Joey G's Especially Large Adventure

Flashypants!

2011-09-18T23:03:00.000-04:00

This is a pic taken from my latest project: Flashypants (as played by Todd Morgan). I've written a couple of short scripts (sketches, really), and helped come up with the concept for the first movie, now playing on the YouTubes (if you wanna see it, click either link above).

The projects are for an event called Dancing With The High Country Stars, which raises money for local charities around the Boone and Blowing Rock area. Should be a blast!

I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change

2011-09-02T10:08:00.000-04:00

This weekend only at the Hayes Performing Arts Center in Blowing Rock, NC. More info HERE!

Help Yourself to Some Self-Help

2011-07-31T03:36:00.001-04:00

I've never been much for self-help books, or the people that read them incessantly. What a waste of time and money! But then, over the last few years, I became one of those people. Now here I sit, combing the internet day after day for the latest weight-loss tome. You know the ones I'm talking about: "You're Fat and Everybody Hates You, Now Change". "Hug Your Weight Away". "A Porker's Guide to Pill Popping". "Jonah's Seafood Diet, Or 'How I Conquered The Whale in Me'". I have been searching for an easy answer to my age-old question: How did I get this big, and how do I get smaller? I've spent so many dollars trying to find this answer in this psychiatrist's book, or that random doctor's book. Guess what? The answer doesn't lie in any book. Know why? Because the answer lies in a mere a sentence. Not even a whole sentence, but a fragment of a sentence.

Exercise more, eat less.

Doesn't get much easier than that, does it? "Exercise more, eat less." So simple, yet so complicated. Why complicated? Because of The Demon.

In my early blog entries (I think, anyway...it's been so long since I read those early entries), I wrote about the demon, or monster, that lives inside my head. The one that says "Go ahead, Joey. Stop at Taco Bell. Burrito Supremes are only 99 cents this month, and they are oh-so-tasty. And they're good for you, too. Sour cream? DAIRY! Flat, steamy iceberg lettuce? VEGETABLE! And the not-quite-red-ripe tomatoes? FRUIT! Add in the zesty half-beef / half-possum "meat" concoction, and you've almost got yourself a food pyramid of Pharaonic proportions, wrapped up in a low-fat flour tortilla! Go ahead, get three of them. You deserve to be healthy, don't you?" That demon wants me dead, and won't rest until I'm six feet underground. Or scattered ashes along the Outer Banks. Or burning bright on a funeral pyre, my sword and shield at my side, while naked pagan girls dance around giving thanks to The Goddess for whatever the hell they usually thank Her for. That last one sounds kinda awesome, actually...

Lookit, I know how I got this large. I ate too much. I didn't exercise enough. Duh. And I know how to thin out. Eat less. Exercise more. Double Duh. But what I don't know is how to control my food demon. Some psychiatrist would tell me to look in the mirror, give myself a great big hug, and say "I love you, Joey". Give me a break. A doctor would call me "Sir Fats-a-Lot" and try to sign me up for gastric bypass surgery. A preacher would say "Turn to God in prayer, my son" as he passed me a collection plate. The truth is, all of these choices have some validity. They have all helped one person or another get through some tough times, when their demon (alcohol, drugs, or in my case, food) came a-callin'. But none of these choices have worked for me.

Why is that?

Because I am one hard-headed motherf*cker, that's why. I haven't given any of these "answers" a fair shake. I feel stupid looking in the mirror and saying "I Love You" to a reflection. I'm scared of being told "You'll never eat Indian food again" right before I'm cut open like a piggie at a Farm Life hog killing and getting 3/4 of my stomach stitched up, never to be heard from again. And at times I'm too cynical to believe that a God who allows such misery in His world would give two shits about my demon plight. But if I keep shunning the many answers to my problems, how on Earth do I expect my situation to change? It won't. It hasn't. And things are going to stay stagnant until I change my attitude. Because in the end, the only way I'll survive my demon attacks is by changing my attitude towards myself, towards the food I eat, and towards the learned healers of the Body (Take your vitamins), Mind (Get all lovey-dovey with your reflection) and Spirit (Say your prayers). Before a change can happen, I've got to believe a change is possible. Otherwise, Change is impossible.

So where does that leave me? With a bookshelf full of ~~paperweights~~, er, I mean self-help books. But I'm also left with a new outlook. In the morning, as I stand over my sink and wash my face (and whatever other body parts I manage to find), I'm going to look in the mirror and say something along the lines of "I love you, Joey. You're not such a bad guy after all. You are definitely worth taking care of." I'm also going to Church for the first time in many, many years, where I will pray with as much sincerity as I can muster: "God, I don't understand you at all. But I believe in you. Please save me from the demon inside me." And I'm going to continue to pray throughout the day, every time the demon rears his ugly rear and farts in my face (which he does with alarming regularity). Finally, I'm going to drink my shakes, and take my vitamins. AND I'm going to the gym and swim for an hour. I'll be in full prayer mode as I drive to the gym and back again, because that's when the demon becomes belligerent, attacking me at every stop light. "LOOK! A Burger King. LOOK! Taco Bell! OOOOOooooo...pizza! Couldn't we stop, just this one last time?"

Have I mentioned that my Demon is an asshole?

This isn't the first time I've stood here (OK...sat here) and written great prophecies of what would come to pass. I have written many lies that started out as The Truth. This may turn out the same way. But right now I've got great intentions. Tomorrow's going to be a very good day, I can't wait to wake up and carpe diem. But before I wake up, I'll need to fall to sleep first, right? But I'm not tired. What should I do? I KNOW! I'll read a book. Oh man...where the hell did I put all those self-help books? Just when I could actually use one of them, too...

How to Lose Weight and Influence People

2011-07-05T00:01:00.002-04:00

A few people have asked me how I've lost my 32 (and counting) pounds. I wrote this e-mail to a friend today, and I think it sums everything up nicely:

"This Battle of the Bulge is an eternal struggle, ain't it? Mindset is the most important thing, as you already know. If I didn't have my mindset right, I would be failing miserably. Not that I haven't had days of failure. But I've only had one major setback in three weeks, and that's saying something (It's all Burger King's fault!).

The second most important aspect of my present diet is family/friend support. My mom and my sister are dieting with me. My mom's lost 15 pounds! This is my 4th week, and I've lost 32 pounds so far. So I'm very happy, but not cocky. Because I know how easy it is to slip-slide back into the drive-thru line at Taco Bell.

To aid in my quest to see my rib cage at least once before I die, I am doing nutritional shakes - two a day - from this company called Body By Vi. My cousin Cheryl got me hooked on them, and I am very thankful. The shakes are fairly tasty and are filling, so they usually keep me from overeating. They don't deal with the psychological b.s., of course. I still want to eat an entire cow, rolled in flower and deep fried in pig fat. With a side of mayonnaise. But the shakes help me focus on my goal: to get healthy. They are not a 'magic bullet', but they are helping me tremendously.

The shakes can be mixed with milk, orange juice, all different kinds of ingredients (no, 'butter and cheese' are NOT acceptable ingredients). Two shakes a day, and one 'sensible' meal. The 'sensible meal' can make or break you. At least I think so. One bad choice can lead to the Taco Bell backslide mentioned above. Because I'm a bit on the obsessive side, I have become recipe crazy (hence my over-sharing 'broccoli salad' FB entry from earlier today). BUT that's a good thing, because I'm thinking of recipes I can make [and] eat, but are good for me (for the most part). Tomorrow I'm making my own personal pizzas, under 400 [calories] each. I'll have two, plus my two shakes, and that'll be my day, food-wise."

So, there you have it. Mindset + Loved Ones' Support + Nutritional Shakes + Sensible Meal(s) = Weight Loss. Wow, it's like MAGIC! And you're right, I haven't mentioned exercise. That's an adventure best saved for a different entry.

If you want to try the shakes, you can order them through my website (I don't really like the website, but I don't know of another way to order the product). I am NOT trying to sell these things to you, a-la-Amway. I do not make any money if you sign up, and I don't care all that much about getting my product for free. I'm just sharing what's worked for me, and the shakes have definitely been a positive factor here recently.

Thanks everyone for your continued love and support. If you'd like more info, feel free to leave a comment/question, Facebook me or email me.

Pity Party, Party of One

2011-02-06T13:00:00.000-05:00

Unless your name is Charlie Sheen, a drug user does not move out of an opium den and check into rehab, just to check out 30 days later and move into a crackhouse. Right? And yet, that's what I feel like I've done. I moved away from my home in Charlotte, where I was ordering take out almost every night, paying for it with money I didn't really have, until I could barely move anymore. Then I lost my job, my house and my mind (not necessarily in that order), and by the end of June I had no place left to go except back home to Farm Life. Like it or not, home is where my faulty food foundation was built. I was taught that Food would always be there waiting for you, even when friends were unavailable. And unlike family, Food would not judge you or constantly point out your faults. Right or wrong, this was the mindset I learned. Picked on at school? Here, have a cookie. Didn't do well on a test? McDonald's is just around the corner with a quarter pound of Love (with cheese). She told you she wanted to "just be friends"? Mmmmm...red velvet cake. I learned to substitute food for self esteem.

For those of you just tuning in, this is NOT GOOD!

How exactly do YOU cope with Life? Seriously, I want to know. Personally, I cope with food. WHY do I constantly think about food? For the same reason I stay logged into this computer. The same reason the TV is always on at the house. The same reason the radio is always on in the car. I don't want any kind of quiet time, because that's when I start thinking and reflecting. About past mistakes, bad calls, terrible judgement. About relationships (romantic and otherwise) gone south, gone for good. About work-related opportunities come and gone. Why the hell would I want to think about these things? Seriously, why?

I want to disconnect from this world I've created. I want the people I've met to all go away. I want a re-do. I want to go back in time to my 18th birthday, when there were decisions to be made, plans to hatch. I want to go to a different college, I want to study different subjects, I want to fall in love with different women, I want to move to NYC and work my way up to head writer on SNL, I want a wife, I want kids, I want my sister back, I want my fucking KNEES back, I want I want I want. So fucking SELFISH! None of these things are ever going to happen, we get one life and one life only, and I have squandered mine. YES I AM HAVING A PITY PARTY, COME JOIN ME, WON'T YOU?

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

OK. Pity Party over. I am back. Back home, back in Reality.

Here is Reality: I am 500+ pounds. I can't walk without the aid of a walker. I sometimes piss myself. I have not taken a shower in a long, long time which, coupled with the previous sentence, makes for a various array of wondrous aromas. My father sleeps all day, and cries out unintelligibly most of the night. That is, when he's not coughing - trying desperately not to drown in his own saliva, mucus, whatever. My mother is either taking care of her grandchildren (which is her greatest joy), or my father, or my grandmother, or...me. She is my greatest fan and greatest foe (food-wise), and I feel guilty for needing her at this stage in my life (and hers). My sister is dead, and has been for over seven years, and it seems as if everyone has moved on but me. I have had squandered every major job opportunity that has come my way, to the point where I am all-but-unemployable. That doesn't really matter though, because I can't work anyway: I can only walk a few steps at a time, I can't lift anything other than my fat ass, I can only stand for a minute at a time, and I can only sit for an hour or so before the pain in my knees becomes excruciating and I have to LAY down like an invalid. I hate being in this house, but I hate being out in the world even more. This is Reality.

But you know what? So is this: I am Loved. In spite of all of the above, I am Loved. My mother let's me live here at home until I get back on my feet, both figuratively and literally. My sister invites me over to her home once a week so I can get a little more human interaction, and so I can play with my beautiful niece and nephew (not to mention "Wheel of Fortune" on Wii!). I have friends that check on me via Facebook, this blog, phone, and even in person. I can walk, even if it's in a limited capacity. I can still laugh, and I can still make others laugh. I can play my guitar and sing almost any song I can think of. And most importantly, I'm writing again. Even if it's only a blog.

I am not alone. There are others out there struggling to make sense of their life. Some are large and no-longer-in-charge, just like me. Others are lost for so many different reasons. My Reality isn't what it could be, or should be. But my Reality ain't all that bad, either. I am still Blessed. I pray this will be my last Pity Party for awhile. Blogging it out sure does feel a whole lot better than stuffing my face. Although now that I think about it, it sure would be nice to stuff my face.

DAMNIT! Will the madness ever end?

Laughter and Lunch

2011-02-03T11:10:00.003-05:00

Before I even begin, let me go ahead and apologize for all the links. I can't help it, there's just so much fair - to - middling material out there on the internets, and I want to share it all with YOU!

Stephen Colbert is my favorite political pundit. In fact, I’m starting to find that my most trusted news source (aside from NPR) is Comedy Central’s one-two punch of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. On a nightly basis, Colbert and his bff Jon Stewart reveal both the hilarities (Oh yes I DID just made up a word!) and the hypocrisies (usually at the same time) of our country’s government, corporations and especially our news media. I’m not saying The Daily Show and The Report should replace actual news, but since it’s so hard to FIND actual news on tv these days (I’m not naming names…CNN, MSNBC and FOX NEWS), they’ll do until I can listen to All Things Considered during my afternoon drive...not that I'm driving much these days.

The Rev. Sir Dr. Stephen T. Colbert, D.F.A. (the character portrayed by Colbert on TCR) expertly mimics the babbling boobs that flood our airwaves and inundate our brains with vitriol, half-truths and full-on lies (again, not naming any names here...anyone receiving a paycheck from Fox News). But Colbert doesn't just give us his take on the nightly news. He also sets his satiric sites on medicine, technology, sports, even kids' issues. My favorite segments are the food segments (what a surprise!) entitled Thought for Food. I recently shared a link to his piece on the Taco Bell "Where's the Beef" lawsuit.

And the food thoughts just keep a-coming - Stephen's latest Thought for Food

Don't like that one? Here are a few more to choose from - Choose another Thought for Food segment

Why highlight these on my blog? Because our food industry is killing you, me, us, them, everyone we know. If we're not going to do anything about it, let's at least laugh about it. Turns out the truth hurts, but it's also kinda funny, too. If you want a few more fun food facts (minus the fun), feel free to watch the laugh-track-free documentary FOOD, INC (it's still streaming via Netflix, if you have a subscription). It didn't turn me into a vegetarian, but it came pretty damn close.

OK, it's kinda obvious that I've been putting off the inevitable personal update, so here it goes.

If you read my last post, you know that I was planning a trip to Raleigh to visit my cousin and to see a couple of movies. My goal was to go the whole trip without stopping at one fast food restaurant. I'm happy to report that I did indeed achieve that goal. However, I'm sad to report that instead of stopping at ONE fast food restaurant, I stopped at TWO! Looking at all of that nutritional info is very depressing. Fast Food restaurants should be required to print out and hand over nutritional data to a customer, all based on whatever the customer has just ordered. The customer then signs a waiver stating that:

S/he has read all of the nutritional info.
S/he will in no way hold the restaurant responsible for their weight problem, diabetes, high blood pressure, and/or untimely death.
S/he doesn't mind dying all for the want of a cheeseburger.

I'm not saying this would work. But it's worth considering. Now that I've read that info, I'm gonna think twice before I head out to the Sonic Drive-In (but damn-it-to-hell, they have TOTS!).

Today is going to be a better day. I had blueberry yogurt for breakfast, and am now contemplating lunch. Probably gonna be a ham and or turkey sandwich on wheat bread. We'll see. So long as it's not another cheeseburger. I think I could go the rest of my life without eating another cheeseburger. Or at least until Friday.

I think it's time to visit SparkPeople for a Meal Plan.

Discoveries, Goals and a Word of Thanks

2011-02-01T11:58:00.002-05:00

Since giving the ol' blog a kick-start last week, so many friends have sent messages and left comments offering me words of advice and encouragement. I want you all to know that it's very much appreciated. I remind myself that I started this blog for myself. I want to write about my weight issues, and i want to be held accountable for my actions. I told myself that it doesn't matter if the world can't/won't/doesn't really want to read along. But you know what? It does matter. I want people to read along. I want people to read it, to laugh at it and maybe even learn from it. That's why I am grateful to those of you who take five minutes out of your day to check up on me by reading these latest entries. Thanks also for leaving your comments. Your time, effort and words of comfort mean so much to me. Thank you.

