Puberty's a Bitch

It seems to me when I got off the plane in Buenos Aires I unexpectedly went through puberty again. I thought my years of feeling huge and awkward were long behind me, but oh no, it seems like I am, yet again, the tall uncomfortable girl in class.

I did not come into maturity gracefully (for those of you who missed this fabulous time in my life let me illuminate); unlike some of my cute-as-a-button classmates, I was the first one in a bra and the first one to be over 100 pounds. Oh the acne breakouts, the greasy face and the BO.

How could I not want those days back?

Why, you may ask, am I feeling like I have been tossed back into the throws of puberty? 

Let me explain:

The people here are tiny. I think the average height is the size of my bubbie.

I was taller than her when I was 11.

I am neither a tall nor a big girl by any means. But at a towering five foot five and an ungodly weight of 135 pounds I am somewhat of a mutant here. Perhaps it is from our steroid enhanced milk or maybe it’s something in the water, whatever it is, I am accustomed to walking into a clothing store and saying “I’ll take the biggest thing you got.”