I'm not a stupid person (although sometimes my actions make a lie of that statement). In fact, I would probably rate myself a bit ahead of the curve smarts-wise. But I am finally admitting, after decades of self-delusion, I'm no intellectual.
See my choice of reading material. Full of fang, fur, and stuff guaranteed to 'rot your brain'. Don't let the occasional nonfiction book fool you, they usually wind up on the bottom of the pile or it's a cookbook.
Couple of things which made me come to this admission. First, we have a couple of people whose conversations I can only generally nod at. WAY over my head. Really nice people, but I would be lost in the first couple of minutes once the conversation started. Kafka, the life of Jung and Freud, and discussions on life...please refill my coffee with a double shot of espresso please. Secondly, at one time I thought I would get a degree in English lit. But now, I really don't care to read 'classics' or 'great literature'. Give me buff bodies and gratuitous sex and I'm very happy.
What brought on this confession? I was reading my syllabus for the English 262 class I am taking this fall semester - World Literature and first on the list is Voltaire and Candide. Yes, I have heard of both and know a bit about Voltaire. Never read him though or at least that I remember. There are a couple of sections which peak my interest which concern Japanese literature. My only real exposure is manga, which isn't covered in this world lit class. Haiku is another section, but once again my lack of intellectual-ness comes forth. Haiku is nice. I have a good friend who adores haiku. Me - I'll take a bawdy limerick anytime.
So there. I am dropping the pretense that I am an intellectual. So pass me that paranormal romance!