>Junior year passed by in a blur.  I dated two guys (not at the same time!), but they were even more naïve than I was, sweetly dorky (just how I like ‘em), and oddly enough, less inclined to have sex than I was.  I was fine with that.  I was still in a shitty mood for most of the year anyway from my prior heartbreak, and I really didn’t need any other problems.

Something happened in my senior year.  All of my reservations were cast aside, and years of repression came spilling out.  It was like, “somebody – anyone! – do me now!  Please?!?”  Unfortunately, I was also chubby, zitty, and wore no makeup.  In addition, being very moody, angry white trash Jewish girl in a school full of wispy WASP beauties didn’t help the situation.  I was mistakenly under the impression that teenage boys (or any guy, really) would take it wherever they could get it, but no one seemed to want to dance the horizontal tango with me.  Maybe I was no good at advertising my desperation.  Maybe guys in my community just didn’t fuck fat.  Maybe my slightly deserved unstable reputation scared guys away.  At any rate, not one was biting.  (OK, this is not entirely true, but it wasn’t until many years later when I looked back on the situation with a wise old eye that I realized there were some poor saps too polite/shy to act on their desire.)