Musings of an Insomniac

desirablemuffinofdoom:

So now I really kind of feel bad for calling my friend “gigantor” because she apparently has a height complex. I thought she knew how truly beautiful she is. She has long, lean legs that can pull off pretty dresses in ways that my short, round ones cannot. She always looks so stylish and walks with such confidence. Sometime I am really jealous of her and I think she is perfect just the way she is.

My Dearest Darling Anna,

Please don’t feel bad! I know “Gigantor” is not a mean thing and that you guys are just being funny, so don’t worry. I appreciate everything you said and I am flattered, truly. I’m cool with my body and my height a majority of the time, but there are times where I think about certain moments from grade school and high school and I get self-conscious; or I occasionally focus on it now, and I probably spend too much energy thinking about it. Regardless, the lovely things you said made me smile, and I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. You can call me “Gigantor” - I’ll know it comes from a loving place. :) 

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Via Butterscotch is the CHOSEN ONE!

I know that I am young.

I know that the chances of me falling asleep and never waking up at my age are very, very slim.

But I think about it anyway.

And I stay up late, allowing fear to get the best of me as I focus on how much I would hate to die right now.

Because no matter how bad life can get or seems to get it’s always worth living. I might be feeling overwhelmed and hurt, stressed out and under appreciated, or even tired of the day-to-day grind; but I would still rather be on living in this world than buried six feet under. There are people who focus on the bad things they’re experiencing and they get to a point where they get tired of feeling like they’ve hit bottom, and so they contemplate cutting out early. But I think they forget that once you’ve hit bottom you can only go up and get back to the top; and for me, I’ll always be striving to get to the top - regardless of what’s going on.

And so I stay up late and sometimes I don’t sleep, and while it’s partially because I’m scared it’s also partially because I am thinking about how I much I just want to get to the top, and how I just want to keep living so I can get there.

It’s 2:00AM, and I feel I’ve rambled a bit with this post. But I felt compelled to write all of this out here.

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psssh tall people are the best

Stephen Baier’s word is law.

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Being as tall as I am sometimes makes me feel like a tranny.

There’s this guy in my poetry workshop that’s maybe all of 5’ 2” or 5’ 3”, and as I was standing next to him waiting for our classroom to open up I just felt like a giant. It’s still rather weird for me to be significantly taller than many of my friends, and sometimes this weirdness makes me want to apologize for my height.

“I’m sorry I obstruct your view.” 
“I’m sorry if it looks like I’m running away from you - I’m just walking and I take big, fast steps.” 
“I’m sorry you have to strain your neck to see the board.”
“I’m sorry I’m Goliath.”

Two of my friends have affectionately named me Gigantor, primarily because I walk so fast that I normally end up 12 feet ahead of them in public places. I don’t notice until they shout “Hey Gigantor, slow down!” as I strut along. I was always one of the Tall Girls in both grade school and high school whose height was always noted and who received stares from shorter people standing next to them. While this usually didn’t bother me I would sometimes console myself with the fact that there was at least one girl taller than me, and that at least I stopped growing after 5’ 8” and didn’t make it to 6’ (like my sister). Being that tall occasionally makes me feel like a man, and sometimes in public situations I look at my girlfriends and think:
“If a would-be assassin just walked in and started shooting up this Bread Co., I would be the only person big enough to shield and protect us. I would then be the one taking all the bullets. I would die for them and be a hero; but I would also die in the most incredible pain, and that’s one of my greatest fears.”

I think it would be interesting to see the world from the perspective of someone who’s a few inches shorter. I’ve been living in this adult body for so long that I have a genuinely difficult time believing that I was ever a tiny person, and I would not mind just having that experience for a 24-hour span of time. Sure, I would really have to stretch to reach for things; I wouldn’t see as well at concerts; and I would have to look up at everyone I talked to, but it would be something different.

At least at 5’ 5” I wouldn’t feel like a tranny. No one would ever assume I’m hiding a penis and stuffing my bra if I wasn’t as close to the average man’s height.   

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Tall girl problems Height Personal Body size

Things could always be worse.

You could have lost your ID card. You could have lost your phone or iPod. ALL of your pants could be too tight. You could have tripped on the sidewalk, fallen, and torn your pants in front of everybody. You could have fallen and broken your nose in front of everybody. Your shower could be broken. The birds could have used your car for target practice. Someone could have stolen your car. Someone could have stolen your identity. Someone could have stolen your wallet and drained your bank account, leaving you broke and indebted. You could be failing all of your classes. Your parents could have thrown the rest of your belongings out of the house. You could have AIDS. You could have Ebola. Everyone you love could have died today, and you might not have been able to do anything to stop it.

None of these things happened to me today, so I should feel thankful and positive, especially after making that list.

But yet I feel sad, and can’t help but focus on those achy feelings instead of being thankful that my day, my week, and my year has not gotten worse. 

I’m going to go make hot chocolate and try to cheer up.

Stream of Consciousness #8. 

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Dear Lauren,

You are more than capable of finishing your homework for you practical criticism class the night before it is due. You can do it - it’s been done before. Waking up at 7:00 every Tuesday and Thursday morning just to do your homework sucks, especially when you know you could be sleeping until 9:30 had you stopped procrastinating.

You’re an adult. Stop doing this to yourself. Get some sleep.

Love,
Yourself

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Feeling the Pull

Now, with little else to do,
I shut my eyes and think of you.
I’m in a state of distress, dear, but
you’re not here to see me through.

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Personal Musings Poetry

I just can’t handle it.

I can’t handle any more updates, statuses, pictures, or stories about engagement rings, wedding planning and ideas, and the actual weddings themselves. It’s not that I don’t support anyone’s relationship or that I’m going to completely dump all over marriage, because I think it can be an absolutely wonderful thing, but I really cannot handle anything related to weddings right now. And I don’t want to turn this into one long, sad, irritated diatribe about why these matrimony-related posts are slowly killing me and why engaged people who are my age are scaring the crap out of me, so I’m just going to end with this:

I’m fucking tired of the wedding/engagement talk. 
If you post anything about wedding planning, I am going to ignore it - and I might even unsubscribe from you for a while.
I am so close to jumping off of a bridge with this that it’s not even funny.
While I’m thrilled that your fairy tale is coming true, my personal life is in shambles (or at least it feels that way).
The wedding posts are not helping.

I am Bridget Jones, and you’re killing me over here.  

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