But I always swore to them I'd love this world before it implodes

So today, being the dedicated student teacher that I am, I walk into my assigned French 8 class five minutes before the bell rings and drop my stuff on the desk.


I'm super pumped and ready for le français. I drape my long beige coat behind the chair and set my big woman purse at its base. I drink a few long swigs from my water bottle and set it on the desk as I roll my shoulders and crack my neck. I take out my multiple file folder, undo its elastic, and pull out my agenda, my moleskin notebook and my pen and lay them all out like utensils at the Queen's dinner. I practice the rolling of my r's and sing Charlotte Diamond's "Je suis une pizza" in my head as a warm-up. I adjust my feet in my size 6 black and white Oxford shoes, smooth down my plaid dress and roll up the sleeves of my button up navy sweater. I feel like a total professional, like I can take on the world and all its money and run with it.


Then a kid in the class comes up to me and asks, "Are you a new student?"


And I swear, my face goes:

When he finally finds out, he apologizes. But all I can think of for the rest of the day is the fact that him mistaking me for a 13 year old probably means that I technically have the physique to pass for a 13 year old.


And that is unbearably depressing to me.


Especially because I was totally eyeing this girl on the skytrain the other day who was also eyeing me. It was a really cute situation actually. You know those times when you catch someone watching you, and you know that person knows, and you know that they know that you know, and you're thinking that if you guys weren't in a public place you'd totally be pulling them into a broom closet somewhere?


That happened to me another time when I was at Little Sister's on Davie Street. I'm not sure if the other person was a woman or a man and I frankly didn't really care. I was stumbling over my words and the other person kept accidentally dropping things. It was one of those moments when you're attracted to that person and you know that person is attracted to you and you know that they know that you're attracted to them, but you can't do shit because your parents are waiting for you outside. 


Anyway, now I'm beginning to think that maybe the girl on the skytrain was only eyeing me because she was wondering why the hell a 13 year old would seem so enamoured with her.


Goddamn my life.


As class went on though, and conjugations of the verb "être" flooded my brain, I tried to see the bright side of this pathetic situation. Sure, I may have looked 13 for the past 13 years, but you know what that means?


I will pretty much live forever. Or at least, age at the rate of turtles. As long as I never take up smoking or drugs or drinking or plastic surgery, I won't ever have to worry about spending a million dollars on the entire Olay Age Defying Makeup collection. So suck on that.


And to tell the truth, I honestly don't believe the girl on the skytrain thought I was 13. She seemed way too content to be standing next to me. I think that deserves an epic hand smack.

Courtesy of Wambach and Pinoe. Bro life for life.