Thoughts on reading another teen novel

So I just finished reading a manuscript by an teen author I'm *hopefully* going to sign as a client, which touches on the whole "Mean Girls" and Lifetime movie "Odd Girl Out" theme. And, man, but it made me think about high school, and how very very glad I am not to be in it anymore.

I mean, I think it's probably much worse now than it was way back in the day when I was in high school, and I went to an all girls school, so that's another whole thing entirely, but I just... each time I read another scene about girls being mean to each other, I get like this little pain in my chest, you know, and I know that I was so not one of the cool kids at school, and I thank the Powers That Be that most of the time, I didn't really care. I think I tried to, for those two years in middle school when I went to the public school in my home town, and wanted so desperately wanted to fit in that I started calling myself Katy, and did the so-not-a-real-relationship two week "dating" thing with a jock. But the truth always comes out, doesn't it, and I went from being one of the romantic leads in my 7th grade play, and crushing on the hot blonde who played my stage boyfriend, to playing the teacher in our 8th grade musical, reading steamy romances and getting matched up with the geek. Which, when you stop and think about it... pretty well sums up my life right now. Except for the teacher part. And... yeah.

So high school, at least, wasn't four years of hell, or some sort of African animal behavioral study like in "Mean Girls." And yet... does any girl who ever got picked on, or didn't fit in, outgrow that sense of not belonging? I get paranoid sometimes on the subway, or walking past a group of fabulous and stylish New Yorkers, and think that they're laughing at me. And suddenly, I'm 13 again, pretending I'm not going to go over to my friends house to watch tv and play video games, rather than go to the mall, or some swank new hotspot.

And most of the time, I really don't care, honestly. I love my friends, every odd, quirky, geek-encrusted one of them. I love the people I've met through playing roleplaying games, of every stripe and sort. And I know, even when I am dressed to the nines (ok, sevens, usually, on my budget) and sipping a fancy cocktail at a chi-chi bar, that I have this whole other life that may not be glamorous, but that makes me *happy*. And that's something.

And if I want more, it will be on those terms, not any others. Because, at heart, I was never the Molly Ringwald character in "The Breakfast Club," despite being able to do the lipstick trick. And I was never so anti-social as to be Ally Sheedy. No, I was Anthony Michael Hall. And look how nicely he turned out.