Supersize Me

i have an incredibly "love/hate" relationship with food; i love to eat, but i hate to gain weight.
i love food; meat, vegetables, bread, cakes, sweets. i come from foodies and my mom and dad raised me to try everything before saying i don't like it. lately i've even begun to re-visit things i hadn't liked in the past, attempting to see if my taste really has changed*.
the problem is, i like food a little too much. over the last 33 years i've lost and gained and lost and gained to an almost ridiculous degree; i'm starting to feel like Kirstie Alley. here are the highlights:

• (1999, about a year after graduating college) i was 165 lbs and wearing a size 30 jeans*, thanks to a really hot mexican guy who gave me mono.
• (2006) a year before CawfeeMate and i tied the knot  i was 210 lbs
• (2007) thanks to Weight Watchers, i was down to 172 by the time we got married, on October 6th.
• (2008) a year later, i was up to 190 lbs, when we got married (again) on October 11th. 
• as of this morning, i'm down to 173 lbs.
  
  
  

i can pretty much point to my complete unwillingness to participate in any physical activity as the cause of my ascent to 210. i do not like sports. i do not like to exercise. given the opportunity, i would lie around (be it on the couch or in a hammock), reading and playing videogames all day. actually, that's exactly what i did for six months, in 2003, while i was unemployed and mooching off CawfeeMate;  that's where the bulk of my...bulk...came from. 

but, in the end, all the rest of the ups and downs all come back to food.

i almost always want to eat, but i know that i can't.

i could snack all day at work; i could drop $5 a day on the lady who sits 3 desks over and sells snack-sized bags of chips and cookies and pretzels and things...but i walk by her every day and only say hello.

at home, i'd gladly indulge in second helpings of whatever we make for dinner***,  and then sit down to watch tv with thebag of pita chips and a tub of hummus we got from Costco...but, instead, i measure out one portion of chips (admitedly about 2 cups) and about half a cup of the hummus. and dessert? i could easily down half a pint of Ben & Jerry's Cake Batter ice cream or half a package of Oreos or Mallomars in an evening, instead of stopping after one scoop or 3 cookies.

if i didn't exercise restraint, i'd feel terrible about myself. i'd be racked with good old fashioned catholic flavored guilt about not being able to overcome my basest urges. because that's what it's all about, at the end of the day: being able to lie in bed**** and say "your will-power stopped you from eating today". well that and being able to fit in size 32 pants.

i slipped this morning and indulged in the craving i've had for McDonald's breakfast. There's alot of fat and alot of calories in a bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel, folks, but i had to give in. there was no way i'd be able to make it another day without one. so, as "penance" i skipped lunch and will forgo my after dinner chips and hummus. as i finish writing this (i started about 4 hours ago), i'm unbelievably hungry. Debbie, the chip lady, has one bag of Cinnamon Scooby Snack graham crackers left (only 55 cents!) but i'm going to walk past her, on the way out the door, no matter how tempted i am to slip twice in one day.

i have to will myself not to because each time i do, it's another step closer toward 210...someplace that i refuse to ever see again.

* i have CawfeeMate to thank for this, since his way of cooking and tastes aren't quite the same as mine. he's a brilliant cook, so chances are if he makes it, i'll like it.

** truth to be told, i probably should've been wearing a size 32, but i was 23 and had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of and make change, so why quibble?

*** 99% of the time, whatever we cook is made in a way that the WW gurus would approve of: low fat or no fat cheeses on our pizza, chicken sausage, green vegetables every day, measured portions, little or no oil, nothing fried, etc.
**** maybe this explains why CawfeeMate tells me that i "sleep eat"; that is: make noises like i'm eating and drinking, in my sleep.

