Not that I really want to talk about it...

..because I'm intensely private. However: the need to vent prevails. Once again, my heart finds itself a little bent, folded, and stapled. I do not enjoy this, it sucks greatly. There are few words less pleasant to the ear than "I could never love you". So I'm a little blue, and delicate... and confused.

Because... I'm kind of a catch, theoretically. I'm decent-looking, I have a fantastic bottom, I'm smart, I like movies and graphic novels and kung-fu movies and food, and am not particularly high maintenance. Also, I'm told I'm rather good in bed*. I'm independent. I have a quirky fashion sense. I can cook, and bake, and dress wounds. I have nice hair, and high levels of personal hygiene. I am edumacated. So why is it that I have such difficulty in finding men who actually want to date me? I think I've been asked out about five times in my life- I end up dating friends, or doing the asking. Is there agreat big neon sign above my head flashing: "DANGER! DANGER! AVOID!" or something?

I think the problem is that a) I'm not a girly girl. I don't do giggling and pretending to be dim. also b) small boobs. very small boobs. c) my awesome ninja skills are intimidating d) I'm weird.

I'm going to die alone and be eaten by my bunnies.

*by your Mom. Sorry, misdirected repressed anger there.

I'm Only Petite on the Outside.

All my life, I've been the tiniest person in the room. Especially when I was a kid, when I was even smaller than I am now*. Well except maybe in Sub B**, where this guy Tony was about an inch shorter than me and I decided that this meant we were going to be boyfriend and girlfriend. I don't recall actually mentioning this to Tony, because I didn't realise at the time that he had any sort of choice in the matter. He didn't seem to mind... or notice, for that matter.

Bygones.

In any case, I am now a petite adult. Petite in clothing stores seems to be shorthand for Really Short Legs. Generally though most people prefer to go with Midget, teeny tiny short person, and Oh Hey You're Cute. Women tend to refer to me as slim, skinny or delicate. Men, on the whole, tend to use the word miniature a great deal, and attempt to rest things on my head. I get a lot of hair ruffling too***. In japan, slightly-less-tiny 15-year-olds would ruffle my hair while squealing excitedly that I was "kawaaaiiiiii". Then I would shoot them with the Bazooka that I had taken to work that day and had cunningly concealed in my elaborate hair style.

The problem is, how people seem to see me is not how I feel. I feel, generally, lumpy and gangling. Technically there needs to be more of you, and with longer limbs, to be gangling, but I feel like I somehow accomplish this. While I strive for ballerina grace, it feels more like elephantine stompiness.

Possibly, this comes from being somewhat of a tomboy, and also incredibly clumsy. If there's something to fall over, I will fall over it. Sometimes also if there isn't something to fall over. If I lean into a cupboard under the sink to get a pot, I'll whack myself on the back of the head. I'm pretty sure I've incurred brain damage doing this the hundred-odd times I have. Drinking tea or water, I'll miss my mouth completely and pour the liquid down my face, or onto my lap, or a nearby computer, or a baby. I come home with mammoth bruises that I don't remember getting, and large swathes of skin I seem to have misplaced.

Once, a friend referred to me as "graceful and elegant" when describing me to someone else. I was, to say the least, confused. But if I can fool at least one person, then maybe that's enough. The rest I can just take out with my Bazooka.

*Proportionately to the other children dumbass, obviously I wasn't born this size or my mother would have made an even bigger deal about the labour.
**which is now called Grade 2. It used to be 2 sub-standards and ten standards, the last of which was Matric and now it's 12 Grades. I get very confused.
*** because there's nothing a grown woman likes better than being condescended to like a four-year-old.

Fun Factoids.

...In an effort to be more personable, I've decided to share some personal information about myself. This is not something I easily do, because I tend to be quite private*. So basically I'm gritting my teeth, buckling down and ignoring my inner censor.

so you'd better freakin' appreciate it.

1) I wore braces for three-and-a-half years. I had teeth pulled, my gums hacked at, and my inner cheeks shredded. This was not a fun way to start high school. Especially not my high school. But at least I got to perfect the misunderstood loner geek persona I coveted.
2) When I was 18 I wanted to be Shirley Manson. I had the red hair, the smudgy kohl, the stompy boots, and the attitude. I stopped short of the Scottish brogue.
3) I'm conflicted between bands I love being well-known: when nobody knows them I try to spread the word and make others love them as much as do, but if they hit the top 40 it takes the sheen off them for me.I guess I'm an exclusivity snob.
4) I have difficulty pronouncing the words shoulder, and soldier, especially when I'm tired. I also have a slight stammer and am slightly sensitive about it. Like really sensitive. Like please don't mock me about it or I'll blush....
5) Mind you, I blush all the time, sometimes inappropriately. Although I'm better than when I was a teenager: then I would blush if I got called on in class, if I thought someone might talk to me, If I thought I might have to talk to someone, if I thought someone might be about to look in my general direction. Also, I blush if I think I might blush. Which is, I guess, Metaphysical blushing.
6) I used to be shy***. How shy? Well, I think some people who knew me then thought I had some form of Autism.
7) I empathise too strongly with humiliation. Take me to a movie about murder, the horrors of war, eyes being gouged out or hearts being broken, and I'm cool. Someone makes an ass of themselves? I can't watch. I hide behind the shoulder of the person in the next seat, which is kind of weird when it's a stranger. American Pie made me need Valium.
8) My favourite colour is pink. I'm a girly girl. But also a tomboy. I used to climb trees in my ballet clothes**. All the things I'm supposed to like (froufrou weddings, women's magazines, chick flicks) creep me out a little. However, shoes, fashion, celebrity gossip and chocolate render me unto bliss. Go figure.

Now, none of this may be interesting to you at all, faithful reader, but it's as much as I'm willing to share for now... although I will take questions.

*or as my family calls it "secretive"
** uh, yeah, mom, that would be where all those ladders came from. I guess I did know how they got there.
*** and now I don't stop talking; yes, yes, I realise the irony.