Most Likely To...

Remember back in high school, in your senior year, when your classmates voted the 'Most Likely' list?  What did they vote you as?

Funny how out of the blue, as I was watching TV earlier today, I suddenly remembered about that.

I wish I could recall where my yearbook is right now, for I would've loved to scan a copy of it and post it here.  However, since high school, I've probably moved places and cities at least 7 or 8 times, so I presume that there's either a high-school yearbook with my name written on its first page, tucked around safely in some storage corner, or that some street vendor had probably used up all its papers (my high school picture included) to make wraps for some dang honey-roasted peanuts or something.  Let's hope it's the first and not the latter.

Have you ever wondered about your life now, and how it corresponds (or not) to that little cutesy high-school title your friends gave you?  Say you do, because otherwise I'd have to tell myself that I'm the only one who ever does that because I have nothing better to do with my days than to ponder about how my life corresponds to my high-school title.  That would suck.

For my regular readers (ooh, doesn't that make me sound like a professional writer? Love it!), I'm sure by now you've caught glimpses of who I am as a person and are able to at least form some kind of an impression.  For new readers out there to whom this post is the first (not the last, I hope) you've ever read of my blog, here's how I was back in high school:

I was a nerd who would weep and wail on my bed whenever I earned less than A- on my homework and exams.  I  was the student council president.  I was shy and awkward upon meeting new people.  I stayed in a boarding school with minimal supervision (yes, our house director rocked!) but I always clocked in on-time for the study time, even when I was a senior with senior privileges who didn't have mandatory study time.

I was also one of the first students who illegally owned a mobile phone in my boarding house.  One day, the said mobile phone went missing, and since it's a serious offense to have one (yeah the good ol' days), I freaked out and turned my bedroom upside down, all the while cursing in at least 3 different languages.  The house director thought I had a nervous breakdown, and I couldn't tell the truth because if they found out about my mobile phone, they would've issued a detention, and 2 detentions could get you kicked out of the school.  So the brilliant student counselor put me on a "suicide" watch, and  for three days I had to sleep next door to the school's spiritual counselor.  I couldn't sleep or even take a leak with the door closed.  At the end of those 3 days I really did feel like I was already well on my way to the cuckoo's nest.

I had boys came over to pick me up with their sports car every weekends (the perks of going to a private all-girls school awesome enough to be surrounded by private ivy league universities, people!), so to some teachers and students, I was perceived as a party animal with slightly lesser morals than the other party-going girls who sneaked boys into their bedrooms but was too street-smart to ever get caught.  And also because I just happened to look like a bitch of the highest order.  That's what I meant when I said it sucked to have people think you're snooty and all that just because of your face.  It wasn't because of race, religion, or even cultural background.  And it wasn't even because I was crazy beautiful or anything like that.  It was purely because of my effin face, one that I happened to be born with.  People seemed to agree it had "bitchy" written all over it.  Oh, and the boys tend to assume I was either an airhead or an intimidating bitch (sigh. Notice how the "bitch" kind of came up often?). 

Still, I loved my high-school years.  I had a close knit of good friends, who all said at some point, "Gosh, and here I thought you were such a bitch when I first saw you."  Yeah, heard that before.  The teachers couldn't really get mad at me for long because at least I made their classes looked interesting, by answering their questions when most of the other girls had fallen asleep in their chairs.  In fact, I frequented their offices so much after school, always with a million questions, that they perhaps gave me all those As just to get rid of me.  And hell yeah, dating life wasn't that bad either.

So, what I wanted to ask you was, could you guess what 'Most Likely' title my friends gave me on my high-school yearbook?  What's yours??  Tell me, tell me, tell me!!!

(Wanna know the answer?  Read part 2 :)