Gays of Future Past

anyone who knows me can probably attest that, when it comes to my looks, i'm not a "blow my own horn" kinda guy; if anything, i've been told (by CawfeeMate) that i have more than a few body dismorphic issues. this is, conservatively speaking, a pretty fair assesment of me. having grown up with a weight problem and other issues, i'm usually very uncomfortable and unhappy with how i look. i seldom believe the odd compliment i may receive, and it's extremely rare when i feel young, handsome and/or thin. yesterday, though, i felt all three at the same time. i owe it all to being in a room of eight older (55+), overweight, unattractive gay men at a brunch hosted by a friend of CawfeeMate. call it "schadenfreude for the vain".

we had been, invited a number of weeks ago by a friend whom CawfeeMate sees almost annually; for argument's sake, i'll refer to this friend as HowOdd*.Anyway, the invitation was for a 1pm brunch in Queens. no other details (ie. guestlist) were included in the e-mail invite and even while driving there we wondered if it would be mutual friends of CawfeeMate and HowOdd, from the hospital they had both worked at (HowOdd had recently retired). When we walked in, i was immediately struck with the knowledge that, for the 1st time in a very long time, i was the youngest person in the room by about  25 years (with CawfeeMate coming a very close second by being only 7 years my senior). Ordinarily, facts like that don't really phase me; like Nicky Arnstein (and a sponge), i can usually fit in almost anywhere. i've always hung out with a slightly older crowd and have been attracted to/enjoyed the company of older men, so i'm fairly comfortable with the salt-and-peppered hair set. this group, though, was another story. Our arrival was met with the cocktail party silence of a group of people, who already know each other, sizing up the newbies. introductions were made and CawfeeMate and i stood together, nursing our Bloody Marys, till brunch was served. during the 15 or 20 minutes between our arrival and the food observed the following:

• with the exception of myself and CawfeeMate, everyone assembled was either retired or ten minutes away from retirement.
• one man had, perhaps, the worst wig/toupee i have ever seen, bar none in a completely unbelievable shade of red as to suggest Raggedy Andy or Ronald McDonald. within 5 minutes of meeting him it struck me that he was also incredibly pretentious, bordering on obnoxious.
• two gentlemen had obvious dye jobs (c'mon mary, nobody's hair is that black after the age of forty. who are you, Anne Miller?)
• one couple (there were three) looked like brothers.

after my initial shock/knee-jerk-bitch reaction relaxed and wore off (or perhaps the 2nd Bloody Mary kicked in) we sat around talking and i learned:

• one of the guys was a retired figure skater!
• this was the pre-Stonewall generation
•  they'd all, obviously, survived the 80's and the AIDS epidemic.
• with the exception of WigMan, they were all exceptionally interesting to talk to, having been "there" and done "that" several decades before i was even a thought.
• we're everywhere and have been forever
• talk of Shirley Bassey, clubs and drag queens transcends every gay generation

after a while the mood transitioned from uncomfortable to surreal. it was like looking way into the future (like in Spice World or that episode of AbFab) and seeing my friends...in their sixties...sitting around eating bagels, lox and ruggelach remembering the "gay nineties"...

*HowOdd was CawfeeMate's supervisor at a previous job and despite their sigificant age difference (both HowOdd and his boyfriend are in their early sixties), HowOdd's incredibly strange sense of humor and CawfeeMate's change of jobs they remained friendly.

Lighten Up Faggot (or You're a Card)

saturday, the huz and i went to my favorite godson's 1st birthday party. while standing around and chit chatting with my friends and their family, they asked if we had seen the new ABC sitcom Modern Family, which had premiered Wednesday night. i admitted we hadn't, but that it hadn't looked all that funny to us*. they unanimously proceeded to disagree and tell us that it was that funny, so when we got home from the party we watched it on ABC.com.

very long story short ('cuz this isn't intended to be a review of the show), it really was a great pilot; the preconcieved notions i had** about it were completely dashed and i really enjoyed it. the reason i'm brining it up is because the 1st scene you meet the gay couple, they're on a plane picking up their newly adopted vietnamese baby and are uptight about the flight home; in the face of what appears to be an anti-gay slur. one of the guys gets up an gives "the speech".

i'm sure you know "the speech". we all have "a speech". it's that anti-anti-gay tirade we all have practiced, a thousand times, in our heads; it may a couple of words or a couple of pages worth, but we'd love to deliver to right-wing, conservative shitheads who snicker and laugh and heckle us when we walk through the mall or down the street holding hands or sit too close on the train. "the speech" is reactionary and/or caustic and typically knee-jerk liberal finger wagging. well, friday night i got to deliver a few lines of my "speech" at the Hallmark store in the Staten Island mall.

