c,mon honey. time to get up.

So, yeah, I was supposed to be married and living up in Beverly Hills without a care in the world or a hair out of place but I ended up separated and living in Chinatown with a mustache problem and a kid.

I know, I'm confused too.

Since the separation, I’ve been busy crying and rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic that is my life but I'd like to class this joint up a bit. I'd be honored if you joined me and not just cause I need help cleaning my apartment. I’m either going to turn this ship around or she’s gonna sink but no matter what, I want company. And snacks.

I’m thinking about this because the book Eat, Pray, Love has just been turned into a movie. The basic premise is that the author left her unhappy marriage and embarked on a trip around the world to find her self. I think this is genuinely awesome. Reminds me of the lady from Under the Tuscan Sun who, also, left an unhappy marriage and, also, went to find her self. Again, props.

But, it's important to note that both of them had either huge divorce settlements or book advances, or both. And they didn't have children. No offense, but who wouldn't be able to transform in Italy or India with loads of free time and bags of money? I wanna transform but I have neither of those things.

What I do have is a true blue, glory hallelujah boy named Dash and a sickly, wheezing checking account headed towards a death rattle. So, what do you do when you can't afford to update your passport and can’t drag a 5-year old across hell's half-acre to rub Buddha's belly or redecorate a villa? I don’t know, but something’s calling for me. Something wild and lovely and inside the county lines. Which is great cause I can no longer get by on longing and ice cream.

I'm 42 and as scared as I have ever been and, again, totally confused. It's not like I didn't understand that when your life implodes, you do too, it's that I never thought my life would implode. But there it went, like one of those great old hotels in Vegas - blew out from the inside. And that's exactly it - it's an inside job. Getting separated was not the final piece of the puzzle, turns out it was just the start. Now, several months in, I am met with myself. There's noone around to conveniently blame and I have a suspicion that in some ways, the work (and the joy and the magic) haven't even begun yet. But, for so long my mantra has been: Any day now life will show up and open it's arms. Any day now.

When I woke up this morning I knew today was the day, for reals. So, I am going to throw everything at the wall and see what sticks. Like spaghetti. I am no longer al dente but neither am I overcooked. There is still time to get the pot off the stove and save dinner. There is still time to save the girl.

I asked every one I knew what made them happy and got loads of suggestions. Now I have a list of things to try and I will. Every week. Then I will write about how it went. First up, sailing. I start a week from today.

Let’s go.