September 29th, 2009
I can hike for four hours nearly solid with nary an ill health effect, but apparently I can’t take a leisurely stroll down the seawall without ripping all the flesh from my heels. I guess my hiking shoes are less hard on me than my runners, or hiking is less hard on me than walking. In the absence of a randomized controlled trial is it impossible to say for sure but go ahead, make an assumption. I don’t judge.
This has put me in the mind of other failings that this mortal shell of mine commits. I am not the shrimpiest person you’ll ever meet but I am on the short side and this has always been something of a personal tragedy. I have always admired tall women and when they start offering leg implants I will be first in line. Just think of the advantages: for starters I’d be able to reach the high shelves in the kitchen, which in my case includes the liquor cabinet. Also how awesome would I look if I were closer to six feet tall as opposed to my current proximity to five? Answer: super awesome!
I would also like to have skin that could self regulate rather than my own epidermis which requires constant maintenance with moisturizer otherwise I turn into a lizard/raisin hybrid and become indistinguishable from a dessicated mummy. Which is to say dry. I like moisturizing as much as the next person but there are days when I would prefer to skip it but I dare not lest someone set me afire in an attempt to get my evil curse to end.
Also, this is really trivial, but I do wish I had nice long fingers. I got my dad’s hands and though they have great utility for most tasks they will never make it as concert pianists. They are boxy and a little on the stumpy side which causes me to do a lot of wistful sighing when I see women with long fingers.
Finally, I could complain about my eyes here but really, I have been wearing glasses since the fourth grade and I just don’t think of my vision as an issue. Especially once I bought the super light frameless glasses, dealing with my short sightedness is almost effortless and the only time I have to think about it is when I come in from the cold and the lenses fog over and blind me. Or when they get rained on, that’s a hassle. But you know, I wear my glasses for more hours of the day than my underpants so they just seem like part of me. And frankly glasses are less of a hassle than underpants because glasses never give you a wedgie.
I was wondering how you were going to bring it back around to the title. Clever.
The secret is to pick the title at the end. Procrastination appears as cleverness!
“I am on the short side and this has always been something of a personal tragedy. ”
A buddy of mine who reads about such things says that men have an instinctive preference for smaller women over larger. Given how adorable you are, I’m in no position to dispute his assertion.
-Jonathan