Four Celebrity Couples that Got Me Over My Insecurity of Relationship Height Difference

Sounds stupid - but if you ever asked me about the thing I found most attractive about a man - it was his height.

Height always meant manliness. And feet hanging off the bed - a little bit of awkwardness and of course - tall babies.

Tall men also equaled small Sami. I'm still not sure when/where that notion got inserted into my brain, but somewhere along the lines, my psyche was convinced that tall men make women feel petite - and even if you're carrying a little extra junk in your trunk, a man's height somehow cancels that out.

Well - wouldn't you know it - life dealt me a hilarious card when it delivered an excellent match in someone just a sliver taller than myself. Turns out, great things do come in small packages.

So I've spent the entire last year google searching "How tall is ________ (insert celebrity name here)?" Why? Because I'm ridiculous.  As it would turn out, there are a lot of really tiny, good looking people running around in hollywood, making excellent livings and totally stealing the hearts of women everywhere.

And so very slowly, but surely - I've been getting over my bizarre, completely irrational height insecurity. I realize I sound complete shallow, but hey - it is what it is, and we're all human. I know it's all about the substance, and relationship and it all of that outside stuff doesn't matter - but it matters. :)

So, my very shallow self presents a very short list of celebrity couples that somehow eased my insecurity about height and helped get me to where I am now - happy.

1. Bing Crosby (5'7") and Rosemary Clooney (5'6")

No, they didn't date in real life, and yes, Bing Crosby was definitely rumored to be not such-a-nice-guy, but you know what cancels all of that out? White Christmas - the best Christmas movie ever made. You can't argue with that. It's a Hollywood Film fact.

2. Ryan Adams (5'8") and Mandy Moore (5'9")

This one is a little bit of a stretch because Mandy Moore is super-model gorgeous, and so I feel that  cancels out the whole height issue (plus the entire model marrying rockstar has just always made sense) - but I had to include it, because of Ryan's long dark hair, soulful lyrical abilities and genuine sweetness/affection between the two. Plus, the age difference is just about the same - and seriously - they look adorable together. I don't know them personally, but I get some weird, nerd-girl impression that there are similarities.

3. Meg Ryan (5'8") and Billy Crystal (5'7")

When Harry Met Sally has always been my all-time favorite movie. Best Friends fall in love. That's how it works - That's how it happened for me. They're not the all-stunning die-for couple, but everything they represent is right on point. I was just reminded of this one today and it had to go on the list. Mark this as a giant slap-in-the-face! How did I miss this?

4. Tina Fey (5'5") and Jeff Richmond (5'5")
Hello, Idol. Tina Fey is quite possibly the coolest female on the face of the planet. I would so so love the opportunity to work/shadow/intern for her in this lifetime.  To boot, she wears heels around her same-height hubby all the time, and look how happy? Yep... time to ditch the insecurity!

if wishes were fishes...

I wouldn't wish away all the obnoxious self esteem and body issues I have now, as an adult.

I would wish for a better dad that wouldn't have always made me feel never good/pretty/smart/etc. enough in my formative years so that no matter what the hell I looked like now, I'd be damn comfortable in my own skin.

All of the petty worrying about my weight, and constantly carrying around a steady poundage despite the very healthy lifestyle is irritating beyond belief. Guess who else cares about this but me? No one. So why do I even bother? Why not eat copious amounts of cookies and hot wings?

And why, no matter how many times I try, do I always just plateau at the same spot? Always. I feel like I'm carrying around a small child's worth of extra fat that no longer serves my body or life, and yet I can't put the damn child down.

How the hell do I put it down without:
1.constantly obsessing over every morsel of food that goes into my mouth and/or every calorie I expell from any aerobic action.
2. being heroicly detoured any time my body chooses to hold on to the slightest bit of salt/water (seriously...I have been known to gain 6lbs in one day... and not during 'that time of the month.'
3. losing a fun life; I.e. focusing on what I want to loose rather than what I'd like to gain.

I mean - it's simple, really. Eat less, move more (I already do this). Eat non-processed, healthy food (check). Get some Good sleep (well...... ok. It is 2:30am). Manage stress (hi, yoga 4-5x/week).

My boyfriend studied exercise science in school - which is funny because I try to drill him for helpful information and all I ever get is, "you're healthy. You look great. Youre doing everything right!" And, oh yeah, "so many things are predetermined by genes."

I fed him the entire contents of my fridge once, and he said, "well, its just not really in my make-up to be fat."

