"In by March - out by June" ?????
Is this our governments idea of the military "Rythym Method" ?
Either way - someones getting fucked.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
...my biggest achievement of the weekend was receiving my new dining room table. It's a trip how it changes the dynamic of not just the room between my kitchen and my TV room but of the whole house. I'm reading a book on Feng Shui and have yet to adopt the practices - or buy in to the whole thing - but I do find it interesting that the rooms I feel least comfortable in have furniture that faces directions that don't work with my natural "Year of the Rooster - THE COCK" shui ( pronounced - SHWAAAAAAYYYYYYY). Anyway - it makes my house look so "House-Like" - less the single guy with beer and poppers in the fridge and more the - I think we'll have Duck L'Orange for dinner.
Another stop on the way to Adultsville.
Another stop on the way to Adultsville.
Friday, January 24, 2003
Well, now.
Have I ever been deluged (am I making up words again or is that one real?), bombarded, buried with emails regarding my "Woe-is-me" drunkenly scrawled ramblings of Wednesday night. Every email has been a sweet bitch-slapping, charming butt-kicking, loving hit-to-the-back of head message. I owe responses. But I'm trying to come up with the apropos combination of flirtation/musing/bitchiness/cajoling to answer them back.
The funny - yet wonderful - thing about blogging is that it is all relative to moments in time. Much like life. In one, or a collective series of moments, we can feel inextricably one way. Mostly because we are "feeling" that way. Feelings are fluid. They can possess a viscosity that allows them to slowly move across your psyche, or a fire-consuming like content that races them from tip-of-toe-to-top-of-head in a day. My depressions are a crimson and orange lava slowly ebbing through my brain - my self-loathing’s are more sporadic - a summer-time brush fire, all consuming - but quickly extinguished.
I DO like my age. I'm so glad to be beyond the youthful bullshit of floating checks to get by (more often ending with the sound - BOING!), sleeping around to see if in others - I would/could/should find myself, rubbing one penny by itself (because - it was the richer kids who had TWO to rub together - not me) and the endless insecurities of maybe never being someone my parents could be proud of.
Oddly enough Sunday was a great self-esteem day. Gay Rodeo - men who appreciate men weekend. I got so much attention at Charlie’s that it became a little awkward hoping it wouldn't strike jealousy in my boyfriend’s heart. I felt very appreciated - even if it was as a Daddy.
I HAVE the HAVES. Things you aspire to have by 33. Car, House, Dog, Boyfriend, Friends and a wealth of memories of having done crazy things, illegal things, stupid things, happy things and in all of them "memorable" things. I have success because I beat the shit out of myself to get it. I convince myself that these things complete me, make me or enhance me. So isn't it funny that the people who read me - like me and have never seen or experienced these "Haves" - they have chosen to like me for my written word, my passionate ramblings, and my off-base humor. I am all states of evolution depending on which attribute or characteristic you are concentrating on - in some ways I'm a wise old man, in others a silly, naive, little boy.
Whether slow-moving lava or quick-burning fire - I do know this - I am a force of nature, an element of something bigger - and I evolve as slowly and as quickly as I can.
Have I ever been deluged (am I making up words again or is that one real?), bombarded, buried with emails regarding my "Woe-is-me" drunkenly scrawled ramblings of Wednesday night. Every email has been a sweet bitch-slapping, charming butt-kicking, loving hit-to-the-back of head message. I owe responses. But I'm trying to come up with the apropos combination of flirtation/musing/bitchiness/cajoling to answer them back.
The funny - yet wonderful - thing about blogging is that it is all relative to moments in time. Much like life. In one, or a collective series of moments, we can feel inextricably one way. Mostly because we are "feeling" that way. Feelings are fluid. They can possess a viscosity that allows them to slowly move across your psyche, or a fire-consuming like content that races them from tip-of-toe-to-top-of-head in a day. My depressions are a crimson and orange lava slowly ebbing through my brain - my self-loathing’s are more sporadic - a summer-time brush fire, all consuming - but quickly extinguished.
I DO like my age. I'm so glad to be beyond the youthful bullshit of floating checks to get by (more often ending with the sound - BOING!), sleeping around to see if in others - I would/could/should find myself, rubbing one penny by itself (because - it was the richer kids who had TWO to rub together - not me) and the endless insecurities of maybe never being someone my parents could be proud of.
