I have this theory that there are different parts of our lives – moments in time – that become “bookmarked” so to speak.  These moments become themes of our very existences.   One of mine happened when I was 15…   It went something like this.   “Don’t they understand I’m not a nerd, I’m just foreign!” I demanded completely exasperated.   My older, male, cousin just laughed.  “No, I don’t think they understand that at all,” he said.   “The only guy that would sit next to me was a kid whose pencils match his pencil case.  I asked him to borrow one and he nearly had a coronary deciding, which one of his precious pencils to loan me,” I stammered at my…