These are from our premiere of Wreck at the Southern Theatre in January.

My thoughts have been side-tracked a few times the last couple weeks when I have noticed how much more enjoyable eating is when I breathe while I chew. I mean, it wasn’t like I held my breath before, but I would breathe only enough to not die. My focus has nearly always been getting as much food in my belly before my stomach reflexes could tell me I’m full. This was especially important in my teenage years when my body needed so much food that even if I did stuff myself I was hungry an hour to an hour and a half later; I was kind of like a Hobbit that way.

I remember high school classes were so hard to get through because my stomach would constantly distract me and most teachers wouldn’t let me eat during class. Eating would get me out of bed in the morning and put me to sleep at night. It was almost always the first thing I thought of when I had free time. My brother was he same way and we’d often contest for left-overs. We were like wolves, our stomachs growling.

So, I’ve learned to eat first, breathe later. Which often led to hiccups… and gas. But at least my mind was free to think about other, less immediate things.

As I get older it has become clear that I don’t need as much food. I still eat more than most people I know, especially when I have a performance coming up, but my body doesn’t need nearly as much as I did even a few years ago. I still use a lot of energy, so I’m not sure if it’s just because I’m getting older. I am also eating better. I have been cutting down on meat(trying to eat only organic and free-range meat, which is more expensive and forces me to buy less) and eating more natural sugars and more veggies. I’ve cut out fast food entirely(but that is mostly an ethical decision). I’ve noticed a more constant energy and less crashing and hypoglycemic-like irritability.

Ironically, I still eat fast. But for some reason, the last few weeks I have been taking deep breaths while I chew and the weirdest sense of nostalgia happens. It’s like I’m eating all those foods for the first time. Apples. Squash. Curry. Asparagus. Dark chocolate. Milk. Pepperoni pizza. Pulled pork. Canned peaches. Cheese curds. Pad Thai. Edamame. Red Anjou pears. I keep saying in my head, “Oh wow! That’s why I like that so much!” And then I do that thing where you chew the food on the other side and it will taste markedly different. This has slowed me down some, maybe only a minute or so, but I’m starting to understand what people meant when they’d tell me to slow down and enjoy the food. To me, before this, enjoyment was simply just the pull of a five pound ball of food in the bottom of my stomach.

I got this message today:

From: Donovan Knapowski
To: oroy0001@umn.edu
Subject: Make every night a memorable night!
Date: 3Feb08 9:49pm

Your large instrument will come in handy.

And this was my response to Mr. Knapowski, whoever he is:

You don’t know half the story, buddy!

I started my own company today. I am amazed how easy it is. I just sign some paperwork at the office of the Secretary of State and pay a fee($160), get an Employer Identification Number(EIN), and I have a company. I can have employees. It has an identity separate from my social security number. It’s strange, but I feel a little more American. Although more kin to immigrants of a century ago, than “Americans” today.

Now that I have it, I know certain immediate I have an immediate vision and purpose. I am commissioned through the Walker and the Southern Theatre to choreograph half an evening of dance. They will give me money, I might do some fund raising, and I will be paying people to work for me. It’s kind of scary and exciting at the same time. I’m not sure what I will do with it after this year, but perhaps this is good; it might get my but in gear to start churning out more choreography now that my company has an entity beyond my imagination.

I wanted to call it is Bruno L.L.C. first, but that was taken by a billboard company or something. So I opted, and knew I’d get, Oroyan L.L.C. Although, I’d envision a marquee might say, “Oroyan Dance Company.”

I guess I could always use it to sell hotdogs if this whole dance thing doesn’t work out…

I thought of a riddle!

John and Debbie were driving in the car pool lane on the highway. John was driving when all of a sudden he sees a police car with its lights on behind him. Debbie is nervous. They pull over and the officer comes to their car. The officer looks at both John and Debbie, then issues a ticket for violating the rules of the car pool lane. How can this be?

My niece, born December 4, 2007.

BLM