Do you ever lose track of how much room you take up? Your body, I mean. Being so tall, it's not like I walk around, day in and day out, thinking to myself, "Wow, I am so tall." I forget. I forget that my inseam is a good 8 inches longer than average. I forget that my torso is longer than most people's until I try on clothes and things which are not supposed to be belly shirts are too short on me. I forget how long my arms and legs really are until I hit them on something (I am a complete klutz).

Yes, I lose track of how much space I take up. This concept relates to both things I wanted to mention today.

The first happened Wednesday night. Mike and I went to see Joe Jackson at a theater in the city. AMAZING show -- it was the third time I'd seen Joe live and he does not disappoint. And he didn't even play my fave song of his ("Real Men") but that was okay because the rest of it was SO GOOD! So I was minding my own business. Waiting for Joe to go on. And I felt a tap tap tap on my shoulder. I turned around and this extremely short woman behind me asked me to not sit on my coat because she couldn't see over me.

I was like, "What?" I said to her I wasn't sitting on my coat and that I was very tall. I scrunched down as far as I could, but that quickly became uncomfortable during the show, so I sat normally for the second half of it. Frankly, it was her bad luck ending up behind me and I tried not to feel too badly about it. I often end up with one of the five people taller than me at a show directly in front of me, so I know what that is like. But my jeans were in direct contact with the upholstery on the chair, so there was no added height from a bunched-up coat under my butt. I walk around usually pretty much oblivious to my height, until someone reminds me about how tall I actually am. Do you ever lose track of your size too?

The other thing related to losing track of my size is part of the healthy eating kick I've been on since last summer. I realized when I looked at myself in the mirror earlier this week that the jeans I'd been able to finally squeeze into earlier this year were really baggy on me. So I tried on a size down and they are even a little bit big on me! Oh my gosh... how did this happen? I've just been going about my business and not paying any attention to weight loss AT ALL the past few months.

Yesterday, I was feeling especially brave and I tried on the size smaller than that, and, while I could get them buttoned and zipped without having to lie down on the bed, they were tight enough that I probably wouldn't walk out of the house with them like that. But just the fact that I could put on pants that I came nowhere near fitting into not that long ago was an amazing discovery for me. I'm not sure what the point is here, other than I'm pretty darn proud of myself and my progress, even as unmonitored as it has been of late. I should be able to get into those skinniest jeans (and they are indeed the smallest size I own and we're talking SINGLE DIGIT SIZE) in the very not-too-distant future. That's a big difference from where I was last July.

Apparently not only do I forget how tall I am, I also wasn't realizing how skinny I'd become until I tried those jeans on.