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It is often said that one's high school years are to be the best years of a young person's life. I suppose that is true for many. As for myself, however, if high school is as good as it gets, then I am in serious trouble. If there were stairs to climb, I tripped on them. If there were books to carry, I dropped them. If there were students to be made fun of, I was the one that was tortured. In other words, I was a true high school loser. Oh, how well I embodied the dreaded teenage nightmare of being a nerd! Truly, I was the epitome of what every child dreads of growing up into. The following story is true, although at times it may seem hard to believe. To that I can only say, "truth is stranger than fiction."

Allow me to begin my not-so-fond, yet interestingly enough, humorous recollection of my high school experience with my freshman year. I was a new resident to the community as well as the high school. I stepped into the halls of Southaven High School for the first time not knowing a single soul there.

When I entered 9th grade, I weighed under a hundred pounds and had not yet reached my full height. I had not yet discovered cosmetics or blow dryers. Unfortunately, my shoulder-length hair only further accentuated my scrawny neck and looked like a huge, protective frizz of brown wool. My teeth and nose apparently grew long before the rest of my face. I could have been the poster child for adolescent awkwardness. In the fashion department, I was a pathetic failure. My idea of dressing nice was wearing socks to match the color of my shirt. Of course, the only way for my matching socks to be appreciated was to make sure that they were visible, which meant that either my pants were short enough for my socks to be seen or that I wore them under my flat, manly, brown sandals. My personal favorite was wearing my grandmotherly blue sweater, (buttoned up all the way, of course) with the embroidered flowers on the collar. Usually I paired the sweater with straight legged, dark brown pants and wore solid white, non-brand name, high top sneakers. I should have had my head sewn to the carpet at home before going to school dressed so hideously. I sometimes marvel why I was never beaten up for going in public looking the way I did. Of course, I am sure that my appearance made for quite a few self-esteem highs for many of my peers. No matter how badly they thought themselves to look, I was there to instantly make them feel brilliantly good-looking.

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