The Fat Crawler Experience
Journal (February 2004)
Home | Most Recent Journal Entry | My Journal (Pre-op) | My Journal (Post-op) | ABC's of my WLS | The List | Photos (Pre-op) | Photos (Post-op) | Body Pics | Before & After | Quotes | Art Corner | Links | Contact | Guestbook

My Journal for February 2004

February 3, 2004
As if waiting for me to come out of my spiraling depression, or whatever the crappy mood was that I was in, the weather suddenly decided to turn warm and sunny.  Of course I am not naive enough to believe that my emotions control the weather, but I'm not ruling it out either.  And I'm sure this comes as no big surprise, but I haven't walked in my leg brace since my freedom proclamation.  I did finish out the day until nine o'clock that night.  Then the next night, Saturday, I went out dancing at the same old club with Melissa and Curt and had one of the best times of my life.  I never danced so much.  It was mad craziness.  I liquored myself up early on in the evening, then danced the night away with some very beautiful women that I had never met.  They were super cute and had boyfriends who stayed home, but they were outstanding dancers and only too happy to boogie with me.  I often wonder if it isn't hard being really beautiful.  Guys were hitting on them constantly all night, grabbing their asses (which was clearly an unwelcome gesture), and they were just dancing and trying to have a good time.  It's always so funny to me.  Beautiful women always seem to flock to me, whether coupled with another guy or not.  I think it's because they don't feel threatened by a man in a wheelchair with an earnestly boy-like face.  Usually they try to dance quite erotically with me, assuming that I've never danced with a pretty girl (it's a pity thing) and believing that there couldn't be one evil sexy thought in my head.  Okay, I'm the first to admit that I'm less than schooled on the subject of sex (at least with actual experience), but let's face it.  I'm a guy with normal urges and normal abilities, and as is quite evident, a wild imagination.  It's not much of a stretch to go from grinding on a dance floor to imagining gettin' it on with a fine, fine female specimen.  The only thing is this inner respect for women.  I really do see them as equals, just much more beautiful than we men who mostly don't attempt to better our looks.  Well, that's not entirely true.  Body hair really grosses me out.  I don't wax or anything like that, but if there is a randomly placed long hair, it gets plucked... right along with any signs of a uni-brow.  I try to dress nicely, too, but women go the extra mile.  They have to put on the makeup, wear the bras, step into the high heels, shave the legs, and that's not even talking about the hell of having to bear children.  Thank the lawd I was born a man.  I also weighed in over the last weekend.  Travisty of all travisties, I gained two pounds.  Talk about a show stopper.  I can't believe I gained weight.  I can't say that I expected to lose much after working at The Garage and eating the never-ending supply of junk food, but never in my wildest dreams did I see myself gaining weight this early in the game.  It's got me scared, to say the least.  But I'm still working down at The Garage, so the food is still there.  I have to work down there until Mom finishes the taxes, and it seems like she's taking her sweet time about it.  Maybe I'm just anxious about gaining weight.  It's not that I mind working down there, but I'm terrified of gaining the weight back.  I bring healthy food with me to work, but there is a mini-mart just down the street with every bad food in the world there.  Probably the worst part of all is that I can see myself making the same old excuses about why it's not my fault that I can't control my cravings.  I've simply got to buckle down and not be so pathetic.  And even though I promised I would walk from now on, I'm breaking it.  (I did, after all, say I would recant ten minutes later... I held out longer than that.)  I very much intend to keep walking a lot, though.  But I still got plenty of exercise after dancing the other night.  It's been three days and my neck and back are still aching.  But on to bigger and better things.  I've decided to remain happy no matter how bland things get, and the temperature is inclined to agree.  I've also been trying to find a car, but we'll see.  The future is just a plethora of possibilities!  Okay, so it's not all that exciting, but a new car means ability for road trips.  I could so use a road trip.  Now if I can just get around that pesky little money issue.  Hmmm...
