conversation

NOTE: I am tall. I get it from my Dad's side of the family. I'd bet money that their gene-pool single-handedly created the market demand for pants with a 36" inseam. I am aware of my height and yet people seem to enjoy pointing it out to me. Like maybe I have forgotten to glance in a mirror. Ever.

Last night I was wearing boots with a heel. Normally, I don't wear heels because I'm kind of lazy and tend to prefer shoes that don't make me want to inflict pain on innocent bystanders. But these boots, the ones I was wearing, are jawsome (jaw-dropping awesome). So, they get worn, even in spite of their 2" heel. Problems arise when wearing boots like that to an event where everyone else happens to be eye level with your navel. It's awkward. Anyway, the height thing is the only explanation I have for the conversation below:

L: How tall are you?
S: 5'10"
L: My mom decided that you should be a model.
S: Oh! Hahah!! Well, I like eating so that might be a problem.
L: No, I think she meant a model for curvy girls.
S: Oh.... Umm...Thanks??

I spent the rest of the night walking around in socks and eyeballing the desert table. Incidentally, tonight I have big plans to do a kick boxing video and then eat a dinner comprised of celery sticks (negative calories!).

I'm kidding. Sort of.

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EDIT: Before anyone overreacts, yes, I do realize that in the world of modeling anyone outside of the scope of a size 2 body is right or wrong (hint: wrong) considered "plus sized". I also realize that in the real world, I am neither plus nor minus sized. I'm average I suppose. Still. The sting, it burns.