The last frontier ....

So, when it comes to comments regarding my body size we've covered work, hospital (x 2 ) and the social setting, and last remaing scene was of course uni. As I walked up to a lecturer earlier this week to thank her for a good lecture and tut (see, I am a nice person!!) she just looks (up) at me and exclaims: "God, how tall you are. I'm even wearing heels, imagine if I was in flats, oh dear...." Almost felt like saying that she should feel lucky that I wasn't wearing heels that day, but didn't.

Is it just me, or has everyone all of a sudden discovered how tall I am? Have I grown taller or has everone else shrunk?? Am I just narcissistic and self obessed? Anyone out there that has done there psych term, please get back to me ASAP. (On the other hand, guess you need to be self obsessed to some degree to keep publishing on your on blog...)

Monstersize?

A girl at work confided in me yesterday that she was a bit scared of me the first time she saw me in person. Not because I looked angry or anything, but because I was so TALL!

HELP!

...and the band played on.

Quote of the day: "...but look how tall she is!!!"

(And yes, she was pointing at me at the time. What to do, what to do... Anyone over 183 cm, please make yourself known so we can form a support group.)

A night on the town...

A short summary of last night's outing to a pub in the city:

1. Arm wrestled a cute English guy who had a rabbit on his key chain with which he decided to caress my face.

2. Arm wrestled a guy from Melbourne who is a rep for a company that sells supplies for orthopedic surgery.

3. Arm wrestled a middle aged Irishman who in an attempt to comfort me after the wrestle said "...but I will never be as big as you."


PS Lost all fights but gained free drinks and some nice conversation
PPS None of these fights were initiated by me

All crutches must be kept on a leash!

Sporting a walking booth and a pair of crutches is almost like having a dog, it gives you a lot of attention. Some of this attention is in my case decidedly undeserved. If you have a broken leg, yes, but if your only injury is a sprained ligament, the risk of coming off as a princess is high. The attention has come from various sources and has varied greatly in content. From the elderly gentleman in the street who told me I shouldn’t be playing soccer, but get married, to the doctor that told me that girls shouldn’t play soccer, period. This was the week after he had looked me up and down and consequently asked me what my parents fed me as a child.(!) These two “conversations” are the only ones I’ve enjoyed with the doc in question.

On the other side of the spectrum you have the seasoned sports people who tell you stories of their injuries and how they never needed to be on crutches, just strapped it up and got on with it. Oh well, I swore that this time I will be compliant and hence have spent way too much time with one leg up. I’m even over playing solitaire on my computer, which really says something to those of you who know me well. This weekend I’ve watched Bridget Jones’s Diary twice in two days, and half of “Honey, I shrunk the kids”.

I hereby rest my case (and my leg) and look forward to give the crutches back to the physiotherapist in a week!!