February 5. 2004
Today is Mom's fourtieth birthday.  I find it hard to believe my mother is that old.  She has always been so young to me.  Nobody believes it when she says she is that old.  I guess that's probably where I get my young looks from.  If not for all the kids, she could easily pass for thirty or younger.  Most people think she is my sister or girlfriend when we go out somewhere together.  Well, speaking of going out with Mom, I took her for lunch at the Chinese restaurant.  I don't like to eat Chinese food just because it is a carbohydrate nightmare, but I remember the old days when I would order forty dollars worth of it delivered to my front door at college, and eat it all in one day.  I'm sure it's still delicious, but it doesn't do that much for me now.  But I walked in my leg brace because Mom wanted me to.  It wouldn't have been such a problem except my back is still hurting from some Richard Simmons videos I did late last night.  On top of that, I sprained both ankles in about three seconds after putting on my stupid brace, or as I like to refer to it, the Imminent Torture Machine of Death (or ITMD for short).  That bastard of a brace is so heavy, not to mention way too big for me.  It's supposed to be snug against my leg, but I've lost so much weight that when I sit down, it slides right down my leg.  In my thighs, it sort of just flops around.  But there's not really a lot I can do about it until I stop losing weight for good.  And don't go thinking that just because my brace doesn't fit that I don't want to lose anymore weight.  I want to get walking again, but it will just get easier the more weight I lose.  Well, so long as it doesn't get too much bigger on me, that is.  And yesterday while I was at my brother's highschool, saving him from his biology class, three seperate students asked me if I was a Freshman.  Of all things, highschool kids thinking I'm only fourteen.  Two out of the three thought I was lying when I said I was twenty-two.  Maybe my new nickname should be Babyface McGee.  Sometimes I think it would be funny and pull a prank a la Never Been Kissed and go back to highschool and do it all over again.  For one thing, I would be so popular it would be pathetic.  I don't even talk to anybody and I already have tons of kids saying hi to me that I've just seen around.  I've never even talked to them, but they all want to know me.  I think it has more to do with having facial hair than anything else, but it could be do to my overwhelming confidence when I'm there.  Seriously, if someone appears secure in who they are, aren't they seemingly much more attractive even if you don't know them?  And on top of all that, I would get straight As easily.  I see what the kids are doing in school, and after having gone through college, that old stuff would be a breeze.  I wouldn't even have to try to ace everything.  So why did it seem so hard when I went through it the first time?  Why did I stress out about it so much back then?  Then I wonder if I stress out too much about things in my life now.  Am I going to look back on my old self of today and say what an immature idiot I was and how childish I appeared?  Am I going to regret holding myself back because I never realized that I was the only thing stopping myself?  Twenty years from now, what am I going to wish I had done differently?  I will probably wish I had been more outgoing and not so insecure about my looks.  Even now I regret never kissing Natalie when I had the perfect chance.  I regret not being more aggressive when I went dancing a couple of weeks ago.  I regret not having lowered my standards a little while I was in Mexico instead of focusing all of my attention on someone that was way out of my league.  I will probably regret that I hadn't been more ambitious in my career goals and that I just gave up like every other person who just settles for whatever they think they can get.  I think I need to try harder because I don't want to live a life of regrets.  Well, I suppose there's no better time to start than the present.  After all, today is the first day of the rest of my life, or some such nonsense, right?  I suppose walking with my brace is a big step or two in the right direction.  So is my singing in bars.  I've been recognized a few more times since my last time singing, and my friend's wife has invited me to karaoke because she said she's dying to know if I'm really as good of a singer as she has heard around.  I've even had one guy come up to me and ask if I'm going to go back and sing at the bar again this month because he loved my singing so much, and that he would go if I was going to sing, but not if I didn't.  I don't want to sound conceited, but these are things people say to me, completely unprompted.  I don't even know most of the people who tell me they think I sing so great.  And if I'm really good enough for some stranger to work up enough courage to come over and pay me a specific compliment, isn't that a way of the universe telling me that I really am destined to be a singer?  It's almost like my life is a moving in waiting, where the main characted can achieve incredible goals, but only after overcoming the most impossible and unlikely circumstances that life has to offer.  Honestly, when's the last time you saw a fat singer in a wheelchair?  Or even a leg brace, for that matter.  And yet the comments keep rolling in.  Sometimes I almost feel like I owe it to the world to at least try.  I mean, a lot of people have invested in my health and general well being, and don't I sort of owe it to them to at least attempt my best at what things I can do best?  I've got to do what I can.  That will be my biggest regret of all if I never do anything with my singing.  That is something I will regret forever when I know I could have been so much more.  Now, to completely change the subject, is anyone ever going to stop talking about dumb Janet Jackson's breast?  For crying out loud, I've got bigger boobs than she does!  Who the hell cares if she flashed it for two seconds on television.  People act like they've never seen one before, or better yet, never sucked on one.  Sheesh, hasn't the American public ever seen European television?  It's like soft core porn.  But Janet flashed a boob.  Oooooooh.  Big deal!  Brother.  People in this country are so uptight.  Get over it.  Be lucky you got to take a peek.  Haven't you ever seen her videos?  Her boob was the only thing we hadn't seen already.  Ugh.  Anyway, I guess that's all the excitement for this day.  But there's always the next eleven hours or so where the world can fall apart.  You never know.
