fatty. no good for you.

24Feb/125

“Blame, Deny, Betray, Divide….

...A lie, the truth, which one shall I use?" - The Afghan Whigs, "Blame, Etc."

On October 21, 1996, 6 days before my 17th birthday, I was run over by a truck.  According to the police report, it was 6:51 PM.  I was on my bike, trying to make a left turn to get myself to the motel I was staying at with a friend while we were trying to figure out an apartment situation.  I had 2 CDs with me - The Afghan Whigs, "Black Love" (from which the above quote was taken) and Iggy Pop's "The Idiot".  Music history buffs know the Iggy Pop album as the one on Ian Curtis' record player as he hanged himself.  I guess I'm lucky I only brought the CD version.

I had figured life out by the time I was 16, or so I believed.  I lived modestly, as I had little choice.  I was fiercely independent, renting my first apartment as soon as I had enough money for the expense.  I was focused, forcing myself to graduate high school a year early to hit the working world a year earlier.  I was in ridiculously good shape, biking 20-40 miles every day.

I lost it all in a matter of seconds.

While I wouldn't stay with my parents after the accident, I went to stay with a teacher who had heard about what happened to me.  She was an amazing teacher, probably the single biggest influence on my way into the world of employment.  She directed me into Future Business Leaders of America, where I found improbable success.  I stayed in a spare room, paid a token amount for rent and food, and tried to figure out my next moves.  She encouraged me to get my driver's license.  On my second try, I passed the exam, and started looking for full time work.  I was reluctantly assimilated, with the faith that I was doing what was best for myself.

I never felt like I was quite right for this world.   I had very few friends, and I mostly didn't like the ones I had.  Even the one I was staying with at the motel was a spoiled piece of garbage and his mother was footing the bill for his stay.  I never wanted to learn how to drive; cars were terrible, polluting monsters.  I was never concerned about money, just as long as I had enough.  Some days I wish the 16 year old version of myself would come over here and kick my ass, reminding me of who I really am.

Instead, I climbed "Honky's Ladder" (another Afghan Whigs reference, because I could) and got the car, the job, and a life that could be the envy of many.  I've never dealt well with this.  At first it was guilt: the thought that I had any entitlement to a good salary without a full education made no sense to me.  Then it was self-loathe: I found nothing I liked about the person I was anymore.

I was never a big consumer of alcohol until I had a fairly devastating relationship failure in 2005.  I've done an awesome variety of drugs, but alcohol was the one that allowed me to fully forget my life and loosen me up.  This week it reminded me that trying to escape my life through the abuse of alcohol just makes it worse, and puts unfair burdens on the people I care about and love.

I woke up Wednesday morning in a hospital with no idea how I got there.  My shirt no longer had buttons.  My keys were gone.  I had $10 left in my wallet.  I called a friend, who happened to be drunk herself at nearly 7AM, begging her to come get me.  When she wouldn't, I became verbally abusive and threatening.  I left another friend voice mails with an awkward combination of tears and whining.

I took a cab to my car, called roadside assistance, had the car towed to a dealership where they made a new key and alarm fob for me, and then took a long drive of shame home, knowing I could never do this again.

I'm sure I still had alcohol in me when I made an inflammatory public post extending a "fuck you for not caring about me"-type message.  If everyone cursed me out, or if there was no response, I surely would have deserved it.  Instead, people have reached out to me.  At some point, I've made friends, and I owe it to them and myself to get better.

I started this blog with self-improvement in mind.  This changes nothing.

Filed under: Alcohol, Life, Music 5 Comments
20Feb/121

Terry Bradshaw Sucks

I was too young to see Terry Bradshaw play, but he was the quarterback for the Steelers, identifies himself as Republican, and is widely speculated to take the short bus to all his  Fox Sports events.  I wouldn't trust him to sell me a handshake.

He's one of the spokespeople for Nutrisystem, a program I had considered at one time.  However, Nutrisystem allowed itself to become the missing link between the AXE effect and Dr. Pepper Ten in the irresponsible macho male marketing arena.  Key phrasing such as "Nutrisystem has created a weight loss meal plan specifically for men that includes the food men want such as burgers, pizza, pasta and chips."  Clearly, by not wanting burgers, I must not be a man.

Fuck you, Nutrisystem.

On both their website and commercials, they cite that Bradshaw has lost 32 lbs.  They don't say how much of it was diet vs. exercise, they don't provide a reference time frame, they just say he lost the weight.  That's a very weak sell for me.

So, why am I all bent out of shape over Nutrisystem, Terry Bradshaw, and the Steelers?

I am down 32 lbs. today, with a slight rounding up.  275.5 was today's weigh-in, meaning I'm down 31.7 lbs since that first August picture, or roughly 15 lbs. year to date, and we haven't even finished 2 months yet.

So, Terry Bradshaw, you may have lost 32 lbs., but you're still a swollen asshole of a man endorsing a shit product.  I lost 32 lbs. through a solid combination of diet and exercise, and I'm saving my bragging rights until my tale is told in full.

Filed under: Food, Humor, Weight Loss 1 Comment
19Feb/120

Epoch Fail

Often I think I was born too late.  This comes into play mostly when I look at my favorite musical artists and bands.  The Rolling Stones peaked in 1972.  The Velvet Underground broke up in 1973.  Punk effectively imploded in 1977.  Ian Curtis died months after I was born, in May of 1980.  The greatest post-punk records all came before 1986, when I was 7.

I rarely think I was born too early.  There was an age of consent joke that should have gone here, but in all honesty - there are very few women more than a few years younger than me who excite me.  It's always been that way.  The girl I've spent the better part of 15 months infatuated with confirmed to me she was just over a month my senior this week.

I'm mostly sure than had I been born about 1975, I'd probably have been one of those Internet success stories that would have made me a multimillionaire by now.  A little capital and a few people who believed in me when I was younger and MySpace could literally have been *MY* space.  Or I would have sold a variety of domain names for hundreds of thousands of dollars based on nonsense speculation.

It would have been terrible for me had I been that successful early.  With the limited success I had as a young adult, I made more than enough mistakes.

Filed under: Life Continue reading
17Feb/123

Progress worth sharing…

image

Filed under: Weight Loss 3 Comments
15Feb/121

Previously, on http://fatty.vuxe.com…

...it's been a little while since I posted.  I've been busy.

I met a good friend in Nashville a couple weekends back, and the week that followed was a time of rest and reflection.

This week, I started a new job.  But you're not here for that.

I'm now at the "30 pounds lost" mark, leaving 107 to go.  I am fitting into clothes most recently worn in 2009.

I'm also happy.  Well, happy-ish.  I'm not complacent or anything irresponsible like that.  I recognize I've made progress, and that I remain on track for success.  These are important things.

I'll be a bit more snarky again soon, but I wanted to make it clear I was still going to update this, even if it's been a while since I've posted a weigh-in.

Filed under: Weight Loss 1 Comment