Who the hell am I? (Without all the esoteric bullshit)

I have never paid much attention to what people say about themselves – people lie. Mostly they lie about themselves and even when they are lying about somebody else, it’s in the context of somebody they know (or that friend of a friends brother) – which makes the teller of these tales that much more interesting. So how can I possibly hope to convey who I am when the immediate assumption should be – “he’s a lying sack of cow paddies and unless he speaks poorly of himself - I’m not buying it”

So let’s start this way – I’m not as tall as I would like to be. I’m 6’ 1”, which many people might consider tall, but all my close friends are a good 3 to 4 inches taller then me. This gives me the appearance of being short and thus a strangely developed “short man’s complex”… although I’m above average height – technically. This might explain my love of Southeast Asia – there I’m gigantic. I can walk around and feel like I’m 6’ 1” and think to myself, “hey, I’m actually tall.”

My tailor calls me “Barrel Chested”. I recently asked him to clarify this classification. He said, “It means you have the chest of a fat person, without being fat.” Now realize, this person sells me tailored clothing. I’m a valued customer. I must assume he meant this as a compliment, although for the record – any mention of “fat” in the definition of a descriptor label… is not a good thing. I’ve also been labeled a Mesomorph by my doctor, which apparently means something to weightlifters - as whenever somebody asks me if I workout - I simply reply, “I’m a mesomorph” and they nod their heads and wander off.

I like to consider myself an intellect. But to be honest, I meet people all the time that are far more brilliant then I could ever hope to be. I live a paradox of loving information, but hate the reading. The older I get, the more I appreciate the limitations of my brain and its capacity. I ridicule the systems that “measure” human intelligence and emotional archetypes – yet was a former member of Mensa and according to Myers Briggs I’m an ENTP. For anyone that cares, I’m also a Cancer born on the cusp of Leo and if in Asia (where I appear taller) I’m a Wood Dragon. Some people will take this information and come to their own conclusions of “who I am” – let me know when you find out.

Emotionally – good grief. How can I complete a paragraph that starts with the word “Emotionally”? It’s as if I’m prepared to layout a ton of poignant goo for the world to analysis. Well I’m not. (As a mental note: The next time I create a Blog, I’ll give myself more then 5 minutes to spew up my thoughts.) Emotionally I do just fine. No bed wetting, no violent acts to small animals and no institutional time. I neither cry after sex nor during. God does not talk to me directly nor do I believe I am God (at least not “The God”, perhaps “a” god… Bill Murray quote… funny stuff).

So with all that said – if you are still so inclined. You may keep coming back to hear more ranting – Oh, by the way… 100% of all Aggregated Berries are edible.