My good friend Hallie turned me on to an excellent weight loss blog: www.whoatemyblog.com. It's the very personal story of Stephen Vinson, a 30-ish guy who was over 100 pounds bigger than me when he started his journey (I've found that most big'ns - myself included - LOVE to view their weight loss as a "journey", as well we should). He's tackling his weight issues (and all of the other issues that accompany obesity - depression, high blood pressure, aching joints, etc.) in the nick of time, before everything starts to give out on him, health-wise. Too bad I didn't have the balls to do the same thing when I was his age. But hey, better late than never, right?

I find I use a lot of (parenthesis) and ...ellipses..., usually for no good reason. And now that I've pointed this out, you'll notice their (over)usage from here on out, and it is gonna bug the ever-lovin' HELL out of you. Oh, and I also use ALL CAPS to add EMPHASIS to certain WORDS! I've got writing crutches, and that ain't no lie... (SEE WHAT I MEAN?!)

My fernday Nancy sent me a couple of links to the A&E show HEAVY (remember when A&E used to stand for Arts and Entertainment, neither of which appear on the channel with any regularity anymore). I don't usually go in for weight loss shows - to this day, I've never watched a single episode of THE BIGGEST LOSER - but I decided to give this one a shot. I must say it was pretty good, and I was somewhat inspired by the stories being told. But maybe because I'm an addict at heart, it just left me wanting more. One of the problems is they try to tell two weight loss stories in 44 minutes, and I don't think that does either story justice. I wish they'd concentrated on just one person, or expanded the episode to an hour and a half, or something. But of course in this world of short attention spans, that ain't gonna happen. I'm going to give HEAVY another shot, I think it has potential.

The coolest thing about all of these weight-loss blogs/shows/etc. is the realization that my story isn't just "My Story". There are countless "My Story"s that need to be told. You may say "Well, DUH! We're living in the fattest nation on the planet. Of course there are others!" True. But because I'm living this isolated life, I often feel like I am the fattest person living in the fattest nation on the planet. Know what that feels like? Like SHIT, that's what. But I know I'm not alone. There's a whole mess of us out there. But many of us choose to live our lives in solitary confinement, mainly due to shame. But that's an entry for another day.

Finally, my sister Candi offers encouragement via example. Read her blog (and read it often) to find out more. My life would be all-but-pointless without Candi and her family. My Facebook Friends already know how much I love-love-LOVE my niece and nephew. But I don't think I've given Candi the props she deserves. Besides my mother, she is the most special woman in my life, bar none. And without her love and support, I wouldn't be here right now, I guarantee. I love you, my sweet sister. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand now I'm crying.

OK, back to the task at hand: Goals. Tonight is a last hurrah of sorts. On Tuesdays, my favorite restaurant (Boss Hog's in Washington NC...never was there a more aptly-named restaurant) has MEATLOAF! And mac 'n' cheese. Yum. So tonight, I'm gonna have my last slab of meatloaf for a loooooooong time. Saying "no" to the other stuff is gonna be easy compared to this.

Next hurdle is coming up on Wednesday. I'm heading up to Raleigh to visit my cousin to see a movie or two. Normally when I travel, I eat like a mo-fo (I won't tell you what I scarfed down last Wednesday night after a movie double feature, for fear of intense judgement and digestive retribution). Besides my own personal weakness, the biggest blame goes out to the almighty Fast Food Drive-Thru Window. A drive-thru is a fat cripple's best friend at first, and worst nightmare in the long run. I'd LOVE to meet the bastard that created the first drive-thru window. I'd shake his hand, and then proceed to kick him in the nuts. My goal for Wednesday is to drive to Raleigh and back without stopping at any number of fast food joints, even though I know that somewhere along Hwy 64 East, there will be at least two McGriddle sandwiches calling out to me in the sweetest, syrupiest of tones. I will do my very best to ignore their call. I realize this may sound easy to some of you, but believe me it's NOT. It is Hard Work. And I usually HATE Hard Work. But you know what? I don't have to think about all of that right now. In fact, I'm not going to worry it at all, today. I'll think about it tomorrow. Yes, that's what I'm gonna do! After all, tomorrow is another day...

Wow, two GONE WITH THE WIND references in two days. I think I deserve a medal or something.

Countdown to D-Day

2011-01-31T10:26:00.002-05:00

Here I sit, waiting for all of my new purchases (listed in the previous post) to be delivered. And I dread their arrival like I dread seeing my first "Palin 2012" campaign sign. OK, I don't dread the equipment's arrival quite THAT badly, but still...

I know that once all my stuff arrives, it's time to get serious. But why not get serious NOW, you ask? Why wait for the equipment to arrive? Because that's what I do. I wait. I delay the inevitable for as long as possible. I keep finding reasons to push back the start date of this whole lifestyle change. I'm good at it, too, since I've had so much practice (I've been doing this since…oooooooooh...1976 or so). I’ve been treating every day like it was a “Last Supper” of sorts, the last time I was ever in the history of the world gonna eat anything even remotely unhealthy. So in preparation of this total lack of fun-time food, I’d make myself a toasted lasagna sandwich with extra mayo, or a deep-fried Cheddar Bo biscuit dipped in ranch dressing, or whatever evil concoction I could think of to clog up my arteries until the dreaded day when…

*cue “Tara’s Theme”*

…AS GOD AS MY WITNESS, I’LL NEVER EAT GREASY STICKY DISGUSTINGLY DELICIOUS JUNK FOOD AGAIN!

Yeah. That’s never really worked out so well.

I keep postponing D-Day (the “D” stands for “diet”…clever, huh?), as if there’s some sort of magical countdown to Healthy Living. There’s not. It’s more like a Nike commercial: Just Do It. This is fairly cliché, but still true: There really is no past. No future. There’s only Today, only Now, this minute. And in this minute, I can (more like I MUST) choose Healthy Living. But good-golly-miss-molly it’s HARD WORK!

It’s hard work because no matter what I do or when I do it, I will always want the gloppy-goopy-cream-filled-gravy-slathered-melty-cheese-laden crap I’ve always eaten. That’s difficult to fathom, and even more difficult to accept. I will always be at war with this urge to splurge, this need to feed. I remember once a few years ago being the youngest person sitting in a roomful of Overeaters Anonymous members. We were all “in recovery”, and all of us were suffering from the same thing: We wanted to eat. It was all we were thinking about. All we wanted to do was leave the meeting, go home, sit back in our recliners and have Golden Corral bring the buffet to US for a change. It was a hopeless feeling, knowing that this compulsion would never go away. I will always be fighting it, day in and day out.

So why bother?

I suppose that's the reason why I continue to postpone D-Day. It feels like a pointless fight, a fight I'm going to inevitably lose. So why bother fighting in the first place? That, my friends, is a chicken-shit outlook. That's fear talking. Fear of commitment, fear of success, fear of failure, fear of the above-mentioned HARD WORK, take your pick. Fear is, to put it bluntly, an asshole. And right now, this minute given to me by God, the Universe, Whatever and Ever, Amen, I choose to ignore Fear. I choose to Fight. And yes, I'm going to have to recommit to this one minute from now. And the minute after that. And every minute for the rest of my life. Well, not every minute. In every war, some battles are lost as well as won. I've just got to choose to lose as few battles of the bulge as possible. I can do it, I come from strong stock. And guess what? YOU CAN DO IT, TOO! If you want to, that is...

So here I sit, waiting for my pedal exerciser, my scales, and my heavy-duty-booty stool to be delivered so D-Day can begin. But really, it's already begun. It's all happening, and it's all happening right here, right now!

No, I will NOT be adding a Jesus Jones link on this blog.

HA, just kidding!

2010 Review / 2011 Preview

2011-01-30T00:48:00.007-05:00

Hello, Friends and Neighbors...

I'm fairly certain that this little opus of mine is exactly like 90% of the other blogs out there, weight loss or otherwise. One day Somebody Somewhere slips and falls in the bathroom, hits their head on the toilet and has a sudden, life-changing realization: "I am a brilliant writer! I have something to say! I want to be heard, and The World's gonna LISTEN!"

During the blog's first month, The Writer creates one entry after another. Sure, most of them crazed ramblings, but not all of them. Some of them half-baked ideas. And perhaps even a couple of them are well thought out, cohesive paragraphs. Something (GASP) worth reading.

Second month: the same, only less of it. Unless you're trying to recreate all of the recipes from Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in one year, you run out of material pretty quickly.

Third month: "I'm bored. Maybe I should write a blog entry. Yes, that's what I'll do, I'll write a HEY LOOK, TOSH.0 IS ON! And it's a RE-RUN!"

And by the fourth month: "Blog? What blog? I do have a LIFE after all, and HEY LOOK, A TOSH.0 MARATHON! And they're all dubbed in SPANISH? AWESOME!"

And so, here we are. A full year after my last entry. Not exactly my best year, either. Here's a little update for you: As of right now, I am an 38 year old unemployed, morbidly obese cripple who lives at home with his mother and bed-ridden father in the thriving metropolis of Farm Life, NC. In 2010 I lost my job, my home and - for the most part - my mind (which was hanging on by the tiniest of threads, let's face it).

My days are spent at home, watching and listening out for my dad while my mom divides her time between her grandchildren and her mother, my grandmother, who is living in a nursing home not far from our home. I watch TV. I sleep. I write a little. I talk to a few (too few) friends. I obsess over Facebook games and statuses.

And of course, I eat. It's what I'm best at.

I don't eat as badly as I did in Charlotte, when I was left to my own devices (I know my Sharon Amity Road / Albemarle Road area Papa John's, Domino's and Chinese take-out(s) are really missing my money right about now). But I'm not winning any Slim Goodbody awards, either. In fact, I'm exercising even less than I was before. No, I didn't think that was possible, either.

I have to use a walker to get around. I leave the house once a week if I'm lucky and/or motivated. I have given up almost everything I love: Going out to the movies, hanging out with friends, playing music with my buddies, and yes, going out to eat. My present existence is just that: mere existence, adding nothing, giving nothing, simply taking up space.

No, I am not looking for pity. I just want everyone to understand where I've been this past year, and where I am right now. I am not going to go into the "how'd I get here" portion of this story. Believe me, I've blamed my environment, my family, and even some friends. I've pointed a LOT of fingers, most (if not all) of them in the wrong direction. Long story short: I am here because of Choices, pure and simple. The life choices I've made since day one have all led up to this point in time.

Guess now's the time for me to write something inspiring like "And since I'm the one who created this reality I'm in, it's gonna be up to me to CHANGE it. So here I go!"

Nope, not this time. I've written that kind of shit way too much in this particular blog. And what has come of it? Nothing. So no more prophesies of success, at least not right now. I'll write what I think and what I feel when I feel like it, and I hope there's someone out there that'll want to hop on and ride along with me.

I will tell you that I ordered several items to assist me in getting my life back:

A bathroom scale - how can I get any smaller when I don't even know how B.I.G. I am?
A pedal exerciser - I can barely walk, so this is one of my few exercise options
A heavy-duty (for my heavy booty) stool - I bought this so that I can sit in the kitchen and prepare meals for myself in my crock pot.

But more on that later. Now back to The Blog.

This portion of ELA is going to turn out to be one of two things: A New Beginning, or The Beginning of The End. I won't know which until later. As for right now, I know I'm in for a bumpy night. You see, I ate my weight in baked spaghetti Saturday night, so I guess I'll be pooping pasta all day Sunday.

Hey, at least now I've got something to look forward to...

DAY ZERO

2010-01-25T02:08:00.002-05:00

Day Zero. The beginning. For the 1,238,998th time since God Knows When, I am starting over. New job, new license plate, new lease on life. So much to do to make things right again. So far to go on this journey. A journey in weight loss. A journey in regaining my health. A journey in getting my life back. It’s a journey I’ve started and stopped several times over. When I think of the time I’ve wasted, the relationships I’ve let sour, the opportunities I've let drift by...well, it's overwhelming, to say the least. And also a tad depressing. Just a tad.

But finally I’ve come to the realization that the past is the past, and it’s time to LET GO! And yes, I have actually come to that realization before. But why is "Letting Go" so hard to DO?! Damned if I know. Some people have no problem letting go and moving on. I am not one of those people. In fact, I kinda sorta hate those people. OK, I don't HATE hate them. I do envy that ability, though. Me? I like to hold onto things and wring every last ounce of guilt out of them that I can. I’ve held on to past transgressions (real and imagined) like my body has clung to the fat I’ve stored up over the years.

And guess what? Either way, UNHEALTHY!

If I'm going to get healthy, I must let go of the person I am now, the person I never wanted to be: unreliable, crippled, bitter, depressed, unmotivated, selfish, oh the list goes on and on. Somewhere over the past 15 or so years, this person has crept in and taken over. This person needs to be driven out, and FAST. So on Monday, January 25, 2010 I serve them their eviction notice. Time to start over...again.

This time, though, I start with a new self-confidence. I want to succeed, and I know I am worthy of success. I want to love and be loved, and I know I am worthy of Love. I want to choose to eat healthy, to BE healthy. And you know what? I’m worthy of that, too. Talk (or in this case Type) is cheap. What am I going to DO to make this happen. I'm going to start off with a Daily Plan of Action. A list of sorts, to help guide me to success on a particular day. We'll see how it works.

Plan of action:

Today I will NOT eat food from a fast food chain restaurant (ie McDonalds, Taco Bell, etc).
Today I will write out a meal plan chart for the rest of the week.

So far, so good, yes? I'll let you know how Day One goes tomorrow.

2009-08-04T17:07:00.011-04:00

This poor poor pitiful blog. So unattended to. So unloved. I've got some stuff to say, but I don't have time to say it right now. I should be working. Since I'm at work. Novel idea, that.

But the Especially Large Adventure continues, whether I write about it or not. More important than anything, my sister Candi has given birth to the two most special-ist babies ever made: Meredith and Berkley Manning. Dear-God-Almighty-Lord-Have-Mercy, but I do love those young 'uns. I know my Facebook Friends are sick and tired of reading my constant updates, but oh well. I have a feeling I'm gonna be bragging about these wee ones for a loooooong time to come.

More later...

Brothers and Sisters (and Uncles)

2009-04-09T22:47:00.003-04:00

My sister Candi is having a baby, y'all! Twins! Any day/week now. I'm going to be an uncle. Uncle Joey. I've been waiting for this day a long time. I'm not planning on having kids of my own. Hey, if it happens it happens, but I'll let you in on a little secret: It ain't gonna happen. But now my sister is having two-count-'em-TWO kids at once. AND she has a coupon: deliver one kid at regular price, and you can deliver another kid (of equal or lesser value/poundage) for HALF PRICE! It ain't Universal Healthcare, but it's a start...

No that coupon doesn't really exist, but the rest is true. Twins. Boy and girl. Me = Uncle. Damn, guess I'd better grow the hell up now, since I'll have two little ones looking up to me, at least 'til their teenagers. After that all bets are off, right?

I'll get to share my favortie movies, music and theater with them as they grow up. I can't wait to show them "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure". They are going to LAUGH! And what if one (or both) of them get involved in theater? I'll get to go to their shows, stand and clap for them, go see them backstage, tell them how wonderful they are. Just like my family did for me.

But first thing's first: They're babies, and I'll get to hold them. And smell them. And maybe even sing them to sleep once or twice. Notice that I didn't write a thing about changing any poopie diapers. There are some things even the BEST of uncles don't have to do. I'll get to love those children unconditionally, but I won't have to wipe their hineys. Or will I? Wait...CAN I love them unconditionally? WILL I? Is unconditional love really possible?

Oh man, I hope I don't screw this up...

The boy will be named Berkley. That's MY middle name. And my father's middle name. And his father's middle name. That's fine, that's great, pass that name on, why don't you! I can't wait to meet him, to love on him, and to smell his little baby head of his.

The girl, however, will be named Meredith. And THAT is one loaded name in my family. That was my sister's name...My sister that died in a car wreck in December of 2003. I won't lie to you: I've had a tough time calling this new kid by my sister's name.