Oooh....how nice for you! So I just have to accept that this is my body and I can't make it smaller, ever? Really? Because while no, I am not a monstrous beast, yet an average woman, I just refuse to believe that I won't get to be 'better,' even if I really want to be.

I'm stumped as to why, like the millions of other things I figure out and master on a daily basis, I can't seem to conquer my own body.

Hell, if men have had the opportunity, I should, too.

Closure / Ego

One lesson in life that's hard to learn is that closure doesn't really exist.

It's just this magical word that people use when they would rather leave that last hook buried into the most hidden (and painful) part of the tie you've made with an individual. "OH... once I just get closure, I'll feel better and let this all go."

Ok, ego. Nice try.

Let's break this down:

After several failed attempts to seek finalization from a person (because after all you've been through with someone, you swear they owe you at least that), you spend days, weeks, months, maybe even years playing things over in your head, trying to understand what you could have done differently to change this outcome and feel better than you do in this terrible moment. - even after all the time has passed.  

You either store everything inside because you hold a person so dear to your heart you wouldn't dare sully their name to even your closest friend or you spend an ungodly amount of time analyzing and reanalyzing the situation with those around you - looking for some kind of answer to your dilema - some pivotal, life-changing words that should fall out of thin air and renew your faith in human beings.

But often times, you know what happens after all of this? Nothing. nothing.

NOTHING.

There are no answers. There are no grand enlightenments. The person you had devoted all of this love and time to gives you nothing - i think for three main reasons (though i've never gotten to ask, so forgive me for assuming):

1. In bad cases, the person is unaware that they even made the slightest human error (it's human, thus forgivable, but how do you go about speaking about this when the person has no idea?).

2. To some, ignorance is bliss. Eventually, problems will just go away on their own. 

3. I really think, deep deep deep in my heart, that there are just some people that are crystal-clear on a bad situation, know things have slipped past the point of repair and just like me/you dealing with this internal struggle, rely on stubbornness and stick steadfast to the hope that I/you will be the one to come back around and put a big band-aid on everything. Why? Because I/you always stepped up in the past, so why not now? Well - there comes a point where you just decide it's more painful to keep reaching out, only to be rejected/ignored than to just stop trying all together.

Eventually, you drop your ego and accept that the only option is to let go, move on, and slowly you rebuild your life with new experiences, friends, etc.  Occasionally there is a twinge of anger/hurt that arises that you didn't know that was left - you choke on your pride and the uncomfortableness of the feeling and hope that this time, it only takes a fraction of the time as the first round.

I had something flare-up today, and so I guess that's why I'm up at 3:17 a.m. writing about this all.  I haven't written in a long time.  I am struggling - and surprisingly, not with a guy this time! ha. 

I can't think of how to package all of the frustrations/hurt into a nice little package, so I won't try because it would just be useless, ugly garbage that isn't productive to anyone (and wouldn't you know, I still love this person to hell and back). 

Maybe it's as simple as you just cycle out of someones life because you've learned all you can from each other - but I have to say I really thought this one was for life.  I thought by now, things would be okay. They're not. I have been guilty of buying back into closure and thinking there was still a shred of hope that there would be some kind of gesture (grand or small) that would just smooth everything over - but I think I just realized there's nothing coming.  How's that for dropping the ego and naivety? Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh. 

As Lebowski says... "That's... that's a bummer, man."

Forgive me while I mourn this on a grand scale. 

The 'almosts.'

I'm relatively green on the dating front. For doing most things so naturally and going with the flow the majority of the time, I make anything and everything involving feelings, men and physical contact completely awkward. And impossible.

I'm not sure if it's my approach, or the whole 'you reap what you sew,' kind of karma thing -- but I kind of always figured I'd rather not over think why and just trust that one day, out of the 7,000,000+ people on the earth, there will be at least one man who not only understands it and knows how to work with it, but finds it just the slightest bit endearing.

Until I find that man, I have some really great moments to hold near-and-dear to my chest. These thoughts don't pop up often, but on the rare occasion they do, I'm flooded with fondness and hope.

This particular moment came to mind while I was lying in shivassinah this evening at yoga, listening to  Nude by Radiohead. It made me think of this guy that used to be in one of the rehearsal spaces I managed at my first job. He was the singer of the band in studio #11 that almost never paid their rent on time. Instead - I often received rent envelopes with a portion of the cash due and note like this:

And I would giggle, and give them a break because they were charming and musicians and... boys. Although I was young at 22, they were younger at 16-20. They'd invite me into their space to hear them rehearse, play their guitars, sing, talk about everything and nothing - and they made me feel included.

