Fake Conversations Sometimes Make me Feel Good

Do you ever have that where you make up a conversation you could potentially have, and somehow just creating it out of the ether makes you feel a little happier or better in some way?

In this specific little narrative, I was driving home listening to a song that was a bit of a tearjerker since it reminded me of something that was going on in my life. Tears were, thus, jerked. I left my car hurriedly for my apartment, walked into the building and I happened upon my neighbour (Note: this was not an actual neighbour, nor do I really have a form for this neighbour. My only idea about this person is that they were generally attractive, but could be of either gender (that is to say, I'm not actively attracted to this person, but they are good looking.).)

They notice my tears and ask whether everything is okay. My imagined reply is as follows (as I am noticebly shaken up): "No..it was a song.... It's music."

The person looks back at me with a kind, understanding smile and nods in the most minute way possible. I smile more than I expected to and we part ways.

"Realists" < Hitler

I have recently concluded that no one is a bigger asshole than a person who describes him or herself as a "realist." What an arrogant statement.

First of all, when you're essentially saying is that you think you have a realistic worldview. Really? Do you know anyone else who would consider their worldview realistic? Perhaps... everyone?

Why would anyone have a worldview that they consider to be unrealistic? That's just... impractical.

I suppose the only example I can think of is someone who is halleucinating and realizes they are doing so. that would be the one situation where someone would look at the world and think, "man, my perception of things is way off right now. I sure can't wait until this acid wears off."

It's the same as when people call themselves an optimist or pessimist. That is invariably a lie. By saying that, you're claiming that you have an unfairly positive or negative view about the world, thus expressing that you know the world isn't really as sunny or bleak as you're painting it to be. Therefore, you are not an optimist or pessimist. You are a fucking realist who speaks positively, possibly so more people like him or her.

However, this is certainly not as heinous as claiming to be a realist. To anyone who has ever called themself a realist, I sincerely hope you go jump off of something.

Still Alive

Hey everybody (or, probably more accurately, nobody),

I just posted part two of the Fat Acceptance Movement to get back into the swing of things a bit here. It isn't perfect but I had most of it and it just needed a polish, so I figured why waste the copy?

I've been having a few writing ideas lately so I think it may be somewhat likely that I might consider starting to write in this blog again, possibly. I can't know for sure.

So this is really just a post so that I'm posting something so you can't say I never post anything. See! I do.

Jason

Lululemon and the Fat Acceptance Movement Part 2

This is part two of the posts, which explains why there is almost no mention of Lululemon. I suggest reading the earlier post below (and the disclaimer) before you dive into this one.

I've never been sure of what to make of the so-called Fat Acceptance Movement. To me, it's very much a two-sided issue. Obviously, making someone feel bad about their appearance is never going to help them, and will almost always hurt. There are often psychological issues involved in weight gain, and some people are naturally bigger than others. On the other hand, numerous studies have shown we are way heavier than we were a couple decades ago, suggesting genetics is not the sole problem--and in most cases, it isn't even the major one.

What bothers me about the Fat Power gang is that their movement is based on a couple premises that I think are either untrue or just oversimplifications: that "diets don't work" and that health is independent of weight.

While I agree that "dieting" is not a good way to improve one's health (because it is, by definition, a temporary state, and often depraving), a healthy diet (one that minimizes processed/restaurant foods) absolutely will. You may not lose all of the weight you would like to, but you will certainly feel a lot better, especially if combined with exercise. And no, weight is not an absolute indicator of health. But being overweight absolutely does increase the likelihood of cardiovascular disease, diabetes and certain cancers.

One thing I do agree with the Fat Acceptance Movement on is that overweight and obese people do face discrimination. They are invariably judged and frequently ridiculed. I consider myself quite sensitive about these issues and I still admit that I'll probably never meet an overweight person and have it not affect my view of them at least slightly.

And while I judge almost everyone at the grocery store for buying foodstuffs rather than actual food, I judge overweight people extra hard. This is absolutely not fair because no one should eat a potato chip, even though I sometimes do. I wish I could change that (and I've mostly done so consciously, but unconsciously, I think almost everyone has this in their nature. I blame television.).

As far as health being independent from weight goes and the societal perceptions of weight, I don't want to speak in generalizations, because that's almost certain to bother someone. But I can speak to my personal experiences with weight gain/loss.