In a way, it doesn't seem right, but it feels that way for the wrong reasons. Five years on, I still feel the need to mourn Meredith's loss, and I feel guilty if I'm not doing so. Guess what? That would PISS her off! That's wasting time, and Meredith did NOT like wasting time. I've done the mourning thing - and I've done it well - for the last five years. I've nearly killed myself with the mourning. It's time to stop mourning the loss of my sister Meredith, and start celebrating the birth of my niece Meredith! I mean really, how lucky am I? I get to meet a brand new little girl, and I get to kiss her on the forehead and say "Hey, Meredith. I love you so much." Oh God, I'm crying right now just thinking about it. It's going to be wonderful!

Like I said, in my family the name "Meredith" is loaded with pain and loss. The pain has eased a bit over time, but it's always there. I dare you to scratch the surface. But soon, "Meredith" will be a name associated with life and love again. And that would make my sister proud. I'll never stop mourning her, really. And every time I see my niece, I know I'll always think of her Aunt Meredith, whom she'll never get to meet (at least not in this life). But I'll do my best to remember her with a laugh and a smile, not with a tear and a wimper.

And Meredith would want it that way. Don't you think?

tomorrow is now yesterday, and what have I accomplished

2008-12-18T02:00:00.003-05:00

My three tasks for today? Not done, not done and not done. Am I beating myself up for it? No. 'Cuz I'm gonna get to them all, Lord willin' and the creek don't rise. Did I really just type that?

I'm going to meet a friend I haven't been keeping up with. She is a wonderful lady, and I was too ashamed to get in touch with her. Ashamed of what I've made (or haven't made) of myself, mainly. But then I ran into her at a CSO concert. I told her why I hadn't contacted her. She looked at me like I was crazy (which I am sometimes). She said "Honey, I'm an old woman, I don't care about such things." And I believed her. So I'm going to have lunch with her at Cracker Barrel tomorrow, even though I'm broke as hell and can barely walk.

Before my lunch, I'm gonna shave. After lunch, I'm going to the grocery store to get my soup ingredients. Throughout the day, I'm gonna ponder my credit situation, and make sure I'm making the right decision there. Doing the debt consolidation thing is bad news for my credit score, which is in dire straits as it is. But it would save me quite a bit of money. That's always nice.

Headed for the Future

2008-12-16T23:32:00.005-05:00

For the first time in a loooooooooooooong time, I'm excited. Why am I excited?

Let's start at the beginning.

You see, I let things get to me. And once they get to me, they've got me. Forever. At least it's felt like forever. Things that happened when I was a kid. I'm still holding on to them as an adult. Somebody wronged me 15 - 20 years ago? I STILL feel wronged, even if they've tried to righten things up with me since then. Failures past become failures present, even future failures have felt inevitable. Simply because I won't let go. I can't let go.

Can't - Let - Go.

THAT'S why I'm fat. I can't let go of this excess weight. It's been the one consistent thing in my life since pre-school. It helped me develop my sense of humor ("I'll make them laugh...THEN they've GOT to like me!"). It kept me from getting my heart broken (for the most part). What woman in her right mind would want to be seen with me? That was my thinking, anyway.

But being funny is NOT the same thing as being happy. And sometimes a woman will give me a shot at love, in spite of the way I look. The NERVE of some people! And each time, I am woefully unprepared for that shot. And each time, it ends badly. But every time a joke falls flat, or whenever my ladies finally decide to leave me be, my excess weight is there for me, like a warm security blanket, protecting me from the cold hard facts of life. Protecting me from the truth.

What is the truth? It's this: The weight that has shaped me (for I am quite the well-rounded one) into the person that I am today is, right now & at this moment, KILLING ME! And yet, I still can't let go. I can't say goodbye. It's like an old friend who just happens to be poisonous person - a person you KNOW brings nothing but pain and heartache wherever they go. But they're your friend...you can't turn your back on them. You simply HAVE to invite them to the Christmas party again this year. Don't you?

Nope.

I've written a lot about "tomorrow" in this blog. Not lately, of course. Mainly because I haven't written SHIT lately. Since my last post, a lot of tomorrow's have come and gone. Guess what? Still fat. Still unhealthy. Still waiting for change, instead of creating change.

So tomorrow...what's it gonna be? It's gonna be different. I have credit-carded myself into a corner. I'm $10,000 in debt, 300 pounds overweight, and I haven't shaved in a month. Tomorrow's gonna be different, though. How exactly? I'll tell you:

I'm gonna shave...provided I can find a razor and shaving cream.
I'm gonna join a credit counseling service, and get my unsecured debt under control.
I'm gonna go out and buy the ingredients for some Weight Watchers soup.

Is any of this going to change the way I think overnight? Nope. Change the way I look overnight? Nope (OK, except for the shaving part). But it's a start. I've lived too long thinking I'm finished. Unlucky at work, unlucky in love, unlucky at life. Guess what? I coulda done a few things a whole lot differently and been lucky at all three. But I've made bad choices. But I'm not gonna live with those bad choices anymore. No sir. Instead, I'm gonna let those bad choices go. I can't change them now. I am much more than my past! I am my future, too. I HAVE a future, damnit!

A wise woman once turned me on (boy, how she turned me on) to a great American poet. That poet's name? Neil Diamond. Neil has given me words to live by: As of right now, I'm "headed for the future, and the future's now...show you how". Yes, it IS a terrible song. The song's not the point. What is the point? I don't know anymore. I just wanted to talk about Neil Diamond for a second.

And now that second has passed.

It's in the past.

It's time to let it go.

And it's time to go to bed.

When I wake up, it'll be the future, and for the first time in a long time, I'm excited about that. When I wake up, it'll be time to incorporate the three little changes I listed above. But you just wait: my little changes are going to add up to big things one day. I know they will.

Good night...

Brand New Week - Brand New Blog Entry

2008-10-19T23:35:00.006-04:00

I've decided to just eat cardboard for the rest of this week. Cardboard is high in Vitamin C (for Cardboard), and is also high in fiber. Who knows, I may start pooping little boxes. Which would be great, because I need a place to store my summer clothes.

OK, maybe I'll expand my pallet a bit. How about sand? Is sand fattening? Is it digestible? Is it tasty? If anyone has any first-hand experience eating sand, or dirt, or some delicious mud, please let me know.

Went to Farm Life this weekend. I re-upped my drivers license. My drivers license picture...it is something to behold. I look like the world's fattest serial killer. "I will hunt you down...then I will kill you...then I will fry you up and eat you...with a side of macaroni and cheese." It has inspired me to do mo' better. At least I did mo' better whilst I was at home. As soon as I got to Charlotte, I totally sabotaged myself, like I always do. Monday will be better. Much better.

I like that when I was eating well (on Friday and Saturday) that I slept the whole night through, instead of waking up every two hours to shake the dew off'n my lily. I liked that my knee didn't hurt quite as badly when I ate more healthily. And I LOVE the fact that when I eat healthy I usually wake up sporting the world's biggest woody (ok..."world's biggest" may be stretching the truth a wee-wee bit). That's right: I'm Horny for Healthy Eating!

I have so many reasons to eat right, lose weight, and not die. Right now, the most important reason is the fact that my sister is pregnant with twins . I want to be able to roll around on the floor and play with those bubbies. I want to live to see them graduate from KINDERGARTEN, not to mention high school and college. I love them so much, and I don't even know them. I will probably never know what it's like to be a real-life dad. And that's ok. I WILL be an uncle, and I am going to be the best damn uncle those children could ever hope for. I'm going to teach them about the glories of rock and roll, the wonderful world of the Marx Brothers, the simple joys of Pitfall, Galaga and Ms. Pac-Man. Oh the wonders and joys that await them in this world. We won't mention the disappointment and heartache that await them, too. They get to learn that on their own...

Until later.

fear

2008-09-21T00:57:00.006-04:00

I've got to start updating this damn thing more often. Otherwise, how will I ever become known as the most Gangsta-Ass Blogga of all the Blogga's in the known universe? I ask you. I ask you? Blogga, please...

OK. So far, so good.

Let's talk about fear. Fear has motivated me to do absolutely nothing for a long time now. In fact, I'm afraid to continue writing about this very subject. Why? Because admitting the truth hurts. It doesn't hurt just me. It would hurt a few others too. At least I think it would. But I'll never know, because I'm afraid to find out.

That kinda sums up my life, and why I haven't done much of anything since college: I'm afraid to find out things. In particular, what I'm capable of achieving (writing/directing-wise, health-wise, relationship-wise, etc). I'd rather play it safe and sit around all day eating, working a dead-end job, etc. And I don't understand why other people aren't as afraid as I am. I don't know how they do what they do. How can they trust someone enough to marry them, raise children with them. Don't they know they'll only get their heart broken? Don't they know their spouse will cheat on them? Don't they know that one day their children will turn on them, resent them, hate them, and worst of all, disappoint them? How do people get over that fear? Or do they even have that fear? Am I the only one?

I've been told I'm crazy. Of course, the person telling me I'm crazy was one of the people who helped drive me crazy in the first place. I don't doubt for a minute that there's something wrong with me, that somewhere along the line, a switch that shouldn't have been switched went off in my head. Other people don't let fear rule their life. Other people don't sit and eat until their almost 3 times heavier than the average man. So yes, I guess I am crazy. Thanks for noticing.

Crazy or not, I've got to make some changes. The same changes I've been blogging on and off about for the last few months. If my health doesn't turn around, I'm a dead man. If I turn my health around, but don't get my creative juices flowing again, then I'm still a dead man. Emotionally, anyway. Oh, did I mention that I'm easily overwhelmed? Which usually leads to fear: "How am I going to get all of this done?". And fear always leads to...nothing. Nothing. What's the point? Do nothing, eat something.

I've GOT to do something.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm going to achieve TWO things on Sunday. The first thing is I'm going to take the trash out. I won't go into details, but let's just say I've been putting this off for far too long. Second thing is, I've been putting off the Master Cleanse for a long while now. Tomorrow afternoon, I'm getting the ingredients to start on it sometime during the upcoming week. I'll need herbal tea, lemons, maple syrup, etc. Sure, it's a harsh thing to do to a fella who's used to eating his troubles away, night after night. These are harsh times, though. I need to learn discipline. I need to remember there are consequences to all of my actions, whether I'm eating too much, or standing a friend up, or breaking my word, etc. I am a man. Well, I should be a man. But I act like a child. That's a hard pill to swallow, and a tough fact to admit. But it's the truth.

And like I said before, admitting the truth sure does hurt.

But there are other truths to consider. I am a talented writer and performer. I am a good person who wants to do good things for others. I have the ability to make people laugh. The only thing that hurts in regards to these truths is the fact that I have all but hidden them from the world. Except for the making people laugh part. I've used (and sometimes abused) that ability for too long. I'm tired of hiding the rest of my good qualities, using my bad health and morbid obesity as an excuse to sit on my ass and rot while the world keeps on spinning, and friends and family keep on living, with or without me.

I'm done saying what I'm going to do, I'm done saying what I'm going to stop doing. It's time to do. It's time to be. No fear. So I'm going to post this blog entry, even though I'm afraid it's too rambling, and it doesn't make sense. What if Mark Twain had said that after he'd written "The Adventures of Huckelberry Finn"? Yeah, that's right, I am totally comparing myself to Mark Twain. Because that's how I roll. From now on.

Blogga, please...

I Was Never Much Good at Good-Byes

2008-08-24T22:56:00.004-04:00

What does it take to make one decide to end it all? What exactly has to happen to make a suicidal person actually attempt the suicide they've been contemplating for minutes, hours, days, weeks, years even? My guess is that it's something stupid, something small. After a lifetime of pain and misery, someone decides to swallow sleeping pills because their cable got cut off, and they're fresh out of dvd's to watch. Nothing else to do. Let's just end this farce called Life, shall we?

I would be lying if I said I had never thought of suicide. Up until a few years ago, it was a very rare thought. I've been fighting depression for a long time now (at least since my mid-teens, looking back on it all), but the depression never seemed to take over my life and make me want to kill myself. Either that, or the guilt of leaving my family and friends with a "What could we have done?" feeling for the rest of their lives took hold at the last minute.

But lately, especially this past year and a half or so, the suicidal thoughts have really taken hold. And I can't discount them as easily as I used to. They just linger. And now, with my high-paying job in Raleigh gone forever, an eating disorder raging within, and a bum knee taking over my life (or lack of life), these days those thoughts pop up a few times a week, at least.

"End it...just END IT! Your pain, your loneliness, your feelings of guilt and unworthiness...they could all vanish with a couple of slices and dices. Let's face it: you're not living, really. Your friends and your family have to baby you, hand you your cane, take your "sturdy chair" from one room to another so you can sit, you can't go out...why go on? You're eating more and exercising less. That's right, you're getting fatter by the day. Soon you won't be able to walk at all. You'll be holed up in your condo, sucking taxpayers dry with your disability/social security checks, letting others feed you, wash you, resent you. What are you waiting for? Just get it over with, while there are still a few people left who'll go to your funeral. Loser. "

Rereading that paragraph gives me shivers. Truthfully, that has been my inner-monologue for the past 18 monts or so. Not all of the time, but sometimes. Usually when I'm alone, after a binge, and in physical pain.

The good news? I still have time to reclaim my life, even though in my dark times I don't believe it.

The bad news? It's going to take a LOT of work. Day after day after day.

I hated every minute of training, but I said, ''Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.'' - Muhammad Ali

Part of me thinks I read the above quote a little too late in life. That's bullshit, of course. It's never too late to change. It's never too late to start training for life, so you can live like a champion. I've never been one for discipline, never one for "training". I've always been a "fly by the seat of your pants" kind of guy. That sure is fun...when your young and full of beans. And franks. But I've been paying for that lack of listening, learning and planning for most of my adult life. Things have got to change. Or one of these days, I'm really gonna start listening to that sad and bitter voice inside my head: "Give up. Give up. Give up..."

I'm not giving up. Not today. All of my self-fullfilling prophecies have come to pass: I am a failure at work, at love and at life. That's what I've created...I made all of those failures happen. That's how powerful I am. So I'll be damned if I'm not powerful enough to undo at least some of the damage I've done to myself and to others.

This is my first blog entry in awhile, and right now it's a rambling mess. But like me, the blog's gonna get better. When I started the blog, I wanted everyone to read, everyone to see, everyone to give me as much attention as humanly possible. It was never enough, and I still failed at what I was trying to achieve. Now I'm gonna try writing for me, and hope that others will eventually get to read and enjoy what I have to say. That is, if I have anything worth saying. We'll see.

Big Picture: I have to get down to the 200 pound mark as fast (while still staying healthy) as I can. My knees can't take the stress, and I miss being able to walk.

Baby Steps: Tomorrow I will eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast, have a light lunch and a light dinner as well. Who knows, I may have cereal for all three meals.

Big Picture: I have to decorate my condo

Baby Steps: I'll clean my room and bathroom. Gotta start somewhere.

Big Picture: I have to write again. I want a couple of shows under my belt within the next year.

Baby Steps: I'll write a scene with my writing partner this week.

Big Picture: Live life as a champion.

Baby Steps: Train hard every day. Don't give up. Don't quit.

It's not too late to start training, I know that for a fact. I want my life to change for the better. I can change. I will change.

God, I pray to you right now, wherever you are, in front of whoever might be reading: I cannot do this without you. I have proven time and time again that I am weak without you. I ask you to please forgive me for doubting you, for not believing in you, for forsaking you. God, please help me to change my life. Please help me.

Would somebody...anybody...give me an "Amen"?

Hiatus

2008-07-24T01:22:00.003-04:00

Just wanted to say a quick "thank you" to everyone who's taken the time to skim, read, and even comment on "Joey G's Especially Large Adventure". I am a lucky guy who has many wonderful friends, that is for sure.

I won't be posting any new content for awhile while I rethink my goals and retool the format.

Thanks again.

j

Gd Dmn Bl*g

2008-07-14T21:00:00.002-04:00

This G*d D*mn B*lg...it's killin' me. It's been pestering me to write for over a week now. Pestering me to write about the last two weeks of utter food failure on my part. About how one night I decided "Hey, I'm strong...I can handle some Pizza Hut Pasta." WRONG, so FUCKING wrong! I've been paying for it ever since. Two weeks of eating pure-t shit, pretending everything was fine. It's not fine.