Now hanging with the boys is common for me. And I like that, because good girlfriends are really hard to find (though, I've found the best ones) - and guys are just... easier. But it's because of this mentality that I've always singled myself out as the 'non-datable' girl in any group - because being 'one-of-the-guys' automatically makes you feel not-desired at all.

I've always felt like I was  branded as the one who men never choose - even though It's my own fault that happened - and you can bet I'll still bitch about it five minutes after I feel the slightest bit rejected. You can literally see me move from apathy to desperation in 60 seconds flat. I'm absolutely positive this is why I don't date, because after so many years of this conditioning, I will always automatically put myself in this position out of comfort. And it's because of this that I am always surprised when a man shows any interest in me outside of the role of a friend.

And this guy did - out of the blue, on Christmas Day a few years after we met.

"I love you."
"... what?"
"I love you."
"...just like that? Where did this come from?"
"I've always loved you."
"O.k...... Uh... Merry Christmas."

I honestly didn't know what to do with that. So I didn't do anything - because it didn't make sense to me. But  I did what came naturally: kept it friendly - and so we stayed friends.

In 2010, I went on a pub crawl for Halloween and by night's end at 2:30am, I decided out of anyone I could call - I would call him:

"I'm hungry. Let's go get breakfast."
"I'm not leaving the house, but I will make you breakfast."
"Awesome."

And I arrived at his house not 10 minutes later. I hadn't seen him in months and months, but I recognized him instantly, as he waited outside on his porch for me - not with toast, or cereal, or oatmeal, but a full CHEESE Plate (we're talking a variety of cheese), with grapes, and berries and a freshly toasted bagel with cream cheese, coffee and orange juice. And I smirked because it's too funny and wonderful all at once, and I'd never had expected that in a million years.

And it doesn't matter how this story ends (I'm sure not how you think), because that's not the point. This is a good moment. This is why movies are made. This is why stories by Nicholas Sparks exist. Because they are real. And I have a few handfuls of moments like this (some that I will never share with anyone because they mean that much).  But this is why you laugh and revel in the stories of 'almost' like this. Because I'm convinced that things like this mean more than bragging about holding down x amount of long-term relationships in your 20s, 30s, however old. I am alone a lot, but I have been lucky enough to experience these things.  And I just wanted to remind myself - and you - that's it's okay...

it's okay.

(side note: can i get a hell yeah for finally focusing on the positive? it's been so LONG!)

No hullabalu - it's true.

Where do I start? Because this is all going to make me sound like sad son-of-a-bitch - which is... 63% true. So here we go... 

I've been thinking a lot lately how applicable pop culture is to one's life when you turn 30. People always tell you things change, and cringe when you mention you've moved into the next decade - and I thought it was all hullaballu, but only two months in,  I'm starting to think there's something to it.  

I don't think I really understood this until now: So many movies have been delivered to us about some miserable sad sack that is only partially good-looking, stuck in an alright job, living a mediocre life, going home to an empty apartment at night, going to bed alone, and waking up to do it all over again. Over and over again. There may be someone he used to love that has long disappeared, but who he thinks about every day.  There may be some past tragedy that has prevented him from living the life he always truly sought as a child. Whatever it is - now he lives for the weekend, he dreads Monday - he has lost all motivation to be the best version of himself because -- what's the point?

And then what always happens? Some amazing happenstance steps in and his life magically gets better. He somehow manages to say a not-so-fond farewell to his prick boss, find or reconnect with love and somehow end up looking really freaking cool. and happy - until the sequel (sidenote: i'm also thinking there are about 17 sequels in each of our lives).

This of course is the obvious, up-front version. In the not-so-obvious one, most of us look pretty happy most of the time (because we are trying so hard to be), attempting to date and find love (because it's what is expected and reiterated as a basic human need and desire), focus on things that are important (family, happiness, pride in one's self, confidence, followthrough, growth, reputation), work hard (even when we're having panic attacks and frozen in fear of not knowing what the heck we're doing - even though we don't know what we really should be doing) and seem to have it together (i.e. have found something in their life to control to appear organized, like exercise, food, color-coded closets, etc.). In reality? We don't. None of us do. And despite this, we all maintain that there is something greater out there for all of us.

And now with the aforementioned plot line, here comes the 63%: I haven't been this damn depressed and lonely for this long of a time well... ever. I feel like I am stuck in a torturous romantic comedy, but instead of two hours, it's 10 years and the protagonist, yours truly, wants OUT of the god damn movie. 

