The Life of Pie

After a catastrophe of Resolute proportions yesterday, I finally got my website up and running. I've found I tend to think I can do anything, and without bothering to read instructions, I plunge right in (I swear, I'm not a boy). This was the case yesterday with my site.

I have been working on the new mendingresolute.com look for quite a while now, and yesterday I awoke, excited to put even just a teeny part of it up for the world to see. Only, within three clicks, there was nothing left! I quite literally found myself, between yesterday and today, Mending my Resolute homepage. Thankfully, Rick raced to my rescue, and between his help, and the emailed assistance of writer extraordinaire, Michelle Miles, I was able to get things up and running. You really should stop by and check it out. My friend John, who is a genious with computers, is helping me with the animation for the site, and vows to make all my crazy ideas come to life. And he will. Like I said, he's a genious! I can't wait until it's finished - it's going to be so cool!

Speaking of cool, I just subscribed to The Daughters of Freya. Sharon Wildwind told me about it at Word on the Street last weekend, and after receiving three emails, I found myself intrigued. My subscription should start today, and I guess the mystery unravels through emails from the characters to other characters, emailed 4-5 times per day over three weeks. Should be fun!

Today the sky is blue, like a painting by that guy on chanel thirteen at 1:45 pm. You know the one I'm talking about - he always adds "Happy Little Trees" on the landscape. Doesn't ring a bell? Man! You didn't fake enough sickies to get out of going to school! Brandy should relate...

On Monday night, I vowed to go to the gym. I do this once a month, like clockwork - the "Oh, I feel so gross blah blah blah" thing, which leaves me tearing toward the gym, swearing off carbohydrates and pumpkin seeds forever. (Four to six days later, I deflate and feel so thin I think I could be used as one of those mining kids, shoved into the tiny crevises too big for the burly miners to fit through... if they actually use small children for that stuff... maybe I've been watching too many of those "A Piece of our History" commercials.)

Anyhow, I was on the bike, having decided to combine some enjoyable reading with my light, enjoyable workout. ("I swear, I'm going to do this three times per week, combined with my yoga, this time for sure! I'm resolving to - ooh, is that a Cheeto on the floor? Who the hell eats Cheetos at the gym!") As those who read my earlier blogs know, I'm currently reading The Life of Pi. Having just come off The Rule of Four (I'm not even going to link it - you really don't want to waste your time even checking out the cover. Don't be fooled!) I was expecting enraging boredom. I was shocked to find how compelling this prize winning book is!

Only, I came to a part in the book where he is out of food. In the middle of the Pacific. With a man-eating Tiger. Pi is fantasizing about mountains of curry and waterfalls of chutney (that's not a direct quote, so I apoligize to Yann, but you get the drift. HA! Drift! Get it? Little boy in lifeboat... drift... ROFL! I'm just too funny to go to work today! Okay, please stop throwing things at me....) ANYHOW. He's fantasizing about these creeks of dhal soup and ice cream hurricanes and such, and I'm rounding my 35th minute on this bike. Having not eaten since five. (It was almost ten pm...) Suddenly, a mighty roar, and not from the tiger between the pages of the book!

I got off the bike, changed and went to the car. Man, was I hungry! I had a small stash of trail mix in the glove compartment, so I pulled it out and began munching as I started driving home. Suddenly, all the trail mix was GONE! I put the bag to my lips and tipped the bottom, hoping to find - oh I don't know, perhaps another bag of them hiding inside?! Who knows. Regardless my intensions, I only received crumbs (one of which fell into my eye, and I almost drove off the road).

I thought of Pi, stranded in the middle of the ocean. And then I thought of Pie, sitting in my fridge at home. I drooled on my shirt.

But home was so far away! I had to have more of that cursed trail mix! Shoppers was open until midnight, thank Peper, and I raced toward it. No really. I never speed and I was speeding - all for the sake of trail mix.

Ten minutes later I emerged, having dropped my lime diet Pepsi on the floor of the store in my haste. Once inside the car, I tore the trail mix open - Sierra mix. Then, with my other hand, I tore the second bag open. Fruit mix. With a third hand I was not aware I had until that moment, I tore open a bag of Werthers Chocolates. I was desperate! Ravenous! I felt, after this moment, I would never taste sweet food again! (Except when I came to the dried apricots, which I threw out the window. Merry Christmas, squirrels, if you can turn off your gag reflex for long enough to swallow them, that is!)

I got home and continued my binge. I had not binged like this since I realized Crescent Heights High School did not have a cheerleading team, and I was starving myself for nothing! Himself watched me with fear in his eyes, as though wondering if an gooey alien was about to burst through my stomach.

When I had my fill of trail mixes and hazelnut chocolates, I rose from the floor (yes, really, I was on the floor) and dashed for the fridge. Pie was still my intended target.

I opened the fridge door and gasped. The pie was gone! Himself had eaten it! Both the apple AND what was left of the pumpkin! And just like that, staring into the (sadly empty) fridge, the spell I was under faded, and I realized how insane I was acting. And just at that very second, my stomach roared, only, this time, it was not from hunger.

I slept only a few hours that night thanks to my rumbling, discontent stomach- my punishment for such ridiculous food consumption. I've decided not to read The Life of Pi at the gym anymore - unless, of course, I've had a good meal before hand.