I decided to do a post about being short. Of course it’s just in it’s sketch phase, maybe I’ll move on to the final some day.
To sum it up, being small has it’s advantages and disadvantages. I typically try to look at the positive sides of things, but there are some things that really stick out to me when it comes to downers, and here’s a handful. From left to right, top to bottom:
Automatically I have to forfeit my arm rests because larger people feel entitled to them. If they are really big then sure, I’ll give it to them, but this happens about 90% of the time. If I do manage to wrestle one down, I have this unavoidable guilt inside me.
Never being able to reach the top shelf. I find myself either dangerously scaling shelving or having to wait for a taller customer or worker reach it for me. 
I actually had this happen to me in an airplane where a very large guy sat next to me and put his arm around my head rest for his comfort. He also decided that he deserved my leg room and stretched his legs into my space. It was a 14 hour flight. 
Selfies with people always start with these gems. My boyfriend hasn’t quite mastered the whole “angle it down so you can see your girlfriend too” thing, but he’s getting better.
Biking as a short person sucks because you have shorter limbs and it takes a lot more effort to go the same speed as your long legged friends. Also, rowing.
Backpacks will always make you look like a middle schooler. Everyone will always laugh at how you’re carrying a bag as big as you. Every. Time.
Maxi dresses. 
Trying on sunglasses to find that the only mirror is too high.
Pants. They will always be too long. I don’t understand why men get all the inseam lengths but women are stuck with “Petite” aka “average”, “tall”, and “runway model”.
Concerts. Being on the floor level REALLY SUCKS. Tall people see me and think, “Oh! There’s a spot.” and just mosey on in front of me.
Oh, and to end it on a positive note, the great things about being short:
You are always first pick to be thrown around in random acrobatics! (Cool!)
Low center of gravity in my case makes me more balanced and nimble. Surfing comes pretty easy for these little legs. Also there’s a reason why shorties dominate gymnastics and figure skating. 
Beds are never too short for me. Neither are blankets.
I can easily sleep in the back seat of my car.
I rarely have to duck for low hanging branches.

I decided to do a post about being short. Of course it’s just in it’s sketch phase, maybe I’ll move on to the final some day.

To sum it up, being small has it’s advantages and disadvantages. I typically try to look at the positive sides of things, but there are some things that really stick out to me when it comes to downers, and here’s a handful. From left to right, top to bottom:

  • Automatically I have to forfeit my arm rests because larger people feel entitled to them. If they are really big then sure, I’ll give it to them, but this happens about 90% of the time. If I do manage to wrestle one down, I have this unavoidable guilt inside me.
  • Never being able to reach the top shelf. I find myself either dangerously scaling shelving or having to wait for a taller customer or worker reach it for me. 
  • I actually had this happen to me in an airplane where a very large guy sat next to me and put his arm around my head rest for his comfort. He also decided that he deserved my leg room and stretched his legs into my space. It was a 14 hour flight. 
  • Selfies with people always start with these gems. My boyfriend hasn’t quite mastered the whole “angle it down so you can see your girlfriend too” thing, but he’s getting better.
  • Biking as a short person sucks because you have shorter limbs and it takes a lot more effort to go the same speed as your long legged friends. Also, rowing.
  • Backpacks will always make you look like a middle schooler. Everyone will always laugh at how you’re carrying a bag as big as you. Every. Time.
  • Maxi dresses. 
  • Trying on sunglasses to find that the only mirror is too high.
  • Pants. They will always be too long. I don’t understand why men get all the inseam lengths but women are stuck with “Petite” aka “average”, “tall”, and “runway model”.
  • Concerts. Being on the floor level REALLY SUCKS. Tall people see me and think, “Oh! There’s a spot.” and just mosey on in front of me.

Oh, and to end it on a positive note, the great things about being short:

  • You are always first pick to be thrown around in random acrobatics! (Cool!)
  • Low center of gravity in my case makes me more balanced and nimble. Surfing comes pretty easy for these little legs. Also there’s a reason why shorties dominate gymnastics and figure skating. 
  • Beds are never too short for me. Neither are blankets.
  • I can easily sleep in the back seat of my car.
  • I rarely have to duck for low hanging branches.
I’m a little bit scared for the day that I have to eat at a fancy place with Jon’s parents. I wasn’t ever really taught how to eat properly with a knife and fork, I don’t think. I mean - it’s not my parents’ fault. We just grew up in a tiny town in Michigan where fancy restaurants barely existed.
My lack of fancy food skills becomes strikingly apparent when Jon and I are eating a steak dinner together. I rip apart the steak in a beastly manner, gripping the knife tightly in the one hand and the fork just as tightly in the other. Then for some reason, I think I may have my hands switched wrong, but I end up having to turn my fist completely at a 180 to try to eat the piece on the fork. It is not cute. 
Jon was raised with British parents, complete with the proper accents. They eat their meals nicely, paired with a glass of fine wine. He cuts through his steak so neatly and quietly without any struggle. I’ve always admired that, even though he usually ends the meal with half of it on his shirt or face. (You can’t have it all…)
I guess I’ll just have to order soups and salads when that day comes.

I’m a little bit scared for the day that I have to eat at a fancy place with Jon’s parents. I wasn’t ever really taught how to eat properly with a knife and fork, I don’t think. I mean - it’s not my parents’ fault. We just grew up in a tiny town in Michigan where fancy restaurants barely existed.

My lack of fancy food skills becomes strikingly apparent when Jon and I are eating a steak dinner together. I rip apart the steak in a beastly manner, gripping the knife tightly in the one hand and the fork just as tightly in the other. Then for some reason, I think I may have my hands switched wrong, but I end up having to turn my fist completely at a 180 to try to eat the piece on the fork. It is not cute. 

