Apparently my height has been under debate at Quick Story. Just for the record, I am indeed four foot six. You can always ask Ari for confirmation as she has seen me in person. And no, I'm not a dwarf. And no, I don't have a pot of a gold. And no, I do not do midget porn. And no, I will not dress up like a thirteen year old girl. And no, my name is not Smurfette ( do I look three apples high to you?).

And yes, I have been asked all these questions before, some of them more than once.

What interests me is why my height would even be a topic of discussion? Do I seem taller on the blog? Does my hostility towards men take on a different context when you realize I am knee high to a grasshopper?

When I was younger, a child, but not much smaller than I am now ( I stopped growing when I was 12 about the same time everyone started saying to expect a growth spurt), my father used to say "I'm gonna put books are on your head and keep you that size."

Who knew, he wouldn't have to bother?

No, no one in my family is this small. My mother is petite, but she is about five six, and my father was about five nine. My grandmother for a while insisted every time that I saw her that I had grown until I would haul out the measuring tape and prove that I was the same size...still. She too is about average height, maybe a little above.

Honestly, often I am not aware of my size. It's not until I happen to look at a photograph or a video and notice how much smaller I am to other people that I wonder how I seem to other people. Do I really seem that...small?

When I was in college I was close friends with a guy who was six foot four. I used to joke that he was my multiplicative inverse. One night he realized if I stood on a chair, I would be his height. And if he got on his knees he would be mine. So I stood on the chair and he got on his knees. "How the fuck do you walk without constantly tripping and falling?" I asked from on top of the chair. "How are you not terrified of me" he asked me from the carpet.

I find that I tend to befriend tall men. Most of my boyfriends have been over five eleven, a way of being tall by association I suppose. Or at least, a way for me to get the things on the top shelf of the supermarket.

occasionally I see other people on the street who are close to my size. When I see them, I am struck my how small they seem to me. I wonder if this is how I appear to other people. When I was in Ireland, I was befriended by a former jockey. He was about my size, every time he put his arm around me it gave me vertigo. I wasn't used to not looking up.

I admit that often I wish I was taller. Buying clothes would be easier. Being more than just a pair of eyes peering over the counter at the bank would be nice. I'd like to dance with someone cheek to cheek or be able to use all of my cabinet space in my kitchen.

But there are advantages too. I'm fairly sure I am the only person who is comfortable flying coach anymore. I love being picked up and carried around and thanks to my size, that is perfectly do-able. And certainly most men find my height very attractive.

The other day I was in this bookstore and there was a father in there with his daughter. He put a stack of books on her head and said "You know, you're so nice this size. I'm going to books on your head and keep you that way."

I was tempted to rush up to him and say "Oh my god, don't do it. My father used to say that to me when I was child and look what happened!"

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