February 10, 2004
I suppose not a whole lot has been going on in my life.  I lost only one of the two pounds I gained, but at least I lost one.  I'm trying to be more strict with my food consuming practices, but it's so hard still working down at The Garage.  There is only junk food there, but today I'm going to bring celery and an orange with me.  People have been so stressed out in my family lately, and I think we're all very ready for spring.  We're all tired of being cooped up in the house.  Well, until later...
February 16. 2004
Somehow three days of doing taxes turned into three weeks of procrastination.  I was originally promised that my term at The Garage would last only three days, but here I find myself of what I have been told was my last day there and it's three weeks later.  It's not that I mind going down there and spending time with my dad, in fact I enjoy it, but I hate getting up in the morning to go and do something that is out of my usual grind.  I suppose I deserved it, though.  I asked for some way to get out of the house; I guess I should have been more specific.  I also went swimming at my brother's school last week.  It was a lot of fun, but it's a long drive to get there, so I don't think I'll be doing it too often.  And in a tragic turn of events, the universe seems to have haulted any chances for me to get walking any time soon.  In a desperate moment of self-determination, I opted to wear my leg brace down to The Garage.  While exiting the bathroom, which has two wooden steps leading out of it, I lost my balance.  However, I quickly regained it, but at the sacrifice of speed control.  I caught my weight at the bottom of the stairs much to the dismaying sounds of an unceremonious crack and an undeniable feeling of bending steel in the area of my lower right shin.  After limping even more audaciously than normal to my position back at the front desk.  The lower half of the brace rubbed noticeably rough on the back of my calf.  I took it off and inspected it with Dad.  The entire casing of the lower half of the brace had been cracked around the perimeter in a rectangular fashion and the steel had an obvious bend in it that had previously not been there.  Knowing that the company which had made my brace no longer wanted to partake in reparations of the brace, and knowing that not much could probably be done anyway, and knowing that the brace only awkwardly lolled around on my leg in a hoola-hoop fashion as it was, we decided to discard the brace as a worthless piece of broken shit.  Fourteen thousand dollars flushed down the drain.  The worst part of all was that the brace had hardly gotten any use.  It was practically new, having accumulated very little wear over the five years or so that I had owned it.  When it had been made for me and fit perfectly, I was too overweight to use it.  Now that I had lost enough to start making my treck back to independant mobility, the brace had become uselessly silly-looking and fit so absurdly that it reminded me of so many shirts the size of bedsheets that I no longer wear.  So short story long, I no longer have a leg brace and can't walk.  After relating my story to Melanie, we came up with an adage that allured to my ass being so big that it can bend airplane steel (the kind used in my brace).  It was quite amusing.  Then last Friday night I went out dancing with Melissa again.  It was pretty fun, but I only had one drink early on in the night because I was the designated driver.  It was bizarre, though.  The more the night moved along, the more the atmosphere got a very sexual feeling.  Toward 1:30AM the beat was unrelenting, bodies were gyrating, and strangers were groping one another emphatically.  I had never witnessed anything like this in real life, but it seemed that everyone on the dance floor was entranced in some secret bond of forbidden desire that we were only free to eminate because the social act of dancing permitted otherwise forbidden movements.  After this aura continued for quite some time, I jokingly said to Melissa that if the music didn't stop soon, an orgy was going to break out.  She agreed with a smile.  Luckily for us (or sadly, depending on your perspective), it was closing time, but I wonder if it had continued just what would have occurred.  But because the crowd had seemed a bit older, I decided that I didn't want go back on a Friday again.  The younger crowd seems to only appear on Saturdays for some reason, but after last Friday, I'm no longer so certain.  Oh, have I mentioned that my libido is out of whack?  Ha ha, things are changing in ways I never thought could happen.  First of all, I have bought about half of a new wardrobe.  The clothes fit now, and they show off a shape that is not by any means perfect, but it's in the realm of normalcy.  But here is the secret key: I have bought new underwear.  It may be stupid, but I have a terrible history with my skibbies.  Until a few weeks ago, I hadn't worn them for nearly two and a half years.  I was too fat and they hurt too much.  I was free ballin'.  (I know, gross.)  Well, I had retrieved some older underwear from a forgotten drawer.  They weren't in terrible shape, but they weren't great either.  So I decided that with my new wardrobe, I should get new underwear.  It should be noted that I've never worn anything more glamorous than Fruit of the Loom, and they were stretched and beginning to look their age.  