What really gets me, and just like all of those movies confirm, feeling like this seems to be 'the norm' for those of us with half-a-brain and even the tiniest grasp on the world. Then you talk to your friends, and they say they feel the same. You have a beer, laugh about your misery and conclude, "Well, it could be worse."

And yes, I suppose it could. But why should that ever be the silver lining? How is it that that is the thing that gets us to the next day?  I can't ever remember thinking, 'thank you for that quality burst of confidence! Pour another gallon of water in the pool of depression that I have barely been treading through over the last four months. I magically have WATER WINGS!' 

This breaks my heart. I want to believe in something again. I want to know that my amazing happenstance is finally going to step in and light my life on fire again. I'm genuinely convinced that it won't be anything that I go out and find, because I have been whoring myself out over any possible thing that could introduce itself as my glowing solution. But I continually come up empty. I used to think the retort to, 'i'm trying!' was 'try harder.' But, not anymore.  Whatever the hell this happenstance, it's going to have to fall into my lap; trip me; hit me on the head - something. It needs to grow a big pair of balls and make a damn appearance, already.

I surrender and I summon you to me. Game on - whatever/whoever you are - Get on it. 

There's something to it.

I'm posting this with the album cover, because I don't think I could handle watching Mayer's douchy live performance right now. Say what we will, but i really do respect his talent. The fact that he played the music game right, has shown he has true talent really does mean he can bang as many chicks and be as big of a douche that he wants. Why? Because he always delivers on-the-job like we all expect him to. (Suck on that, haters). Johnny always gets the lyrics right. Always. Maybe it's just because he's of my generation, but he somehow effortlessly manages to nail the moments I get stuck in with phenomenal, perfect lyrics as if to say "Here's a catchy song that will make you feel like someone else understands exactly how you feel" when you think that no one ever could.  I know he said in an interview once that it's easy to get it right when you can write and rewrite a million times, but i'm sorry - that is a gift to just cut to the punch like that. i know a lot of musicians and it's a rare few that can get it down pat.

Maybe it's 30. Maybe it's the fantasticalness (sarcasm) of this year so far. Maybe it's something else entirely, or maybe I'm just being moody today - but I feel like there is a GIANT gaping hole in my life, routine, what-have-you and i have no effing idea how to fill it.  I'm stuffing in all of these great things to make life great - friends check - money check - well slept check -  gaining/keeping perspective  - trying new things  - chugging along at a happy pace - etc. etc. etc. still - never enough.  never the right thing.

I need some of the right thing.

what do you do? maybe not be 30? i just don't know anymore.
apparently just keep writing blogs about how consistently lost i feel. that must be fun for everyone. :)

one day...

my heart's going to open up.
i'm  going to drop the guard and jump on in.
but i'm starting to wonder when that one day will be...
you'd think, just like everything else
it'd be when i decided.
but i keep choosing to let it be now.
and something inside me just keeps saying, 'no.' 'no. you can KEEP WAITING.
you just keep being alone.
keep being invisible.
keep just... being.'

this is really bothering me today.

i have to say i'm pretty happy about the lack of rushing to the phone
or staring it into flashing a green 'text' light.
or ringing.
why?
because i'm not waiting for anyone to call.
not expecting a thing.
such a load off.

but...
i wouldn't so much mind something to be excited about besides all of the things i create on my own.
yes, ok. we've established this. i am very good at creating all the things.

but could the universe, or budah, or whoever the hell is in charge of human resources
find me someone new to be excited about already?
so i can get off the stupid mind/heart-warp that is wrapped around
this handsome, tall boy that i still annoyingly have feelings for that i really don't want anymore.

i've made the brain connection. i'm not sure why the rest of me can't catch up already.
i won the argument.
how are my heart/gut all of a sudden winning again?
it's just g.d. annoying.
knock it off.
quit dicking around and send in a new leading man, already.

and make sure i don't blow it. that's important.
yeah. do that.
now.

Attitude Adjustment

I have just been in the bowels of awful. Hey, you add high work stress + physical pain + emotional pain + little-to-no sleep and you get a girl that is on edge 93% of the time.

Generally, I can manage all of this with the long walks and yoga; epsom salt baths and the occasional beer. But I swear for the last six weeks or so (they have felt more like six months), I just haven't been able to find the one ray of hope in the giant pile of crap that has been eluding my life.

