Posted by: JC | September 9, 2009

Day 1: The Adventure Begins

I knew the first day would be difficult.  Like any addict, it’s hard to go cold turkey.  So, I made sure to setup my surroundings for success, aka, a day alone.  I had spent the Labor day weekend in a town about 300 miles from home and I had the laborious task this morning of driving down stretches of highway in solitude to come home to my mother’s empty house, and quickly fell into my usual routine, several hours of Facebook and internet pornography.  I believe Facebook may have been invented for the singular purpose of filling in the downtime between erections and ejaculation. 

About noon I decided to get out of the house, so I went up to the local movie theater and plopped down my last five bucks to see Inglourious Basterds.  Two and a half hours later I was off to the gym.  I love the gym.  I know that’s weird, but honestly, I love looking at women and their is no better place than the gym.  I have never actually met anyone at the local Y, but it never hurts to scan the area for possible dating possibilities. 

A little back story, I used to be fat.  I used to be enormous.  I used to be bigger than Dom DeLuise.  Due to a marriage, that honestly we will go into much further detail later on, I spent a good portion of my mid-20’s eating more food than should  ever be possible.  Needless to say, as much as I imply that I go to leer at young women in spandex on elliptical machines, it probably has to do more with an extremely sad self-image.

I lied today.  This is going to be way harder than I thought.  I got a call from my ex-girlfriend in Georgia (I live in Kansas), and she asked what I was doing?  A little back story, she thinks I have a job.  So I gut-reacted, and said I was working.  Not only was I working, but I went into every detail of what I was doing.  Setting up displays for a marketing company in Home Depots…huh?  Where do I come up with this shit?  Anyway, she was off the phone, and I realized I had broken the first rule, with the first person I had contact with.  I attempted, half-heartedly, to call her back.  No response.  Didn’t leave a voicemail, thought that would be a little cowardly. Instead, I spent the rest of the day fantasizing what it would be like to be back in Georgia with her.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch.  Chatted with an old friend even, and when they asked what I did for a living, I said, “nothing, I live with my mom.”  Weirdly, they had to go get the kids ready for bed after that.

Posted by: JC | September 8, 2009

The Ultimate Self-Help Guide

I have now reached rock bottom.  How did I get here?  No idea.  Well, that’s not completely true.  I have a good idea.  I’m a moron.  A cheating, deceiving, mean-spirited, conniving, bitter, hateful, sardonic, and here’s the key, lying moron.  I’ve been a liar my entire life.  No clue why I have always been this way.  My every relationship destroyed because of the bullshit that somehow comes flowing out of my mouth like a river of fabricated exaggerations.  I once told a girl I dated my real name was Jefferson, not to hide some hideous crime from my past, but because I thought it was a cooler tag than the one my parents had given me long ago.  My real name is Jeffrey.

I lie on everything.  I graduated college with a BS in Communications.  I dropped out my first semester. I can bench 350.  I can bench 275. I can speak French.  I know La banan means banana, but I don’t know how to spell it. I work as a patient care advocate at a dialysis clinic. I’m unemployed and live with my mom.

Lying has pretty much destroyed my life.  No one trusts me, no one ever believes me, and I have more enemies than I can ever count.  So, what do I do now?  If lying has gotten me to the bottom, then the opposite would have to get me to the top right?  The plan:  Tell the truth.  For an entire year.  No matter how painful.  No matter who gets hurt.  No matter how uncomfortable the situation.  Three rules apply:

1.  I must always tell the truth.  From the biggest infidelities to the smallest white lies.

2.  If I slip, which lets face, 37 years of lying, I’m going to slip.  I must immediately tell the person that I was lying, tell the truth, and I must follow that with another truth.  Example.

“Would you like fries with that?”

“No…sorry I was lying, yes, I would like fries with that and once back in school I told my coach that the assistant coach had left me stranded at 10 o’clock at night at school after a track meet even though he hadn’t.  I was attempting to mask that I was embarrassed to ask to use the phone to have my mom pick me up.”

3.  If it is someone from my past that I have hurt, just because the question was not asked, I cannot avoid the answer.

This should be fun.