I joined a new gym on the same day I launched this blog so as to misdirect my habit of abandoning healthy things. I figured I would use all my quitter points on falling off the fitness bandwagon and thus become a successful blogger without even realizing I was harming my mediocre status quo.
So far I’ve made it to the gym on both Monday AND Tuesday. To me, this means I am a certified badass and I’m enjoying the fact that simple acts like petting my dog cause my abused muscles to scream in pain. I have to embrace it because there’s no telling how long I’ll actually keep it up.
I’m not proud of my propensity for quitting and I definitely don’t want that to be my legacy but to a certain point this is how I perceive myself. According to smart people who write books and give TED talks, it is possible–and helpful– to change your self-perception.
So: I’m shopping for new legacies, one of which presented itself to me in the aftermath of my workout.
After 30 minutes of panting on the Stairmaster, I retreated to the locker-room so as to gasp in semi-privacy. Little did I know this same gym was also frequented by a girl who has invested her entire adolescence working the drive-thru at a local fried chicken joint. She was so excited to see me because, as she said, I “go there a lot.”
HA HA HA polite laughter HA HA HA
I really wanted to go back to picturing myself as the next Gisele Bundchen:
It’s important to set realistic goals.
But then her coworker walked up “Oh yeah!” she said, “you used to drive a Range Rover!” They went on to detail every.single.car. I’ve owned since I was 20.
But that wasn’t enough–they even traced my employment history based off the name tags I have donned whilst partaking in trans fat and crinkle fries.
My Gisele fantasies were quickly replaced by the reality that I am the female version of Hurley from LOST who loves chicken so much he bought the fast food joint.
I felt like Zoolander looking in a puddle and pondering my identity, except… I was the puddle.
“Who am I?”
To at least two people on this planet I am known as the eater of much chicken. Does that matter? Surely not… But it does make you wonder how the people you encounter perceive you, from the most intimate relationships to the random passerby.
I have at multiple points in my life been referred to as a HACKER, a NINJA, a HOOKER, and a SPY and as all four by the *silver fox* who is currently plotting to make my life a living hell. (More on all that later…)
I’d like to think that my perspective on myself is the only one that matters most and that I have the will to change it.
What do you think– Is it important to know what others think of you, and do you make an effort to correct them when you think they’ve got it all wrong? Have you ever been “known” for something as epically non-consequential as a bad fried chicken habit?
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Hurley was cool though so not a bad comparison if you think about it.
oh and as far as what people think, yes it can bother you what people think but fuck em. Who really cares what they think?
This is true– he had some pretty great lines and was totally not crazy.
Hey, as long as you’re doing something to better yourself, who cares what people think about you? Plus, there are much worse things than being equated with delicious, delicious fried chicken.
I agree 😉 It’s taken me a while to get here though. And oh yes the only thing I’m really going to worry about is how to choose between fried chicken drive thru’s because they’re opening a second location in my town. WOAH.
A. Fried chicken is excellent. No correction necessary in my opinion. B. Quitting is underrated. C. Despite my love of quitting I love your method of the dual startup, allowing one thing to lapse and the other thrive. With your permission I will follow your lead.
Oh, absolutely. I think it should be a common practice for ambitious people.
Ha! There are still several bars where my legacy is remembered.
(For things probably best not remembered…)
LOL! I love chicken too and I think we’re only in trouble if we start clucking (or forget to go to the gym). In answer to your questions, I believe my family, friends and coworkers know me for exactly who I am. I never have to correct them when they give me one of those “You’re such a dork!” looks or roll their eyes at my weird sense of humor. I would only correct someone if they thought I was extremely intelligent or a mean girl.
It’s always nice to have people around who embrace your inner dorkness…
just today a new woman started at my place of work – when she was introduced to me she said “oh I know you – you used to come in a lot where I worked in my last job – the health food shop” I smiled and said “yes thats right – I recognise you now” it was only later that I realised this encounter meant that she knew all about my IBS and my attempts to find some natural product to alleviate my unpleasant symptoms of gas and bloating – LOVELY!!!
Haha! That is amazing. Some aspects of our lives are just NOT meant to overlap.
EXACTLY lol
I love that a girl at your gym knows you as the lady that loves chicken! there are worse things to be known for I think. I’d like to say I don’t care what others think, but the reality is, I do!
Haha I suppose, now that I’ve gotten over the initial sting, it’s not such a bad reputation… And yes, I think I may be about the same as far as caring what people think. Actually: I think there’s some strange equation that calculates how much I care depending on who the person is, ha.
Fortunately, almost no one I run into at the liquor store is in good enough shape to see me at the gym, so until that happens my reputation rests with the guy who works the counter at the donut shop. Again, I’m pretty safe with that one.
True– I need better vices!
What do I think?! Well – 1. I think you’re fantastic, I’m so glad you commented on my blog because it’s meant that I’ve found yours – I’ve read every post from the past and intend to read every one in the future – you really have a way with words and you certainly have some stories! 2. You look lovely in your pic, so I don’t think the chicken has done much harm. And 3. I adore fried chicken too – it’s a good thing 🙂 I haaate wondering what other people think about me and what perception I’m giving out, especially if I’ve decided they’re not my biggest fan! But what really matters is how you feel about yourself and changing only what you yourself don’t like – forget the rest!
Awww, thank you! That’s awesome and encouraging to hear. And yeah– I don’t think I can quit chicken anytime soon. Especially that secret sauce that comes with their fries…. *heaven*
Definitely “forget the rest” –Right there with you on that one!
Darling, it has taken me over a decade to get over a traumatic high school drama experience involving Little Shop of Horrors, and yet, if I were to run into someone who knew me then, I’m sure that is exactly what they would remember me for. Le sigh.
Hahahahahaha I’m sorry to laugh, I shouldn’t. My curiosity is strong, but I will abstain and luckily I have many other things to associate with you, other than this. Like Andy Warhol.
I swear to god I’m not a transvestite! (Ok, there was that ONE time)
Hahaha oh my gosh, the curiosity grows…
I’m catching up on old posts. This one made me giddy. How absolutely awesome to be recognized by the drive thru girls. Love it!
Oh my gosh, so mortifying! I’d almost forgotten about this… I am only EVER recognized for the most non-attractive things!
I had a friend. We’ll call her “Little Miss Passive Aggressive”. She liked to introduce me at parties as “This is K. She’s been married. Twice!” and then proceed to cackle like a deranged lunatic. Anytime I mentioned “my ex” in a conversation, no matter where I was or who I was talking to, she would make a point of yelling (usually across a room full of people) “Which one?” and again, cackling like she was the next Jim Freakin’ Carrey. After deciding that being mortified in public was so much more fun than I could ever hope for, I kicked LMPA and her cackle to the curb.
Noooo way. That kind of behavior is so appalling it’s embarrassing. People who hear something like that are usually too distracted by the awkwardness of the speaker to pay attention to what is said. I’ve had a friend like that– we would go shopping and I’d grab a “medium” size and she’d be like “Oh, I thought you wore large. You’re so lucky– it’s hard to find things in Extra Small.” I mean… reeeaaallly? That’s just bad behavior.