Why Aren't There Different Shirt Length Options For Each Size???

Come on! I wanna show off Hodor, not my belly.

By now, you've probably read enough of my humble little blog to know that I'm not afraid to ask the important questions, really dig down deep to explore the world and our humanity, and if necessary, overturn big heavy rocks of convention, tradition, or assumption. Today, I make another big, bold, boisterous step and ask one of the most important questions I've ever asked: why the hell aren't there different shirt length options for each shirt size?

Just because someone is buying a small t-shirt doesn't mean they're a minuscule midget, or a gargantuan giant if buying extra large, yet these are the asinine assumptions most shirt manufacturers make (except for you, my beloved Express Men, you make glorious form-fitting smalls at a reasonable, no-belly-exposing length!). Do they not know that it's not only possible, but common to be tall and skinny, short and large, or any combination in between? People come not just in all widths, but all heights too, so why do shirts assume a height based on width?

An inch increase for each size. Seriously? 

Width is not the only measurement of an object's size. Mathematically, you have to have the height/length and depth too, or you're not measuring three-dimensional size, you're just measuring a single one-dimensional property. And last time I checked, people are three dimensional. Therefore, shirt sizes should accommodate the varying three-dimensional occurrences of human size.

And heck, manufacturers only need to worry about two measurements anyway since, for almost every single human on the planet, depth and width correlate pretty well. When you get wider, you usually get proportionally deeper too and vice-versa, though the beer-belly can be a bastard and throw the formula out of whack. But since shirts are basically measured by the circumference of an oval, and made out of material that flexibly adapts to differing oval shapes of width and depth, shirt size accounts reasonably well for that measurement. It's just the height measurement that's missing. Turn that oval into a tube, which is rudimentarily what we are.

Oh my god, I've really gotten in the weeds with math. What the hell? Okay, let's get back to the human issue here. Not that math isn't important or relevant. You kinda have to talk about the math to illustrate the problem and anyway, where would we be without math? We would never have gone to the moon, we wouldn't have computers or smartphones, we wouldn't be able to auto-tune shitty singers, we wouldn't have dopamine-inducing videogames, we wouldn't have a perfectly fine-tuned Reese's Peanut Butter Cup recipe that guarantees the same tasty delight each and every time...there's an almost endless list of things we wouldn't have or have achieved without math. We owe math big time, I mean—oh crap, I'm back in the weeds again. Sorry.

The greatest mathematical equation of all time.

Anyway, I get that manufacturers can't have a bazillion options for each shirt on the racks, and that bodies come in such variety it's nearly impossible to have perfect options for everyone, but there's no reason there shouldn't AT LEAST be two different length options for each size. A regular small and a tall small, a regular large and a tall large. That would go a long way to accommodating people's differences in width and height. Tall skinny people can raise their arms without exposing their bellies, and short large people can wear t-shirts that aren't dresses on them. Why the hell isn't this a thing already? Why isn't this standard operating procedure? WHY???

3 Brilliant Tiny Seeds J.K. Rowling Planted In Book One

Badass new e-book cover!

I am once again re-reading good ol' Harry Potter, this time on my Kindle that magically remembers where I left off when I fall asleep mid-page! As HP fans, we all know that you notice new things upon each re-read. J.K. Rowling was a master seed planter, and boy did she ever plant a lot of seeds in the early books. They each grew into a tree later on and together form one huge, thick, complete-with-unicorns-and-centaurs plot forest by the end of the series. It's absolutely bonkers how clearly she knew where she was going with everything, and set up a lot of it straight away.

Naturally, there's a lot of the obvious, major stuff about Horcruxes, the prophecy, and Voldemort and Harry's relationship. But the more I re-read the series, the more I notice some of the smaller details, the smaller seeds that nonetheless grew into great big whomping willows. Here are the three brilliant, tiny seeds she planted just in Book One that I've caught this time:

!!!OBLIGATORY SPOILER ALERT IN CASE YOU'RE AS THICK AS CRABBE AND GOYLE AND DIDN'T REALIZE IT ALREADY!!!

1) Voldemort Never Dared Attack Hogwarts, So It's Totes Safe

"One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn’t dare try takin’ the school, not jus’ then, anyway." - Hagrid.

In chapter four, upon first meeting Harry to inform him he's a wizard and gets to go to Hogwarts, Hagrid tells Harry the truth about the death of his parents. Obviously scared (and scarred, bazinga!) by this You-Know-Who guy, Hagrid assures Harry that he'll be safe at Hogwarts because Voldemort feared Dumbledore and never ever triple-dog-dared to attack it. 

