I’m proud of myself this week. And since blogs are just a way for narcissism to fly under-the-radar, I’m going to talk about all of the reasons I’m proud of myself here.
There are two.
To start, last weekend I took a fiction-writing class. It was expensive and nerve-wracking. Especially considering that I hadn’t written academically since 2009, and I was going to be expected to do so, in a high-school classroom, surrounded by people who were poised to talk about “what they were working on.” And what they were working on wasn’t a social strategy for a brand, just to be clear. These people were writing short stories and novels. NOVELS. Like those 200+ page things that are a chock-fill of beautiful writing, subtle teachings on morality, the universe, and mankind. Basically, I was surrounded by geniuses. I was clearly the fool in the room, but I DUG it. It was so freaking cool and fun and fresh and motivating and god I can’t believe I’m actually writing and it’s not horrible and it isn’t even about my boring life and gahhhh this is so amazing. We developed characters based on astrological signs. We wrote a climax about a fat blind girl, and a skinny boy-band singer, who were stranded on a boat, and only one could live (!). We wrote about meaningful places in our childhood. We wrote about how a 13-year-old would break up with a 15-year-old. It was simply magical. I wrote a bit yesterday (it was the epitome of ehh), but I really want to commit to doing it more. If I don’t start now, then when will I start? Also I’m reading “I’m Worried About My Neck” by Nora Ephron and thinking, “I could maybe, potentially, one-day, write like this,” even though I always thought I’d write fiction (and never thought I’d do anything remotely close to memoir writing. And even saying it now is strange, so I probably won’t ever write a memoir.). Anyway, it was a wonderful wonderful moment (or 420 moments because it was a 7-hour class) for my creative self. I’m so glad I did it. All of you should take one too - maybe we can even take one together!
Secondly, I am in the midst of a juice cleanse. Well, I’m more than two-thirds done now, but the next twelve hours will be no joke. I can assure you of that. I don’t really know what possessed me to do this. You know of my love for food. I really really love food. Food is my life. But I never knew how TRULY true this was until I started this cleanse. It’s so psychological - my love for food that is. I haven’t felt hungry at all in the last two days. I’ve been completely full and completely healthy. I’m getting everything I need to function fully and happily. But I just. Want. To. Eat. Goddamnit. I’ve realized that my entire day revolves around looking forward to meals, and then consuming said meals. The minute 11am rolls around, I can’t wait to eat lunch. At 2pm, I just want a snack. At 3 pm, it’s almost dinner time, right?! My obsession with food has nothing to do with how nourished I feel, and often doesn’t even have to do with the fact that I’m hungry. I associate food with happiness. Food IS my happiness. I’m sure many of you feel similarly, but have you ever thought about how insane that is? We really should eat to live, not live to eat, as trite as that sounds. So I’m proud. I haven’t eaten a single bite of solid food since 9pm on Monday night. ME! I usually can’t even go two hours without eating. Such a lesson in self-control. Maybe some of these learnings will stick.
Please don’t think I’m discounting how hard this is. It’s brutal. BF had to talk me off a ledge repeatedly last night. I was grumpy and pissed and just wanted to eat something (Goddamnit). It’s not fun and it’s not “cool.” But if you make the cleanse your bitch, you’ll get through it.
Btw, in case you’re wondering. I chose to do Liquiteria’s Level One Nourish cleanse, and I loved it. The juices are actually tasty!
So those are the things I am proud of. The year is off to a magnificent start.
And my sister is coming tonight. To celebrate her 21st birthday. It’s going to be wild. XO