Tuesday, July 30, 2002
 

Semi-amusing incident from this afternoon:

Early this afternoon, I went to the local high school with my father to pick up his football tickets. I'd never been inside the new high school before (this will be its third year in operation, I think), so I wanted to see what it was like. It's very nice, for the record, and actually attractive, as far as things like high school buildings go. The hallways are very wide and high-ceilinged, and all the subjects are grouped together in little U-shaped classroom alcoves, I guess you'd call them, off the main hall. There's a large atrium indoors, except the floor is cracking where water has gotten under the floor, and those stairs are consequently condemned (a fact which has not yet been made public, and I don't think my blog counts as public, sadly).

Anyway, the building was open for touring because students were picking up their schedules today. All the signs that were up indicated things about registration, and there were no signs for ticket pickup. So we ducked into the main office and asked an administrative assistant there where we should go. She started to give directions and then turned to me to ask if I was a student (presumbably thinking that would make direction-giving easier). I said no, and she said "oh, not yet, then." I responded that I was in fact 22 (I kept my groaning mental). She then added (insult to injury) and said that I looked like I was 12.

The upshot: I am now taking hair, makeup, and wardrobe suggestions that will make me look older than a preteen. Bear in mind that much makeup makes me look like a sleazy 12-year-old.

Elvisette philosophized at 4:28 PM