I'll Be Home For Christmas

In an effort to fight off the inevitable Holiday weight gain, I've increased my daily water intake to around 32 bazillion gallons a day. Refilling old water bottles, barrels, hell, even the occasional trough, I keep water handy at all times.

Get behind thee diet Soda-pop! Be gone evil sweet tooth munchies! Sure, I could be nibbling on that half a pumpkin pie leftover from Thanksgiving, but a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. Might need drastic measures, have my Miranda Hobbs moment soon. Said pumpkin pie needs to be thrown in the damn garbage and have dish detergent poured all over it! No temptations please.

The Holiday Season has barely begun. Everybody an' their grandmother has food, food, FOOD! One lady from my church was worried I wouldn't have enough for Turkey Day, so she sent me over a huge mess of collards, mac 'n cheese, ham, turkey, cornbread stuffing, smashed turnips, mashed potatoes, gibblet gravy, corn pudding, and candied yams! You know I ate er'ry bit of it too. Felt like I needed to run 400 miles on the treadmill afterwards. In lieu of wiring my jaw shut à la Tami Roman style, I'm just avoiding the scale this month! (Remember Real World: Los Angeles waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in '93?)

See, here's the deal. I've never claimed to be anything but a thicker boy. These old bones are constructed like a linebacker. I'm solid. My weight ebbs and flows, but I attempt to keep it well below a certain mark. For me, I try to keep around 230 lbs. Yes, I told you my weight, being real and forthcoming. No misconceptions. Is it the perfect gay man's body? Perhaps, perhaps not. Ask my boyfriend. No smart arse comments "What boyfriend?!?" None of the previous ones had a problem. At 5'10" and currently 230-ISH, I know I'll never be 150 or have that 6- or 8-pack abs. Ian's gotta be exceptionally careful this December. Can't get too close to crossing my weight demarcation line. The exercise campaign is on. Workout, workout, workout.

To be honest though, I'm a lazy cur at times. My membership card spends more time in my wallet than out. Why? It's not that I don't wanna go, but with physical therapy every day, going to the gym is the last thing on my mind. I gotta treadmill. Got weights. Got a bike. It's easier to lift, run, cycle, whatnot, at home. The only thing I can't do at home is swim. Fortunately, my local gym has a nice pool available. Aquatics aerobics has been wonderful with my rehabilitation. Other than swimming though, why exercise in public when I can at home? No overzealous gym-bodies making me feel less than stellar; inadequate. No critics. Took me a long time to build my self-esteem and feel comfortable in this body. Don't need to ruin all that in a gym session.

But naw, I gotta get prepared for the Christmas family gathering. The Onslaught. Like everybody's family, mine is no exception to Holiday drama. Hell to the No! It's not. And when yours truly shows up Christmas morn, you know I better be lookin' as fab-u-lous as I can. If not, then I gotta deal with all those damn "Oh looks like you gained a few pounds" comments. Every family has that one special person, no matter what you do, they'll find your worst flaw, your mortal chink in your armor, and hone in with the negative commentary.

Ain't family at the Holidays fun? Where to start in my family? There's old cousin Gareth, who'll be pontificating about those glory days, tell us how much better life was back in the 40s, 50s, and 60s. Or my Uncle's wife (she IS NOT my auntie!!!) Earlene, who'll take a sip of wine, then pretend to be all snookered up all evening. Please bitch. There's the Diva herself, Cosetta, my second cousin, who'll show up late, bitch and complain, then leave early. Oh and of course, last and certainly most least, will be my cousin, Mr-I-play-for-so-and-so-professional-sports-team, Daniel. Mister Pefect Body. Mister Masculine Sauve. He'll turn up his nose seeing me, be the condescending arse he's always been, throwing off 'tude. "See you wouldn't be in your current situation Ian if you did yadda yadda yadda..."

Really now? Baby boy, I'm takin' care of business, handling my own. Why don't you mind yours? My prolonged health condition has really effed up my social life, my self-worth, this year. Sure. Believe me, I know. Yet, I'm weathering the storm; doing my best until I get over the hump. If I'm not the bastion of your masculine perfection, so be it. It won't dimminish from my person if I've gained a pound or two. I'm tryin' to be content with myself. If you gotta prob with my bod, then step. Besides, you're not hittin'this. You don't roll this way, right? LOL!

Hmph. And I used to wonder why so many folks hate Christmastime.

In all seriousness, I look forward to seeing Daniel. Arrogant as he may be, Daniel has more than enough hot and sexy male friends. They often stop in during the week between Christmas and New Year's. Who knows??? More men cross over team lines than admit, as we all know. Maybe yours truly will score this holiday season! The best present you can't put under anybody's old Christmas Tree...