Jon was raised with British parents, complete with the proper accents. They eat their meals nicely, paired with a glass of fine wine. He cuts through his steak so neatly and quietly without any struggle. I’ve always admired that, even though he usually ends the meal with half of it on his shirt or face. (You can’t have it all…)

I guess I’ll just have to order soups and salads when that day comes.

This painting is for one of the most incredible people I’ve ever…not met? Well, we haven’t met in person. :) She had me do an oil painting for her and was one of the first clients I had out of school. Turns out we have an extraordinary number of things in common and were instantly like best friends. (we both played french horn, had an obsession with dogs, art, and other things. Later we found out we both lived in towns called Glendale, and she ended up finding a dog that could be my dog’s sibling!) We will meet some day my twinnie!
While I couldn’t attend her wedding, I did get to finish this just late of her 1 year anniversary. 

This painting is for one of the most incredible people I’ve ever…not met? Well, we haven’t met in person. :) She had me do an oil painting for her and was one of the first clients I had out of school. Turns out we have an extraordinary number of things in common and were instantly like best friends. (we both played french horn, had an obsession with dogs, art, and other things. Later we found out we both lived in towns called Glendale, and she ended up finding a dog that could be my dog’s sibling!) We will meet some day my twinnie!

While I couldn’t attend her wedding, I did get to finish this just late of her 1 year anniversary. 

Dear Cilantro,

Die in a fire.

It’s safe to say that I am one of those few that have the bitter taste receptors that makes cilantro taste like what I imagine a skunk’s butt tastes like after a fresh poo.

Now, the usual response is a flood of people professing their love for the herb. They just love to rub it in my face about how great it tastes, but honestly…it doesn’t make me angry or happy, because we just don’t taste the same things. What I don’t like is how chefs automatically dice it up and sprinkle it in EVERYTHING without warning. 

To certain people it tastes like different things from Hell. I’ve read that some people taste rotting flesh, most people taste dish soap, and a select group tastes feet. I taste feet. It tastes how my climbing shoes smell (let’s just say they can clear a room), and once I get a tiny sliver of it in my mouth, the entire rest of the meal is ruined because the stank just lives in my mouth and nose for quite some time.

So I am pleading people to just leave the cilantro on the side. I am sure it tastes wonderful to most people, I hear it even has a light citrusy flavor which sounds delicious. However, for the love of god and for the small percentage of us that tastes flavors of death, please just…leave it out. 

I have this pretty crazy adoration for animals. No really, it’s probably an illness. Basically any animal, but especially dogs.
I’ve learned to restrain this intense urge to pet every dog I see, but it’s not easy. Even though I have two furry dogs of my own, I can’t help but want to pet and hug every dog I see for an uncomfortable amount of time. 
Every time I see a dog I veer towards it like it’s some kind of magnetic reaction, and with equal force I try to hold back my excitement. I also have this Dr. Doolittle moment, where I think I can speak their language and connect more than other people do, but I’m not really that special. A girl can dream.
At work we are fortunate enough to bring our dogs in. I don’t bring mine because one is a bit dog aggressive, and the other is blind as a bat and barks when he’s frustrated. I am surrounded by squishy dogs though. There’s this one dog in particular that I walk by every time I go to lunch or to the bathroom, and man…it kills me to not squeeze it and love it.
Anyway, maybe you can relate. Maybe I’m just avoiding real work. 

I have this pretty crazy adoration for animals. No really, it’s probably an illness. Basically any animal, but especially dogs.

I’ve learned to restrain this intense urge to pet every dog I see, but it’s not easy. Even though I have two furry dogs of my own, I can’t help but want to pet and hug every dog I see for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

Every time I see a dog I veer towards it like it’s some kind of magnetic reaction, and with equal force I try to hold back my excitement. I also have this Dr. Doolittle moment, where I think I can speak their language and connect more than other people do, but I’m not really that special. A girl can dream.

At work we are fortunate enough to bring our dogs in. I don’t bring mine because one is a bit dog aggressive, and the other is blind as a bat and barks when he’s frustrated. I am surrounded by squishy dogs though. There’s this one dog in particular that I walk by every time I go to lunch or to the bathroom, and man…it kills me to not squeeze it and love it.

Anyway, maybe you can relate. Maybe I’m just avoiding real work. 

Here’s a fun little portrait I did for a friend of mine that donated to the Summer Scamper. :) My friend’s mom is notorious for being a “tiger mom”, and I’ve had the joy of hearing a couple of the stories that earned her her reputation. 
Anyway, it was a lot of fun! One more down, only a couple left to do. This month is really chaotic for me so things might be a little quiet here until September.

Here’s a fun little portrait I did for a friend of mine that donated to the Summer Scamper. :) My friend’s mom is notorious for being a “tiger mom”, and I’ve had the joy of hearing a couple of the stories that earned her her reputation. 

Anyway, it was a lot of fun! One more down, only a couple left to do. This month is really chaotic for me so things might be a little quiet here until September.

Ok I DEFINITELY have other things that I need to be doing, but I love drawing these crappy comics. So satisfying.

This is how I feel every time anyone likes my realllly old stuff on deviantart. They keep dragging it out and reminding me of the past. This also works for how I feel when people show me drawings they kept that I did for them years ago. IT’S NOT AS FUN FOR ME AS YOU MIGHT THINK.

Ok I DEFINITELY have other things that I need to be doing, but I love drawing these crappy comics. So satisfying.

This is how I feel every time anyone likes my realllly old stuff on deviantart. They keep dragging it out and reminding me of the past. This also works for how I feel when people show me drawings they kept that I did for them years ago. IT’S NOT AS FUN FOR ME AS YOU MIGHT THINK.