It hit me all at once today. I was sick as a dawg from a very long and emotionally draining weekend. Not from partying hardy, and certainly not from too much lovin'. Just emotional exhaustion. I'm not going to go into it. But I am getting a counseler and go into it with him/her. I think I know everything that they're going to tell me. I'll bet I'm wrong. At least partly.

But all of this...this binge after binge after binge...it stops now. My body forced me to stop today. And tomorrow, I want to be able to make that choice for myself, not have it dictated to me by a sensitive belly and a roller-coaster bowel problem. That's right I said it. Wait...when did I eat corn?

Thanks to you all who've nudged me along these past two weeks. I don't know why I need so much attention...guess I'll find out from that counselor I'm about to hire to fix my crazy. I'll somehow find a way to blame my parents. Mwaa ha ha...watch out Joe and Mary C, I'm about to play the Blame Game!

Wait, on second thought, maybe I'll give them a pass. Yeah...I'll take responsibility for my actions...for my own (terrible) decisions. I am an adult, am I not? What's that? I'm NOT an adult? Great! Then it's back to blaming my parents...Yee haw, I'm free from blame all over again. Let's go celebrate. Is Golden Corral still open?

Tomorrow, I am fo' sho' staying on the wagon. I'm sick of eating shit. It's not fun, I don't feel good, and I look like hell. And looks are really what this is all about, right? Health schmealth...I want some hot lovin', and I want it now. And the only grunts I want to hear coming from me are hot-lovin' grunts, not "Dear Lord how on earth does she expect me to do THAT with this bum knee of mine?" grunts. Hell, a grunt's a grunt, and either way it means I'm getting lucky, so it can't be all bad, right?

Ooooo...I think my blog just turned dirty. FINALLY!

And remember kids, every time you overeat, a unicorn loses something very special.

Talk to you tomorrow.

back to the old way of doing things

2008-07-10T14:36:00.002-04:00

As I've already told some of you, when I don't write a blog entry for several days, you can bet your sweet bippie that I'm not doin' so well. Well guess what? I'm not doin' so well.

I'll write a big confessional when I get the courage. But for now, I'm just barely hanging on. It's amazing how hard and fast I can fall off of the wagon. I feel terrible, I look terrible...ugh.

More to come.

Eating an Elephant

2008-07-07T13:38:00.002-04:00

Q: How do you eat an elephant?

A: One bite at a time.

Losing 300 pounds is a daunting task. So is losing 10. Anyone who's ever needed/wanted to lose a few (or more than a few) pounds knows it's one of the most difficult goals to achieve. It takes hard work, willpower and even a bit of organization. But above all else, it takes a little patience. And wouldn't you just know it...I don't have any of those traits. Thanks a lot, God. Just kidding God. Please don't strike me dead.

This weekend at Kiawah Island, my uncle told me the elephant "joke" I shared at the top of this post. Any seemingly-insurmountable task is like eating an elephant. An elephant is one of nature's largest animals. Friggin' huge, I tell ya. How can one mere mortal eat an entire elephant (if one were so inclined), all by him/herself? Just like any other meal: one bite at a time. Sure, it's going to take a some time, but little by little, bit by bit, the elephant will get eaten.

I will lose this 300 pounds. It's going to take a looooooooooong time, at least a couple of years, but it's going to happen. My uncle has promised me his old stationary bike. I have to figure out a way to get it to my house. I'm very excited. I have not been able to walk very well for about six months now. It is very frustrating. With this bike, I'll be able do some rigorous exercising without straining my knee. I'm gonna work up a cold sweat, I tell you!

I haven't written in a few days because I've had nothing good to report. I haven't been sober since last week. Every day I've eaten a little too much. I want today to be my first sober day in a week. I've had my cereal for breakfast, and will probably do more cereal for lunch. For dinner I'll have a "normal" sized portion of Chinese food with steamed rice (no egg roll). Then no late night fast food stop. Straight to bed for me. I'll share a little about my beach trip on my next post.

'Til then, eat a Twinkie for me! On second thought, don't. Those things aren't really that good for you...

Pleasure and Pain

2008-07-02T03:27:00.002-04:00

"The thing about…all drugs, I think, all habits…of that type: chemicals, alcohol, everything. There’s a period when…the pleasure greatly outnumbers and outweighs the pain…the price you pay. The ratio of pleasure to pain was...a good sized one. Over the years, the difference in the ratio was evident: Much less pleasure, far more pain.

"At one point, I finally said “You know…This costs much more than it’s worth.” And the Intellect took over from the wayward adult. The Intellect said: “This doesn’t work anymore. This is not worth it, you have to change this.”

"So what I did was, I never went to a facility, I never had a detox period, never had any of that. I just began using less, and using it less frequently...until it was gone."

George Carlin (1937 - 2008)
regarding his own drug abuse issues
Inside the Actors Studio
2004

This isn't just an opportunity to quote a great comedian who has recently left us. This quote speaks to me about the nature of addiction...of my addiction, at least. Especially the first paragraph about the ratio of pleasure to pain.

When I was younger, I could eat what I wanted. Sure it made me fat and sassy, and everywhere I went total strangers pointed at me and laughed. But even though I was 286 pounds in 8th grade, and at least 325 in high school, it didn't bother me. At least not enough to do anything about it. I wanted to be the same size as the other kids, sure. But not enough to give up junk food, fast food, fatty food, sugary sweet food. I could still walk with no pain. I just got out of breath every once in awhile, that's all. No worries.

But now that I'm older, and my body is worse for wear and tear, whatever pleasure I now receive from overindulging in rich, fatty foods is counteracted by the pain caused by eating said foods. There's pain in the literal sense (as in "My knee is KILLING ME, I can't walk with you today") and there's pain in the psychological sense (as in "Harumph...I'm always gonna be fat! Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I'm gonna eat some worms!"). All I know is this: Pain is pain, and it sucks! Literal, psychological, it does not matter which. It all hurts.

And now, just as in Mr. Carlin's story, my Intellect (such as it is) is finally standing up and saying "HEY! You think this stuff is hurting you? It's not. This stuff is KILLING you! If you don't stop now, you are going to DIE!"

That's a hell of a thing to hear from one's own Intellect, I'm just sayin'...

But are these harsh words enough to keep me on the path of en-lighten-ment (as in "I'd better lighten up, or else my heart's gonna explode")? Dear God in Heaven, I hope so. These last few days have been a struggle, I admit. I totally bombed out on Monday night, what with the Pizza Hut Pasta extravaganza and all. On Tuesday night, I did much better. But I overindulged on the peanut butter and jelly "dessert", so I can't truthfully say I'm "one day sober".

Wednesday is here now. A chance to start all over. Will it be my first day back on the wagon, for real and for true? I'm not a fortune teller. I'm not making promises any more, to myself or anyone else. I've proven time and time again that right now, my word is worth two things: Jack and Shit...and Jack left town.

That's right, I'm quoting Army of Darkness, the third film in the Holy Trinity of horror movies: The Evil Dead Trilogy. It's 3am, I have to be at work at 9:30am, and I haven't slept a wink all night, so forgive me if I'm feeling kinda loopy.

The point is, I'm done making promises to myself and others, and not keeping them. That's part of the reason I'm here in the first place: I make promises, I don't keep the promises, I feel terrible about myself for not keeping the promises, what do I do when I feel terrible about myself? I EAT! Let's break this circle up, shall we?

I'm going to do this at my own pace, and I'm going to do this for myself. No one else. OK, a few other people. The people who love me and want me around a little while longer. Chances are, if you're reading this blog, you are one of these special people. Thank you. I love you.

My little prayer for today: Lord, I pray that my Intellect is a yeller, because it'll need to do a lot of screaming to be heard over the constant drone of "what am I going to have for dinner" or "that chocolate cake looks reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeal goooooooooooooooood" or "a little Taco Bell never killed anybody".

Yes. I have a food addiction. Have I mentioned that already?

Tonight = Major Failure

2008-06-30T23:43:00.002-04:00

Tonight I ended my 8 day sobriety run. I ordered stupid pasta from stupid Pizza Hut and ate every last bit of it. If that wasn't enough, I had five cheese sticks, too. I am disgusted. But not with myself. With the choice I made.

I knew going into it that the food would not make me feel better about myself, nor would it make my life better. On the contrary, the food made me feel TERRIBLE about myself, and if anything made my life worse. For a moment, anyway.

Why did I break down? How could I let evil Addie, the Food Addiction Demon that lives in my head, win, and win so BIG? I went back to my comfy place, the place where food is always around, and it always makes me happy. Yeah, right. All of this health consciousness has lost its new car smell, so I got bored and decided I needed a little dinnertime pick-me-up. Bad move on my part. Fuckin' Pizza Hut. It's not Pizza Hut's fault, it's mine. They're just the assholes who make the drug I crave. I'm gonna have to go back to "Just Say No" mentality.

Tomorrow is the first day of my new sobriety run. I'm going to make it at least another 8 days, and will no doubt get to 9, then 10, etc. This whole "health" thing is gonna work out, damnit. I'm not gonna slide back into old habits so soon. I want to walk without my cane, I want to be able to walk up a flight of stairs without losing my breath, I want to know the love of a good woman...preferably while naked. I can achieve all of these lofty goals, but not if I make the same mistakes I've always made, time and time again.

I'm getting back on the wagon tomorrow. Anybody wanna ride with me?

Food is Fuel

2008-06-30T11:10:00.010-04:00

Food is Fuel...nothing more.**

To me, those words are enlightening.

Over the years, I've made food out to be so much more than mere fuel for my body: It's been a Comforter, a Protector and Destroyer, a Friend and an Enemy. In actuality, food isn't any of those things. Food is fuel...nothing more.

I'm not a big fan of tattoos, but I can see myself getting this important phrase tattooed somewhere on my body. Preferably somewhere I can easily see. No lower back / ass crack tattoos for me. Maybe right on my belly, or one of my luscious man-boobs. Oh yeah, now we're talking...sexy and practical, which incidentally is just how I like my ladies.

This past weekend was a success! I had pretty much the same lunch I had on Saturday, and for dinner I had a healthy helping of movie popcorn and a small orange slushie...which was actually the size of a small keg. My roommate and I went to see "Wall-E" at the movies. It was good, but the opening cartoon (about a magician and his hungry rabbit) was even better. Or at least it would have been, had it not been interrupted by a fire drill. I guess somebody left the nacho cheese in the microwave a little too long, and the toxic smoke set off the alarm. The whole theater had to be evacuated. The good news is that we all get a free movie because of the inconvenience. I think I'll go see lip-o-licious Angelina Jolie sex up the big screen in "Wanted".

OK, back to work. Everybody remember to fuel up! Eight days sober and counting...

**PS: A special thank you to TokenFatGuy for the quote of the day!

Happy Anniversary to Me

2008-06-28T22:46:00.003-04:00

Today, Saturday June 28, 2008, is my seventh day sober.

That just means I haven't binged in a week. I haven't overeaten...in my opinion, anyway. I am very proud of myself. And all of the friends and family I talk to mentions how proud they are as well. Of course that pleases me to no end. After I get this eating thing under control, I think it'll be high time to tackle that "I want your approval, and I want it right NOW" problem that also haunts me day in and day out. First thing's first, though...

Today I woke up too late to have breakfast, so I went straight in for lunch. I had two fat free hotdogs with one slice of Velveeta sandwich cheese (split between the two hotdogs), along with a bit of ketchup and mustard. I also had a serving of vegetable chips, and four almonds. No snacks in between…mainly because I slept all afternoon. Yeah, that particular decision was not so wise, because now I'll probably be up all night.

For supper, I met my friends Kim and Mark at a favorite Indian restaurant and got some vegetable korma, which is a mild, and in this case sweet, curry dish, served with rice and nan bread. I ate all of my food, and it was delicious. But even though it was vegetarian, it was not the healthiest choice I could have made. Yes, my next battle will be to get away from the “saucy” foods. I love them so, but they are not very good for you. The next time I go to an Indian restaurant, I’ll get the chicken tandoori, which doesn’t have a heavy sauce. Sigh…

After dinner, I met my uncle at the movie theater. And I didn’t get a snack! It’s unbelievable, really. I’ve done so badly for so long food-wise, I didn’t think it was possible for me to hit the ‘reset’ button and start all over again. But that’s exactly what I’m doing, one day at a time. And if I can do it, anyone can! You just have to want to do it. No one else can make you. Just ask my friends, they’ll tell you!

I believe that only another addict can truly appreciate the importance of today's sobriety milestone. Seven days of good food choices, when normally I wouldn't go seven hours without making a bad food choice. Seven days of not using food as a security blanket. Seven days of very little fast food of any kind. I can't believe it. If you had told me last week this time that all of this would happen, I would have called you a liar. Then I would have added a quick "bless your heart" to make the "liar" comment seem a little less harsh.

But here's the scary thing: it's only been seven days. I have a whole lifetime (if I'm lucky) of days left to go. That's a whole lot of good choices I'm going to have to make. And in my weaker moments, I think "How the hell do they expect me NOT to overeat? It's what I DO! It's what I've ALWAYS done! Why should I stop now?!" Don't ask me who the hell "they" are, by the way. Damned if I know...

But I think I've turned a corner. This evening, as I sat beside my Uncle Norman watching a movie, Addie (that's the name I've given the Addiction Demon that lives in my head and tries to control me any time he can) came out of hiding, as he often does as the sun goes down. He started talking the same old bullshit he's always talking: "You know, there's an Arby's right down the street from this movie theater. AND they've got the 2 for $4 Beef 'n' Cheddar sandwich sale going on...your favorite! All that, plus a large order of deep fried potato cakes, smothered in horseradish and Arby's sauce? You KNOW you're gonna go there after the movie."

I didn't, though. Why? Because, even as Addie was talking his smack, the same smack that usually works on me and makes me eat enough to feed a small African village, I beat him down. Bad. Even before he could finish, I began telling myself the truth as I've always known, but always ignored:

All that food would make me feel absolutely crappy about myself.
All that food would hurt my body and force me to start this sobriety trek all over again.
And most importantly: All that food would NOT fill the hole in my soul I so long to fill up, once and for all. So why bother?

Good points, all. Glad I listened this time.

So tomorrow will begin my eighth day of sobriety. Hopefully followed by a ninth. Then a tenth. And so on, and so on, and scooby dooby dooby. I'll have to fight for my sobriety each and every day. I am lucky enough to have a good support system, but when it comes down to it, I'm the one who has to make the food choices, good or bad.

Pray for "good", won't you?

The Plan

2008-06-27T21:50:00.000-04:00

In Overeaters Anonymous, there's a lot of talk about a Plan of Eating. I'm all for that. But there's a little something else that I've been missing for a long time: a Plan of Living. I need a Life Plan pretty desperately. I've been living by the seat of my pants for way to long, and the seat of my pants is starting to wear thin. You know what that means, don't you? That's right: my ass is beginning to show.

I realize that, in order to stay sober, I’ve got to stay busy. Theatre used to keep me busy, even though it could never seem to keep me svelt. If I had stayed active in theatre after college, I wouldn’t have ballooned up to my present weight. But I didn’t stay active. Oh well, too late to worry. That's in the past, it's done. There’s no use in crying about it.

That’s another thing I’ll be incorporating in my Plan of Living: forgiveness. I'm talking mainly of forgiving myself for various things: opportunities and life lessons ignored, failed relationships, life-altering (and sometimes life-threatening) choices made, etc. But guess what? God forgives me for my sins, as long as I ask. And I have, countless times. In fact, He's probably sick of me asking. If God can forgive me of my sins, then there is no reason I can't forgive myself.

But I'm not the only person who needs forgiving. There are a few other people - friends, loved ones and such - that I need to forgive as well. And actually, I have forgiven them, as well as myself. But sometimes, that forgiveness kinda wears off after a bit of time has passed. The bitterness of the past crops up and I get angry over things that happened years ago. That hate doesn't do anyone any good, especially me. So I end up having to forgive myself - and others - all over again. It’s a continuous process, and it'll probably go on forever. Kinda like my addiction to food. To quote perhaps-soon-to-be Senator Al Franken’s character Stewart Smalley: “And that’s…ok.” Al Franken...if I lived in Minnesota, I’d vote for him. I’m a loyal SNL fan, no apologies here (wait for the commercial to play through to find out why I'm still loyal...I keep waiting for more sketches like this one).

