Shrimps and Bombshells

Speaking of my height, or lack of it - I am currently reading this adolescent lit novel; Shrimp, by Rachel Cohn. It's the sequel to Gingerbread, by the same author.
Protagonist Cyd Charisse is a smart, rebellious rich teenage girl living in San Francisco. Her boyfriend/ex-boyfriend's nickname is Shrimp, because he's so tiny. (Errr, that's his whole body, not his boy parts.) Cyd Charisse herself is a tall, lanky thing; all fishnets and combat-booted legs, dark hair, and surly attitude. Cyd describes Shrimp as "a pint-sized surfer" but is never negative about his height - she doesn't seem to view it as a detractor from his overall sexiness.

Well, finally! I'm so sick of the notion that women have to be smaller than their male partners - I think it's the stupidest thing in the world. Who came up with that? Why do we buy into it? Why do we perpetuate it? Personally, I think short men are hot. Once or twice, when I've been in very tall shoes, I've been taller than someone I was dating, and it always made me feel like a total bombshell. This pleasant illusion of my own statuesque tallness hasn't repeated itself very often, due to my ridiculous lack of height. I really am a tall woman trapped in a mini body. (I'm also a spiritual D-cup trapped in a B-cup bra, but let's not talk about it. There's no reason to sadden myself unnecessarily.)

(Unfortunately, Dear Daniel is some eight inches taller than I am; oh well, he has other charms. Plus, he sometimes lets me walk on curbs next to him while he walks in the street so that I can feel tall. Dear Daniel, you are the best!)

I like when I see taller women with shorter men; I think it looks good, but it only looks good if they both obviously feel confident about it. No slouching or slumping!