We are all good at some things and not so good at other things. Ill just call these things talents even though Im probably talking a little more broadly than the conventional definition of talent.
With luck, some of our talents can turn into careers or hobbies or other productive things.
Some talents are simply pretty useless. For example, in the engineering department of my university the classes competed in a drinking game called boat racing. You got your five team members kneeling along one side of a long table, each with two eight-ounce glasses of beer in front of them. When told to start the first member on the team downed his* first glass as quickly as possible, then slammed the empty glass down on the table, at which the second member did the same, all down the length of the table, to the fifth team memberthe anchor--who had to drink his two glasses one after the other, at which time things would progress back up the table until the first person finished their second glass. The point was to be as quick as possible. My class was pretty horrible at this, we could seldom must five guys who could get a glass down without having to pause, and eventually we gave up even trying to put a team together. But I was a great anchor. I could pour down the two glasses without pause and in very good time. I was an all-start quality anchor. But even in university it never did anything for me, and after that it has been a talent that Ive never used. I kind of wish Id been at card tricks instead, at least I could amuse kids with them then.
Then there are talents that are outright inconvenient or dangerous. One example is that Im a naturally talented liar. I can tell a bare faced lie without difficulty and with high confidence of getting away with it. I decided in my early teens that this was not a talent I wanted to exploit, but that temptation is always there, where I could lie to get myself out of some situation, and Im pretty sure I could get away with it. If Im not going to do it, it would be easier not to know that Im good at it. (One of the many things I adore about my wife is that she can read me very well. She cant actually tell when Im lying, but she can read my guilt about lying and know something is bugging me. So that at least is a good deterrent if my willpower is flagging).
Then there is the real point of this post: weight gain. To be clear, weight gain excites me. A lot of my fantasies have to do with weight gain. But in my life as it is, Ive decided I want to be the least fat that I can realistically be and still be comfortable in my skin and lifestyle. Oh, it might be nice to occasionally indulge in a small gaining fantasy and get stuffed, imagining doing it regularly and growing bigger and bigger, but without actually getting bigger. It is that second part that is the catch. I kick ass at getting fat. I so kick ass at getting fat that it takes quite a bit of discipline simply to hold my weight steady.
Here is an example of my weight gaining prowess: I moved to a new job, and moved cities in the process, four weeks before my family moved. I drove home every weekend (six hours each way), and cleaned and prepared our house (we were moving back home, having rented out our house while we were gone). I had a ton going on, and decided to not worry much about diet discipline. I didnt actively stuff myself, but ate when I was hungry more often than usual, and at more meals than usual I ate until I wasnt hungry anymore, instead of stopping when I thought Id eaten a reasonable amount. Id played with the idea of a little deliberate over eating, like making a big nightly milkshake, but I think I ended up doing anything like that all of two nights out of the four weeks. I also ended to munch a fair bit on those six hour each way drives each weekend, to stave off going comatose from boredom, but it was as often carrot sticks as it was cookies or mini-donuts. I knew Id probably gain a few pounds, and I began to feel with my clothes that Id gained.
Then our stuff got moved up, and I was able to pull out our bathroom scale and measure my gain. Seven pounds. Seven freaking pounds, in just four weeks, without making an effort to gain. If Id been having a bacchanalian revel, downing ice cream and cookies and cake every night, sure, I could look at those seven pounds and think Hey, it was worth it. But most of what indulging I did I barely noticed at the time. In hindsight I can say OK, that frozen pizza, the last quarter I ate more because I wanted to feel the relaxation of being really full than for any real need for it. Or I should have recognized sooner that the cereal bowl I bought was bigger than my usual bowl, and so more quickly stopped filling it all the way. But those were not big conscious indulgences, just parts of me being good at getting fat.
It would be cool if I had a life where this talent was going to be appreciated some day. But I dont, and the extra weight is certainly not convenient. My (42 waist) pants are too snug, when moving boxes around during unpacking they were held far from center of gravity due to my projecting belly, tying my boot laces is getting to be hard work, and so on. Esthetically I can appreciate the extra bulge, softness, and jiggle, but I know nobody else close to me is appreciating it, so that limits the enjoyment.
In short, this is another talent that Id gladly trade. I wont even hold out for a knack at card tricks, Id settle for being good at shuffling cards, Ive always wanted to be able to do that bridging thing at the end of the shuffle .
Failing that, I guess it is back to trying to convince myself that it is good to feel hungry.