For this weekend, though, I’m going to focus mainly on keeping busy. The more stuff I have to do, the less likely I am to sit around the condo and binge like a mad man. Tonight, I’m going to my cousin’s house for a small birthday party. Then back home to write. Or maybe a movie.

On Saturday evening, dinner with old friends. Then a movie afterwards.

On Sunday evening? You guessed it…movie time, once again.

I’ve just got to make sure my Saturday and Sunday afternoons are binge-free. I am excited about Sunday. That’s gonna be my one-week anniversary. One whole week. Wow! Perhaps I shouldn't get too ahead of myself. I still have 48 hours to go before I can really celebrate that milestone. I can't believe how hard it's been to get this far...and it's only been a few days!

Right now, the only thing missing from my Plan of Life is the OA staple: a Plan of Eating, which is the thing I need most of all. Maybe that’s what I’ll work on during the days on Saturday and Sunday. That and the musical my writing partner and I are working on. I need to finish two scenes this weekend and hand them off to him to go over with a fine tooth comb.

Speaking of which, I need to go brush my teeth, because they’re feeling a little hairy right now. Thanks for reading. Have a great weekend!

The Excuse

2008-06-27T01:34:00.001-04:00

Today wasn't my best day.

It started off well enough. I got to sleep late (one of the joys of being a part-timer) and walk around the condo all day in my PJ's. My writing partner dropped by for a few hours and we talked through some ideas for what I think will be a very good musical. Now we've just got to write the damn thing. Later in the evening, I knew I was going to see some friends and co-workers to eat some Chinese food and play some good music. I was all set for a great day.

Then I got the e-mail.

My girlfriend and I have not been doing well since I moved to Charlotte. I won't get into details, because this blog is about weight loss and health, not relationships. Long story short: I'm a bad boyfriend. That's right, ladies...I'm bad news. You've never had a boyfriend worse than me. I'll ignore you, flirt with your friends, treat you like dirt, then make you think it's ALL your fault. I've got other tricks, too. But I'll save those for later. So if you're looking for a fixer-upper, call me up. I'm available...and I'm your worst nightmare.

But at least I'm not bitter.

The e-mail she sent was her version of a "Dear John" letter. It was to-the-point and had some nice things to say, but when all's said and done, it was a fucking break-up e-mail. I can't be mad about her choice of communication, though. Why? Because my dumb ass sent her a break-up e-mail just like it a few months ago. But then we got back together, yadda yadda yadda, and I end up getting this e-mail. She and I are very good at talking things out...can you tell?

So she broke up with me. At first I just sat there on my couch, logically thinking "It's ok, you knew this was coming, didn't you? Why get upset?" Right. Then of course I got upset. I cried, ok? I know, poor me. I was sad. She's a good gal, and cared for me very much. So yes, I cried. I wrote her a response e-mail, one I hope didn't sound too resentful or angry. I haven't heard back, and I kinda hope I never do. At least not for awhile.

Why share all of this personal stuff? What does it have to do with my weight-loss journey? Because at this point, I was four days sober, and just looking for an excuse to binge. Then I get one, in the form of a break up e-mail. I had BIG binge plans. Oh the things I was going to do. Taco Bell, Burger King, maybe some Indian food...the possibilities were endless.

But I did OK throughout the day. Sure I had four pieces of vegetarian pizza for brunch. But that's not a binge. Is it? Normal people eat four pieces of pizza, right? Somebody please say yes, because I am NOT going to count it as a binge, damnit.

And for dinner, I had two servings of fried rice, and two servings of Chinese food (chicken and shrimp dishes) at my friends house, right before the jam session. That's not a binge either, shut your face!

Oh, but my "late night snack"...that's when I was gonna screw up my sobriety. I had big plans for my belly. But as I was leaving Scott's house, ready for the gooey fast food that was about to invade my body, another friend (Bud) said "Joe...be sure to drive straight home." How dare he read my mind and try to boss me around for my own good? Who does this guy think he is, my Diddy (that's how we say "father" in Farm Life)? For a second, I was kinda pissed. So what did I do? I looked him straight in the eye and simply said "OK".

And with that, I got in my car and drove straight home.

My fifth day of sobriety. I wouldn't be able to write that and mean it without the help of my friends. I had the best binge excuse I've had all week, and I really...REALLY wanted to go all out. But with the help of one very direct comment, I didn't. My fifth day of sobriety. Wow.

When all is said and done, I am responsible for my health. I am the one who chooses what to eat and how much. I am the one who chooses whether or not I exercise. But right now, I am weak, and I need help. And it's comforting to know that my friends and family love me enough to support me through my recovery, but at the same time kind of kick my ass when my ass needs kicking. This addiction...this disease is not going to get the better of me. At least not right now. Because right now, it is time for me to go to bed.

Good night.

I Think It's Only Gonna Get Harder

2008-06-25T22:36:00.003-04:00

I had a realization today. I realized that my food addiction is going to be with me from now until the day I die. It'll be living inside my head, chiding me, telling me I'm worthless. It'll tell me the only thing that loves me is food. "People let you down. Food is forever." My addiction is such an asshole. How do drug addicts find the strength to stop using drugs? How do alcoholics stop drinking alcohol? I don't understand. I can't take this much longer. I want to eat my mattress right now. If I had some extra-sharp cheddar cheese and a big enough microwave, I WOULD eat my mattress right now.

Whew. Now that THAT'S over...

I did great today, not that you could tell by the above paragraph. OK, maybe "great" is stretching it. I did well enough. I had my now-normal breakfast of Honey Nut Cheerios, thanks to Selena (btw, Selena, I bought a brand new box of HNC at the grocery store today, and I'm bringing it into work on Friday). I had sushi for dinner. That's all well and good. BUT I didn't have lunch. That's not so good.

I didn't plan ahead like I should have. The Subway Diet...MY Subway Diet...has not gone as planned, due to knee/leg problems. But those problems seem to be fading away. So on Friday, I'm putting on my brand new pair of New Balance jet black tennis shoes, and I'm gonna hit that steep fuckin' hill all the way up to Subway. You see if I don't! I may not make it back down the steep fuckin' hill, but that's not the point!

Back to lunch. Or lack-of-lunch, as it were. As it were? Who the hell says that? OK, I'll admit it: I screwed the pooch in the lunch-al arena today. I did have some of those chips that say they have 1/2 a serving of vegetables inside. Does that count for something? OH, I also had four ginger snaps. I like ginger snaps. They're snap-a-licious. But they give me ginger-vitis. Ugh, I know, that was a bad one.

At 6:30pm, I met my friend Linda at an Overeaters Anonymous meeting off of Park Road. If OA has done nothing else for me over the years, it has taught me how to spell "anonymous", and for that I am grateful. Now if I could only spell "miscellaneous". Wait...I think I just did! Today's OA meeting was good. It was small enough that everyone got a chance to share a couple of times, instead of the large meetings I've been to where everybody's fighting for a chance to speak. I may actually go back next week. I got to share about my three (now four) days of sobriety, and also about my blog. No one really cared, but that's ok. I shared anyway.

It was at this meeting - after listening to people talk about their struggle, and how they've been attending OA meetings 5, 10, 20 years or more - that I realized the fact that my Addiction (let's call him Addie) was going to be living and breathing inside of my head for the rest of my life. Now, Addie won't have control over my every action like he has in the past. At least, that's my prayer. No, he won't be bossing me around forever, but he'll try. He certainly was trying to screw up my sobriety towards the end of the OA meeting:

"Now, Joey...you know damn well you're gonna stop at Taco Bell and get a number 5 combo. AND you're gonna get an extra burrito. AND you're gonna get one of those fruity drinks they're advertising right now."

Mmmmm...overeating right after the Overeaters Anonymous meeting. That sounds swell, Addie. That would be like hitting a McDonald's after a Weight Watchers meeting and eating my weight in double cheeseburgers. Which I have done on several occasions, don't kid yourself.

Guess what? Taco Bell started sounding mighty good by the end of that meeting. I was all ready to give in to ol' Addie tonight. But luckily, I had a date with Linda at the Harris Teeter. She was going to help me choose good food to have on hand at home, instead of living day to day on crappy cardboard pizza (that's right...I'm talking to YOU, Papa John). We shopped for about 45 minutes, which wore my ass OUT, I won't lie.

But when I exited that grocery store with a shopping bag full of healthy food, I was quite happy. I hugged Linda good-bye and drove home. I didn't stop at Taco Bell. Addie crept off to an unused corner of my brain, pouting like a child that's just been sent to bed without supper. Fine, let him. He's a real jerk, anyways.

I had sushi for dinner, along with two sugar free fruit-cicles. Could I have eaten more? Yes. Would it have made me feel better. No. So I made the right choice. I climbed into bed, cracked open the trusty old laptop, and typed up this minor opus for you'uns tonight. I don't want anything else to eat tonight. Tomorrow will be a brand new battle, but I'm ready to fight. I've been sober four days now. And it feels good. For the first time in a long time, I feel really, really good.

Three Days Sober

2008-06-25T15:03:00.005-04:00

Last night was K & W night with my uncle. We had a great, but brief, visit. The meal was pretty good, too! I had grilled chicken with grilled onions. For my sides I chose stir fried veggies and broccoli w/out cheese sauce. No dessert. I was kinda impressed with myself. How egotistical is that?

The K & W brings out all kinds of people…mainly all grades of old folks and fat folks. There was and elderly couple sitting at the table beside of us. They didn’t speak to each other one time during their meal. They both simply stared straight ahead, munching on their mac and cheese. It was kind of sad. But who am I to judge? Maybe that’s how they like things…nice and quiet. Personally, I love talking (big surprise), but I also enjoy listening to others. If we all would just shut up and listen to somebody else speak every now and then, think of all the juicy stuff we’d learn. Cuz people (some people, at least) really do LOVE to talk about themselves. This blog is living proof of that.

But this couple? They didn’t give two hoots or one holler about talking or listening. But from the looks of their plates, they didn’t really give a damn about eating, either. Perhaps they were merely using the K & W as an excuse to get out of the house, to escape from their humdrum existence of daily "Wheel of Fortune" re-runs. Would someone please shoot me in the head if I ever consider eating at the K & W the absolute highlight of my day?

After my uncle and I parted ways, I headed over to the 7PM Weight Watchers meeting. I didn’t know, really, if there was even going to BE a 7PM meeting. But I thought "What the hell? I'm already in the neighborhood." Turns out there wasn’t a meeting scheduled, but the 6PM meeting was just letting out. I asked the lady behind the desk if I could weigh, and she eventually relented and allowed me to hop up on the scales, normally considered my worst enemy. But this time, I had no fear. I knew the results would be less than favorable, but I just had to know how much I weighed.

Turns out, I’ve lost between 4 and 5 pounds since the last time I was weighed. I am so proud! I can’t wait to lose more weight. But more importantly, I am excited about feeling healthy. And I do feel healthy. I can’t wait to actually BE healthy. It’ll happen…any minute now…just wait for it…OK, maybe not. But soon. Very soon.

Oh, the Pain

2008-06-24T17:30:00.001-04:00

It’s amazing the things I have taken for granted for all of these years. My walking, for instance. Living with this arthritis (or "Arthur Wrongus", as my Uncle JT would call him) has been awful. I’ve never felt such pain, day after day. But strangely enough, it's been a blessing, too.

It has helped me realize and appreciate how lucky I was for so many years, being able to walk in a state of ignorant, pain-free bliss. Let me tell you, I am really looking forward to being able to walk in that same state again one day soon. In fact, right now it’s one of my major reasons for losing weight. The other health benefits (longer life, easier time breathing, normal sized heart, the ability to fornicate with the woman I love [you know who you are], etc.), ok, they’re important too. But this pain thing? I’m gonna go out on a limb and throw a universal truth your way: PAIN SUCKS MAJOR ASS! I am NOT a fan.

A friend of mine had gastric bypass surgery about a year ago. She has lost over 200 pounds. She told me her knees were awful before the surgery. Now that she’s lost the weight, she said her knees are 100% better. I can’t explain how exciting that is for me. My father used to tell me, over and over again, “Watch out for them knees…”and I didn’t. I thought I was invincible, immortal and unbreakable. Turns out I am NONE of those things. DAMNIT! It just ain’t fair!

Right now I’m living la vida loca with the help of a big-time anti-inflammatory pain killer (Advil? I point and laugh at your petty Advil, my friend) and cortisone. But I can’t do that forever. It’s not good for me. So I’m gonna add it to my list of “The Top 300 Reasons Why Joey Needs to Calm The Hell Down When It Comes To Overeating and Not Exercising”.

Damn, I may need to expand the list, because I’m gonna be hitting the 300 ceiling before you know it.

On Wednesday, I’ll be going to Overeaters Anonymous, then off to the Hairy TeeTee (my uncle’s words, not mine) with a friend to do some so-healthy-it’ll-probably-kill-me shopping. I’ve done the OA thing before, but I definitely didn’t give it my all. Hell, I didn’t even give it my “some”. I look forward to the meeting, and especially for the shopping session afterwards. I just pray the pain in my leg doesn't overcome the hope in my heart. My bad leg (especially my knee) has kept me from grocery shopping on a regular basis for almost six months. But I believe that tomorrow is the first of a great many more trips to the grocery store to buy healthy food.

Now if I can only keep myself from eating most of the healthy food all at once, once I get home…

2008-06-24T12:28:00.006-04:00

Two days sober. I can’t believe it! And it hasn’t been all that difficult, either. HA, just kidding. It’s been REALLY hard!

But it’s been worth it, too.

I did not, however, do my “Subway Diet” yesterday, and will probably not do it today. The walking part of it, anyway. After my big tumble last Thursday, things are a LOT more sore than normal. I can’t wait to be able to walk semi-normally again!

While driving home last night after work, I stopped at Ginbu 401 and ordered the stir-fried garlic style dish (w/tofu, broccoli, water chestnuts, bell peppers, and mini-corn-on-the-cobs-that-probably-have-a-proper-name-but-I-don’t-know-what-in-hell’s-name-it-could-be-so-I’ll-just-call-it-mini-corn-on-the-cob-for-now). For my sides, I ordered the brown rice and a veggie roll. No junk food before or after, I might add. Damn, it was good. AND good for me. Protien? Check. Veggies? Check. Fried rice? Nope. So yum to the tum.

But could I have done better? Of course, I could have. Thanks for asking, ASS! Oops, that just slipped out (that’s what SHE said).

To begin with, there was entirely too much food for one person. Next time I order, and there will be a next time, I’m going to split the order in half and eat half now, and half either later in the evening, or for lunch the next day. Also, I will ask them to go lighter on the oil. My body needs the oil, but they don’t need to overdo it so. And lastly, and this might be the most painful good-bye I’ll say today, but no fried roll of any kind (egg roll, spring roll, shrimp roll, hot-buttered-sweet roll, etc.). I looooooooove egg rolls, but they’re just not worth the calories.

So yes, there are improvements that need to be (and will be) implemented. But this is not about perfection, because there IS NO SUCH THING AS perfection. Not when it comes to people and the things we do, say or create anyways. This is about stepping up to the challenge of good health. And I’m stepping up, by God. And soon, I’ll be stepping out, too. I get giddy just thinking about it.

Tonight I’m meeting my uncle at K & W Café du Crap-aé, and it will be up to me to choose wisely. Is that even a possibility at K & W? We were going to meet at Juliana’s, known around the Manning House as “our favorite restaurant” (I’m an honorary Manning, and proud of it!). It’s gonna be a short visit, but a good one.

In truth, the hardest part about tonight will be the same as any other night: Ignoring my inner-saboteur and not finding an excuse to binge after I eat my real meal at K & W. I know I won’t “want to” eat. But what I “want to” do and what I “do do” (must…resist… urge…to make…poop joke) are two different things. It’s all about choices.

So keep your fingers crossed. And while you’re at it, keep your legs crossed, too. You dirty bird…

Let's Hear It for the Boy!

