R.I.P 8/9/71-7/11/16

This is the Dear daddy letter I wrote shortly after he left. Maybe one day Ill have the strength to write a more in depth post about him, but right now this is all I can manage. It almost ripped my heart out to write this. 

Dear Daddy, 

I love you, I love you, I love you. I hope I told you that enough, and when I did, I hope you knew how true it was. I know you knew that I loved you. I know that. But did you know the extent? Did you know how it would feel for me to lose a fifth of my heart in an instant? What I wouldn’t do to hear you call me “My Ella” again. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to sleep, it hurts to be happy without you here. And everyone keeps telling me that it will get better but I don’t want it to. I don’t want to feel in the slightest that I’m getting over you. Do you know what you were to me? What you ARE to me? Did I ever tell you? No. Probably not. I wish I did. I wish I could tell you how indispensable you are to me. Because you are me. And I am you. Every single day I do or say something or look in the mirror and know I got so much from you. We’re so similar, you and me. Too similar sometimes, perhaps. You thought I was too hardheaded, but I got it from you. To strong-willed to bend, to stubborn to admit that we were wrong. You always said you wanted your kids to be like you. You got your wish. You always thought you were being the rational one when I thought I was. All the arguments we got into that didn’t matter. I want you to know that even when I was irritated with you, I could never hold it against you. That fight we had when I was younger, when I was 14, had already been forgotten. I don’t know why it feels important for me to tell you that. Its been so long. But I should have told you before. I can’t bear the thought that you might have still assumed I was holding a grudge. 

You were so important to me. You were the one that made our lives lively and special. You loved us so much and we could feel it. It wasn’t a quiet love. It was over-powering. Endless and immeasurable. There was never a reason to doubt it. I am so grateful that you gave us a life where that powerful sense of being wanted and belonging somewhere was taken for granted. We never had to look elsewhere for happiness. Our family held it all. The six of us. The Sledge Six. We were all that mattered to me. And you were the glue. I was so content with where we were in our lives. Because time was moving so quickly and we need to appreciate what we had when we had it. But as much as I thought I knew what that meant, I still feel like I never appreciated what we had enough. Im so selfish. I know that it was hard for you here. And yet I can’t stop thinking “Why did you have to go?” And for the life of me, I can’t think of a reason that was worth breaking us apart. Because if we had each other, nothing else mattered. 

I love all of our traditions. I love being weird with you. I love that I could insult you and you wouldn’t get offended because you knew that I was joking. Because you could do the same to me. I got my sense of humor from you and in this letter to you I don’t have it in me to even say anything witty or ironic. I got so much of my personality from you. My sense of humor, my blunt honestly, my inability to take mess from anyone and yet still my laid back attitude. I can pinpoint these traits of mine because they were so obviously yours. I just mirror them back. Makes sense that we’d end up so alike. We spent enough time together. Dumpster diving and building things, and watching sports and rehearsals for Some Days You’ve Got To Dance.

You were my rock. 

My fire. 

My strength and convictions.

My buddy

You were the only one who did so many things. Who is going to call me Bluey now? Who is going to argue with me even when we are agreeing and make me lists of books? Who am I going to share my country music with and scream the Sharknado theme song? Who is going to cry when they taste my food?

I wish I would have talked to you more, told you more. I am so angry at myself for it and its one of my biggest regrets. Mama says to keep talking to you and Im trying, but its not the same. I want you to interrupt me and make jokes and argue with me and talk AT me. I don’t think I ever fully thanked you to your face for how special you made our lives, but I’ve always been so grateful. We are such a special family. The bond that we have is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. But you built that. You and mama. 

You always said that we’d be fine. How am I supposed to be fine? I always nodded and moved on when you said that. I never put any real thought into what losing you would mean. How broken and empty I would feel without you.

You are the consistent force in my life. You and mama and the girls. I always said that if I had my family I’d be fine. Through everything we’ve gone through, if I had you guys Id be Ok. But know my family is broken. So how am I supposed to be ok?