Non-Pregnant Juno Looking Cashier Girl: did you find everything you were looking for?
CawfeeGuy: no actually i didn't. unless you have a section for "Congratulations on your Domestic Partnership*** or Non-Federally-Recognized Marriage" that i didn't see.
NPJLCG: Um...what?
CG: Never mind.
NPJLC: wait...do you mean, like, gay marriage?
CG: yeah. forget it. Hallmark doesn't make a card for that.
NPJLC: actually we do.
CG: huh?
NPJLC: Follow me.

Hallmark had about 10 or 12 cards, specifically for same-sex weddings (with two tuxes or wedding dresses, rainbows, penguins, etc on them), in their own little section next to the other wedding cards. suffice to say, i left there with a terribly red face, but with blog and cocktail party fodder.

my point in all this, is that the scene in Modern Family was so funny because it was so real. We (the gays), are constantly on guard against "attacks" and "injustice" that, sometimes, we're as hair-trigger-sensitive as a Tom & Jerry mousetrap; seeing it on t.v. (especially after friday night) was just perfect timing (for me) because it really hit home. We need to lighten up, fellas. Sometimes...i'd hazard to say most times... "the speech" is totally warranted and necessary; but there are other times when, comically, it's the complete opposite. during the lattter, we need to be able to step back and laugh at ourselves. truth to be told, i think if we laughed at ourselves more often we'd be alot more...gay.

*in truth, CawfeeMate had called me up on wednesday morning and asked if i had heard of the new "gay sitcom" and i felt compelled to correct him that it was just "a sitcom with gays" and not the next Will & Grace after having seen an ad on the subway.
** that the gay couple would just be 2 dimensional punchlines for tired old jokes about 2 fags and a baby
*** two our friends, Chris and Patrick, went down to Staten Island Borough Hall, on Friday, and got...domestically partnered...which totally deserved a card.

Test Day: Caution Do Not Mix With Coke!

You Are Pop Rock

You are a happy, optimistic person. You find a lot of joy in life. You like music that's easy to sing along to, dance to, or listen to. You tend to like things that are modern and trendy. You're not a snob, and to be honest, you can't stand snobbery of any kind. You like songs that are catchy. Your favorite songs stick in your head for years.

What Kind of Rock Are You?

Blogthings: We Have a Quiz for Almost Everything

Test Day: Back Then I Was CawfeeBoy

You Are 76% A Child of the 80s

Not only did you experience the 80s... you are practically an expert. You should be totally stoked!

Are You a Child of an 80s?

Mallomarvelous

It's fall! Do you know what that means? Mallomar season is upon us!
it seems the magical cookie elves (no, not the Keebler elves...different elves...migrant elves...possibly Mexican or South American) have harvested, boxed and shipped the delightful little chocolate covered parcels of joy to our local supermarkets.
did you not know they were seasonal? me neither, 'til about 2 years ago when CawfeeMate and i went into King Kullen looking for a box to satisfy my genetically predisposed addiction* to them and the manager told me that they weren't "in season" and then suggested the (apparently hot house grown) Pinwheels** or Whippets, instead. But, to paraphrase My Cousing Vinny, no self-respecting Mallomar fan would ever settle for a Pinwheel or a Whippet. It's like Oreos vs Hydrox, Boar's Head vs Oscar Meyer bologna, or Kylie vs Dannii Minogue; a pale imitation of true quality which rarely satisfies.
anyway, relish these fall and winter months, my friends, and indulge.if you've never tried a Mallomar, i suggest picking up a box and savoring the just-picked and always fresh taste. afterward, i'll meet you at Costco to stock up for the off-season.

