Wednesday, April 28, 2010


It was sixth grade and I was pretty happy-go-lucky. Sure, I had glasses, braces and burgeoning boobs, but I was fairly confident. The world hadn't yet told me about rejection and I thought that if I liked a boy, he'd like me back. Oh how wrong I was...

His name was Andrew and he was in every class with me. He was super cute, seemed nice and was in EVERY CLASS WITH ME. I mean, I saw him constantly and he seemed nice and so I developed my first major crush. I smiled extra long at him, helped him with any class work because I was smarter than him and was elated when he asked me to dance at the Middle School Social. So, I thought I would take our relationship to the next level and write him a note.

I labored over the note for at least four hours. I think the final script read something like, "Hey Andrew. I like you. Do you want to go out with me? Check Yes or No."

His only reply, a big fat "X" in the "No" box. I had been rejected. I had encountered my first blow off. As stupid as it sounds, I don't think I had the cojones to ask another dude out until I was well into my adult life. Thanks a lot, middle school.

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