Height: Much taller than I at 10.
Hair: Dark. Smile: Perfect.
Degree of my crush: I tried to be popular so he would notice me. (I gave up trying to be popular a year before after Donitus Obi released the loudest flatulent to ever be heard. He blamed it on me. There was no hope of being Queen Bee after that.)
My fifth grade teacher was Heavenly. His pale face and barely pink lips made dividing fractions and the scientific method go from slightly boring to the most interesting subjects I would slack off in to receive help after school. (I didn’t slack in math. I actually excelled in it so that he didn’t think I was as dumb as I was pretending.)
I did everything from receiving over 27 conduct checks to wearing platform heals to try to seem taller therefore older. (These were my poor attempts at popularity).Normally this type of crush would cease to exist at the end of the school year when I went to a new school for junior high. However, this one continued until ninth grade when it should have hit WSFA local news.
As AIM blossomed into a sensational craze, so did my relationship with Mr. Thomson. I am not quite sure how I came about his screen name, DerekThomson88, but at the tender ages of 11-15 he and I struck up quite the conversations in cyber space from how our days were to advice on other boys whose stories will soon grace this blog.
Appalled, weird, intriguing, creepy is what I assume are the thoughts running through your head right now. But it wasn’t until age 20 that I realized this NB was wrong for me for more than just the usual reasons. Maybe he wasn’t even an NB, just B.
One good thing did come out of this. I have never had a problem with factorials and fractions, which could be helpful in my search for an NJB.