The Beyonce Cleanse

A week ago I began the Master Cleanse (AKA The Beyonce Cleanse AKA The Lemonade Cleanse). If you haven't heard of this via Kelly Kapoor, it is a diet regimen that is meant to detox your system. Beyonce famously did it for two weeks to prepare for her role in Dreamgirls.

The Cleanse:
You drink a "lemonade" of lemon juice, cayenne pepper, and maple syrup 6 times a day.
You also drink laxative peppermint tea before bed and green tea in the morning.

When I began the cleanse, I told myself if I didn't feel good at any point, I would stop. I honestly didn't know if I would get past one day, but I wanted to try it out. It's been a wild school year, and at the end of every big adventure I like to detox everything. This week, besides Beyoncing I've been meditating daily, deep cleaning my bathroom, sorting old files, etc. You know. Getting refreshed! People sometimes try to use this cleanse for weight loss, but doing it for a week has probably lost me a pound or two (although I wouldn't know since I don't ever weigh myself), but I'm sure as soon as I put something solid in my body,  I'll return to normal. So, I'm not measuring the success of this diet by how I have changed externally--more how it's effected me internally.

Notes on the Experience:
-Deprivation. This cleanse supposedly resets your taste buds to be more in line with your body. IE--no more desire for foods we wouldn't naturally want. At first this was SO WRONG. Day Three was my only day of real hunger, and I spent literally hours of the day looking at restaurant menus and recipes online. But, now, Day Seven, that desire is gone. I'm not hungry really at all. I mean, yeah, food sounds good. I miss chewing. But, if I had to eat something, I'd opt for a piece of bread--not the Reese's Cookie Explosion Brownies that glowed from my computer screen four days ago.
     Two Schools of Thought: 1. Deprivation just makes you want it more. Or 2. Deprivation gets you back on track with what you ACTUALLY want.
-Being Social. I was asked out to dinner this week. Couldn't go. I'm not in school, so I am free as a birdy, and I've seen friends, but I know I'd be seeing them MUCH more if I were eating. HOWEVER, I DID attend my friend JD's graduation dinner. Oh. It was super glam. Pre-set menus, JD's parents footing the bill, ARTICHOKE PASTA, CHOCOLATE MOUSSE TORTE. I just drank water and watched the five courses spin around me. While that might sound like hell, it really wasn't bad.
     1. It's usually difficult to abstain from things we want when they are presented to us. But, I thought, we can get them basically any time. Like, yeah, I wanted that torte, but next week I can make that torte and eat it breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I wouldn't even WANT that, but I COULD. In just a week. Why feel like the world is going to collapse because I can't have it RIGHT NOW? There will always be more to come, you know?
     2. This was the most focused I've been on other people during a meal in a really long time. I never considered how much eating while socializing tears my concentration. Obviously, eating is social, so I'm still going to eat and socialize, but I feel much more aware of first being attentive to people second to my food.
-Good Feeling. I've spent so much time on the couch since finals ended. It's glorious. I did the exact thing last year--on Pookie's couch. I flopped for days watching Netflix, but the difference? I also ate bowl after bowl of ice cream and crackers. I ended up feeling so sluggish. It's been nice to relax while energized. But, of course, I'm happy to stop drinking that nasty potion.
-Cheap. Nothing pads your wallet like surviving on some lemons and a bottle of syrup for a week.

There's probably more, but that's what stands out. Overall, I'm glad I tried this. I do feel bouncier, fresher. I mean, the toxins have really been flushed out of my body. Amped to ease back into food!

