"You're a 126lbs less attractive to flesh eating zombies than you used to be, and you can now outrun them!" - My Croatian Conscience
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| Daniel-san. Yes, this is how hard we laughed at the microflat. |
My Croatian Conscience, Daniel-san, came for a visit this weekend and was...wait for it...REALLY NICE TO ME! He didn't tease me about my weight, he didn't make any off-colour remarks, nor did he have a laugh at my expense...he was, in fact, a perfect gentleman. And, I think I know the reason why: I now weigh less than him, and for years I was at least 15...30...50...90 pounds more than him.
It was a little strange for both of us...in fact, we had to reminisce about the fat old days in Tokyo when he would razz me for being a big western gaijin. We joked about our futon placement in his microflat. Danijel rolled out his futon on the floor, we were on the wooden framed futon just to the right of that. Because of the close proximity (remember he lived in a tiny apartment of 180 square feet in total) and the difference in height, should I have rolled over in my sleep...I would have crushed my conscience to a pulp. He would have had to call into work flat!
It was I who got to joke about eating, weight, and exercise this time. Daniel-san, who had recently returned from a cruise...which pretty much means he rode a buffet around the Yucatan...made the extra effort to tack on a quick trip to Victoria to see me (or at least I think he came to see me, unless he came to see the slimmer version of my husband...slimmer, Daniel, not gayer...haha). The least I could do was bug him about bugging me for so many years...and have a delightful 24 hours chatting with my conscience.
It was a little strange for both of us...in fact, we had to reminisce about the fat old days in Tokyo when he would razz me for being a big western gaijin. We joked about our futon placement in his microflat. Danijel rolled out his futon on the floor, we were on the wooden framed futon just to the right of that. Because of the close proximity (remember he lived in a tiny apartment of 180 square feet in total) and the difference in height, should I have rolled over in my sleep...I would have crushed my conscience to a pulp. He would have had to call into work flat!
It was I who got to joke about eating, weight, and exercise this time. Daniel-san, who had recently returned from a cruise...which pretty much means he rode a buffet around the Yucatan...made the extra effort to tack on a quick trip to Victoria to see me (or at least I think he came to see me, unless he came to see the slimmer version of my husband...slimmer, Daniel, not gayer...haha). The least I could do was bug him about bugging me for so many years...and have a delightful 24 hours chatting with my conscience.
And speaking scary things...Croatians, zombies, re-animated creatures, and vampires...which of those would I most like to be? And let's look at this from all angles, shall we?
Zombies: Zombies don't crave carbs. This is a good thing. As a food-obsessed fat-girl, I have to admire their absolute adherence to a rather strict diet. A diet of...well....brains. I wish I could be more zombie-like in that way...their stick-to-it-iveness, not their lust for brains. Well done zombies, you have fantastic will-power...though, I think it's more of an unhealthy fetish. But, you can't fault zombies for that...they're dead. They don't know any better.
Frankenstein's Monsters: Finally, I can pick and choose my own parts! Actually, someone else would have to pick my bits because I would be a bunch of other dead people scattered about the lab until the doctor arranged the new me just so, sewed me together, shot some electricity through me, and hooked me up with a cool greenish-hued guy with bolts in his neck and staples in his head. Which just goes to show that you should be VERY careful when picking a plastic surgeon (and/or matchmaker), not only do you get a new bod, but a date out of it. However, I have a new bod, I'm married, and with my knee the way it is, I am already walking like the bride.
Next.
I'm currently suffering from a severe case of Halloweenitus. I can't believe how many costume possibilities have opened up for me having lost all this weight. And, no, I'm not going as a "sexy" something...nurse, police officer, Croatian what have you. Costumes like that are for bar stars who don't know what to be for Samhain. No, I'm going pretty traditional this year...Dr. Frank-N-Furter.
Don't get strung out
By the way I look
Don't judge a book by its cover
I'm not much of a man
By the light of day
But by night I'm one hell of a lover
I'm just a sweet transvestite
From Transexual, Transylvania
By the way I look
Don't judge a book by its cover
I'm not much of a man
By the light of day
But by night I'm one hell of a lover
I'm just a sweet transvestite
From Transexual, Transylvania
-
The Rocky Horror Show