Oddly enough Sunday was a great self-esteem day. Gay Rodeo - men who appreciate men weekend. I got so much attention at Charlie’s that it became a little awkward hoping it wouldn't strike jealousy in my boyfriend’s heart. I felt very appreciated - even if it was as a Daddy.
I HAVE the HAVES. Things you aspire to have by 33. Car, House, Dog, Boyfriend, Friends and a wealth of memories of having done crazy things, illegal things, stupid things, happy things and in all of them "memorable" things. I have success because I beat the shit out of myself to get it. I convince myself that these things complete me, make me or enhance me. So isn't it funny that the people who read me - like me and have never seen or experienced these "Haves" - they have chosen to like me for my written word, my passionate ramblings, and my off-base humor. I am all states of evolution depending on which attribute or characteristic you are concentrating on - in some ways I'm a wise old man, in others a silly, naive, little boy.
Whether slow-moving lava or quick-burning fire - I do know this - I am a force of nature, an element of something bigger - and I evolve as slowly and as quickly as I can.
Thursday, January 23, 2003
...who are you ? and where have you taken my face ???
it sucks, really - it just sucks. I've built my site on talking about the bigger issues and greater thoughts - i hope - so in context the post I begin to write is self-fulfilled and trite. but honestly at 33 - it sucks to begin to fade. I didn't write the rules - but I knew them - I've always known them. For all the people who disregard you when your young as "pretty" and "smart" - the pretty counts for so much more in the gay scene than you realize. Oh what it is to be a pretty face and hot body! When I was young - I looked - well fuck it - I looked pretty damn good. I thought my set-back was everything else. I hadnt gotten the degree, I wasn't making the $$$, I was driving a pick-up. But tonight - at 33 - hanging with my buddies who were in there 20's it was painfully obvious - that my muscles, my cock, my checking account, my BMW - were nothing. I had bags underneath my eyes that no ORIGINS product seemed to eliminate, I had a hairline that "ran" from me as quickly as it receded from my forehead, I had love handles that grew over muscle and my heart and my spirit hung half as high.
It's vain and it's BS, but it's the life we live in. Where smoother is pretty and tighter is better and younger is well, younger.
I used to own this bar - and now I'm barely taking up breathing room.
it sucks, really - it just sucks. I've built my site on talking about the bigger issues and greater thoughts - i hope - so in context the post I begin to write is self-fulfilled and trite. but honestly at 33 - it sucks to begin to fade. I didn't write the rules - but I knew them - I've always known them. For all the people who disregard you when your young as "pretty" and "smart" - the pretty counts for so much more in the gay scene than you realize. Oh what it is to be a pretty face and hot body! When I was young - I looked - well fuck it - I looked pretty damn good. I thought my set-back was everything else. I hadnt gotten the degree, I wasn't making the $$$, I was driving a pick-up. But tonight - at 33 - hanging with my buddies who were in there 20's it was painfully obvious - that my muscles, my cock, my checking account, my BMW - were nothing. I had bags underneath my eyes that no ORIGINS product seemed to eliminate, I had a hairline that "ran" from me as quickly as it receded from my forehead, I had love handles that grew over muscle and my heart and my spirit hung half as high.
It's vain and it's BS, but it's the life we live in. Where smoother is pretty and tighter is better and younger is well, younger.
I used to own this bar - and now I'm barely taking up breathing room.
Thursday, January 16, 2003
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
The question is out there again, not "Why would anyone ever give Anna Nicole Smith her own show?" or "Where is there more corruption - the Catholic Church or Corporate America?" (though both are very, VERY valid questions)
But : "Why do we blog?"
I came across something off of my referral log today of interest, an exchange on "Datalounge":
RE: Blogs?
by: anonymous 01/14/2003 @ 11:56PM
Some say that these are just people with too much time on their hands. I say no. The people who follow them have too much time on their hands.
RE: Blogs?
by: anonymous 01/14/2003 @ 11:58PM
"Some say that these are just people with too much time on their hands. I say no. The people who follow them have too much time on their hands."
Takes less time to follow one than to have one, so I say you're wrong
First - I'm pulling this comment out of context, the writer(s) from what I saw read blogs and had favorites and may or may not have been bloggers themselves ( I am in no way jumping on them and hope they don't mind me stealing a piece of there conversation) - but these two sentences just kept bouncing around in my head. I mean so many bloggers sit around wondering why they do this - and then to see what others may think really made me think.