Its childish and trite but i’ll say it anyway because I’m way past caring. It isn’t fair. I was supposed to have more time with you. Ive thought about this before. You had us so young. We would both be old before i’d have to think about losing you. You’d be 100 and Id be 80 and we’d have long lives together. We were supposed to have time to work through any issues we had and understand each other better. To have long conversations about life and see the world change. What happened? Im still trying to figure it out. You were just here. Just excited for the future. Just looking up tickets for Keiko and I because I mentioned I wanted to got to IMATS. How am I supposed to contemplate life without you? How am I supposed to go through all of these life experiences and not have you to share them with?

I was so scared for you but never for this. That was my one comfort. MS doesn’t kill people. You were going to be around for a long time and we were going to figure out how to make it better for you. You know that machine that helped you stand? I was going to buy it for you. So you could walk me down the aisle. That was literally one of my first thoughts when you showed it to me. You walking me down the aisle was always one of my dreams and suddenly there was the solution. I had it all planned out. I was going to buy it for you and make that dream of yours come true while I was completing one of mine. Im not supposed to be thinking of the future right now. But instead of you wheeling or walking me down the aisle, ill be reading a letter I can’t even hug you for. 

I know you are in Heaven now, Daddy and I draw as much comfort as I can from that. I know that you are healthy and whole. I know you can dance to the Creole music you love so much. You can read again. You can read all the books on the list you made me for yourself and your eyes won’t get tired. You can yell YeeHaw as long and as loud as you can and your lungs will support it. You can write all of your stories with an actual pen because your hands won’t shake. I promise one day i’ll read them all. And so ill try to do my best with the time I have here on earth so that one day I can join you. Ill try and do my best as you would want me to and live my life to the fullest. And Ill remember you, and your smile and your laugh and all the crazy amazing things you did. It’ll hurt every day until I see you.

Ill always be your baby girl. Ill always love you with all my heart. And Ill think of you everyday until we are reunited. 

 I miss you so much. I wish you could have stayed. 

Love you everyday. 

Your baby butterfly

I hate summer. *cue the indignant shrieks from around the world* But I'm not backing down. I'll say it again. I hate summer. A lot. Technically I was born in summer but I associate September with fall. For the LONGEST time I thought I was born in fall. When I learned that the start of fall was after my birthday I was disbelieving. Now I am delusional. I pretend. I want to be associated with vampy clothes and chilly air. The witching months. I don't want to be a summer baby. Because summer is evil and I want nothing to do with it. Let me explain. 

#1: I live in the desert. In a house without air conditioning. We have a swamp cooler that works marginally but it barely helps. I wake up sweating every night. People enjoy summer because they go outside and enjoy nature. It's too hot for that. I avoid going outside at all costs unless it's morning time. But the house isn't much better.

2: When I was younger I would get so excited for summer; not because I actually liked it that much but because it meant the end of school. When I was in high school it meant the end of finals (also known as the death of my soul) I'm not in school anymore. I've graduated and opted out of going to college to focus on the music industry (go ahead. Judge) So that is no longer a selling point. Now it's just that three months span that for some reason other people get excited for, while I sit and suffer.

3: I love nature. I love to hike and I love anything green. Fields and forests and the like. But I'm not a beach person. A fact, actually, that annoys my dad. In his words "How can you be from Florida if you don't even like the beach?!" I'm sorry. I am a mutant. A failure. A mutant failure. (Like the mutants that got rid of their powers in X-Men 3) I just don't see the point of it. It's hot. Sand gets in your lady parts and doesn't come out for WAY TOO LONG. The water isn't deep enough to swim in, and splashing is only amusing for a certain amount of time. If you bring food, expect to eat at least a pound of sand! Delicious and nutritious and SO GOOD FOR YOU. And I don't even need to tan because I get darker just by breathing during summer. For real. I get DARK. That, at least, is nice.

