But apparently, wearing the T shirt and sitting behind the booth with all of the Harvard pamphlets just doesn't tell everyone that I am indeed a student at the aforementioned institution. Once again, something has gotten lost in translation simply because I am a petite female. Here's a recount of a conversation I had with a rising high school freshman who just wants to be a psychologist (she unfortunately couldn't really pronounce the name of her dream profession, but I guess she's got a few years to figure it out).
Kid: "Wait, so you go to Harvard?"
Me: "Yes I do!" <--Exclamation point for extra spirit and pizzazz and sparkles and shit.
"WOAH!" But you're so young!"
"Oh no, no, I'm nineteen. I know, I'm just pretty short."
"Oh my gawwwwwd! I totally though you were like, fourteen!"
So apparently, I can pass for a child prodigy. I guess that's cool? More ironic about this interaction was that I was sitting in a chair with my legs hidden behind a table skirt, meaning that she based her assumption that I was a pre-teen solely on the height of my torso. Is my mid-section really that small?! I always thought it was in the legs.
Here's a quick PSA to everyone who notices that I'm below average height (so, everyone) : I will be twenty years old in a few months and I do not have dwarfism. If you decide that you must announce that I look like a teeny-bopper, YOU ARE NOT THE FIRST PERSON TO DO SO. In fact, I prefer short jokes to flat out statements that I'm tiny (I'll probably totally regret saying this). At least if what you're telling me has some sort of punchline, I can assume that you're willing and able to think creatively, rather than simply notice and state the very painfully obvious.
And if I tell you my age, you don't have to respond with how young you thought I was. I know, I know. I'll appreciate it when I'm 40. But not until then.
On the upside, I'm going to be a freaking adorable little old lady one day.