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Wrote a bit more on my novel. Not sure I like this chapter, but figure it is only the first draft. Get it out. Don't like it? Can always kill it later. (Just hard to kill later is all, one becomes oddly attached to things once they are written. This does not mean I can't kill it, just that it is hard.)
Over the phone last night, I related my experience with my neice to her grandmother (my mother).
SK: I've never in my life seen a child so in love with books. She literally was petting the pages of the book I gave her. Lovingly -
Momster: I have. You. That's how you were -
SK: But you don't understand, she was turning each page. Only three. She asked me to read the words = what did they say? And she'd loving stroke each page as if it contained buried treasure.
Momster: SK, you were like that as a child. You carried your books everywhere with you, you slept with them, you hugged them. That was you.
Oh, I love this little girl. This child of my heart. Who is not me. But who I see shades of myself in. I'm not overly demonstrative about love, I don't gush. I'm quiet like. If I give someone something, it's not often, and it is usually something I spent a lot of time thinking about, worrying over, and selecting. If I hug someone? I work myself up to it. I'm not one of those people who just does it. Part of this is because of my size and the fact that people shy away from me because of my size. The two go hand and hand. I've discovered something odd in life, nine times out of ten, short, small people tend to be huggers - they'll hug anyone, with little provocation. Total strangers. Kiss. Hug. Not think twice. But bigger people, tall people, tend to be shyer, standoffish, and don't just hug folks. Partly because we intimidate them and they run from us. And partly because of fear of rejection. And partly because it is really painful to bend in half to hug someone shorter than you. Or squat. Short folks don't get this. And since there are more short folks than tall folks (Trust me on this - I ride the subway in NYC and on most occassions, can see over everyone's heads - average size is 5'4 for women and 5'11 for men. I'm 6 foot give or take an inch. All my friends without exception are at least three to four inches shorter than me. And honestly, 5'8? Hate tell you this, is NOT tall. It's four inches shorter than me. From my perspective it is short, but from the majority's perspective? It is tall. The people at work have asked me six to eight times how tall I am and assume 6'ft at the very least. The tallest woman in the company outside of me is 5'9.) Anywho, getting down on the ground or squatting on the ground when you are 6 foot and most of that height is in your limbs, specifically your legs - my legs are 4 and 1/2 feet of my height - is not as easy as it looks. A lot of short people come to my waist or shoulders, it's really sort of funny. My neice comes up to my calf or knee, and she's tall for her age - really tall for her age. When I get on the floor beside her, I overwhelm her by my sheer size. So a great deal of it is a size thing.
I don't think you can understand another person until you are literally inside their body and walking in their shoes for a few days. That may be why body switch fantasies are so interesting to writers. Our bodies make up a great deal of who we are. And everyone's body fits them differently. We all have different issues with it. They aren't comparable really.
Just because you're body fits you perfectly, does not mean someone else's fits them. I think that's hard for people to wrap their minds around. Just like a lot of people think *yoga* is the cure-all for everyone. Not all bodies can do *yoga*. I can't. I've tried. It hurts me.
Throws out my back and results in pain. My body just wasn't designed for it. I have a body that was designed to run, swim and climb. Not bend in multiple directions. It's too big.
Couldn't do gymnastics either. But I can out-walk most people. I'm fast on my feet. Yet clumsy when the steps are small or precise.
My pal Wales is tiny. Pocketsize. Has no trouble getting guys. Fits in just about any space.
She can curl up in a movie theater seat, while I have my legs out in the aisle or cramped every which way. But she can't see over the heads of people in crowds or get through them as quickly as I can.
People say size doesn't matter in a relationship. But it does. Wales and I are constantly making compromises when we get together. She'll want to go to the middle of a row or at the very front of the theater, while it's more comfortable for me to sit further back and on the aisle. That's just one example. And when we hug goodbye, I have to bend in half to get down to her level.
Don't misunderstand me, I'm not complaining or don't mean to be. I like being tall. Can't imagine anything else. Wouldn't be me if I wasn't tall. My height is part and parcel of who I am, my personality. That's what a lot of people don't seem to understand - our bodies are part of our personality. We would be someone else outside of them. They influence our decisions, how we think, feel, reacte. I blush easily for example - you can tell just by looking at my cheeks if I'm embarrassed, angry, or what have you. (Either that or I ate the wrong thing.) If I weren't six foot, with slightly sloped shoulders, green hazel eyes (they appear green to me and oddly blue to other people - its the weirdest thing), big feet, and long limbs...I would not be me. I'd have different interests, I'd reacte differently.
And none of those things are things I chose. I choose how to reacte them, but part of that is dictated by how I interpreted the reactions to those things at an early age. So much of who we are is outside of our control, come to think of it. Yet, that doesn't mean we don't have free will or choices. It's not an either or scenario...
Oh hell. I'm going to bed. It's late and I've no clue where I'm going with this. Would you believe me if I said it wasn't planned and just sort of popped out in the midst of typing?
