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The Undoing: Fashion in PGS


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"I'm very glad you do this… However, I must admit that looking at your site is a little like picking at a scab.
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8-11-08

In junior high I was not only shy and awkward, but by eighth grade I
shot up to five feet eight inches, making me taller than every boy but
one. I only weighed around one hundred pounds. I had no figure
whatsoever; my chest was practically concave.

One day I overheard some kids making fun of my friend, Katy. She's a
carpenter's dream, one boy laughed. As flat as a board!

Another boy asked her, If you didn't have feet, would you wear
shoes? Katy answered, No. Then why are you wearing a bra? the boy
responded.

Instead of coming to my friend's defense, I scurried away before I
could be seen and similarly tormented.

That next week, while standing by the drinking fountain, one of the
boys, Mark, approached me and asked, If you didnt have feet, would
you wear shoes?

I was mortified, but I didnt want to be laughed at. Yes, I said,
and walked briskly away, relieved that there wasnt an audience.

When I look back on it now, I recall that Mark was only about
waist-high to me, a slow-witted kid with an unruly mop of hair. Nobody
ever teased me about my remark, so Mark probably didnt tell anyone. He was probably just as relieved as I was that nobody witnessed our
exchange. This Pathetic Geek Story was submitted by Sarah.

 

7-15-08

When I entered ninth grade, I was pretty pathetic.

That previous summer, I had learned how to snap my fingers and
whistle. I was so petrified, I would walk around between classes
snapping my fingers and whistling.

It got worse pretty quickly. My school had an ice cream social for the
ninth graders. I sat at a table with this cute blond girl and a couple
other people.

I taught myself to touch-type the summer before, and was nervously
typing everything we were saying against the table. Like I was some
kind of court stenographer. She began talking to the other people at
the table instead.

That same year, I took a typing class that still had the old manual
typewriters. Because I already knew touch-typing, I zipped along while
everyone else was hunting and pecking.

I think at least one person noticed and got a little resentful,
because when I came to class one day, on a sheet of paper in my
assigned typewriter someone had typed,

Micah¾is a prick.

This Pathetic Geek Story was submitted by¾Micah.

 

5-7-08

Wrong Award


3-10-08

 

I shared middle school wood shop class with three girls who liked to torment me...  We were assigned to these four-person workbenches, and of course I was placed with them...  They liked to put this tiny, bent, rusty stool in my assigned spot. They did this every day and I was forced to look like an idiot because there were no other stools available. They called it the reject stool or the loser stool.
 I decided to thwart them one day. I raced to shop class early and switched the loser stool to the place of the worst girl.   When she showed up, we got into a tugging match. I knew I was stronger, so I held out...  But she just let go of it.  From then on, I just sat on the loser stool. I hated wood shop, and when we made boomerangs, mine didn't even work.  Story submitted by Roz S.

2-9-08
As a sophomore in high school, I was a budding punk rocker and star math student.  One day, these two cute punk girls from my math class asked me if I would tutor them for five dollars.  So I went over to the home of one of them and spent an hour trying to do my job and get them to pay attention.  They, meanwhile, talked about anything they could. Then one of them asked me if I wanted to read Playboy.  Twelve years later, I realized: They were trying to seduce me.  Story submitted by Bob B.

1-30-08
As one of the smallest and skinniest kids in ninth grade, I was very self-conscious about it. I looked about two years younger than my classmates, was too small to even be bullied (physically, that is), and no girls would consider me romantically.  For some reason, my French teacher picked up on this.  As we were learning dating-related vocabulary, she said to meíÈÓin FrenchíÈÓstuff like, You probably don't go out on dates, and You haven't started dating yet, have you? The easily embarrassed type anyway, this just mortified and bewildered me.  After the second or third time, one of the attractive girls tried to stick up for me by telling the teacher, falsely, that we were dating. The idea was so ridiculous that the whole class just burst out laughing, adding to my shame.  Further underscoring my geekdom: I kept imagining I could stop time, remove all the teacher's clothes and restart time, so she would be just as embarrassed.  Story submitted by Mike.