I am not easily recognized, or rather, I am easilyignored. My style of dress is a cardigan and jeans, or when it's warmer, aT-shirt and jeans. Occasionally I'll wear khakis. I am a very unnoticeable 5'3''and have eaten just enough chocolate to have a round face and figure. With all ofthis in mind, when I tapped the shoulder of the up-to-the-minute girl lip-lockedwith her boyfriend-of-the-day, I was not greeted with a warm smile.

Ifrequently disturbed this couple, since my locker was in Make-Outville. It isinteresting, however, that I am the first (technically third, I suppose) to findout what new couple has gotten together.

As I waspondering why our lockers are neon orange when our school colors are red andblack, I exaggerated the act of dropping each book into the metal box to enjoythe humor of the "you-only-wish-you-could-have-what-I-have" look fromthe heavily outlined eyes behind me.

The irony is - I don't want that. No,I am not a nerd in denial; that is just not what I want. Exchanging saliva with adifferent guy every week and making sure I look just like Jennifer Love Hewitt orany other three-name girl is not my top priority. Sorry to disappoint you Miss"I can't believe I had to buy a size 3," but you're a little conceitedto think everyone wants to be just like you.

I'll tell you what I want: Iwant to go to college. I want to get good grades. I want everyone to be nice. Iwant a cure for Alzheimer's so my grandmother and my family can have Grandfatherback. I want to get to my locker without being scrutinized. Oh my goodness, whatan outcast I am. What a nerd! Whatever is the matter withme?

I like boys. Simply because I choose to search forsomeone who makes me happy (and that just happens to take a while) does notautomatically prove that I live an "alternate lifestyle." Sorry todisappoint you; I apologize for taking away today's lunchtimeconversation.

I will tell you what I want in a boy. I want him to opendoors for me. Old-fashioned or not, I appreciate that greatly. I want him to bemy best friend. I want to be able to go to him with anything and for him to careabout what I say. His favorite outfit on me is whatever I am wearing that day,and he smiles the moment he sees me.

Most of all, though, to explaineverything, I want to feel loved. To me, that takes a little more than "Hey,baby, wanna go to my place?" My heart goes a little deeper than any remarkcontaining the word "baby." The man I am picturing may not exist, but Iam not asking for perfection. Anyone who will love me for who I am and not who Icould pretend to be after hours of training and another two hours in the bathroomwould be an improvement on what I've found in high school.

Perhaps allthis is not the popular idea or view on life. Maybe it is not even the best. Ijust wish some people would get their faces out of the mirror and do a littlemore work on what is on the inside.