SO: (Oops - dammit I forgot to have a "Second")...anyway....
Uh....bloggers are people with too much time on their hands ???
That's weird - I hit the gym 4-5 days a week, read voraciously (Business Week, Fortune Small Business, Men's Health - for the articles, Nun's Weekly - for the pictures, and even actual books - does 'scratch-n-sniff' count - not the book, me when I'm reading the book), I run every aspect of a successful small business, I invest time in a successful relationship of over three years, I take my dog to the dog park and play soccer in the backyard with her,
I find time to hope,
dream,
laugh,
share,
fuck,
love,
party,
and think.
I spend almost everyday of my existence thinking "There just isn't enough time in the day".
So - nope, that's not true.
Blog readers "are people with too much time on there hands"....nope, don't believe it.
Are we discounting that this is any less real a way to spend time then reading 'Moby Dick' (yes I mean the book by Herman Melville that bores everyone to unconciousness) ? I for one don't believe you could ever - EVER - be a blogger without being a reader. How does almost every blogger become a blogger ? Cause and Effect -baby - by reading a blog that inspires them to write their own - let's think of it as an intellectual virus. I learn so much by reading other blogs. I learn about life in different cities, other countries and how we/I often myopically view our world/our life as universal. I see how others deal with death - beautifully and with courage. I read insights into literature, sports, the arts, pop culture, politics and history. It takes tons of time to follow other bloggers (just like maintaining "real world" friendships) - to choose between those who become friends and teachers that you follow everyday, to those you check in on - that flesh out the enriching and diverse world wide neighborhood you choose to live in. I connect with people I WILL meet, MAY meet and will NEVER meet, but a slice of how they are glows off this screen at you - intermingled with my ramblings, meandering thoughts and eccentric humor.
We seek validation.
We hope to be known.
We attempt to connect.
There's nothing WRONG with that.
We do it every day in this thing called our daily existance. Whether it be hoping the hot frat boy or daddy beefcake at the gym smiles at us while were doing curls, or our dog runs to us first when were standing on the other side of the park, or our parents recognize that we are independent and successful, or that our boss senses that the company speeds along efficiently and successfully due to our exhaustive efforts.
WE ALL SEEK VALIDATION.
Stand on a street corner with busy traffic speeding by - don't you ever wonder what the drivers see standing on that street corner ?
Dance on a box in a dance bar at 1am on a packed Saturday night - don't you wonder what those swaying and dancing and mingling around you are thinking of you ?
Walk in to a crowded boardroom/classroom - do you wonder what first impression you make ?
I blog.
I don't look for "best of" votes, cash donations, naked pictures, hook-ups, blue ribbons or gifts.
I just blog.
I learn more about myself then I knew before I sat down to write...and willingly I share it, just hoping that it clicks with someone who needs to read those words. A hilarious story, a different point-of-view on a current event, a raw painful moment from my past or present or just a picture from my life.
I release my energy on to this computer and somewhere in another city, in another state, and maybe even in another country - someone walks away from their computer carrying my energy with them. Maybe it puts a "pep in there step", maybe it makes them cry, maybe it helps them see something clearer, maybe it pisses the shit out of them - but it's there, it's with them - despite mountains and miles - my energy.
I like to think that they do at least.
(I'll shut up now).
But : "Why do we blog?"
I came across something off of my referral log today of interest, an exchange on "Datalounge":
RE: Blogs?
by: anonymous 01/14/2003 @ 11:56PM
Some say that these are just people with too much time on their hands. I say no. The people who follow them have too much time on their hands.
RE: Blogs?
by: anonymous 01/14/2003 @ 11:58PM
"Some say that these are just people with too much time on their hands. I say no. The people who follow them have too much time on their hands."
Takes less time to follow one than to have one, so I say you're wrong
First - I'm pulling this comment out of context, the writer(s) from what I saw read blogs and had favorites and may or may not have been bloggers themselves ( I am in no way jumping on them and hope they don't mind me stealing a piece of there conversation) - but these two sentences just kept bouncing around in my head. I mean so many bloggers sit around wondering why they do this - and then to see what others may think really made me think.
SO: (Oops - dammit I forgot to have a "Second")...anyway....
Uh....bloggers are people with too much time on their hands ???
