Rejection sucks.  It doesn’t matter in what form.  There are varying degrees of rejection but the feeling is the same for each.  If a pop machine rejects your dollar or a suitable mate rejects your advances you leave hurt and mad.  I experienced rejection on several occasions recently.  Both times I should have not cared in the least, but I did.  I couldn’t believe I did, but I did.  Damn.
The first rejection came when I decided to write a little harmless comment about an article that I had read and happened to agree with.  The article was explaining some technical aspects of a particular stock I am interested in.  I knew I didn’t understand every last detail of the analysis in the article.  I don’t have a degree in economics.  I thought I knew enough to write a comment that sounded like I had a good grasp on the issue at hand, that I was an informed investor, and an easy going guy with a good sense of humor who wanted to participate in the discussion.  I was reeeeee-jected.  I posted my comment and logged off.  About an hour later I came back to the computer expecting to see additional comments about my comment.  Good ones telling me what a smart and informed fellow I was and what a nice sense of humor I have.  I even entertained the idea that others may have stood and applauded after they read my comment.  What I got was a many comments telling me to do things to myself that I’m not sure I’m capable of doing.  There may be gentlemen out there that can do what they were telling me to do, but without some kind of major augmentation, I would be unable to accomplish this task.  I logged off angry and hurt.  I should have known better.  Trying to sound like you really know something about something you do not is a recipe for disaster and rejection.  I wanted to leave another comment proving that I knew what I was talking about and thus leaving them ashamed for attacking me, but I stared at a blank comment box until I realized I didn’t know what I was talking about and anymore comments would only further prove that point.  Damn.
My second rejection came when I decided to give the online virtual world a try.  I ran across an ad for one and I thought it looked interesting enough to sign up.  I had no experience  in the virtual world.  I had never played any role playing games nor had I ever had an avatar, but I signed up.  There were a few things I didn’t know at first.  Here’s the really big one.  A person’s avatar is supposed to look like what you fantasize about looking like, not what you actually look like in the real world.  I spent a lot of time making my avatar look like me.  I dressed my avatar in old jeans, a long sleeve shirt western shirt, and  old cowboy boots.  I even found an old looking hat and put it on.  I was happy with it.  It looked like a slightly younger version of me.  Proudly my avatar went traversing the virtual world walking proud with my cartoon head held high.  This world looked really nice.  I saw some interesting looking avatars and decided to go over and strike up a conversation.  As I approached each avatar they would disappear.  It was as if the rapture was taking place in the virtual world.  The Jesus avatar was calling all the good little avatars to heaven as I approached.  If I did get close enough to someone to actually starting chatting, the moment I typed something they would disappear.  A virtual pariah I was.  I was being reeeee-jected en-masse.  I was hurt and mad.  How dare the virtual world reject me so coldly?  I was ready to give it up when I met some really nice people who pointed out the problem.  One of them even gave me an outfit to wear.  That was very nice.  The outfit was a little to metro-sexual for me but I got the idea.  Now my avatar looks like Carry Grant.  I am no longer getting reeeee-jected so quickly.  Now if I can get my avatar to learn everything about micro economics I’ll be ready to comment again.