Day Twenty-One

Yesterday, a friend of mine called; her husband was out of town and she wanted to know if I would do a "girls night out." I hesitated at first. It was Saturday night. I was supposed to spend it on the couch with a crudite and a Dexter dvd. How could I take my raw life out of the house? After a little internet research, I accepted the invitation. We met at a vegetarian restaurant, but there wasn't a single item on the menu that was completely raw. I had them make me a raw salad, and, hold on to your hats, I ordered a glass of white wine. White wine is the preferred alcoholic drink among raw foodists; its basically "raw," and it doesn't have a lot of alcohol. In just the first few sips, however, I felt the familiar warmth of my good friend: booze. Oh, my dear sweet consort, where have you been for the last three weeks?
So, what I took from this experience, in addition to the mediocre salad and a light buzz,was that I could probably do this; I could subsist, thrive even, on a raw diet. That's how I feel this morning anyway. We will see if I am as steadfast at the end of the thirty days.