Come out of the Cave

Running around the desert--cool breeze--swift steps uphill to "King of the World"--
a song I loved as a 17-year old Lucy in AZ.
Early morning crackers spread with Trader Joe's peanut butter and strawberries.
Mountains and hedgehog cacti.
Two roadrunners, quail, a jackrabbit on Easter morning.
My aunt, Maf, and I, aproned, bake a vegan shepherd's pie.
We drink pomegranate juice out of champagne glasses, and I clean my pastel bowl of carrot soup with a potato roll.
I love these people, and I believe in the power of family because here is my father's sister who lives in the North Woods and her best friend from childhood and the boy from down the block and me, and they're singing me an early happy birthday over a chocolate cake made with no animal products, sided with Soy Dream ice cream.
I head home with a saddlebag of leftovers.
It's a forty minute drive that seems much too short for the vacation I'm returning from, for the finals prep I am returning to.
I curl up on the couch and watch Don and Peggy and Joanie while my roommates study and their significant others bake Lent-Is-Over-Cookies and paint a sailboat on an ocean.
I was in a saltwater hot tub this afternoon.
The show ends, and I head to my bedroom.
I pull out this infernal writing machine. I unpack a little.
The smell of my damp swimsuit in a grocery bag.
It reminds me of being called Lucy
when that was my only name.
And I think we could all use a resurrection sometimes.



Happy Easter.

Rich!

I am RICH! I write to you from Muff's bed, covered in pastel yellow sheets. It's 3 AM (I must be lonely?) and I've let the lovebirds to sleep. But I am up, up and energized. It's juuust getting to bedtime in the desert.

1. The song "Alone" covered in Glee Season One has been stuck in my head ALL DAY. Do you have any idea what it's like to have Kristen Chenowith's belting energy bottled up on a day of planes?

2. I repeat, I AM IN MUFF AND JAMBA'S HOUSE RIGHT NOW. I was greeted with the utmost love. I sank into their embraces at midnight in the Richmond airport and I felt so grateful, welcome, satisfied: "My friends. My friends."

3. Decorations for my stay:



4. Dinner at one AM: veggie corndog, HOMEMADE RED PEPPER HUMMUS, Oreo cupcakes, Cadberry eggs.

5. This is my other family. You guys, friendship is the best.

'Til now, I've always got by in my own.
I never really cared until I met you.

Eating And Watching TV

What I'm about to say is not a joke: I think I am the happiest ever when I am eating and watching TV.

There are caveats obviously--the food and television need to be good. The Office plus a sundae. Boy Meets World plus Greek yogurt. Breakfast burrito plus 30 Rock.

Obviously, my life amounts to much more than watching TV and eating. In fact, I probably watch an average of 2.5 hours of TV per week since starting grad school. But, legit, if it were possible to scientifically gauge my happiness, I'm pretty positive the studies would show that I would be happier with an episode of Mad Men and a slice of cheesecake than I would be if I were sitting in the audience of one of my play's opening nights on Broadway.

Clara is a really really talented artist and individual. But somehow, she seems to be fine letting that sit inside her, peeking out when it feels fun. And, obviously, as I've written before, I feel like a tiny perpetual guilt machine about art. Part of me does believe Clara is honestly one of the best writers of all time--all the greats included--and she needs to share that. It's her "duty." But most of me sees her happy and thinks that's actually way better than any "duty" she is called to.

These two revelations--what makes me happy and that Clara is happy--make me wonder...Can I give this art stuff a rest already? I mean, I still like it all, but should I stop trying? I mean, I wouldn't have gotten into school if I hadn't forced myself to write a new play last winter, if I hadn't have forced myself to go beyond my immediate understanding of writing in college and pursue an independent study of dramatic writing, if I hadn't always shown up to rehearsals ready to work...And, ultimately, I'm really really happy to be here.

But would I be happier on a couch hangin' out? At the end of everything, am I "doing good" with art as a means to have enough money to watch The Biggest Loser over pancakes?


The first thing I did when I moved into my new room. Hung the illustrated lyrics to "Last Straw, AZ" my sister designed for me.

YOU GUYS, I AM SERIOUSLY IN THE MIDDLE OF AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!? AM I ALLOWED TO JUST SCOOT BY OR SHOULD I KEEP TRYING TO, LIKE, DO STUFF FOR MYSELF AND THE WORLD?! I'M SO MANY BAMBOOZLEDS!