And just to make sure the bowling pins have been properly set up for a thunderous strike, Hagrid and Hermione both reassure Harry after various brush-ins with Quirremort that he's safe as long as Dumbledore is around. Well, what happens in Books Six and Seven? Dumbledore dies and Voldemort gets brave and desperate enough to attack Hogwarts. It was planted right from the get-go. Damn it, Hermione and Hagrid, why did you have to jinx it!

2) Only A Dumbass Would Try To Rob Gringotts

"Yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – ’cept maybe Hogwarts." - Hagrid, again.

Only one chapter later, Hagrid is dropping more old-fashioned J.K. timebombs. Introducing Harry to Diagon Alley and his inherited wealth at Gringotts, Hagrid insists it's the most secure, impenetrable place in the wizarding world, aside from Hogwarts. Even if you do manage to somehow find and break into the right vault, there's so many traps and safeguards you'll never figure out how to leave and will be trapped there until you starve to death. Oh, and by the way, there are supposedly dragons guarding it. So don't be a dumbass and get any ideas, Harry. Well, I think we all know where this is going...
 

3) Dumbledore Will Still Be Around To Shoot The Breeze After Death

"After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure." - Dumbledore, aka not Hagrid.

At the end of the book, Dumbledore comforts Harry about Nicolas Flamel's impending death with this little nugget. But he's also talking about himself, albeit to us and not Harry. Surely, Dumbledore knows he'll be Flooflix and chillin' in a headmaster portrait whenever he finally kicks the bucket. But it's also a hint from J.K. that not only is Dumbledore going to die, but that there's something beyond death and Dumbledore will be there for Harry. 

Granted, it's left ambiguous whether their post-death chat was real—in some other plane of existence—or just in Harry's fevered, freshly de-Horcruxed head. But if you ask me, this is her plain-as-day clue it's real and, seeing as how Dumbledore is the most well-organized mind in the wizarding world, it's also her hint he's gonna bite the bullet but still exist in another form. She smart AF.

Literal Leap of Faith

On Tuesday, I was about to go on my favorite hike: up Mt Wilson and back from Chantry Flat. But when I came to the road gate at the edge of civilization, I found it locked with a note that the area was closed due to a bear attack the day before. Well...damn, that was unheard of. I had no choice but to either go home or find a different hike. So I drove for another hour, sitting in rush hour traffic, and then winding the mountain roads up the Angeles Crest Highway to the top of Mt. Wilson. There, I was able to park at the Observatory and start from the top, instead going down the northern back side and then back up.

The north side of Mt. Wilson is seldom used, in stark contrast to the south side where tons of people every day hike from Chantry Flat. It's therefore pretty rugged at times, not to mention eerily narrow and steep at the top. In particular, there is one mile-long stretch at the bottom that is so rugged, overgrown, and terrorized by fallen trees, I lost count how many times I paused, unsure where the trail continued or if I was even still on the trail. I had to take walks and, sometimes, literal leaps of faith (those damn trees!).

Trees did make for a nice lunch spot, though.

I had no option but to repeatedly make a choice based off my best guess and leap into the unknown, with no way of knowing if I was going the right way or not until I was already further down the path. It was bonkers, but also a fun adventure. Don't worry, my hiking instincts are now well-honed and I never got lost. Somehow, I figured out the right path every time, and usually at first try. Even the times I didn't go the right way initially, I pretty quickly figured it out, backtracked, and then immediately knew which way was the right way.

While on this adventure, it occurred to me what a truthful metaphor for life this is. None of us really knows what we're doing, and we constantly have to take leaps of faith into the unknown, unsure if we're going in the right direction, unsure if we're heading towards our destination of happiness or taking a detour where we'll get lost. But we can't sit still and do nothing, even though sometimes we feel paralyzed by anxiety, fear, or confusion. We have to move forward. We have to make choices, even when we don't know what the right choice is and we desperately fear we might make the wrong one. We have to put one foot in front of the other anyway, and keep going.

Very helpful sign. Thanks.

It hit me rather hard. For the past year and a half, I have been metaphorically standing still in the forest, unable to make a choice and go forward. Last May, after years of misery and doubt, I reached my breaking point and finally plucked up the courage to quit my old career as an editor in the film and tv industry. It too was a leap of faith. I had no idea or even the faintest clue what I would do with my life. I just knew I had to make that leap into the unknown, and so I did. 

