First of all, The Hobbit starts with “In a hole in the ground there lived in a Hobbit.” My story would start “in a little box on the fourth floor of a dormitory lived a human.” Though some Hobbit homes sound lovely, I have no desire to permanently abide in a hole in the ground. Okay, maybe I’m a progressive hobbit like those in Bree or across the river or even more forward thinking like those Hobbits who settled in Rohan or Gondor. Mere locale cannot prove my lack of Hobbit blood so let’s examine Hobbits’ physical features.
Height is one of the most distinctive Hobbit features. According to the all-knowing Wikipedia, Hobbits are between two and four feet tall. Yes I’m short, but not that short. Just because the whole world has a problem with being freakishly tall doesn’t mean my five foot one height makes me a hobbit. I’m merely a short human in a world full of Ents. I do have a few other Hobbit like traits that deserve acknowledgement. Yes, I would love six meals a day and I despise wearing shoes. Girl shoes are pretty, but not always very comfortable. I could even get down with giving other people presents for my birthday.
My only real issue with being a Hobbit (okay, the hairy feet thing bothers me a tiny bit too) is not coming of age until 33. I’m 20. I did the whole yay I’m sixteen and have my license along with the great I’m eighteen and can buy cigarettes and porn (can being the operative word). Next year I fully intend to celebrate my twenty-first birthday by being free of most age restricting laws (I can’t rent a car in lots of places, but I suck at driving so that’s understandable).
I’m not a Hobbit. I’ll send you pictures of my average looking feet and astound five foot one vertical accomplishment if necessary. I do however adore Hobbits. I even have a Hobbit plushie that I received as a birthday present. We look nothing alike, but we’re great friends nonetheless.
*Also I fully encourage the reading of Tolkien’s The Hobbit before the movie comes out (December 14, 2012).