1 down, 20 days to go.

I'm lying on my bed, alone in my room, laughing. Laughing hard. Like, falling over onto the floor, dropping my whole wheat flat bread, laughing.

That's right, whole wheat flat bread. Whole wheat flour, water, and salt, baked. FML.

The day has been consumed in researching such goodies as vegan pumpkin nog, and egg-less quiche. And though my cause is serious (spiritual enlightenment, boss), the process is kinda funny. Did you know that you can blend a chunk of tofu down into an egg-like batter for a quiche? No? Right, because NO ONE SHOULD EVER DO THAT.

I've started to keep a mental list of all of the things I want to remember to eat on September 20th. So far, I've got the sesame chicken from China Wok, and, thanks to my housemate, a chili-cheese dog from Sonic. I do realize that this is not a good place to start. I also realize that at the end of 21 days I'll probably find these obsessions silly, and immature. Regardless of whether or not God speaks to someone through a fast, there's a personal discipline involved that would seem to change a person.

Susan Gregory, the official Daniel Fast blogger (and pharisaical keeper of the Daniel Fast food laws), says that before you start the fast, you should think about what you want from it. What is it that brings you to God in such an extreme way? James River is going the fast because they want to bless their new campus. But why am I doing this? Is it only to experience fasting in a Missouri megachurch? No. It's not.