Peanut Butter Chronicles

As I dip my organic peanut butter rice crispy in to the organic peanut butter jar I question the source of comfort. It was my second stop at Whole Foods in less than an hour…with a believable justification that I have a long drive home…so fill it with Peanut Butter, why not? And besides, I am starting my cleanse on Monday, beginning with the maple syrup fast and ending with a colonic hydrotherapy and lymphatic drainage. I laugh at myself thinking how anyone else in the world can be such a walking (or in this case driving) contradiction. Not only am I eating my peanut butter in complete ecstasy, I am listening to Esther and Jerry Hicks’ book on tape, “Ask and it is Given”. My phone is filled with saved messages of men, young and mostly old, inviting me to dinner and drinks around the city, my car is filled with forgotten head-shot submissions, 3 pairs of running shoes, a couple of inspirational books, and about 10 water bottles. So as I happily drive the long route home through Sunset Boulevard and smoke my ‘last’ cigarette (I Swear,) I keep asking my self the same questions…How much longer and I going to keep this up? What is this void that I am trying to fill? Why can I not just be still? And when does this roller coaster end?
Its been 9 months since I had moved to LA and these feelings of stuffed dissatisfaction yet grounded in believable excuses seem far too familiar to me. I look back as a child and can give countless accounts of ‘poor Ana’, ‘left out Ana’,’ too tall’ and ‘too mature’ for the cool kids, ‘too loud’ and ‘too opinionated’ for the stepfathers, and ‘too much’ for even myself to handle.“You will never be an actress, you are too fat to be actress!” Screams my Xstepfather, Morey! It still sings me to sleep and wakes me up in the morning. So again, I ask myself, when can I let this all go?
This city has been so much fun…9 months of being pregnant with my soul. And I am very bloated right now…not to mention extremely hormonal! But at every milestone of a month, or an infomercial, or a sexy older man, that inspires me to loose the weight, get in tip top shape, clean the house, wax the cooch, and get busy with the latest trends and hotspots…I keep running into this roller-coaster.
Its like that feeling of fear when you are slowly reaching the top…and you can hear the chains pulling the cart inch by inch…and every new breath is a clearer view of the city as you make that climb. But once the top is in view, the fear of doubt consumes the cart and the cart pauses…it is tilting at the top of the coaster…facing the world at all angles…and you are alone in this cart on top of the world with no where else to go…but… DOWN!
The first leap of gravity that pulls you to the earth and takes your breath out of your lungs is met with complete fear and helpless resentment. NO! I do not want to go back down, damn it! I just got up here…I just figured it out…I have 2 more weeks to loose the weight, a hot date on Wednesday, a meeting with someone in power, and a photo shoot!
“I can’t let go and go back to my old ways”, my ego says. So as I am pummeling down into self sabotaged oblivion, I scream, cry and tighten my body like a corpse being put into its tomb.
Again! Here we go, starting over at the bottom. Spirit I know you see what is going on! Lift me up!
As I walk into my home of disarrayed tokens of memories and compulsive hordings…I feel full. I feel tired. I feel lost with the amount of work that is ahead. Then the brain kicks in with all these desires and promises of tomorrow this and tomorrow that. I go to my kitchen counter filled with banned diet pills, milk thistle, green powder, fiber supplements, and dirty dishes and stare blankley…as if my consciousness was laughing at the oxymoronic display of excuses. I make my peppermint tea to calm my bloated tummy and lay out my lemons, cayenne pepper and maple syrup for my fast tomorrow, arrange my numbers of people to call back and postpone dinner and drinks for next week along with eyeing the psychics number that I am calling tomorrow for a small fee of $160 to tell me the magic answer to all my problems, and finally, I go sit on my computer and check messages of approval and hope!
I am left with this. This is where I am at 10 p.m. on a Sunday night.
Sipping my tea, trying to figure out me.

Peanut Butter Chronicles


Joined January 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

A story about love, life and cellulite

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