Celebration of the 4th, er...1st

I am so not going to blog about Independence day.

Not the day, not the movie (which was awesome!), and not the Broadway play with Tyra Banks as John Adams. You spend tons of cash on exploding devices that last a millisecond. You have to watch the fact that at any time during this happy celebration, you might get your lips blown clean off by a "powder malfunction". And what real really pissed me off, was when you got that big ass box of JUMBO fireworks that cost the same as a Nintendo Wii, that advertised 35 "exciting fireworks!!!", 25 of them was two boxes of sparklers (one silver, one gold, both look the same), a package of ground snakes (i.e. slow ash piles), and the smoking cabin (same effect, and excitement, as burning a pencil.).

And how can I be all "weeee! we live in the land of the free!", when gas cost so much, it's now cheaper to buy a horse because, according to Google, hay is less per gallon. I miss having to think about, plan, take out a loan, on taking a spontaneous trip.

So instead I celebrated July 1st.

Now that is an important day! Why, you may ask? That was the momentous day that Dr. Henry Walton Jones Jr. was born in 1899. "Indiana" to his friends. And having enjoyed his latest Docu-drama May 25th, I think it was time to celebrate something with more substance. And to do that... I decided that I would eat nothing but Indiana Jones-branded foods all day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. There will be no time for love, Dr. Jones, because I have a digestive system I need to strain to its breaking point.

Yesterday, for breakfast, I started out with the official Indiana Jones cereal. Essentially the most bargain basement Cocoa Puffs (i hate Cocoa Puffs. This is for science though), the Indy cereal also had some of the vaguest cereal marshmallows I've ever seen:

That brown thing on the far left is, according to the box, "Indy's Hat." Next to it, a "Crystal Skull." So far, I can see it. No problem. But the next thing is NOT actually fossilized cheese but "The Temple of Akator." Yep, that bulbous hunk of maize is a "temple" allegedly made of gold. You might think the next one is "Temple of Akator Stuffed into Indy's Hat" or, as I hoped, "Blonde Russian," but it is, in fact, a "torch." So there you have it. Let's dig in.

And since there's no Indiana Jones 2% Milk of the Gods, I had to eat it dry.

Next up, I had Eggo Toaster Sticks branded with an Indiana Jones DVD giveaway offer.

Me? i'm wishing they also made an Indiana Jones Maple Syrup of Sargasso Sky Pirates, because these things were bland and dry. But at least I didn't feel like throwing up yet, so I count myself ahead. I already had the DVD, duh! Hell, I was Indiana Jones for Halloween as a child, and my grandfather gave me his real hat and whip! Vintage! Not those Don Post boxed costumes you find at Fred Meyers or Ralph's, with a plastic face mask and a mosaic of Dr. Jones adventures on the satiny cloth. I stopped short of the fake beard, because I knew I'd just look homeless, or a psychopathic Emmett Kelly hobo that you'd find ranting behind a liquor store threatening people with a broken car antenna. But I digress...

For lunch, I splurged on some Indiana Jones-branded Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its and a Dr. Pepper in a limited edition Indy can. If a taste combination could ever be named "Middle America," (or "Diabetic Coma"). it's this. As comforting as a hug from an obese aunt.

Oh, and I'm not a Pepper at all. Taste like liquorice cough syrup. Maybe I should have used that on the cereal or waffles. Be seeing that it's "Dr." pepper, I assume the medical credetals are valid. Should have called it Dr. Peppianda Jones soda...

Around mid-afternoon, I indulged in some special edition Indiana Jones mint M&Ms and a Snickers "Adventure Bar." The M&Ms are a superb palette-cleanser, but they're essentially mint M&Ms. Nothing to write a blog about (eh...ooops...). However, this isn't your average Snickers, despite the presence of chocolate, caramel, nougat, and nuts. I let it roll around the tongue and I detect hints of coconut and spice. Well played, Snickers. And right on cue, I was a little ill at this point.

