Rachel | Locust Beach

Don and I met our friends from Vancouver in Bellingham for the afternoon and we killed some time on the beach between lunch at La Gloria (which has amazing Mexican food by the way...) and going to the movies. Rachel had such a great scarf on. The right scarf can completely change an outfit. I keep one in my purse in case I end up meeting with someone for drinks after work and need to add a little something to my outfit or if my hair is not cooperating I can cover it up with a head wrap. And the best part? There are so many beautiful scarves that cost next to nothing at the flea market or thrift store.

Such a lovely girl that Rachel. I like this mix of stripes and floral.

The new scarlet letter is "F". A is crap.

So here I am, hungry. Wasting away to a meager 300 pounds. I would eat anything right now. Horse, midget, brussel sprouts, seriously, anything. If there were another person in this room, I would ask them for food. ( I bet you thought I would say eat them and that's why I will see you in hell ). So I have this thing, its called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. The fact that I just spelled that lets you know I am not lying. So, what it is, is apparently, my heart is too strong and full of muscle, so blood has trouble flowing in and out. The rest of me causes people to dry heave, but my heart is a supersexy body building mofo. I really am sexy on the inside.
So I found out I have this last Friday (10/17/08), and first thing is first says the doctor, stop being fat. I have always been fat. I am a real big guy all around so everyone does that "oh you're not fat, you're a big guy". It's like when I lived in a small cowboy town in Arizona when I was young, and we would tell our friend Tim that no one notices he is black. Lies. I am fat. I could tell cause of my boobs. Don't get me wrong, they are REALLY nice and although aesthetics tell me to keep them, my heart says no. Literally. I think there is a song called "listen to your heart". I also think that it is was by a band called "Heart" which is weird, and I don't think they were talking about hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Also one of the members of "Heart" married Cameron Crowe which really proves nothing.
So, here I am, picturing myself skinny. Here is a quick list of things I can't do which I think that maybe I could do if I weren't fat:
breakdancing, highdiving, figure skating, underwear model, weight loss supplement sales, juggle, hide, ride small mammals/large turtles, blend.
What if I can't do any of those things when I am no longer fat?
Didn't someone smart once say a man's illusions are all he has? Or was it delusions? Anyway if I can't figgin' breakdance when this crap is over I will be one pathetic little man. No offense, of course, to the many skinny men out there that can't breakdance. I'm sure its not your fault, I'm sure you have some excuse, yada yada yada, my condolences etc.
Man. I loove food. I don't know how to express my love for food with just these keys. Our language is inadequate when trying define my love for food in words. Hand gestures, sky writings, and lower back tattoos can only begin to express my love for food. I miss it. I like to think it misses me, but it has probably moved on. I need to face the facts, it was a destructive relationship and we need to see other people for a while. You know, just get out there and see what it has in store for us. We can still be friends, but we will never again match the torrid affair we once had. Unless I go to San Francisco again....Mmmmmmmmm San Francisco.