i've been going through a crisis of sorts lately (oh, hadn't you noticed?), but up until a few days ago i had been thinking about it as some sort of early mid-life crisis. now i'm thinking i've had it all wrong: i am not too old i am too young. i am in a crisis of second puberty.

i haven't grown since the eighth grade but suddenly i feel like i am adult sized, finally as tall as my mom although i've towered over her for ten years. my legs and their flesh have changed to me, and the scars i've incurred up to now seem like the wounds of a baby. my breasts-- who knows, they'll probably change again, at the next (or next plus one or who knows when) major milestone in my life when i am nurturing some little thing that might grow up to share the hips that run unbroken through my mother's side of the family.

so my body is changing, and i've lost a bit of baby fat since starting at the bar. but my crazy pubescent hormones must be in overdrive as well, because every time that coldplay song comes on at work (we have 35 songs that play on repeat and yes, wonderwall is one of them) i want to put my head on my arms and cry. i want to invite anything pretty that moves to see me, to know me, to touch me, but at the same time i don't let anybody near me.

i feel confused like a child who has suddenly realized there is no going back to crawling under tables at family reunions.