last minute freak-outs and a whole new world.
So I’m on a plane very, very soon.
Have I mentioned my fear of flying? No? Well, that’s because we’re not going to talk about it. We’re just not, so shutup. I have no fear. NO FEAR, YOU HEAR ME?
AT&T update: there’s a $100 credit on my account. That makes me happy. Everything works now. That makes me pretty happy, too. Yes, I can be bought with small amounts of cash. You boys and girls remember that.
Catnip update: this morning the catnip was overturned on the floor. Although the grass survived, there is dirt in the carpet. There was also a suspicious dirt mustache on Taylor’s face. I think they know what this stuff is for. I’m leaving it on ground level from now on.
SXSW update: Check out the finalists for the Best Online Diary award.
E-mail update: if you for some reason get an e-mail from me that simply says “QUIT”, please ignore it. I’m having some wacky e-mail problems with my server. I’ve had three journallers think I want them to drop off the face of the earth.
Update update: the updates for the rest of the week may be sporadic due to travel.
I know I’m going to forget something and remember it on that plane and it will just be too late. Too damn late.
Okay, really I was going to talk about my new shoes.
I bought new big shoes. Big shoes. Big. Like 6-inch heels.
I am finally at the height I’ve always wanted to be. I put them on and stood up and Eric’s eyes widened. Suddenly he had an average-height girlie. He didn’t have to lean over to kiss me and I didn’t have to stand on my toes.
The world makes so much more sense at this height. Doorknobs are in a convenient area. I didn’t bump my arms on them.
I have to bend down to write messages on a table. When I sit in a chair, my feet touch the ground.
People look up to me when they talk to me. They actually look up or they keep their heads at a level angle. No more looking down to see me!
I’m not like 4’3″ or anything, but 5’3″ is still pretty short.
But not anymore, baby!
Eric thinks I’m going to twist my ankles on them, but I don’t care. I didn’t have to cuff my jeans for the first time in my life. I didn’t have to move the seat of my car all the way up. Shelves are at my reach. I didn’t have to jump in the air to grab the vitamins off the kitchen shelves. When I sit at my desk, my knees are comfortably bent. Things that are supposed to be at eye-level finally are.
I love being 5’7″. It’s fucking beautiful. If they could come up with some sort of plastic surgery to make me a taller person, I’d take it. Because I’m gonna be honest with you, there are very few things that make being short a bonus.
I can hide under small things.
I can sit on the low toilet seats without falling on my ass.
I can get kids discounts, shop at Delia’s, and wear boys shoes.
I rarely bump the top of my head.
People think I’m younger than I am.
I might be able to play a role with Tom Cruise.
But for now I love my big shoes. I realize that perhaps I just look like some circus freak walking around in Pee-Wee shoes, but until I see people actually laughing at me (besides my manager, who tried to pull it off like she wasn’t really laughing at me even though I wasn’ t laughing with her), I’m just going to pretend I’m a tall person.
I’m a spy in your tall world.
You can’t stop me.