I'm ba-ack!!!

275 days ago, I published my last posting on my blog.  On September 18, 2011, I got up, went to work, went to the bathroom, ate way too much food for one human and then did not write another word.

What happened?  Where did I go?  And, most importantly, what did all of you find to read for these past 275 days???  Nothing as exciting as my blog I am sure.

For me, NOT writing and NOT publishing in my blog was difficult, an inner conflict.  I told people that I got busy, that my new life was so full and frantic that I simply did not have the time to sit down and write. 

At least that is what I told people.

The truth is a little different of course.  The truth is that I am lazy and overly sensitive. 

The real reason I did not write in my blog is that I had a crisis of confidence.  One person told me that my postings were too long -- that it was an investment in time and she couldn't do it anymore.  Several people told me that my postings were too nasty, too nauseating and too scary.  One really creepy person told me that my postings were not nasty enough.  Really, pal, go see a therapist, could you?  To top it all off, writing does in fact take time if you want to do it right (and I did -- I mean, I do) and I wanted the time to sit, eat and nurse my feelings.  Translation -- I was lazy.

But I am also human and, in fact, I let the criticism get the best of me.  I want people to read my postings and react.  I want them to laugh, cry, shake their heads, get disgusted, pee themselves, get scared, pass a stone, WHATEVER.  I just want to get a reaction from you.  And when the reactions were not what I expected and wanted, I lost my cool.

All this made me think about myself (one of my favorite topics to be sure).  It made me look inside and see why I would let other people's thoughts affect something that had been so satisfying to me.  I did not like what I found.

I found a person who is not altogether . . . well, altogether.  I can identify my own flaws but most days I simply keep on eating and kind of ignore the bad stuff.  All the bad stuff.  It's way easier that way.  But this "I will show them" attitude was something I could not ignore.

Here's the truth about me, warts and all:
1.  I am 5'7" -- short by most standards for a man.  I often say that I am 5'9" in the morning before gravity has taken its toll but even THAT is not true.  I am 5"7" and really I am probably 5'6".  It doesn't really bother me but I know that most people prefer someone who is a tall drink of water.  I am more of a high ball glass kind of a guy.  As I have said before, I can do anything you freakishly tall people can do -- all I need is a monkey with a stick.
2.  I am way too heavy -- fat -- I am fat.  Fat, fat, fat, fat, fat.  I tell people that I am "fat & fit" and then I laugh -- my friends laugh too.  But, bottom line, I have a big belly and I look fat.  I have a double chin and man boobs.  My love handles are too big and they jiggle when I walk.  Lots of me jiggles when I walk.  I have good legs though and am a pretty good dancer.
3.  I am 53 years old and I have not had a colonoscopy.  I don't really have an ass anymore because it fell off sometime in the early 90's.  But I do have a rectum and a colon and I am really afraid that, when I finally let that scope up there,  they will find Jimmy Hoffa.
4.  I am losing the hair on my head.  Slowly but surely so that the torture is most painful.  I have more than 1 bald spot and you can see my scalp through the hair that is left.  Last summer, for the first time ever, I got a sunburn on my head.
5.  I don't have pretty long eyelashes and my ankles are thick.  Sometimes, after too much salty food, my legs swell and my socks leave marks in my soft bulging flesh.  I am growing hair in places that used to be -- and should STILL be -- hairless.  Think ears mostly but, for the last several years, I have also noticed that my pubic hair is no longer behaving itself.  There are gray pubic hairs -- YES gray pubic hairs -- and the pubic hair growth pattern is, for lack of a better phrase, expanding.  My penis will soon look like a torch cactus (Trichocereus peruvianus) only the stickers will be curly.  And gray.  Dammit.  I will not even broach the subject of my nipple hairs. Nuff said.
6.  I pick my nose alot and it has gotten to be a habit.  I do it in public sometime and I tell myself that nobody notices.  I know they do but I do not care.   Sometime I flick the boogers but never at anyone.
7.  When I am eating, nothing else in the world matters.  I AM EATING.  Do not talk to me.  Do not ask me a question.  Do not point out a cute guy on the street because that might cause me to stop eating and it will make me angry.  I see your lips moving but I am not listening because I AM EATING.   Leave  me alone until I take a break to clean my blow hole out.
8.  I always think I am right.  I may nod my head and say "oh, I totally agree" or "I know what you are saying" but the truth is that the only opinion that really counts is mine because it is right.
9.  I think that I work harder than anyone else on the planet earth and I think that I always have.
10.  I think that the food I cook is better than anyone else's on the planet earth and I think it always has been.
11.  I drive like hell and I don't care.  I cut people off and I honk real long.  I flip people off even old people, even priests, even Jeanne Kirkpatrick who was an idol of mine when she was alive and ambassador to the UN and driving up Connecticut Avenue but way too slow.  I am an asshole when I am behind the wheel of my car.  I am however a very efficient driver and I can get you anywhere in the Washington DC metropolitan area within 30 minutes.
12.  My teeth are bad.  I have these weird divets right at my gumline where food collects.  I see it myself and I see it in people's eyes when we are together for dinner. As a consequence, I drink water excessively when I am eating and I swish it around in the hopes that it will clean some of the shit and debris off my teeth.  Spinach in between your teeth?  Try whole pieces of corn or visible burger meat in your divets and then cry me a river.
13.  I have moments of brilliance but most usually I am normal and ordinary.  I don't admit this often, but deep in my cholesterol choked heart, I know it.  I hate it and hope I am wrong (but, wait, see item #7 above).
14.  I am not a good enough friend to most of my friends.  I count among my friends, some of the most wonderful people you would ever want to meet.  God has blessed me.
15.  I am not a good enough relative to most of my relatives.  I count amount  my relatives, some of the most wonderful people you would ever want to meet.  God has blessed me.
16.  I have a bad memory and I lie about it.  "Remember the time you dressed up like Anne Bancroft for Halloween in 1982?"  No, not really but I bet I was funny.
17.  I am a habitual liar and almost always it is about stupid stuff.  I do this because I am afraid that I will bore people if I tell the truth so I make things up.  I make things up like . . . "I had strawberries last night and they were so sweet.  Like eating spoonfuls of sugar. Delicious!" Or "Yes, I saw that commercial with Joanne Worley and she still looks like she did in 1969.  How does she do that???"  WTF?  Who cares?  Even I don't care but I am deathly afraid of being boring and this is how I have learned to cope.
18.  In the past several years, I have not been able to 100% control my gas.  So, there are times when I bend over to pick up a paper clip from the floor and I toot a little bit.  Nobody around me, not loud enough for others to hear, but I have tooted in public with no forewarning and no certainty that it would not have been bigger, or louder, or, God forbid, moist.  When I was a younger man, I had total control and would not do that unless I was in a bathroom.  But now, I fear, the tooting is unwelcome, random, a surprise to me.  What the hell can be next?

And, really, what is wrong with me?  Too many things to mention here to be honest.  Let me just say that when people told me that my postings were too long I should have said "go fuck yourself. I write for myself."  When I came home at night, I should have published a posting instead of sneak-eating all the leftover potato salad while Jerry was sleeping.  But my potato salad, for those of you who have never had it, is the BEST in the whole wide world, I shit you not. 

So, today, 275 days after my prior last posting, is a new posting.  I will try to make them shorter (but really I am just lying).