Ok peeps, I'm not gonna lie. It's only been 3 days and I am already regretting (just a little) joining in on this "45 Day Challenge" we've got going on at work. Not so much because of the working out, I don't mind the working out, its more the pain that comes with the working out that is starting to annoy me. I am having trouble with routine neck scratching, simple dressing activities (i.e. pulling t-shirt over head) and now it has gotten to the point that I left my house wearing SWEATPANTS! I do not lie. If you know me, you  know that I NEVER wear anything other than denim unless it is otherwise required for the attendance of an event at which denim might not be sartorially acceptable. Every second that I was out of the house, I wanted to run into a corner and hide. The "guidelines" that go along with our challenge are as follows:

1- NO diet pills or weight loss enhancing products of any kind. All weight loss must be done through diet and exercise. The healthy way. 

2- All participants must put $50 into the "pot" as an incentive for the winner. 

3- The winner will be determined by the percentage of body weight lost, NOT by the number of pounds lost. 

4- Weight is taken at the beginning (duh) and once again on August 1st with the final weigh-in on August 6th. August 1st weigh-in is for motivational purposes only and will not reflect upon final results. If August 1st weigh-in results are not up to 

your expectations, please consult your nearest gym/workout dvd and GIT YO ASS INTO SHAPE BEFORE AUGUST 6TH!!!!

That all seems pretty simple. Now let me just say, I am NOT willing to sacrifice flavor for weight loss. My food will NOT be lettuce and tuna. My food will NOT be bland and flavorless. I am gonna lose weight the healthy way because no matter which way you cut it, I am a foodie. I cannot give up my food. You can take my sodas, you can take my chips, you can take my junk food, but you will never take away my tasty food. 

Give Me Delectable Flavors or Give Me Death, 

F

p.s. I am doing the P90X fitness program. Also, going to the gym when I can and tanning. I was going to take before pictures, but I'm shy. :)

            While my experience may not be as dramatic or as ongoing as those of other people, it still bothers me just as much. Being discriminated against because of what you are is a horrible feeling. After 9/11, not only was I discriminated against in my school environment but I was singled out in airports, city buildings, and other everyday situations. The embarrassment I felt was painful and it was all because of my name.

            The devastating day that was 9/11 was not only hard for the people who lost loved ones in any one of the terrorist acts but it was hard for the whole nation. That didn’t mean that they all had to pick on me and other people of middle-eastern descent!! I am Persian (and Mexican, although you’d never know it from my name). My dad is from Iran. He gave me the name “Farzad”. It means “splendid birth”, but no one cares about that when your name sounds like a potential terrorist name.  Since about 3 weeks after 9/11, I have wanted to change my name. I feel slightly ashamed that I still want to change it but honestly, it would be a lot easier to order a drink at Starbucks without having to repeat “F AS IN FRANK, A AS IN APPLE, R AS IN RED, Z AS IN ZEBRA, A AS IN APPLE, D AS IN DOG” three times. Anytime a person hears my name, they ask about its roots and they ask where I am from, when I tell them, they respond with a look of disgust and shock.

            I was only 16. When it all happened, I was as traumatized as the rest of the country. The only thing that set me apart from almost everyone at my school was that one particular teacher made it VERY clear how he felt about people of middle-eastern descent…terrorist or not. Needless to say, he singled me out, stared at me through his entire “patriotic” speech and my final grade in the class was not what it should have been. I never built up the courage to say something about the way I was treated and I never dug deep enough into myself to find out why. My only explanation for his behavior was that he was looking for scapegoat and I was the nearest, easiest target. 

            Since then, other than ridiculous airport security checkpoints at which I have been ruthlessly searched and questioned, and one incident at work, I haven’t had any problems in the “we think you are a terrorist” department. Thank God! It is just so sad that people feel the need to stereotype and categorize in such a demeaning and disrespectful way. I am still looking forward to the day when racism and discrimination as a whole are done away with. Until then, I am Farzad…“F AS IN FRANK, A AS IN APPLE, R AS IN RED, Z AS IN ZEBRA, A AS IN APPLE, D AS IN DOG”. 

