Decisions, Decisions. Sometimes I Really Hate Making Decisions

It's probably the first time that I've skipped a day in writing something on the blog, and the photo was there with no explanation or caption. Now it has a caption which has no relation at all to the title. Why? It got one comment in that time, a big surprise to me. Yes, I have that gaunt look of starvation about me. One of my earliest memories is of my mother begging my pediatrician for the secret to "getting my little Alan to gain some weight".

Since then I've always been looked upon as a challenge by women, as one after another they've made the futile atempt to put some weight on my bones. At 6'3" I usually range from about 158 to 164 pounds, and it's not from lack of caloric intake. The usual comment is "Oh my God! If I ate what you eat I'd be 300 pounds in no time!" Vivette did get me up past 180 for a brief time and none of my clothes fit properly. I don't know if it was from my contentment or her good Jamaican cooking, but within a month or two of our breaking up I was back down to around 160 again. Yeah, a bagle and cream cheese sounds great, as long as the bagel is toasted and dripping with butter before the cream cheese goes on.

Now as I'm about to marry Dawn she's assumed the challenge of fattening me up with her Greek cooking. She discussed it with my son and my immediate ex-wife Claudia, and even mentioned the possibility of getting some Jamaican recipes from Vivette. Time will tell.