#4: it is a poor alternative to fall and winter and that I think is the worst of all. I love fall. And I love winter. I even like spring. And so summer, in comparison, is just a remarkable disappointment. It makes me like it less when I think about the better seasons that we have, that I'm not living in in that moment.

5: Holidays. Don't get me wrong. I love a good BBQ as much as the next carnivore. But really 4th Of July is like the poor ugly cousin to Thanksgiving. And my Dads a pretty cool dude. But Father's Day? Or Christmas. I'll let you decide.

6: Sports. I am not a generic sports fan. I like Football. And I like Basketball. Football doesn't start until the absolute end of summer. And basketball ends at the beginning of summer. I am actually watching the Basketball finals as I write this (GO WARRIORS!!!!) So I am left with months of NOTHING TO DO WITH MY WEEKENDS. Sad.

7: THE SUN DOES NOT GO DOWN AT A REASONABLE TIME. I AM VERY ANGRY ABOUT THIS. THIS MADNESS NEEDS TO BE STOPPED. WHY AM I YELLING?!?!?! 

8: Fashion. Studies show tights are cuter than shorts. Boots are cuter than sandals. And trench coats are cuter than, well, no jacket at all. And girls look much more adorable and huggable in oversized sweaters than they do in tank tops. Ok. Maybe that's a lie. I don't have studies to back that up. But we all know it's true, so why argue? Peace, friends. 

9: Curling up with tea, some warm smelling candles, a fire in your fireplace and a good book. I don't even need an adequate comparison. Honestly that stands alone.

10: Kinda the same as number 7, but as I said I am very angry about this. I have a very hard time getting on a sleeping schedule because the sun goes down too late. And because it is too hot, I sleep horribly. I rarely sleep through the night. If I only wake up once, that's a good night. I am ALWAYS tired during summer. Even my trusty side kick, coffee, doesn't work all the time. It's miserable. My personality goes down in charming points by 27% during summer because of my lack of sleep. 

Honestly I could go on and on but the Warriors are getting spanked and they need my support. So here is a short list of things fall and winter have over summer.

Halloween

Soup (one of my favorite main food groups) 

My dog will lay with me because she doesn't get too hot.

BAKING. (I refuse to turn on the oven in summer for obvious reasons)

Black clothing. My witchy heart sings with joy. 

My makeup doesn't melt just because I breathed and it offended Mother Nature. 

Etc

Now I know that there are many out there that love summer. And I'm not saying you're wrong. Just misguided. Happy summer everybody.

My band and I were able to meet and work with a really really high powered writer the other day. It was a really validating experience. The meeting was set up by a mutual friend who believes in us and what we do but the writer we were meeting with didn't really know much about us; except for a slight paragraph long bio and our music video which he had watched. So we got to the studio he was using and I immediately knew he seemed like a nice guy. The benefit of being a socially awkward human is that I tend to have a really good read of people. I can tell if they're going to mesh well with us or not. And I could automatically tell that he was a genuinely nice person. We went upstairs to his studio and we all were just talking for a while. 

At first he was acting a bit like a mentor or instructor, telling us how he likes to help people write better and giving us tips about how we need to write more and how to take everyday experiences and turn them into songs. He said he wanted to help us and how he was grinding for a long time before he got a placement.  

So then we went over to his computer and he played a few of his songs for us. I thought that they were really good and the production of the songs was all really well done. He had a country song that I really liked but I'm biased. I LOVE country music. 

Then we started playing him OUR music and that's when it became validating. This guy had written for some amazing people, and he was sitting there, shaking his head saying at intervals "You wrote this?" Or "This is a hit!" Or "Your voice is sick." To our singer. And one point a song he had been playing had only gotten through about 15 seconds before he stopped it and said "Whoooooooo.... I wasn't ready!" We all started busting up laughing and he started the song over. My little sister and I were just dancing around the whole time. Is dancing to your own music vain? I don't know. Anyway, he just kept looking at us and smiling when he really liked something. A lot of the time he just had his head resting on his hands and we would randomly hear him mutter approving noises. At the end of it all (we played a couple of songs live for him too) he was saying "I am a fan. You guys are absolutely amazing." And telling our manager we needed to get together to write songs as soon as possible. 

