Icy Stabs, the Reprise

Yet again I found myself in the front yard--minding my own business, extricating those varieties of wildflower often labeled as "weeds" in order to end their detraction from the more comely, non-native plants with which I am trying to replace them. Minding my own business...enhancing the overall aesthetic of my neighborhood...helping to prop up the value of local real estate...and again I am accosted by icy stabs, the pangs of bitter jealousy that have lately been assaulting my otherwise peaceful inner-self.

The dedicated subscribers to My Teeming Brain will doubtless remember my previous entry detailing the inner turmoil known as icy stabs. For the rest of you, you Johnny-come-latelys, you jump-on-the-bandwagons, you fickle readers complaning that my blog is two months behind, (you know who you are!), or for those who simply have poor memories: the "icy stab" is a nearly universal phenomenon in which an individual suffers from feelings of jealousy and inferiority, feelings originating from an actual lack of material success. These attacks, which can range from very mild and passing to accute and debilitating, are brought on by reminders of others' relative success (which are, therefore, reminders' of the icy-stabs-victem's relative failure). This term was coined by Ms. Sandra Tsing Loh, noted author, social commentator, radio personality, and deeply neurotic minor Los Angeles celebrity.

There I was, minding my own business and while listening to NPR, for my personal benefit, as well as the benefit of those who would have the pleasure of engaging my NPR-expanded mind in social intercourse. The World was being broadcast (as it is weekdays from 12-1pm); a correspondant in Bogotá began his piece on the elections which pushed more supporters of President Alvaro Uribe into Congress. Which Congress? Which President? Those of Colombia, the name of the seventh university to reject me from its graduate program in English literature. True, "Colombia" the country is only a homophone of "Columbia" the university, but when listening to the radio, who can make distinctions such as this? (Certainly not I, with my poor spelling! I had the hardest time finding a country called "Columbia," because I didn't know it differed in spelling from the university.)

Listening to NPR during the past few weeks, I have been beset by icy stabs. Since professors are often more available than other experts for radio interviews, they often constitute the main source of material for many NPR reports; many of these professors represent the various universities to which I have been denied admission thus far (UCLA, Cornell, Princeton, Yale, Stanford, Berkeley, ColUmbia, U. Chicago). Each time one of these schools (or its homophone) is menitoned on the air, I feel morose; I feel unwanted; I feel inferior; I feel...an icy stab.