Your Questions About Eye Exercises For Lazy Eye

What should I title my short story?

It’s about a girl with a superiority complex (yes, it’s a thing) and I’m really not looking for suggestions. I know it’s crap and a lot of it doesn’t make any sense. I just need a title.

Title Goes Here

Amanda Reynolds was extraordinary. She knew that, and she considered it every day of her mortal life. Amanda was better than anyone else. Sure, she may have seemed normal to the naked eye. Every day, she woke up, brushed her teeth, ran on her treadmill, took a shower, and scarfed a banana-nut muffin before dashing off to her job as an investment banker. But her dirty little secret was that she was better than anyone else she knew, and, for that matter, anyone else in the world. Amanda didn’t mind keeping this a secret; it was not as if she couldn’t handle it. Amanda was perfect at keeping secrets. She found that she enjoyed the additional challenge of exercising her secret-keeping skills day after day. Her singing could send a baby to sleep for days; her sonatas could bring a man back to life. When Amanda drove, she drove with such precision that she had been questioned by the police as to why she wasn’t weaving. Her graceful movements far surpassed those of the most accomplished ballerina. She had all the potential to be the next great American chef, and she had once caused a hurricane merely by blowing out her birthday candles. She had memorized the encyclopedia in two days, but she could never express it to anyone. That was okay; Amanda knew that she was better than anyone, and that was all that mattered.
Amanda took the subway to work. In her company was an old man reading a book, a grungy-looking man in his thirties (clearly homeless), and a teenage boy who sat in the corner with a dopey grin on his face, listening to music with the most horrific orange headphones.
The old man sat peacefully on his seat, reading a novel far below his maturity level and expertise. Amanda had read the book years before. Then again, perhaps the man’s mind was going. He looked as if Noah gave him shotgun on the ark.
Amanda laughed at her hilarious inside joke.
Her glance shifted to the homeless man. His plaid shirt draped itself over his frail shoulders, exposing a horrendous thatch of chest hair. His shorts were full of holes that displayed so much more than Amanda was inclined to see. The man took a pocket knife out of the lining of his shirt and brought it up to his blackened, hollow, decaying teeth. He began to pick away at the mounds of tartar that had built up on and between his teeth, as if that would somehow decrease their ghastly visage. Amanda didn’t understand why the man didn’t just brush his teeth, dress himself properly, and go get a job. Well, it wasn’t so much that she didn’t understand. Amanda understood everything. She knew that the man was lazy and unbelievably unintelligent—probably psychologically challenged, as well. If she were the man, though, she would have pulled herself together, walked straight into an interview for a high-paying corporate job, and dazzled her future employers with an eloquent speech. Then again, everyone in the world couldn’t think like Amanda. A person of her caliber could only come about every once in a while.
Finally, Amanda’s gaze rested distastefully upon the intoxicated boy with the mandarin headphones. He sat in the corner, smiling and bobbing his head to the music only he could hear.
If he knew how ridiculous he looked, that boy would be bobbing his head to a different tune.
Then again, maybe he knew just how ridiculous he looked, but thought that it added some character to his persona. People could certainly be strange. Predictable, but strange.
As the subway pulled into its station, Amanda was approached by the disorderly homeless man. He drunkenly muttered a few words to her, his breath smelling of bad scotch, and asked her for her name. As the doors opened onto the station, Amanda hurriedly insisted that it was her stop and ran off the subway. The thought that a man of such filthy and despicable tendencies would approach a woman of her standing and social status was appalling.
Amanda arrived at work ten minutes later, covered in the distinct scent of Manhattan streets, and set to work. Her poise and charm persuaded each of her clients to switch from their old investment centers to InvestiCentral. She set to work on some clients’ paperwork, moved around some finances to appeal to the projected stock market trends, and finished her goal for today just in time for lunch. Some work friends invited her out to the local branch of a fast food chain, so she reluctantly accepted and went out with the three colleagues.
Sitting with the drab girls at their corner booth, Amanda couldn’t help but notice their many flaws. They considered themselves to be beautiful creatures, God’s gift to the people of Earth, really, but they were really rather boring. The plump girl ate her salad with far too much vigor; it looked as if she was attempting to inhale the thing, rather than eat it delicately, as a person should eat such a dish.
Amanda chuckled internally at her sparkling wit.
The arms of the girl across from Amanda hung limply at her sides as she placed her mouth upon the straw of her Diet Coke. Her paper-thin cheeks puckered as she noisily attempted to drain the remains of the soda from her icy glass.
Next to Amanda, the eccentric girl was blabbering on about some crisis with the cute guy at her yoga center. Her mouth moved a mile a minute, spraying spittle across anyone in the danger zone. The girl’s outlandish nature bothered Amanda more, perhaps, than any of the other girls’ glaring flaws. Her metallic stiletto pumps were paired with a skin-tight dress that stopped mid-thigh, and each time she dropped something, she stooped down to get it in what she thought was the most suggestive and attractive manner possible. Her gum smacked in her overly large mouth as she shoveled in her spaghetti while still attempting to carry on her long tangent about the yoga boy. She suddenly turned to Amanda, waiting for a response on some sort of supposedly jaw-dropping bomb she had just dropped.
“Well, if anything, that’s his fault,” Amanda said supportively.
Fueled by this dash of support, the flashy girl continued talking about the dull, insignificant details of her mundane life. Amanda f
found it surprisingly easy to carry on a conversation without listening at all. She only found it necessary to truly listen to a conversation if she was unable to predict what the person was going to say next, an instance which happened rarely. She pretended to listen intently to the girl’s dull story, interjecting in all the right places, while she mentally moved around the Henderson family’s finances and arranged a To-Do list for the afternoon.
After lunch, Amanda returned to the office and set to work on her To-Do list. She rearranged the Hendersons’ finances according to plan, went home, ate some home-cooked stir fry, and took a nice bubble bath. She alphabetized her cereal, so as to keep her mind active, and fell asleep promptly at 10:00, so as to get her recommended daily amount of sleep.

