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![]() by Slo Mo ![]() 00/Jun/18 ![]() Time to fess up: my transition from Pissed-Off City Girl to Blissed-Out Beach Bum isn't going quite as planned. ![]() I started with great intentions. This land of sand and sunshine was my passport to A New Mo! I was on a path of personal growth and enlightenment, and I had it all mapped out - eat healthy, get fit, sleep more, smoke less, stop procrastinating, start writing, unplug the t.v., learn scuba, buy a guitar, volunteer, use public transit, let my highlights grow out... And, above all, I pledged to rekindle my spiritual spark and demonstrate more love for humankind. Hell, I'd be the next Buddha! Only skinnier, and with a better wardrobe. ![]() Uh-huh. Sure. ![]() Wanna know what I've really been up to? For starters, the "eating healthy" concept has gone right out the window, unless you're a fan of the three Cs (chips, chocolate, and coffee coolattas). And I doubt that I've become fit by sitting in a beach chair all day, every day. Sure I get more sleep, mainly during the afternoon, but that benefit is negated by the fact that I'm now a poster child for the tobacco industry and a card-carrying member of The Jose Cuervo Fan Club . I did manage to cure my little procrastination problem, but only because I gave up on setting unrealistic goals for myself, like "empty the dishwasher" or "balance the checkbook". On the other hand, I haven't written a word, unless you count the crossword puzzle at the back of TV Guide. And speaking of t.v., I really did intend to unplug it but the satellite hook-up appeared pretty confusing and then I noticed there was a Real World marathon on MTV and then CourtTV was covering a really scandalous murder trial and before I knew it three months had passed and, uh, that pretty much accounts for why the scuba/guitar/volunteer concepts fell by the wayside. And public transit seems pretty silly when there's a perfectly good convertible sitting in the garage. And I could cancel my weekly appointments at the salon but then I'd have to smash all the mirrors in the house... ![]() As for that spiritual spark and love for my fellow man? Oy! ![]() So I was thinking about this stuff today while I drove Dog to a barbecue with his little friends Fido and Fifi (don't ask), and I got to feeling kinda bad about myself, you know? I took a good, long look in the rearview mirror and saw someone who was not simply unenlightened, but also spoiled and slothful and unworthy and in general just very, very un-Buddha-ish. Definitely ix-nay on the uddha-Bay. ![]() Tears welled up, blurring my vision and fogging my fake designer sunglasses. I wondered if maybe I shouldn't give up this useless charade of an existence and drive straight off the intracoastal bridge. ![]() Then it happened - a car with one of those America: Live Free Or Die bumper stickers pulled in front of me at the exact moment when a butterfly appeared on the windshield and Dog, completely out of character, leaned over from the passenger seat to give me a big, long slurpy lick upside my face. ![]() And THAT'S when I had my revelation: ![]() Rock beats scissors, scissors beat paper, and a beach chair with a cupholder for my tequila beats spiritual self-righteousness ANY DAY. ![]() Who knew that a tacky display of patriotism plus an insect plus a wet and stinky dog kiss would add up to a moment of personal clarity? But maybe that's the point: enlightenment is where you find it, even on a bridge in the middle of a traffic jam with drool running down your cheek and a bug on your windshield. Somehow, I don't think Buddha would entirely disapprove. ![]() Now pass me an ashtray, hand over the remote, and excuse me while I go fire up the jacuzzi - I have plenty more goofing off to do. ![]() |
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