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Fitting in. Living in my new home has allowed me to blossom into the misfit I was born to be. Finally. All my life I've had a hard time fitting in. I've had some limited successes. I fit in well with my upperclassmen horn players in pep band. They all treated music the way I did: sure it was fun but you had to work hard at it. You had to take playing well seriously and hone your skills. When I moved to Seattle I was keen to fit in with regular life after spending twelve years in a cult where they prided themselves on not fitting in. One of the catchphrases of The Community was in the world but not of the world, a Christian paraphrase popular in new agey cults. As it turns out I never fit in with The Community's version of not fitting in. In Seattle I used my drinking chops, greatly developed in Boulder, to engineer it so I fit in. To great success! With help from loads of booze I forced myself to fit, Procrustes style, into a terribly ill-fitting marriage. That turned out to be a blessing in disguise: the abject misery of it forced me to begin waking up.