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Upper Body Strength and a Trip to Asia

I know everyone has been sweating what to get me for my birthday on Thursday so I thought rather than the usual games we play I would come right out and tell you what I need/want right now. So much simpler.

Ever since the 6th grade when Coach Down-on-His-Luck /Up -in-Your-Grill called me a girl disparagingly and with disdain I have known about my shameful lack of upper body strength. On that day that no doubt lives in infamy every single person in Mr. G’s class as well as the President of the United States (George H.W. Bush) and probably my parents and grandparents learned that I could not do a single chin up. What this meant for my future I could not be certain. My spirits were temporarily raised by my unprecedented ability to sit with my legs in a V shape and reach for the wall as well as my agility and endurance proven, respectively, by my stunningly mediocre performance at running with foam blocks and walking a 15 minute mile. But this chin up SNAFU was bound to keep me out of the best of schools and maybe even presaged an early death: how could I be sure?

For months my lousy arms were a source of embarrassment and this glaring weakness tainted an otherwise unremarkable academic year. That summer I grew three inches in one night and with glee the next morning I attempted to hoist myself up from a dangling position on the playground jungle gym, certain that unfettered by baby fat I would be chinning up with reckless abandon. I shouldn’t have to tell you the results were nil. I was not taller but not stronger, leaner yet not lighter, I still couldn’t pull my own weight and this confirmation of my worst fears shook me to my core. I would fail the physical fitness test again in 7th grade, a laughing stock in front of my peers, an orphan to my family all blessed with unusually ripped forearms, a loser among winners at Jared Eliot Middle School, would-be Presidential Fitness Statewide Champs were it not for my atrophied appendages. I was a pariah.

Much in the way my SAT math scores are mind-boggling disparate from my verbal aptitude, my lower body is a Greek pantheon of power. My legs are limber, my feet are fleet and my calves could split a spaceship in two. I have incredible ankles and marvelous knees; my bottom half is strong as an ox and twice as hairy. In this department I was blessed, though at times it is more of a curse. I am disconnected, Janus-faced, torn, broken, uneven, at odds with my very nature. These words no longer hurt. I hardly suffer at all from public mocking, though the self-torment rarely ceases. Damn you, perfect Zeus-like thighs and Herculean hips! A plague on both your tendons. How tragic that my Achilles heel is so potent, so unbreakable I did not understand the idiom until college when in front of an entire lecture hall I pressed the teachers assistant on the soles of my feet.

It is for this reason that I appeal to all that is holy and all who are reading this to bestow upon me the greatest gift I could receive: muscle, dexterity and might in my God-given slovenly arms; strength, the gift of life. And what’s more, redemption. After years of abasement and abuse, ineffectual beating of breast and waggling my arms jello-like toward the sky in anger and confusion, I need this. More than you know. I beg you. Either that or a trip to Asia.

See, my best friend is going to be traveling around for months and I don’t know when I am going to see her since she lives in New Zealand now and is moving to San Francisco after, plus I frakkin love dumplings and Taoism, so either way. Whatever you want to do. It would be awesome. Thanks very much.

There Are 5 Responses So Far. »

  1. I think you should get a butt implant.

  2. yeah, I second the butt implant idea.

  3. p.s. hey malc, how do I get a little pic of me to pop up when I post a comment?

  4. Psssst…Nick: Go to gravatar.com

  5. my sponsorship is for the trip to asia, pull ups are overrated! 2009 will be our year to reunite, I am sure of it. happy early birthday BF!!!

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