I reflect on my life, on the simpler times of childhood. I read the blog of Juhee, one of my friends who now lives in South Korea. I think about how blissful my childhood was.

But you can't dwell on the past.

Sometimes I look back at the 7...8...9...10 year-old me and just marvel at how different I am now. Sure, I was a chunky monkey, but I didn't constantly worry about looking skinny like I do now. Sure, I was intellectually precocious, but I didn't try to blend in like I do now. And yes, sure I was loud and obnoxious, but I didn't try to change myself like I do now.

I can't believe how many friends I had, how often I would go over to someone's house or go to the mall or the movie theater with my friends. I can't believe how well-liked I was, how sociable I was.

But now, I'm just a nervous wreck. Every waking moment is spent worrying about my grades, about school, about stupid teenage drama that makes me want to go on a homicidal rampage. Next year I'm gonna be a sophmore, and for the next 3 years, my life will center around getting into Harvard. The grades, the extracurriculars, the volunteering, everything will revolve around college.

Maybe its just my intense fear of failure. Maybe its just the fact that I am a perfectionist and I will not rest until I get that acceptance letter from an Ivy League college. But most of all, its an ego thing.

My whole life, I've always been an exceptional child, always going above and beyond of what was expected of me. I remember one day in fifth grade when my teacher announced that the highest score on that standardized reading test, was in fact, mine. The test showed that I read at a tenth-grade level, that my score was literally off the charts.

I was always precocious. I am precocious. And I will always be precocious.

I'm an adult trapped in the hormonal body of a teenage girl. I can't wait for that day when I'm eighteen years old and I waltz into synagogue and catch the eye of the most gorgeous Russian-Jewish man. We'll talk. We'll flirt. We'll date for a year or two. And then he will get down on one knee and ask me the four most beautiful words known to mankind: "Will you marry me?"

We'll travel the world, hand in hand. No one will get in our way. Forever I will be in his embrace, staring into his beautiful brown eyes.

We'll create a huge, happy family. And no matter what happens, we will always be together. I will die a happy woman and I will meet him once again in Heaven. Then we can finally spend eternity basking in G-d's glow and wrapped in each other's perpetual arms.