Week 42

Soooo, there was a new Star Wars teaser trailer released this week. Not sure if you guys had heard.....

     

     Immediately I was zapped back to my childhood. In the summer of 1995, I was a 6 year old who's only concerns in the world were swimming pools and Power Rangers. And then one day, everything changed. My father called me into the back, sat me down and said, "Today, I'm going to show you the Star Wars." And my life was changed in every way.

     On day one we watched A New Hope. I can still remember seeing Luke Skywalker ignite his father's lightsaber for the first time. I couldn't think of anything else during the entire movie, and I nearly jumped for joy when Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader squared off on the Death Star. This was the greatest thing I'd ever seen. I didn't want it to end, which is why it felt like Christmas when my father told me there were 2 more films.

     I don't remember anything about the next day other than sitting in my fathers room, impatiently staring up at the screen as the THX logo faded in and out. Then it began. For the next 2 hours I sat wide-eyed in anticipation for the promised climax between Luke and Vader. And then it happened. It REALLY HAPPENED! Vader uttered those now infamous words causing my heart to drop and my soul howled out in tandem with Luke. How could this be? I MUST HAVE MORE!

     I'm not sure how I survived the wait to the next day. But somehow I did, and finally, it was time for my first journey through that far, far away galaxy to come to an end. And what an end it was. Han was back. The Empire was defeated. And best of all, GREEN LIGHTSABERS! Yes, it was a fitting end for a truly magical journey. The next day my father took me to Service Merchandise (does anyone else remember that store???) where I was pleased to find that they had shelves upon shelves of Star Wars products. And I loaded up. By the time we left, I had enough ships and figures to start my own Galactic Empire. And I had my very own lightsaber.

     It wasn't until years later that I realized just how much that summer meant to me. My dad and I kept up the tradition of watching each episode for the first time together. That is, until episode 3. Maybe that's why I didn't like episode 3. Although that probably has more to do with horrible acting and even worse writing, but the sentiment remains. Being introduced to the Star Wars saga changed something deep within me. I can't imagine who or, what I'd be had I never seen them. And I don't want to.

And now, just for fun, perhaps the greatest video to ever be uploaded to Youtube:

 

Week 41

Have you ever had something that you really needed to say, but had no idea how to go about doing it? Or had a conversation that went unfinished and just wanted to find some way to complete it? Just a thought...

     I'm fat. I'll give you a moment to recover from shock. 

Yes, I said it, I'm fat. According to my doctors, I've been overweight since 6th grade. According to my elementary school classmates, I've been fat since before Power Rangers was a thing.  It's not a secret, and anyone who knows me will know that I won't let too much time pass without bringing it up; I don't like the notion of ignoring my weight when I know that it's clearly a defining feature of who I am. But ever since moving here, to the vapid and shallow capitol of the world, my weight has become something else entirely.

     My weight has always been a challenge. Growing up big leads to you seeing the world quite differently from everyone else. I have to be aware of things that normal people never even dream of. And then there's my mind. My mind has been trained to be defensive. Constantly afraid of what people are thinking, or saying under their breath. Constantly believing that any laughter I hear nearby is about me. To be honest with you, it's exhausting. And it's only become worse since arriving here. Everyone and everything here is about body image. People aren't satisfied with themselves until they're skin and bones. Everyone loves to gossip about their new diets and cleanses. Damn near everyday during lunch I have to endure a conversation amongst perfectly in shape people about how fat they feel, or how they have to cut out carbs and gluten because it's making them hideous. All the while I just sit there wondering if any of them even realize that they're indirectly shaming me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking or expecting anyone to be ok with being fat; I know I'm not. But it just seems that no one here is capable of thinking about anyone outside of themselves. I guess to expect anything else would be naive.

     I don't know if love at first sight really exists. I doubt it. But I do know that lust at first sight exists. Every human being blessed with sight experiences it everyday. It's the foundation for our first impressions of others; we're a lot more open and friendly to those that are appealing to the eye. That being the case, I, and many others like me, have to work a lot harder to "earn" that openness and friendliness that the more conventionally attractive people are given from the start. This has always been the case with girls. I've never had a significant other that didn't start out as a friend first. I've always had to take the time to convince any girl that I was interested in that I was actually worth while. And even then most still couldn't get over the physical aspect. Whenever friends ask me about love life, I tell them that no girl out here could be interested in a guy that looks like me, and more often than not they can't bring themselves to disagree with me. Everyone knows. And it's the same way with my work. I typically work as a Production Assistant, which involves a decent amount of manual labor and a shit ton of hustle. Employers see me and naturally assuming I can't meet the physical requirements of the job. Granted no one has ever said this to my face, but it becomes pretty obvious when every one of my new employers is so "impressed" by how good I am at my job. No matter what, the first impression of me will always be that of a lazy, sloth, because lazy sloths tend to look like me, and as we all know, minorities are all representative of each other. And I'm tired. So tired that I've started to train myself not to want certain things. Not to be attracted to certain girls. Not to expect good things.

     And before you even come at me with some bullshit about "why don't you change things up and go on a diet if you don't like being overweight?", please know that I have, in fact, done that. Many times. Once I even hired a trainer and got in the best shape I had been in since before 3rd grade. But it never seems to stick. I thought that maybe coming out here might change something. Maybe I'd see all of the pretty people and be compelled to become one of them. I've tried a few times since relocating to get my weight in order, but thus far I've had no such luck.No matter what I do, my body always seems to hit a reset button and return me to the form which you see before you. Seems to me that, if you believe in destiny, that I am meant to look like this. For what reason, I couldn't tell you. All I know is that I hate the way I look, and the way I feel. I hate the way I see myself and how the rest of the world views me. And I hate that there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it. And for that reason I eat. And I drink. And I make myself fatter, because I can't make myself skinnier. Funny how that works, isn't it? Funny.

Week 40

  Legs are sore. Back hurts. Sleepy all the time. Yup, I'm back to work. And work is good. Work means timecards. Timecards mean paychecks. And paychecks mean I still have a place to live. So that's good. Is this where I want to be? No. Is this where I have to be? Not necessarily. But it's where I'm going to stay. For now at least. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what's next.