So in the spirit of my sexual revolution, I opted for some underwear that were more on the risk-ay side of things, but still within sane jurisdiction.  First of all, these ones fit.  They are skin tight, which means they don't bunch up into the wedgie from hell when I pull up my new tight fitting jeans.  I didn't even know that underwear could do that.  I had always had problems with this.  But there's more!  Oh, so much more!  They are also black!  I've never owned anything but boring old tighty-whities (except for a short stint of gray boxer-briefs in my teens... ouch, they hurt the thighs).  It's doesn't make a difference on the outside, but it makes a world of difference on the inside.  It's like I'm carrying a dirty little secret under this innocent facade, and nobody knows about it.  All of these new clothes actually make me feel attractive on some level.  Now the only thing holding me back is my walking.  I know this for a reason, though.  There is a new element in the equation of social and sexual conquest.  Now when I meet a girl for the first time, I can see that she thinks I'm attractive for just a split second when she first sees my face and body, but then she snaps out of it when the reality of my wheelchair kicks in.  I've always had physically attractive friends during my adult life for some reason, but for the first time ever I can see that some of these attractive women are actually checking me out for one quick millisecond.  So many girls dance with me in the bar.  They never did that before.  Even for all of my personality, the girls never took to me like they do now.  I know they don't feel threatened, but what could be better than dancing with a good looking guy who isn't threatening, right?  I suppose my innocent face does work to my advantage after all.  Women trust me the second they meet me.  And why shouldn't they?  I'm a nice guy who is very respectful to women.  I'm just in libido overdrive right now.  It's like my body is trying to make up for lost time.  The body hair is getting a little gross, though.  It's not even noticeable except to me.  I find one hair somewhere and gross out with a compelling necessity to remove it at once.  There are certain places hair doesn't belong.  The nipples, back, and the space between eyebrows are at the top of that list.  I will not tolerate them if I don't have to.  I am not afraid of tweezers.  And speaking of bathroom mirror discoveries, yesterday I was getting dressed after my shower.  I stood up to pull of the pants, but suddenly wondered what my body would look like if my belly didn't hang down so low.  So with a quick lift, my jaw dropped.  The bottom half of my body, at least from the side, looks extremely thin.  Not even normal thin, but in that no muscle, puny kind of way.  I was so happy that I could see all of this suffering was paying off, but it also made me realize just how far I still have to go.  But since then I have redoubled my efforts and dedication to this whole thing.  I need to start working on my legs, though.  They are in serious peril.  Well, tomorrow is the beginning of my servitude back at home, so what better time to start a regimen of standing and walking exercises.  I also want to have a nice butt!  And my previously cancelled plans for a night of karaoke have been reenstated.  This Friday I will accompany my friend David and his wife to Colchester, I'm guessing to my old stomping ground of sorts, where we will sing the night away.  Then on Saturday I have another karaoke engagement here in my hometown that has been planned for a long time.  The closeness of the dates is truly coincedence, but needless to say, I will be getting my fair share of singing done this weekend.  Aww, how the people love me!  And as a final note, tonight I finished an amazing book with an incredible premise.  It is the much recently noted book, The Da Vinci Code, which everyone has heard about.  And with good cause.  The plot is interesting enough, but it's the real life facts that the story is based around that are so amazing.  It involves secret societies, a search for the Holy Grail, and opposing theories on the history of Christianity.  But warning, it is not for those avoiding temptation of faith and belief systems.  This book is largely based on actual gospels, testimonies, and documents, putting up an excellent argument that I'm sure you would not be hearing for the first time.  I had always wondered about a lot of the Bible and foundations of Christianity, but this book is like a condensed presentation of the basic beliefs of many learned people.  But beware, it will call into question everything you ever thought you knew about Christianity... unless you don't know anything.  Even then it's still an outstanding read if only for its historical and linguistic progression information.  You will learn a lot about the origin of words we use today that you never knew corrolated with such in depth meanings.  It's about 450 pages, and I read it in two days.  It was the last copy at the store and the woman at the counter told me it was worth all of the trouble I had had with their automated system of payment.  So anyway, I finally get to sleep in tomorrow and it's supposed to be up around twenty-five degrees, then thirty-five the next day.  Spring is finally poking its subtle head through the tormentuous seal of a foreboding and unrelenting winter.  Things are looking up for a change.
