10 17 pm pdt   [ on being short ]

I just loved the new X-men movie. Never have I sat in a theatre and wanted to see the sequel before the credits rolled. It was sublime and satisfied my action film craving to a T.

My sister is in town. She is an inch shorter than me. She wears the same bra size and she is the exact same weight as me. Her shoe size is one size larger than mine. She's 14 and I'm 22, and I think I'm jealous that she's still growing. We all know she's going to be taller than me, and that makes me grouchy.

Don't get me wrong. I like being small. Being petite and having long hair are the two most powerful ways I identify myself physically. And I'm not actually very short, but added together with being thin and looking young, and I feel very short. In addition, I was very short when I was growing up. I was also ahead in school by a year, so I had the added shortness of being behind everyone developmentally by a year. Lastly, I was a late bloomer.

To these factors, we add the fact that my dad was short (and no doubt got teased about it) growing up. He transferred his issues to me via countless measurings on doors and back to back comparisons with friends and relatives [I am the tallest woman on my dad's side of the family]. He always made such a big deal about my height (or lack thereof). I believe that nothing makes him prouder than the fact that my brother is 6'2.

He has also transferred his issues to my sister, and so now she makes a huge production of her height whenever we are together. She will be taller than me, and I just have to accept that...

..........

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