when i was a loser…
You’re not like the other kids, my language-arts teacher Dr. Wasserman whispered. You’re special. She said this to an eleven-year-old who snuck into elementary school at six in the morning, carrying a bookbag bursting with dog-eared copies of paperbacks, simply to escape her house, just to read in quiet. She said this to a child who banged away at a Commodore 64 during recess in an effort to discover the myriad of ways in which one could create art out of keystrokes. To a child who took comfort in being alone, who couldn’t call a solitary person a friend. What was so special about a sixth grader who ate chicken nuggets and boiled string beans in bathroom stalls and empty classrooms? Who never had Carvel birthday parties replete with stacks of faux Cabbage Patch Kids, Menudo pins, and Glo Worm lunchboxes as gifts, and the requisite alcoholic clown. Who spent evenings fixated on Aaron Spelling soap operas, creating birthday cards out of construction paper for imaginary friends while boys beat-boxed to Slick Rick, spun records, and split slices with the girls they “sweated” (side note: I grew up in Brooklyn. Further side note: to “sweat” means to like, dig, moon over—wait, do people still say moon over?). Girls who had “tag” names like Coco, Sugar and Bunny. Saucy girls who shared clothes, smoked loosies, and spent endless hours on the phone analyzing the boys’ every movement while simultaneously badmouthing everyone who wasn’t part of their enviable circle.
Click here to read my first post for antisocial networking
August 5th, 2008 at 2:41 pm
felicia, just introducing myself. reader, lurker, another chick in the nabe. i bought your book to bring to the beach with me next week.
August 5th, 2008 at 6:01 pm
Alyssa,
Thanks for lurking & stopping by! Hope you enjoy SKY. Btw, your site is *fox*
Warmly, Felicia
August 6th, 2008 at 9:15 am
fox? i was/am too nerdy and unpopular to know what that means!