February 18, 2004
I got to cross another thing off my list today.  Earlier I went to Walmart with my mother and sister.  While there, I picked out a whole bunch of clothes without even trying them on.  When I got home, I tried everything on and all of it fit perfectly.  These are all 3X shirts, but I don't care.  I can finally buy clothes off the rack again!  I also bought a pair of pants with a size 42 waist, but they were regular fit.  Up until now, the smallest jeans I had were size 46 baggy fit.  Now the jeans I bought today went on, but only after about ten minutes of perseverance and desperate prayer.  I must have burned quite a few calories just putting those suckers on, but I'm now wearing them and loving it.  It has always been that my pants were tight when sitting, but loose when I would stand.  These pants cause no such dilemma.  They are tight both ways, but I am just ecstatic that I could button them at all.  I can't wait to try them out this weekend.  I also bought a hooded sweatshirt and a whole bunch of new chokers and necklaces.  I should never be at a loss for accessories now.  And that's another thing, is it just me or has my fashion sense gotten better as I've lost weight?  Maybe I was always a fashionista, but the stuff just wouldn't fit me.  I actually wear normal clothing again.  It's so wonderful!  I also did the standing and walking exercises yesterday.  They were hard, but I think I can conquer this thing if I only stick with it.  My ass is killing me today, but in a good "I feel better for having done it" way.  I'm going to do them again later today after I finish helping the kids with their homework.  I've also been sticking to eating more healthy like a pro.  Even today I went to Burger King with Mom, but I wasn't going to get anything.  Then I saw their new low-carb menu and that they had these chicken sandwiches with only five grams of fat in them.  I didn't eat the bread, of course, but it was so delicious and I got protein and low levels of bad stuff to eat.  I was very happy with it.  I've decided that I'd much prefer to be thin than to have whatever bad food I'm being tempted with at any given moment.  I also made a delicious stir-fry yesterday with tomato sauce in it.  Tres magnifique!  The only problem is that everybody in the family keeps eating it on me.  Oh well, I guess I can't have my stir-fry and eat it too.  So on to smaller and better things.  It was also warm and very sunny today.  Things are finally improving.  I'm gaining control and finding my way.