That's weird - I hit the gym 4-5 days a week, read voraciously (Business Week, Fortune Small Business, Men's Health - for the articles, Nun's Weekly - for the pictures, and even actual books - does 'scratch-n-sniff' count - not the book, me when I'm reading the book), I run every aspect of a successful small business, I invest time in a successful relationship of over three years, I take my dog to the dog park and play soccer in the backyard with her,
I find time to hope,
dream,
laugh,
share,
fuck,
love,
party,
and think.
I spend almost everyday of my existence thinking "There just isn't enough time in the day".
So - nope, that's not true.
Blog readers "are people with too much time on there hands"....nope, don't believe it.
Are we discounting that this is any less real a way to spend time then reading 'Moby Dick' (yes I mean the book by Herman Melville that bores everyone to unconciousness) ? I for one don't believe you could ever - EVER - be a blogger without being a reader. How does almost every blogger become a blogger ? Cause and Effect -baby - by reading a blog that inspires them to write their own - let's think of it as an intellectual virus. I learn so much by reading other blogs. I learn about life in different cities, other countries and how we/I often myopically view our world/our life as universal. I see how others deal with death - beautifully and with courage. I read insights into literature, sports, the arts, pop culture, politics and history. It takes tons of time to follow other bloggers (just like maintaining "real world" friendships) - to choose between those who become friends and teachers that you follow everyday, to those you check in on - that flesh out the enriching and diverse world wide neighborhood you choose to live in. I connect with people I WILL meet, MAY meet and will NEVER meet, but a slice of how they are glows off this screen at you - intermingled with my ramblings, meandering thoughts and eccentric humor.
We seek validation.
We hope to be known.
We attempt to connect.
There's nothing WRONG with that.
We do it every day in this thing called our daily existance. Whether it be hoping the hot frat boy or daddy beefcake at the gym smiles at us while were doing curls, or our dog runs to us first when were standing on the other side of the park, or our parents recognize that we are independent and successful, or that our boss senses that the company speeds along efficiently and successfully due to our exhaustive efforts.
WE ALL SEEK VALIDATION.
Stand on a street corner with busy traffic speeding by - don't you ever wonder what the drivers see standing on that street corner ?
Dance on a box in a dance bar at 1am on a packed Saturday night - don't you wonder what those swaying and dancing and mingling around you are thinking of you ?
Walk in to a crowded boardroom/classroom - do you wonder what first impression you make ?
I blog.
I don't look for "best of" votes, cash donations, naked pictures, hook-ups, blue ribbons or gifts.
I just blog.
I learn more about myself then I knew before I sat down to write...and willingly I share it, just hoping that it clicks with someone who needs to read those words. A hilarious story, a different point-of-view on a current event, a raw painful moment from my past or present or just a picture from my life.
I release my energy on to this computer and somewhere in another city, in another state, and maybe even in another country - someone walks away from their computer carrying my energy with them. Maybe it puts a "pep in there step", maybe it makes them cry, maybe it helps them see something clearer, maybe it pisses the shit out of them - but it's there, it's with them - despite mountains and miles - my energy.
I like to think that they do at least.
(I'll shut up now).
Monday, January 13, 2003
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
I spend quite a bit of time wondering if my parents know who I am, or even more recognize the man I've become. Though I have to admit to being taken aback (and a bit mystified) when I sat and had a lovely dinner with my Great Aunt Mae (and folks) last night and heard charming stories about what rock stars they use to be (or to use her words - "On the farm we all thought they looked like Hollywood movie stars"):
Friday, January 03, 2003
Due to the blaze at Casa Chris - "Le Swish" wants to shower at my house tonight, random thoughts escalating to a feverish pitch:
- how long will it take me to run home and practice laying around naked ?
- will my dog approve of another naked man in my shower (she likes to lick you when you step out)?
- is it wrong to continue to jerk off to Vintage Falcon porn with company present ?
- Lube, Poppers, Bullets and Cockrings - household decorations or deviant accessories ?
- Does this mean we're going steady?
- Will he buy me a ring ?
- Cock-ring ?
- Should I whip up my world famous tater-totts to make sure he's been fed ?
So much to do, cameras to install in the bathroom, wash out the one towel I use as a cum rag, hide the Olsen Twins porn collection, busy, busy!
- how long will it take me to run home and practice laying around naked ?
- will my dog approve of another naked man in my shower (she likes to lick you when you step out)?
- is it wrong to continue to jerk off to Vintage Falcon porn with company present ?
- Lube, Poppers, Bullets and Cockrings - household decorations or deviant accessories ?
- Does this mean we're going steady?
