give her an inch, she'll take an inch
do you ever have that feeling that something is missing? something crucial to what makes you who you are, but for the life of you, you can't put your finger on it? like maybe you started out as a twin, but you ate your sister in the womb? or maybe you were born with and extra digit or two and they fell off when you were too little to remember? i can't be the only person that feels like that. or rather, that felt like that.
i really like being up high. not in an acrophilic way or anything, mind you. i'm not scared of heights, but i don't rush to climb every tree in sight. ok, maybe i used to when i was little. maybe i've just found less tomboyish ways to get high in my old age: i love riding around in trucks and getting to see over fences and over other cars, rather than feel the other drivers looking down on me; i love wearing tall shoes - even just an inch makes a difference!
it's not that weird, is it? i didn't really think anything of it. then my world came crashing down around me. it all started with a car accident. collision is a better word, actually. there's nothing accidental about being hit and run by a drunken frat boy in isla vista on a saturday evening. the totalled car was easy to forget about, but the nagging back pain wasn't. of course i tried going to a doctor first, but as luck would have it, the first one available for an appointment was super young and had fallen in with some new age cult in medical school, apparently:
doogie: [upon entering the room] your back hurts because your posture is bad.
me: umm, i think my back hurts from the car crash i was in the other day. it didn't hurt before that.
doogie: oh yes. let's see. that is why your back hurts. let me write something down for you.
me: is this a prescription? shouldn't you look at my back first?
doogie: this is not a prescription. this is the name of my yoga swami.
me: yoga, ok. umm, i don't think my insurance will cover that.
doogie: well that's really all i can recommend for you.
me: can't you show me some stretches at least?
doogie: no. you'll just have to contact my swami if you'd like to get past your back pain.
so i just grinned and bore it for a while. ok, i whined and didn't really bear it. but then a friend from work recommended her chiropractor to me and not only was he super hot, he helped my back!
so one day dr. i-can't-even-remember-his-cute-name-now was wrenching (i mean adjusting) my back and said "ok, on to your twelfth thoracic [or maybe it was a different one...it's the one connected - usually connected - to the bottom ribs]...oh wait, that's the one you're missing..."
well i hopped up off that table as quick as a gymnast with a normal back and demanded an explanation. dr. i-c-e-r-h-c-n-n said sometimes people are born missing vertebra. "is that normal?" i asked. "ha ha ha," he chortled. "it's not normal...but it happens."
so maybe it's an evolutionary boon. i mean, cher and tori spelling have had ribs removed, but i'm already there, man! i really think i'd rather have the extra inch, though. i'm supposed to have that extra inch! ever since 1990 i thought i was the same height as alex-with-the-rat. i found out two years ago she's actually an inch taller than me. how do you explain that? ok...then i found out last weekend that she's actually always been two inches taller than me. that really fucking sucked and maybe can't be explained by my missing an inch theory, but it's still related.
but i do what i can. i buy tallish shoes (i even found some inch-tall slippers a month ago!). i stand on ledges when possible. i play "attack of the fifty-foot woman with my chihuahuas. it's not enough, but it helps.