I can't sleep.

And it's by choice. We leave for Yuma in a few hours and if I try to sleep there's no way I'm gonna wake up. So, I'm gonna babble on my awesome blog to the world. I wonder, how many people actually come across this? I know the only blogs I read are my personal friends' and laist. So, if millions of other blogs are going unread by yours truly then how obscure is MY blog? Will my goal to change the lives of millions through my writing go undone because my blog is not on the same "level" as Perez Hilton? The travesty!

Oh, well. It may be for the best. My grammatical defeciencies coupled with my lack of style would bore the "pop cultured" readers of the WORLD...WIDE...WEB. I'm working on it though. I'm looking into classes to clutivate and hone this passion that is buring within me. Till then I have stream of consciousness.

Today will be Day 1 of my 7 day fast. That's right 7 days! I was skinny already but apparently I'm going for ungodly skinny. I'll be frequenting Jamba but I'm still a bit scared to see how I'll look in a week. This'll be great though. I'm believing for God to speak to me on the precise direction of where I need to go. Praying for breakthroughs and looking to serve where I can, following the fasting tenents found in Isaiah 58.

We only have one assembly today which will end around 10 am. That's great 'cause I'm hoping to head to San Diego afterwards. Hit the beach, lay out and do some reading, cruise the Gas Lamp District for some honie...er, I mean feed the homeless, witness to the lost, and open air preach on the perils of listening to crappy Christian music.

I wonder if moving to Europe, becoming a freelance writer and living the boheimian life would be as exciting as I imagine it would. If it weren't for my debt I would be 85% FOR doing this! Really, I don't have much keeping me in any one place. I've lived away from my family for some time now. My closest friends are scattered throughout the world. My career is not set in one location. I have no wife and children. Only debt keeps me in the States. Man, it would be great to take my laptop, Dehlilah (my camera) and my ipod up through the fjords down through eastern Europe skimming by western Russia! I would experience the culture, frantically learn the language of the countries (at least enough to get by), writing about experiences and goings ons while I'm there. My friends and family would keep track of my progress via my blog so as not to worry. Oh, to dream...

Here is one of my ideal situations of meeting the woman of my dreams (I thought about it on the way home from work today). I'm in New York having a coffee and canole at my favorite coffee shop near NYU during the latter part of the afternoon. I'm reading "City of Quartz" by Mike Davis periodically looking up at the constant flow of traffic that's coming through the shop. There's students, professors, street performers, Juliard dancers, etc hanging out and going about their day-to-day. As I sit in the back corner-window (gives me the optimal view to see everything and everyone) adjacent to me is a beautiful woman who is also sitting alone, reading a book. She has her nose in "The Art of Travel" by Alain de Botton. At first I take a double take because she is a) beautiful and b) she's reading my favorite book of all time! I then sit in a cocktail of emotions of disbelief, excitement, fear, and joy. I can't believe that a beautiful woman would be this close to me reading a book I hold in such high regard and admiration. I'm excited 'cause I have a legitimate ice breaker (note: bumbling the words "uh...I, uh, uggh, think you're pretty, can I, (crap), buy you a coffee?" is not always a winner) but fear this is too good to be true. Ultimately I have joy because I will have witnessed that pretty people are deeper than we give them credit for.

I would have to conjur up the guts to approach her. No doubt would I take advantage of this opportunity. Not too sure what my opening sentence would be. From the get go she'd see that I'm not a threat nor a dork (crossing my fingers on the latter) and be open for conversation. Her name is Ashley. We'd talk about the classes she's taking @ Columbia (she likes the Lower East Side better which is why she's here) and her aspirations of becoming a senator. Though she's originally from Virginia she wants to reside somewhere else and is leaning towards California (hey, it's MY fantasy ok?!). She lays out her plan to revolutionize the idea of feminism and revamp much of the thinking of education. Our conversation is going great until she looks at her watch and realizes she's late for her im basketball game (be still my athletic heart!). But she emphasizes she wants to see me again so we set up a date for the Met that weekend.

I'll leave it at that for now...