My Summer Vacation
Off to the beach.
So, I was supposed to get cleansed. I was set to eat a rabbit’s diet of garden veggies, fruit, and little else, except Stoli O (I figured the “O” qualified as “fruit”). The idea was to give my body and mind a rest while I focused on my bucket list of projects. The load in my head was interfering with my ability to be a kind and caring person.
No distractions. No interruptions. Just me, and the beach. Until…
The first call was a little desperate.
How could I say “no” to homelessness?
They came. Her husband - a rousing amalgam of Larry David and Woody Allen with a dash of Scrooge. Nice guy.
She is the kind of movie star glamorous you want to hate but can’t because she is just so damn charming, adorable, funny and perfect.
She is also skinny, so I was happy to follow her ascetic eating regiment for a few days. Hot water and lemon juice breakfast, vegan lunch, and liquid (read Stoli O) dinner. It is amazing how vodka can stave off even the most insidious hunger.
Next guest – by my invitation – a gourmet chef. What was I thinking?! This woman insisted I ate too little. We schlepped and shopped, pretty much clearing the shelves of the local markets and roadside stands to stock my bare cupboard, fridge, pantry, counter tops and the kitchen sink, lest I go hungry. She even insisted I give my dogs more food! I’ll admit her creations were impressive and delicious, and our spree saved me from the chore of marketing for the rest of the summer. Hmmm, I wonder how I've managed to survive...
Next up was my nearest and dearest invited Skinny Minnie (you know who you are) with an ass to kill for, which I almost did after being deprived of berries for almost a week. She brought The Metabolic Diet: the revolutionary diet that explodes the myths about carbohydrates and fats. She also toted a supply of carefully measured out ingredients and a list of forbidden foods. I kid you not. What, no berries? Need I say more?
Last but not least was another dear pal who imposed nothing but protein powder and the best Tartufo I’ve ever eaten! About the size of a bacci ball (we like Italian food), it was filled with caramel and dark chocolate, coated with hazelnut and the kind of delicious that inspires the worst food guilt I’ve ever experienced. Our husbands watched in horror as we shamelessly gluttonized. We can’t wait to do it again…someday.
Meanwhile, I still haven’t gotten any projects off my bucket list. Do I feel guilty? Hell, yeah! But I’ve figured out the food thing. Next time I will eat what ever I want… and maybe no guests?