I havnt really thought through what I'm going to write about right now; not that I do usually, but sometimes there are certain things which are bothering me. That is not the case right now.

However, something which does bug me, on an almost daily basis, is something quite personal, and something which, sadly, I cannot do a hell of a lot about - and that is my height.

Being a nice 5'10", some people may say that I am lucky to be so tall - it is to you, that I ask the following questions.
How can it be nice to be so tall, when 90% of the male population, seems to be so bloody small?

Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise

Not trying to degrade any male species of his unfortunate in height, and hey, maybe to some girls, the shorter man really is amongst her top favourite features - just sadly, it's not one of mine. Call me old fashioned, but I would prefer my man to be bigger than me. I'm hardly the 'cutest' of girls, and I personally laugh in the face of romance, but I still cannot escape the fact that I would at least like to feel cute, smaller, dare I say, protected?

Aside from this matter, there is also the slight issue of clothing.
Every year they bring back the maxi dress, complimenting the 'boho' festival look. And you know what, I love it. I would love to wear a maxi dress out, with some nice sandals, headband and sunglasses; especially because they're great for shapeless girls like myself (I have tried to derive from the 'boyish figure' term which I would fall into in most magazine categories!).
Sadly however, I am bound from wearing them, because every year, when I shut myself away in that fitting room, and pull the dress over my body, the mirror soon reveals to me that you can see my ankles. These dresses are meant to be touching the floor for most women, and yet on me, they sit above my ankles. It's a bloody travesty I tell you.

Maxi Dress from REPUBLIC

In addition to this, it also makes you look like a slag, because you just have so much body. Dresses look ten times shorter on you than on your fellow friend, because a) you have twice as much leg on show, but also b) the dress covers up half as much body.

Anyway, enough of the ever-growing issue of my body (haha), and onto maybe, a slightly more pressing matter. Time. Something which as I've grown older, I have become more and more familiar with. It has become like an annoying relative - at first, when you're younger, you dont even really notice their presence, and you dont even really understand the concept of them, other than the fact that they're there. As you grow older however, they become more and more annoying, and more and more noticeable, and you realise that you simply cannot escape them - that's how I've chosen to look at it anyway.

'Time is of the essence' as every teacher says. This is true. Our lives are constantly spent battling with time, and the older we become, the less good at this we seem. With age, time turns into an enemy, and it is like youth - something you wish you could have more of, something that, once it's gone, you can never have back. Rather depressing really!

Madonna lied, time does not go by so slowly

Thinking of time flying by, brings me into happy thoughts; the pressing issue of the count down until my birthday. Only 30 days to go now. Literally, so excited about this thought, because it only seems like a week or so ago when I would come downstairs in the morning and announce to my family, "Better start buying, only 87 days to go!", and yet look at me now, only a mere month away from womanhood.

When you're 18 you can legally get married, without parental consent.
So if you're reading this, and you're good looking, tall, well spoken, charming, funny, a man and in the money, you dont have much longer to wait.

Loving and leaving,

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