In addition to being seriously charming, this Pia Chatterjee article in the SF Chronicle makes me feel somewhat better about my squirrely adolescent social skills.
I was 16 when I discovered that in most instances, I preferred books to boys. My epiphany occurred at a teenagers' party at the local country club, where the area around the pool had been decorated to resemble a disco. Silver balloons floated around the ceiling and the music system played "Red, Red Wine." My friend was out there on the blue tiles, having fun. Why couldn't I?
"I wish I were home with 'The Mill on the Floss,'" I thought, and was appalled at my lack of coolness.
(link via Estella's Revenge)
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