If ever I had any doubt in my mind that we never actually grow up, I now have unequivocal proof that that is indeed the case. I am my own proof, because I’ve now become a forty-year old teenager. I’ve got a crush… a giggly, blushing, heart quickening, hiding behind plants, and driving past his house at night crush. It’s completely ridiculous. It’s also an awful lot of fun. And angst. But also fun.

And I’m so surprised because who would have thought, you know? I’ve been reprimanded already because I’m acting so out of character and how the hell am I going to attract a man if I hide behind plants when I see him, we’re all adults here. Because, I did, I literally ducked behind a plant. He didn’t see me (thank goodness) because, humiliating! Let me be clear though, I’m the first in line to look at myself in total shocked incredulity, when I extricated myself from the foliage I was like what the fuck was that? But it truly was one of those fight (or in this case flirt) or flight responses, my heart was doing triple time, my palms got sweaty and my face blushed, honestly the plant saved me from humiliating myself, or stuttering, or talking uncontrollably. Plants are great.

Also, I’ve apparently lost all ability to interact with men I find attractive. I was never totally great at this, but I also wasn’t quite this terrible. Right now it’s a cute distraction, but how many times can I drive by his apartment before I get cited for stalking?

So I’m a teenager again, and not even the cool as a cucumber teenager that gets all the boys, I’m the nerdy one who makes an ass of herself. I’m just going to go shut myself in my room and listen to angsty music for awhile.