Absolutely flabulous

There were many personal things I wanted to work on this trip.
1) be more conscious of exercise and diet
2) consume less alcohol
3) stretch and do yoga in the mornings. Possibly run when comfortable
4) be utterly compassionate
5) be a little more ridiculous

Needless to say I've conquered only one of these things and of course it's last on the list. While I've managed to put myself out there the rest of my short to do list has been avoided at all costs, not consciously of course, I've knocked down too many buckets to be aware I havn't worked on bettering myself. So I'm going to break it down a little to make myself feel better for lack of attempt.

Being conscious of my diet IS easy when there is no fast food around (and I can't seem to handle Western food anymore, I've tried twice and both were immediate disasters), however not easy when EVERYTHING is fried. Let's face it, I could stand to loose twenty some odd pounds, anyone but Portia DeRossi Degeneres could (stuff your face girl). And I really wanted to here but I sweat so much just sitting around that I can't even fathom attempting to run or do a push up or whatever. It's hot as the Devils crotch out here. Sick. Than I think, hey! Water weight is a big part of it, isn't it? Isn't it?! Appearently not when the water I consume is actually beer.

 Consuming less alcohol...PASS! We all knew that wouldn't happen, but I'm doing it out of sheer joy now not to suppress the animosity I felt towards society.  

Im too hungover in the morning for the downward dog, please. I really wanted to stretch on the beach since I spend hours a day there trying to burn a permanent tan into my skin. However, I'm saving burning the image of my Buddha belly into beach goers eyes. When it comes down to it though I can't blame genetics, I can't blame the fact that I'm possibly the laziest human being to have ever lived, I can only blame my parents. For raising me in the most desolate and boring place on earth. Sure it's fantastic to spend eight months a year all curled up in my snuggy watching a Molly Ringwald marathon, and ordering 241. But the fact that my thighs and butt look like they survived a hail storm is not.

Today I observed some of God's most beautiful creations trot along the beach glistening in the sun. Not a jiggle, not a dimple, not even a friggin tan line. That's when it hit me. These people are from places with constant sun and activity. If I grew up in a bikini damn right I'd also do my best to look good in it. I bet chasing Kangaroos is great cardio. These people are clearly busy body's and it's because of where they were brought up. So mom and dad, this 20 lbs is for you... Seriously I need lypo, I'll get them to put it in a jar and you can keep it. 

I guess I'm still struggling with being comfortable with the amount of flesh I have. Woof. And the fact that I'm white. 

As far as the compassion aspect goes I suppose I do find it more often then not. The locals here are the friendliest, most loving and respectful people I've ever encountered. To each other and Mother Earth. I guess doing the generic tourist stuff is when it gets me down. Every man for himself is the mentality and all manners learned throughout life seem to be disregarded. Lucky for me, being polite, quiet, and pushed around, always last, I always get my stuff first. Jack holes!

Fun fact: I'm so beached, bro!