Hello, Strangers! By Ginger Foutley

For most of my childhood, I've been in with the out crowd. When I first went to kindergarten, my greatest fear was that I wouldn't belong, that I wouldn't fit in. I wanted to belong. The earliest years of my life were so different. Mom said that I didn't socialize much when I was a toddler. I stayed around my home a lot. Mom would take me around with her when she would run errands, and I might end up seeing some other kids. But for the most part, it was just the two of us. And dad, when he was still around. My brother Carl didn't come along until a few months before I started nursery school. I remember not seeing enough of my dad. I still don't. It's always been like that. But somehow, he manages to be there for me when I need him most. But that's a story for another time.

Sometimes, I wonder how I lived to be twenty-one. I mean, if I had been raising me, I would've killed myself years ago! Um, that does make sense, right? Maybe not. I tend to get punchy when I write in the middle of the night. Even now, this is writing in the loosest sense of the word. I'm spending more time staring at the walls, watching the trail of headlights dancing through my window and along the wall. People coming home from the bar to confront their lives. Full of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The blood of the beaten and the tired. The blood of cowards and fools and contenders and sad sacks and dreamers who keep smelling their wildest fantasies lying just beyond the next drink, the next tawdry affair, the next escape. These are the people who treat self-help books as the new religion, their authors the prophets of a new way of life. And sometimes, I am one of them. Yet another story I'll have to tell you later.

So, I was afraid when I first went to school. I wasn't sure how to act around the other kids, or what to say. I just knew that I had to be a good girl, because I didn't want to cause any problems for my mother. I don't remember the exact time I met Dodie or Macie very clearly. I remember being alone. Like there was action going on all around me, but I wasn't a part of it. But somehow they found me. Or more accurately, we found each other. There we were. The out crowd. The ones no one else wanted. But we accepted one another. What more does a kid in school want than to belong?

You know what, I feel the need to go off-topic again. My job is to entertain all of you every week. I'm not really required to do anything else. I think I finally realized that I'm not quite like regular people. I don't have to work 9 to 5. In fact, I have a whole week to come up with these columns. Some days, I do nothing. Sometimes, I write in piecemeal, doing a little each day and having it ready at the end of the week. Of course, what I really like to do is just sit down and write. Most of what you read is just whatever's floating through my mind at the time. Heh, looks like I have too much to think about tonight since I can't seem to keep myself focused. Miss Zorsky? If you're reading this, I'm sorry!

But I'm not trying to complain here. I mean, I love doing what I do. This has probably been the most rewarding experience of my life. Except maybe the first time something of mine was published. Or when I had my first real kiss. Or that time when I. . .um, I just remembered this is for the newspapers, so I'd better leave that one out. But my point, and I do have one, is that knowing that people like you are reading this thing every week is what keeps me going. Believe me, I have plenty of weeks where this is about the last thing I want to do. I just want to curl up on the couch and watch sappy movies and vegetate. And it's good to do that every now and then. But it looks like I manage to keep enough discipline that I don't miss my deadlines. I mean, I'm giving up sleep for you guys right now, right?

What was I saying when I started this thing? Oh, right. I already told you that I was in with the out crowd. And that suited me just fine. But as I grew older, I slowly developed an "in" with the in crowd. And things began to change. I wasn't popular, but suddenly, people knew who I was. And I didn't have to blend in with the crowd anymore. I could take a stand for the things I wanted to. When I was lucky, I might even get the support of those who ruled the social structure of Lucky Jr. High. But in truth, I ended up spending a lot of time saving the girl at the top from being toppled. I discovered that I didn't really want to be one of the popular crowd. But I did like visiting. I realize now how fortunate I was. The most popular girl in school took me under her wing, the girl who set the standards for in and out, hot and not. And yet, I had a tendency to rebel and go my own way. I've never been ashamed of who I am or where I come from. Quite the opposite, really. I've learned from long talks with my mom and my dad that I'm proud to be a Foutley. And maybe, someday, I'll have a little boy or girl who will be just as proud as I am. But until that day, I don't mind swimming along the upper echelons every now and then, standing among the beautiful people. I may be a regular girl, but I've had a taste of the popular life, and I like to keep my foot in the door. Hey, you would too! Don't look at me like that.

Okay, that's all for now. I think I need to get back to bed. I'm starting to see double and I'm talking to myself. Moreso than usual. And you won't like me when I'm tired and snarky. Good night!