I should probably elaborate on my busted knuckle. I don't really tell that story.

Putting together a computer, knuckle hits something hard. Next thing I know, I can't move it very well. I take a look, and big bubble has formed. Turned purple, and it was kinda weird. Woke up my Dad, he decided I should go to the ER, just t make sure nothing was broken. X-rays came back, nothing broken, so the doctor 'prescribed' some ice and pain killers. Pathetic. I could have just stayed home and been fine. That knuckle was purple for a while, and it's still visible where there's some blood left. I laugh it off now.

I have this titanium ring that I wear on my right middle finger. It's my reminder to never punch things again. Or to never hurt my hand. Put that along with my messed up right hand index finger, and it's a wonder I'm still shooting well (Bball).

The index finger. I don't remember exactly how it happened. But I think it happened playing ball, the ball hit my finger kinda weird, and I think it got jamed pretty bad. Usualy when a finger gets jammed, it's right at the base knuckle. This was the second knucle, located in the middle of a finger. I don't know the medical terms and what not, so just imagine. But ever since then, that joint will hurt if it's bent in any awkward direction no matter how light a force is applied. That explains why I wear those finger sleeves when I'm playing ball. They really help. I'm breaking two new ones in right now.

My need to scream is based on my frustration. I know my own potential academically, and I'm not meeting it. Each semester is getting better, but I'm the type that likes to see results right away. I was good in math for quite some time, but now I'm stumbling at that. History has always been a B class for me, so I'm used to that. I figure I can make As in Government and my computer science class. Psychology...well...like I was warned, it's not what I expect. I still like it, but I tend to fall asleep in there because the professor talks just like Ozzy, and he's just as old. Not the best combination.

I understand that there are people out there who would love to be in my shoes. I know there are people out there who would kill to make some of my grades (definitely not all). No, I'm not trying to make myself out to be some genius or something. Tell me I'm smart, and I'll just shy away from the subject. If I make an A on a test, you won't know unless you ask. Only my family knows what I made on the SAT. I'm sure some others have asked, but I usually just mumble out some number. I'm fairly certain they don't hear me.

This brings me to an interesting issue.

The 'gifted' and 'bright' kids who hate being called smart. Who hate the 'high expectations' of others. Who hate being labeled a 'brain.'

I hit that phase a while back. Completely hated talking about it. Hated being asked questions just because "Hey! You're smart, you should know." In high school, I found that you didn't have to live through that every day if you kept to yourself. Go to your AP classes, but outside of that, keep quiet. Let people come to you and talk. Discuss what they want to talk about, even if it's as simple as "What do you think of this teacher?" Don't discuss things you just learned in Calc.

The worst feeling I have ever had was when a female friend of mine said, "When I'm around you, I feel so...dumb." That broke me. She tried to make it better by saying, "It's not your fault though." Still sucked. And that changed everything. I don't remember if I tried to discuss Physics or something, but whatever it was, I stopped. I'm sure it must have been something like me helping her with homework, explaining the basics of Trig. I have patience when I'm trying to teach someone something. And I've been told that I'm good at explaining things. Still...I stopped.

I went through high school wondering what it was like to be the kid who brought home Cs and Bs. The kid who worked 5 hours a night on homework just to get a chance at an A-.

Now I know.