia set in upon the escalator ride past the library that I used to laboriously hate undergraduate students in for four days a week, that one fateful semester.
Anyways, Sue, my colleague and drinking committee comrade, and I participated in the necessary, albeit, haughty tones of complaint...how crappy some of our professors were, how terrible registration was, how good the cheese fries were, and how we had little to no sleep with what felt like nothing to show for.
But here I was, at this table with all these old, nerdy dudes working in NYC in professions, much like myself. And, I'll just say it, I felt at home. I heard half of what they were talking to me about because the wine was flowing and a graduate from the class of '75 was hopelessly searching out fellow graduates. But I heard enough to realize that, I know I'm nerd, but for reals, I'm like a neerrrdddd. I'm going to be that old dude at the table, asking the waitress to being me more wine, going to alumni dinners for the free chicken cacciatore and "networking" possibilities.
Is this an ego-massage? I guess so. But how good can you be without one every now and then. I challenge you to try it. You have the Joe's Three-Weeks to Get Your Ego Massaged challenge.
Report back.
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