It was awesome. Sometimes I don't know how I feel about our own songs because we've heard them so many times. It's easy to get into a rut of self doubt. But experiences like that make me believe that we really have something. There are so many people out there that believe in us. We just need a catalyst. 

*This Post is about a week late 😬 I forgot to post it*

Today was an interesting day. I think the lord was testing us today and we pulled through. Barely. (and I still have most of my limbs to show for it!)
Literally we showed up at our gig tonight and I immediately knew that things weren't going to be ideal. There was a stage with our manager connecting cables to a speaker and all around it, literally surrounding it, were casino tables. Now when your gambling what is more likely to hold your attention? 4 girls on a stage, or your money? Exactly. So we weren't exactly expecting the most engaged crowd ever. The upside was that by the time we got there, they were all half in their cups. Drunk people=good crowds. Just saying. So I go up onto the stage and start setting up my bass head. We had rented everything from Guitar Center and so everything was on stage by the time we got there. We just had to set up. So here I am stacking my head on my speaker, taking it out of its traveling case and then I realize "Where are my cables?" Now because we had this stuff rented my immediate thought is that they are misplaced. So I begin milling around, looking in bags and under things looking for these chords with a growing realization that they were not there. Still not believing it, I joke to my sister that maybe I won't find them and then I won't have to play (she was tired and out of it and I was messing with her that maybe I wouldn't have to play when she was the one falling asleep on her drum chair.) I ask my sister if she had them with the guitar stuff. She doesn't. So I ask our manager of her knew where they would be. That's a no from him, he didn't pick the stuff up from the guitar center location. So I go to our investor who actually did pick everything up. Where are my cables? But he doesn't know what cables he brought back. He just got the stuff they gave him. It's about this point that I think "they're not here." But as not to stress anyone out I google whether or not I can use an instrument cable instead of a speaker cable. They gave us an instrument cable with my bass rig so I thought maybe that's what they meant for me to use. Google gives me a hard and fast no and since the Internet is the all knowing oracle for all of life's questions, I know my fate is sealed. I reach the point of no return. Intervention is essential and I finally muster the courage and tell my mom. I have no speaker cable. The sky cracks with lightning and thunder rumbles as I deliver the news. No speaker cable? It can not be. She spreads the news around and an answer is searched for. She calls guitar center and asks if they accidentally gave us a instrument cable instead of a speaker cable. Probably. The problem is, the guitar center is an hour and a half away and we can not get there in time, but a quarter inch speaker cable is common enough. So radio shack is called. Good news is found there, they sell quarter inch speaker cables. But they closed five minute from the time they were called and we were ten minutes away. Our investor ran over after obtaining a promise that they would stay open. At this point I'm just sitting behind the drums talking to my littlest sister about teen titans. There was nothing I could do about it so I washed my hands of it. Little do I know at this point that the power chord that they gave to me earlier really wasn't for me. It was for the PA speaker. So I have no power chord. And the whole PA system, isn't working. So we have no Mics. Great. My older sisters face