There was a girl named Deenah Peterson and when I was about 15 years old.

She was the gawky, awkward, 5-years-younger girl who lived across the street from my best friend. We would take breaks from rebuilding his Ford Mustang motor to lob an occasional (mostly good-natured) insult across the way about the silly games she and her friends were playing.

Flash forward 10 years. I go to the local drugstore, and there behind the counter is the most stunning young woman I'd ever seen. I mean, just...a vision. Her name tag said, "Deenah Peterson." Doh!