2008-06-22T22:16:00.003-04:00

That's right, everybody cut everybody cut Foot-LOOSE, cuz I done good to-DAY!

Breakfast: Bowl of grits with cheese and butter. That's right, I had cheese and butter! On top of a ground corn product. It's called DAIRY people! And boy howdy those grits was gooooooooooooooooooooooooood.

Lupper: Wendy's 10 DEEP FRIED chicken nuggets with one container each of bbq and honey mustard sauce, plus 1/2 an order of small fries and a small unsweet tea (sure, today's "small" equals the "large" order 30 years ago, but that's neither here nor there).

"But Joey", you say "them nuggets wuz fried! And FRENCH FRIES! I don't think you done so good...'scuse me, so WELL."

That's right, that's how you talk. In my head.

"O ye Judgie McJudgers, that food filled me up reeeeeeeeeeeal niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice, and I have not binged on anything in 24 hours, and I am very proud, so don't rain on my parade lest I sit on thee whilst not wearing my superman underoos!"

Yep, that would certainly leave a stain...I get violent when I think I'm hungry.

Seriously, I am very happy with what I ate today. No veggies? Sure, you're right. But portion-wise, I did great. I'm gonna sneak some veggies in there tomorrow, and do even better!

OK OK, I'm calm, I'm calm...I'm fine. A bit on the rambling side, but still...fine. Now as far as tomorrow goes, it is the first day of my new Subway diet, the one Subway won't hire me to advertise so's I can make a million dollars. Apparently, I need to lose the weight first. In the immortal words of Burlene: What-EVER! Yes, Burlene made that up. She perfected it, anyway.

Last night, not so good. Half a pizza, and half an order of cheesesticks. Damn you, Papa John's! Damn you and your delicious pizza! Actually, the pizza sucked, and I won't be ordering it again for a loooooooooooooooong time. I'm not gonna sweat it, though. That was Saturday. This is Sunday. And on Sunday, I did well.

Man, I can't WAIT 'til Monday!

PS: One more song for you

An Ugly Win, But a Win Just the Same

2008-06-21T10:28:00.007-04:00

I did great last night! No dinner whatsoever. OK, so maybe that's not great. But hey...NO FAST FOOD / JUNK FOOD! HOORAY! I'm so excited, can you tell?

I can't take all of the credit, though. I received a wonderfully positive e-mail from a college friend who works as a life coach, helping people achieve their goals, fix their life, etc. I know she's good at what she does, because by the time I finished reading her e-mail, I was ready and rarin' to take on the world!

However, it turned out that her life-affirming words were but a temporary fix for a life-long problem...

Yes, I did indeed try to screw things up for myself last night. In fact, I found myself working REALLY hard at it. I tried to order entirely too much pizza-type food online from at least three different pizza chains. Luckily, I didn't have enough cash, I didn't have any credit cards on me, and none of them would accept a check. There was no way for me to pay for my private pig-out party. So I went foodless. Which was reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally tough. But the payoff is no guilt, no guff and no gut.

So allow me to rephrase: I did great last night, despite my best efforts to sabotage myself into a gluttonous pool of shame, guilt and flatulence.

It's not the prettiest "win" in the world, but it's a win, and I'll take it. I just won't take any credit for it. Between my friend's e-mail and the fact that God somehow miraculously worked His way into the internets and screwed with all of my enabler websites (Papa Johns, Domino's and Pizza Huts, I'm talking to YOU!), I was meant to live through the night without my security blanket. Which is good, because in this case it would have been covered in cheese, tomato sauce and pepperoni, with a cup of garlic dipping sauce on the side.

My worst enemy? You're reading his blog right now! But I'm doing OK today. I'm working on one day of sobriety. Can I make it to two?

Why, yes...yes I can.

Missing the Point

2008-06-20T19:25:00.004-04:00

Got an e-mail from Subway today. It went a little something like this:

Dear Mr. G:

Thank you for taking the time to contact SUBWAY Headquarters.

In response to your question SUBWAY does not offer a diet program.

The diet so frequently associated with SUBWAY was done by a customer on his own. You can read about him and others by visiting our website at www.subway.com and clicking on "All About Jared" under the Menu/Nutrition tab.

Again, I appreciate you taking the time to contact us. SUBWAY looks forward to your continued visits.

Sincerely,

XXXXXXXXXX
Customer Care Representative

Wow. Did they kinda miss the point of my original e-mail? Did I miss the point of my original e-mail? I thought I was just giving them a heads-up on a new big man ready to get thin and cash in, Jared-style. I guess not. I guess I was asking to join some kind of Subwait Watchers program. Too bad for me, cuz Subway does not offer any sort of diet program. DAMNIT! What am I going to do now?

I should not be so hard on the Subways. They probably get 100 e-mails like mine every day. So much so, that they decided to create a stock answer, insert-name-of-customer-here response email and attach some random customer service person's name to it. Hey, at least they tried for the personal touch.

If I am to steal Jared's job away from him, I need to move higher up the food chain, so to speak. I don't think I want his job that badly. All the money, all the glamour, all the sandwiches...I don't know if I'm ready for all of that. And besides, I want to get healthy on my terms, not anyone else's. But Subway, if you ever have a change of heart, and decide that yes, now is the time for a new spokesfattie, and that yes, Joey G is indeed the man for the job, you know where to find me. And they do to...I gave them my address, phone number and everything! So naive...

My own personal Subway diet is still on for Monday. Some friends tried to get me to start today. I laughed in their faces...HA! They (or more accurately I) will be lucky if they get me to start on Monday like I'm supposed to! HA, I tell you!

Until then, I've got boxes to unpack, trash to clean up, and a big weekend show to attend. I'm going to my dear old college alma mater to watch a reader's theater performance BY two special friends, and WITH some special friends.

I am one lucky guy!

To Climb to the Top, You've Got to Start at the Bottom

2008-06-19T23:37:00.004-04:00

Tonight I hit what I consider "rock bottom": I was at the fake Led Zep concert, cheering my heart out with the rest of the soccer moms and dads. I certainly enjoyed the first half of the concert, sitting with my young cousins and my aunt and uncle. At intermission, we all talked for a bit, and I decided I was too tired to stay for the second half. I said my goodbyes and headed out the side exit of the concert hall.

As I stepped out, I looked around and noticed a huge flight of stairs leading up to street level. I immediately thought "Oh, hell...how am I supposed to haul my fat ass up those steps?" What I failed to notice was the invisi-step leading down to the concrete below. I took a step, lost my footing, and down down down fell Joey G. It was a slo-mo moment. I could even hear myself scream at a slowed down speed: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

My cane went flying to the right of me, my flip flop went flying to the left, both just out of reach. I fell right on my bum left knee and shin. But the pain was not as excruciating as I thought it would be. Ah, but my pride? Bruised and battered around, but thank God no one saw me fall. The humiliation? Yeah, the humiliation was floating around in a cloud of shame, hovering just over my head.

Nothing was broken though. I said a quick prayer, thanking God for that fact. But what was I supposed to do now? Should I call my uncle's cell phone? He was just beyond the door, right where I fell. To be sure he and a couple of hefty men could help lift me up, right?

Speaking of which, how come no one saw my fat ass fall right out of the theater? How did they miss that moment of personal grace? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. None of them could have helped me up. Not without causeing me more humiliation and embarrasment.

So there I was, sitting down on the filthy concrete, wondering to myself "How the f#ck am I gonna stand up and get outta here?" I looked towards the stairs leading up to street level. If i could just get over to those stairs. But HOW? I can't stand, I can't slide, maybe I can't even walk? What do I do?

That's when I get the bright idea: I was about to go for a nice ROLL.

I love a good roll. You see, when I was a kid (OK, young adult. High School age, ok?), I would take any and every opportunity to roll down an big hill I could find. Just roll...uncontrollably...in front of God and everyone. I did not care who saw me. I loved the feeling of freedom, the feeling of "Oh God, I am SO not in control right now", and of course the attention it garnered me was always nice. What High School kid loves to roll around in the grass? And WHY? Maybe because northeastern NC (where I grew up) had NO HILLS to speak of (coastal sand dunes don't count), and I just got excited when I saw one. Who knows? Who cares? Not me...I just know it was FUN!

OK, back to the 35 year old me, sitting all alone, flip flops and canes scattered throughout the land, deciding "Hey, this would be a great time to get back into the ROLLLING business!" So I laid down right where I was, not caring how filthy the concrete was at that moment, or how new my shirt and pants were. I laid down, took a deep breath, (yep, should have done that in reverse order) and rolled about four or five times to the stairs. I then grabbed the railing, and hoisted myself up to a standing position. It wasn't easy. It took a couple of tries...painful tries, I might add.

But I got up. That's the important thing. I walked over, picked up my cane and slipped my unpedicured foot into my flip flop, and slowly walked up the stairs...slowly, step by step. I hobbled to my car, sat down, turned on the engine and got the a/c running. When I cooled off and calmed down, I proceeded to call my mom and tell her all about her baby boy busting his bum by the stairs. She was wonderful as usual, talking me down, making me feel mo' better.

It's funny how easily I forget how quickly life can go from "All is Well" to "All is Hell" in a mere matter of seconds. I should have learned this fact of life after my sister Meredith died. We are in no way guaranteed happiness, we are in no way guaranteed ANYTHING in this life. I thought of this as I hung up the phone after talking with my mother. And I cried. I cried so hard, sitting in my car in the middle of a parking lot in the not-so-great part of town. I cried, wondering how things had gotten this bad, and why I had wasted over 10 years of precious life eating instead of living.

I quit crying. I realized I had a choice. I could choose to drive home, to not stop at a fast food joint and eat my sorrows away. I could prove to myself and to the world that I had learned something after my fall. I had learned that bad things can happen to good people on the turn of a dime (wow, how manly cliches can I cram into one sentence?), and I am strong enough to quit slowly dying and get busy living.

Or I could do what I always do: Set my car on autopilot and head down Sharon Amity to the nearest Fast Food Crack House to drown my sorrows in processed food. I knew the choice I had to make. I knew the right thing needed to be done, and by God I was the man to do it! And I drove straight home, got out of my car, walked directly to my door, and proceeded to find five dollars!

HA, I'm just kidding. I went to Taco Bell and got the #4 combo (Mexican Pizza, plus two tacos w/lettuce, cheese beef and sour cream) with a large Fruit Punch. Oh wait...there's more: I added a beef and cheese burrito and 2 caramel apple fried shit-things. Yes. It was a proud moment, to be sure. I got home stripped down to a t-shirt and underwear, and proceeded to shovel shit down my throat. In no time, I had finished my "meal". I looked around for more food, but I had eaten it all. Suddenly the pain and humiliation I felt after my fall came rushing back. The food hadn't helped at all. I slowly slumped down on the sofa and softly slurped my soda. I was completely, utterly miserable.

And THAT, my friends, is when I knew I had hit rock bottom.

But NOW...now it's time to lie down, take a deep breath, and roll to the nearest railing. I'm going to hoist myself up from this place called "rock bottom". Right now, I'm brushing myself off and cleaning my self up: I'm getting ready for a new day to dawn. I can't wait for that new day, filled with new prospects and possibilities. Will I walk the straight and narrow today? Will I make the right food (and life) choices? Hell, will I even wake up? I'm not making any promises. I have a tendency to break promises. But I'll save that for another post...

Time for bed. I've hit bottom. Tomorrow, I start the long climb up to the tippity-top.

I'll see you when I get there!

UPDATE

It's the next day, my leg feels ok, and I had my cereal for breakfast! I'm getting ready to have a healthy lunch at Mama Ricottas. Thanks to all who've read and come at me with support and suggestions. Life is GOOD!

Subway: EAT FRESH! (& then blog about it)

2008-06-19T14:29:00.010-04:00

OK, here's the plan:

I'm starting my own Subway diet, and I'd like to share it with you all. Beginning Monday June 23rd, I will:

Walk to and from Subway every work day for a little exercise

Order a “healthy” footlong sandwich combo, with yogurt, baked chips or fruit as a side, and with a diet drink or water as a beverage

For lunch, eat ½ of the sandwich and drink the beverage

For afternoon (3pm?) snack, eat the yogurt/chips/fruit

For dinner, have the other ½ sandwich, with a bowl of low-sodium, healthy soup.

That’s my Subway diet plan in a nutshell. Sure, it’s gonna be tweaked a bit as days go by. Good plans often turn into better plans after a few adjustments and amendments, right?

BTW, here’s a copy of the letter I sent (in e-mail form) to Subway. I just clicked the “Comments” portion of their website, wrote this and sent it through the series of tubes that is the internet:

Hello. I am a ??? pound man who is getting ready to make a life change: I'm going to lose 300 pounds!

I am planning on making Subway a BIG part of my diet plan. Is Subway looking for a person to follow on their weight loss journey? If so, I'd like to "volunteer" for the job!

And yes, of course I'd like to make some $$$ from TV and print commercials along the way. I can only imagine how many e-mails of this type you have to weed through every day!

Money and a certain amount of fame are great and all, but what I'm really looking for are ways to inspire other obese people to join me on my life-changing (and life-affirming) journey. If you'd like, take a minute to look at my blog: http://jbg1972.blogspot.com/ to see where I'm coming from. If you're interested in my story, my journey, etc. (or if you have any suggestions on how to accomplish this seemingly impossible weight loss task), please let me know.

If not, I’d like to thank you for your time, your consideration, and offer a special heart-felt “thank you” for leading the way when it comes to nutritious fast food.

Sincerely,
Joe Griffin

What do you think? Crazy, huh? No harm in asking. I could be Jared’s new commercial co-star, you never know!

Today’s been a good day. Thanks to Selena D and an unknown milk donor, (they donated store-bought cow's milk, stop being gross!) I had some Honeynut Cheerios for b’fast, and thanks to Chris B I had a six inch turkey sub with some tasty veggie chips. I’m working the Led Zep tribute concert tonight, so there will be a big temptation to do the whole satanic drive-through thing afterwards. Taco Bell GO TO HELL! And I mean that in the nicest way possible.

More to come!

Eureka!

2008-06-17T12:47:00.004-04:00

I’ve discovered a diet secret that’s going to sweep the nation! I’ll trust my secret with you, dear reader, hoping that you won’t betray this trust by sharing my secret with others. After all, somebody’s gonna have to buy the inevitable book so’s it’ll become a bestseller, right?

So what’s this great secret? It’s the “Don’t Eat Anything That’s Bad For You” diet. That’s right, simply cut out all of the unhealthy foods from your diet, and before you know it, you’ll be skinny skinny skinny! It’s easy and FUN! FUN, I TELL YOU! DO NOT QUESTION ME! STOP EATING CRAP, YOU FAT BASTARD! IF YOU BACK TALK ME ONE MORE TIME, I SWEAR TO JUMPIN' JEHOSEPHAT I’LL…

Whoa. Where did Sarcasmo the Sarcastic Superhero come from, eh?

OK, so I haven’t done a very good job of keeping this blog up to date. I was pondering that fact last night, after eating two suppers back-to-back. Yes I said two suppers. A couple of reasons, I think: One, writing is hard work. Good writing is even harder. Yes, I do believe that at least some of these blog entries could be considered “good writing”. I’m a cocky bastard, sue me. But it is difficult and tiring, baring one's soul day after day. I know, Poor Poor Pitiful Me.

Two, it is REALLY difficult being totally honest about my addiction and eating habits, since most of them have been kept secret for so long. Do you have any skeletons in your closet? If so, would you like to discuss them in an open forum such as this? If so, start your own blog! I promise I'll read it, just like you're reading mine.

Thankfully, my friends and family have all been supportive. No one has judged me too harshly, even though they now know I can eat an entire cow at one sitting. It is sometimes hard to hear everyone’s suggestions: “Move more”, “Eat less”, “Don’t eat this”, “Do eat that”, “Stop looking at porn”, etc. But I started this blog as a way to get a dialogue going, and that’s precisely what it’s done. If it’s hard hearing some of the suggestions offered, so be it. I'm a big boy, I can take it.