Back in high school, I used to be a fast food junkie. I worked at Pizza Hut, ate out at McDonald's, Taco Bell or Wendy's at least four times a week, and I drank a significant amount of pop. I ate, basically, the worst diet one could imagine--and not one person in my life seemed to question this. Meanwhile, I was going from a fairly skinny kid in Grade 10 to a downright bulky kid in Grade 12 and the couple years beyond. Sure, my dad would offhandedly mention something about exercising more, but there was no serious discussion of my weight or lifestyle by anyone. I remember one time when I was doing one of those 6k runs in gym class. I partnered up with a smoker thinking I would be able to at least keep up with him. I could not, and had to stop running about halfway through.

After high school, when I was in my early twenties, I decided to transition into vegetarianism--and later veganism. Since this was combined with moving towards healthier living and eating, I lost about 50lbs and I now reside in the ideal BMI range for my age (I'm actually in the section that suggests longevity, according to some). I've always had a skinny build so I'm aware it was probably easier for me than most, but it certainly took a lot of work, health and education--and about four years' time. But the funny part is is that it's now people question the healthfulness of my lifestyle--since I don't eat meat, eggs, dairy or any other animal products. In general, I have the most energy I've ever had and I'm in the best shape I've ever been in.

While this is somewhat of a microcosm, I think it illustrates the following:
a) People don't question shitty food choices; only weird food choices
b) It's really easy to be unhealthy in our society, but we have to try to be healthy
c) Healthy living can (and I think the Biggest Loser proves it almost certainly will) have an impact on weight. It may not be the impact you want, but it certainly will have an impact.

While making someone feel bad is never the answer, are we not at least somewhat responsible for the health of the people in our lives?

The Deal with My Voice

I feel like I'm having this conversation like twice a day lately, so I'm thinking an out-in-the-open blog post might help to fill everybody in on my situation. At the very least, maybe one or two people might not have to ask why I'm so inaudible. 

For those of you who haven't seen me anytime over the last year or so, I've been having some issues with my voice. Mainly, it doesn't work like a voice. If it were a fish, you'd throw it back. That is to say, it doesn't project, it's often raspy and it's just not... loud enough.

For those of you who have seen me in the last year and knew something was up with my voice, you may not know this: I have a diagnosis. It's a condition caller Recurrent Respiratory Papillomatosis, or RRP. It's not horribly common, but it's not unheard of. Basically, it's a virus on my vocal chords that causes persistent growths that interfere with my vocal chord vibrations, thus inhibiting my ability to speak. There's actually a foundation for it here, and a neat video on a possible treatment here. I actually spoke on the phone with Dr. Zeitels, who is in the video. Dude's worked with, like, Steven Tyler and Cher and he took the time to call me back, which I thought was pretty nice.

While this issue sort of come to a head in May of last year, this isn't necessarily a "new" affliction. You may remember tendency to clear my throat and lose my voice, which has been the case for as long as I can remember. While I can't say with certainty I've had this for years, I don't think It's unreasonable to assume my previous throat issues are probably related.

Now the next question is generally, "what are they doing for you?" The answer is, there's not much they can do. The regular treatment is using a laser to cut the growths off (not as invasive as it sounds). That's why if you saw me in January or February, you may have noticed my voice was better. The issue with that is, the growths generally tend to come back. There are some drug treatments (eg. Avastin, the one they used in the video), but according to my doctor, treatments are generally quite spotty and there's not much good research. 

The tough part about RRP studies is that it's such a sporadic condition that the growths could just not come back one day. So in the case of the video, that could have happened anyway without the Avastin and it's impossible to know for sure how effective the treatment is until they do a double-blind study with some decent numbers (which in and of itself is not an easy feat, since it's fairly rare).  

On the plus side, I just went back under the knife (well, laser--there's actually no knife involved) today. So I will be better for at least a little while, and hopefully a bit of a longer while. And while it's impossible to say, I'm honestly just thankful I know what's going on. There's something about having a name for a condition makes it feel so much better, even if it doesn't tangibly change anything. 