Have you ever had someone confuse you for someone else? Have you ever had a person think that you were something that you weren’t? I remember a time when people confused me for being gay on a very regular basis. I’ll admit that I am not as masculine as some of the other straight guys out there, but I am not feminine either. I have found a happy medium and I am happy with who I am. I remember during high school, my friends and I would go to Mexico to party and dance. I saw a girl from my school that I was interested in and started to dance with her. We danced for about 20 minutes when she decided to tell me that she was happy I was gay because she couldn’t “dance like this with a straight guy”.  I was in shock! I didn’t know that to say. I couldn’t just walk away even though I felt like I should. I had to clear the air around this little rumor. I immediately pulled her off the dance floor and explained to her that I was straight. I proceeded to ask her why she would say that to me and she said, “ It’s just that you dress really well and you’re really nice.” I quickly replied with “Thanks!...but since when does that make you gay?!” We finally fixed the situation and the night ended well. After that night, I got to thinking – why should I have to continually explain myself to people!? Now I know why…..because people don’t get it! Metrosexual does not equal gay!!!!

Maybe I’ll just tell you about a few of the instances in which I have been mistaken for a gay man. Believe it or not, it goes all the way back to 7^th grade. That would add up to just about 11 years. Admittedly, no one back then actually thought I was honestly gay, they just called me that because they couldn’t come up with anything better and I was the easiest target. But throughout the years, the torment has just grown and, in my opinion, spiraled out of control.

You’ve already heard about the high-school-dance-floor situation so I’ll move on to my first year in college, 2004. That was when I actually started to get hit on by people of the same sex. It was very strange. I was away from home, going to school and working full time in California, so obviously I was always tired and low on cash. Whenever I needed coffee I would go to my favorite place, The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, where they had THE best white chocolate mocha. The problem was that each one of those was about five bucks. I realized one day that the male cashier was hitting on me; I decided to go ahead and take advantage of the situation (call me what you want but I got free drinks!). Never did it go any further than witty banter at the coffee counter and then I started to realize how insanely wrong that was for me to do. I never went into that coffee shop again.

After coming back to El Paso, I got a job at a medical office where one of the department heads happened to be gay. Three weeks later, he started to hit on me through text message. Needless to say, I mentioned the situation to my supervisor and the “assailant” was soon fired. All of these situations not only make me very uncomfortable but they force me turn off my social radar. It has been five years since I’ve had a girlfriend. I have tuned out the thought of ANYONE hitting on me so I don’t realize if a girl is hitting on me. These events have taken a serious mental toll on me and it is about time that I get back in the game. My only problem now is that I have become “socially retarded”.

I don’t understand the reason people may think a person who dresses well, keeps clean and practices proper etiquette is gay. It’s a sad thing that people have forgotten that gentlemen still exist. Is the term used to describe a man who enjoys taking good care of himself a little too gay in and of itself? Perhaps the term “commonsensical” should be used in cases like this. A man who keeps himself up to a certain standard of living need not be classified as gay or metrosexual -- this man needs to be considered a sensible human being who is aware and courteous to those around him. No one wants to look at or stand next to a person who smells and looks like trailer-trash. Guys, give them something good to look at! Looking good is not gay, metro or rocket science. It’s simply a matter of good judgment. The next time a girl (or guy) confuses you for being gay, tell her (or him) that you’re just ”commonsensical.”

The adventures and misadventures that kids get themselves into have always intrigued me. I remember a time, not that long ago, that I got into a little trouble myself. In 1994, my uncle got married. My parents, grandparents, brothers and I all traveled (by car) to Canada for the wedding. I come from a Persian family and as we all know, Persians like rugs. So, the following is a little story I like to call “Farzad Through the Looking Glass”. 

