Introduction

On new years 2010, i told myself that this year would be different. I had returned from the army 4 years earlier but I still wasn't home. i had moved 10 or so times in my life and even though i own lots of things, all of them fit into boxes. All my possessions can be packed into 1 trailer or 3 truckloads and unpacked into a bedroom size space within 24 hours at all times.

I had struggled with a weight problem for most of my life, (even through the army). my weight never really hurt my dance card, but i always felt fat. I had a girlfriend for most of my life (though I was close with very few of them) but i knew, "i was what someone had settled for" (at least physically) and that subconscious message affected the way i thought about women ever since. my father had joked that i was the only man in Phoenix that refused to take his shirt off. The same held true in Iraq.

In Iraq my dad told me about the bar he'd bought. A swank jazz club full of cougars and the Arizona elite. At the time (2004) soldiers were treated like rock-stars. guys would make sure to flash their military id so the whole bar could buy them drinks all night long. and they were happy to do it. We were fucking war heroes and those were good times. After Iraq I had one more year in Germany.

Germany was like living in Saving Private Ryan except there's no war, everyone under 30 speaks English and the nightclubs are all open till 5. I loved it there; I had already reinvented myself once to make new friends- Great friends. But after 12 months in Iraq, some had died, some went home, some were transferred, some had been made into real heroes, others... demoted in disgrace. Shifting tides told me to go home. So i called the states and told my dad I’d help run his bar, which by this time was a total mess. My parents also decided it was time to tell me that they'd gotten divorced... And by the way, "you may have a step-brother."

I spent the subsequent 3 years desperately trying to save my father’s restaurant as it sank slowly into a dismal economy which had already taken my war money and my college fund. Every 3 months... things'll be better in 3 months... 3 months later, we would sit around and talk about how we would've been better off closed (but we can't due to contractual obligations). The restaurant was a money pit and took millions of dollars before my father called it quits. Some of the only good things to come out of that restaurant were a few good friends and tales of romance. Also, a happy accident of the recession was that someone had defaulted on a payment to my parents for a property they had sold. They took back the property and continued to run it in order to make ends meet.

With no bartending job, I tried being a private investigator but found the work tedious and time consuming. I got a job watching the door at a strip club and found the easiest work that this great land has to offer. I would spend my day watching naked women and taking palmed twenty dollar bills. Eventually they were tens, then fives. Before long the guys were fighting for hours and I wasn’t the biggest guy there. my mother and sister had convinced me to return to school and my new best friend had convinced me i was a writer. off i went, swinging my lunchbox as I skipped, back to community college.

School was less of an issue after the army. My English teacher told me i should look into a creative writing class and gave me a professors name. I took the class and enjoyed it very much. But I started to notice that my classmates at the community college were failing to challenge me.

As if to answer my prayers, the veterans affairs guy says, “hey, ya know there’s a new g.i. bill coming out. I think you qualify.” Next thing I know, all my bills are paid for. All I have to do is go to school. Any school. So I quit my job and transferred to asu. Once I got there, I started to notice the people. They were smarter… smarter than me? And they were gorgeous. Like trendy statues. The frat boys especially.. they all had muscles like athletes. That’s the difference. White collars can spot each other. The haves can differentiate themselves from the have nots. That’s why college is so important. I realized that if I wanted to be anything better than a doorman at a strip club I’d need to drop 70 pounds, get a degree, stop dressing like a goon, and develop some social skills. I would have to fit in. So I did.

for the first time in my life, a doctor can't tell me i'm obese, even though he may not agree with the way i got the weight off. i'm single for the first time in three years, and more importantly, i can flirt with girls and get them to flirt back. my confidence never needed a boost, but the new-found attention makes me feel unstoppable.

I spent some money on new clothes to fit the smaller me and they’re much nicer than my old ones. I have two years left before the military cuts my benefits. Hopefully I can get a bachelors by then and hopefully there’ll be a job to compete for.

In the mean time I get to enjoy the life I always wanted but never had time for. This year’s activities include: A camping trip, MC Chris live in concert, Electric Daisy Carnival, Disneyland, Burning Man. Among others. At the time of writing some have already taken place while others have yet to occur. It became obvious very early this year that things were about to be different and as the events unfolded, I realized that I could float through the nebulous void of space for eternity thinking back and trying to remember how it all happened. And that’s why I started to write here. Musings, stories, transformational revelations all laid bare for anyone who cares to read. Leave a comment if you like.

-L