Day Three:

Monday, June 21, 2010
Yes, it is Monday. Sunday, yesterday, was a big mess. That's why I'm starting over.

DAY THREE. (BUT REALLY DAY ONE):

Sometimes… you have to see how high the wagon is from the ground before it really counts that you fall off it.
So I got drunk? So I ate trout covered in butter? So a sensitive theatre director offered me grilled peaches a la mode? I’ve been dieting for WEEKS. (not true).
Let’s just start over. Shall we? Besides, Gweneth is all about positive living. She went to Spain and tried fried stuff. Someone needs to give this woman an award. And what do I get for living? Waking up with a popsicle stuck to my forehead The French Lieutenant’s Woman playing on repeate… must have bought that On Demand… strange drunken 4am choice… but I’ll think about that later.
I know by now, none of you believe in me. I’ve probably lost my (thousands) of followers. But I am not fooling when I say today was GLORIOUS. Slept till noon. Did not hate myself (weird). Went to gym. Found my bike! Got caught in gorgeous, multicolored mid western rainstorm. Chased the wind on my shirt-tails or something …and did it all without sugar, alcohol, or shame. Instead of ½ a bottle of wine and ½ a truck of ice cream… I read allowed…I read a play (that’s theatre, for you stupid folk) to an ailing friend. We nibbled on mushrooms and pictured our lives how they will be… when we are beautiful. We can go on those websites for pretty people… walk down the streets turning heads… and dance without falling down. Ahh… se la vie. Sarah Ruhl’s lilac language overlaps our vivid daydreaming… it reminds me of those summers I spent teaching the Costa Rican locals who live in trees and under volcanoes about Art. Upon arriving in their village, I recall a tall man (probably their leader) saying,” Que es teatro?” I nodded, “Soy el teatro.” And art in a third world country began.

I’m sure you’re asking what my past travels have to do with my diet today. Well, life’s a travel experience. And your suitcase… your suitcase can sometimes be your big, fat ass. But it doesn’t have to be. Your suitcase can be your expanding brain, or adventuring feet, or rampant STD you picked up there. So in conclusion, I do not feel badly about starting over, and failing at my first attempt on this journey. It’s the first day of summer! It’s more fitting than starting on a Friday… my body knew.
So I drift off to sleep in peace. Going over my upcoming patience and diligence… the sounds of the Costa Rican shore filling my memory. The earthy smells of the fried yucca plant and rich coco beans. The memories of the giant insects… wait those are real. Shit there are bugs all over my room. WHO LEFT THIS DISGUSTING FUCKING POPSICLE STICK IN MY BED!!?!? Oh wait….
Onward.