I'm at the Buckley household, Thanksgiving afternoon. I'm sitting in the living room with perhaps half a dozen people, including Terry, one of Seanie's brothers, and some a friend of Sean's mother. The friend had brought along her son and his girlfriend, both of whom are probably 19-20. The son has recently broken his arm in a skateboarding accident, so he's got a cast, thus earning him the nickname Cast-ee McGee in this journal entry.
We're making small talk when the following occurs:
Cast-ee McGee: I moved up to Sonoma over the summer for school.
Someone (probably Terry): So what are you studying up there?
Cast-ee McGee: Business Administration. I know it's not exciting, but it's very practical, and I'll be able to make a lot of money with it.
Someone (again, probably Terry): That's true.
Cast-ee McGee: At least it isn't a completely useless degree like art history or something stupid like that.
Me: ...**too surprised to say something**
Terry: ... **too busy w/ his kids to say something**
Everyone else in the Buckley family who was listening: ...
Cast-ee McGee: **blabbering on about something else, oblivious**
I feel like I should get a gold star for not snapping at the kid, "Hey! My degree may be art history but it's far from useless, seeing as you can't get into the career track I'm aiming for with another degree and especially not with a business administration degree, and also one should hopefully aim for more in life than mere money because that's a pretty shallow, hollow way to live." Instead I kept quiet, because it's Thanksgiving and Seanie wants me to be on good terms with everyone in his family.