Fuck You Fries

I couldn't stop staring at this. Anyone realize what's wrong here? Anyone?

If you said: The fries have barely been touched. 

YOU ARE CORRECT!

Those fries belonged to my brother, Steven.

Dad, Steven and I were at Blue Moon Burger for Fathers' Day.

I hadn't seen either one of them in way too long.

And here I sit staring at fried potatoes.

I had to consciously drag my mind away from how much I wanted to eat those fries, and my bewilderment as to why Steven hadn't devoured them yet.

The kid couldn't stop talking about the amazing work he'd just finished doing at Whipple Observatory in Arizona with a professor. His burger sat, with a perfect bite taken out of it, lonely, unnoticed as all of his attention went to trying to explain to me different physics terms, facts, theories and other super intelligent thingys.

Poor burger. If I wouldn't throw you up and hate myself for eating your delicious, fattening, greasy goodness I'd have never let you sit there for so long.

The third time I had to say "Wait. What?" to Steven I realized just how much attention I was giving his food, that I was so inside my own head and my obsession and my twisted thinking that I was ignoring my little brother talking about one of the coolest experiences he's ever had. That's fucking stupid that I do that. And yet I do. That burger and fries was like an open bar to an alcoholic. Or dangling drugs in front of an addict.

I had to laugh at myself though. Realizing that this really is a disease, a physical, mental and emotional disease. Which led me to realize how different I am. And not just because of my disease but just how different of a person I am from my brother.

And at first I was ashamed.

(please keep in mind my wheels are turning and working this through as I try to understand spectro-something theories and hold conversations with my family haha)

Steven talked so passionately, excitedly about his work at the observatory. He showed me pictures to point out what he was talking about. He cared whether or not I got what he was talking about. It made me admire him even more than I already do.

So then my mind wandered to: What have I done lately? Oh ya I wrote about tie-dye tutu tee shirts. And my new zit cream is so not working, but at least my eyelashes look pretty today. And I um get my hair done on Monday. COOL LIFE.

I made the comment that I was too stupid to get what was being talked about. And as soon as the words left my lips something inside me said "no you're not." And the fact that, on my own that came up as a red flag is huge improvement. That instead of continuing to put myself down I stood up for me (it's  fun fighting with yourself).

Then, by the grace of God, I began to embrace and make fun of the differences between myself and my brother.

The burgers and fries were their splurge. Mine was having ketchup and a couple fries. And Parmesan cheese on my chicken.

And that's ok. Because that's who I am. That's where I am at in life.

It's ok that when Steven said helium I immediately thought of sucking the air out of balloons and talking in funny voices rather than it as an element.

That when I heard the words "Super Nova" I didn't think of an exploding star but rather Zenon Girl of the 21st Century.

And it's even kind of cool that I started jotting down notes in my phone so I could remember what I wanted to blog about later.

Because while I am not a scientist, I am a writer.

There are a lot of things I'm not, but that makes me who I am. And I'm learning to stop fighting that and embracing it. So kids, and you should try this too, here are five things I really like about myself.

1. I like my witty sarcasm
2. I like the shape of my lips
3. I like that I will dance at any time and anywhere 
4. I like that I wear a ring on each finger
5. I like that I have a blog (and if I may add to that-I like that you're reading it)

Now those are not that exciting, cool and really quite random but they help make me who I am. And who I am is slowly becoming ok and I'm slowly becoming ok with who I am.

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