I am very vain……or at least that is what my mom tells me.  My mother is always calling me Adonis because she thinks I am too concerned with my looks. She always sings the Carly Simon song "You're So Vain" to me. I disagree with her. I believe I pose a very valid point when I say that “Looks = Success” If you don’t look the part, you’ll never get the part. As a result of my mission for success, I do look in the mirror very often to make sure that I look good. Sometimes though, I just don’t look close enough. 

I’d have to say that my self-preservation efforts started at a young age. I always wanted to make sure that my clothes matched, that my hair look better than everyone else’s and that my sneakers were cooler than all the other guys. I was always voted “Best Dressed” and “Most Stylish”. My clothes were even featured on the fashion page of my high school senior yearbook. This involved many, many minutes in front of the mirror every day. It all started around 2nd or 3rd grade when my “puppy love” phase developed. I attended a private school and they always let the 4th and 5th graders attend the junior high dances. Looking forward to this very much, in 3rd grade I was already thinking of who I would invite to the dance. I decided then and there to start caring for myself and the way I looked. If I ever wanted a girlfriend I’d have to look good for her. The Fonz always looked good and look at how many ladies he got. My theory worked and I have had a date for every dance since the 4th grade.  

In 1994, my Uncle Reza got married in Canada. For this special occasion, my family and I took a three day road trip from El Paso to Toronto to attend the wedding. When we finally arrived, my brothers and I were completely fed up with each other. Needless to say, for the rest of the trip we went our separate ways. I avoided them as much as I could. One day while we were there, my father, being the devout Persian culture enthusiast that he is, decided that we were going to go Persian rug shopping. How fun! Taking a 9 year old to see smelly ugly rugs! It wasn’t really as bad as I thought it would be. A snowball fight would have been much more appealing but July in Canada does not allow for much snow. The entire family went to see these famous Persian rugs. All out parents told us was to behave and stay in one place because it was a big store and they didn’t want us to get lost. There were about 8 kids with us and all we did was jump form pile of Persian rugs to pile of Persian rugs. We were having so much fun, figuring out who could jump the farthest, who could jump the fastest and who could win the races from one end of a row to the other end. I decided to challenge one of my brothers in a race down a row of piles. I was already anticipating my victory. Jump. Jump. Jump. Three down, four to go. I was winning by one pile. Jump. Jump. Jump. I turned to see how far along my brother has come. We were neck and neck! JUU...CRAASH!!! On my last jump, I ran into a mirror. I should have seen myself, considering that I had so much experience looking at myself in the mirror. Luckily, the mirror didn’t break but I felt like my nose did. I even broke my glasses. Blood was running down my face, dripping onto my shirt. This was SO embarrassing! I can’t believe I ran into a mirror! How much more ironic can life be? The person who is always checking himself out in the mirror crashes into one because he didn’t see his own reflection. 

I remember thinking that there must have been more piles of Persian rugs ahead, because that was what I saw. I simply didn’t notice that I was already on a pile of those rugs. The wedding was the next day and even though the wedding wasn’t about me, I didn’t want to go because of the way my face looked. I looked as if I ran into a wall at 80 miles per hour. My parents forced me to go, mostly because I wasn’t old enough to stay in a hotel room by myself. I decided to not tell anyone at the wedding that the wall I ran into was a mirrored wall. I was attached to my brother the whole time because I didn’t want to be the loser in the corner with a bruised and broken face. Of course people asked repeatedly, “What happened to your face?” I told them I ran into a wall. I felt this excuse was embarrassing enough and didn’t invite many more questions. On the other hand, my brother felt I should tell the WHOLE truth. I felt otherwise. When the next investigator came along to find out what happened to my face, my brother gave them the exclusive Barbara Walters 20/20 interview. He held nothing back and explained, in detail, exactly how I ran into a mirror. Everyone’s reaction to his response was drastically different than when they heard my response. Countless questions followed. “Didn’t you see yourself?”, “Don’t you wear glasses? Do they work?”, “Are you retarded?” (yes, they actually asked this.)