Then, two Tuesdays ago, that gasket that's been waiting to explode finally blew. It's a natural wonder, the gasket of a woman (yeah, i heard it). Word vomit comes spewing forth through the short breaths of a panic attack. They eyes redden and swell from an overflow of tears. All your brain can conclude is, "Life is horrible. It has continued to be horrible. It is not going to get better. I've tried to put a positive spin on every last angle of every horrible situation -  and things keep going in the shitter. I HAVE NO ANSWERS! I HAVE NO FAITH!"

I finally got some sleep and thus, became a slightly saner human-being. And you know what? I didn't feel ridiculous or dramatic about how I have felt. All of this was warranted. It has been a rough fucking time lately.  And it almost seems more rough when you are constantly working your hardest not to let your strife leak out and convolute the moods of everyone around you. In the process of doing so,  you find out that it is true that you can develop new habits every 40 days (ahh, the explanation of lent). Your new habit has become not a routine, but more of an internalized persona - Negative Nancy.


She's an imaginary friend that no one ever really sees. Instead - she sets up shop in my mind and makes sure to point out anything that can push me closer to the edge. She has had me seeing the bad in everything. Negative this, negative that. The smallest things grate on my every nerve - the world starts to feel like it is set out specifically to ruin my day/week/month and all of the people in it are purposely trying to annoy me. Not so much, "I'l stop and cry and feel like a victim," but more, "I am now on autopilot, minutes from getting sick and just waiting for the next horrible thing to come my way. Chew your gum in my ear. Breath with your mouth open. Hold your pen the wrong way!!!!!! I DARE YOU!"

(side note: that whole 'misery loves company' is a total farce. misery loves hermitville. you know why? because no one is there to annoy you.)


Negative Nancy says: "If my parade is cloudy, then I will RAIN ON EVERYONE ELSE'S! Bahahahahahahaa."

And I know this. I know she's here. And I am on the attack and working on getting her the hell out of my area.  I also don't want to be dis-genuine and bitter, and smiling through my teeth just to try and keep up some facade when I'm mad at the world. So, the next 40 days is going to be dedicated to kicking Nancy to the curb and bringing back Grace. This is no easy feat. I'm on day 3. I think I can do this... well, I'm 49% sure. But all I need is 51%. I've been told as long as you have more than majority, you're winning. Come onnnnnnnnn, Grace.

No smell, no love?

I'm at this bizarre crossroads. I really thought I was ready to date again, but after only three weeks of signing up for an online dating site (I PAID for it, and thus feel like I need to participate), I'm mostly just pissed that I have this extra thing to manage that I now, don't really care about.

I'm questioning everything about the whole human quest to find love, saddle up and call it good. I'm sure this is something everyone going on 30 thinks about, but I've thought about it so much that I just don't even consider 'finding love' as a concern or goal I'm striving toward anymore. I've leaned more toward going with my gut, and when it's right it's right, if it's not... don't dwell. And I can get away with that now at 29... 30. But what happens if i'm 45 and still saying that? Still alone? I just... wouldn't be surprised anymore.

Why? Well, let's do a list (cause this girl likes lists):

1. I've always heard that 95% of attraction is based on pharamones/smell. And If I have no sense of smell - then do I ever really stand a chance?

2. Despite my sucky sniffer, I'm still convinced I've already found it. Nay - my heart AND GUT are convinced (my brain is still trying to talk them out of it for my well-being). What I recently realized is that it doesn't really matter how I feel if the other person isn't / or is never going to get there. Granted, there's more than one 'one' out there for all of us (or so 'they' say) - but after a decade of looking - I'm not really hopeful.

3. Given #1 and #2, I can't honestly see settling down with someone for 40+ years and not getting mondo-annoyed with them. It seems like this quest for love is just something for all of us to talk and cry and dance around about, just so that we can end up in a relationship / marriage / partnership where we are frustrated and feeling like we have to work too hard at maintaining a happy lifestyle.

I have to think they don't just make up all the beautiful films they do on romance if it didn't at one time ACTUALLY occur. You know what writer's are best at: Writing what they know.

Well this is what I know:
I asked my mom a month or so ago, "have you ever been in love?"

Her response?: "Oh yes, lots of times. It's easy to love."

Hmm... I must have missed that gene when little baby sami was made... *sigh*

Home Sweetie Home

 Finally picked myself out a rug, and my house is looking mighty chic (thank you landlord for the christmas gift!). Feels good to feel good at home.

Also - loving this - "Nobody better pinch me, bitch - i swear i'll go crazy."