I don't like stereotyping. In fact, I hate it. Not just witnessing it, but doing it. I exult when someone shatters all the preconceived notions about how they must appear or behave. A find it a moment of smug satisfaction, like I'm witnessing everything that's unpleasant being thwarted.

Today I finally had a class with a person I have observed for nigh on a year and a half now. She has a certain image, and consequently, her behaviour from no acquaintance could be pigeon-holed in a certain way. Stridently feminist, she is probably anti-traditional-domination in other ways as well, like anti-Western-superiority and so forth. She would probably read cyberpunk, possibly even role-play it. She would state her views loudly, firmly and probably take provocative bait if it was waved in front of her.

I had high hopes of seeing these standardised conceptions shattered. I (metaphorically) rubbed my hands together in gleeful anticipation. The reality was annoying and depressing. She was all those things. In spades. I feel small, bitter and twisted, and I don't really understand why. I just know that when people (in my mind, at least) simply sit on the behavioural laurels of stereotypes, it makes me quite angry.