*my dad is a Mallomars fiend and has been known to (happily) receive boxes of them for Christmas and his birthday, which luckily fall during prime Mallomars season. Strangely, neither my mom, nor my husband understand the allure...
** which are so not Mallomars that i can't even find a good link for you

Oh, and if you like the picture, up top, you can get it on a shirt here

"Get 'Em at Gimbel's"~ Auntie Mame

the place: Sears, the Staten Island Mall
the time: around 1pm, Sunday after a late night of Chocolate Martinis from Bay Ridge straight bars (which is another story, to be sure)

CawfeeGuy (to a sixty-plus frail woman bearing a striking resmblence to Juno from Beetlejuice): excuse me, do you work in the men's section?
Juno: yes?
CG: great! i'm looking for a pair of khakis, in navy, flat front, in size 34 x 34.
J: there's nobody on the floor.
CG:..only you...?
J: did you look in the section?
CG: yes...this place looks like it was hit by a hurricane; your customers have teared the section to shreds.
J: oh. you need to find someone on the floor.
CG: you are on the floor; can you help me find them?
J: oh...i'm not on the floor; i'm on register.
CG: noooooooo. you're standing here, on the floor, talking to me; there are no other sales people in this godforsaken place.
J: ...and you looked in the section?
CG: Fuck this; i'm going to Macy's! at least there i know not to expect any help.

Random (Drunken)Thought of the Day...Night...Whatever.

White Castle needs to add quiche lorraine to their "late night drunken bastard" menu. seriously. it's heaven.

thanks to MS for filling that void.

Fun Guy

Picture it:

a Chinese restaurant in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. CawfeeGuy and CawfeeMate are having dinner with CawfeeMate's extended family to celebrate Nana's 200th* birthday. CG and CM are off to the side at the "kids table" populated, mostly, by CM's cousins, whose ages range between 21 and 32, and their spouses and their kids. CG is sitting next to the 25 year old, married since April, stunning, 5' tall wife of CM's 26 year old 6'11", built-like-a-brick-shithouse NYPD cop cousin; they've been chatting aimiably for some time till...

Stunning Brooklyn Bride (holding up a straw mushroom): wow this mushroom looks like...hee hee

CawfeeGuy: a penis?
SBB: yeah! it's a perfect penis!
CG: um...it's not exactly perfect.
SBB: why?
CG: 'perfect' is alot bigger, sweetie.
SBB (guffaws):ohmygawd you're right! imagine if i really thought it was perfect? that wouldn't say alot for him (pointing to her husband).

*actually i think it was her 96th, but after #90 who can really keep track?

Test Day: Yeah...That's Right...I'm Truly Outrageous

Your Gemstone is Amethyst

Dignified, impressive, and wise. You have a deeply spiritual soul

What Gemstone Are You?

Test Day: Dusk-a-Roo

You Are Dusk

You are a naturally idealistic and creative person. You look forward to nights where everything is possible. You spend most of your energy on play. Work is okay, but the true you emerges after the work day is done. You're an offbeat type that doesn't like rules or schedules. Life's too short to waste at a desk in a cube. Whether you spend your night socializing or working on side projects, you like that your time is yours.

Are You Dusk or Dawn?

Top 10 Reasons (You'll Never Read Anywhere Else) Why You Should Be Glad to Be Gay

1. we've got Ellen

2. you’ll never get rip roaring drunk and wake up to find you’ve accidentally adopted a crack baby

3. straight people assume you’re having more fun and better sex than they are (and you usually are)

4. cruising areas

5. gay clubs never have a dress code

6. meeting someone you’re interested in, who has the same 1st name as you, is infinitely less creepy and disturbing

7. gay porn stars are way hotter

8. gay bars never have brawls (unless there are lesbians there)

9. Double the gender means double the wardrobe!

10. your friends will never let you leave the house with bad eyebrows.

IMHO Revisited & Re-Posted

Read last year's post here. My feelings haven't changed.

Test Day: Guess Who Woke Up Hungry This Morning?

You Are a Chocolate Cupcake

You are deep, richly interesting, and at times overpowering. You have a strong personality. You are drawn to people who adore you. You love it when your specialness is recognized. You are like a cupcake because it's hard for people to get enough of you. You have a mysterious charm that makes you incredibly addicting. People are drawn to your drama.

What Flavor Cupcake Are You?

Blogthings: Take a Quiz. Annoy Your Friends.

