the single vitruvian woman

most people (thanks, i'm sure, in large part to dan brown and the popularity of "the da vinci code") know of leondardo da vinci's drawing of the vitruvian man. the vitruvian man, based on the theories of the architect vetruvius and brought to the masses by da vinci, illustrates how the measurements of the human body are distributed by nature in many aspects. for example, elbow to wrist equals the length of your foot, from the roots of the hair to the bottom of the chin is 1/10 of you height, and the length of your armspan is equal to your height. don't believe me? go ahead and measure. i'll wait.

ok, done? great. da vinci is pretty right on with the vitruvian man and the measurements that correspond to height and other body parts. but, why is it that sometimes those theories of measurement by nature don't pan out? i have complained and joked on several occassions about my freakishly long arms. (trust me, even the lady at the gap told me they were strangely long for my body) so, i put leonardo's theory to the test. i am just about 5'3", though i like to say i'm at least 5'4" - because that really makes a difference, right? when i measured my armspan, i found, to no surprise, that it was nearly 5'6" in length, thus violating the theory that armspan equals height. shit. i got robbed!

what i think is this - i've so adapted to the single life, that my arms have also gone through the adaptation process. like creatures in the wild that evolve and change to adapt to their surroundings and environment, i have gained a good 3 inches of armspan. how does this relate to being single? let me enlighten you.

a) i can reach and effectively scratch every single, solitary spot on my back. i can do this with no pain, no weird twisting motions, no rubbing my back against walls or objects. it's cake.

b) with approximately 1 1/2 inches of extra arm length on each upper appendage, i'm just able to reach many things on shelves and in cabinets that i would need a step stool to get to had my arms been the correct length for my height.

c) i can zip, button, snap and tie any piece of clothing with a back closure. no need for anyone to help in that department. in turn, i can also remove said clothing with the greatest of ease.

d) i used to be able to hug myself and grasp my fingers behind my back. very comforting when you're sad and have no boyfriend to comfort you. unfortunately, this little trick has gone away temporarily because i seem to be getting fatter and now cannot get my fingers to touch, though it's close. i'd like to blame it on my large breasts getting in the way, but we all know what a lie that would be.

i could probably name more advantages, but you get my point. i don't need a guy around to scratch my back, tie a garment, unzip a dress, reach for the laundry detergent, or even hug me. nature has allowed me to adapt to my single environment and do these things for myself.

so, i wonder - what other adaptations will emerge over the upcoming years of singledom? will i get a pet and teach it to open beer bottles for me? will the brain cells that facilitate my longing for someone to curl up with on the couch or invite out to dinner start to dry up and die? will my emotions just start to drain out of my body, only to be replaced by a need for solitude and insignificant one night stands? maybe my need for companionship will be completely filled by self. *shudder*

adaptation of a species? the new vitruvian woman? you tell me....