It seems appropriate that my first blog would address one, of the unfortunately many, issues in my life that I allow to drive me crazy. No one, no one believes how old I am. One time I had to pull out my drivers license to prove my age. And it wasn't because I was trying to buy alcohol or get into a bar. It was simply a conversation were someone refused to believe my age. Who lies about being older then they are?
Since we have a new groups of teachers we have been going through the getting to know routine. This commonly leads to the how old are you question. There has been the typical "Katie I didn't realize how old you are" or "Someone told me how old you were and I couldn't believe it" and the all time favorite "you can't be that old." Which, as you know, I despise. What is the correct response to these statements. "You're right. I am a lair." What! do I look like a dishonest person. Do people look at me and say "Oh, there is a girl, a very young girl, who lies. Do not believe a single thing she says. Lair, lair pant of fire."
I should not have to convince people that yes I am old and no, I am not lying about my age. I am 27 years-old. I am not old, I am not young, I am just 27 years-old. Once again, why would I or anyone else (over the age of 21) lie about being older. Sigh! Rant! and Rave!
Luckily, my most recent run in with the age question was quite hilarious. I have found that aside from ranting about the age issue, laughter is the best solution. It was a typical getting to know you moment. I was eating lunch with two of the new teachers and Destiny (a second semester teacher). Destiny is going on a mission and the rest of us had served a mission. Which lead to mission talk. Turns out that one of the guys and I were both in the mission training center for thanksgiving. Which prompted the question "Wait, were you there at the same time?" What follow is my new all time favorite remark about my age. "No because she would have to be 27 and (turning towards me) you are not even close to 27." Destiny and I made eye contact, the amusement in our eyes was priceless. I admit it was with great joy that I responded, "Actually, that is exactly how old I am." Then the conversation quickly died into the typical how old are you lines. But for one beautiful moment it was funny, different and I love it.
My name if Katie Laws and I am twenty seven.
But I do not wear a European shoe size 41. I wear a size 38. A sweet Taiwanese person gave me shoes for Chinese New Year and they are way to big, two sizes to big. I am devastated. (It was more devastating then the disbelief about my age.) For some reason I can not get over it. I have an unhealthy fixation with shoes. I love them, they make me happy. Free shoes is my personal nirvana. Then to find out that they are clown shoes on my feet . . . the sadness, the darkness, the melodrama I am creating over a pair shoes. I need to move on.
My name is Katie Laws. I am twenty seven. I will buy a new pair of shoes this weekend.
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1 comment:
After reading your blog and realizing that no one else makes comments on it, I thought you should feel some love and know that someone bothered to read it. I was entertained by it and even happy to have been mentioned in the blog. That is all.
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