February 29, 2004
Once again I'm a finalist for the State Karaoke Competition.  I took first place in the country music category on Friday night.  I had a lot of fun and Heather came along with me.  And I may actually have a real chance this time around.  This year there are new, and much more fair, judges.  The competition is also separating country music and rock categories, which was not the case last year.  It was always biased before because the contest is sponsored by a rock station.  But let's go back to the beginning, which starts exactly one week earlier.  On the previous Friday, I accompanied a couple of friends for a night on the town.  David and I went for pizza while Mary had a job to perform before we hit the bar.  So Dave and I were sitting at the booth eating our salads when I realized the horrible mistake.  I had eaten two big pieces of broccoli quite quickly right off the bat when we started eating.  I figured they would pass in a few minutes because I hadn't thrown up in weeks and figured my stomach was simply getting used to my abusive ways.  Both luckily and unluckily, this is not the case.  After about ten minutes, it became apparent that the veggies weren't going to pass.  I headed to the bathroom and we all know that what doesn't go down must come up.  It wasn't pretty, but I felt much better when it was over.  So we went to the karaoke bar after picking up Mary.  When we got there, it was the second night of three contest preliminary rounds.  I hadn't even known there was a competition, so I signed up to sing when that part would be all done.  While sitting there, I realized that one of the judges was my old highschool chorus teacher.  I knew that she had judged them before and I was very happy to see her.  So we got to mingling and whatnot.  She promised to stay and here me sing one song before she left.  Well, she didn't have to wait long.  Within a few minutes I was up and belting out a tune.  When it was over, the place exploded.  I never got so many pats on the back as I did that night.  As soon as I got back to my table where David and Mary were waiting, both judges ran up to me and said I needed to be in the competition and that I was easily the best singer they had heard all night.  I'm sure I started blushing, and it certainly didn't help that other random people in the bar kept coming up and telling me the same thing, including some stranger who threw her arm around me and told me that I was one of the best singers she had ever heard.  Bubba (nickname for my old highschool teacher) didn't really say much, but just smiled.  That's her way.  She's a bit shy.  I didn't know if I was going to go back the next week, but I promised that I would try.  Well, when I got home the next day after spending the night at Dave and Mary's house, my parents were kicking around the idea of a vacation.  You see, we have never planned a vacation once ever in my entire life.  No matter where it is to, my parents decide they want to go somewhere and we would leave a couple of hours later.  It's a very stressful way of going about things.  Well anyway, they decided that they couldn't afford it and didn't have the time, but really wanted to go, and on and on...  So they did end up going, but not until the next day.  I didn't really mind.  I welcomed the break from having so many people in the house, and I would be getting ten more dollars per day than I usually do.  Thomas and Curt would still be around, also.  Not a whole lot happened over the first few days.  Then I got a call from Heather, who I had invited to go to the last qualifying round of karaoke with me.  She said she would like to go, Friday night we left.  She had never done real karaoke before, except for an event held at her school one time.  Unfortunately, the song selection didn't have many of the songs that she knew, so she just picked one that she recognized.  It was extremely low for her voice and came out less than perfect, but it didn't dishearten her.  It was an obvious case of poor song selection.  She's really a good singer.  I've heard her.  But anyway, my turn finally rolled around.  People screamed.  I took first place.  Now I have to go back next week for the second round.  Song selection is critical, but I'm confident.  I mean, seriously, what's the worst that could happen?  Actually, the worst did happen at an unrelated event.  For weeks I was supposed to sing with the band that I have mentioned before.  I have said before that I was a little apprehensive about singing with them.  They never practice because they've been singing together so long.  But I didn't realize just how locked into their song selection they were.  They only knew old songs from at least thirty years ago or older.  So they forgot that I was even supposed to sing with them.  While they were performing, I had climbed up on the stage with the help my dad.  I was waiting when they said they were going to play the last song.  I still hadn't sung yet, and when my dad's friend turned around and saw me there, they announced that they had a guest singer.  They didn't know the song I wanted to sing, so I chose a very simply old song that they thought they could pound out.  Keep in mind that these band members are pushing sixty.  So they didn't know the song, played it in the wrong key, and then played it really fast.  It was a slow song and they were just pounding away.  It was utter humiliation.  It sounded like crap.  So I learned two things that night.  First, don't ever sing with a band you have never practiced with.  Second, everybody has a bad performance no matter how good they are, so stay humble.  You really look like an ass when you tell everybody how great you are then get up and make a damn fool of yourself by sounding like you've never even sang the song.  Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that great stuff.  So here I find myself going through one of the worst Crap Days ever.  I've only been up forty minutes and been to the bathroom five times.  I suppose it serves me right after all of the bad stuff I ate yesterday.  It was my sister's twelfth birthday.  I had lots of pizza (sans crust) and a little bit of ice cream and cake.  I've also been drinking caffeine free Diet Coke a lot instead of water.  I know, bad Danny!  Bit it just tastes so damn good!  We watched five movies and still have one left over.  None of them were outstanding, but I scared myself shitless watching They.  It's not that it was overly terrifying, but I'm one of those people who just cannot watch scary movies.  I can read anything, but I freak out terrible from watching it.  The ending was disappointing anyway.  So I am getting back on my healthy track today.  It's blueberries and Richard Simmons from here on out.  At least until the next birthday... Kidding!  (Man, you would think being the owner, I wouldn't have to watch where I step so much!  You would think!)

Sign my Guestbook or drop me an email through my Contact page!