Then, I took a long hard look at myself and figured out what transferable skills I have, revamped the resume/LinkedIn, and began the job search, not really knowing what the heck I should do with my life now, but at least armed with knowledge of what I'm capable of and the value I can provide. However, over the last year and a half, aside from some occasional temp work here and there, I've remained unemployed. I look for jobs every weekday, send out custom-tailored resumes and cover letters, but I remained wracked by indecision. I've come to realize that, this whole time, I've been paralyzed by fear and anxiety. 

Uh...how do I get through THAT?

I spent a decade pursuing a career that made me miserable. "What if the next job makes me miserable all over again? I can't choose wrong and waste any more time, because I'm well into my thirties and single amongst happily married friends and some are starting families, so oh god I have to find a good new career so I have something to cling to or I'll just be a miserable, lonely loser!" That's just a small sample of the rampaging, irrational, and ridiculous thoughts and emotions clouding my heart and mind, rooting me to the ground in fear.

But the leap of faith hike reminds me: I can't just stay put. I have to put one foot in front of the other. Even if it's not the right path and turns out to be a detour, I can just change course and take another path. Eventually, I'll find the right path, but I have to start somewhere. I have to make a choice without knowing if it's the right one or not. I've taken the literal leap of faith. Now I need to take the metaphorical leap of faith.

Everyone's A Little Bit Hipster

On Sunday, I sat down for a double feature of Seven Samurai, one of my favorite films of all time, and the original The Magnificent Seven, which I had never seen. Mostly, it was because it had been awhile since I'd seen 7S and it's an itch I occasionally need to scratch, and I was really curious about M7. 

But, it was also because the trailer for the new one looked terrible, and screw Hollywood for remaking a classic instead of coming up with something original. And because the original M7 was already a filthy American remake of the clearly superior Japanese film, even though I hadn't seen the original M7 yet. And because I already adored and had seen 7S loads of times before Chris Pratt thought it was cool!

This meme...such dankness! 

And then it hit me, the dark truth I didn't want to admit to myself and had long been in denial of: holy...fucking...shit...I'm a little bit hipster. Despite all my ranting and railing against hipsters, I'm a little bit hipster too. And then it hit me even harder: I've spent so many years feeling smug about how hipsters are inferior to the rest us, THAT doubly makes me a hipster. God damn't. And thus, a mini emotional crisis briefly raged.

Thankfully, just as quickly as it struck, it faded away as I came to the comforting realization that it's not just me. Everyone's a little bit hipster sometimes. We all have hobbies, thoughts, and possessions we feel a little smug about. We all have things that make us think we're better than the masses. We all think to ourselves we were into something before it was cool or get bitter and frustrated over something we aren't into being so damn popular. We all want to rebel against popularity and conformity. Let's face it: we're all a little bit hipster.

Now, that doesn't mean we shouldn't still mock hipsters. We absofuckinglutely should. They're smug, snotty bastards that have designed their entire lives around being unique non-conformists, despite the fact they all wear the same god damn uniform, are into the same god damn things, and follow the same god damn trends. They ironically think they're setting trends and discovering cool things, despite the fact that everything they're into is retro stuff their parents and grandparents were into before they thought it was cool. They're just as conformist and unoriginal as the rest of us, just extra obnoxious and oblivious about it. 

Of course, they'll ask, "why should you care?" Simple: because they're dicks about it, thinking and acting as if they're cooler, more enlightened, or superior to other people. That sentiment might be mild or extreme, they might be so self-unaware and deluded they can't see it, but it's sure as shit always there. It might seem harmless, but it really isn't. It's a nasty sentiment that rubs people the wrong way, making them feel bad about themselves, and in one's self, it fosters destructive, narcissistic, and close-minded thinking. It needs to be stamped out of people. Continuing to mock hipsters reinforces the shame and disapproval we feel of ourselves when we realize we're a little bit hipster. That's a good thing. We all need the hipster knocked out of us.

So continue the good fight against hipsters. Keep making fun of them for being obnoxious pieces of shit. But remember, sometimes, so are you. You're a little bit hipster too, so continue the good fight against yourself. 

And seriously, watch Seven Samurai. Heck, watch the original The Magnificent Seven too, though it's not as subtle and poignant as Seven Samurai. And I'm totally not just saying that because it was first and I saw it first, it just really is true. M7 is watered down and 7S is clearly better...oh god damn't, I'm doing it again. Get out of me, you damned dirty hipster! The power of Christ compels you!!!