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I’m Shrinking

It’s been years since I’ve had my height measured because it seemed unnecessary. At the doctor’s office I’d just wave it off and tell them 5′10″. Well today I went along with it and the nurse said I was 5′9″ (and 1/4). I made her do it again because I couldn’t believe it but sure enough, I’ve lost almost an inch. I don’t mind that I’m shorter because I always thought I was too tall and wished I could shave off an inch or two but it really screws with my sense of identity. I’ve been 5′10″ since I was about 13 so when people ask it will be bizarre to have to start saying 5′9″. Or weirder yet, now that I’m a scrawny 5′9″, maybe people won’t even ask how tall I am anymore. Or perhaps I was never 5′10″ and that extra 3/4″ was just the enormous Aqua Netted hair of my youth.

It made me realize that now almost everything on my driver’s license is false except my age (the one thing I wish I could change on there). It lists my parents’ address, my old height and my dream weight. It says my eyes are blue, which they are but there’s a gold ring around the pupils so they look green. And the photo is fabulous, which a lot of people would think is a good thing but it’s not because when I’m out and about and scruffy looking and have to show my ID the person checks out the picture then me and says, “That’s you?” as in, “What the hell happened?” Trust me, bad photo is better.

But if there’s one really great aspect to all of this it’s that now I can wear heels at my wedding to George Clooney!

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