On a more personal level, yeah, it sometimes sucks having to repeat your order three times in a restaurant, or wanting to have a conversation and stopping yourself because of the difficulties involved. But there's definitely something to the idea of gaining perspective through loss. Yeah, I can't always talk, but at least I can still go for runs, or type in my blog, take a photograph, strum a few chords, or any of the other millions of other things that bring me joy.

I heard someone say once that having a stake in something you have no control over is good for you. I think this is definitely one of those situations. I am prepared to deal with this thing,  or cope with it, if need be and I'd say I'm no less joyful a person because of it. 


While my life may not be better because of this thing, but it's not significantly worse. So don't feel bad. While your head tilts and concerned looks are certainly appreciated, they're not horribly necessary. I'm A-OK. And as the vocal polyps are growing, so too am I. 

Do People Change Pt.2

I was just reflecting on my previous blog post, and I feel I've come off a little pessimistic. And since I generally hate pessimism, I think I should not only clarify my last post, but add to it a bit and make it more of a complete thought. 


The last blog post revealed a bit of a personal flaw that probably impedes my personal progress more than anything: my inability to acknowledge the progress I have made. I'm too busy thinking about where I want to be than where I am compared to where I was, if you follow. I've known for a while about myself, but I can't help but fall into the same traps. 


I realized that part while having a conversation with a friend. I mentioned that I'm not even sure if I would like 18-year-old Jason if I met him face-to-face. I didn't think about it, but after extrapolating a bit further (and thanks to some thoughtful prodding from that friend), what I managed to realize is this: I wouldn't like that person because looking at him would remind me of who I could be if I continued down the path I was on. That is to say, unhealthy, lazy, mindless and even kind of stupid. 


I've had a sort of aversion lately to things, activities and people I associate with my old life. It's not because I don't like those people and things, but more that I don't like what they represented for me in the past. Furthermore, I worry that I would see myself reacting in the same way I did before. I'm afraid that doing the things that 18-year-old Jason did would make me revert partially into that Jason, thus making me realize I haven't changed as much as I would like to think I have. But I'm starting to realize that is probably not the case. 


What I can say is this: I have made tremendous progress in several ways and not recognizing that would be a disservice to my Self. I am a more positive, happy and complete person than I've ever been before, thanks in no small part to the changes I have initiated for myself. 


And while I may not be fundamentally different from the me I used to be, that's not necessarily what I wanted. I don't hate me of yesteryear; I just strongly dislike 18-year-old Jason's apathy and complacency. There were things that I really liked about that me (though I wouldn't have admitted it at the time) and I hope I've maintained them throughout this time and would be able to recognize that if I were to run into my 18-year-old self. 


In short, people do change, but not completely. However, most people don't need to change completely. That's pretty much as well as I can put it at this point because I should really get to bed. 

Do People Change?

I just finished watching The Richard Linklater film, Before Sunset, and in the movie, there was a question posed of whether people change in any meaningful way throughout the course of their lives.

There are a number of ways I consider myself different from the me of even a few  years ago. On a fairly superficial level, I've lost about fourty pounds, I exercise more than I ever have and my diet has gone through a pretty radical change. On a more personal level, I'd say I see a lot of things differently. My interests, the types of conversations I have and the ways in which I spend my day are all vastly different than they were a few years ago.

But can I really say I've changed on a fundamental level?

As much as I like to think I've made changes in a positive way, I can't shake the feeling that if somebody I hadn't seen in, say, five years met me on the street, they would see me as basically the same person, possibly a little more "grown up." I'm not really sure how to feel about that. Is it that they are only seeing me on a superficial level, or am I attaching too much importance to what are mostly superficial changes?

And that begs the question: What, exactly, is change? If I go from believing in God to being an Athiest, most people would consider that a major change. However, if you walk up to me on the street, regardless of my belief or disbelief in a higher power, I'll likely react to you in almost the exact same way. So have I really undergone a change at all?

In the movie, they discussed a fairly famous study of two groups who had either won the lottery or had become paralyzed. After about six months, the people were basically the same in terms of happiness levels and overall demeanor. So do we change? Does anybody change? Does anything have the capacity to change us? Or are we, really, without free will in the context of Self?

And the kicker is, why should I work to change myself if I'm going to be fundamentally the same person anyway?

I think I have to sleep on this. I hope to have some answers in the morning...