Meat is Murder

I rememeber watching an Oprah where Dr. Oz was on. My mother had been raving about this particular episode for quite a while as one of her favorite subjects in life is whether or not you are "regular".

In fact every conversation must start off with the following snippet:

Ely: Hey Ma.
Ma: How are you? How are the kids? How's your stomach been? Are you regular?
Ely: I'm fine. They're fine. My poop is fine.
Ma: When did you go? Describe it to me.

She then proceeds to update me on my sisters and dad's bathroom adventures. Conversations can usually last up to 15 minutes on the subject alone. The sad part is that I am actually semi interested.

Anyway, back to Dr. Oz. (Is he Turkish? His first name is Mehmet I think which is decidely Turkish) Dr Oz states that it takes 2-3 days to digest a full steak dinner. You have to wait for it to essentially "rot" in your intestines before it passes thru. I had steak this weekend. For the next two days, I kept wondering what stage my sirlion was currently at. I inspected all output in the bathroom and my belief is that it was expelled from my system around day 4. Perhaps I have lazy intestines? I wouldn't be surprised.

My sister is doing the Master Cleanse aka The Lemonade Diet. You can read about it here.
The whole family has bets on how long she'll last. I had my mom put me down for 4 days.

I started something I couldn't finish?

So I created this account only so I could comment on other blogs because the one-sided relationships I had were getting weird not to mention downright frustrating. It took me back to high school when I'd always be on the outside, silently observing the "cool" kids who would eternally be oblivious of my existence. How could I let history repeat itself?

I had never planned on blogging myself; the internet is a time-suck as it is for me so it's the last thing I need right now. However, day after day, I found myself clicking on "Elyria". I don't know what I was expecting. The emptiness of the black screen saddened me. I could hear it gently taunting me, daring me to fill it... "just ONE post Elyria. One."

I am not a writer. I can't look at the sky just before a thunderstorm and have the colors inspire me to write about my hopes and dreams. I like to know who my audience is at all times yet I hesitate sharing personal information with those I know.

Still, I'd be lying like a rug if I didn't admit I am just a wee bit excited to see where this single post takes me.