is slowly settling into the expression she reserves purely for situations of extreme stress. The singer who's usually only job is to show up drops another revelation to me, long known by now to everyone else. The microphones for her main vocal and the background vocal Mics are actually instrument Mics. This is previously unbeknownst to me. I was chillin. The speaker cable arrives to a general sigh of relief, so I rouse my tried bones to stand and prepare myself to play. I plug in, turn on my amp aaannnnnddd nothing. I was able to borrow a power chord from the venue but there's No sound at all. My mom is so frustrated at this point. She tells me just to try the instrument cable. Again. Nothing. So guitar center is called again (this makes what? Call number 97?) this time I'm put on the phone. If I could pin point a time where I really start freaking out, this would be it. I hate being on the phone. My social anxiety bites and kicks even at this slightest form of virtual human interaction. My hands are shaking as I try to explain what's happening (aka nothing) as he looks at the same amp on his side. Turns out, even though we verified we could use a quarter inch speaker cable with him before, we can't use a quarter inch cable. That whole store run was for nothing. So now my mom says that just the singer and guitar player just need to do something acoustic. So I resume my position with the drummer behind her drums with the impression I'm not playing. Apparently, our investor was not willing to have us all not perform so he put my mom on the phone with the poor guy from guitar center again, and my mom was so mad at this point. I see her go up to the speakers but I'm barely paying attention anymore. I'm talking and I take off my jacket, hat and put up my hair preparing just to watch the show, so I'm not in it anymore. Then my mom runs up to me "Plug in your bass we got it figured out."
What?
So now I'm flustered again, not mentally prepared to get on stage. My mom shows me how to run my head through the PA directly.
And then we just have to start. We've been milling around the stage for about two hours at this point, trying to figure this out, so our "sound check" is the guitar player strumming and me trying to level my bass with her and a quick "check check" on the mic. I had to take my microphone chord to use for my amp head, so I have no way to sing.
We have someone run up to the stage and introduce us and then we're on.
So we are all just trying to shake off all the stress that was weighing on is. The drummer and I are doing deep breathing exercises and stretching our faces while we're getting introduced.
And after ALL OF THAT.., it actually wasn't bad.
Somehow amazingly we pulled off an ok show with my mom and manager being the sound engineers as we performed. My stage show was sub par because I couldn't hear myself and the drummer couldn't hear me, so I was standing right next to her to we could stay in sync. I was watching her leg and her my fingers so we could essentially "hear" each other, while there was really no sound, a skill we have developed over the years of bad sound at shows. But we sounded pretty good. And it was fun. However remember the fact of the casino tables? So there we were doing our thing and playing to the best of our ability and we reach the point, a low point someone would say, where we finished a song and only one person clapped. The kicker? It was our manager. But whatever. We all had fun. We kept playing and powering through and we got mixed reactions. Sometimes we got really good applause and sometimes we... Didn't. But that was to be expected because of the crowd we were playing for. And after we were done, we left all of our stuff there, left, went to IHOP and I stuffed my face with a dessert crepe. All in all it was a good night.

