You know, today was lovely. Awesomely lovely. Normal in every way as I headed toward Target for miscellaneous crap and cat food. And then....
Two hours later I had retrieved not one, but THREE bottles of freakin' Pantene from ten feet in the air. I nearly dropped some patio planter on my head to the utter joy of the slew of toddlers watching, and I put my lower back out shoving Begging Berta's box-o-dishes into her cart.
Do I WORK at Target? NO. Am I a nun out to earn my place in the heavens with good deeds and charity? NO. (did I forget to mention the fifteen minutes I stood with my arms over my head, holding up CURTAINS for this yoda-esque old lady who just "didn't know if they were long enough for my windows deary..." )
My day in Target was brought to you due to my jeans. No, not "genes." The ones on my derriere with the 36 inch inseam.
The saga begins....
My first memory of how absurd the world was going to be was walking into a new class in 4th grade and having a complete stranger--an adult--shake my hand. She thought I was the substitute. Smack you not. Now remember, this is nearly 30 years ago when they did NOT have "cool kid clothes" in larger styles. (cringe) Ooooh, the pictures in my mind....it was frightening. There was lots of polyester. And elastic. (shudder)
I grew so fast I out-paced every ounce of coordination the good Lord gave me. There wasn't a stairwell I couldn't fall up. Cracks in the sidewalk were like engraved invitations for me to faceplant. I misjudged doorways, ate soccor ball nets, and on one brilliant occasion--nearly decapitated myself in my own locker.
And then there was my name. Now seriously, I took french--and I know that it's a french name and that it means "to sing" and all the lovely stuff.....but I swear, it's ChanTEL. Not ChanTALL. *sigh* "Hightower" was bad enough--we won't even GO into "Show-n-tell." Like dude, you get asked out by ALL the wrong guys...
I'd like a dime for every time someone has said to me, "Oh--I'd LOVE to be tall..." Really? You haven't lived until you have wet down a pair of jeans, closed the ankles in the dorm door, and leaned your entire being into stretching them....just....thiiiiiiis....much. Of course, when the roommate opens the doors causing the jeans to whip at lightspeed through the air leaving rivet marks on your face....the night has just begun.
My chest is eye-level for half of America. My cheeks seem to be magnets--attracting the knife-like little pointy ends of umbrellas city wide. Rainy days are LETHAL to me if I have to go downtown....I look like I'm dodging a hive of wild bees or trying out for some kind of circus limbo act.
One of my arms is longer than the other....not that this actually matters since there isn't a single "off the rack" kinda place I can shop for something long-sleeved. I order everything from a catalog called "Long Elegant Legs."
The mail man thinks I'm buying sleezy lingerie....or porn.
I understand that the world isn't fair. We each have our own list of things we'd like to change about ourselves.
However. I wear a size 12 shoe. Swear.
I think I missed my calling. I should have been a bouncer...
Or worked for Target.
17 comments:
My kids are tall too. (And skinny.) My 13 year old came home from school the other day where everyone had been writing on their shirts for a fundraiser. He had "How's the weather up there." written all over his shirt. Really? I kept wondering, haven't we gotten a little more original than that after all of these years?
I think I just read the story of my childhood. (To "Just A Mom", a once spit on a boy and told him it was raining)
At 30 years old,I have finally decided that when people give me the, "Wow, you're tall," I will give them a "Wow, (fill in obvious fact about their body here).
I have also stopped slouching next to my hubby, who is a whole 2 inches taller than me, just for the record.
And finally, I will wear whatever flipping inch heels I so desire, and god help you if you ask me if I'm tall enough already, you'll need him...I promise.
Love ya like crazy,
~n
Nicole~ Hahahaha! Spitting on rude boys... love it.
You're right, we all have our trials. It's very kind of you to help the vertically challenged. But Target does have employees, so at least when it comes to the big heavy stuff, Just Say No. The rest of it, sorry, I'm afraid you'll just have to keep ordering stuff that sounds like porn. Great post.
Haha, not a problem in my family at all - my Mum is 5ft! We've all outstripped her, but I'm still only 5'5''. And happy down here near the ground :)
I hear you...I'm 5'10" and have never worn heels in my life because my husband is three inches shorter than me. I actually considered not going out with him when we first met. I remember the disappointment when he stood up. I'm so glad that I decided that it didn't matter to me....I would have missed the best 25 years of my life.
Oh honey, how I remember hearing some of these stories from you...But you carry tall better than anyone else I know. Do you still shop at JJill?
Love ya,
Alison
How tall are you? I am only 5'2, so I will split the difference with you!!!
JAM--seriously? Weather jokes kill me...and I am SO pulling Nicole's "rain" stunt!
Nicole--I adore you, have I told you that lately?
Bliss--trust me, next time I'm making a Target employee follow me around!
Kirsty--alright girl, I'm so jealous you can find pants!
Susan--congrats on the 25 years--rock on tall girl!
Alison--you're the bomb, and yes--JJill is great, they even have a place at the mall!
Danielle--I'm a shade over six feet tall...so if we can pull off a miracle, we'd both be a smashing 5'7"! Bring it ON!!
I swear I will always so your name Chan-TEL. I wear an 11 and my niece wears a 12. My daughter is pretty much headed for our land since at 9 she is wearing a ladies size 5.
Great to meet you!
I am a mere 5' and 1/4" tall. In my teenage years and even into my twenties I always included that one quarter inch when asked my height. Somewhere in my thirties I let it go. Marrying a man who is 6'2" certainly helped improve my quality of life.
I can relate to the awful nicknames all too well, but for me it was always in reference to a different body part. I'll share a secret I hope will make you feel better. Throughout my teenage years, especially the early ones, my nickname was Dolly Parton Junior...or as my cousins affectionately called me, DPJ.
There's nothing half as good as your writing for me to say in response to this post so
Furthermore, your comments are hilarious, too. Case you didn't know, you've earned infamous notoriety in my post today. Just what you always needed.
Goddess--(I'm scheming how to start getting people to call me this...) Lovely to meet you! Big feet rock. :)
Maria--oooh, green-eyed monster here! I keep telling my husband, "if we ever win the lottery I'm getting....." (wicked grin)
Alyssa--LOL! You crack me up--what would I do without your noggin??
I am a fairly average 5'8 and I am always amazed by how often people comment on how TALL I am. So weird, considering I'm not extraordinarily tall. I can't even imagine how annoying it must be for people who ARE tall. I sprouted early and was a good head taller than all the boys I loved in elementary school. Oh the heart ache...
If the rest of you is as appealing as your writing and profile pic then all 6 feet of you is GORGEOUS!! Loving stopping by here as always :)
You are a Goddess that walks among us.
(I hope that I'm lucky enough to meet you one day!)
Now, could you get something off that top shelf for me? ;->
~From your Little-Five-Foot-Ten-Sister, Ann
At 6'3" tall myself, I find tall women irresistable! You sexy thing, you!
I always love coming here...it's always a surprise. This was damn funny.
If I had your long legs, I'd be wearing short skirts and shorts every day.
And never wear a red shirt in Target, even when you're only 5'5".
Have a safe and fun holiday weekend!
Love,
Lola
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