You spelled that wrong - EXPOSED

As I've been telling people about my blog, I realize my Web address actually has (seemingly) little to do with my actual blog. Or does it? The plot thickens. **Cue lights, music.**

In school, spelling divided people from the two or three who could spell words such as "ostentatious" in sixth grade from those who'd heard a rumor about hard words, but didn't quite believe such words existed until their fragile 12-year-old egos were frying under the bright lights on the stage in front of the whole school, and parents and grandparents. Eek.

I was the kid who knew how to spell it, but misspelled it on purpose. I hated being on the stage. I was terrified of having to go on to county, then districts. I didn't want to be one of "them."

But I was one of them. I just didn't know it. The principal would say (mockingly, I swear) "I'm sorry, that's incorrect." And there'd be whispers. But I'd blush and sit down, heart pumping, and be glad I was done.

And spelling bees weren't the first time I missed out on something. I'd been asked to spell some easy words in first grade for my teacher, Scary Ritchie (there was an urban legend that she had rags to wipe the boards because she used to throw the erasers at kids and someone died). I was in a split class; half the class was in first, the other in second. I misspelled the words on purpose because my friends in the first grade got to play, while I was reading with the second graders. Come on! That's not even fair!

And then there was the time I didn't want to go to the "smart kids" school every Wednesday so I failed the test, in case something happened with my mom (or my belly or my ears or my clothes) and I had to go home immediately. I felt claustrophobic because I wanted to be at the school by my house, not on a bus out with smart kids.

If I had spelled those things right, would I be in the same place I am today? I don't know. Maybe they weren't tests so much as insignificant times in my life that I choose to hang a lot of "what ifs" on. I'm just about to the point where I am completely happy with my life. (I need a dog, and in a few years, some kids.) Will I let go of the "what ifs"?

Will I keep spelling things wrong because I'm scared? I don't no. I gues wu'll sea.