 This was even more embarrassing than running into the actual mirror. Now I was running into the reflection of my stupidity. This experience made me learn to take a good, hard look in front of me before walking into any scene that looks strangely familiar. I also learned that mirrors can be a bad thing…..but only if you jump into them face first.

I'm going to be posting my essays from various classes on my blog, just for fun. Let me know what you think!!!

FF

My [love] life has officially come to a standstill. I have no mojo! Naomi and my mother are right. I need to stop treating and looking at girls as friends and start looking at them as potential girlfriends. Its just been such a long time and I'm kinda scared. Its really intimidating. I mean, I hardly ever go out, I hardly ever drink, so I don't want to meet someone who is highly inebriated at a club when I now that that is not the kind of girl that I am looking for. I'd much rather meet someone at Barnes & Noble. I want someone who is smart and who I can have real conversations with. (Just not political conversations cuz I just don't get it right now). I want someone who isn't quite sure of her beauty so I can make her feel beautiful. Not someone who is so sure of herself that she would probably be happy just sitting in front of the mirror all day staring at herself. I want someone who is not afraid to be herslef around anyone, just like me. I'll make a fool of myself in front of complete strangers just to make them happy. I need to find myself a girlfriend. One who isn't fond of cheating on her current boyfriend, one who isn't currently in a relationship. I'd prefer someone who is my age or close to my age. This sounds like a REALLY bad personal ad. Lol! I think I'll stop now. It was dollar drink night at Aceituna's tonight and I spent at least 10-12 dollars on myself. So you all have a good day.

Loserly,
FF

P.S.: for real, if you know of anyone between the ages of 20 and 23 who would be interested in dating someone smart, funny, kind and sincere, give me a holler!!!! [Ugh, I am such a loser]
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The joke is supposed to be......

Q-What do you call a person who takes pictures of dogs??
A-Pho-dog-rapher!! (Photographer!!)

Lol! I put 'od god' on the last one.

Maybe I'm a lil drizzunk.
FF
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Don't be a fr-unt today! (That was for karla and leslie)

So today is my moms birthday. She turns 45. That's all.

I love how some of my stories have no point. Now, here is something with a point. I am glad that Karla and I are becoming good friends again. We used to be like best friends and then *poof* almost nothing. She was a friend I never wanted to lose and for a while, I did. Yes Karla, I know you are probably reading this but sometimes things sound less cheesy when written in blog format.

I am totally feeling more groggy than bloggy right now so I am going to leave you all with a little joke, courtesy of my Mother:

Q-What do you call a person who takes pictures od god??
A-a pho-dog-rapher!!! (Photographer!!!)

Its Friday the 13th......BOO!!
FF
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Yeah, so I finally got over my secret chico's craving. I hadn't been in about a year and a half. I must say, it is so plain. They are just plain old taquitos with some funky sauce and cheap cheese. I think, for my party on august 8th and 9th, I am going to make a gourmet version of chico's. But we'll see.

So tonight I sang for 2 people. I haven't sung for an audience of any size since last july. Even though I thought I was a bit rusty, it felt SO good. I don't know why, I thinks its just fun to do and it usually makes people feel good. And we all know that I like to make people feel good. I sang the song that I sang at the american idol audition [how sweet it is by michael buble] and I love that song. I love to sing. I can't stop myself sometimes. My legs feel numb a little right now.

Its weird that alcohol makes my various areas of my body go numb. Wtf?!? Does that happen to everyone, or just me?? Anywho, let's remember that my party is less than 3 months away. Keep in mind, if you don't dress appropriately, you'll be OUT of my circle. :-) I will be taking lots of pictures and I don't wanna see any fugly outfits!!! Jk! I don't judge (out loud)!

