I have to be honest here. It wasn't just my pappy who twisted my arm to get me to start a blog; there was also Alvin: Alvin of my 4:55 class, Alvin of the bizarre-o essays which often contained photographs of sushi, Alvin of the origami frogs; yes, that Alvin. Start a blog, he told me. Me? I asked. Come on, he said, and so this morning I emailed him telling him I had, indeed, started a blog and asking for advice on what to write. He told me I didn't have to mention him in the first post (Thanks Alvin!) and that I should just write until my heart's content.
And so the inevitable question: how do I know when my heart's content?
Right now, a sirloin burger, spinach salad and glass of South African red into the evening, I'm thinking, wow, my heart's content. But even as I write it I'm compelled to backspace. (And then, of course, in a ridiculously circular way, I want to backspace on that last sentence as well.)
This morning over shredded wheat I told Cody I've started this blog. We eat the big ones--no need to bite-size it--just some cinnamon and sugar, a big splash of milk (heaven!).
Are you giving health tips? he asked.
You know, health and fitness tips.
This is the man I'm marrying in five and a half months, the man who knows and loves me better and more than anyone in the world, and he believes that if I were to start a blog it would be to share health and fitness tips. So here they are, folks. Alvin, listen up:
1) Start and end every day with a glass of water.
2) Keep cherry tomatoes on hand.
3) Laugh liberally. Do yoga. Choose watermelon over banana pudding.
4) Listen to your heart. If you can't hear it, listen to your breath.
5) Don't yell something over shredded wheat like "Health and fitness? Do you not understand how complicated I am?"
6) At the end of the day, take inventory. Have you been kind to guests? Have you stayed within your allotted caloric intake? Have you waved hello to the mobsters who run the flower shop around the corner, and by doing so, encouraged not only neighborhood safety but also the glimmer of hope you have for a free peony? And your heart, that big, fat content beast you've been hauling around town--have you given it a shout-out, a little hello, a little thank you for the rhythm, maybe even just a good night?
Just a good night, sweet dreams.