Test Day: CG & J

Your PB and J Says You're Demure and Dainty

Your eating style is reserved. You are a bit of a fussy eater, and you have very specific ways you like your food prepared. You don't really have a sweet tooth. If you go for dessert, you tend to go for something light. Your taste in food tends to be quite eclectic and wide. You are an adventurous eater, and you like many types of cuisines. You are probably a fairly normal, upper middle class person. You don't rock the boat too often. You are a tough person who isn't afraid to live life fully. There isn't a lot that scares you. You are laid back and extremely easygoing. You never make a fuss, and you try to enjoy every moment.

What Does Your Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich Say About You?

Blogthings: Discover the Parts of Your Personality that Have Been Hiding

Let It Be (Anything But the Fucking Beatles)

every morning, for the last several weeks, i've been getting my coffee and sitting on a bench outside my office, reading my Kindle (currently i'm making my way through Richard Stevenson's Donald Strachey Mysteries series). i usually sit out there from 7:15 till about 7:45 or 8am depending on how engrossed i am in my book. This morning though, i got to Jay Street-Borough Hall and it was just a bit more brisk than usual, so i figured i'd grab a latte at the Starbucks downstairs and sit at one of their tables; something i've never done. Knowing they like to keep their in-store music pretty loud, i took my headphones off rather than compete and blow out my eardrums. i usually like what they're playing anyway, so it didn't seem like it was going to be a big deal. sadly i was wrong.

apparently, it's fucking "Beatles week". In addition to the release of Rock Band Beatles edition, they've re-released a bunch of albums in digitally remastered format, to the delight of retro-rocking-anglophiles everywhere and i sat there for 45 minutes, listening to some sort of Best Of compilation while reading. Naturally, i posted a status update about it on Facebook and was totally deluged by mixed comments from both the Pro-Beatles and Anti-Beatles sects, the latter of which i find myself firmly amongst. FYI: the Pro-Beatles folks are almost as fanatical as the Pro-Lifers and the Anti-Gay Marriage nuts.

i don't get their music. personally, i the Beatles' sound incredibly dated, in a way that just isn't pleasant. i'm a product of the 80's and the 90's; i grew up with Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, New Edition, the Bangles and a veritable phalanx of one-hit wonders whose names could fill a phonebook. Though that music, too is beyond dated, it's a snapshot of my childhood.

also, i just don't get that kind of fanaticism. i love my music, but i'm not militant about it. if you don't like Bjork (and c'mon, how many people really like her), i get that; she's not for everyone; like headcheese, tripe and blood sausage. Ditto Kristine W, Rufus Wainwright, the Pet Shop Boys and Colton Ford, but hey...that's why iPods have headphones and "skip" buttons. i'm not crazy enough to think that every song that falls from Colton Fords sweet sweet lips is magical (half his 1st album is a dud), but i like what i like. i'm not sure i can explain why i like the artists i do; i just do. honestly, though, i don't think their music requires explanation...well Bjork's might require a translator, but that's another story.

Beatles fans (like Stevie Nicks and Prince fans), though, will beat you over the head with why the Beatles are the alpha and omega of music history and how they've influenced every single artist and/or musician ever...including anyone who made music before them and you better nod and smile or else.

So, tomorrow morning when i go in for my latte, hopefully my little java jockies will be playing something else...anything else...'cuz i definitely can't take two days in a row of Beatlemania and the weather isn't supposed to warm up anytime soon.

CawfeeMate: the Anti-Cawfee

personally, i'm a very big fan of visual symmetry and balance. i like walls with two sconces, tables with pairs of candlesticks, etc. i have four tattoos on my legs: two on the right and two on the left (two of which are almost identical representations of a phoenix, one "hot" colors and one "cold" colors"; one on each leg in the exact same spot). you get the idea.

my marriage to CawfeeMate is also an exercise in balance and symmetry since he is, just about, everything that i'm not: physically he's short, fair and strong and personally he's neat, tidy, organized, serious, responsible, thrifty, level headed, etc and we balance each other out perfectly. all his strengths make up for my short-comings and vice versa. we're, basically, Paula Abdul's Opposites Attract video (i'm not sure which one of us is Paula and which is the cartoon cat, but you get the idea).