Have a nice day,
FF
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i got a tablet for my mac!!! i can write on stuff just like perez now!!! lol!!

this  is  SO  exciting!!!

When I show up somewhere wearing something, I meant it to be like that!!!!! I do not need nobody tellin me that I neeeeeds to be wearing a tie. I don't not need nobody tellin me that I look better with all my buttons buttoned. Bitch gots to back up OUT my kool-aid cuz bitch don't eeeeeeven know da flava!!!!! That's right. I just threw a B.F. [Bitch Fit] So today was the wedding of Christina and Jake. They are now the Lara's. Its weird. Christy was always my back-up. Not for marriage or anything like that, but like for going with me to certain places. Today, for example, I was thinking, "who can I dance with?", and then I thought "Christina", but now she's married so I can't just go dance with her like she was still single. Naomi backed out on me when my song came on so I had to dance with one of Christinas co-workers. She was really nice and her 5-year old danced with us too. Steve and I got pretty drunk of off Malibu's and sprite's. Lol! They go good together. The cake was good. The food was good and Mama Lupe [naomi and christina's mom] gave me her champagne. And from a different occasion [involving people not in attendance at the wedding] Let me just say, I ain't gon' git drunk so you could mo-lest me!!!!! You should git yo own ass drunk and stop bein' so desperate! [B.F. #2]

Never wanting to hear another Ranchero song......EVER!!!!!!!!,
FF
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Do we practice how to eat? Someone remind me to post my essays up on this blog. I always get good feedback about the content but bad feedback about the writing style. Whatev!! ANYWAY!!! [Its quite possible that I have ADD, considering how often and how quickly I change subjects.......ooh! a bird!!!] I went to the wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner for my very good friend Christina Gomez today. It was nice and I got "upgraded" from usher to escorting her mom down the aisle. Haha! Awesome, I'm an "escort". So from now on, if you want me to go with you somewhere, it'll cost you!!!

So in just a few short weeks, some friends of mine are planning to go to Vegas. I am getting more and more excited about this trip and I'm still not totally sure that I can afford it considering that I racked up almost 900 in shopping when I went to denver. Ugh, I have MAY-JAH shopping issues. I am pretty positive that I can get my mom to at least pay half. Then I'll be able to go. For sure.

Tonight, I was at Erins bar with Karla and Leslie and I have SUCH a good time with them! And I'm totally not just saying that because I know they read my blog now but seriously, even though half the time, I have NO IDEA what they are talking about, those girls make sure that you have fun! No matter what! I'm glad we are hanging out all summer and all are attending the 3 day birthday extrrrrravaganza!!!!

Hurry up and get here Aug. 7th, 8th & 9th,
FF
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I just got home from Aceituna's, (and I'd like to give a shout out to my girls Naomi, Karla and Leslie!! Lol!!), and call me a nerd but I felt the urrrge to read. Yes its past midnight and yes I'm a little drunk BUT I finally finished 'The Soul of a Chef'! I have to say, the very last line of the book is my favorite. It reads, "...they never forgot what the work was about: to cook for people and to make them happy." That's all I want to do! Cook for people and make them happy!!! I love cooking and baking and I love happy people! Mix it all together and you've got yourself one hell of a cocktail.......and I like cocktails too!!!! I'm excited now cuz I can start reading this guy's (Michael Ruhlman) other books. There are two other ones that I'm really wanting to read, which are 'The Making of a Chef' and 'The Reach of a Chef'. Its a series of observational books in the cooking industry. He also helped write the cookbook that Naomi is supposed to get me for my birthday, The French Laundry Cookbook. I can't wait to get it and try out the recipes. Ugh, I'm so obsessed. All I think about is food and its 1:15 am and all I can do right now is think of what kind of food I want to make for my birthday party on August 7th, 8th & 9th. Don't worry, you'll get an invite.

Patiently awaiting August,
FF
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