When I was just knee high to a grasshopper I would kneel at the foot of my bed and pray, not for humanity, my family or even to marry LL Cool J (it was the early 90’s) but that I would grow up to be 5′ 9″ just like Cindy Crawford. (If that’s not a run on sentence I don’t know what is. Also, I don’t know what is.) When I entered my sophomore year of high school at just under 5′ 5″ it occurred to me that God may have other priorities aside from my wish for super model stature. (He did, however, see that Curb Your Enthusiasm debuted on HBO so there’s that.)
So I did what any other materialistic, image obsessed short stack would do. I spent every last penny I had buying heels. While other teens scrimped and saved for college (or beer more likely) I was amassing a collection of pumps no other girl in my high school could rival. (Yeah, I know!) In hindsight that may be why my higher education amounts to a single semester of community college. That may also have something to do with the fact that I couldn’t even qualify for college level math so I had to go to something called a “Work Force Training Center”. I think the abbreviation for that is D.U.M.B.