I am getting really really excited for Christmas. Just doing little things gets me really pumped this season. Yesterday my mom and my older sister and I went out for hours! Just having fun and Christmas shopping. I had to get a present for my little sister who is my secret Santa and it took me FOREVER to decide what to get her! I get really stressed out for secret Santa because it's like the ultimate test of how well you know someone. If they don't like it then maybe you weren't paying good enough attention to their likes and dislikes throughout the year. I know to the rest of the world it's probably not that big of a deal, but I managed to stress and stress walking through the isles. But it was still fun stress because it was CHRISTMAS stress. I thought I had decided on what to get and I went to the store with the specific intention to get a book that I really liked when I was younger that I thought she would like. And of course, because life likes to mess with me, they only had the second series. Keep and mind that I had already stressed about this a few days before for hours until I came up with this idea. So this sent me into a tailwind of confusion. So I wandered with my sister a bit and she helped me come up with an idea while we sipped our skinny peppermint lattes. (Because holiday cheer still needs to be healthy!) My mom told us to stay away from her because she didn't want us to see what she was getting, so whenever we'd hear her (mostly by her coughing. We've all been sick and she has a very distinct cough) we'd whisper a little scream and run the other way. We really don't want to know what we are getting. It ruins the surprise. Eventually I decided to make her a semi-homemade sweater. I hope she will like it, my older sister thinks she will. I got a little saucy at the midway point of my decision making because I felt like I was holding everyone up and it was making me uncomfortable, causing me to snap at my mom for no reason (IM SORRY!!!!) but my spirits were restored after I came up with my idea. We had already done some shopping at target and some returns for stuff we had bought too much of, so we headed to the mall. We had a delicious lunch/dinner at Red Robin. (So maybe Christmas cheer doesn't have to be THAT healthy) I can't remember what my burger was called but it had ghost pepper sauce in it. SO GOOD. Usually burgers they market as spicy are not actually spicy, but this one had a nice slow burn. I bought the sweater I needed for my present at Forever 21 and they were having a crazy 1/2 off the clearance sale. So what started as us buying a few things for my littlest sister, turned into us all grabbing a few things. My mom specifically told us to only get stuff for our little sister, but when my older sister showed my mom some cute stuff she had found for herself, mama said "You should grab some more pieces!" So I ended up getting some cute stuff. I told myself "Just don't get anything black" because my whole wardrobe is black (I was trying to diversify) and I ended up with mostly black things. At least I tried. Kind of. What can I say. I like my clothes black like my soul. Listing all this stuff might seem a little mundane, but just being able to walk around and truly enjoy each other's company and the holiday season is such a blessing. It makes me so happy just to wander through stores and see Christmas decorations. To know that we are out BECAUSE it's the Christmas season. Even when we don't buy anything or really accomplish much it's so enjoyable. I think it's true what they say about this time of the year. There is just something about it that lifts the spirits. My mama was saying the same thing, how much she enjoys this time of year and just getting out and how she can feel the cheer in the air. She doesn't like to be at our house too much when there are so many things we can enjoy. The other day was the coldest day we've had this season (30 degrees! It was so nice!) and she told us she wanted us to get dressed so we could go out because "It's so chilly. We need to get bundled up and go Christmas shopping." We didn't even end up doing much. She wanted to hear some of the things that we wanted and let us get some of the things we needed for gifts. When we were driving home she said she had just wanted to go out because it was the perfect holiday weather. Or she'll order a Christmas flavored drink because she has to, because it's the season and we'd be missing out otherwise. Mama brings so much holiday cheer into our everyday lives just by doing tiny things. She has to turn on the 24 hour hallmark Christmas movies every night so we can get in the holiday mood and she had to gradually put more and more presents under the tree so we get more and more excited. She let me buy a bunch of art supplies because she wanted us to do holiday crafts and then her and I stayed up way too late making angels and snowmen. She's so cute. She wants the holidays to be perfect for us. And not only with presents, though she did notice I  didn't give her a list and kept asking me for one until I texted it to her, but just in small things that remind us that the holidays are upon us. She makes lists and makes sure all four of us are evenly looked out for and barely asks for anything. My sister and I were surprised when she voluntarily said she wanted a specific grinch that stole Christmas mug yesterday. So thank you Mama for always bringing the cheer (even if we are really bad at making the advent rings!) Christmas is so close!! I'm so excited, even though I get really sad when it's over. It just seemed to spring on me this year. There's a week to go and I've barely accomplished a quarter of my intended gifting. I need to get on it. But I tell myself "IVE STILL GOT TIME." Until the day before. Literally. I cant remember a Christmas Eve where I wasn't making some gift or another. And of course the next week is going to be really busy so I am probably going to have no time to finish. But whatever. I'll figure it out. I (almost) always do! Now I'm off to make broccoli cheddar soup! (SOUP SEASON!!! *Squeals*)

