(diaryland) June 12, 2001 - 9:57 p.m.

I think I�m pretty much one of those know-it-all people. One of those people who, when they find out that you don�t know something, they will tell you all about it like you are some kind of dumbass who obviously needs a brain transplant. I hate the way I pretend to know everything. Sometimes it backfires, like the times when I�m really, really wrong but I pretend I�m still right.

So yesterday I resolved to turn over a new leaf. If someone didn�t know something, I wouldn�t tell them, I decided. If someone wanted to know something, I would tell them but I wouldn�t waffle on. I couldn�t have chosen a more inopportune time, really.

Before I explain, I should say that I live with at least one other know-it-all. It�s difficult. Don�t put two of them in the same house together, or they will fight until one of them catches fin rot and dies. They are a lot like Siamese Fighting fish, showing each other up violently all the time with their fancy things. And don�t put two know-it-alls in the same room together with Who Wants to Be a Millionaire on the telly, especially if one of them wants to stop their habit of being an annoying know-it-all. That would be me.

So, yes. We were watching Millionaire. The question was, �Where�s the Sistine Chapel?� Diane was yelling, �Florence, you idiot!� at the telly. I kept quiet. Really quiet. I wasn�t 100% sure it was Rome, but I was pretty sure Diane was wrong. But I said nothing.

And then the answer was Rome. I said nothing. Diane said, �Oh, well, my Mum went there, not me. How was I supposed to know when I�ve never been to Italy?� Typical know-it-all behaviour. Blaming Italy or your Mum for not letting you get the right answer. I said nothing. I let it slide.

But later on, it got worse. The question was, �What is the last line in the movie Gone With The Wind?� The guy who had to answer the question on the telly wasn�t sure yet.

Diane thought it was the �Frankly my dear, I don�t give a damn,� option. She said, �My God! You idiot! I haven�t even seen the movie but I still know the answer!� She went on and on about how dumb the dude on the telly was for not knowing.

I was dying inside. I had to say something. I said, quietly, �After all, tomorrow is another day.�

Diane said, �Yeah � can you imagine a southern american saying that? Hah!�

I thought, woo. Steady on. It�s the right answer. But I didn�t say it. I didn�t say, �Diane, you dumbass, the answer IS the tomorrow is another day one.� I just left it. Perhaps it would be fun to see her realise her amazingly complete wrongness. Mwa-hahahahaaaaaaa!

Ooh, careful. These were full-blown know-it-all thoughts.

And so, eventually, the guy picked �tomorrow is another day� and Diane called him stupid yet again and the guy on the telly got it right and she was terribly, terribly wrong. And then Diane said nothing and I said nothing. By being quiet, Diane�s strategy was to pretend that she�d got the answer right too and hopefully I�d forgotten about how she yelled at the telly. I did not scream, �I got it right, dickwad!� I did not do a booty dance. I went to look for my keys again.

I guess I�ve never been as bad as Diane because I don�t swear crazily at people for not knowing things and then discover that they�re right and I'm wrong. I usually only swear a little bit. But still, stopping being a know-it-all, no matter what extreme you are, is exactly like quitting crack. I don�t know why. It just is.

That was what Rosa at work might look like if she was a cartoon character.