And the winner is...

Now that I've graduated and I no longer have grades to measure my worth, I've noticed that I tend to get a little braggy about my past scholastic achievements. I've gotten pretty good about slipping these facts into my conversations, like how I won a state silver medal at the Texas Science Olympiad in Rocks, Minerals, and Fossils identification. I'm always surprised when people laugh at me about this--I fully expect them to celebrate the same way my parents did at the award ceremony--but I guess that's the price I pay for not being best friends with geologists.

Anyway, when I was in school, I was in Horizons, which was the Gifted and Talented Program. In fifth grade, we had these enrichment programs where we had to stay in from recess twice a week and do things like learn to play chess and create our own restaurant from concept to execution and serve it to all the teachers. You may not be surprised to learn that I THRIVED in this environment; in fact, it was my restaurant concept, menu, and music that was used during our weird recess lunchtime service. (In case you were wondering, the theme was Under the Sea, and we served SUB sandwiches--get it?--and we played Little Mermaid songs and Yellow Submarine.)

One day, our teacher took us asied to have Talk. She told us that we had to stop telling the non-Horizons kids about all the cool stuff we were doing during recess, because they were getting jealous. I felt really bad. It was sad they didn't get to play chess with us, but I guess that's the price you pay for being less gifted. (I can say that, because as a less gifted athlete, quite literally in the slow kids PE class, I didn't miss recess one bit. My skills were better used planning fake restaurants than getting hit in the face during foursquare).

I recently recounted this story to my husband, who proclaimed me the biggest nerd on the planet. To counter this, I explained how the other kids were jealous of our awesome fun. He patted me on the head sadly and said, "Sweetie. They weren't jealous. The teachers just didn't want you to get beat up for being a nerd." WHAT?? OMG, he was right! Normal people don't think that kind of thing is fun, nor do they consider anyone bragging when they say they're forced to stay indoors and play chess instead of kickball. Somehow, to me, this was Jealousy Material. Instead, it was just another item on the Bully List of why they should kick my ass. Or, I should say, because I'm a girl, it goes on the list of reasons why they should pretend to be my friend and then make fun of my bangs behind my back. Either way.

So, the real question is, why do I measure my achievement in this way? Probably because I'm completely empty inside. But really, I think it's just hard being a grown-up, in a field where you're either wildly successful or eating the 5/$1 pasta from Ralphs every day. Maybe that's true of all professions. But either way, I could really use at LEAST a certificate of participation at this point.