Yeah, I know the color balance of this pic is lousy. I’ll post more later with better color. But I wanted to get this one up today.
On January 19, 2008, this is me at 190 pounds. The guy you’re looking at is 5 feet 3 inches tall. I like to say “I carry it well,” but the truth is, from inside, being like this doesn’t feel good at all. I DON’T carry it well. I gasp, I labor, I trudge. It’s like I’m carrying around a 45-pound backpack, 24 hours a day.
When I go to the zoo, the lady rhinos come over and wink at me. I kept swatting at an annoying fly a few days ago before I realized it was a small moon in orbit. I was backing up yesterday and heard a beeping sound.
I want to change that. I’m going to do it publicly in order to put myself on the hook in front of everybody for actually accomplishing it. Which makes me nervous. What if I fail? I mean, *I* know I’m a complete doofus, but I don’t necessarily want everybody else to know it.
Anyway, here I am at Day 1. My expression looks like “I’m going to eat you and your entire family,” but it’s really me laughing at the ridiculousness of being this big.
The last straw was when Macy’s contacted me and asked me if I’d like to be in this year’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. On guy wires.