Just in time for dinner, when the culinary equivalent of the Raiders of the Lost Ark boulder headed right for my colon. The Burger King Indy Whopper—Two beef patties, tomatoes, onions, pepper jack cheese (obviously, nothing says "globe-trotting archaeologist like the Jack!), and not one, but TWO kinds of mayo: Regular and "cajun." I don't know if Indy's ever been to New Orleans and neither does Burger King, but do you see me giving a shit? I wanted the toys!

It went down smooth, like trying to stuff a wet chihuahua into a garden hose. My heart hurts. If Mola Ram could reach in and tear it out, I think it'd save both of us years of headache.

After a few more mint M&Ms and a Temple Of Doom Mine Cart-esque bathroom experience, I put an end to my Indiana Jones eating adventure!!!

Yeah, it seems stupid, but what do you think the real Indiana Jones was doing at the same time?

...being as dorky as me! Harrison, you big geek! Even got the Taters of the Lost Spud!!

Happy July 1st everyone!

ReBoot. Defragging a life

Everything is so fragile.

There is so much pain and conflict, so much pain... You keep waiting for the dust to settle and then you realize, this is it: the dust is your life going on.

If happy comes along, that weird unbearable delight that's actually happy, I think you have to grab it while you can.

You take what you can get, cause it's here, and then...

gone

___________

And with that, everything just makes so much more sense. ..

hello again.

It's been almost exactly half a year on my self imposed removal from the internet. Why, you may ask. Simple: to live life. To become who I wish to be without someone else dictating the limitations. For me to be happy without the need of outside life support. A good friend told me, before you can find happiness in anything, you have to be happy within yourself. Earlier, she wrestled an overflowing toilet for 2 hours, because she didn't realize there was a shut off valve. So from the mouth of naivety comes pearls of wisdom, too special to be just merely chance.

There have been so much I was afraid of in life. And I was so surprised on what most of it was: failure. As simple as that! I didn't want to try anything for fear of failing. It seems so much easier to never know that pain, then to revel in the chance you might be right.

To be honest, I also thought I had no more to say...

And, it hit me one day; Why not? Suck down the fear, and just do it (don't sue me Nike...). I spend so much time with the perception of what can go wrong, nothing of course will ever go right! So, I just...do things now.

One of the big ones, I'm dating and meeting people. MY own people! Not "friends" from other friends, but people who choose to talk to me. And, damn, that was a big nut to crack! I am a mass of eccentricities, and waffles.

I'll go in everything in more deeper details later. But, I wanted to start this again, and shitcakes! Here's how it starts! I also find that life gives us so much each day to write about, and I'm not done yet, afterall

And that quote above that was so moving? It was from an X-Men comic book. Don't scoff! You liked it too! Don't be an ass and fight the fact that comics can be written well! Embrace it!
And we'll get along just grand.

See you soon, space cowboy...

The Weighty Issue

'Kay, there's his guy at my work that thinks everything he says or does is funny. Most annoying thing is the "funny voices" he thinks he masters. All it makes me do is get a mild migraine and cause me to attempt to pinch my eyes together.

Anyway, someone somewhere happens to say, "hey, hey hey". And it's like a Pavlov's dog trigger. Out comes this horrendous Fat Albert imitation.

A gravelly horse voice says, "hey, hey, hey! Fat Albert is here to save the day!"

And like magic, I burst a blood vessel.

Lets leave alone the fact that that was the worst imitation of any cartoon character from the 70's ever attempted. I just wondering how a 400 pound morbidly obese 14 year old is going to save the day. I can probably speculate one thing he never saves: leftovers. And I would also suggest a throat doctor. No one the south side of puberty should have a voice like a chronic smoking grandma.

Hang on, I'm getting off topic. What I really waned to talk about was my weight loss.

Whatta pain in the ass. It's almost easier, and so much cheaper, to be fat!

Painting a picture. Ever since high school, I was overweight. I could eat a whole large pizza and a half and still eat more. I think I topped at 245. My total record was 265 pounds...and that was two years ago. I used to have to have pants cuffed, because they didn't have size 42 pants with a 30 inseam. Used to have to shop in the "huskies" section of Sears. (At least Sears was kind enough to perpetuate my comfort level of my dimensions my making the chubby clothes have such a rugged name!)

