A few weeks ago, I was teasing a friend about having the dreaded misfortune of eating alone in a dining hall. Their response: "Man, 5-foot-2 and saucy!"
This was one of the most exciting moments of my life. It was better than my high school graduation, than when "Glee" finally came back on air and I highly anticipate that it just might be better than my wedding.
Let me explain. I am 5-foot and live in a world full of tall people. To say that I am short just doesn't feel descriptive enough, so let me give you a basis of comparison: I am shorter than the average college student but taller than a legal midget. I guess a more succinct measuring comparison would be that I am within the height range of a middle school student. That's right. Most people who are six or seven years younger than I am are either right at my eye level or taller.
It should come as no shock, then, when I say that one of the major goals I've had in my life - since I was about 15 years old, anyway - has been to grow 3 more inches. It seems easy enough, right? Wrong. During the past 11 years, I have grown a total of 4 inches. Moreover, this morning the greatest source of knowledge
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