been here, done that

In an attempt to let my brain leak out a bit of creative muck, I have started another blog.  I have no idea how often I will write, what I will write about, the length of the individual posts or how often I will shock, frustrate, embarrass or humour my potential readers.  All I know is that I reach the tender age of 42, I remain a bit lost.  The recent 98lbs weight loss did not take my life and turn into a shining pink beacon of fresh hope.  I did not think it would.

Although secretly (and lazily) I want some suspender wearing huckster to jump out from behind a bus stop smoking a big cigar and offer me job writing comedic first person essays for 10 bucks a word.

“Hey skinny!” He would say, liking the cut of my jib. “You look like just the svelte man I am looking for to craft me up some yuks and giggles, how about you hop into this sports car and let me take you to your new office?  All I can offer you is piles of money and surround you with beautiful women who are just less funny and smart than you?”

And scene… And that joke is getting old.

So where is the affecting change on my life resolution now? (editor’s note:  That was my only 2011 resolution).  Ok, before the pity violins come screeching out, I get it, I lost a ton of weight, with help sure, but still, 98lbs is still an accomplishment, no matter how the weight is lost.  So yes, I affected change in my life for the better.  I am healthier and skinnier version of the man I was last summer  (remember him? All huffy and puffy, baggy shirts bordering on muumuu status, nary a olive nor finger full of gravy left sitting untouched after a dinner.  Miss him?  Yeah, me neither), but I still float through waves of incomplete, motivation still hovering around the halfway point.

I preach to Hud all the things I know I should do for myself.  Do more than you’re supposed to.  Just enough will not cut it.  Just enough is simply lazy.  Don’t sit at the back, drive the bus.  I could go on.  Ok I will.  Own your effort.  Do the hard stuff first.  All the parental/life coach things that I am sure a nine year old boy is ignoring.

Really what I should be doing is saying all this stuff to the mirror.  And I would but I can’t stop blowing myself kisses.

Lets call this post one.