Well, I guess since I'm up an hour before my alarm goes off and there is zero hope of me returning to sleep, it's a good time to write in here. Clear my mind before classes a little bit.
I guess now would be a good time to talk about the one armed midget I saw last week. And before you say something like "LITTLE PEOPLE. SHOW SOME SENSITIVITY," I think midget is a better word. Midget just sounds awesome. It's like a state of mind. Like, "don't mess around with me, I'm a midget." Little people sounds like something my sister used to play with when she was little. Little people belong in a little toy house and come with weird clothes that Velcro in the back. Better than those dumb rubber clothes that Polly Pocket and all of her dumb little friends came with. They are the poster children for abstinence. Can you imagine how that would go? Polly has a nice date with her friend, and things get a little hot, but then it's like "haha mutha fucka, good luck with the rubber bra. Also, my pants are a bitch to remove. Good luck getting any tonight!" Actually I guess Barbie had it a little worse, with the painted on underwear. Maybe that's why her and Ken broke up. Things just "weren't working out..."
Anyway, back to the midget, although that was quite an entertaining tangent. I also don't like the name dwarf, because it sounds like you are trying to pass as some kind of mythical creature. You don't live in fantasy land, okay? You're just missing a chromosome.
Although I guess it's kind of unfair to me to be saying this stuff, since I am, in fact, not a midget/dwarf/little person. In a way though, I kind of wish I was. Now, if you're a midget reading this right now, and you literally have fumes coming out of your ears, don't stop reading, because it gets good. I know it can't be that great living a life with a step stool attached to your hip, or having people constantly ask to give you piggy back rides (actually no, that would be pretty sweet), but think of the sense of community. I've seen that show "Little People Big World," and I see the conventions for midgets. Seriously. A bunch of midgets get together and just bond and get drunk and have fun. I'm totally jealous. Where do you honestly think that I'm going to find a convention for a bunch of other white, suburban girls? That's right. Nowhere.
But back to the one armed midget I saw the last week. I looked at that guy and thought "Damn, that guy really drew the shortest straw there is." No pun intended. But I could see myself complaining about things to this guy and just seeing the look on his face. Whenever I think about complaining about how bad things are for me, in my mind I can't help but see the face of this man, with a "seriously, wtf" expression on his face saying to me, "you're complaining about heartbreak? "I only have one arm. I'm also a midget." Seriously, my life may be bad right now, but that guy will ALWAYS be a one armed midget. Condemned to getting offered piggyback rides for the rest of his life. What a terrible existence.