A parody on 'Eat Pray Love': 'Drink Smoke Write'
Aug. 11, 2010 at 3:11 a.m.
Updated Aug. 13, 2010 at 3:13 a.m.
A couple of months ago, I read the book "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert, which this weekend is also being released as a major motion picture starring Julia Roberts. Needless to say, I'm exactly the kind of chick that would fall in love with such a book.
It's not hard to see why. The author spends a year traveling to exotic locations, where she eats great food, has several deeply spiritual experiences and falls in love with a major foreign hottie. If that wasn't enough, she then gets paid to write about it.
Talk about a dream job.
Unfortunately, journalism is not quite as lucrative as one would think (considering once I was paid with a stapler and gift certificate to Pizza Hut), which is thus preventing myself personally from setting out around the globe and doing something similar. But that doesn't mean I still can't write my own version of this cultural phenomenon focusing on the tools I use daily as a journalist.
And thus, I present to you "Drink Smoke Write."
I began my long trek in the exotic location of my living room. Since 9 a.m. that morning when I left for work, I had been longing to see the wonders my living room possessed, such as a beautiful, inviting couch, two large bookshelves filled with my favorite authors and just on the outskirts of the border, a charming little wine fridge that held so many delights to the senses.
And by that, I mean booze.
Wine, martinis, margaritas, beer from every corner of the globe; the key to it all was in there.
While many people think it's deadlines that motivate and reign over a journalist's life, as I took a swig of that ice, cold Bud Light in a can (the only beverage left in that ransacked wine fridge after a stressful week), I realized it's actually the idea of a 5 p.m. adult beverage that is our true motivator.
Considering that smokers are viewed as villains of Lex Luthor proportions these days, some of the joy has been taken out of smoking lately. Oh sure, I understand that it's a filthy, disgusting habit that causes disease, which is why we smokers have been banished to the wilderness (or wherever 12 feet from any entrance is).
But there's no denying that for many a writer, smoking is an invaluable tool that allows us to run away from writer's block under the guise of "taking a break."
And as such, I ventured to the picnic table outside the Advocate (dubbed "The Smokers Table of Shame") to further investigate the link between writing and smoking. As I was joyous to discover, about the fourth puff in it hit me. But then, I started wheezing and hacking and totally forgot it.
Of course, what would any writer be without writing? As such, the last stop on my journey was to a local coffeeshop, that sacred pilgrimage every aspiring novelist, playwright and screenwriter makes at least three times a week.
Giant cup of milk and sugar with a splash of coffee at my side, I opened up my laptop and immediately logged onto Facebook. Then Twitter. Then Gmail. Then Selleck Waterfall Sandwich on tumblr.com (which is a bunch of pictures featuring Tom Selleck, waterfalls and sandwiches; or in other words EPIC).
And by then, it was time to go home.
All in all, while my journey may not have been as life changing as Gilbert's, the one thing we do have in common is that ... hmm ... well ... OK, I got nothing.
I'm just going to go home to drink the rest of that Bud Light.