Introduction & Early Stages

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June 2002

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Tuesday, June 11, 2002

I'm scared out of my mind. I actually think I'm nervous. I haven't eaten anything in a week, just bits and pieces of this and that. I have no appetite and it's driving me crazy. I wake up not hungry and I go to sleep not hungry. Throughout the day I eat maybe enough food that amounts to probably one full meal. I'm alone, I'm scared and I feel like I'm wasting away to nothingness. Lord knows I could lose a few pounds -- which I am doing very quickly -- but this is not the way to do it.

On a good note, I spent the weekend in Boston with Nina. We hung out, went to the beach, did all kinds of fun things. It's nice not to worry about homework and just go out and play in Beantown. Even there I didn't do much eating, just one or two real meals and that's it. Nina was beyond understanding -- not that I can blame her.

So for now I'm going to sit tight and try to pull myself out of this slump. In the meantime I need to figure out what the heck is going on here. It might be the heat, but it's not too hot. It might be my work, but I'm not too busy. It might be a lot of things, but I'm not too worried. Yet.

Friday, June 14, 2002

Despite the crappy weather, Iím feeling OK. I adjusted, pulled myself out of a slump, and am back on course. Granted, I hadnít eaten anything in a week and dropped about 8 pounds, but these things happen, and when they do I have found the best thing is to take them at full throttle. Itís like when you see a speed bump do you speed up or slow down? While most probably slow down, I speed up because I figure if Iím going to hit it, itís going to be drastic. It puts the fun back into driving.

If Iím going to get sick, Iím going to get hospitalized. And I donít have time for anything else. So move over stomach virus or GI parasite or whatever the hell is wrong with meÖI got a life to lead.

And so it goes. I mean what can I say? Itís the summer, I got a tan to work on, I got cities to visit; I just donít have time to be sick. So I will make myself better and get moving here. If I canít live life in the fast lane, I donít want to bother.

Monday, June 17, 2002

Yesterday I went to the opening gala for a new Off-Broadway show called the ìPrince and the Pauperî. Itís a new musical that takes the classic tale of a poor, helpless boy and a rich, powerful prince and brings their lives together in spirit, and in reality. (A must-see, by the way, if youíre in the New York area and donít want to spend a hundred bucks a head on an over-produced Disney show, and instead want to have a fun time at the theater.)

Last night I went to bed not only singing the music I had just heard but thinking about what it would be like to magically switch bodies with someone healthy. To wake up feeling good and to walk down the stairs. To take a shower to clean myself, not just to loosen up my joints. And I think I even had a dream that this was the case. It was beautiful.

But I awoke the pauper of health that I am, not to riches and good health but instead in my burlap sack, stiff, achy and in great, typical pain.

A boy can dream, canít he?

Saturday, June 29, 2002

Very interesting thing happened this morning. I played mind games with the rest of my body. It's a funny thing to do -- it's like when you're at a stoplight and you tell the light to turn green with your psyche, and sure enough it does. This morning I just wasn't feeling hot. Everything hurt -- life was achy -- and instead of getting upset, and probably out of utter boredom, I told my body to feel better. Obviously I didn't get out of bed and run a 3-minute mile, but I did feel like the harshness of the pain seemed to dissolve away to wherever it came from minutes earlier.

Wide-awake at this point, I kept thinking "COOL". So then I tried it again. This time it was with my runny nose. I told my little boogers to go away. To find some other place besides my nose. I didn't want them bothering me anymore, so after 5 minutes they took a hike and just disappeared all together. (For once, they didn't wind up on my sleeve or on my pillow.)

It was that simple. Mind over matter.

Ultimately though it was a case of good luck -- twice in a row. My joints were going to stop throbbing and my boogers were about to go away. Because the light would have eventually turned green.