on character judgement.

I am a notoriously bad judge of character.

What I do is, take the input I get: the words you choose, the mannerisms you incorporate, the choices you make in my presence... I take your whole package and I spin it into something to which I get to react. Sounds normal, right?

This becomes a problem when you take into account my flair for fiction and sensationalist reporting. From which I derive my current outlook on life, which is: the storyteller will always be offended. And it's true. I can dish it out, but I can't take it.

Living like this isn't too hard, usually. It's not so bad to be offended. It gives me a reason to rant. Life is spicy with conflict. But sometimes I get irrationally upset and wind up overstepping friendly boundaries and losing the battle.

A recent conversation with an old friend went something like this:
K: My brother's theatre requirements include a class called Modern Irish Drama.
M: Really. You know, I've known you for 8 years. I could teach that class.

And that about sums it up.