This is exactly why I didn’t get into politics. This, and the fact that I hate politics.
Yesterday, there was an “incident” surrounding my P-ness post.
It happened on facebook. I’d posted a link to my post, and after a normal comment or two, I saw this:
First, I think it’s important to be up-front. Steven Tersigni, my cousin, did have a P-ness incident very similar to mine, and he did tell me about it about six months ago. This does not change the fact that I had my very own P-ness incident in front of a women’s church group while giving a workshop on marriage in which I had just made reference to “sex” and someone “wanting to have sex.” (In fact, it occurs to me that his implantation of the idea into my subconscious (a la Inception) might have caused said incident. Thanks a lot, Steven!)
Second, I think it’s important to note that in his user-photo for facebook Steven has his hands wrapped around his wife’s neck. Here’s a closer, and thus grainier, view:
|The Happy Couple!|
It should come as no surprise then that when I told a story that was very similar to something that he’d told me had happened to him half a year ago, instead of laughing at the commonality, Mr. Tersigni opted to accuse me of plagiarism.
Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing, Steven. I can tell that you feel threatened by me and my illustrious career as a mental health therapist. And you should. Med school, shmed school. I’m already DONE with my (far less demanding and and far less marketable) degree. How do you like THEM apples?
In response to his comment, I, with all the love and honor one cousin can have for another, said:
@Steven–Oh man! I really, really wished I remembered what you are talking about, because that could have been very helpful.
Now, there was a grammatical issue with this reply. I used the past tense of wish, or “wished,” which, I’ll admit, renders the comment nearly incomprehensible. Instead, I should have said “I really, really wish I’d remembered.” Doing so would have given the sentence that “this sentence actually communicates a useful thought” charm sentences really ought to have.
But could Steven just leave that alone? NO, he had to insult this former English teacher further by having the audacity to misunderstand a completely misleading sentence that I myself could barely understand when I read it again. Thanks a lot Steven! Remember this moment when you need a therapy referral because you’re so rich as a doctor that you lose all moral grounding and your mental health deteriorates!
Instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt and assuming I’m illiterate, he chose to believe I was challenging whether or not his P-ness incident, or our conversation about it, had actually occurred, because then he replied with a copy of the chat in which our conversation took place.
March 24 at 10:57pm ·
Yeah. First of all, did anybody even understand what he just said? The superscript of the molecular WHAT THE CRAP ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???
Second, at the onset of his character assassination, he said our chat occurred in February, but as you can plainly see, it was actually March. NICE. Like I really want a doctor working on me who can’t even remember the exact date upon which a vague, peripheral-verging-on-completely-unnoticeable Google chat conversation with a cousin took place. How did you even GET into med school, your excellent MCAT scores, good grades, and one fantastic letter of intent edited by yours truly notwithstanding??
Anyway, by this point, my patience had worn thin. Here was my curt reply:
@Steven–Don’t misunderstand–I remember what you’re talking about, but I really wish I’d remembered it about two seconds before the phrase came spilling out of my mouth… Could have been very, very helpful.
C’est la vie.
It was pretty much a veiled attempt to say:
I love you, cousin. Can’t we just be friends? Why do you insist on persecuting me?
His reply? After all he put me through? After the shame, and the self-reflection, the self-doubt and hours of looking up copyright laws pertaining to g-chats? And after the massive study I conducted (read: sample size of four) which was randomized (read: consisted of my wife and three children under the age of five) which clearly indicated that 1 out of every 4 people has had her very own P-ness incident when she was a teenager? Do you know what he said to me?
Here it is:
Yeah, Steven. Don’t deny it. You were really ashamed.
Maybe it’s my sense of humor you’re jealous of. Maybe that’s why you are attacking me.
Maybe it’s this blog.
Well, Mr. Med School, I own that. You can’t have it. So why don’t you just stick with your “MCAT Classes” and your “molecular biology” and your “job that will earn hundreds of thousands of dollars more a year than mine ever will.”
Leave the writing of “humorous”-blog-posts-that-are-read-by-approximately-nine-people-who-glance-at-them-cursorily-with-a-grimace-of-pity to me.
Oh, and by the way, my P-ness is bigger than your P-ness.*
(Was that joke too much? I couldn’t resist. I’m a horrible person.)
*Lest you think me a beast, I refer to the fact that my Perceiving score on the Meyers Briggs Personality Sorter is numerically larger than the superscript indicating the P character of Steven’s soul, which is now so low it has deteriorated our bond.
**This post was published with the permission of Steven Alan Tersigni, and his subsidiaries. No actual familial relationships were harmed during the creation of this post nor in the events leading up to its inception. No, I don’t mean Inception the movie. I’m referring to the impetus of these writings, idiot.**