I would like to thank my low self-esteem.

They say it's good to set tangible goals for yourself; if you want to be successful in life, you have to know what you're striving for.

Well, I know I like entertaining people, so I've decided to write an acceptance speech for some big award that recognizes what a great entertainer I am. I don't know exactly which award I'll be winning, but I do know who I'd like to thank. So here goes...

Wow, this is such an honor! I've won an award! This is total validation of my worth as a human being! Whoo-hoo!

Man, when I was in kindergarten and peed myself because I couldn't undo the clasps on my overalls, I never thought this was going to be happening! And I bet my classmates who were laughing at me then weren't expecting this either. But I've been trying to make people laugh ever since.

Well... wow! So many people to thank... ummm... First and foremost, I'd like to my low self-esteem! Without you, low self-esteem, I would never have the drive, the spirit, the borderline-neurotic desire to please people. I mean, if I were well-adjusted, would I have the desire to debase myself in front of complete strangers? Not at all.

God! Who else? I'd like to thank all the girls in high-school who never talked to me. It was you that made me find new ways to get attention (cuz God knows I wasn't gonna get it for my looks!).

And Mrs. Giacometti! I can't forget you! Even after all the therapy! When we had a parent-teacher conference in sixth-grade, you told my parents I would never amount to anything. I guess I proved you wrong, which has been my driving motivation since I was twelve.

I also have to thank my utter lack of sports skills. You've been a constant presence in my life, utter lack of sports skills.

And how can I even begin to talk about sports without thanking the girl I lost to in a wrestling match freshman year of high school. And all the girls teams my CYO baskteball team regularly lost to in third-grade. Man, what memories.

Okay, okay. They're telling me to wrap it up, so I just have a list of people...

All the guys at bars who girls would rather talk to than me. All the job interviewers who never called me back. All the really, really, really awkward, embarrassing things I've done that I feel I have to make up for. Gosh, the list goes on and on.

Thanks to all the people who were funnier than me in college. I've now accomplished my one goal! In your face! Proof that people like me more than you! Yay!

And last but certainly not least, I have to thank drugs and alcohol. You guys were there for me when no one else was. And I know you'll be there for me again.

Thanks everybody! And keep loving me! Please! Please?

I got some bad news today.

I got some rather unfortunate news today. I found out that one of my former high school teachers has been charged with molesting some male students. It's weird, but I never noticed anything creepy about the guy at all. And here he is, seven years later accused of taking advantage of some of his students who were in the same position I once was. That's a mind-fuck, right? It really makes you wonder... what's so bad about me?

I mean, why did this guy never once make a pass at me?

Now, don't get me wrong; I'm fully aware that it's no fun to be robbed of your innocence by someone in whom you've placed your trust. Someone who should be guiding you through already-difficult years of adolescence. But still, I can't help but wonder what it was about me that was such a turnoff for him.

And let me just say, I'm not into guys or anything. Not in the least. But would it have killed him to just once have made an inappropriate comment about, say, how he was pleased to see me growing into my body?

While I'm sure that had I been fondled by this man back in the day, I would be negatively impacted for a long, long time, at least it would cure my lingering suspicion that I'm a disgusting fatty.

It's things like this that can really scar a person. It's almost enough to make you lose faith in our education system. How can things like this happen? Of course, I'm speaking now of the abominable sexual abuse perpetrated by the teacher.

I am not speaking about his rudely having neglected to "accidentally" graze my package with an errant hand while I stayed after class. Didn't he even care about what I may have been packing? Didn't he even care about my feelings?