Monday, February 14, 2005
T minus five months
It's time to get this show on the road.
Practically every day for the last two months, I woke up thinking I'd start posting regularly to this blog, which is a gateway activitiy to actually believing this trip is going to happen. And every time I've had the motivation to start, I've been tripped up by the title. I just don't like it.
Every other book I've read recently has been a travel book about America, so I've been hoping to stumble upon something perfect, some phrase with such art and incision that it makes me want to write every day just to do it justice. But I got through On the Road without meeting up with such a phrase, as well as Travels with Charley, and more than half of a drab volume called From Sea to Shining Sea. Now I'm partway into Nickle and Dimed, and I've decided to bite the bullet. If I think of the perfect name, I'll just do my best to transfer what, if any, momentum I've built to the new site.
So it's 4;30 in the morning, and I'm still awake because, it turns out, I'm a little bit lactose intolerant. It's not a huge surprise, since I was alergic to cow's milk when I was young, but if it turns out to be true, it's definitely a pain in the ass. I really like ice cream a lot.
This is the way I found out:
Because of the upcoming trip, I decided to get in shape, so that my body can physically handle the discomfort of a month on the road. Also, I needed to join a YMCA to be able to get a free shower here and there across the country. So I joined the Camden County YMCA last week, and have been to work out four times, including this afternoon. I swam 1,300 yards in a very hot pool. Then Kristen and I made dinner, a sensible one of london broil and corn and salad, and went about our normal Sunday night stuff. The only thing different was that the Grammys were on. My workout left me feeling pretty good about myself, so I figured I'd allow myself some chocolate ice cream while I watched the Grammys and took care of some work I'd been putting off. Only the ice cream was rock-hard, and our ice cream spade has disappeared. So instead of letting it sit and soften for a few minutes, I decided to hack at it with a regular spoon, eating it straight from the carton. Half a half-gallon container later, I'd undone every bit of good I'd done in the pool. An hour after that, I had what felt like heartburn so bad I couldn't sit still.
Maybe it's not lactose intolerance. I have milk with cereal practically every morning with no ill effects, so long as I don't go running straight afterwards (if I do, I almost always get a stitch). Maybe it was the steak sauce or the vegetable oil or the garlic. I don't know, but I started downing Tagamet and Zantac like it was candy corn, to little or no result. The pain is just now subsiding, and I have to be awake in less than four hours. Fun.
Anyway, here's the plan. I made some notes on my readings, or at least dog-eared the pages that seemed relevant, and over the next few posts, I'll try to make sense of them. Also, there have been conversations with friends that have been helpful, as well as a few sleepless nights of worrying, all of which I promise to address soon.
Assuming, that is, that I can stay away from the ice cream.
Practically every day for the last two months, I woke up thinking I'd start posting regularly to this blog, which is a gateway activitiy to actually believing this trip is going to happen. And every time I've had the motivation to start, I've been tripped up by the title. I just don't like it.
Every other book I've read recently has been a travel book about America, so I've been hoping to stumble upon something perfect, some phrase with such art and incision that it makes me want to write every day just to do it justice. But I got through On the Road without meeting up with such a phrase, as well as Travels with Charley, and more than half of a drab volume called From Sea to Shining Sea. Now I'm partway into Nickle and Dimed, and I've decided to bite the bullet. If I think of the perfect name, I'll just do my best to transfer what, if any, momentum I've built to the new site.
So it's 4;30 in the morning, and I'm still awake because, it turns out, I'm a little bit lactose intolerant. It's not a huge surprise, since I was alergic to cow's milk when I was young, but if it turns out to be true, it's definitely a pain in the ass. I really like ice cream a lot.
This is the way I found out:
Because of the upcoming trip, I decided to get in shape, so that my body can physically handle the discomfort of a month on the road. Also, I needed to join a YMCA to be able to get a free shower here and there across the country. So I joined the Camden County YMCA last week, and have been to work out four times, including this afternoon. I swam 1,300 yards in a very hot pool. Then Kristen and I made dinner, a sensible one of london broil and corn and salad, and went about our normal Sunday night stuff. The only thing different was that the Grammys were on. My workout left me feeling pretty good about myself, so I figured I'd allow myself some chocolate ice cream while I watched the Grammys and took care of some work I'd been putting off. Only the ice cream was rock-hard, and our ice cream spade has disappeared. So instead of letting it sit and soften for a few minutes, I decided to hack at it with a regular spoon, eating it straight from the carton. Half a half-gallon container later, I'd undone every bit of good I'd done in the pool. An hour after that, I had what felt like heartburn so bad I couldn't sit still.
Maybe it's not lactose intolerance. I have milk with cereal practically every morning with no ill effects, so long as I don't go running straight afterwards (if I do, I almost always get a stitch). Maybe it was the steak sauce or the vegetable oil or the garlic. I don't know, but I started downing Tagamet and Zantac like it was candy corn, to little or no result. The pain is just now subsiding, and I have to be awake in less than four hours. Fun.
Anyway, here's the plan. I made some notes on my readings, or at least dog-eared the pages that seemed relevant, and over the next few posts, I'll try to make sense of them. Also, there have been conversations with friends that have been helpful, as well as a few sleepless nights of worrying, all of which I promise to address soon.
Assuming, that is, that I can stay away from the ice cream.
