Lack Wit.

If it were possible that there were people reading my blog who didn't know me in person, upon meeting me (which is not possible, because no one reads my blog anyway), I think they may be disappointed. I imagine myself in a movie like You've Got Mail or something, carrying on blissfully in some kind of electronic romance, and after the long-awaited-for meeting in person, great disillusionment resulting. There would be this idea of me that is not completely appropriate because it is not consistent with my absolute lameness in reality.

The other day in our Writing Fellows 300 course, I was spotlighted. We fill out a small questionnaire and then someone else gets up and reads it, and everyone else tries to figure out who it is. I was pretty self-satisfied with the way I had filled out the paper, honestly. I thought I was pretty funny. And sure enough, afterward, someone told me that they appreciated its (the spotlight's) wittiness. And with some degree of what seemed like surprise, she expressed her bafflement about who it could be.

Stumped them.

My basic hypothesis is that my writing is quite another thing from how I am in general. I don't like that. In fact, it's rather unfortunate--I want to be wittier in person. But somehow I'm only able to accomplish it on paper. . .as it were.