Complaints of an 'almost-but-not-quite-midget'

My height (or lack thereof) has never been a problem for me. Standing at half an inch under 5' 2", was always cool with me.
As a teenager, the main reason I liked being short was so that I'd not have to bend down to kiss my man. I mean, seriously, think about it. When do you ever watch a romantic movie where the girl leans down to embrace and passionately smooch the guy? Um, never? And I wanted nothing less than the romance movies were made of.
Of course, this was also during the years when I knew quite a few really cute guys who happened to be a bit on the shorter side. My taller friends would mourn the fact that '--insert name--' was so hot, but "how could they be with a guy whose head barely reached their shoulder?" It was a sad time for them, and I sympathized, while secretly thanking my lucky stars for the shortness granted to me.
As I've continued living the life of a short person however, I've realized that there are a few definite disadvantages to being vertically challenged.

For one thing, what is up with tall people feeling sorry for short people?! Do I look unhappy, vexed, and height-discontented? But more importantly, did I ask for opinions concerning the height at which I stand?
Secondly, why are the grocery items that I need always placed up on the shelf that's closer to the ceiling than to the floor?! Do I look like I'm dressed to go climbing here? Or is there some new World Rule that only 7ft 9in tall people can buy groceries?
And thirdly, my last 'bummer' about being short, is that when you start to fall, you're already so close to the ground that you have no way to prevent a complete face-plant.
Or maybe I'm just an unlucky short person.


We won't talk about face-planting right now. The pain is too fresh, the wounds too raw, and the humiliation too recent...