How can people possibly be born gay? And not have chosen to be gay?

I am a straight man, who is trying to gain a higher understanding of gay people, because there are so many things that just do not make sense to me. Recently I just found out that most gay people seem to believe that gays are born that way, rather than choose to be that way. But I’m wondering how that can be possible? Some questions in particular

1. How can someone possibly be born gay? Since gayness is a behavior. Its not like being born with blue eyes, or dark skin, or something genetic like that. Behaviors are learned. People pick up good habbits, bad habbits, learn to have different sorts of attitudes. A robber isn’t born a robber, he learns to be. A writer isn’t born a writer, he learns it. So since being gay is a behavior, rather than something physical, how can you possibly be born with it?

2. There are so many indicators that being gay is unnatural, but few that say its natural. Gays seem to try and say that its natural, because some animals do it. But how does that make any sense at all? Since animals aren’t necessarily gay, they are just too dumb to know any better. Look at a dog for example, dogs hump your leg, they hump stuffed animals, they hump the floor, they hump other dogs heads, they just hump everything, so if a dog humps another male, its not because the dog is gay, he’s just a straight dog that was too stupid to know any better and accidentally humped another male dog.

3. Don’t a lot of people become gay after being molested? I met a gay guy about 10 years ago, and people told me that’s why he became gay, was he was molested. So although I’m sure they didn’t choose to be molested, its still a choice to become gay right, because they weren’t born that way and weren’t gay before they were molested.

4. Is it possible that some gay people just think are gay because they simply are not able to get any action from the other sex? Like a guy who simply wanted to get layed by women, but never could get one in bed, and was a virgin for so long that he started sleeping with guys?

5. Similar to above, Perhaps lots of gays are actually straight, they just don’t know it because they never had the chance to be straight?

6. Is it possible that some gay people aren’t actually gay, they are just too lazy to be straight? Kind of like fat people for example. Now sure, there is a very small percentage of fat people who do have some sort of condition, and sure genetics do affect metabolism making it easier for some and harder for others…but still 95% of fat people are that way because they are too lazy to exercise and eat proper. Of course they all want to have some sort of excuse why thats not the case, but the bottom line is the vast majority of fat people are simply too lazy to not be fat. Is it possible that maybe many gay people aren’t actually born gay, but are simply too lazy to try and not be gay? And saying they were born gay is just an excuse rather than the truth?

7. Isn’t it possible that many people are not born gay, but rather are simply confused? Perhaps a woman has been walked over by too many men, and because all the ones she met treated her bad, she just thinks that she doesn’t like men. And when she becomes friends with a girl, and really they are just best friends, perhaps she confuses it for love since the girl was nicer to her than the guys? But in reality she is straight, and would like guys even better than her lesbian lover, she just never gave a chance to meet that right guy that is nice to her? Perhaps a lot of gays confuse friendship for love, because they never experienced straight love?
Thanks for the responses so far. A lot of information to digest. Its just soooo hard for a straight person to comprehend.

There have been many good responses, keep them coming. So far the best example of lack of choice, that I understand most has been Will’s example of “I have chosen to like this food”

But one other question isn’t it possible many gays just think they are based on wrong information, or learned it subconsiously. I mean people can be mislead into making wrong decisions and think they are right.

