Food Is Where I Belong

The same bullies followed me to high school, naturally, and had the same lunch period as me, naturally. So after about a month, I discovered that bullies didn't really read much, and there for I was safe in the library. The year passed, and when I discovered that gym class was co-ed in 10th, 11th, and 12th grade as well, I did what any clumsy, over weight, uncoordinated, non-athletic, self-conscious teen does: I panicked. After the black faded back to the edges of my vision, and my breathing slowed from hyperventilation to normal again, I came up with a plan. If I went to the tech school, then I wouldn't have to take gym. Unfortunately, that meant that I got no other electives either, but that was a trade I was willing to make. What class did I take at the tech school you ask, why cooking of course! What other class would a fatty take? Health care or nursing? Would you listen to a fat nurse who told you that you needed to loose weight? Child Care? Fatties can't keep up with active little kids. Auto shop of any kind? Uh, no. Not because I was fat, just because I don't like to be dirty. I went through all the options, and decided that food and I were destined to be together. Besides, I figured I could eat everything I made, and I might learn how to make something better than those ice cream candy bars. Psh, like that was possible...

Commercial Foods (no fancy names like "Culinary Arts" at Erie Co. VoTech) lead to a job at a local restaurant where my family ate at least once a week. Which then lead to a college level Culinary Arts program at a state school. I was still fat, but here I was among friends. I mean really, would you trust a skinny chef? Didn't think so. How can you be sure their cooking is any good? It must not be if they won't even eat it.

I did lose some weight in college, but only maybe 20 pounds or so. My first (and only) big weight loss came about three months after I moved away from home to start my life as a successful chef. I was very lonely, and depressed, but for once, I didn't reach for food. I did something better. I got drunk. A lot. Every night. I spent all my money on diet pills, flavored water, and booze. I was still under age, so one of the guys I worked with would buy it for me. During the day I would drink zero-calorie flavored water, take six or sometimes eight diet pills, and while I was prepping salads for dinner service, I would allow myself four cucumber slices. I lost somewhere between 60 and 80 pounds in less than four months. This had some negative repercussions.