I'll eat cake, you can eat crow

I've been watching two crows from my office window. I haven't really see very many crows up close. They are large birds, with slick black feathers, and piercing eyes. I've watched them dive from tops of the trees, straight down to gather a smaller bird to eat. It's quite vicious really. I watched as the crows pinned their prey against a tree branch and pecked the smaller bird to death. The pen feathers raining from the tree branch, blowing like white cotton in the wind. Pieces of raw, dead, red meat falling from the sky, too, all the body parts the crows didn't want to eat.

On breaks, I've noticed that they imitate other birds calls. I'm not sure it this is to identify the other birds locations, or if the crows are just fucking mean. They also have a large vocabulary, talking to one another in great detail. The crackles hang out with them. As I read up on the crows, they keep to themselves, the will even fight with other crows who are not part of their flock. This, of course, leads me to believe that the grackles and the crows have some sort of mob relationship. And for as smart as the grackles are, I do think eventually this relationship will end badly for them. There can only be one top bird.

Not unlike people, are the crows. As I was at Fat Camp this week, you can begin to see the personalities of all the fat people. Most everyone is okay; however, it should be noted that by okay, I mean that some people's level of being nuts is more tolorable than others. But, there are some, yes, there are some that you can't be nice to, they will bring you down. I have lost weight, not a lot, but am doing ok. Some people have gained. They gained by eating the diet food AND regular food. If you gain for two weeks in a row, they switch you to the loser fat camp class. I'm not sure if they wisk you away right after weigh in, that I just don't know. But, I do know that for what I'm paying to learn how not to be fat, I do not want to wear the scarlet F.

No one has been pointed out, but we all know who they are. This one woman sat right in class and ate four of the delicious chocolate snack bars. They are 150 calories each, so right there in less than thirty minutes, she consumed 600 calories. She was shoving them in her mouth and crinkling the wrappers loudly. It was an obvious cry for help, for attention. It was really quite sad. My heart did go out to her. But, it's every fattie for themselves, I can't help her, she'd just bring me down. Plus, next week, at weigh in, she'll just disappear, not to disrupts us again, off to that "other class", and I will not have to think about her again.

Also, there are two ladies that sit right in front of the class. They are mean fatties. Whenever some one speaks about something, they always turn and stare, roll their eyes, make faces, and whispers giggle. They have not picked on me, yet. They prey on the more insecure. This week they picked on an old lady. Yes, I know it's their own insecurities...I get that. But, I just don't really care. You can be a jackass in the back of class. It's pretty much a nusance to have them right in front. They give off airs. Fatties with airs...there's a joke or two in that.

Didn't we all have these people in school. I didn't like them then and I don't like them now. If they continue, I will gently remind them that they are fat, too. That they are in the fat camp, just like the rest of us, and if they were any better, they wouldn't be at fat camp. I will also remind them that some people have actual medical problems that led them to being fat, so unless they have one of those things going on, then they're just fat, which is worse. Yes, I will pick back. I don't feel particulary insecure about them, their just disruptive. I was the champion of the picked on in school...it's part of being a Sag, we have a heighten sense of fairness about us. To be a sparrow, a grackle or a crow, yes, that is the question.

I went to a friend's birthday party last night. I got to see my dear friends, Chris, Steve and Billy. They are, by all rights, superstars. As I noted this, at one point in the conversation, some other guy, said that I was just obviously smitten. No...not smitten....in awe. He said asked if I was like that with other famous stars...he was thinking that I was a hangeroner. No, most stars in the public eye were not really stars, but rather, portals to conformity and comfort for the masses, not really stars. However, these guys were actual, live, in the flesh, stars. People who broke the mold, pushed the envelope...didn't he see that? I used the example of Imus vs. Vonnegut. Imus, who has always been a jackass, and did nothing of memory, sure did get a lot of attention. Kirk Vonnegut, who did everything of memory, when dead, just barely made the news. There is a difference between stars, and fucking STARS. He just proclaimed again that I was smitten. I quit talking to him, I wasn't in awe of him, and he was the hangeroner.

I mostly hung out with the men at the party. Women don't like me, I'm not very girly. I can't even try. Now, don't get me wrong, I did try, really I did. I compliment the host on the home she built, and the decorations, and the food spead. Then I went to pee, and in her bathroom for reading material was a bible and a southern comfort magazine. Oh, sweet jesus, fuck. I pulled up my pants and sighed. I hoped I didn't get kicked out of my friend's party. I knew she would hate me. And she did. She and one other girl whispered and pointed a bit, but not too much, because I had strong support from my long time friends. I tried to make a joke. I told one of the girls that if I got too drunk and puked would that please hold my hair back. I laughed. She looked confused. She said, You have short hair. Yes, that's right. Move on quickly, move on.

So, she tried to get me back the rest of the night. I noted that I was in Fat Camp, and would not be having any of the food. And actually, I didn't want it. Trust, that surpised me more that anyone. That's a first, and I thought that was cool. The rest of the night she spent trying to get me to eat. Almost chasing me at times, with olives on sticks, and piece of cheese, and cracker spread. Have you ever been chased with olives before? Holy shit, this woman was relentless. I was being chased...it was insane.

It was all we had to talk about for the evening. She would have a bite, try to feed me a bit, I would say no, but thank you, I would explain that I wasn't hungry. I would move, start a conversation with another person, turn slightly, and there she was with the pita bread and humus spread...we would start again. Over and over and over....for hours. She was on a mission. And later by the fire, she actually pouted about it. I'm not kidding. Lip out and everything.

Now, you would think that it's just me making things up. However, one of my friends noticed it, too, and commented on this squirrly behavior. The only answer that I had was that I made her look stupid, actually I didn't make her, I just made a couple of jokes, that were consquently above her thought level, and now she was out to get me with cheese cubes and the like. However, once challenged by olives and cheese, I couldn't back down. Can you imagine the shame that I would have carried this morning had a slipped off the fat wagon? Can you?!?

To be a sparrow, a grackle or a crow. That is the question.

I loved you Kirk Vonnegut. And I thank you and the other super stars that I know for just being alive to influence and inspire me. How shitty and bored I'd be if you never had existed at all.