It did. Believe it or not...okay, now I have that damn 1980's tv show theme song in my head. Ugh.
Sleep. Goodnight. Tomorrow bekons.
Over the phone last night, I related my experience with my neice to her grandmother (my mother).
SK: I've never in my life seen a child so in love with books. She literally was petting the pages of the book I gave her. Lovingly -
Momster: I have. You. That's how you were -
SK: But you don't understand, she was turning each page. Only three. She asked me to read the words = what did they say? And she'd loving stroke each page as if it contained buried treasure.
Momster: SK, you were like that as a child. You carried your books everywhere with you, you slept with them, you hugged them. That was you.
Oh, I love this little girl. This child of my heart. Who is not me. But who I see shades of myself in. I'm not overly demonstrative about love, I don't gush. I'm quiet like. If I give someone something, it's not often, and it is usually something I spent a lot of time thinking about, worrying over, and selecting. If I hug someone? I work myself up to it. I'm not one of those people who just does it. Part of this is because of my size and the fact that people shy away from me because of my size. The two go hand and hand. I've discovered something odd in life, nine times out of ten, short, small people tend to be huggers - they'll hug anyone, with little provocation. Total strangers. Kiss. Hug. Not think twice. But bigger people, tall people, tend to be shyer, standoffish, and don't just hug folks. Partly because we intimidate them and they run from us. And partly because of fear of rejection. And partly because it is really painful to bend in half to hug someone shorter than you. Or squat. Short folks don't get this. And since there are more short folks than tall folks (Trust me on this - I ride the subway in NYC and on most occassions, can see over everyone's heads - average size is 5'4 for women and 5'11 for men. I'm 6 foot give or take an inch. All my friends without exception are at least three to four inches shorter than me. And honestly, 5'8? Hate tell you this, is NOT tall. It's four inches shorter than me. From my perspective it is short, but from the majority's perspective? It is tall. The people at work have asked me six to eight times how tall I am and assume 6'ft at the very least. The tallest woman in the company outside of me is 5'9.) Anywho, getting down on the ground or squatting on the ground when you are 6 foot and most of that height is in your limbs, specifically your legs - my legs are 4 and 1/2 feet of my height - is not as easy as it looks. A lot of short people come to my waist or shoulders, it's really sort of funny. My neice comes up to my calf or knee, and she's tall for her age - really tall for her age. When I get on the floor beside her, I overwhelm her by my sheer size. So a great deal of it is a size thing.
I don't think you can understand another person until you are literally inside their body and walking in their shoes for a few days. That may be why body switch fantasies are so interesting to writers. Our bodies make up a great deal of who we are. And everyone's body fits them differently. We all have different issues with it. They aren't comparable really.
Just because you're body fits you perfectly, does not mean someone else's fits them. I think that's hard for people to wrap their minds around. Just like a lot of people think *yoga* is the cure-all for everyone. Not all bodies can do *yoga*. I can't. I've tried. It hurts me.
Throws out my back and results in pain. My body just wasn't designed for it. I have a body that was designed to run, swim and climb. Not bend in multiple directions. It's too big.
Couldn't do gymnastics either. But I can out-walk most people. I'm fast on my feet. Yet clumsy when the steps are small or precise.
My pal Wales is tiny. Pocketsize. Has no trouble getting guys. Fits in just about any space.
She can curl up in a movie theater seat, while I have my legs out in the aisle or cramped every which way. But she can't see over the heads of people in crowds or get through them as quickly as I can.
People say size doesn't matter in a relationship. But it does. Wales and I are constantly making compromises when we get together. She'll want to go to the middle of a row or at the very front of the theater, while it's more comfortable for me to sit further back and on the aisle. That's just one example. And when we hug goodbye, I have to bend in half to get down to her level.
Don't misunderstand me, I'm not complaining or don't mean to be. I like being tall. Can't imagine anything else. Wouldn't be me if I wasn't tall. My height is part and parcel of who I am, my personality. That's what a lot of people don't seem to understand - our bodies are part of our personality. We would be someone else outside of them. They influence our decisions, how we think, feel, reacte. I blush easily for example - you can tell just by looking at my cheeks if I'm embarrassed, angry, or what have you. (Either that or I ate the wrong thing.) If I weren't six foot, with slightly sloped shoulders, green hazel eyes (they appear green to me and oddly blue to other people - its the weirdest thing), big feet, and long limbs...I would not be me. I'd have different interests, I'd reacte differently.
And none of those things are things I chose. I choose how to reacte them, but part of that is dictated by how I interpreted the reactions to those things at an early age. So much of who we are is outside of our control, come to think of it. Yet, that doesn't mean we don't have free will or choices. It's not an either or scenario...
Oh hell. I'm going to bed. It's late and I've no clue where I'm going with this. Would you believe me if I said it wasn't planned and just sort of popped out in the midst of typing?
It did. Believe it or not...okay, now I have that damn 1980's tv show theme song in my head. Ugh.
Sleep. Goodnight. Tomorrow bekons.
