A little rain each day will fill the rivers to overflowing.

–African Proverb

Take two of my rampage found me tearing through the weekend like chaos and leaving carnage in my wake.  We’ve covered Eggy Thursday with the cake and quiche.  Friday night I fed on fried oysters.  I should have known better than to try that in Memphis. (New Orleans, how I miss your oysters!)  The oysters were lackluster, but the rest of the evening passed in surrealist splendor. These were the visions seen near the Buddha’s feet on Main Street: buffalo guarding the portal to a rain forrest hidden in the wall, dozens of full moons over cotton field blooms, sequin-hooved horses trotting alongside trolley cars, a white couch kiss-stained with menstrual blood, the story of her reproductive history contained in little wooden boxes lining the walls, a river rising dangerously, a trinity of zombie mermaids floating and bloating in the darkness. It’s times like these I wish I could paint with brushes and pigment instead of with words!

Saturday I feasted on a filet mignon hamburger that was, in short, amazing.  In long, it was bloody, savory, succulent, oh so very tender, and so deeply satisfying that it was damned near a religious experience. My gratitude is a river overflowing.

And today is Sunday, day 111 of my enlightenment journey.  And day 1 of being a vegetarian!