In direct contrast with being a big fan of symmetry, i'm also a big flaming ball of entropy, leaving chaos and disorder in my wake of fabulousness and fierceness. true to form, CawfeeMate is usually not far behind me restoring order to (most) of which i've torn assunder and the place where this is most obvious (to me) is the dishwasher. when i load our dishwasher it is with zero regard for placement of...anything. my objective is to cram as much crap in as possible to get the job done and get the dishes clean without lifting a sponge so i can play Castlevania III. unfortunately, when i load a dishwasher it's 90% negative space.

He, on the other hand is the king of Dishwasher Jenga and usually shoos me out of the way and rearranges things so that the entire dishwasher is filled with plates, pots, glasses and silverware with 1% negative space but still allows for pretty damn good cleaning. as someone with incredibly poor judgement and 3D imagining, watching him is as fascinating as it is infuriating. not surprisingly, he's also an incredible parallel parker and great at furniture placement.

on the flipside, the minute the diswasher finishes, i empty the thing of all the burning hot plates. if it was up to him, they'd sit there for days. see? balance.

September Resolutions

1. write something every (week) day, instead of just updating my Facebook status every fifteen minutes.
2. continue working out regularly, upping the weights accordingly and not plateauing when it gets easy.
3. find some kind of cardio workout that doesn't make me wish i was dead.
4. increase blog traffic on this tired old corner of the internet that i call my own.
5. find reasons to hate my job less.
6. find a creative outlet.

Test Day: This Explains My Complete Lack of Fufillment

Your Career Personality: Caring, People-Oriented, and Competent

Your Ideal Careers: Esthetician Massage therapist Nurse Pediatrician Personal assistant Personal coach Personal trainer Preschool teacher Volunteer coordinator Wedding planner

The Quick and Dirty Career Test

Blogthings: Our Quizzes Weren't Written By Bored 12 Year Olds

Test Day: Pet Peeve

You Would Be a Pet Bird

You're intelligent and witty, yet surprisingly low maintenance. You charm people easily, and they usually love you a lot more than you love them. You resent anyone who tries to own or control you. You refuse to be fenced in. Why you would make a great pet: You're very smart and entertaining Why you would make a bad pet: You're not interested in being anyone's pet! What you would love about being a bird: Flying, obviously What you would hate about being a bird: Being caged

What Kind of Pet Would You Be?

Work is Hard. Time for Blogthings!

An Open Letter to The Ex I Saw on the Bus Last Night

wow! it's been years* since we saw each other last (coincidentally, I’m pretty sure you were the last guy I dated before I met CawfeeMate); you still look really good** and haven’t changed, a bit***. I had forgotten how into music**** you were and how many stories you had*****! Congratulations again on getting engaged! I think it’s really great that you found someone; he must be a really great guy and I hope everything goes well with the wedding. Anyway, I’m glad we got to chat on the bus ride home****** and I hope we’ll bump into each other again*******!


*well, not exactly years; i've seen you on the bus a few times, since I switched routes last January, but i've never felt the need to acknowledge you because i thought it would be awkward; but since the last time saw each other on the bus we've become Facebook friends, and i'm guessing that's what prompted you to say hi and ask to sit next to me.

** translation: if we were both single, i'd totally fuck you, again.

*** that stutter hasn’t improved has it? y’know, the one that makes you repeat repeat repeat repeat the same word or word or word or sentence a couple of times before you get it out? God that was annoying…still is, actually. Between the stutter and the completely uninteresting content, your stories seem to take forever. Were you always this much of a bore? God, maybe that’s why I stopped seeing you.

**** nobody should ever tell somebody else, “because I’m a musician, I tend to hear music differently than most; that’s why I can truly appreciate how amazing Madonna’s Hard Candy is” you pompous bore. BTW: i've heard your "music" and i can understand why you're producing your own albums; the 1st two make wonderful coasters when i can't find my copy of Confessions On the Dancefloor.

***** the one about kicking your mom out of your apartment? priceless! the one about your testicle which was twisted inside your scrotum? a total gas!

****** because even though it seemed to take 3 days to get home, it really and truly reminded me how great CawfeeMate is and how much I appreciate him; which I old him, the second I got in the car.

******* actually, I just hope I’m quick enough to feign sleep next time.