For example a mortgage lender can give someone a bad loan, but trick them into believing they got the best loan in town.

Perhaps many gays are actually straight, but have somehow been given bad evidence to make them think they are gay when they are not?

Also, tastes do change, people can hate coffee when they are young but love it when they are old. Is it possible many gays grow out of it, and become straight?

How to lose weight when I can’t exercise Sorry it’s a block of words, I had to get it all in there.?

It’s not that I’m lazy, but recently, about a month ago, I stopped being able to go to sleep at night. Like, one day, I just stopped being able to. I sleep in the day, but the problem is, I work in the day from 7am to 4pm. I walk 8 miles to work (yes, it’s long but when you have no car and no ride, you do what you gotta do) and I fall asleep during my classes due to lack of energy. So exercising would wipe me out completely (before I could even get anywhere) and I don’t want to miss a day of work (can’t afford to). There’s the weekends, but I may as well be doing nothing if I can only get two days in (I still do them, though, when I’m not struggling to keep my eyes open). Yeah, I know, go see a doctor. Easy for someone who has insurance to say. I have none and am waiting on my healthcare coverage from work for another two months. I can’t afford to go to the hospital, but I’m a blimp and I hate it. I have been eating less, but too much less and I know it’s bad but I’m scared and desperate. I also suffer from Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome and messed up both my knees when I used to run earlier this year. I have no money for a gym membership and no access to any gym equipment of any kind, and I don’t want to be restricted to muscle building exercises (I have more than enough of those, somewhere, under all the fat). So what should I do? I know my BMR is 1300. I make sure to eat no more than 800 cal a day to keep a 500 calorie deficit. I know it’s bad all over, but I was only going to do it for five weeks until I go to visit family who have gym access to share with me, then back to school with the free gym (can’t wait). Still bad, I know. Anyway, they say 1200 is best, but if I ate that I would not be losing weight. At all. I do not want to maintain, I want to lose. No, I don’t have a eating disorder. It’s hard to eat so little, until, of course, I enter starvation mode (been there, done that). Am I doomed to be fat for as long as I have these sleep issues? Eating also does not give me any energy to go on whatsoever, it’s like I’m eating the food simply for the taste. Caffeine puts me to sleep, so that doesn’t work. OTCs don’t work (tried a bunch, including Unisom). Exercising in the past only gives me agonizing abdominal cramps (which for some reason I can’t avoid no matter what I do but always suffer through anyway) so I don’t even like exercising if all I can do is writhe around in my bed for hours in agony thereafter (literally, not exaggerating, can’t stand, can’t even drink water, which I drink a lot of but seems to contribute to making me sick sometimes).

All in all, I’m asking if there is a way to not starve myself (not that I’m starving, but I’m never satisfied and I may get there yet) when I can’t exercise? Walking is not enough because I take the bus back and to be honest nothing in this house is healthy for me, so I don’t eat it, even as much as I want to. I could eat them, but they are tiny, unfulfilling meals (like, for example, a PB&J or ham/turkey/bologna and cheese sandwich, with or without mayo, bananas which are healthy but have too many calories for my liking, cooked food, which is near impossible to quantify without the tools and I don’t like to eat things I can’t count, etc) with loads of calories and I’d have to eat at least two of them just to feel satisfied, not even full. Even if I buy the healthier versions, I still have the same problem, it’s still like eating next to nothing in one serving and it’s darn hard to find filling low calories food. If it has low calories, it’s ridiculous in sodium and I’m more afraid of sodium than I am of calories. I’m not losing sleep due my eating habits, they have been the same forever up until a month ago, so don’t go there. When I eat 1200 cal now, down from 1500 when I was exercising (almost 2 months ago), I gained 5lbs in one week (I wish to g0d I was exaggerating). This is counter-intuitive as all heck. I have no clue why it’s happening (and unless I’m the virgin Mary, I’m not preggers). My caloric deficit stayed between 500 and 900 at the time I was exercising. I was doing everything right. That didn’t work, so I’m on to the wrong things. I don’t know what to do. Please don’t waste my time and tell me that my caloric intake is too low. I have a brain and I already know this. Also, don’t tell me I have to see a doctor, I know I should, but if you pay for it, maybe I can, otherwise it’s not possible at this time. By the time it is possible, I’ll be fat enough to hang myself at the rate this thing is going. When I do it right, I’m wrong. When I do it wrong, I’m wrong. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but that’s why I’m here. I would like to know what is right and what works? About ten minutes ago I realized I was crazy tired but can’t go