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Recipe for Disaster

I'm too smart for my own good, and it showed even when I was little. I was reading early and good at math and I caught the principal's eye. In 1st grade, it didn't take long before I was walking down the hall to join the 2nd graders for math. In 2nd grade, math time was different from 3rd, so my entire morning was in 3rd grade, afternoons in 2nd. This wasn't going to work forever, so halfway through 2nd grade I got turned into a 3rd grader full-time. Of course, this turned out to be around the time that the cliques start to form. So here I am, a year younger (and shorter) than everyone else in my grade. Talk about a target. With a few notable exceptions, I was classified a dork until high school. But as my reputation improved (being a reasonable guy and bench-pressing your weight help) and a few of the girls in my grade began to acknowledge my existence, I still remembered how they'd treated me like crap and so I stayed just as iconoclastic as I always had been.

So I waited until well into junior year before I would "test the water." My first two dates were unmitigated disasters, but at least they're mildly entertaining now, if tragic. Senior year spent two weeks as a rebound for a girl who went right back to her ex after me.

Looking back on that, getting to where I am now would've completely and utterly shocked me before I headed off to college.

- Pookah

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January 2011
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