I want to be healthy. But in order to succeed in my health quest, my life has to change a full 180 degrees (not 360 degrees, which basically puts me right back where you started). That is the most difficult part of keeping this blog up-to-date: It's a constant reminder of all of the work and sacrifice that lie ahead. True Success means changing almost every aspect of my life. My life may not be perfect, but damnit I’m sorta used to the dysfunction. The food and overeating combined become a security blanket that keeps me cozy and warm. It's gonna be tough giving that up totally. But that’s what I have to do. But taking that jump, that giant leap…man, is it tough.

Enough talking. Enough writing. Time for a little doing. Tonight I get to have dinner at Cantina 1511 with my aunt, uncle and cousins. What will I order? Whatever it is, it will be low on fatty meats and goopey sauces, and high on the veggie/fiber/lean meat counter. My life change starts today, right now, this minute. And it will continue on a minute-by-minute, day-by-day, blog-by blog basis for awhile. That’s just how it's got to be.

More to come...

Better late than never?

2008-06-16T09:55:00.002-04:00

OK, so I didn't show at 9AM. But I did get here at 9:40am. Without a cereal bowl. So I figured "OK, I'm not going to be doing the whole cereal thing today. I'll do it tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day" (Just call me Scarlett O'Griffin).

But then a friend steps in. Selena walks up and asks "Whatcha eatin', Joe?"

"Pretzels" I reply, bits of pretzel flying out of my mouth as I do.

"Why aren't you eatin' your cereal?"

"I don't have a bowl."

"Well, I've got a bowl. There's milk in the refridgerator. Go in there and get you some cereal."

So I did. Friends are something, aren't they?

Remind me to tell you the story about my friends and my car. It's going to be the last of my "Clutter" posts.

Thank you Selena!

Getting Back on the Horse

2008-06-16T01:00:00.003-04:00

My motto has always been: "If at first you don't succeed, give up and go to McDonald's." Turns out that motto doesn't work to well if you want to live past the age of 40 (in my case, anyway). So it's time for a new motto.

How about "If you do happen to fall off the horse, how 'bout you stand up, brush yourself off, and git your fat ass back in the saddle, cuz we've got a long way to go and a short time to git there"? OK, I totally swiped that last part from "Smokey and the Bandit", but damnit if you're gonna steal, steal from the very best. All in favor? Yes? Great. That's my new motto.

Last week was kind of a bust. I didn't do well at all, and I was ashamed to write anything. I guess you could tell by my lack of blog entries, huh? Sure, I did ok some days, but for the most part it was business as usual. Get up, go to work, go home, eat enough for four people, look at porn, go to bed. Snore. Repeat. But last week is in the past. Time to look forward, no?

After all, it's a new week. New week, new chance to do right and eat right. On Monday, I'm gonna get to work at 9am and have myself come cereal (thanks to Selena). That's right, you heard it here first: Joey G's gonna have himself some BREAKFAST! Gosh, what's next? Multivitamins? Whoa, Johnny Mule (my mother's saying, not mine)...let's get ahead of ourselves. One crazy step-in-the-right-direction at a time.

Things are going to change, and this week is only the beginning. You just wait...

Good night!

And Now for Something Completely Different...

2008-06-11T16:30:00.000-04:00

This week I watched the 1976 film Network . It left me speechless...not the easiest thing to do, I'll admit.

In its time, Network was considered an extremely well acted, well-written satire. Watching it now, it looks more like a documentary, unfortunately. Take a few minutes and watch this monologue from the movie, admittedly doctored up a bit, but still effective (the original movie clip without all of the bells and whistles can be found here). If you're a Fox News fan, you might want to skip the first 42 seconds, because it makes fun of Mr. Charming himself, Bill "Shut Up" O'Reilly.

If you get a free minute (or four), please watch the video. Listen to the monologue. And be sure to remember it the next time you sit down to watch the evening news, or your favorite television show. Personally, I'm too much or a couch potato to go so far as to turn off the tv for good, forever and ever amen. But I'm going do my best to watch with an open mind. We all should. We can't believe everything the boob tube tells us. Lies, spins and cover-ups abound, I don't care who says otherwise.

And no, I'm NOT just talking about Fox News, either. Liberal Media...HORSE SHIT! ALL the major networks are guilty of manipulating, hiding or sexing up the news in one way or another. Don't believe me? Take a look at this clip from The Daily Show, one of the few news sources I actually trust. Frightening, if you ask me. Which you didn't, I realize.

OK, I'm done. Not trying to preach here...just trying to share.

Thanks for reading (and watching).

A Cluttered Life, Continued

2008-06-11T11:11:00.004-04:00

Warning! Warning! Warning!

The following is a continuation of a previous post that was deemed

"Touchy-Feelie-Verging-On-New-Age-y"

by a non-specific entity who should really mind their own damn business.

Also the word "clutter" is again used waaaaaaaaaaaay too often.

Proceed at your own risk...

Previously on A Cluttered Life

OK, where was I? Oh, yes. Believe you me, I do realize that the simple act of organizing my surroundings, and cleaning the clutter that has invaded my life, would indeed bring about all sorts of unimagined positivity and overall shiny-happy feelings. But when I stand back and look at all of the "stuff" that surrounds me - the boxes, the clutter, the floor of my room all scattered, smothered and covered - it all seems overwhelming. Too much to handle, even.

"Why start sorting through all of those boxes," I ask myself. "There's too many of them, I'll never finish! It's fine just where it is."

Or better yet: "Why bother cleaning this junked-up mess of a car? Nobody ever wants to ride with me anyway!"

"Oh really, Mr. Pitiful?" I chime in (oops, two-way conversation with myself in progress. Must've forgotten to take my meds). "Have you ever wondered exactly WHY no one wants to take a joyride with you in your junked-up mess of a car?"

"Uh, no."

"It's simple, really: There's no room for them IN the damned car! Who can fit into a car when its passenger side is all full-up with an ever-present mound of rotting fast-food bags, wrappers and cups, old cd's, books (on clutter), and various other items I haven't taken the time to either take inside or throw away.

True enough, Other Voice in My Head...true enough.

The same could be said for my life, specifically my LOVE life. Why have I lived the majority of my life without a significant other? To bring up an especially painful memory: Why did I spend one of the most special New Year's Eve's on record (12/31/1999) alone in my one-bedroom apartment eating pizza and watching the big stupid ball drop on "Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve" instead of watching (and creating) the fireworks that welcomed in a brand new decade (hell, a brand new CENTURY) with someone special? WHY?!

Because my mind, body and soul were too cluttered with emotional trash from the past. There just wasn't room for anyone else.

I'm afraid things haven't changed that much since then. There hasn't been room for anyone else in my world, not while Clutter is King, anyway. So selfish. And to make things worse, the emotional baggage that muddles my mind has manifested itself as excess weight. And let's face it, "Fat" "Lonely" and "Selfishly Shut Off" aren't attributes that usually make a woman's top ten list of "Things I Look for in a Man".

So fix it, my inner-Spock tells me. It's logical enough: Got a problem? Solve it! Your car's filthy? Clean it! Got emotional issues? Go see a shrink! You're fat? Back away from the table, Biggie! See, it's simple, really.

Yeah, right. Easier said than done, AssFace. Are complex emotional issues ever repaired that quickly, that effortlessly? Short answer: Sure, why not?

OK. But how, exactly?

That, dear readers, is an excellent question. But I'm afraid that we'll have to save any answers and explanations for another day. Even I sometimes tire of all this talk about me me me. Guess I'll finish solving this whole clutter cluster-f*ck catastrophe question sometime tomorrow. I'm not promising anything big, mind you. Because really, it's all about starting small. Baby steps, remember?

To be continued...

A Cluttered Life

2008-06-11T01:32:00.010-04:00

Warning! Warning! Warning!

The following post has been deemed "Touchy-Feelie-Verging-On-New-Age-y" by whoever the hell deems these kind of things in such a way. And What-Not.

Also the word "clutter" is used waaaaaaaaaaaay too often.

Proceed at your own risk...

The definition of "clutter" is simple enough: A confused or disordered state or collection; a jumble. While the word may be easy to define, its roots can be complex, its effects sometimes quite destructive. Many a book has been written on the subject of clutter: the psychological causes of it, how it can hinder people from living a full and fruitful life, what you can do to prevent / get rid of it, etc. Guess what? These books eventually become the very thing they're warning against: CLUTTER! Like all important self-help books, these anti-clutter, pro-organization wastes-of-a-good-tree eventually get thrown into a darkened corner of a room, left to gather dust for all eternity. Utterly useless, if you ask me. Did you ask me? No? Oh. My bad.

I hate clutter, but you wouldn't know it by looking at me, my surroundings and my overall "quality of life". It seems I'm allergic to organization of any kind. I am surrounded, engulfed and overwhelmed by clutter. I'm not sure why that is, exactly. I should know, because I bought a book on the subject. But I can't put my hands on it at the moment it. I lost it about a week after I bought it. I think I packed it away in an unlabeled box before I moved last July. Of course now I have absolutely no idea where that box is, because it's stacked underneath about ten other unlabeled boxes in a tiny storage unit that's chock-full of crap. Anyways, you didn't actually think I could fit all of those boxes into my car's junky trunk and back seat, did you? And even if I could have packed those boxes into my car, there's nowhere to store the boxes here in my condo. I mean, have you seen all of the trash and general mess that litters almost every inch of ...do you see where I'm going with this? No? Jeez, what is with you today?

I know there's a direct correlation between the clutter in my car and home and the the clutter in my mind, body and soul. When any and/or all of my "issues" decide they need a little attention and begin to clog up my brain, then sure enough my surroundings suffer the consequences: A candy bar wrapper here, an empty pizza container there, some boxer shorts hanging on the doorknob, and so on. You can imagine the trash that piles up after a few days. If left unchecked (and it usually is), the assorted piles of crap continue to grow, until eventually my home, my car, my desk at work all become a sort of mirror reflecting whatever inner turmoil I might be experiencing at the moment.

But on the other hand, if I am feeling cool, calm and collected, then my surroundings reflect that as well. At least, that's what I assume. I've never really been a cool, calm or collected type of fella. So in truth, I'm not really sure what my surroundings would look like if any of those peaceful, easy feelings were to actually come over me. If I find out, I'll let you know.

"Oh, Joey G" people are always randomly walking up and saying to me, "why don't you quit yer belly-achin' and just clean all of this shit up? You'd probably feel a whole lot better if you did. In fact, you might even get to enjoy a little inner peace in the process. Hey, I'm just sayin'."

Yes, those people usually get stabbed in the gut. Inner peace, my ass...

to be continued

Stay Fat Strategies

2008-06-10T16:11:00.008-04:00

No time to write right now. Have a look-see at these Stay Fat Strategies.

If the link above doesn't work, it's because I'm technically inept.

Today's been a good day: Tuna melt from Mama Ricotta's (it's towards the top of page 6). For my side, I chose the Mama's Relish (also on page 6, above the Tuna Melt description). Mmmmm...come to Mama!

Last night...ugh, let's not talk about last night. Suffice it to say that I woke up with a pasta hangover this morning. Tonight will be much mo' better.

Until later.

The Missing Link

2008-06-09T16:38:00.011-04:00

You may have noticed that there's something missing in most of my previous blog entries: Exercise. I’ve barely mentioned exercise at all...once maybe, in my very first entry. Why no mention of one of the most important aspects of healthy living? It's simple, really: Exercise is evil and must be destroyed. Exercise is painful. Exercise makes you hot and sweaty. Oh wait, now I’m getting kinda turned on. No. NO! Exercise is awful and I hate it.

OK, so I don’t have the healthiest attitude towards exercise. I’ve always been an “indoor” kind of guy. Never had much need for The Great Outdoors. And being an indoor person doesn’t do anyone any good when you live on a farm. As a kid, I had to be forced at gunpoint to mow both our lawn and my Mema's lawn, or do farm work of any substance. My poor Mama and Daddy. How did they get saddled with such a lazy son?

I’ve got to do something about my negative mindset. Sure I can lose a little weight by cutting down on my caloric intake. But I can never be truly healthy if I don’t give my body a good workout a few times a week. But right now, my bod’s in the worst shape ever. Yes, I’m so proud. The fact is it's truly a pain to exercise. So what’s a big man to do?

I’ll tell you what this big man’s gonna do: Shut up and exercise.

My friend Scott gave me a stretchy tourniquet-looking hose thingie that I’m supposed to use for resistance training. I guess it offers enough resistance to build up a muscle or two in my arms and legs, depending on what exercise I decide to do. He (along with a few other friends) had a great suggestion: As I’m sitting on my comfy couch watching TV, why not use my brand spankin' new Stretchy Tourniquet Looking Hose Thingie to do a little workout? Get the old ticker a-tappin'...the not-yet-enlarged heart a-pumpin'. I won't say exactly when (because God forbid I tie myself down to an actual schedule), but over the next five days, I’m going to exercise for an hour. That’s 60 minutes, for those of you who still listen to your old LP’s on cassette tapes (30 minutes per side, O ye children of the 80's). Of course I mean 60 minutes total over a five day period. That doesn’t sound like much exercise to you, huh? Well, it sounds like a hell of a lot to me, by gum.

It’s a start, at least. If I can stick to this, I can up it by 15 minutes next week, then 15 more the week after that. Pretty soon, I’ll be exercising every minute of every day! OK, slow down, Joey G. In the words of the lovely and talented Devon Marie: “Baby steps.”

Exercise. Ugh. I’m gonna do it, but I don’t have to like it. I will now and forever believe that Exercise was created in the depths of Hell by Satan himself.

Man, that Satan is such an asshole!

A Quick Thank You to YOU!

2008-06-09T12:23:00.003-04:00

Just a quick "thank you" to everyone who's read my blog entries, and especially to those who've taken the time to leave a comment or two. Everyone's support and advice is greatly appreciated. Please keep on reading and commenting. Your support inspires me to continue this journey.

OK..."journey" may be pushing it a bit. Right now it's more like "a weekend excursion". But I'll keep writing until my weekend excursion turns into a road trip. Then after months and months of travelling, my road trip will become an actual Weight Loss Journey.

I must say, I'm pretty content right now. I haven't written this much original (well, I like to pretend it's original) material in a long time. With your help, I'll keep it up.

(That's what she said.)

Thanks again!

jg

Do More = Eat Less

2008-06-08T23:30:00.004-04:00

Today is the first day since Thursday that I've felt good about what I've eaten. Yeah I know...the 3/4ths of a pizza I ate earlier. Shut up! I STILL feel good about what I've eaten today, pizza or no pizza!

Got back about an hour ago from my dinner and visit with Gina's mom and sister, all thrown together by my friend Nancy. We all went to Harper's by SouthPark mall, one of my favorite restaurants. I usually get the vegetable plate (which normally turns out to be 1/3 veggie, 2/3 starchie, so I wouldn't necessarily call it a "healthy choice" by any means). But this time, I decided to do the Southwest chicken breast w/avocado salsa, with a side of spicy black beans and rice. It was very good, and a much healthier choice than the veggie plate, I think. Top it off with several glasses of water (did I mention the SPICY black beans and rice?), and I ate goooooooooooooooooooooooood.

I realized something while I was having dinner with these dear people: It's hard to eat and talk at the same time. Sound stupid? Maybe. But if I didn't want to be rude (and who wants to be rude?), I couldn't eat as I normally would, constantly shoveling food in my mouth with no thought of the outside world. Otherwise, I'd be spitting kibbles and bits all over someone's face as I regaled the table with oft-told stories of my various sexual conquests. Either that, or else sit there staring and smack-smack-smacking my food while trying to listen to someone else talk. But God forbid I let someone else talk...

Eating with others, that's one way to fight the urge to splurge on food. By sharing a meal with friends/family/etc., you'll end up spending half your time talking, half your time listening, and half your time eating. That's three halves...what a meal! Mathematically impossible, you say? P'shaw, I say. I fart in the general direction of you and your math rules. One thing about this whole "eating with others" concept: Try not to surround yourself with like-minded over eaters. That might sabotage everything. Oh wait...I guess that rules out most of my major family functions. Sorry Mama, guess I won't be coming home for Christmas after all ;)

After a delicious dinner, we went to Irene's new home for a nice sit-down visit. We all talked and laughed for about an hour and a half. During that time, I did not once think "Hmmmm...I wonder if I have enough cash for a BK Stacker combo meal at Burger King" or "I should get gas at the Citgo station...they're having a 2-for-1 sale on pickled pigs feet". I was not obsessed with food while I was in the company of friends. At least not as much as usual. Plus, I felt good (or at least as good as I could) visiting my friend's grieving mother. I was doing something nice for someone else. And like all "good deeds", they usually end up helping the good deed-er as much as they help the good deed-ee. At least, I know it's true in this particular case.

