I had a truly horrible Junior High school career, in which I occupied the much-loathed lowest rung in a social hierarchy I didn’t want to be a part of. (How it sickens me when adults say, “everyone wants to fit in!” I didn’t want to fit in, I wanted to GET OUT.) That may be why I read the hundreds of very kind “Happy Birthday” messages on my Facebook page Tuesday with some cognitive dissonance. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to accept the identity of “popular.”