- Will he buy me a ring ?
- Cock-ring ?
- Should I whip up my world famous tater-totts to make sure he's been fed ?
So much to do, cameras to install in the bathroom, wash out the one towel I use as a cum rag, hide the Olsen Twins porn collection, busy, busy!
Thursday, January 02, 2003
.....hey, um - yeah HNY03...I've abbreviated it cause I'm kinda sick of saying it and especially hearing it. Lucky and I hid out yesterday. I put together a filing cabinet for him and we watched 'Marathon Man' which neither of us have ever seen and I cuddled with my dog every chance I got. We stayed out to 3am dancing and dropping on New Years Eve. It was different. In our last 4 New Years Eve's together we had never partied here - kinda quickly remembered why. It was nice - but in that every Saturday Night kinda way. I haven't dropped since August so - we were warm and fuzzy and went and hid on a velvet couch in a private area of the bar and made-out and bullshitted for what must have been an hour about making this last forever. Some cute, but LOUD - and I mean LOUD recent San Diego transplant fag-hag came up to tell us how adorable we were and why our Hamburger Mary's sucks, and why she loves being a fag-hag, and blah-blah-blah-blah-blah. Lucky adores obnoxious girls like this and gave her his business card and asked her to call us - I quickly got us back out on the dance floor which suddenly seemed the "quieter" and "safer" alternative. All in all a "nice" night - nothing more nothing less - we're debating Montreal or Toronto next year - someplace outside of the states.
BTW - thanks to those who read me and actually some how find amusement in my ramblings, lists, stories, thoughts, worries, bad jokes and et al. There seem to be enough of you that I've way surpassed 50,000 visitors as of the begining of the week. Thank you.
BTW - thanks to those who read me and actually some how find amusement in my ramblings, lists, stories, thoughts, worries, bad jokes and et al. There seem to be enough of you that I've way surpassed 50,000 visitors as of the begining of the week. Thank you.
Friday, December 27, 2002
ow, ow, ow, OWWWWWW
My bi's and tri's are screaming today. I started back and reinvigorated my work-out by moving to high cardio, less hard-core pumping. For the weight lifting portion I'm switching to the "Power of Ten" - ouch. Every repetition - 10 second counts. I never knew bi's/tri's could take so long. I had to drastically reduce my weight levels - but the overall affect should be increased strength and tone. I kinda don't want to shed all the weight - I must admit I do like the slight intimidation that size lends to a guy - now if I can just perfect a manly sneer.
BTW - I'm gonna hit 50,000 visitors by Sunday morning. Kinda cool I guess. Suppose the way things are right now I'll decline posting a nude pic with 50,000 written on the inside of my right thigh (johnson hangs out to the left)
My bi's and tri's are screaming today. I started back and reinvigorated my work-out by moving to high cardio, less hard-core pumping. For the weight lifting portion I'm switching to the "Power of Ten" - ouch. Every repetition - 10 second counts. I never knew bi's/tri's could take so long. I had to drastically reduce my weight levels - but the overall affect should be increased strength and tone. I kinda don't want to shed all the weight - I must admit I do like the slight intimidation that size lends to a guy - now if I can just perfect a manly sneer.
BTW - I'm gonna hit 50,000 visitors by Sunday morning. Kinda cool I guess. Suppose the way things are right now I'll decline posting a nude pic with 50,000 written on the inside of my right thigh (johnson hangs out to the left)
Thursday, December 26, 2002
I let myself go.
Actually "I let myself go" is an understatement.
How 'bout - "Oh my god ! you fucking fat pig - what have you done with Kurt ??? You've eaten him haven't you ?? For Christ Sake - I think I can see him moving around in your belly - you devoured him like a Triscuit with cheese - didn't you ???"
It's the truth - and it's the ugly truth.
I haven't been a holiday person for years. Lucky is in New Jersey and I'm alone with my dysfunctional family unit - and around the holidays I have two favorite past times - Eating and Drinking. Normally there is some counterbalance where I work out every day without fail to keep the haunting pounds off for some huge New Years Eve Circuit Party in another city. This year though we're playing it mellow and staying home and somewhere back 3 and 1/2 weeks ago - I skipped the gym for one afternoon.
The only problem is I skipped it for the next 23 afternoons as well.
This is my longest absence from the gym since I was 20 and hospitalized with a doudenal ulcer.