As of today, I'm 175 pounds and 18% body fat.

Honestly, how did THAT happen?!

Fad diets? Special foods? Exercise vids? weight loss pills? Nope, none of those.

I went to a gym, ate only when I was hungry, and had diabetes. Thats is it. I lost 60 pounds, lowered my blood pressure, and almost eliminated my diabetes in three months eating corndogs and diet coke. I ate ice cream, pizza, you name it. And I am now at my target weight.

And it sucks!

Do you know how much it cost more to eat healthy? Buying smaller portions of food instead of bulk rate? I had to buy new pants every two weeks, and now I have to by smaller form fitting shirts. I'm also cold more often that I used to be. I feel like a shivering chiwawa when theres a breeze. Being healthy is costing me a fortune.

And it takes forever to shop for food. I now read all the labels. Sodium content. Sugar content. And theres good AND bad cholesterol. I'm in the middle of a cholesterol war and I don't even know how it started! Can't we all just shake hands and slowly clot my arteries as friends?

Right now I'm looking at a drawer of oversize clothes I can't wear anymore, unless I want to follow my dream of being a white gangsta rapper. All I can save are the socks, and thats not fair. I think if the government wants America to not be an overweight nation, they should at least buy you new clothes when you reach your target weight. I shouldn't have to borrow a shirt from a girl if i want to go out and not look like I spontaneously deflated.

Maybe I'll go out right now and get a pie. Either that or drill a new hole on my belt to keep my pants up.

The Things We've Left Behind

Well, it's a new year, I haven't written anything in a while, and it's once again time to remunerate, reflect, and actually see whats been going on in the new year...and the fall out of last.

I guess the biggest thing to start out with is that right now...i'm actually happy. And no, not selfish happy, smug happy, had a good poop happy, or artificial happy. I'm genuinly in a place that I never thought i'd be in right now, and it's pure.

Am I rich? no. But I've made a huge leap into seeing whats really important to me. Am I successful? No. But I can see a pathway I'd like to explore. Am I in love? That's an easy one: Yeah. And this time, I can see what was all the downfalls from before, and it seems so simple right now.

I had a wonderful Christmas and I spent it with my best friends. I had quite a time getting presents to all of them, since my previous work sent my checks to the wrong house and refused to fix it until the new year. But I loved the spirit of giving, and braved to angry shoppers to get what I thought, was perfect gifts for all of them. Even though they themselves said I didn't have to buy them anything. Come'on. When you have people as good as that, that are as close as family, you NEED to get them something!

And I love seeing reactions from people. I'm a born people watcher. I sometimes sit in a mall with Christine and watch couples, trying to see if I can tell who they are by the little clues people subconsciously give off. I think I'm unusually accurate, actually.

My mom told me once I was too insensitive. I think that if you you know me, You'd know what a huge joke that is. I am so hypersensitive, I can tell if someone is depressed from across the street. I need to relax more, I think.

Anyway, it's been quite a year: I lost a good friend that I thought I'd have for the rest of my life. I lost a long relationship. I lost my home and job. I lost my way.

And now that you've read that, you can now delete it. Because that isn't at all important. And that's what I've gained.

My lost friend? She is in crisis mode and I'll be here for her when she needs me, however long it takes. That's what me being a friend is about, and that's more than okay. Lost relationship? It was very unhealthy and in months I have so grown into a very strong person and fantastic individual. I feel like I've been reborn. And I've found someone who not only cares about me, but respects exactly who I am and doesn't take me for granted.

More importantly: I make her as happy as she does me. What else can anyone ever hope for in life?

Job? Home? Possessions? Phfft!!!!

I have a job now that I Like, (and isn't retail). I have a place to call home, in fact I have two. (I don't even watch TV anymore because my life is just to interesting now). And I've learned you can take everything away from me, and I've really lost nothing at all.

