On the weekend, Kal and I conversed. He’s recently single and back on the prowl. He mentioned that he was looking for someone who was “educated.” He believes that a piece of paper is indicative of intelligence.
I respectfully disagreed. One of my pet peeves is narrow-minded people who believe intelligence is defined by IQ. IQ encompasses only reasoning and ability, but there’s more to intelligence than that. It’s also about emotional, body, and moral intelligences.
I am a professional student. I’ve always been in school, full time or part time, since high school (14 years!). I don’t do it for the designations, but if I did, you could call me: Rani, MA (Leadership), BA (Applied Communications), Honours Cert. (Public Relations), Dip. Journalism. (All these pieces of papers are somewhere in a folder in my closet … I hope.)
And, one day, I will add PhD or LLB, heck maybe both. I do it for the challenge of multitasking responsibilities, meeting people who share similar interests, and, admittedly, writing papers. I do it because I’m good at it. We all get satisfaction from doing what we’re good at and avoiding challenges.
Every so often, I peek my head out of the books and reality sets in. It is scary how much common and street sense I lack, and how much life I’ve missed living.
Learning doesn’t happen just in the classroom. True smarts are attained by learning from life experiences, surroundings, and others.
Sure, designations and credentials do hold meaning, but if those who hold the letters can convey what those letters define, they can’t be all that intelligent.
When asked, Kal couldn’t elaborate on what a high level of education signified. That’s because school doesn’t teach you to learn about yourself, your values. You have to teach yourself that. If you rely on someone or a book to tell you what you should learn, you’re really not intelligent. You’re just a parrot.
People who lean on formal education/designations to give their life meaning are really just elitists. They need to better their EQ to learn why they bestow heavy importance on this.
Formal education is a character showpiece of motivation, drive, and ambition. I know many people who do not have letters and are much more successful (wealth, work-life balance, happiness, etc) than those with formal education/designation. They don’t hide behind letters. They let their actions to speak for their intelligence.
I felt like I was just in a vicious circle during the conversation. Anytime I expressed disagreement with or challenged Kal,I felt unresponsiveness. This is a good place to start the next post, another pet peeve irked during this conversation.
(1) Life is the best teacher.
(2) Actions speak. A piece of paper doesn’t.
(3) Tangible achievements are driven by (good and bad) character traits and values.
(4) Don’t be arrogant, okay?!
But, surprise! I’m not the 20 year old you remember to be.
Twice this weekend, I shocked people with how lame and uneventful my life is.
On Friday, I was at a dinner with a bunch of lovely ladies. We decided to coordinate the next gathering as a girl’s night out. It was suggested that I pick the place to go because “I would know.” Actually, I don’t.
Saturday evening, I received an invite to go for drinks. After I got up from my nap shortly after 7pm, I declined. A short text convo ensued and the person thought I was napping to prepare for a wild night out. Err, nope. The nap was to help me stay up long enough to clean my bathroom, and maybe catch an episode of Breaking Bad.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been out every weekend (days and nights) for social-ness (and rarely home weekday evenings). I just needed a night to decompress and reenergize…by myself.
Except for vacations, the last time I went to a nightclub (in Vancouver) was a few months ago, which was for a friend’s birthday. I do miss dancing though. Sometimes I reflect on what life would be like if I pursued go-go dancing. I really missed my calling.
Sure, in my early-mid 20’s, I lived for going out to bars and clubs. Now, I live for that one Friday or Saturday night where I can watch a Bollywood movie or fold my laundry. Maybe this is why I’m single.
I wish I liked people enough to be out-n-about more often and much later, but I don’t. I like me more. I am that old person I swore I’d be too cool to ever be.
People profile, yet can’t offer me an explanation on why they peg me to be a barstar at the age of 32. Though I don’t mind being profiled as whatever, the barstar profile irks me.
I’m a big girl now. Please see me for who I am today.
There’s more to life, well at least mine, than drinking, nightclubbing, and staying out late for the sake of staying out late. I spent my 20’s trying to impress others, trying to live up to expectations and projections, and trying to keep up in the fast lane. And, now I’ll spend my 30’s learning who I really am.
(1) The past isn’t the present or future, so leave it behind.
(3) Experiences don’t define you. Experiences shape you.
I don’t date often and that’s by choice (at least I like to think so), and because I’m just an idiot. I have a very bad judge of character when it comes to guys, and tend to misinterpret signs/intentions. It’s a terrible mess, really. I’ve had my fair share of bad dates.
Take this and add the do’s/don’ts and the should/shouldn’ts of dating, and it’s a disaster.
Recently, I had a first date. He decided we’d meet in Gastown to explore his new neighbourhood (I’m here often, though). I travelled 35minutes while he literally crossed the street to the Coffee Bar.
Shortly after sitting down, he says, “So, this is the plan. I need to go back to my place and plug in my phone, find a fan, and eat. I haven’t eaten.” I guess it’s not about me.
After we went to his apartment, we walk into a “market.” It was a block long of “vendors” who were re-selling items they (likely) found while dumpster diving or in someone’s backyard. I asked if he was looking for something specific, hoping to learn why we were perusing this stuff. He was just browsing.
The romance continued as we walked through the DTES, one of Canada’s poorest neighbourhoods, in the scorching heat. Don’t mind us; we’re just walking through without a positive, helpful purpose.
Then, we walked through Crab Park, and went for a bite to eat. I suggested Chill Winston because it has a super nice patio. Chill Winston was hosting a BBQ fundraiser on one side of the patio that Joe wanted to support. To enter, it was $20 for a burger and beer. I didn’t want a burger or a beer. But, hey, this isn’t about me.
He enters first, and pulls out a $20 bill. I pull out my visa (I never carry cash). I am told it is cash only. I note that I have to find a bank machine. Joe, then, offers to pay for my lunch. After lunch, we hugged and parted. We haven’t spoken since.
Conversation was so dry throughout the date. Joe just talked about himself. This wouldn’t have been a problem if he was interesting.
I shared this experience with a few male friends who all seemed to share the same thoughts. Walden seemed unimpressed and surprised that Joe didn’t come pick me up for the date, and didn’t initially pay for the date. Mark, also commented on Joe’s faux pas, and suggested that I shouldn’t be so passive on dates.
I don’t expect a guy to open my car door, or drive out to the suburbs to come pick me up just to drive back to the city for a date. In my world, I guess practically supersedes awesomeness. It would be great if the date was planned for somewhere closer to me, or at least half way between our homes.
Though it is validating to hear that friends felt that I wasn’t being picky about what may seem petty –ie date location, Joe’s to-do list, the food/bill, etc, I still need to be accountable for my experiences.
I must learn how to be assertive when dating, and not be too worried about being perceived as bitchy/whiney/golddigger-ish.
(1) I got a free lunch (haha).
(2) I really, really like my single life. It’s so simple and fun.