Tanning, cutting my hair, the gym ...all those things fell by the wayside as I slipped in to a holiday coma. Restless, bitchy and depressed - I stopped posting much (it was so hard to find the time between NOT going to gym and constantly eating and drinking). So I'm at Tarbells for dinner with friends on Christmas Eve when D. reaches over and "pats" my belly. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I can point fingers.
My boss - the "King of the One Slice", never will you meet a man who brings in more pies or cakes with one slice taken out of it - "Please - take this home - enjoy it!".
My Mom - always sending me from her house with fresh-baked cookies.
My boyfriend - who could eat the entire Krispy Kreme franchise and still not gain a pound.
At one point after Thanksgiving - between my boyfriend, mother and boss - I had 5 different types of pies in my refrigerator. I would sit with the whole pie and a fork in my favorite chair watching television - eating an entire pumpkin pie.
My Dog - Baby - often turned away in disgust.
So in the end, others didn't make me eat. I was feeding depression, stress and anxiety - and were they ever hungry!
No supplements, no gym, no need to get sexy for a holiday party, no shirtless - dance all night circuit parties, no real desire to even do it just for myself - the sweaters and jackets were covering it all up, but man O' man were the jeans getting tighter.
Then yesterday - it all came crashing in. I excused myself from my parents table and the Christmas dinner of Prime Rib and went to use the boys room. It was a fleeting thought "Hey a scale - god, I haven't stepped on one in months...wonder what I weigh???".
I placed the right foot, then the left. The dial swung feverishly from the left, to the right, then back again.
My parents said the screams of terror shook the walls.
198.
Since my 33rd birthday in August I have gained 27lbs.
So I called the boyfriend today:
"Babe - help me... for the love of all that is unholy and made of sugar and carbs... carry an elephant tranquilizer and shoot to kill if you see me heading for a bag of Salsa Verde Doritos, knock me unconcious with a pine-tar free baseball bat if you catch me ordering a "Biggie - Sized" anything ('cept Eros Lube that is) and shoot me with a sawed off shock gun if you hear the word "gift basket" fall from my lips one more time"
So it ends. I just woofed down a biggie double-quarter pounder with cheese, biggie fries and a biggie Coke. Say goodbye to the fast food.
No booze for 30 days - even New Years Eve.
I just pulled on my gym clothes and am leaving work early to hit the gym.
And if I see a pie, even a slice - I will stomp on it til it resembles road kill on highway loop 101.
..wish me luck.
Actually "I let myself go" is an understatement.
How 'bout - "Oh my god ! you fucking fat pig - what have you done with Kurt ??? You've eaten him haven't you ?? For Christ Sake - I think I can see him moving around in your belly - you devoured him like a Triscuit with cheese - didn't you ???"
It's the truth - and it's the ugly truth.
I haven't been a holiday person for years. Lucky is in New Jersey and I'm alone with my dysfunctional family unit - and around the holidays I have two favorite past times - Eating and Drinking. Normally there is some counterbalance where I work out every day without fail to keep the haunting pounds off for some huge New Years Eve Circuit Party in another city. This year though we're playing it mellow and staying home and somewhere back 3 and 1/2 weeks ago - I skipped the gym for one afternoon.
The only problem is I skipped it for the next 23 afternoons as well.
This is my longest absence from the gym since I was 20 and hospitalized with a doudenal ulcer.
Tanning, cutting my hair, the gym ...all those things fell by the wayside as I slipped in to a holiday coma. Restless, bitchy and depressed - I stopped posting much (it was so hard to find the time between NOT going to gym and constantly eating and drinking). So I'm at Tarbells for dinner with friends on Christmas Eve when D. reaches over and "pats" my belly. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I can point fingers.
My boss - the "King of the One Slice", never will you meet a man who brings in more pies or cakes with one slice taken out of it - "Please - take this home - enjoy it!".
My Mom - always sending me from her house with fresh-baked cookies.
My boyfriend - who could eat the entire Krispy Kreme franchise and still not gain a pound.
At one point after Thanksgiving - between my boyfriend, mother and boss - I had 5 different types of pies in my refrigerator. I would sit with the whole pie and a fork in my favorite chair watching television - eating an entire pumpkin pie.
My Dog - Baby - often turned away in disgust.
So in the end, others didn't make me eat. I was feeding depression, stress and anxiety - and were they ever hungry!
