I officially consider myself an outsider, a wraith lurking in the shadows between the lampposts of life, never really part of any one group. This is reflected at school by my constant wandering (which I often accompany by singing "I'm a wanderer / Oh, a wanderer / I like to wander, wander, wander, wander, wander, wander") between cliques in which I feel membership is unavailable to me. This lack of a firm identity (except perhaps that of a "nerd" or "dork," which I openly welcome) has allowed me to analyze certain aspects of high school culture as an objective observer, which has come in handy quite frequently, I've found.

To elaborate on that parenthetical notation (of which I am particularly fond, if somehow you have neglected to notice [which I imagine is impossible at this point]) about welcoming the "dorky" image, let me explain something: I love being weird! It's so bloody boring being normal; I would much rather use outdated or British slang, quote Shakespeare and Shelley, make random and otherwise non sequitur comments, and collect information on the drug trade, embalming, and other fascinating (to me, at least) concepts. Why bother worrying about fashion when there's enthralling literature to absorb and vocabulary to learn? Sure, I'm not privy to all the latest fads, but who really cares? If FUBU has a new, diamond-encrusted jersey or Old Navy's capri pants are simply divine, what effect is that going to have on my life in ten years? Nought.

So, lest I flog that poor horse cadaver excessively, I correct myself: I am not merely a punk rocker emo kid, nor am I entirely a skater (I did dabble in skateboarding once, but found it beyond my limited athletic ability), nor am I anything completely. My identity is myriad; I am a chimera of culture, encompassing musical taste ranging from Everclear's "AM Radio" to Eminem's "The Way I Am," a sense of style that's all my own (horrible as it may be), and a personality so eccentric it defies definition.

Screw popularity.

[Exit Orpheum.]