as an aside, i’d like to thank everyone who came to the show last night. i’d also like to thank the people who wanted to come but couldn’t. what a huge thrill to have so many friends and family come out to see you cuss like a sailor. i was so overwhelmed, i came home and threw up….or that could have been the overdose of allergy medicine and ricola cough drops. i call false advertising on those mofos. i am not feeling like yodeling on a mountain top. i am feeling like hanging in bed in my nightie drinking copious amounts of water through a straw. maybe, that’s a big maybe getting my sorry self out of bed in time to play a 8:00 game of footie. this may be the very definition of getting old. so i hope that you find, inside all of this complaining, the intended thanks. i truly am blessed.
and now for the real reason that i write today….
i have never minded being short. i yam what i yam. at 5’3″ i am the tallest i have ever been in my life right now. i should embrace this stature before i begin to lose it. last night in the green room, i was talking with the other girls in the show. many of whom were really super tall…like 5’5″ and up (insert giggle here) i was touting the fabulosity that is my life as a short woman.
1)i can wear capris as full length pants
2)i always look down while walking because it’s much more likely that i will trip than that i will bump my head on anything.
3)strangers always want to help me carry my crate of 6 glass milk bottles to my car at market.
4)due to my big mouth, people always are surprised to find out how short i am.
5)i still get carded at the liquor store.
then there is the down side
1)i have to climb up on the sinks to close the windows above them
2)most ladders are not tall enough
3)capris look like pants on me.
4)because of my shelf like bootie petite clothes don’t really work for me
5)same goes for my manlike “guns” that i am forced to call arms.
i hear all of the time that i am built like a sprinter. i was a sprinter….25 years ago. now sprinters are 11″ tall.
that’s ok though, those tall folks can wear their full length pants that look like capris and keep hitting there heads on tree branches…i’m good.
my dushie tells me my legs go all the way up