Regards;
-Ed
With luck, some of our talents can turn into careers or hobbies or other productive things.
Some talents are simply pretty useless. For example, in the engineering department of my university the classes competed in a drinking game called boat racing. You got your five team members kneeling along one side of a long table, each with two eight-ounce glasses of beer in front of them. When told to start the first member on the team downed his* first glass as quickly as possible, then slammed the empty glass down on the table, at which the second member did the same, all down the length of the table, to the fifth team memberthe anchor--who had to drink his two glasses one after the other, at which time things would progress back up the table until the first person finished their second glass. The point was to be as quick as possible. My class was pretty horrible at this, we could seldom must five guys who could get a glass down without having to pause, and eventually we gave up even trying to put a team together. But I was a great anchor. I could pour down the two glasses without pause and in very good time. I was an all-start quality anchor. But even in university it never did anything for me, and after that it has been a talent that Ive never used. I kind of wish Id been at card tricks instead, at least I could amuse kids with them then.
Then there are talents that are outright inconvenient or dangerous. One example is that Im a naturally talented liar. I can tell a bare faced lie without difficulty and with high confidence of getting away with it. I decided in my early teens that this was not a talent I wanted to exploit, but that temptation is always there, where I could lie to get myself out of some situation, and Im pretty sure I could get away with it. If Im not going to do it, it would be easier not to know that Im good at it. (One of the many things I adore about my wife is that she can read me very well. She cant actually tell when Im lying, but she can read my guilt about lying and know something is bugging me. So that at least is a good deterrent if my willpower is flagging).
Then there is the real point of this post: weight gain. To be clear, weight gain excites me. A lot of my fantasies have to do with weight gain. But in my life as it is, Ive decided I want to be the least fat that I can realistically be and still be comfortable in my skin and lifestyle. Oh, it might be nice to occasionally indulge in a small gaining fantasy and get stuffed, imagining doing it regularly and growing bigger and bigger, but without actually getting bigger. It is that second part that is the catch. I kick ass at getting fat. I so kick ass at getting fat that it takes quite a bit of discipline simply to hold my weight steady.
Here is an example of my weight gaining prowess: I moved to a new job, and moved cities in the process, four weeks before my family moved. I drove home every weekend (six hours each way), and cleaned and prepared our house (we were moving back home, having rented out our house while we were gone). I had a ton going on, and decided to not worry much about diet discipline. I didnt actively stuff myself, but ate when I was hungry more often than usual, and at more meals than usual I ate until I wasnt hungry anymore, instead of stopping when I thought Id eaten a reasonable amount. Id played with the idea of a little deliberate over eating, like making a big nightly milkshake, but I think I ended up doing anything like that all of two nights out of the four weeks. I also ended to munch a fair bit on those six hour each way drives each weekend, to stave off going comatose from boredom, but it was as often carrot sticks as it was cookies or mini-donuts. I knew Id probably gain a few pounds, and I began to feel with my clothes that Id gained.
Then our stuff got moved up, and I was able to pull out our bathroom scale and measure my gain. Seven pounds. Seven freaking pounds, in just four weeks, without making an effort to gain. If Id been having a bacchanalian revel, downing ice cream and cookies and cake every night, sure, I could look at those seven pounds and think Hey, it was worth it. But most of what indulging I did I barely noticed at the time. In hindsight I can say OK, that frozen pizza, the last quarter I ate more because I wanted to feel the relaxation of being really full than for any real need for it. Or I should have recognized sooner that the cereal bowl I bought was bigger than my usual bowl, and so more quickly stopped filling it all the way. But those were not big conscious indulgences, just parts of me being good at getting fat.
It would be cool if I had a life where this talent was going to be appreciated some day. But I dont, and the extra weight is certainly not convenient. My (42 waist) pants are too snug, when moving boxes around during unpacking they were held far from center of gravity due to my projecting belly, tying my boot laces is getting to be hard work, and so on. Esthetically I can appreciate the extra bulge, softness, and jiggle, but I know nobody else close to me is appreciating it, so that limits the enjoyment.
In short, this is another talent that Id gladly trade. I wont even hold out for a knack at card tricks, Id settle for being good at shuffling cards, Ive always wanted to be able to do that bridging thing at the end of the shuffle .
Failing that, I guess it is back to trying to convince myself that it is good to feel hungry.
Regards;
-Ed
