Wednesday, July 28, 2010


I am back, but not so much.

Bulgaria was great. So great.

I have little to say right now.  My alarm is set to go off in just an hour, and I've been unable to sleep.  When the lights go off, I'm in Bulgaria, but not.

I have a million things I want to write - recipes, poems, a training program, a screenplay, a nutrition plan, a novel, and almost a million blog posts. I don't write poems, so we are all lucky. I live in L.A., so you know I've already written screenplays, so why write more? The novel isn't real, or even an idea, it's the idea that writing a novel is needed, that's all. The other things will come. I am inspired, but all I can do is make lists, because everything seems so small right now. The lists will tell me what to write when I come out of this haze. Things will seem to scale again.

I'm being self-indulgent. Everyone should know how miserable I am. My friends should know it, but why leave that to chance?

Right now, all I know is that 6,000 miles away, she's sleeping when I'm awake. When my lights go off and I go to bed, I'm not talking to her because I have to get up early tomorrow, and she goes off to work.

My best friend is 10k kilometers away, and she's the one I most need to run to when this stuff happens.

When people come back from thier European vacations, they ask thier friends to join them for a coffee at Starbucks, sharing their pictures and stories over little espressos, while their friends have drip. They might pull out a pack of almost full cigarettes no one's heard of, then roll their eyes that they can't smoke indoors here. They'll accidentally say "merci" instead of "thank you" when the waitress brings the bill, as I did at The Counter, just yesterday, actually.

These people love something or someone, but this is what they have now. This is where they are. They would easily give up our wonderfully hot American coffee, smoke free dining, and thier native tongue and the ease of ordering that goes with it for another day in that city with those friends, or that man, or that woman, or that Great Love. Endulge them. They are going through thier own Shakespear, Cassablanca, or Roman Holiday right now, and the story isn't over.


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