Also, today in my Romanian class we had to make up a short paragraph about a mythological character. Well, I picked Achilles and Mate picked Ulysses.
When presenting, Mate confessed he hasn't read it, and I was confused and ashamed, too, because I thought I haven't either. Well, turns out, Ulysses is just another name for Odyssey which, naturally, I have studied in detail.
At some point, when Mate was making a sarcastic remark about my not watching TV, I couldn't restrain myself and told him that this is why I know who Ulysses is and he doesn't. What I meant, really, was that I go to Columbia, and he went to who-knows-where for undergrad and no matter his PhD status at Cornell now, he's not going to make up for it.
Over and over again I see how much does it matter where a person went for undergrad.
Fucking elitist self. What had gone so wrong with me that I think these things?