Forty-five years ago today, my parents got married in a blizzard - all the pictures I've seen look like a tv with shitty reception. Then, not yet satisfied, sensing they could do better than blinding snow and near-zero temperatures, they went to Canada for their honeymoon. It's soothing to know my dimwittedness comes honestly.
It was also on this day in the 11th grade that I got my SAT scores and saw that I had, rather incredibly I must say, gotten a lower score than when we had taken the SAT in the 7th grade. I don't remember why we took it in the 7th grade, it was some experimental thing or some shit, but to come back four years later and do worse might remain my greatest feat, and it was completely due to the fact that I was in the throes of desperately trying to woo the young lady who was (shortly thereafter, thankfully) to become my first girlfriend, and spent a rather larger chunk of time during the test looking out the window and singing love songs in my head, dreaming about our future life together. I was quite an impressive young man.
Oh, don't worry; a few months later once I had her firmly squired in my web of love, I re-took the test and did so well that it automatically qualified me to be in the "honors program" at my Almost Matters, allowing me to rub elbows with the hoi-polloi of academia.
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