because I age in spurts, or not at all.
The proof is in my school photos. Essentially, there have been a few phases:
0-4: in which I was a baby
5-9: in which I was a slightly larger child, with slightly larger and less round eyes (but more on my eyes later)
10-16: in which I had the same face as before but the body of a chubby preteen
17+: the present, in which, after dropping sixteen pounds of chub and chopping off a foot of hair, I...still have the same face and look to be 14
This realization was brought on by my older brother, who recently came home from Toronto on vacation. He's always had fun teasing me, since I was born, but the classic "Stupid Mei mei" and "You're fat" doesn't really work anymore, so he's fallen back to teasing me about looking like I'm a ninth grader.
(Though I think he's given up on finding a good trait to mock now, as at dinner he he just decided to say "Look at you, all skinny and stuff" in a mocking tone, to which I, bemused, replied "Thank you?")
In all the recent family bonding (read: late night movies and spontaneous laughing fits) I've also realized that I might be adopted. There are seemingly only a handful of traits I have that can be linked to my parents, and they're flimsy proof at best:
1) The Keanu-Reevesness (technical term) might be from my mom who went into her late-20's still passing as a 19-year old.
2) My feet are clones of my dad's
Counter to those two: I'm much more tan than the rest of my family, my eyes don't resemble either of my parents', and I have these super spidery hands that don't match up to the rest of my family's normally proportioned hands.
Maybe I'm a dumpster baby. An age-defying dumpster baby.
-akacookielime
P.S. SequenceKitten, you need my permission to put screenshots in your blogs? Do as you wish! Just get buff.
I hold you to that resolution.
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