I, too, grew up in a hometown with a small department store that put on major Bloomingdale's-wannabe airs. And I was also known in the godforsaken high school of that town as one of those kids who want to be writers -- part of the year book club, contributed to a xeroxed mag for the college prep English course kids, and was a member of the speech team. And I too have run into people I vaguely remember or a burning desire not to remember, people who have asked me that same damned question. And, depending on the person who's asked, I'll tailor an itty bitty lie mixed with enought truth that I know will either make their stomach acids roil with demonic hate and jealousy, or, for the few that could go either way (hater or playa-lover!), I make up a portentious job title like "information analyst" or "administrative consultant" which imply, depending on whene/where I was working at the time, that I have exotic skills related to my writing flair! I used to work for a horrific paper in San Bernardino (The SB Sun), a USA Today clone/McPaper, that taught me the same lesson you learned from the Blond Bimbo and in oh so many ways. And there's people in Holtville (yes, that's the name of the buttsville endured) who still imagine in their most pained moments of house frau or cattle feed humper turmoil, that I am sent to exotic locations to report on the nation's breaking news! The moral of this story: Be proud of those math skills which leave me a bit green with envy, because I also always longed to have the skills to be a math wiz back in the day! Then I would have been Uber Geek! Yay! And gotten my hair pulled and thrown in the cafeteria Dumpstr simultaneously! But would have made those asshole hicks hella miserable when that I wrote my first Stephan Hawkins-style, poetic ode to math/science! And could use it now, my friend, to help me advance in my upcoming Masters coursework for an IT degree. *sigh* -- guess I'll have to settly for poetry and English mag rejections slips for now! ; )