It's been over a full week since thanksgiving and I'm only just now getting over the sickness that stopped me from enjoying the holiday as I wanted to. I still have a cough and my nose keeps getting stuffy, but other than that I'm better. The problem is the days that I wanted to be healthy are gone. Today doesn't matter, what mattered was last week Thursday when it was MY RIGHT to eat my weight in pecan pie and that right was revoked by a loss of appetite and a cough. For the last couple of years I did almost the whole meal for my family, and it's come to be something I really look forward to doing. But because I was sick, I was only able to make the turkey, the stuffing and all the desserts because no had done them the day before. Luckily I have a mama, who somehow managed to make the whole meal before I started cooking without me for like 16 years, who picked up the reigns. But up until the day before I thought I was going to be able to handle it. I was feeling really really bad but I had suffered through the desserts so I thought I MIGHT be able to pull it off. But as I was getting ready for bed, I realized it probably wasn't going to happen. I told my mom, and she said "Great. Now I've got to prepare for that." She was joking but still I know she hadn't been expecting to have to make it.

But after everything was said and done, I actually didn't mind that much. I had told my mama a couple of days before that as much as I love cooking, there is something extremely comforting about bundling up and watching the parade with the ambient noise of mama cooking in the background. There is something that feels very nostalgic about it. I makes me feel young and remember all the years of not even being allowed in the kitchen and the anticipation that came from it. So even though I felt horrible, and even though I wasn't able to cook, I still enjoyed the morning. I wasn't stressed (I get really stressed when I  cook) and I could really feel like it was a thanksgiving from I was younger. It was nice. But then I couldn't eat much and that kind of ruined it. Because as much as I love cooking, my mamas food is AWESOME. 

Me: I'm ok with you making the meal it's just.... Nevermind.

Mama: Wait, what were you going to say.

Me: *can't stop laughing.*

Mama: What were you going to say?

Me: I was just going to ask if you were able to do it by yourself but then I realized that you had been doing for 16 years before I started.

Mama: Wooooooowwwww. *turns to sister who is sitting in the back seat* Did you hear that?

Me: Still laughing* THATS WHY I DIDNT WANT TO SAY IT!

The cashier at stater brothers today thought me and my little sister were twins. I'm 19. She's 13. That's a pretty big gap. Now granted, she is very tall and she had a heel on that basically made us the same height and I had on no makeup so my acne was out in full force, but still. I have never gotten that question before with her. I have been asked if my older sister and I were twins (usually when I have a lot of makeup on) and my littlest sister has been asked a lot if her and the sister right above her were twins. But the youngest and the second eldest? That's a first. And then when I said "no, I'm 19 and she's 13." The cashier didn't believe me. She said "No! You're 19? 19? She looks 13 but you? No..." I had to try to convince her that I was telling the truth! Now. If I was self conscious about that, that could have become every uncomfortable very fast! But I actually love looking younger. I told her as much and she agreed with me. I think it's something that most women can relate to! I feel and act very young still even though I am TECHNICALLY an adult (ew.) So I would rather people assume I'm young. I always say, my life would be 50% easier if I just went back to middle school. My mom even told me a couple of weeks ago, that with no makeup on and my hair a mess (my hair is USUALLY a mess) I could be taken as a middle schooler. Cool. Sign me up. Sadly, I can't just give up on life, throw my hands up, and go back to the 6th grade. (Trust me on this. I checked.) So I suppose the next best thing is being assumed to be 13. And anyways. When I'm older, I am going to be so grateful that I look young. (Bless my Asian genes) My family in general looks really young. My mom and dad were carded until they were in their 30s! If I can be 30 and still thought to be a teenager? Goals. So it really doesn't bother me. Of course my little sister thought it was hilarious. She would LOVE to be thought to be older! Who doesn't at 13? And of course to her mind she probably thought that the cashier was saying that she looked 19, not that I looked 13. Then I told my older sister when we got home and she said "That is the best thing I've ever heard!" While cracking up then proceed to make me replay the story to my dad, who also thought it was hilarious. (To my little sister "She didn't think you were twins with the 15 year old, but the 19 year old?" Shakes head and laughs) 

Perhaps to them it's a little odd and a hilarious joke for someone who's graduated highschool to be mistaken for a 8th grader and like it 

They all think it's weird to be thought of to be younger. Meanwhile I'll just be sitting here watching cartoons, eating cereal out of the box and waiting for Incredibles 2 to come out. Because that statement was oddly validating to me.