Some people say that I'm the kind of person that needs to "get a life." That I'm throwing my teenage years out of the window of a thirty-story building, instead of grasping onto them like children grasp to dreams and fancies towards my body until they are out of sight when I take my first steps into college.

I'm a perfectionist, even if "perfect" is out of sight, out of mind.

I'm a worker. Instead of minutes and seconds, my hours are counted through papers, pencils, books, and calculations.

I am not a procrastinator. As Tom DeMarco and Timothy Lister once said; "There are a million ways to lose a work day, but not even a single way to get one back."

I am intellectual. Concepts and knowledge seem to overshadow my feelings, when all I ever seem to want is love.

It's been 15 years since I was born on this blue and green Earth, and I'm already surprised at all the different things I've learned about myself, with so much more seeming to come. No matter what kinds of experiences people have, or things that they hear, feel, or see, we learn so much about who we are as people, and discover brand new things that we never even knew existed.