I'm Short...All the Time

I embrace my short stature, but recognize that it puts me in awkward situations every once in a while. Like today, when I gave a campus tour to a group of local fourth graders. Several of them were the same height as (if not taller than) I am. A few of them pointed this out to me. Yeah, kids. I'm  aware that I look like I may or may not be your classmate .

But that sort of thing happens at least once a week. Conversations like the one below only happen once in a while. I bring my food up to a cashier at ABP, not really looking for a conversation. Apparently, I was destined to get one anyway. I hand him my student ID so that I can pay with Crimson Cash and the guy kind of laughs at me:

Cashier: "You're a student in college?"

Me: *smiling* "Yeah, I am."

"But you look so young"

"I know. It's because I'm really short. I'm tiny."

"Yeah. But you also look really young."

Awesome. Even the guy who rings up my food every day thinks that I'm some strange 12 year old college student.  

I am 4 feet and 11 inches tall. I am 19 years old. I know that I am short. I can't open or close my skylight without standing on my desk chair and I can't reach the top shelf at CVS if an item is pushed back from the edge.

Such is life.

A Small Revelation

I really am short. And I believe that I started this blog based on my adventures as a petite female in a world that has me constantly on my tip-toes. I suppose I don't write about being short very much because I often forget about it. It's like having brown hair or being right handed. You don't think about it everyday. However, every once in a while, something happens to remind me that I am really.really.short.

This is my friend Nolan. There is a most impressive height difference between the two of us. If he would only grow another inch (because I'm unwilling to shrink an inch), we would have a TWO FOOT HEIGHT DISCREPANCY. If only. As it is, his waist hits me at my shoulders. His legs are approximately four fifths of my entire height. Yikes.

Perhaps my decision to befriend the tallest people that I come across is part of my constant desire to live vicariously through a tall person. I often think about how different my life would be if I wasn't 4'10". Here's a list of my musings:

• I would spend less time on my tiptoes (con: I would have weak, sad, fleshy calves).
• I would always be able to reach the top shelf (con: I wouldn't get to develop the sweet climbing skills that I've acquired over time).
• I would see fewer chests and more tops of heads in my daily passings. I would love to see more faces.
• Crowded shuttles, parties, events etc. would be much less awkward (again, refer to the previous "seeing lots of chests" comment).
• I would probably lose my statuses as limbo and hide-and-go-seek champs. Am I really willing to risk this?
• I would actually have to walk with the crowd, instead of weaving my way in and out of small pockets of space until reaching my destination. 
• People would stop commenting on my height. Although by this point, I don't particularly care anymore.
• "Life is short." Clearly, I'm well adapted. I'm sure that Darwin would agree.

Final verdict? I have none. I wish that I could be tall for a day to see what it's like. I've grown so accustomed, however, to my stature that maybe living petite-ly is for the best. 

I'm so small. 

Dawwwww.