Fog Stew: Slurping the Cranial Vapor

I used to be fat.

Sounds like the first step. Admitting it.

"Hello. My name is Trina. And I used to be fat."

This time last year I weighed about two hundred pounds. One hundred ninety-six of them, precisely. Fast forward one mammoth year, incalculable heaps of running, and a hefty load of food I didn't eat weighing on my mind, and I sloughed seventy-three pounds. That's down to one twenty-three if you're counting (I know I am).

Seems fairly average, perhaps even a smidgen pudgy by "ordinary people" standards. But it's downright wee by former comparisons. I was stretched to bursting in my fat suit; miserable, but hanging the "You don't like me, well fuck you, I'm happy the way I am" placard on my stoop. But secretly I thought if I could just lose xxx amount of weight, my "inner light would shine through and I could be free to be my 'true self'" and all that shit.

And truly, what a load of shit that has turned out to be.

First of all, it's about the most passively voiced cliche ever lazily composed. Second, it dismisses all the inevitable changes that occur between "Gluttony Guy from Se7en Katrina" and "Looks Pretty Regular, But Svelte by Comparison Trina." Truly, I'm healthier and look better. But a dangerous thing happens when you lose weight exponentially: it becomes addictive. Again, cliche, trite, overused verbiage. But seriously, whatever I do, it's never enough.
"I don't look that good, it's just by comparison that I look normal."
"I look alright, if you think stretch marks and loose skin are attractive."

Women and their distorted self-images. I've gone from not caring what other people think to wondering how I fell into actually paying attention to all the derisive, self-loathing diatribe positively packaged and reconfigured to make women feel like shit about themselves. How did that happen to me? My parents raised me to by a Reasoned Skeptic. This person who thinks she'll look better if she loses five more pounds --that's not me! "What the hell?" I ask.

But the whole carnival mirror perception of myself is, sadly, beans compared to the actual physiological upheaval pillaging my body. Apparently, though I do not have an eating disorder, the affects of losing a large amount of weight in a small span of time are quite similar. Amenorrhea, loss of hair, mood irregularities, all that fun business. My point here is that, I thought losing weight would help me feel infinitely better about myself. I thought it would polish me to shininess, not dull my glow! In the end, I've become restless, moody, dissatisfied, spacey. Before all this, all the "allys" in my life (mentally, physically, sexually, socially) were relatively aligned. I was focused, aware, sharp, motivated. Now, I'm distracted and my mind wanders off on its own... (Oooo, a light bulb...) Mostly, it wanders off toward indifference. For the past several months, I have simply not given one solitary shit. It's frustrating.

I see and hear everything and everyone, but can't seem to process any of it. Nothing sticks. No sensations (except taste). Touch is... No, touch doesn't work, either. Emotions: Irritation and blank. Raging irritation. Or blank. Those are my two modes. I churn idle dribble through my head all day, but can't remember a single thing that floated by. I'm only really happy right after I finish running --but almost no other time. Runner's high and all that.

I'm glad that I have the ability to change, even though I'm not taking appropriate advantage of that particular skill right now. And I know how incredibly blessed I am. Again, I realize this all tastes overwhelming like complaining (which I do waaay to much of) and melodramatic threnodies, but I really only mean to write it all down. Throw it all up. It might be the only way I'll remember what the hell I was thinking when the sun comes back out.

Podunk: An Introduction.

I'm Trina.

Hi.

I love five dollar words. Sesquipedalian. It is both an awesome word and a working description of me. Also I like funny words. Here are a couple of dandies to enjoy until later: labeling anything 'Spooky', creepy peeper, homeskillet, behelmeted, Podunk.

I am a mulit-hat wearer at a tiny television station in a Podunk town in a Podunk county in the land God put on hold while He played horseshoes with Gabriel that first week of things. I guess He got bored with eastern Kentucky. Slapped a couple of hills on the map to serve as a barrier to modern progress, and that's about it. Adam Smith would purse his lips at us and no mistake. But I mostly enjoy my current situation, so I'm still here because I want to be...for the moment, anyway.

My job is complex and undefinable, given, as I already mentioned, the many coverings occupying my head. Officially, I'm the "Accounts Manager & Graphic Artist for the Advertising and Production Division of the Local Cable Company." (That's quite difficult to fit on a business card.) Some of my job duties could be lumped into the "Secretarial / Administrative Assistance" category. My main focus, though, is more on the creative end of things. I do most (and by most, I mean "mostly all") copy writing, editing, advertisement branding, and design for our company and for small-town businesses charting the choppy and challenging waters of cable advertisement.

The biggest part of my job is thankfully also my favorite: single-handedly running the local origination billboard channel that runs about 20 hours every day. Most cable companies have one of these channels in some form or other. I write and design those twenty second advertisements promoting local businesses, events, and 'stuff fer sale.' I hate to be prideful about it (but I'm going to anyway), but the channel has improved dramatically under my tutelage. To exemplify the state of the channel when I started about two years ago, a billboard was run on-air advertising a "Slay Bed Fer Sale" -that is, a sleigh bed. I would not lie about it. I simply would not. Too, there was the "mistickle say-ants" (or mystical seance, as it might be called elsewhere in the English-speaking world). You just can't make up the people and interactions I've experienced since I began my first "real job" here.

Maybe some of ponderous ramblings that leak out of my head into this place will spark something. Diversion? Cachinnation, I hope. Pity probably. Maybe concern for my mental health.

Yeah, probably that one.

It’s been far too long. It seems that it’s always boredom or stress here lately.

So in order to inject a little whimsy into my small existence, I began adding fun messages to the crawl on the billboard channel. (Now, this is a new thing, mind you, so I haven’t progressed very far with it.) I’ve started small, by adding (from my recently procurred list of fun "National Days") a new "Day" each morning to the crawl to run for the duration of the work day. "Peanut Butter and Jelly Day," for instance, or "Alfred Hitchcock Day".

Of course, anything new or different here is met with a less than enthusiastic response. The first time I instituted this bit of glee, on "National Frozen Food Day", I encouraged the viewing public to "Visit your local grocery store: April __ is National Frozen Food Day!". A merry little note from sweet, convivial Mitten. I rejoiced.

However, my joy was quashed post-haste. Not an hour later some old woman called in and demanded, "Uh, yeah. What is that ’Frozen Food’ thing running on the bottom of the screen?"

Now, a co-worker, having answered the phone, had no clue to what she was referring and thusly handed the phone to me. Again, the question was posed: "What on earth is that "National Frozen Food" thing?"

"That’s what today is," I answered, "It’s just a day, a national day. Something fun. You know, like trivia?" (All sense of normal human speech, of course, having gone straight out the window, such was my chagrin.)

"Oh, weeeellll. My friend here was a wantin’ to know whut that wuz."

And that was that. I get irritated entirely too often. But I mean really, what was the purpose. It was trivia. It was just something fun. No need to pull out the "UH! What is that?" on me!

My excitement about the whimsy lessened considerably for the next week or so. But, I mean, there are just too many fun days to pass up. So today, the most kick ass day so far, is "Name Yourself Day." Obviously, this was not to missed. So boldly I urged all the viewers in TV Land to celebrate the day. "April 9th is "National Name Yourself Day!" You can call me Pete...."

Yup! Pete. All day long. Then, as an afterthought, I changed another part of the crawl. The crawl, in all its audacious glory, now reads, "To Advertise on this Channel, Contact Pete at (555) 555-5555....."

HA! Victory! Now we’ll see if anyone calls asking for Pete....