And, I've found my faith in myself. Now that is a great gift I didn't expect, and I actually gave that to me. A second good gift would be a Wii, so if anyone needs to feel as good as I do, feel free to indulge in that!

So I've left a lot of things behind, and it made room for the good stuff.

SushiPhobic

There are some amazing things out there that brightens the human spirit and ignores the fears of mankind's eventual evolution into beings of great worth...


I just didn't know that eating raw fish and seaweed compressed into rice balls was the arena in which we would prove ourselves. Yes, people, I actually ate sushi. I ate things normally picked out of ones swimsuits butt at the beach.


Christine always promised, nay, crusaded, that I must experience going to a sushi bar and enjoying the experience that is, sushi. I never had a reason to try anything that exotic before, and when I've been with her in the past, I'd be a big puss and eat such Japanese traditional favorites such as pumpkin pie and watermelon. That's the equivalent of going to a fine french cuisine and asking for the A1 sauce and a plate of frank n' beans. Godammn ugly American!

But This time, I promised her, promised, that I will actually eat sushi. With all the crap that's been happening to me, I thought it was way way too silly to fear these colorful flavor packets. I this was going to be the beginning of a crusade to abolish stupid fears and annoyances.

I had heard about the dollar a plate sushi night on Halloween at work. And this was right after I had walked into a cloud of flatulence that my co-worker, Stewart had thought he had stealthily released into the workspace. Not so ninja, and when I hit it, I reared up like a horse that was spooked by a snake.

But I digress. For those of you that has never walked into a Sushi Bar, it goes like this: It's a small small area with stools near this countertop with a conveyor belt of sorts, separating you from some surly guys making these artistic dishes. The conveyor belt rotates around the bar caring various plates of comestibles. The color of the plate determines how much the item will cost. When you're full, or sick, you motion an asian lady over who will count up your plates and give you a check.

You also have to master the chopsticks. Even though forks also rotate once in a blue moon, I hear if you grab one, a Ronin will jump out from behind a curtain you thought was the bathrooms, and disembowel you to the cheers of the customers. May not be true, but just try the chopsticks in case.

But jeez, a dollar a plate is a great deal. So much so, when Letty, Christine, Nikki, Greg, Jordan, and I, arrived, we had to wait standing about for over an hour. If you know Christine like I do, You never never never ever, evernever, deny her food when she's hungry. If she were a raccoon in a bear trap, she'd gnaw off her own leg for some sushi. She was about to start screaming at customers that they are already fat bitches and need to vacate, when we were mercifully sat down.

I sat between Nikki and Christine. I was told Nikki is the expert, and would treat my virgin palate like a gentle lover. Well, I was sort of told that.

And she did. She's gesture at a sushi roll and say things like, "you can start with that." or "that's fish, you wont want to do that yet". Christine took brilliant care of me and told me to just trust her, open my mouth, and eat...this. Don't nibble, just eat, chew, and swallow. Don't try to identify, or comprehend, just enjoy. Without hesitation, I took the roll and ate it.

And, it wasn't bad at all.

In fact, it was interesting to taste the textures and not know exactly what I was eating. I've never ate anything before without knowing what it would probably taste like. I ate this without any preconception. And it was quite liberating!

I tried another. And a spicier one! And a bolder one! And something that looked like old fried popcorn chicken ruminates. As it turned out, it was calamari...A squidy thingy. I ate fish! That is truly one of the sighs of End of Days!

As I ate it, all I thought was poor Admiral Akbar on the rebel star cruiser screaming, "It's a trap!!!", as Darth Vader breaded and deep fried his sorry ass. I was having culinary fun!

I use to be SushiPhobic, But I so enjoyed the experience with my friends, that I suggested that we so needed to do this again. Even Christine was proud of me, as I was.

So kids, let that be a lesson for all of you. Never walk by a gassy co-worker with your mouth open, and fear of the unknown isn't a real fear at all.

Happy Halloween folks, and try the Akbar, he's delicious.