I woke up with a splitting headache and a very heavy stomach, and before I could even open my eyes, I was asking myself how much did I have to drink last night?
Then I remembered something weird… I don’t drink. Well at least nothing with alcohol in it. So that blows that theory out of the H2O as well as my follow-up assumption that I must have stopped by the kebab shop on the way home. I live in New Jersey now… there are no kebabs, they are called gyros here and they completely lack any of the unhealthy, dripping with grease, charm that make them so appetizing after a night on the booze. As an afterthought, I also recalled that I’ve been a vegetarian for almost a year now.
Most importantly, there were no horrendous globs of blood on my pillow nor any noticeable annihilation of my lungs by a racking cough, so thank fuck, I hadn’t started back on the smokes.
So, having established these things, my mood lightened, and I pondered more practical causes for my feeling less than 100%. I opened my eyes fully, sat up, and took in my surroundings. The usual brand of incense, the meditation channel playing softly on Pandora, and there were no damp patches on the sheets, to suggest I was troubled with inappropriate thoughts of my yoga instructor during the night.
Everything as you can tell from my description was perfectly normal, right?
So to solve the mystery of this hangover, I recalled the events of the previous evening. Nothing out of the ordinary there, my kid was over and we baked chocolate chip brownie cupcakes. 100% organic and fair trade, I might proudly add.
Now when I use the term “we” it basically means I drove my kid to the Grassroots organic store, gave him money to buy the ingredients, drove back home, tinkered around with this blog site, wondering what the hell I’m going to write about, all in the guise of “supervising” as he did everything.
Pause – proud parent moment here, it is my boy who is largely responsible for putting me onto this organic, vegetarian, anti-corporate new age lifestyle. We like to encourage each other to stick to our principals even when it’s by no means practical, let alone convenient to do so. The cupcakes themselves are an example of that. We used to follow the original recipe and put peanut butter cups inside them. It soon occurred to us that the peanut butter cups were the only ingredient that we could not find an organic, or more importantly, fair-trade brand for. So we tried a few different things, looked around a few different places and found organic fair-trade chocolate chips instead, resulting obviously in a different taste and texture, but completely free of gmos, chemicals and slavery.
So yeah, nice pleasant evening, we indulged in a couple of the cakes after dinner, before it was time to drop him off at his mom’s, it being a school night and all. He took the remainder of the cakes with him because he likes to bring them in and share them with his mates, and because I have absolutely zero fucking will power with such things being left in my house.
And so I get back home, start getting ready for bed, brush my teeth, do a little meditation, one last check that I have everything I need ready for work the next day, check the pantry… ello, ello, what’s this then?
Unbelievable! The little fecker left an almost entire package of chocolate chips behind. Opened. Right next to my organic peanut butter. Hmmm… I did wonder what organic peanut butter cups would taste like…
And so it all came flooding back to me, as I stumbled out of bed and dragged myself over to the pantry to see an empty peanut butter jar and chocolate chip package. Ugh, he’s 11 years old, dammit, isn’t it time he started learning about responsibility so he wont be leaving candy in the path of a parent he considers to be mature and wise?
Honestly, what are they fucking teaching in schools these days?
And so my organic fair trade candy hangover is my excuse, nay, reason for not starting my blog today, my blog which will hopefully cover little ways in which we can chip away at the shackles of the modern world, without losing our place in it.
Because I don’t know about you, but whilst it would be nice to completely stick it to the man, I’m not quite ready to shave my head and join a Buddhist monastery just yet. But make no mistake though, there are ways, many very simple ways, in which we can improve our lives and the lives of others and leave a lot of bullshit aside.
So yeah when I actually start the blog, I will hopefully cover some recipes, work-outs, meditation techniques, consumer consciousness, or an occasional long winded pathetic excuse as to why not.
So until then, as my yoga instructor says, “the light in me honors the same beautiful light that shines in each and every one of you”… but that’s a lot of words to end each blog with, and well… just doesn’t capture the essence of life in new jersey, so I’m going to shorten it and paraphrase…
Namaste motherfuckers 🙂
(the author would like to emphasize that no nestle products were used in the making of this blog. Or in the making of the hangover for that matter.)