So by going out and doing, I was saved from a night of staying in and eating. Because that's what I do, people. I would think you were getting a sense of that by now. But you're lucky, cuz I won't be getting into the whole "food addict" side of things right now, as I don't fully understand it. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I want to understand it. Not yet, anyway.

All I know is that I am a food addict. And from here on out, I want to be known as a recovering food addict. No more excuses. My goal for tomorrow: one full day without a food binge. One day, 24 hours, of sobriety.

Say a little prayer for me, would ya?

The Truth

2008-06-08T17:46:00.004-04:00

I have been trying to come up with something to write for about half of an hour. False starts and failed posts abound. I know why I haven't come up with anything good. I'm trying to gloss over the fact that I haven't done too well this weekend. I haven't been honest about my eating, even though i said I would be.

On Friday night, I not only ate one fun pack of Snickers, but I also ate one fun pack of Reece's cups and another fun pack of baby ruth's. I was sick as a dog, and didn't fall asleep 'til 3A.M.

At 7A.M. Saturday morning, I woke up to go to the Special Olympics in Raleigh. At 7:20, I got a call from my Uncle telling me the Special Olympics were called off. I was already up, and I was still feeling a bit queasy from the previous evenings chocolate indiscretions, so it wasn't too hard to squelch all of the "Hey, let's go to McDonald's and order two Mega-Breakfasts and eat ourselves into a greasy coma" thoughts that began racing through my mind.

I went back to bed (hey, sue me for being a bachelor with no kids!), and woke up about noon (ok, so I'm a lazy bachelor with no kids). I got up, got dressed and proceeded to order $20 worth of take out Chinese food. I ordered General Tso Chicken, Chicken w/cashew nuts, and two count 'em TWO orders of crab rangoons. Each meal included two heaps of fried rice and one egg roll. I ended up eating ALL of the crab rangoons, both egg rolls and half of the General Tso plate. I put the rest (including the untouched chicken w/cashews) in the fridge. All in all, not my worst binge day by any stretch of the imagination. But I could have done a LOT better.

Today is Sunday, and so far I've eaten 3/4 of a large pizza from Papa John's. Tonight I'm going to Harper's to eat with my late friend Gina's mother, who has been having a tough time since her daughter's death this past January. In fact, I've got to go get ready right now. Wish me luck.

I'll do my best to keep things honest in the future. I have to. I have to have some accountability for my actions.

Thanks for reading. Until later...

The Master Cleanse

2008-06-07T13:26:00.005-04:00

The Master Cleanse is a 10-day detox program that consists of several servings of a special lemonade concoction, along with a salt-water "flush" in the morning, and a herbal laxative tea at night. So yes, The Master Cleanse is secret code for "Poop Your Brains Out".

I'm going to begin The Master Cleanse in a couple of weeks. I'm quite nervous about it. I've read a couple of online journals of people chronicling their 10 days on the Cleanse. They were both very positive. But as my go date slowly approaches, I'm going to do a bit more research. This blog I found seems like a good place to start. Thank you, Google Search!

I have never gone for more than a day without food. Why the hell would I? I've gone on one "successful" diet, and that was back in 8th grade. I managed to lose about 90 pounds, and also lose most of my hair. Note to self: Starvation perhaps NOT the best method of weight loss. But that was over a 5 month period. The Cleanse is only over 10 days. So I'm not too concerned over the whole "How the hell is your body supposed to get vitamins, protien and other fun things it needs to survive" medical argument. Vitamins, schmite-amins. What I'm worried about is the fact that I haven't missed a meal in 20 years. How the hell am I supposed to survive 10 days on Country Time lemonade, warmed up ocean water and tea? UNSWEET TEA, for that matter! What kind of Southerner am I? No fried food, no sweet tea...what next, no NASCAR? Actually, that would be ok.

So nothing in my recent past indicates that I will successfully complete this cleanse. And that's exactly why I want to do it. I want to succeed. Throughout my life, I have always taken the path of least resistance, or "the easy way out". I've let my parents complete elementary school projects for me instead of doing them myself. I've only accepted full time jobs that have fallen into my lap. When relationships have become difficult, or when my trust issues have reared their ugly rears, I've chosen to run away instead of face the difficulty. This cleanse is about flushing the physical muck that's built up inside of me. But maybe it'll help flush out a bit more than the physical. Maybe it'll break down and flush out a few mental barriers I built up oh so many years ago.

This cleanse is also about me setting a goal for the first time in a long, long time. I want to reach this goal. And afterwards, I want to make new goals. I want to succeed. I'm tired of self-imposed failure. The Cleanse is but a small step at the beginning of a great big journey. But a guy's gotta start somewhere.

I mean, it's just 10 days, right? What harm could it do? Hopefully, I'll poop all my troubles away, day after day. And after those 10 days are up, I'll figure out where to go from there.

In the meantime, my big challenge will be not to return to my "Oh crap, I'm starting a diet tomorrow! I'd better try to eat my weight in fried chicken dipped in gravy tonight, or else!" What kind of person thinks like that?

Um...that would be me.

Old Habits Die Hard

2008-06-06T21:32:00.006-04:00

My first failure. I promised to be brutally honest about my eating. So here it goes:

I just ate 8 mini Snickers bars.

DAMNIT!

I dropped by Rite Aid (aka "The Candy Store") to get some kitty litter. I walked by the candy aisle, knowing damn well that stuff would call out to me like a tom cat in the night, looking for a lay. And oh, what do you know? They're on SALE! Why thank you, Satan, I believe I'll buy a pack.

Why did I eat them? 'Cuz I bought them. Why did I buy them? Why indeed. Pure-T sabotage. I do it to myself all of the time.

It's not like I don't know what I'm doing. I'm a fairly well-educated fella. But "knowing" and "education" mean nothing to me when I'm on the prowl for a food fix. When I'm buying food I know is bad for me, I go into this numb place, kinda like an out-of-body experience. I'm physically buying the poison I'm about to put into my body, but spiritually I'm on another plane. I'm like a robot doing what I'm programmed to do: buy crappy food, eat crappy food.

And when I get the poison home and sit in front of the tube of boob, the robot kicks in again. I mechanically eat and eat and eat. And it feels soooooooooooooooo gooooooooooooooooooood, while the food lasts. But then, as always, the food eventually runs out. And when it does, I suddenly wake up. And there I am, on my couch...alone. Oh wait, scratch that. I'm actually not alone...I'm hanging out with my good friend Mr. Guilt. "Why did I eat that?" "What was I thinking?" "I feel sick" are just some of the phrases I turn over and over in my mind. It's been that way for years now.

I'm not going to go into the why's right now. I'll save that for a therapy session somewhere down the road. This is not the last time I fall off of the wagon. But over time, it will happen less and less. Tomorrow I am off to Raleigh to watch my cousin run in the Special Olympics. I will be with my family, and I will be watching some inspirational athletes compete for medals. After my setback today, I'll need some inspiration.

Yep, old habits die hard. But let's face it, I could have done a lot worse. In the future, though, I'm looking forward to doing a whole lot better.

WELCOME!

2008-06-06T12:20:00.003-04:00

Hi all!

I've bombarded all of my Facebook, MySpace and e-mail friends with invites to view the new blog. If you have any comments, questions, or if you want to share your own story or struggles with weight loss and weight management, please do so. Right now this is a very self-involved blog, and I'd like to incorporate some input from others as time goes on.

I had another delicious coffee and pills breakfast today. I'm meeting my friend NCB at Mama Ricotta's for lunch (what can I say, it's a convenient place to eat), and I've already decided on the pasta primavera w/garlic and extra virgin (like me) olive oil and one garlic roll. Watch out vampires, here comes stinky Joey.

I am looking forward to the weekend. It's going to be quite the test of strength. Will I go over to the dark side and try to eat my weight in double stuff'd oreo's, or will I be "good" and try to keep things light? Oooo the suspense is killing me...

Until later!

Let Me Win

2008-06-06T00:01:00.005-04:00

"Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt."

Yep...That pretty much says it all.

Don't get me wrong, I want to win my personal Weight War. I want to weigh 180 pounds once in my adult life. But to say "Failure is not an option" is pretty stupid at this juncture. Up until now, failure's been my only option. Not anymore. But what if I don't reach my goal weight? Does that mean I don't win?

Nope.

Every ounce I lose is a small victory...a "win". Every ounce I gain is a minor setback. It doesn't mean I've failed. As long as I don't give up, as long as I keep fighting this Weight War of mine, I'm living the "let me brave in the attempt" part of that special quote from the Special Olympics.
For dinner tonight, I had a large and meaty Stromboli (does that sound dirty to you?) from Fuel Pizza, along with a Miller Lite. It was all rather tasty. But as I drove home afterwards, the only thing I could think about was "OK...where should I stop for Supper, Part Deux?" Taco Hell? McDonald's? Burger Queen? What was the quickest, tastiest way to sabotage my day of (relatively) healthy eating? Driving down Central Avenue, an endless list of fast food dives scrolled through my brain. Every place I passed, I came up with a reason not to pull in. Finally, I approached the street leading into my condo development. Before you could say "Two All Beef Patties Special Sauce Lettuce Cheese Pickles Onions on a Sesame Seed Bun", I pulled into my development, drove up to my condo and walked right in.

WITHOUT a bag of fast food death in my hand. Score one for the Big Man!

On a normal day, I would have stopped at one of those evil fast food joints and gotten a sack full of buttered crud (special sauce on the side) to stuff in my ever-hungry mouth. But today, I didn't. No sir. Today, I won a very small victory. But really, it's all about the small victories. Put a bunch of 'em together, and what do you get? One Big Win! Here's hoping for many more small victories. And when the victories feel few and far between, here's hoping for a little bravery to get me through!

Thanks for reading.

First Day, Rest of Your Life, Blah Blah Blah

2008-06-05T14:22:00.011-04:00

First thing I need to change: I gots to start eating breakfast. Some yogurt, cereal, something. Right now my breakfast consists of coffee and pills. Breakfast of champions.

Breakfast: 16 oz. of coffee with 2 Sweet 'n' Lows and 2 servings of 1/2 and 1/2.

If I'm gonna to do this whole Lemonade Cleanse, I'll need to ween myself off of caffeine. I'm also going to have to stop taking my pills, which include an anti-depressant and an anti-inflammatory pill for my knee. I'm a little worried about that, I have to admit. I can just see myself hobbling along inside my condo, depressed and in pain. To quote my cousin Martha Anne: "FUN CITY!!!" Also, can I (or should I) try to take a multi-vitamin whilst on this cleanse? I can't wait for the books (and the DVDs) to arrive so's I can get started.

I want to start the cleanse on June 21st. That should give me enough time to safely stop taking my drugs, and it gives me the weekend to get my body used to the whole concept of "system flush". Word to the wise: Stay out of my way that weekend. It's gonna be hard to fight my normal urge to eat everything and everyone in sight during the weekend, but with careful planning, I can do it. I assume it'll be like quitting smoking, only with more anger and violence on my part. Maybe I should warn my roommate. He might want to lock his cats up for a week or so, just in case I get a little too hungry...

In the meantime, I can go ahead and my ingredients for the cleanse, so I can be ready to go. My expectations are pretty high for this whole detox thing, can you tell?

Lunch

2 svgs of steamed white rice

2 svgs of broccoli in brown sauce

one egg roll with 1 pkt of hot mustard

1 pkt of duck sauce (now made with 100% natural duck)

Having dinner tonight with my writing partner. We'll probably go to Mama Ricotta's Italian restaurant. I'll try to keep it to one dinner roll (with their special oil and hot pepper "dip") and some relatively healthy pasta primavera. The question of the evening: Will I choose a creamy (or in my boss' words "goopy") cream sauce or a healthier marinara sauce. I'm quite the fan of goop, so I think I already know which sauce I'm choosing.

At dinner we're going to go over a few show ideas. They're his ideas for stage musicals. All of my ideas are film scripts. Some people want to write the Great American Novel. I want to write the Great American Lifetime Movie of the Week. Another reason I'm excited about "the cleanse" is that I'm hoping I'll get a bit of writing done. I'm so used to coming home from work and vegging out in front of the TV. I love nothing more than simply watching "The Daily Show" and "The Colbert Report" back to back, all the while attempting to eat my weight in Pizza Hut Pasta (kids, just say NO!). Since I won't be eating, I don't think I'll be watching too much TV. I'll need to stay busy somehow. Hopefully, that means I'll be writing...a LOT.

The question is, will it be worth reading and/or acting out? We shall see...

If it is to be...

2008-06-05T00:09:00.011-04:00

Yep...I'm the "Big Man" in the middle

Hi ya.

My name is Joey G., and I have an eating disorder...that is to say, I am an expert at eating entirely too much food at one sitting. I have a weight problem, OK? I have been fat since childhood, probably around 4 - 5 years old. Around the same time I discovered the many joys of McDonald's, I guess.

Over time, I have let my weight (and food in general) define me. I have lost interest in people, places and things that were once dear to me. I can barely walk, and when I do walk, I have to use a cane due to severe arthritis in my left knee. My friends look at me with pity, strangers look at me with disgust. My life has become a joke. I've got a great sense of humor and all, but this is one joke that ain't so funny.

Do I feel sorry for myself? Yeah, I guess. But this blog is NOT going to turn into a pity party. Instead, I want to inspire myself to do great things. Well, one great thing:

I want to lose 300 pounds

In the words of Canadian poet Keanu Reeves: Whoa...

Yes, I want to inspire myself into losing 300 pounds. And when I'm feeling too sad or too weak to inspire myself, I want to seek out inspiraton from elsewhere. Friends, books, the internet, the Holy Trinity of Star Wars Episodes 4 - 6, etc. I want to be able to climb a flight of stairs again. I want to be able to walk along the beach and not worry about how gross I look in shorts, or whether or not I'll take a tumble in the surf. I want to be able to take my girlfriend and...ok, that's none of your business, really.

Yep, this is going to be some journey. And every great journey should begin with some sort of road map, right? Where's my map? What's my plan? First, I'm going to keep a log of everything I eat. I'm going to be brutally honest...if I ate it, it'll be on the list. Second, I'm going to detoxify my body. God only knows what kind of poisonous crap is living and dying inside of me. If the body is supposed to be a temple, then consider mine "The Temple of Doom". I've ordered two books: The Master Cleanser and The Complete Master Cleanse to help me get started on my journey. They sound detoxifantastic. I've also ordered two DVDs (The Crucible and The Commitments), but that's because I wanted to get free Super Saver Shipping for orders $25 or over from amazon.com. Yes, a guy could go broke implementing a brilliant strategy like that...

And finally I'm going to start eating less and exercising more. That's right, you heard it here first. You see, I have this theory: If you eat less and exercise more, you'll lose weight. WOW! I know, right? Crazy talk...anyhoo-hoo, that's my plan in three easy steps. Write down what I eat and when I eat it, detoxify all of the quarter-pound cheeseburgers lodged in my colon, and put into play my crazy "eat less/exercise more" theory. Watch out world! No seriously, watch out world...this whole colon cleanse/detoxification thing may backfire, and you do NOT want to be blocking the path between me and the bathroom if it does.

So today, June 5th 2008, is the first day of my health-kick journey. I'm gonna need a lot of help...from my family, my friends, my God, etc. Lucky for me, I'm covered on all three fronts. A wise man once told me "If it is to be, it is up to me." If I'm going to get healthy, it's going to be up to me. Things have to change, and I'm the one who has to change them. No one else can do it for me. Believe me, everybody's tried. Now it's my turn to try. Another wise...um...thing (a little green Jedi named Yoda) once said "Do, or do not. There is no 'try.'" So I'm not going to "try" anymore, Yoda. I'm going to "do" instead.

I'll let you know how things turn out...