"Go ahead, throw it." "Kara, be careful!" "Don't worry... he won't throw it."
After reading one of my classmate's blogs, I had one of those movie moments in my head, a flashback as they like to call it in the literary world. I remembered being a little bad-ass on the playground of my rural, farm-town elementary school. I can see, in my head, all 60 pounds of little elementary school me, standing up to the big bully throwing basketballs at girls on the playground. I gave him such attitude, such lip, and I showed no fear.
I used to be quite the trouble-maker in school. Nothing major, don't get me wrong, and I was a very smart little girl. However, I was that kid who would slide down the banister leaving the gifted education program, I was that kid, who would talk during class and wind up clapping erasers at the end of the school day. I was that kid who always took the projects to another level... the "she probably crossed the line, but it's so detailed and accurate I'm not going to do anything about it but shake my head" level. I was smart, and I was often bored- a dangerous combination.