No supplements, no gym, no need to get sexy for a holiday party, no shirtless - dance all night circuit parties, no real desire to even do it just for myself - the sweaters and jackets were covering it all up, but man O' man were the jeans getting tighter.
Then yesterday - it all came crashing in. I excused myself from my parents table and the Christmas dinner of Prime Rib and went to use the boys room. It was a fleeting thought "Hey a scale - god, I haven't stepped on one in months...wonder what I weigh???".
I placed the right foot, then the left. The dial swung feverishly from the left, to the right, then back again.
My parents said the screams of terror shook the walls.
198.
Since my 33rd birthday in August I have gained 27lbs.
So I called the boyfriend today:
"Babe - help me... for the love of all that is unholy and made of sugar and carbs... carry an elephant tranquilizer and shoot to kill if you see me heading for a bag of Salsa Verde Doritos, knock me unconcious with a pine-tar free baseball bat if you catch me ordering a "Biggie - Sized" anything ('cept Eros Lube that is) and shoot me with a sawed off shock gun if you hear the word "gift basket" fall from my lips one more time"
So it ends. I just woofed down a biggie double-quarter pounder with cheese, biggie fries and a biggie Coke. Say goodbye to the fast food.
No booze for 30 days - even New Years Eve.
I just pulled on my gym clothes and am leaving work early to hit the gym.
And if I see a pie, even a slice - I will stomp on it til it resembles road kill on highway loop 101.
..wish me luck.
Thursday, December 19, 2002
Wednesday, December 18, 2002
...are you tough ?
Could you take me in a fight ?
Are you FIRE or are you ICE ?
From where does "toughness come", or does it grow ?
Am I a Bully because I would pick on you first, or am I your Hero because I would defend you no matter what the risk ?
My mother is Irish, My father is Norwegian - Fire & Ice...I'm a mutt with a violent - hidden temper. I rage, I storm - yet I do it in private. I feel fury and rage - still I express it by silence. My cruelest moment is in the moment where I offer only a stare.
I will slug you - yet not utter a word - my passing breath, my single punch...whispering your name.
I'm a cock-sucking masochist, a little S.O.B. I am my fathers violent temper - hidden by his invisible pain. I am my mother's outrageous display of fire - viewable from near and far.
I can't decide if this means I can defend myself when needed or if I'll tear myself apart before they even have a chance.
Could you take me in a fight ?
Are you FIRE or are you ICE ?
From where does "toughness come", or does it grow ?
Am I a Bully because I would pick on you first, or am I your Hero because I would defend you no matter what the risk ?
My mother is Irish, My father is Norwegian - Fire & Ice...I'm a mutt with a violent - hidden temper. I rage, I storm - yet I do it in private. I feel fury and rage - still I express it by silence. My cruelest moment is in the moment where I offer only a stare.
I will slug you - yet not utter a word - my passing breath, my single punch...whispering your name.
I'm a cock-sucking masochist, a little S.O.B. I am my fathers violent temper - hidden by his invisible pain. I am my mother's outrageous display of fire - viewable from near and far.
I can't decide if this means I can defend myself when needed or if I'll tear myself apart before they even have a chance.
The Grind. No - not brought to you by DownTown Julie Brown (Wubba-Wubba) or Eric Neise (Man I wanted to nail that guy!) - but by my life.
In the final stretch (a couple of hours of reconcilling numbers to reality) before sending over the Q2 portfolio to the CPA. Ugh I'm wiped. I was at work til 9pm, then went home and wrapped Lucky's Xmas gifts (I'll take a picture - it's really embarrasing how much I get into "beautiful" wrapping - presentation is everything), then back to paperwork til 1am - up at 6am to reclean the house before the termite inspection. I can't wait til this choo-choo train slows down. I'm taking Xmas Eve and Xmas Day off - figure I'll finish painting the office.
Anyway - gotta jam, gonna be late for the prom - GREAT pate!
In the final stretch (a couple of hours of reconcilling numbers to reality) before sending over the Q2 portfolio to the CPA. Ugh I'm wiped. I was at work til 9pm, then went home and wrapped Lucky's Xmas gifts (I'll take a picture - it's really embarrasing how much I get into "beautiful" wrapping - presentation is everything), then back to paperwork til 1am - up at 6am to reclean the house before the termite inspection. I can't wait til this choo-choo train slows down. I'm taking Xmas Eve and Xmas Day off - figure I'll finish painting the office.
Anyway - gotta jam, gonna be late for the prom - GREAT pate!
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