Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS page 100

[Gay Panda]

So do tell - was the phone under kitty?

The phone was NOT under the kitty. I thought that I'd left it on my bedside table, but it appeared on the table by my recliner under my jury summons. Because THAT'S the way to party on January 2nd! Up yours, civic duty!

[Gay Panda]

Oh Panda, your journal really is the highlight of my day every time you post xD It almost makes me want to start a journal. But I shan't, for it would rarely be updated, and when it was, it would be filled with my recent failures. I'm not good at primal living at all! xD
She says, munching on a packet of crisps. -_-;

I love to be someone's highlight. And if you ever start a journal, go ahead and fill it with your failures. Living this way, when what is cheap and easy to eat IS RIGHT THERE IN YOUR FACE ALL THE TIME, can be very difficult. It helps me to read about how other people fail, what circumstances set it up, how far they slid, and then how they picked themselves back up. Then I'm not so hard on myself for when I have Panda Fail, because pretty much everyone goes through the same thing.

[Gay Panda]

There's another store that I frequent that is also doing a holiday donation thing. I was going to buy a bag or two of groceries. Then I realized that the $5 bag and the $15 bag include chips. Pasta, well, most people think that's healthy. Chips?!

This totally makes me want to find a store in my area doing the Buy A Bag, just so I can root around in one and see what's inside!

[ottercat]

You should try the butter tea, it's not greasy at all!

[Gay Panda]

Kudos, Panda, Kudos to you!

Thanks, Griffin! All was looking lost in Lego Land, but I battled Voldemort to a fiery finish (in Book 5) and my thumbs on the joystick counted as exercise.

[Gay Panda]

I hope you won't abandon vegetables altogether!

When I go to restaurants, I always order a salad. And there are my vegetables.

[Paleobird]

You should try the butter tea, it's not greasy at all!

I have been drinking this a lot lately. I wish I could find some real yak butter so I could be authentically Tibetan about it but raw grassfed butter in a cup of rooibos is pretty close. I found on the net a place that was willing to sell me a whole yak but nobody selling yak butter. I don't think a yak would be happy in my back yard.

[Gay Panda]

Oh, my sweet pasdf91aew,

Every day I watch the sunset and think of the special times we once shared, when all was right with the world because I was in your arms. You laughed at my jokes. You found me sexy in Lipstick Jammie Pants. You dipped grapes in melted yak butter and fed them to me by hand while Drop Dead Diva played on my television. Oh, no, that was back when it was OUR television.

Why wasn't I enough? What could I not give you? Do you not know the lengths that I would have gone to please you? But you would not even let me try! Instead you chased after athomeontherange, after ApexPredator and Zoebird, even bloodorchid! You are not even her type! Pasdf91aew, there are people in this world who would love to have ONE partner, and here you are, chasing after FIVE. This is exactly why we didn't work, darling. Did you not see the irony in your favorite Bob Marley song being One Love, One Heart? Gay Panda did, and it broke Gay Panda's heart.

So do not visit my journal and flaunt what we used to have. That is just cruel, and I want to believe that you are a better troll than that.

Love,
Gay Panda

[bloodorchid]

i saw

even bloodorchid!

and i was like HEY! o:

and then i saw

You are not even her type!

and then i was 'oh.. yeah!'

[Gay Panda]

Years ago, Gay Panda lied on an official document.

In the vast array of crimes that one can commit, mine would not even make a blip. While filling out my license renewal, Name: Gay Panda, Address: Magical Bamboo Forest, Height: 5’9”, I hesitated at the box demanding Weight. How rude! That’s not state business! I have to show my license to people all the time! This isn’t public information, any more than if I wear boxers, briefs, or French-cut bikinis. Preemptively humiliated at such exposure, my pen wavered above the box.

The truth was that I did not know my weight exactly, since I had not stood on my scale in the last few days. But I could say with confidence that I was over 200 pounds, and this is something that I could not bear to admit even to a complete stranger at the DMV who would process my form with no interest unless the answer was -14 or 3,067 or Q. I liked the idea of saying my weight is the variable Q, a polite code for BUZZ OFF I’M FAT.

I weigh Q.

I skipped the box and filled out the rest of the form until it could no longer be avoided. I had to put in something, I was NOT going to weigh myself (because then I would know and that would make a lie more egregious), and if I wrote Q, I’d be confronted since nobody but me would know what Q means. I was NOT going to put in 200, even if that was also a lie since I was above it.

Gay Panda was raised in a strict school; lying was unconscionable. I’m not talking about white lies; those are a necessary evil to spare feelings. When a particularly hideous student in my class confessed that he loved me, I could not answer that Teacher eagerly waited for the bus every afternoon in order to be free of his incessant crying, whining, spitting, swearing, and assaults. I answered that I was glad to have him in my room. I tell white lies when given odd gifts like a vase that won’t stand up, or when someone has made a meal for me and it contains a loathsome ingredient like broccoli. Yum!

But this lie was to spare my own feelings, not someone else’s. And I KNEW that my weight hadn’t shot down in the days since my last weigh-in. Yet I could not bring myself to write 200 in the box. On my first license acquired at age 17, I was 140. I was tempted just to write that again, because it was what I should weigh at my height. But no one would ever believe it.

I weigh Q.

I wrote 190. After all, I’d zoomed past 190 on my Antidepressant Rocketship Adventure Ride. It was true in the past, and if ever I gained the ability to control time, it could be true again! 190. That’s not as scary as 200 (or the truth that I was even higher than that). 190 meant that I had a problem, yet somehow it wasn’t as daunting. After all, 190 is so close to 189, and the 180s aren’t too freaky. The 180s snuggle next to the 170s, and the 170s are neighbors with the 160s where lies the top range of what I should be. So 190 it was!

Although I limboed under the 190 bar a couple of months ago, it was just yesterday I realized that I am smaller than what my license claims me to be. Half of me wants to fill out the renewal form again just to write 183 (even if that is also not exactly the truth since I am 183.4*) and the other half of me still wants to write Q. Not because I’m that neurotic about 183 (.4), but because the topic of weight is so emotionally laden that I don’t like having it displayed in a public forum**.

I weigh Q. Suck on that, DMV.